Hi, hello, how is everyone!! I’m Lime (not saying my ac name on here lols) I’ve been lurking around in this community for EVER and I’ve finally gained enough confidence to make a blog for ittt (I am insanely nervous however LMAO)
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Three Times Kinger Made Ragatha Cry, and One Time He Made Her Laugh || The Amazing Digital Circus Tickle Fic ||
A/N: kinger is my dad and this fic is me projecting. don't worry, there's no spoilers for the new episode in this at all
Summary: …I mean you read the title
Word count: 3,176
---
Ragatha liked to believe that she had a pretty good poker face.
Sure, maybe one or two times that face would crack, but on the whole, she was pretty good at keeping her emotions close to her chest. Especially if that emotion was hurt.
With so many years under her belt of being her mother's daughter, she was practically a master at it. Not a single tear would slide under her mother's roof, or beratement and venomous words would follow.
It was a handy life skill even after she moved out. Whether it was uncomfortable conversations with her boss, strangers whistling at her in the supermarket, or a friend's callous words, she knew how to keep her cool.
Here in the Circus, it seems as though she needs that skill a lot.
She is reminded of this today, after another adventure. Their mission was to rob a bank and make it out both alive and with their loot. A loot that turned out to be nothing more than various colored blocks. She can still hear the great sigh of disappointment from everyone as they realized their efforts were fruitless. The crew share in their collective misery with moans and groans.
As they cross through the portal back into the Circus, one voice in particular is more cheerful than the rest.
"Wow! What a thrill!" Kinger exclaims. "Caine sure knows how to add a sense of danger to these games."
Ragatha smiles wearily, not sharing in his enthusiasm. "Yeah... he sure does."
"You were amazing out there, you know. Taking out all those security cameras, distracting the guards; you really nailed it today."
"Oh..." Ragatha blushes. "Thank you, Kinger."
"Of course! Especially after you went back to save Pomni from getting caught. I'm really proud of you."
Something inside of her cracks. Like a mirror with a nail driven through it.
Her chest tightens in an unfamiliar way. She doesn't like whatever this feeling is; it scares her. It catches her so off guard that she doesn't think to guard herself. Tears rise to the surface and stop just before the spill.
Before she can try to suck them back down, she sees Kinger's brows raise.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm good! Just tired" Ragatha says. It's not completely a lie. She isn't good. But she doesn't know what's wrong with her either. What about Kinger's compliment struck a nerve in her. She gives her best fake yawn. "I should really hit the hay. See you guys in the morning!"
Without another word, she hastes away, leaving Kinger blinking confusedly after her.
---
Ragatha didn't dwell on that moment for long. She really had been tired, and so the minute she rested her head down on her pillow, she was out like a light. The distress of that moment was briefly forgotten.
What is currently on her mind is this godforsaken adventure they're on now.
According to Caine, the "audience" (whatever that means) greatly enjoyed the Mildenhall Manor adventure, and is hungry for some more horror-themed ones.
That's how they ended up here in a haunted hospital looking for a way out.
Great. Just fantastic. No use asking what any of us wanted to do.
While she doesn't have a big problem with scares in general, there's something about hospitals that has always freaked her out. Something about the pale lighting and the diseased patients and the bleak atmosphere has always unsettled her.
And, as she now knows, they're even more disturbing in the dark.
Jax isn't particularly helping the case either. He's getting far too much enjoyment out of scaring the wits out of Pomni.
"God, Jax! Would you cut it out? This isn't funny anymore!" Pomni barks.
"How do you still jump every time? You know I'm gonna scare you and it still works every time!" Jax howls, clutching his belly.
Ragatha is about to chastise Jax for his immaturity when the clatter of a fallen wheelchair makes her jump out of her skin. It's one of the jumpscares Caine put in place for them no doubt.
Her muscles rattle as she tries to settle her nerves.
A hand rests on her shoulder, and she turns to see Kinger's kind eyes gazing down at her. He's more stable now, here in the darkness, and she can see it in his eyes that he is much calmer than normal.
"Don't worry. We're all in this together. Just stay close to me, and everything will be fine."
He pulls her into a side-hug as they continue walking. It's rather awkward for movement, and it causes Ragatha to have to sort-of limp with one half of her pressed against Kinger, but she isn't about to move for anything. She feels safer next to him. He's so steady and grounded, like nothing in this treacherous place can touch him. It's an admirable guise. With his hands pulling her into his robe, she suddenly feels like a little girl again, clutching to a grown-up to protect herself from the monsters.
Despite the terrors around her, Ragatha relaxes, letting her shoulders slump as her heartbeat lowers from thunder to a tremor.
She can't remember the last time she's ever felt this protected. She's not sure if she even felt this way as a child.
Her eyes begin to sting again.
But she isn't about to cry right now. Not if she can help it.
Fortunately, Kinger isn't looking at her. His eyes are trained dead-ahead on the pitch-black hallway in front of them, giving her a moment to blink the wetness away before anyone can see.
---
Why does this keep happening? Why does Kinger's company somehow always end with her being near to tears?
It's not like Kinger makes her sad. In fact, no one in the circus knows how to cheer her up quite like him. He's always there with a silly observation, or a scrambled sentence, or a bright attitude that can turn even the gloomiest of days into something worth smiling about.
So what is it then?
It's times like these when Ragatha misses her therapist.
"Uh, Ragatha?"
She's yanked out of her thoughts by Kinger, who is watching her like he's waiting for a response. He might have been talking to her about something when she zoned out. The pair were sitting inside of Kinger's pillow fort. With his memory now in pristine condition, he was telling her stories about his life before... well, all of this. Nice ones, too. The kind that make it hard to believe that he was now stuck in this hell that was the Circus.
"Uh- sorry. Kind of... spaced out there." She apologizes.
"No worries, happens to me all the time. I was just saying how my mother used to run around like mad during the holidays making sure everything was perfect." Kinger chuckles as he reminisces. "No matter what went wrong, Mom always knew how to fix it. She felt like the whole family depended on her to know what to do. No one was ever allowed to help her because she had to bear it all by herself. I always wished she didn't feel that way, but it meant a lot knowing how much she cared about us being happy.
"She was a lot like you, actually." Kinger looks to her.
That makes Ragatha's heart skip a beat. Kinger thought she reminded him of his mother? What a generous thing to say! She feels her cheeks warm with delight.
"Really?"
"Oh sure! You've both got that good heart that worries about everyone around you, even if it drives you a little crazy." Kinger winks.
"I would have liked to meet her..." Ragatha says.
"What about you? What was your mother like?"
Just the thought of her sours Ragatha's mood. She wasn't exactly the kind of person who would bake apple pies and sing to her children and drive them to soccer practice. How do you even begin to describe a person like her mother?
Best thing she could think to do was finesse the details. "Oh, you know... she's just... one of those moms..."
"She must feel really lucky to have a daughter as kind as you."
Lucky. "Lucky" isn't quite the word Ragatha's mother would use. 'Burdened" is what she'd say.
"Ragatha? What's wrong? Is it something I said?"
She realizes too late that her cheeks are wet with tears. Frantically, she wipes them away.
Kinger is still looking concernedly at her, reaching a hand out. "Ragatha, I didn't mean to-"
"I'm fine! I'm fine, really. I just... gah I'm stupid, I'm gonna go get some air. I'll see you later, Kinger." She hurriedly crawls out of the pillow fort, and closes it behind her. She knows she's just made a mess of things, but there's not much she can do about it now. Kinger saw her cry; there's no way to make this any less awkward.
God, why is she such a baby? What good is having friends like these if she's just going to drive them all away by annoying them all the time? They didn't deserve to have to put up with her. A miserable little nobody.
Her vision blurs as she starts to cry harder, making it more difficult to race back to her room.
---
Maybe it's her mother. Every time she thinks about her mother, she gets verklempt.
But that isn't quite true. When she thought about her in the bar during that lightning round, she hadn't felt like crying. It's just when Kinger is around.
Kinger must remind her of her mother somehow.
But that doesn't sound right either. Kinger is nothing like her mother. He couldn't be any further from her mother. He was nurturing, kind, wise, gentle. He was everything she wished that she had in a parent growing up.
Oh.
Well, shit. That would explain it.
She's lying here in her bed in the dark, crying like a child, feeling positively stupid. She had just run out on Kinger as they were talking about their mothers. In her mind, she relives the moment of shame when she realized that she had started weeping in front of him.
Way to go, Ragatha. You've made your closest friend uncomfortable.
She buries her face into pillow when she hears a knock at the door.
"Ragatha?"
That's Kinger's voice.
Of course, it had to be him.
She didn't consider that he would follow her. Surely his memories would have been wiped clean upon entering the light.
His voice comes again. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I just want to talk, see if maybe there's something I can do."
She doesn't exactly want him to see her like this, but he sounds rather sad himself, and she can't send him on his way knowing that he's this worried about her.
Weakly, she calls. "Come in."
Her doorknob clicks, and she looks up to see Kinger's face.
Or rather, half of his face, as the top half is hidden underneath a bucket.
The ridiculous sight makes her laugh, even through her despair. He must have put it on in order to stay oriented in order to go see her.
Once he is within her dimly lit bedroom, he carefully tosses the bucket aside and comes to sit next to her on her bed. Her laughter seems to infect him, as he too chuckles as he lowers himself.
"I wanted to come see if you were okay," he says, eyebrows forming a peak on his forehead as his eyes soften with care.
Of course he did. Why'd he have to be so perfect?
Ragatha sniffles pathetically. "I- I'm fine-"
Kinger jerks his pointer finger toward her face. "Don't say that you're fine," he scolds gently, like a disgruntled kitten, "You're upset about something, and you're allowed to be. You can just be sad. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to hide this from me, okay?
"I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but I'm always here to listen if you need to."
She wants to say no. She wants to tell him not to worry and that she'll be a-okay tomorrow. She wants him to forget about her and go about with his life and not know how much of a mess she is.
But looking into those deep blue eyes, so full of love and care, like it's the easiest thing in the world, she crumbles.
Her lip starts to quiver as sobs build up in her chest, finally leaping out of her as Kinger pulls her into an embrace. His hands cushion her back and her scalp as she cries into his robe.
Now that the floodgates have opened, there's no sense in trying to hold back now. Everything in her broken heart comes gushing out like a fountain, sobs shaking her frame with the force of them.
A few minutes pass, with not a sound uttered between them except Ragatha's broken whimpers. Even a good cry has it's end, and before Ragatha knows it, her chest slowly stops heaving as her breathing returns to normal.
Kinger hasn't stopped rubbing up and down her back the whole time.
With her sobs dying down, the air is now silent again, and Ragatha feels the need to fill the space.
"I'm sorry about all this. I just-" she hiccups, "I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I guess I'm just... not used to people being so nice to me."
It sounds pathetic as soon as it leaves her mouth.
She tries again. "Oh god, I mean- My... My mother wasn't really the... affectionate type. She never said things to me that made me feel good about myself. So when you say all those sweet things about how you're proud of me-"
"-it reminds you of what you didn't have." Kinger finishes.
She's surprised by how quickly he understood.
"Yeah... But, but, I don't want you to stop or anything! It's just an old wound, just one of those things" Ragatha stuttered.
Kinger squeezed a little tighter. "I get it. That must be a very complicated feeling."
He continues. "But for the record, you of all people deserve to have a parent treat you like you are their whole world. Their reason for existing. You're a treasure, Ragatha, and I'm sorry your mother wasn't brave enough to tell you that."
Ragatha almost thinks she's about to start crying again, but her ducts are just about run dry. Her chest swells, filling her with a level of peace she has not known in a long time.
What can she even say to something like that?
She settles on, "Thank you"
"Always" he replies.
Ragatha laughs to herself. "Man, I feel like a mess."
Kinger hums. "Well, if my memory serves me, there's something that I think can make you smile."
Butterflies start to flutter inside her stomach. A grin starts to stretch over her face, but she bites her lip and forces it into a straight line.
"You see, that's not a smile," he says, a smirk of his own overtaking his face, "but I've got just the cure for that!"
The hand on Ragatha's back adjusts itself to meet her side and starts to wiggle its fingers.
Her smile comes back full force, but she's quick to hide it in Kinger's chest.
While that hand plucks at her side, his other hand flutters at her neck.
"You're not getting me to smile. It's not happening" Ragatha dared.
"Oh, I think I just heard a little giggle!" Kinger teases softly. "That sounds promising. Now, let's see if we can get that smile..."
She feels as the hand at her neck moves down to spider over her belly. Her knees hitch upwards to try and protect her sensitive torso, but of course it's all for naught. Both because his hand is in the way and because she knows in her heart she doesn't want to stop him.
Ragatha can't help but laugh a little louder. Thankfully, most of its volume is muffled within Kinger's furry coat. She can actually feel the sadness wash away and get replaced with warm, silly joy. Is this what having a parent is like for most people? Lucky bastards.
Unbeknownst to her, Kinger is looking down upon her like she's the shiniest gem to ever grace the Earth. He takes a moment to laugh at her. "You know, it might help if your face wasn't buried in my robe."
His tease ignites a fighting spirit inside Ragatha, and against all better judgement, begins to squeeze Kinger's sides.
His body jolts hard as he lets out a startled laugh. "Aha-ehehehe!"
Not a second later, Kinger's hands are on her shoulders pushing her out of his robe and away from his torso.
She giggles now with a sense of light dread as she can now look Kinger in the eye.
He shakes his head amusedly at her. "Oh, you devious little-!"
His hands squeeze up and down both of her sides, all the way up to her underarms and then back down again to her lower belly. They move in opposite directions so that both hands are never in the same place at once. The sensation is downright absurd.
Ragatha cackles. "Oh my gohohod!"
"There's that smile! I knew it was in there somewhere!" Kinger cheers. "Has anyone ever told you you have a beautiful smile?"
"Juhuhuhust you!"
"Well, that's because it's true" He replies matter-of-factly.
Ragatha is beside herself in laughter, having lost all previous inhibitions. It's what she loved about tickling in the first place.
Right on cue, the tickles stop. That isn't what has her scared; she explicitly had told him to stop. Even if she didn't really mean it, it doesn't surprise her that he would stop just to be sure.
No, what scares her is that she just called Kinger "dad". Out loud.
And he had heard her.
She dares a peek up at his face and sees his eyes are glistening.
"What did you call me?" He whispers, voice breaking.
Oh, god. What has she done?
"Did you just call me 'dad'?"
Ragatha tries to think of something to say. Some clever excuse that can make this whole mistake disappear.
She doesn't get the chance, because her face is pulled back into Kinger's robe as he hugs her tight. So tight it almost hurts.
She huffs out a breath. "Uh- Kinger-"
"Oh! Right! Right, sorry." He fumbles, releasing her.
Nothing can erase the complete and total embarrassment she's feeling right now. But nothing can erase the full-bodied joy either. The shining look of complete and utter adoration in Kinger's eyes is too wonderful a sight to ignore. She can't imagine being any more lucky.
Ragatha glances down at her lap.
"I don't suppose we can pretend that didn't happen, huh?" She smiles, not meaning a word of her request.
Project hail mary (tickle fic: Ler!Ryland Grace, Lee!Reader)
🌌 summary: Affection is really important to you. Over time, you've learned to initiate hugs, and pats on the shoulder. You never thought you'd be able to ask Ryland to tickle you - but desperate times call for desperate measures.
🪐 tags: ryland grace & reader, tickling, fluff, 2.4k words
💫 prompt: "i have this thought but i’m too scared to consider it further on my own - imagine actually working up the courage to go up to ryland and ask him to tickle you. he’d be insufferable and would never let you live it down" -@/Kitkatfingers
🛰️ author's note: Heyyy I have no idea whether this is shit or not but it took me 1.5 weeks and a lot of sitting with my head on the desk so I hope yall enjoy <33
🌌credits: (thank you to @//harringtonsslvt for the post layout inspo! Space dividers by @//strangergraphics)
It was back again.
The wanting.
You had been keeping it controlled so far - after all, there were more important matters at hand. But things had been slow lately on the hail mary, and Ryland had not been helping.
You'd been close, in the way two people condemned to spend the rest of their lives in a metal box would be. You hugged. You bumped shoulders. You slept side by side. And you had stupid playfights.
Your thoughts float back to your most recent scuffle; how Grace had grabbed you by the shoulders, messed up your hair - how you'd tossed half-hearted punches at his shoulder, and he'd acted all offended. How he'd adjusted his grip where you'd slid down. How his hand had accidentally landed under your arm, and it had...well, tickled. You'd yelped, flailed, practically jumping out of Grace's headlock. The reaction had only prompted him to scramble after you, and the wrestling match, as it occasionally did, devolved into a tickle fight.
There seemed to be a mutual understanding that neither of you minded these too much, given how often they happened - humans needed touch, and...it was nice to make each other smile. Even it was incredibly silly.
If Grace had a problem with it, he'd never said - and besides, he never pushed your hands away, despite being more than capable.
...He probably had an inkling you had no issues with it either.
There was a look you shared, sometimes, whenever you successfully provoked him into tickling you - although you didn't always need to provoke him. Sometimes, you'd just look at him pleadingly, and he'd know. And after, you'd wipe tears of laughter from your eyes, and he'd adjust his glasses, and it would be there on his face. A knowing.
It was why you felt comfortable asking without asking, when the wanting arrived - you’d hide Ryland’s things, act extra snarky, squeeze his knee under the table - and if he didn’t tickle you, he still usually gave you some similar form of playful affection. It nearly always worked.
Nearly.
This time, though, was different. Despite your best efforts to drop hints all week, it appeared Grace was too engrossed in his work to pick up on any. You’d prodded his ribs, thrown in plenty of sarcastic jibes - and, though you were loathe to admit it, deliberately stretched for high shelves a few times within tickling distance. All that, and Dr. PhD still hadn’t gotten the message.
So…no, he wasn’t helping at all.
You'd looked into the science of it, once. Hugs released plenty of endorphins. It stood to reason touch-starved individuals might feel drawn to affection that caused laughter, which would release an extra kick of dopamine. It wasn't unfathomable that some people enjoyed being tickled.
So you knew you wanted it. And you could take a reasonable guess at why.
Didn’t make it any less humiliating to think about, though.
And now, after hours trying and failing to shut it out, there's a stubborn, giddy flutter settled between your heart and stomach. Your brain runs circles around the recent lack of touch, helpfully providing you with visions of hugs, playfights, cuddles, tickles, tickles, tickles-
This is bad.
You tap your pen furiously against your notepad, berating yourself for getting distracted again. A simple dilution calculation sits unfinished, abandoned in favour of your oddly specific yearnings.
C₁V₁ = C₂V₂.
The formula stares at you. It's simple: just plug in the values, make the needed solution. You’ve done it a million times by now.
Across the room, Ryland drums his fingers on the bench, his glasses habitually crooked as he contemplates his own data. It's only in your peripheral, but it's enough to scatter any possibility of concentrating. Your eyes linger a nanosecond too long on his hand, and you absolutely, totally do not contemplate his fingers tapping one-by-one like that against your ribs, so it's fine. You're fine.
Fuck.
Perhaps something more visual will help. You nudge the chair back, and grab a sample for the confocal microscope.
It's a more complex setup than the little desktop ones. Takes an eternity to switch the thing on - a million buttons, and loading screens, and safety checks.
You pass the time gazing intently at the desk.
Finally, it's ready. Taking a seat, you slot the sample in, and your hand drifts to the coarse focus dial, the sample shifting up and down with each movement. You will your eyes to stay locked on the viewport.
Your elbows bump against the desk as you hunch over the eyepiece. It's not comfortable, but you're used to it at this point, and it leaves your torso rather open to - nope. stop it.
Too late. The thought of hands, squeezing suddenly at your sides, flashes through your mind. Kneading. Poking. Teasing. A person, no one in particular, crowding closer to trap you against the bench, laughing low near your ear, his glasses bumping your neck-
God.
The fine focus does not make things any clearer.
"I can hear you thinking." A voice nearby. You nearly fall out your chair. Grace is stood over his laptop, hands propped against the table, glasses slid down his nose. Just…watching, apparently.
You steady your breathing. “Uh- what?”
“You’re distracted.” He steps closer.
“No, I’m not.”
“So…you meant to do that?” He points to the sample, which you have elegantly smushed against the microscope lens during your adjustments. Great. You rest your brow against the eyepiece in defeat.
“How many cover slips are we gonna lose to you, hm?” Ryland mutters, guiding you off the chair with a hand on your shoulder.
You nudge him. “Shut up.”
He nudges you back. “Hey, I’m looking out for our equipment, here.”
You reach over, adjusting his glasses for him. “You’re dragging me away from my work.”
He grins. “Work? What work?”
“Rude.” It’s too easy, really, to swipe your fingers over his neck – your hands are already there, and your brain has been screaming affection affection affection for hours now.
Grace, of course, leaps back with a squeak, half a giggle escaping before he regains his composure, hand held to his neck.
Mischief flashes through his features, for a moment. But he doesn’t take the bait.
“Alright, alright, sorry.” He folds his arms. “What’s going on?”
You huff. “Nothing, just…”
“Bored? Tired?” Ryland supplies. Your gaze drifts inexorably to his hands, which trace idle patterns over his own arms.
You are not going to get any work done like this.
“Kinda.”
You stride over, placing your hands on his shoulders, expression dour.
He tilts his head, frowning slightly.
“What, you need a hug?” His arms open wide, and you take the offer, even if it’s not quite what you’re after. It helps.
You spend a moment gathering your thoughts, Ryland giving you a brief but tight squeeze. It gives you the confidence to draw back and face him again.
“All good now?”
Heat crawls up your neck. For the fifth time in as many days, you give him The Look - the one that usually says everything you need it to.
He raises his eyebrows, uncertain.
“Okay, so…not all good, then?”
“Grace.” Your voice nearly cracks. Delirious, you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose - but…no, there’s not a glint of malice in his eyes.
“What, what do you need?” He’s completely oblivious.
“I want-” The rest of the words won’t come out. You give him one last pleading stare, hoping he’ll know the look in your eyes this time.
“What, what is it?”
Shit. You’re going to have to spell it out for him.
“Um- it’s been a while since- uh.” The next few seconds are filled with your various stutters. Grace sits through it all patiently.
Okay, deep breath. You place your hands together, and brute-force the words out.
“I, um. I want you to tickle me.”
Silence.
He leans back against the counter, eyes narrowing in the way they do when he finds something interesting.
And then, slowly…he smiles.
“...So you can ask for it.” His voice carries that familiar teasing lilt.
“You-You knew?”
“You are not subtle.” Grace doesn’t give you time to process the betrayal - just lunges forwards, scooping you into a hug from behind like it's nothing. His hands latch onto your hips, squeezing rapidly, and he laughs at the way you instantly start sinking downwards.
“That was so hard for you, wasn’t it?” He muses, spidering his fingers over your stomach, following you towards the floor. “You were thinking about it for days!”
That fluttering, hopeful thing from earlier does somersaults inside your chest, revelling at the familiar electricity running through your veins. The giddiness and joy at being held this way, despite Grace’s teasing, puts a silly grin on your face. You put your head in your hands, legs flailing wildly as you reach the ground. But Ryland’s not having it - he grabs your wrists, and slots out from behind you, choosing instead to sit over your legs. He pins your hands over your head, leaning closer.
You refuse to meet his gaze - and in your defence, it would be hard to - Grace’s free hand walks two fingers along the inside of your bicep, moving steadily towards your underarm. It’s rather distracting.
“Grahace-”
You risk a glance at him.
Bad idea. That grin is evil.
“You really missed this, didn’t you?” His hand swirls a tiny circle over your tricep, and your giggling stops being anticipatory. You frantically shake your head.
“Yea, you did.” He laughs, a sing-song tone to his voice. His fingers creep lower, slowly tracing around your navel. Your breath hitches in your chest, delicate laughter stuttering out.
“You missed being tickled.”
The heat rising to your cheeks is mortifying - you let out a noise somewhere between a giggle and a whine.
“Aw. Sorry, am I embarrassing you?”
“Yes-!” His hand abruptly claws at your side, and you tip your head back, lost in laughter. “No! Nonono-”
“Yes? No? Which is it?” Grace laughs. It’s a wicked noise. Horrible, even. You vow to yourself that you’ll tickle that laugh out of him once you’re free.
“FUCK you-”
“Tsk. That’s rude.” He stills his fingers, leaning in to look you in the eye. “I won’t tickle you then.”
…If the ship’s hull somehow breached, right now, and you fell through the laboratory floor into the frigid vacuum of space, you would spend your last moments grateful for the feeling of the cold against your raging blush.
Grace is attentively watching your reaction - which consists mostly of hiding your face against your pinned arms, and giggling through residual laughter. There may have been a very embarrassing flustered groan, but you don’t dwell on it.
“...Well?” He hovers a clawed hand over your tummy. “You owe me an apology.”
“Sorry, sorry-” You manage to squeak out, eyes closed tight once you see what he’s doing.
“...And?”
“And what?”
“And, what would you like me to do?” Grace looks at you expectantly.
Oh no.
He’s waiting for you to ask him again.
“Absolutely not.” You open your eyes. His hand is closer.
“...I just think it would help to practice asking, is all.”
“Ryland.”
“Ryland, now, huh? Must be bad.” He wriggles his fingers in the air, just a bit. Just an inch away. You can’t help it - you laugh a little.
“Plehease!”
He considers this - observes the shade of red your ears have turned - and snorts.
“...Alright, fine, be dramatic.”
His hand makes contact with your torso, sliding your shirt out the way as he spiders a pattern across your skin. Then, hand still poking along your side, he leans down, and blows a raspberry.
You forget most of the English language for a moment, back arching in a useless attempt to throw him off, your focus completely consumed by the playful, buzzy feeling under your skin. At one point, you make either a snort or a hiccup, you’re not sure, and Ryland laughs against your belly, which tickles even more. Once he runs out of air, he pulls back, and pays attention to your ribs, his fingers climbing up each one with horrible, ticklish accuracy.
“...Two…” he mutters. You furrow your eyebrows between giggles, confused by the lack of context.
“GRACE-!” You manage to shout, unable to form a sentence through the combination of laughter and utter mortification. Pulling at your arms does nothing.
“Shush, now, you’ll make me lose count.”
His hand shifts to the next rib, one finger positioned above and the other below as he digs lightly into the space between the bones, and keeps counting.
“Three-”
Ok, now you actively wish there was a hull breach.
“Four-” He continues, picking up his pace slightly to observe how your legs kick out more in response. “Only twenty ribs to go, you’re doing great.”
“Screhew you-!” You’re careful to leave the profanities out this time.
Grace smiles. “On second thought, this is going too slow. Fivesixseven-”
His hand crawls rapidly upwards, slightly trailing towards your spine as it does so. At long last, he lets your hands go, so he can have both of his back. The freedom doesn’t do you much good - you feel like a puddle. Your limbs can barely move from the laughter. You hold onto Grace’s wrists loosely - but don’t push them away.
“You gonna let me go?” By now, he’s got both hands jammed under your arms, barely moving. He doesn’t need to move them, really - you keep squirming and laughing yourself into an infinite feedback loop with them stuck there like that.
“Plehease-” You can’t think through the giggles.
“I’m not doing anything! I’m not moving!” Grace is laughing along with you at this point, apparently highly entertained by your predicament. “Oho, you’re adorable.”
By some miracle, you finally manage to lift your arms enough for him to draw back. He doesn’t touch you again - just sits back, watching as you flop your arms over your face and ride out the tsunami of residual giggles he’s caused.
After ten seconds of this, he leans forwards again, poking at your wrist.
“You ok under there? Did I break you?”
If you hadn’t just been tickled to pieces, you probably wouldn’t have grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. But you have, so that’s what you do.
“Hey,” He laughs, stroking your hair. “Happy now?”
And despite the mischief in his tone - despite the stomach-flipping embarrassment you feel - despite the fact he’d known what you wanted the whole time - you nod.
Ryland grins wider. “Good.”
Then, he leans over to catch your eye, his voice a tad smug.
*cough cough* 3 thousand word tadc tickle fic *cough cough* This is longer than my last essay for college, so I'm kind of embarrassed lol.
Ler Pomni, lee Ragatha. I hope you enjoy 😅
“Hmm, so if I scratch over here…”
POHOHOMNI-
“I get cackles, got it. And if I knead right here…”
“*snort* NAHAHA NOHOHO *snort*”
“Awww, so this is the spot that gives me snorts! Soooo cute!”
A few days after Caine was deleted, the circus members were still recovering from what went down in the previous days.
Everyone was pretty exhausted in more ways than one, but by talking to each other, four of the members were able to move on relatively quickly.
Zooble and Gangle were immediately there for each other, and have been attached at the hip since.
They talked about what they went through in Caine's torture and reassured each other that amazing regardless of their insecurities and no matter what state they were in. When they are together, nothing can take them down.
Pomni and Kinger also had a talk with each other, both of them connecting over worries that they could have gone about things differently and possibly saved Caine.
In the end, they accepted that they did the best with what they had, and that if they did anything different everyone's fates could have been much worse.
That left Ragtha and Jax as the only two who didn't open up, and boy were they making it difficult for the others to get them to.
Jax wouldn't even get close to the group since Caine got deleted. He would constantly walk off on his own, and if anyone went near him he would walk away immediately.
Ragtha, on the other hand, would stay near the others most of the time. Once in a blue moon even she would walk away, which was concerning since she loved being near others, but she would always come back within an hour or so.
Oftentimes she would sit next to the others but stay silent, looking down with a sad, broken expression on her face.
Something especially bad had obviously happened to her during Caine's torture, but she wouldn't come clean with what it exactly was. The others could guess that it had something to do with her mother, but they couldn't do much about it unless she gave them details.
It was frustrating, but they had to wait for her to decide when she was ready to talk.
Pomni finally got the opportunity to try to drag her back out of metaphorically hiding today, when she started commenting on a conversation Pomni was having with Kinger.
Gangle and Zooble were going out for a walk, while Jax was off doing who knows what who knows where. This meant that Pomni, Kinger, and Ragtha were alone on the couch, and Pomni took the opportunity to ask Kinger some questions she wasn't sure the others were ready to think about yet.
Out of nowhere, Ragatha finally started talking when Pomni mentioned the abstracted people. The Ragdoll said that if Caine disappearing put them back to normal, they were probably scared but working together to figure out where they were. That they may have abstracted, but they were mentally strong regardless.
The sad look on Ragatha's face prompted Pomni to offer her something she knew would make her feel better, even though it wasn't the jester's own thing.
A hug.
The ragdoll had an adorable hopeful expression on her face for a few seconds, before a stream of complicated emotions flowed through her expression, and she ended up turning the embrace down.
Pomni could tell that she wanted the hug and was just saying no because she knew Pomni was touch adverse.
But Pomni was an adult who knew what she could and could not give.
And at that moment, she wanted to give her friend a hug.
So when Pomni insisted and Ragatha responded with “but you don't like it,” Pomni lunged at her with a “don't you tell me what I like!”
During the hug attack, Pomni eventually ended up accidentally squeezing the doll's sides, causing her to let out a snort. Both of them freezed for a second, before Pomni gained a huge smirk on her face.
Which leads us to now.
“You know, I really am appreciating the opportunity to catalog all of your ticklish spots, Raggy, but if you want it to stop I will. I haven't heard a stop yet though~”
Right as she finished her sentence, Pomni shot a hand up to Ragtha’s neck, fluttering her fingers and getting the doll to scrunch up in response.
Despite how the sensation of being tickled was driving her insane, Ragtha couldn't bring herself to ask for it to stop. She was touch starved even before she came to the circus, so by this point she was touch famished.
Plus, Pomni was being so gentle with her that it even felt kind of nice.
“Ohohoho, that kind of sounded like a challenge! Am I not tickling you enough? Do I have to try harder?”
“Nohohoho!”
“No? Are you sure? It seems like you want me too?”
Pomni stayed gentle, but she started switching spots rapidly.
She spidered over her stomach, squeezed her hips, and kneaded under her arms one after the other, leaving the ragdoll a hysterical mess.
With her thumbs still rubbing circles under the doll's arms, Pomni decided to start teasing her friend to rile her up even more.
She missed her laugh more than she realized.
“I'm going to find your weak spot eventually. Then I'll get you to smile on command whenever I want you to with just a poke. I won't let you keep it from me anymore!”
“NAHAHAHA NOHOHO!”
“Ye-he-hes!”
“If I remember correctly, Ragatha is really sensitive on the spot where her back meets her sides-”
“KIHIHINGER!”
The two women had forgotten the chess piece was there for a moment, but Pomni recovered from the shock quickly. She was eager to test out that information as promptly as possible.
“Ooooo, really? Thanks Kinger!”
Pomni stopped for a moment, trying to assess what would be the best way to go about tickling Ragatha's supposed sweet spot.
“Hmmm, I could always just turn you over, but then I don't get to see that silly smile of yours, which would be such a shame…”
Despite Ragatha's best attempts to hide it, Pomni knew her well enough at this point to catch the small glint of insecurity in her eye.
The jester sighed.
“A silly smile that is so adorable that I can't bare it disappearing. Seriously, can't you see how much effort I'm putting in just to see it? I'm honestly kind of offended that you think I don’t have a good sense of what's worth working for.”
The ragdoll blushed like mad, not used to being complemented at all. She also developed a nervous grin as she watched an evil one form on Pomni's face; one that showed off her sharp teeth and absolutely signaled mischievous intentions.
“What, no I-”
“You were totally thinking, ‘Pomni is doing this because she thinks it's funny’ instead of ‘Pomni wants to make me laugh because she cares about me a lot and loves seeing me happy.’ Well you know what? I'm not going to take such slander!”
Pomni decided to turn her over sideways and pin one arm above her head. She moved over to the arm of the couch with her first, moving a pillow under her head so she wouldn’t get hurt. Ragatha was both touched and flustered by the care Pomni showed her, and ended up burying her face in the pillow due to embarrassment.
“Hey, no hiding!”
Pomni fluttered over her neck again, getting her to expose her shaky grin as she brought her shoulders up.
“There you are! Now where was I… oh yeah!”
Pomni reminded Ragatha's arm as she dragged a finger over the spot Kinger mentioned before, earning a squeal in response.
“Whoa, Kinger wasn't kidding! This spot is so bad for you!”
Before following through on her plans to bring Ragatha to tears of joy, Pomni looked at Ragatha with a warm smile and double checked that she was ok with it.
“Just say stop and I will, ok? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”
Ragatha looked back at her nervously, but still smiling.
“I-I'm ok with it. This isn't so bad…”
Pomni's smirk came back, her sharp teeth being shown off in all their glory.
“You say that now, hehehe~”
Pomni moved her head back down to her side, closer than Ragatha expected her to.
“Prepare yourself!”
“W-Wait whaHAHAHA AHAHA! AAAAAHAAA POHOHOMNIIII!”
Ragatha's screams could be heard throughout the circus as the jester nibbled up and down the edge of her side, almost as if she was eating corn or watermelon.
Nothing tickled her more in her life, and she was losing her mind.
“Nom nom nom nom nom! Ur min!”
Pomni's voice came out muffled as she relentlessly gnawed on her friend. She looked up to see an incredibly wide smile on the doll's face, and the joy from finally seeing her happy caused the jester to laugh herself, making the tickling even worse.
Just then, Zooble and Gangle came back from their walk hand in hand. They planned on going for a little longer, but heard Ragatha screaming and came to investigate.
Unfortunately for Ragtha, their presence alone wasn't enough to get Pomni to stop, and the nibbling persisted despite there now being two more people in the audience.
“Awww, I haven't heard you laugh in so long Raggy! It's so cute!”
Gangle and the rest of the gang besides Jax had taken to nicknaming her and each other more often now. They had gotten closer after all they had been through, and settled many of their differences shortly after Caine's stunt with the “escape the circus” adventure.
“Also Pomni, I see you found her weak spot~ We could hear the laughter from halfway across the circus, hehe.”
This finally was enough to get the jester to stop, pulling away from her side after one last nibble.
“You already knew she was ticklish too? How?”
Gangle looked over at the embarrassed face of the doll, before looking back up at Pomni with a sheepish expression.
“Sorry, I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone about it. I think it would embarrass her a bit too much.”
Zooble then decided to chime in, smug about acquiring this new information.
“Well I certainly didn't know about this before, but I definitely am not going to forget it! This is gold, now I know what to do when you go into mom mode… we definitely shouldn't let Jax know though.”
“Oh 100%.”
“For sure.”
For a moment everyone was quiet, everyone staring fondly at the doll, happy that she was smiling again.
Ragatha, so used to thinking that everyone only tolerated her and nothing else didn't know how to handle the obvious love the others were showing they had for her.
She ended up burying her face into the pillow again, causing the others to laugh at her affectionately.
“Ah, this brought back memories. Me and my wife used to do things like this all the time. I'm glad you all can find simple joys like this too, even now.”
Kinger felt guilty for a lot of the things that went wrong in the circus, but he was relieved the results of his creations didn't take away all the happiness of his fellow digital prisoners.
The others smiled back at him; even Ragatha, who stuck her head back up despite how flustered she was.
Pomni responded “We're glad too,” before turning back to Ragatha and smirking at her.
“Hmmmm, I don't know if I'm ready to stop just yet. Maybe if you say ‘I'm cute and lovable’ I'll stop. Or you know, just say stop, which you haven't done yet.”
The others snickered at Ragatha as she hid her face for a third time, redness almost as dark as her hair spreading all the way to her neck.
“I'm not either of those things.”
The others gasped at her audacity, ready to give her a piece of their minds for such lies.
“Oh yes you are! You are absolutely adorable and lovable!”
Pomni moved her hand over to her stomach again, scribbling gently.
“And stoooop hidiiiiing! I wasn't lying about my compliments at all.”
The ragdoll giggled into the pillow, unable to resist and bury herself in a self-doubt spiral.
Gangle went over and poked the ragdoll's cheek with a pout, causing her to squeal.
“You're always there for everyone when they need it, how can that not be loveable.”
“Gangle is right,” said Zooble as they moved in closer too. “You even try to be there for Jax, even though he always pushes us away. You may make us feel a little bit babied sometimes, but we can tell you care. Don't be so harsh on yourself.”
“Buhuhut I-”
“No more denial! Just accept it, you're adorable and we love you!”
Pomni sped up her fingers again, making the doll laugh more and stopping her from protesting further.
Gangle, having had enough of her friend’s blasphemy, moved her hand ribbon to the doll's neck. Then she lazy swiped it back and forth, increasing the amount of giggles coming out of the woman even more.
“Careful Raggy~ If you keep lying like that, I just might need to join in~”
The thought of Gangle joining in sent shivers down Ragatha's spine. The only reason Kinger knew about her weak spot in the first place was because of a pirate adventure from before Pomni or even Zooble arrived at the circus.
Gangle was on a team with Kinger and Ragatha was on a team with Jax and Kaufmo. Despite being on a team with less people, Gangle and Kinger were actually winning the race to the treasure. Kinger's actions as a captain were so random that no one could predict him, and he ended up having his team's ship dodge most of the opposition's attacks.
Ragatha ended up falling overboard when Jax had Kaufmo ram their boat into Gangle and Kinger's, but Gangle managed to save her. Unfortunately for Ragtha, she needed to know what tricks Jax had planned so that they could be prepared for accordingly, sooo…
Ragatha was lucky Gangle was kind enough to not let Jax see her interrogation method.
At least she was gentle.
“Same. You know, the latest hand I've been trying out has some sharp claws that should be very effective-”
At Zooble also announcing their interest in making her squeal, Ragatha finally caved.
“Nohoho! Fuhuck, Ihhihi'll tahahalk!”
The others giggled at the rare swear from the ragdoll, still overly amused by the act since they couldn't do it for so long. Pomni pulled her hands away, before putting them back for a moment to readjust Ragatha so she wouldn’t fall off her lap.
“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but please don't push us away. Don't hide your needs from us thinking that they are an inconvenience. They aren't, and if we feel like we can't help you, we'll just say no. We're all adults here, we can make decisions for ourselves.
…
Sooooo… do you want a hug?”
“…Yeah.”
Pomni then brought Ragatha into a tight hug, the others joining in as well.
“That's my girl. And if you ever want to talk about what happened back there, you can come to me, ok?”
“You can come to any of us. Well, any of us except maybe Jax. We're all in this together.”
“Mhm, we want to be there for you Raggy. You are important to us and we enjoy being with you.”
“The worst thing you can do in the circus is make someone feel unloved. Never think for a second that you aren't treasured here.”
Tears started showing up in Ragatha's eye, and a rare expression started showing up on her face. Her mouth was formed into a smile that was slightly bigger than when her lips just formed a straight line, but much smaller than her signature “everything is going to be ok!” smile.
It was probably the most real smile she ever had in the circus, and it was cute enough that when the other finally pulled away, they started cooing over her as they wiped her face dry.
As they sat up, the others moved to their own places on the couch as Pomni pulled the ragdoll into a side hug to keep her upright.
“Now the only person we have to rope back in is Jax. We should all be together before we decide what to do next.”
Zooble sighed at that, knowing she was right as much as she got annoyed by the purple rabbit.
“But how are we going to get him to listen? He always just leaves whenever we go near him.”
“...I think me and Pomni should go talk to him.”
The others looked at Ragtha in shock, not expecting her to include herself in the group that should go and talk to Jax.
“Pomni should obviously be one of the people who talks to him, since she is the one he gets along with the most. And I should go because… because I know about some of the things he went through that no one else is aware of. Even if he hates me, I don't think anyone else here can help him look at those events through a perspective other than his own.
I want to help him get past some things he doesn't want to let go.”
Everyone was silent for a moment after that, taking in Ragtha's words and debating on whether or not it was a good idea in their heads.
Ragtha held her head down, not wanting to see their expressions when they inevitably attempted to talk her out of it, until-
“Ok. Let's go then.”
Ragtha raised her head back up as Pomni eased Ragatha back onto the couch a bit before taking her arm away and standing up.
Once she was facing Ragtha she held her arm out again, offering her a hand this time.
“We'll talk to him together and bring him back.”
Ragatha had a surprised expression on her face for a second, before she took the hand offered to her and stood up.
i mean if you’d Wanna write that caine x reader fic with a ler reader I’d Love to see it,,,,little whimsical mf with that huge ego needs to be put in his place imo /nf
STOP DRINKING COFFEE, WE GOTTA GO ON AN ADVENTURE
Caine x Reader
Summary: Caine seems keen on giving you a tour. You are not as enthusiastic.
Word Count: 2,268
[Thank you for indulging me!]
This is a tickle fic!
~🍓~
It had been a few months since you found yourself in this digital circus. While it was definitely a struggle at first to fully comprehend that there was no way out, you were never going to see your loved ones again, and not even the sweet release of death could save you, you had to admit you were doing a great job with getting used to things around here. Yep, most people would have gone crazy by now, but not you. You were as happy-go-lucky as you always were.
You did a fist pump just to show how great at coping you really were.
The fact that this place had some cute amenities like a café did make the transition a bit easier. The coffee tasted sort of like the real thing.
Caine jumped at you from behind the counter.
You fell off the barstool. “Holy sh—”
“Come ON!” Caine’s arms waved wildly in the air. “We gotta go on an adventure!!!”
“Right now?” You used the stool as a crutch to get up. “I haven’t finished my coffee.”
“No time!” Caine cut you off.
He grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, and in the blink of an eye, the two of you were floating miles above the circus grounds. If you squinted, you could barely make out the polygon grass below you.
Now, it was your turn to scream. You reached behind you, blindly sweeping until you managed to grab onto Caine’s arm. You didn’t want him to get any bright ideas about potentially letting you go.
“Caine! What is this?” While you wanted to gesticulate frantically to show him just how mad you were, your hands were also quite preoccupied at the moment.
“Why, it’s our adventure, of course!” Caine raised an index finger for emphasis. “As the newest member of our crew, it is my responsibility to give you a tour of our digital realm!” His voice echoed at those last two words.
“What? But I’ve been here for months!” You kicked your legs aimlessly. “I don’t need a tour! At least, not anymore!”
“Nonsense!” Caine shook his head, clearly not listening to anything you said. “I have gotten feedback from Pomni that my usual way of introducing our new members to their new home can be a bit…intense. So, allow me to—”
“No!” You shouted. The sheer height was starting to make you dizzy. “Put me down!” You weren’t sure if these cartoon bodies could survive a fall of this height, but you weren’t eager to contribute to the research.
You swung your leg back to get enough momentum to kick Caine in the stomach. You weren’t aiming particularly hard. You didn’t want him to drop you. You just wanted him to realize just how displeased you were with the current circumstances.
“Ack—! Don’t do that!”
“Then, put me down!”
“Absolutely not! We haven’t even started on our wonderful adventure!”
Now, Caine was just being stubborn. Fine, if he wasn’t going to be convinced, then you would have to force him to lower you back to the ground.
You mustered the inner confidence to let go of Caine’s arm and grab at the lapels of his jacket. “I wanna get down!”
Caine reeled back on instinct. He tried to pry you off of him, but you held on hard. “Get off me!”
“No!”
Your hold began to loosen. For a moment, you lost your footing, and you slipped down an inch. Your heart began to race as you scrambled up to readjust your grip. On instinct, you smushed your face into his shoulder. You didn’t want to see yourself plummet to your death. Your fingers clawed their way around his body just to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall during the kerfuffle.
You could feel Caine’s muscles(?) stiffen underneath you. His hand, which he had at some point placed on your mid-back, tightened as though he was trying to restrict you physically.
A pause.
“Don’t do that,” Caine said.
His tone had lost all of its showmanship quality, now replaced with what vaguely sounded like an oddly high-pitched whine at the back of his throat.
Was that jerk laughing at you? Was that it? Did he find you fearing for your life that hilarious?
With newfound vigor, you dug your nails into Caine’s jacket and clung on. Caine made a strangled sound. It wasn’t one of pain (not that you thought you could hurt him) or even of annoyance. It was sharp and small and sort of stilted.
You paused, taking the time to tilt your head back and glare at him.
Wall-eyed, Caine stared at you.
You shifted your fingers deeper into his side.
“GHK—!” Now, that sound was unmistakable.
Caine jerked mid-air, sending both of you bobbing a few feet to the left. You yelped and latched onto him tighter, but that only seemed to make things worse as he veered to the right.
“St-Stop that!” Caine exclaimed. A hint of desperation clung to the back of his voice, hardly obfuscated by his stutter.
You frowned. You could use this somehow. Probably. Maybe.
“Not until you put me down,” you said.
When he didn’t budge, you scribbled your fingers against his side. The movement was awkward, mechanical, at first, because you were still clinging to him for dear life. It didn’t seem to matter much, though. The effect was immediate. His shoulders shot up, and his jaw clacked down as a flurry of laughter tore through him.
“Ahaha—Nohohoho! Stahahap that!” Caine grabbed at your shoulders, but that didn’t really do anything to make you stop. “This is—” He interrupted himself with an odd-sounding snort. “Entihihirely unprofessional!”
“You’re the one who kidnapped me.” Your fingers continued to climb higher until they made their way to his ribs.
“I did nohoho such thing—!” Caine gasped when you started flexing your fingers experimentally against what felt like bone. “AHAHAHAHA!” The sudden cackle made you flinch. His arms shook, seemingly caught between wanting to hold onto you and wanting to tear your hands off of him. “FINE! FIHIHINE!” His yelps sounded more like croaks at this point. You stopped for a moment to hear him out. “Perhahaps this tour can be conducted at a slightly lower altitude…”
The world lurched. You yelped as the circus grounds rushed closer beneath you, like an elevator dropping too fast. Caine seemed eager to hurl himself to the ground. Perhaps, he was worried that you would start up again.
“Be careful!” You shouted, but you were already on the ground before you could finish the last syllable.
Caine hovered next to you, brushing the imaginary dirt off your shoulder.
“There,” he announced with barely contained smugness. It seemed that he had already shaken off what had happened. “See? Perfectly safe. No harm done. Another successful act of benevolent leadership from your ever-reliable ringmaster.”
You stared at him.
Several words had come out of his mouth that you strongly disagreed with. You should let him have a piece of your mind about how you really felt about his so-called benevolent leadership after messing with your coffee and flinging you in the air.
Unfortunately, you weren’t particularly the talking type.
So, you tackled him to the ground.
Caine squawked as he landed awkwardly on his stomach. You sat down on his back, positioning your legs to pin him to the ground. “What are you doing?” His words came out clipped and harsh. He seemed to be too taken aback to remember he could teleport away.
“You seriously call that successful?”
“Well, yes, I suppose I wou—AHAHAHAHA!”
You pounced on his ribs, once more, since that seemed to be the spot that gave him a bit of trouble while he was busy swinging you around mid-air. Caine writhed underneath you. He clawed at the grass, but the flat texture barely provided any friction for him to grab onto. You could feel his legs kick out from underneath you. Considering how compact Caine’s body was, you ended up bouncing with each kick, but you held on fast and kept tickling him.
“You could have asked before doing any of that!” You lightly raked your fingertips up each crevice of his ribs. You did not leave any one untouched as you carefully counted up each side. You lingered just long enough at each spot to make him jerk and sputter before moving on to the next. “Now, my drink is probably lukewarm.”
Caine lifted his head weakly. He turned to the side in an attempt to make eye contact with you. Perhaps puppy-dog eyes were a potential strategy of his. Either way, you didn’t get to find out because you took the opportunity to wiggle your index finger under his chin.
A sudden spurt of laughter came out between puffed cheeks. “Pfttehehe…!” It was less of a giggle and more of a raspberry. You chuckled.
Caine shot his head back to the ground and wrapped his arms around the entirety of his upper jaw to keep his mouth shut.
“Aww, Caine!” You leaned forward. Any semblance of anger seemingly melted away at the mere sight of him trying to hide away. “Are you embarrassed?”
Caine shook his head into the grass. “Nnnehehe…”
“Is that a no?” You asked. “So, you’re not embarrassed?”
With his arms situated above his head like that, it left his armpits completely exposed. You wondered if Caine realized that. Surely, he wouldn’t be this naive to…
You dug your fingers into his armpits.
Caine shrieked.
Maybe he was.
“WAHAHAHA!” Caine’s arms slammed down to his sides with frightening speed. Oh, darn, now your hands were trapped. Oh, well. “Nahahaha—! Nohohot theheHEHEHEERE!” He screamed. “Anywhere buhut—AHAHAHA!! Thehehehere!”
“Ah, so, we have preferences now, do we?”
You drilled your thumbs into the hollows of his armpits. He arched his back. His knees dug into the ground as he tried to give himself the proper leverage to push himself up, but you refused to give him the chance. Not until he apologized.
“HAHAHAHA!” Caine’s laughter turned silent for a few beats. You could feel him squirming underneath you. His shoulders shook violently, which was the only indication he was still laughing. His cackles, loud and desperate, came back at full force once you started prodding at his sides. “HA! EHEHEHE!”
You drummed his sides in quick, uneven taps. Every so often, you made sure to squish the muscle extra hard just to hear him squeal. “Are you ready to apologize, Caine?”
“For WHAHAHAHAT?!”
You blinked. Even when being tickled silly, he still had the gall to talk back. Well, if he wanted to be tickled so bad, he could have just said so.
“If you really don’t know, then I guess I’ll tell you,” you said, “Let’s see…you could apologize for interrupting my me-time, for not letting me finish my drink, for dragging me thousands of feet in the air, for refusing to put me down when I asked…” With every new thing you listed, you returned to spidering your fingers inside the hollows of his underarms. You delighted in the way Caine would let out a new squeaky shriek each time. If you were lucky, you would be rewarded with a snort.
Caine thrashed around. He punched the grass with his fists. The tips of his shoes dug into the ground. “AHAHA! STAHAHAP! Pleeehease!” He hiccuped. “I cahahan’t tahahake this anymore!”
Hearing Caine whine so desperately was enough to give you pause, but that only lasted for a second. “Not until you apologize,” you said.
“FIHIIHIHI–AHAHA!” Tears welled up in Caine’s eyes and dribbled down his jaw. Ew. It looked like spit. “I’m sohohoho–s-sohohoohoryy! Now just stop! HAHAHA!”
True to your word, you stopped. You moved off his back and sat down in the grass next to him.
Caine was heaving violently. He tried to stand up on his hands and knees, but his limbs were still shaking too much to support him. He was still hiccuping, the sound quiet and gentle compared to the harsher wheezes.
You probably would have felt bad for taking things too far if he weren’t an AI. Caine wasn’t human. He probably dealt with much worse daily, and it wouldn’t even phase him.
“Thank you…” Caine said. His words were heavy and drawn out as he was still struggling to catch his breath. That was pretty odd for an AI, now that you thought about it. “Now, where were we?” Caine stumbled onto his feet. It took him a little bit to regain his bearings, but he was floating in the air within seconds.
“Uh—”
“That’s right!” He announced, back to his regular showman voice. “We might have had a brief interruption, but now we’re ready to get back to the tour!!!”
“Wait!” You held up your hands. Did he listen to a word you said? “We can continue the tour after I finish my drink! Okay?” That was probably the closest you could get to a compromise with Caine. You could probably negotiate the whole being airborne thing a little later.
“What? No! We’re already behind schedule!” To prove his point, Caine shoved his wrist into your face. But there wasn’t a watch or anything else there.
You didn’t say anything. Instead, you wiggled your fingers in his direction.
Caine tensed up and backed away a few inches, which made you giggle. “Alright! Fine! Tour after the coffee break!” His next sentence came out so quickly that the words slurred together into just one word. “Here,I’lltakeyouthere!”
He grabbed you by the elbow, and, in an instant, you were back in the cafe. Yay!
