So here we go!! I know it's short, I'll pay you guys back with more tadc fics <3
ENJOY!!
Lee! Ribbit, Lers! Kaufmo + Jax
~
Jax, Ribbit, and Kaufmo were stargazing.
The night was magical.
Perfect, even.
And the trio were all sat together on a plaid picnic blanket, staring up at the sky.
Jax on the left, Kaufmo on the right, and Ribbit in between them.
For a while, it was silent, but then...
"H- Hey!! K- Kaufmohoho!!" Ribbit's contagious laughter suddenly filled the air, and the rabbit looked over at her.
"What are y-" His eyes widened, before a smirk spread on his face when he noticed the frog getting tickled. "Oh... Oh!~"
"Jahahax!! Hehehelp me!!" She reached out with her left hand, the right one clutching her stomach - the spot she was being 'tortured'.
"I think he's going to come and help ME if I'm honest." The clown snickered, shoving both of his gloved hands under Ribbit's arms.
"Nahaha!!" She squirmed, nearly kicking Kaufmo directly in the face, but he managed to dodge, taking the opportunity to straddle the frog.
"Nohoho! Stahahap it!" Just as his fingers were about to descend onto her stomach, Ribbit grabbed his hands and kept them distant with all the strength she had.
"Hm, if only it was that simple... In case you forgot, we're not the only ones here~" Kaufmo grinned, nodding at Jax and lifting Ribbit's arms high above her head.
"Nononono!! Absolutely not! Jax I swear to- GAHAHAHA-" She didn't have time to react before the rabbit dug his fingers into her ribs and vibrated them, making the sensation even worse.
A series of bleeps and censored words came from her mouth as she cackled, making the other two giggle with her.
"Aww~ I think your ribs are a bit ticklish!" Jax teased, smiling all the while.
"YOHOU GUYS SUHUHUHUCK!!" Tears pricked at her eyes, so the pair of tormentors decided that was enough.
Kaufmo let her arms drop down to protect her midriff, lightly poking at her cheek.
"I didn't even do anything to deserve that..." The frog pouted.
The clown just shrugged, "It was too quiet for my liking."
"What, so you had to force me to laugh because you're just that unfunny?"
Kaufmo gasped dramatically, "How dare you!! You know what-"
"BWAHAHA!! Kahahahaufmo!!"
Meanwhile, Jax sat back and threw his head back with a chuckle, looking up at the starry sky.
Having fun with his best friends like this, he wouldn't have it any other way.
~
I hope it was good!! It was my first time writing for this trio, and I absolutely adore them.
PLEASE FEEL FREE (and encouraged) TO SEND TADC ASKS!! I'LL WRITE FOR ANYBODY!!
Summary : Aziraphale has been laughing at Crowley all day. Maybe it’s the demon’s turn to laugh for a change?
A/N : this fic takes place after s1 but before s2! so obvs no spoilers for s2 here 😁 i also have not gotten my laptop fixed unfortunately so if there’s any errors it’s prbly cause i wrote this on my phone which i’m Not used to LOL
Word Count : 3304
hope u enjoy!! :)
. . .
When Aziraphale gets in these moods, Crowley can’t help but smile. Well, internally smile. He sorta prides himself on the air of mystery that surrounds his emotions. So he bites his tongue as Aziraphale giggles at him, laughing at how utterly annoyed Crowley looks by his antics.
Aziraphale had found an old joke book in the shop. Well, not really old, when in the hands of beings that have existed since the literal dawn of time. Actually, it couldn’t have been published more than 30 years ago. But it was old in the sense that Aziraphale hadn’t touched it since it had been brought in all those years ago.
Aziraphale told a vague story to Crowley about how it had landed in his possession (this was, of course, after telling him a truly horrible knock-knock joke that Crowley demanded an explanation for why he was being tortured so unjustly). But that story doesn’t matter anymore. What does matter is how giggly Aziraphale has become since realizing how irritating this all was to Crowley.
“Blehck, HORRIBLE, just fffffucking—You’re the angel, I’m the one supposed to be torturing you right now,” said Crowley, exaggerating his hatred of dad jokes just a bit (not by much, these jokes truly were horrible) just to see Aziraphale do that thing when he giggles, covering his mouth and clutching that wretched joke book.
“That was a really bad one, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale said once he collected himself.
“Yes, yes, it was, now will you please stop before I groan myself to death?”
“Always with the dramatics, you are,” said Aziraphale, before grinning, “Just one more?”
Crowley grimaced. “Grk…for the road, I suppose.”
Aziraphale beamed. “Yes, for the road!” He stuck his nose right back into the book, and it wouldn’t be such an unfamiliar sight if he hadn’t been looking up at Crowley every other second just to watch the demon stir.
When Crowley heard a gasp from Aziraphale, he knew he’d found his grand finale. Maybe he’d saved the best for last? (And in the angel’s opinion, he had. Just not in Crowley’s favor.)
“Alright. Are you ready?”
“Get on with it.”
“Yes, but are you ready ready?”
Crowley stuck an eyebrow up. Aziraphale just kept smiling. ‘He really is in the best mood today, isn’t he?’ Crowley thought.
“Crowley, do tell me…when is a door not a door?” His cheeks were plump with the force of his giddy smile.
Crowley blinked. His arms were crossed, laying back lazily against the bookshop’s old cushion chair. He tapped his finger against his arm impatiently.
Of course, this just made Aziraphale smile bigger.
“Come on! You have to play along, it’s part of the fun!”
“For you, angel, part of the fun for you.”
“Maybe you’ll start having fun too if you work with me here.”
“You’re working me, that’s what’s happening right now.”
“Just ask and this will all be over with,” Aziraphale raised his brows for a moment like he does when he gets all smug and silly. Crowley had to bite his tongue not to smile at that.
“Ffffffine,” Crowley sighed hard in feigned exasperation. “Well, I just don’t know, angel! When would a door not be a door? Seems like a paradox to me!”
Aziraphale bit his lip. “When it’s ajar!”
Crowley could only stare blankly at the tittering angel before him. It was a bit hard to conceal his own giggles as Aziraphale burst into laughter seeing Crowley’s unamused expression. But he held steadfast, refusing even the slightest chortle. Crowley hadn’t seen Aziraphale laugh like this in what felt like a millennia.
“You’re a silly one, Aziraphale. A real splinter in my ass.”
Crowley hadn’t seen a more angelic sight in so long. He felt his own face grow warm watching as Aziraphale tried collecting himself, but found he’d been caught back in his deadly case of the giggles. It was just precious.
“You think you’re a real comedian, don’t you?” Crowley said while trying to cover his own smile slyly, elbow now propped on the arm of the chair as he pushed his face into his hand. He tried looking as annoyed as possible.
Soon, Aziraphale caught his breath, a stray giggle leaving every few moments despite himself. They were now staring at each other, both too lost in the moment to think too hard on the implications of it.
But, as it usually goes in moments like this, Aziraphale put the brakes on first. He sat the book on the side table next to him before pushing himself off the chair. “Well, that was rather fun. But I do have some paperwork to fill out regarding the shop. Upstairs always feels the need to know how it’s running,” He gave Crowley an empathetic smile that almost said ‘It did feel good, but you know it can’t last.’ At least, that’s how Crowley interprets it. It’s the same smile he’s been giving him all these years, after every little moment the two shared.
It wasn’t the type of smile Crowley wishes to see on Aziraphale. He rather liked the real ones, with Aziraphale’s round cheeks going pink, the ones with the little lines appearing next to his squinted eyes. Those made him feel warm. This smile always feels distant…more cold.
“Yes well…guess I should be goin’ then, wouldn’t want to distract you from your heavenly duties,” Crowley made his voice go all funny on the last words, almost snarling. Maybe he was trying to make Aziraphale laugh. If he had been, it didn’t work.
“Oh you’re more than welcome to stay! I do believe I have some wine left over from last time, if you want to get started before…well, I thought I could maybe join you after I’m finished,” Aziraphale looked bashful. Apologetic, almost. But he chippered up quickly, pointing a finger to the sky. “Heavenly duties!” He repeated the demon’s words with a hummed chuckle, before retreating away to his study.
He’s always been like this. Leaving before Crowley could accept, so once Aziraphale returned from work it’s like it was entirely Crowley’s decision rather he’d stay or not. Like Aziraphale hadn’t offered in the first place. But that was fine with Crowley. Because even if Aziraphale pretended it hadn’t happened, they both knew it had, and there was a silent agreement between them to not bring it up.
So Crowley did wait in that back room of the shop, where all the giggles and jokes and flirtatious annoyance had grown that lovely tension to start the evening off right once Aziraphale returned.
He didn’t, however, start drinking yet. Crowley rather liked to start sober when they drank together. That way it felt more like an activity they were starting together rather than one Aziraphale was just joining him on.
It was around two hours Aziraphale worked before returning. He walked into the back, giving a surprised smile seeing Crowley had indeed waited for him.
“Ah, you grabbed the good bottle, I see,” Aziraphale wiggled his fingers in the air like one would before diving into a slice of cake. He noticed the bottle had been unopened, and did not mention it.
“Dunno, seems a good night for it,” Crowley popped the cork out with ease, filling one glass he’d brought in for Aziraphale before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“Oh? And why is that?” Aziraphale sat on his preferred chair before taking the glass and sipping in a dignified manner.
Crowley wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “You just seemed in a good mood today s’all. Figured we could end the night right, proper wine to get your mind out of all that blasted paper.”
“Ah. Well, I suppose I was in rather high spirits earlier. I don’t know what it was about all those jokes, but at the moment they really tickled my funny bone,” Aziraphale took a sip and hummed delightedly.
“Right tickled you were. Could hardly catch your breath, and they weren’t even funny jokes, angel. Really, I’ve got to introduce you to some actual comedians cause it was just a sad display of your humor.”
Aziraphale looked into the glass, swirling his wine. He gave a shy smile without looking up at Crowley. “Maybe it was partly so funny because you just seemed so…agitated by it all.”
Crowley’s eyes widened a bit, surprised Aziraphale actually admitted to it. He couldn’t hold back a smile anymore, and he’d blame the wine for it if you asked. “Oh so I’m what got you all giggly earlier?”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but he too couldn’t keep a smile off his face if he tried. He’d also blame the wine. “Oh hush, you wily serpent. It was just funny seeing you so irritated at simple jokes.”
“Nah nah, we’re not moving past this. You think I’m funny!”
“I never said that. If you must know I was…laughing at your expense,” Aziraphale hid his mischievous smile behind the glass as he took a sip.
Crowley gaped in amused disbelief. “So you were making fun of me then? Right, okay, I see how it is-”
“Well it’s a little hard not to when you have such a silly reaction to it!” Aziraphale gestured his free hand towards Crowley as if to say he’s doing it right now.
“Silly reaction? Whaddya mean silly reaction, all my reactions are perfectly rational and mean-spirited and never, never silly,” he growled the word as if to prove his point, but he only succeeded in making Aziraphale giggle again. He turned his head to hide his smile.
Aziraphale took a quiet sip from his glass again, his eyes peering over the edge to look at Crowley. Once he put the glass back in his lap, he said, “I rather like when you’re silly, darling.”
Crowley blushed deep. Darling? He—Aziraphale rarely ever used the word darling. But every time he’s done it these 6000 years (which, again, hadn’t been too often) it sent something wicked through Crowley’s system.
Crowley changed the topic quickly. If he didn’t, he’d probably combust from having to think too hard about what all that meant, and if it meant anything at all.
So they talked for a while. About nonsense, mostly. Just jabber to fill the silence and let out all the thoughts they’d been thinking and waiting to share with the other. They’d both grown just a tad tipsy at this point, and Crowley was almost ready to grab another bottle.
Mainly because he wanted to steer back to their first topic again.
“Yknow I was just thinkin’…you said you, er—that you like when I’m silly, or whatever it was you said. And I…well, I rather like it when you laugh. Has that, er…angelic quality to it. But not in a bad way, I suppose.”
Aziraphale smiled. “Oh. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, it’s literally in your DNA, if we even have that. Do angels and demons have DNA? I suppose not, but I mean something’s gotta compose all that’s happening here, physically I mean,” Crowley rambled, now definitely tipsy. He took another swig. “But, yeah like, there’s literally that saying, ‘angelic laughter.’ It’s all up in you, you’re built to have a good laugh.”
“Yes, maybe so. But you have a nice laugh, Crowley! So it can’t all be angelic,” said Aziraphale.
“I do not have a nice laugh. You may have angelic laughter, but I’ve got a demonic cackle. Very different things,” Crowley could feel himself blush, but it was all thanks to the wine. Most definitely.
“I have heard you laugh on many occasions, and in none of them would I describe it as a demonic cackle. If anything you’re more of a giggler,” Aziraphale reached his glass out to Crowley, and through instinct he filled it for him.
“We are not doing this, I refuse to have this argument,” Crowley said before arguing, “Giggling is not something I am even capable of. Not in my DNA.”
“I thought you established we don’t have DNA?”
“Point stands, it’s not in my bones. Giggling is-is-it’s, well— it’s childish, for one, and children aren’t typically seen as demonic.”
“After helping raise Warlock I’d beg to differ, and he wasn’t even the Anti-Christ we thought he was-“
“STILL, angel, still! Point stands, not going back on it. Let’s change the subject, let’s talk about-about dolphins or some nonsense, I don’t really care-“
Aziraphale stood from his chair, and Crowley shut up. He sat next to Crowley on the sofa.
“What are you doing?” Crowley’s voice was low and suspicious. Aziraphale sat his glass on the table, even going so far as to take the bottle from Crowley’s hand to do the same. Crowley let him, of course, but not without raising an eyebrow. “I said, what are you doing?”
“I’m glad you’ve taken that leather coat off, or this would be a much harder ordeal than it needs to be,” Aziraphale said before cracking his knuckles dramatically, waving his hands about as if to loosen them. Crowley’s brows were furrowed and eyes wide.
“That explains absolutely nothing,” Crowley leaned back against the couch, as if to say ‘nope, this isn’t affecting me at all, I’m not the least bit nervous about whatever it is you’re planning right now. I am the image of relaxed.’ His leg was bouncing.
“Well, you claim that you don’t giggle. I want to counter that argument, and I know exactly how to do it,” Aziraphale gave Crowley a devious smile, one an angel shouldn’t be allowed to pull, before wiggling his fingers in the air towards Crowley. Crowley immediately backed his body away, only getting as far as the arm of the couch.
“No, no—you cannot—this is not the direction I’m letting this conversation go!” Crowley held his hands up defensively, curling his legs into himself like the snake he was.
“Come now, you can’t handle a little friendly competition?”
“Hell do you mean competition?! You tickle me, I lose, there’s no competition to be had!” Crowley practically shouted, his nerves taking over.
Crowley had always been on the more…sensitive side, one might say. It was something Aziraphale always found a little too amusing. “You’re a demon!” He’d say, “It’s just so silly how a demon could be as ticklish as you are!”
Crowley did not find it silly. In fact, he found it to be quite the pain in his ass. How was he supposed to look all scary and menacing and demonic when pinching his belly made him fall into laughter so unlike him?
“So you admit you would giggle if I tickled you?”
“When did I ever say that?” Crowley was trying to shove Aziraphale away with his feet now, kicking (maybe too softly) at his thighs like it would do a thing. Aziraphale held his ground like a solid rock.
“Well you said you’d lose! So obviously that means you would giggle if I were to, say…” Aziraphale quickly grabbed hold of one of Crowley’s pestering ankles, scribbling his nails into the socked sole.
“GAHK! NO-!” Crowley shouted, thinking maybe if he expelled his energy through loud sound he might not fall into those giggles Aziraphale apparently thought so much of.
But he didn’t hold strong for long. Luckily, though, his feet were a little too ticklish for mere giggles. Instead, he cackled like no one’s business, so maybe he would win this argument after all.
“Stop! Ahahangel stop! I’ll kick you!” Crowley barked out through roaring laughter. He actually was already kicking Aziraphale, but it was still at his thighs like before. He was just worried he’d eventually nail the angel right in the nose if he kept up with it.
“Well, you aren’t exactly giggling, but maybe it’s just because your feet are too ticklish,” Aziraphale inquired like a scientist running a study. Crowley wrapped his arms around his midsection through his laughter.
“Yehehes they ARE! Now quihihit!” Crowley couldn’t take tickling on his feet for too long, it really was too horrible to bear. Curse this wretched vessel and its terrifyingly sensitive nerve endings.
Without saying a word, Aziraphale darted his hands to the spot just above Crowley’s knees, giving them quick pinches and observing Crowley like a specimen.
“Ohoho nohoho! Angel plehehease!” Crowley felt his resolve slipping, falling into a more giggly realm than before. He gripped onto Aziraphale’s wrists like a lifeline, not shoving him away out of pure trust. Goodness, feelings were a curse.
“Aha! I believe I’ve found quite the giggly spot on you, Anthony!” Aziraphale teased. He only ever used that name when he was trying to get under Crowley’s skin, and damn it if it wasn’t working.
Crowley hated how quickly his face began to flame, a small blink-and-you-miss-it whine slipping from his lips. “You cahahan’t do this to mehehe!” He playfully swat at the hands tickling his knees, rolling over like it’d deter his situation at all. “I’m druhuhunk you bahastard!”
“Yes yes, drunk and oh so giggly,” Aziraphale reiterated, really driving it home how he’d won their little argument. “But it’s so divine hearing you like this, I really don’t want to stop.”
God, Satan, someone help him. Not because Crowley needs the saving, but because now he’s not sure he wants to be saved.
“Ehehevil! Wrehehetched angel!” Crowley giggled, before letting out a very undemonic squeak as fingers began pinching up and down his sides. Aziraphale was practically hovering over him now, and if Crowley’s face wasn’t warm before, it was searing hot now.
“Nohohoho!” Crowley swat at Aziraphale’s hands and arms, squirming from side to side and his midsection was attacked viciously by angelicly gentle fingers.
“Why not, Crowley?” Aziraphale pinched Crowley’s lower ribs, a killer spot on the demon he was very familiar with.
“Behehecause!” Crowley had no good retort in his giggly state, head swarming with endorphins.
“Because why?” Aziraphale was mean when he was in these moods.
“You bahahastard!” Crowley flopped to one side just to protect half of himself (and also to hide his face in the back of the couch), now letting Aziraphale play with his open side like a grand piano. It was miserably fun.
Crowley let Aziraphale play with his ribs for a solid two minutes, giggling his head off into the cushion, before finally having enough and grabbing Aziraphale’s wrists for real this time.
He panted, still hiding his face in the couch. “You…are without a doubt, the most evil angel to ever be created. Just…just deplorable.”
“Oh come on. You can’t say you didn’t have a little fun,” Aziraphale spoke softly, still tipsy and stroking Crowley’s arm like it was second nature.
“I absolutely can say that, actually. Wouldn’t—wouldn’t exactly qualify bein’ tortured as my favorite pastime,” Crowley curled in on himself, if only to hide his lingering smile.
“Always so dramatic,” said Aziraphal before giving Crowley a pat and raising himself off the sofa. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could certainly do with some more wine, and we’re just about empty. I’ll be back in a moment, dear.”
Aziraphale once again left the room, leaving Crowley to lie on his back and ponder. Thoughts of how silly that situation was, imagine one of the higher ups seeing him in that kind of state. It’d be to the pit for Crowley in an instant. Well, if he still worked for them that is.
Also, Aziraphale had been really pulling him around all day, hadn’t he? Laughing at his expense, tickling the daylights out of him when he’s utterly inebriated. Well, that just won’t do. Won’t do at all.
An angel doesn’t get to just play with a demon all he likes and expect no repercussions.
Crowley pondered some more on that. Just thoughts of revenge and a devilishly ticklish angel he can’t wait to get his hands on.
. . .
a/n : hope u liked it!! thankfully not as sad as my last one i couldn’t take more angst LMAO
Summary : Crowley’s dignity was positively shattered being tickled by Aziraphale two weeks ago. Well, only one way to fix that: getting revenge. [see part one here! this is a sequel]
a/n : i lobe them sm
Word Count : 3626
hope u enjoy! :)
. . .
There are two types of demons: Those that like to strike as soon as they see their target, and those that plan their evil-doings methodically, thinking out every angle so they can strike their prey when they least expect it.
It might shock some to find that Crowley tends to lean more towards the latter.
It had been two weeks since Aziraphale had pestered Crowley with those god-awful jokes, relishing in his demon’s irritation. Two weeks since Crowley had been tickled into the couch cushions so Aziraphale could win an argument.
So for two weeks, Crowley has been planning.
And planning for Crowley doesn’t mean he just thought real long and hard about how he’d make his move. No, planning requires research. Lots and lots of research.
Tickling isn’t something Crowley would call a regular occurance between the two of them. Yes, it happens, has happened, but if you were to ask for something defining that they do together, tickling would be quite low on his list, if it made it there at all.
So maybe, before he strikes, he’ll need something of a…refresher.
Aziraphale stood in the bookshop’s tiny kitchen, making himself a cup of tea. Crowley stood at the doorway, wondering if his angel knew he was there.
“I know you’re there, yknow?”
Ah. So he does.
Doesn’t matter. He knows Aziraphale will continue to read through his book on the counter, waiting for his water to heat in the kettle like Crowley wasn’t even there. He was too comfortable in Crowley’s presence…making him far easier to attack.
So Crowley sauntered behind Aziraphale, miracling up a feather from his wing. He heard a page being flipped.
“Whatcha readin’?” Crowley asked, before placing the feather under Aziraphale’s shirt without having to move a finger. Real magic truly was the best thing since sliced bread (trust him, he was there when it happened, sliced bread was quite the invention for the time).
“Oh it’s a lovely book, I’ve read it many times but somehow I keep coming back to it. Georgette Heyer’s ‘The Black Moth.’ Quite a page turner; it takes place in 1751, during the—AH-!” Aziraphale flinched, his right arm gluing itself to his side.
Crowley smirked behind Aziraphale, still looking over his shoulder at the book. His finger waggled near Aziraphale’s coat, a magic tether traveling from it to the feather. “What was that, angel?”
“Er, nothing I just—well I think there may be something in my shirt. I do hope it’s not a bug,” Aziraphale said, before snapping his fingers. A feather floated down onto the pages of his book. A black feather, to be precise.
Aziraphale clicked his tongue. “I see.”
“How peculiar,” Crowley grinned. “Wonder how that got in there?” He walked right out of the room to avoid further accusations, all of which would probably be correct.
Stage one: complete.
Now onto stage two. Snake time, baby.
Crowley very rarely switched to his snake form these days. Really no need, plus any time he did he was usually beaten within an inch of discorporation by a horrified human. So no, he doesn’t typically take his snake form anymore.
But occasionally, when he’s feeling rather…well, one might use the word clingy (Crowley detests such accusations), he’ll be a snake for a few hours just for the excuse to curl up on Aziraphale’s lap while he reads.
This usually embarrasses Crowley, not exactly one open to admitting his love of cuddles and pets and head scratches. Which is why he’s especially excited about snake time today, since he’s getting to embarrass Aziraphale this time and not the other way around.
He’d taken his form around 20 minutes ago, giving himself time to adjust to the change and alert Aziraphale of his body today. When he heard, Aziraphale went and made a cozy spot for himself on the couch, beginning to read his book. It was a silent code to Crowley that Aziraphale was ready for cuddles whenever he was.
It was no surprise when Crowley slithered his way onto the couch, his now curled body finding purchase on Aziraphale’s lap. The angel got to petting, resting his book along the serpent’s scaled back. He scritched softly at Crowley’s head, running his hand down the length of his now much longer body.
Crowley almost got lost in the comfy-ness of it all when he felt Aziraphale stray too close to his underside, a sensitive area on both of his bodies. Ohohoh, the plan, yes right, I’ll get on that now.
With the sneakiness only a serpent could possess, he slowly moved his tail around until he found the area buttons can’t close up on Aziraphale’s shirt, and slithered his way in. Bingo.
He only allowed himself about an inch’s worth of entry, can’t get too confident now. He waited a few moments, listening for Aziraphale to stir or speak up. He didn’t move, though, so that’s a good sign. Now he can strike.
Crowley fluttered his tail back and forth, like a rattlesnake in slow motion. Aziraphale huffed.
“Is that you down there?” He asked, voice a little wobbly like trying to hold something back. Got ‘em.
“Is what me?” Crowley said in his tired, I’m-far-too-comfortable-to-care voice.
“It is you!” Aziraphale let out a giggle through his words, moving Crowley around in his lap to stop the incessant tickling that was still taking place on his lower belly. “Aha-! Crowley, stop!”
“I really don’t know what you mean,” Crowley yawned. “And stop moving me, m’comfortable.”
“I will not!” Finally, Aziraphale found the end of Crowley’s tail, pulling it out of his shirt and readjusting Crowley in his lap. “Now you stop that or I will be putting you off to the side.”
Crowley huffed, his body adjusting under his head in a way that almost looked like his head was laying in his arms. “Whatever. Didn’t even do it anyways. Punishing me for something I didn’t do? Now that’s just cruel.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, going back to petting Crowley while fixing his gaze back on his book.
Well, he really didn’t wanna risk ending this. Might as well enjoy it and plan for the next stage in his great scheme.
Which, as it happened, took place the very next day, snake Crowley no more.
Aziraphale sat on his favorite chair, listening to a record he recently bought at Maggie’s shop. He was the picture of content.
Crowley was bouncing on his heels ready to ruffle the angel’s feathers.
“Mmyes, some good ole’ Stravinsky. Rather liked that guy, with the whole y’know, riot debacle,” Crowley made his way around Aziraphale’s chair, leaning against its back. “Great fun that was.”
“Yes, that was a rather difficult event. I was there, you know, but I truly was only there to see the show,” said Aziraphale.
Crowley hummed, having heard the story before. He looked at Aziraphale’s ear below him, giving a puzzled look.
“What’s that in your ear?”
Aziraphale furrowed. “My ear?”
“Yes yes, there’s something in your ear.”
Aziraphale’s hand shot up to feel around his ear, “Where?”
“No you—you’re missing it, it’s nothing but a piece of fuzz, I think. Here, let me-“ He shooed Aziraphale’s hand away, before using his pointer to gently prod and scrape along the shell of his ear.
Aziraphale’s shoulder shot up. “Aha, wait, wait—there’s really no neheheed-“ He batted at Crowley’s hand, but couldn’t dissuade him.
“No seriously, I can get it if you just give me a moment-“ he wiggled the finger, and this time Aziraphale shot out of his chair with a quick giggle before turning and giving Crowley a pointed look.
“You’re messing with me,” Aziraphale straightened his coat before giving his ear a quick scratch. There was a smile small on the corner of his lips.
“Now why would I do that?”
Aziraphale shot him a look, “I’m not sure, but I know that’s what you were doing.”
Crowley walked toward Aziraphale until they were eye to eye. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, before walking out.
Stage three: complete, but Aziraphale was definitely onto him now. Time to set the real plan in motion.
Like it started, Crowley’s plan took place in the back room, wine in each of their hands as they talked and bickered and laughed with each other.
After having made Aziraphale laugh at one of his favorite stories to tell, Crowley smiled and remembered. Admittedly he had gotten a bit tipsy and nearly forgot about the whole thing until he saw his angel folding over in laughter just moments ago. Made him remember what this was all for.
He glanced over at the desk, noting Aziraphale’s current book having a very familiar bookmark peeking out of its pages. He had actually noticed this days ago, but was waiting until now to bring it up. Clever demon, he thought.
“What’s that there in your book?” He gestured lazily at it, sitting up like it was of great intrigue to him.
“Oh that’s…” Aziraphale looked at the book, like it was the first time he’d noticed it there. “Well, it’s my bookmark, of course.”
“Mmyes obviously it’s your bookmark. I meant what is it, exactly? Cause I don't know if I recognize this one.”
Aziraphale looked a bit flustered. “Erm, well it’s…it’s a feather, actually. But it works just as nicely as a bookmark.”
Crowley hummed. “Aren’t your feathers white, angel?”
Aziraphale looked without words for a moment (oh how Crowley just loved flustering his angel), before straightening his back with newfound confidence. “Well I didn’t say it was my feather, did I?”
“No, you’re right, you didn’t,” Crowley said, resting his chin in his palm as he relaxed over the arm of the sofa. Sometimes he likes letting Aziraphale think he’s won before pulling the rug out from underneath him. “Is it mine?”
Aziraphale was definitely blushing now, but he stayed on guard. “Yes, it is. You…put that blasted thing in my shirt the other day when I wasn’t looking. When it fell into my book I…well, I didn’t have a bookmark before and then I did. It’s really as simple as that.” He smiled at Crowley all clever, taking a sip from his wine.
Crowley gave Aziraphale a puzzled look. “You think I put that in there?”
Aziraphale blinked. “Well obviously. You’ve been messing with me for days.”
Crowley smirked. “Have I now?”
Aziraphale glared at him. His eyes were a bit squinted, very suspicious. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not doing anything. You’re accusing me of something I have no recollection of. I’m just asking how you think I was messing with you,” said Crowley, thinking ‘that’s right, lure him in.’
Aziraphale hesitated, like treading over thin ice. “…you’ve been teasing me, and you know it. You—you’re doing it now!”
Crowley couldn’t hold back his grin anymore. “I mean, can you blame me?” said Crowley before standing abruptly. He took a swig from the bottle, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and sat it hard against the table. “You messed with a demon angel. You never mess with a demon.”
Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He set himself back further into his chair, hands holding onto the arms.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ohh, don't act all innocent now. You were quite the tease a couple weeks ago, as I remember,” Crowley pointed a finger at Aziraphale, who actually started…grinning.
“You’re still worked up over that, aren’t you?” Aziraphale asked, a clever smile taking him.
“No—no, that’s not what I mean-“
“Oh I’m sure. But you can’t really deny that apparently, you’ve been thinking about this quite a lot,” Aziraphale looked as smug as ever.
Crowley was admittedly a little stuck for words at the moment. His mouth formed around rebuttals but they never made it past his throat.
He growled before rushing over and grabbing Aziraphale by the lapels.

“Maybe so—but only because I needed to plan out exactly how I was going to get you back,” Crowley growled, grip tight on Aziraphale’s coat. He liked how nervous the angel suddenly looked. “Like I said, angel. You don’t tease a demon.”
Crowley let go of him, walking back and almost pacing in thought. He waggled a finger in the air, “But I can’t do it now. No, no you’re expecting it now. I’ve gotta get you when you’re totally off your guard,” He plopped himself back down on the couch, pointedly not looking at Aziraphale.
“So…you’re not tickling me now?” Aziraphale raised a brow his way, taking a slow sip.
“No, I’m not.”
Aziraphale shrugged, placing his glass on the table. “I’d let you.”
Crowley paused. He looked at Aziraphale like the angel had grown an extra arm. “You’d let me?”
“Well, yes. I don’t actually hate being tickled. You just keep doing it when I’m in the middle of something, or I’m trying to relax,” he said, which was the last thing Crowley was expecting. “If you just asked I’d be happy to oblige.”
Crowley was near seething. He wasn’t actually mad, just utterly irritated by how nonchalant Aziraphale could be about the whole thing. Crowley was beyond embarrassed when Aziraphale tickled him the other week. How could someone not be embarrassed by it?
Crowley shook his head, “It’s the principle of the thing. You tickled me when I wasn’t ready, I’ve got to do the same back,” Crowley took a much needed swig. “S’how revenge works, angel.”
“Be my guest then. I’m happy to wait,” Aziraphale grinned, so pleased with how quickly things had turned in his favor. Sure, he was still going to get tickled eventually. But now he knows the real context.
Crowley was still so flustered over his little tickle attack the other week, that he had been meticulously planning on how to get Aziraphale back just to regain his dignity. He couldn’t deny how adorable that much effort and thought was.
Crowley grumbled, throwing his head against the back of the couch. “Grrrrbut it’s not as fun now,” he slumped. “Now you know it’s gonna happen. Shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Yes, maybe you shouldn’t have,” Aziraphale said. “Because now, once you do tickle me, I’ll have no choice but to tickle you back immediately after.”
Crowley gaped at him, actually letting out a low chuckle. “Oh really? Well that’s not fair, is it? Supposed to be tit-for-tat, don’t you think?”
“No, no I don’t think so. See, it doesn’t affect me nearly as much as it does you. That’s the fun in it.”
“It does not affect me. S’just not right for a demon to have such a weakness. Makes sense when you’re an angel, s’why you don’t give a shit.”
“I’ll have you know it’s perfectly normal for a demon to be ticklish. I tease you for it because it’s fun, but it’s not like you can help it. It’s your vessel, dear. And it’s a vessel I think you should take much more pride in than you’re giving it right now.”
Crowley just grumbled again, not really having a good response. He knows he can’t help it, but it’s still so…weird. It’s not just because he’s a ticklish demon. It’s that he’s a ticklish demon who actually finds it a little bit fun when his angel is the one tickling him. That’s the part that’s got him all screwy.
But it’s not like he could just say that.
So he stewed for a bit, thankful for Aziraphale allowing him his stew time in peace. The angel sat contentedly, sipping on his wine and basking in the lovely tension their bookshop always seemed to hold.
Crowley stewed and stewed. Pinching his lips together, sipping on the wine, reaching over and filling Aziraphale’s glass when he realized it had gone empty. But he had to say something eventually, because obviously Aziraphale wasn’t going to speak first.
And also because he kind of still wanted this to happen. Just a little.
“Fine.”
Aziraphale looked up. “Fine?”
“Yes, fine, whatever, just get over here and let me get my fffffucking revenge already.”
Aziraphale grinned, already beginning to stand. “I thought you said I couldn’t expect it when you get your revenge?”
“Oh that’s still gonna happen,” He smiled as Aziraphale sat next to him, the demon already crawling into his space.
“You do remember I’m getting you back as soon as you’re done, right?” Aziraphale said with a nervous titter in his voice, backing up towards the arm of the couch.
“Yeah I know. Guess that just means I’ve gotta make this count,” Crowley said as he fully closed in on Aziraphale, cornering him into the couch. He just hovered, for a moment, his hands floating over Aziraphale without touching him.
Aziraphale swallowed. “Well…?”
Crowley grinned. “Well, what?” He wiggled his fingers, and Aziraphale tittered anxiously.
“Are you going to…?”
“Can’t say it now?” Crowley’s eyes were devilish as he smirked. “Is someone getting nervous now that I’ve got him cornered?”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, a meek attempt at confidence over the situation. His slight squirming and tight lipped smile gave him away. “No.”
“No?” Crowley asked, before jerking his hand down near Aziraphale’s side, laughing at Aziraphale’s flinch. “I haven’t even touched you!”
“But you’re going to!” Aziraphale practically whined, a ghost of a giggle lacing his voice. “Just get on with it, I’m not sure I can take this.”
Crowley smiled genuinely. “Oh alright. But just because it’s you.”
Finally, after waiting oh so patiently for this moment the past two weeks, Crowley struck. He went straight for Aziraphale’s sides, thankfully unguarded since the angel had taken his vest off hours ago. Aziraphale yipped, trying to hold in his laughs for a brief moment before falling into those angelic cackles Crowley could eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“AH! Ahaha—Crohowley!” he laughed, sliding down unconsciously and only stretching his body out more for Crowley. “Wahahait!”
“Oh no, I’ve done plenty of waiting recently,” Crowley said, delivering sporadic pokes up and down Aziraphale’s torso, the angel’s cackles shooting up as he did so. “See, s’not so fun when it’s you getting tickled, huh?”
“It’s fuhuhun! Just—“ he was cut off by his own loud laughter as Crowley shot his hands into his armpits. Arms slammed against his sides, twisting and turning every which way because it was just too much. “—tihihickles!”
Crowley chuckled, ecstatic. “Bet it does,” he said, pulling one hand out from its trapped state in Aziraphale’s underarm to reach up and give his ear gentle scratches. Aziraphale squeaked, a hand shooting up to protect the ear. Seeing the opportunity, Crowley shot his hand right back under his arm, and Aziraphale shook his head through his laughter and shock.
“Nohot fahahair!” Aziraphale blushed, unsure of what to do with his hands. He opted to batting them around uselessly.
“You’re playing with a demon, angel, what did you expect?” Crowley said, before taking both hands out to squeeze, pinch, poke, prod and scribble all over Aziraphale’s tummy.
Aziraphale’s laughter was all over the place now. It was like he couldn’t decide whether to give deep, belly laughs or squeals and giggles fit for his angelic persona. The tips of Crowley’s ears grew warm at the sound.
“This is hysterical, by the way,” Crowley laughed, pinching Aziraphale’s hips and watching as he barked a laugh, twisting and gripping onto Crowley’s wrists. “I mean I knew you were ticklish, but this is priceless.”
“You’ve made your point!” Aziraphale giggled out helplessly. “I gehehet it! It’s bahahad! It’s sohoho baahahad—!” He fell into a giggle fit that made it impossible to hold a conversation, wheezing pitifully.
“I could keep going, yknow. Show you actual demonic torture,” Crowley grinned when Aziraphale shook his head, cheeks plump and pink from mirth. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll consider it.”
Aziraphale slapped Crowley’s arm playfully. Crowley poked softly but quickly over Aziraphale’s torso, easing up on the tickling just enough for him to get some words out. Aziraphale panted a bit, giggles lacing every breath.
“Okay okhahay! I’m sohohorry!” Aziraphale giggle, pushing Crowley’s hands away from him. Crowley let his hands be moved for just a moment, before giving one last quick squeeze to Aziraphale’s hips just to make him yip.
Crowley smiled down at his angel, watching him catch his breath and try to will away that blush from his cheeks. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with a pointed expression, “Wily serpent.”
Crowley laughed, “You asked me to!”
“I did not ask you to. You obviously wanted to do it so I…obliged,” Aziraphale shrugged, the lie plain as day on his face. Crowley couldn’t help but snicker.
“Yes, of course. Obliging the temptation of a demon really is your forte, after all,” Crowley teased, laying his front down on Aziraphale’s, making himself comfy. “Had your fun?”
Aziraphale sighed through a smile, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Crowley’s back. “Well…not quite.”
Crowley’s face puzzled before feeling Aziraphale’s grip tighten around his torso. His snake eyes grew twice their size, “C’mon angel, play fair.”
“This is fair. I told you what I’d do if you tickled me,” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead, not giving him a moment to think about that shit before digging his fingers into the backs of Crowley’s ribs.
“FuhuAHK-!” Crowley jolted, falling into helpless laughter on top of his angel. He squirmed and giggled and held onto Aziraphale’s body even tighter just so he could resist throwing himself off.
“‘Demonic cackle’ my behind,” Aziraphale teased. “You’re far too sweet for that, my dear.”
Crowley blushed, hiding that and his smile in Aziraphale’s neck, not missing the way the angel giggled whenever his nose brushed the skin.
The plan ended up being much more than successful. It was everything Crowley could’ve ever hoped for.
. . .
a/n : hope u enjoyed! consider reblogging if u liked it <3
this is a different anon but on the subject of lee!aziraphale... I'm a sucker for the sappiest shit, like just a whole fic of crowley fawning over his angel and telling him how cute he is while tickling him would be adorable if you're open to it
hey anon sorry for leaving this in the inbox for so long, took me a min to feel like writing again! but i hope u enjoy nonetheless :) ty sm for submitting this it was such a cute prompt!!!
. . .
It was entirely unfair how adorable Aziraphale could be. The angel radiated joy and love, pure traits left over from his days under Heaven’s reign. Yet even under his true angelic ways, Earth had given him these humanly qualities that left Crowley filled with a fluttery energy that made him want to kick something til it breaks under his foot (in the most loving way possible).
Crowley decided today was going to be a binge-watchathon of only his favorite angel in the entire world. He walked into the bookshop with his eyes already set, subtly following Aziraphale wherever he went just to get his fill of cute moments for the day. He wasn’t stalking him, Aziraphale knew he was there and was quite happy about it actually, so if anything it was more like the demon followed the angel around on his day like a puppy dog to its owner.
“I thought I’d pop by the coffee shop today,” Aziraphale said as he dusted one of many bookshelves, Crowley watching him with a slight smile from the couch. “Nina put out some chelsea buns I’ve been absolutely itching to try.”
“Sounds like a plan, angel,” Crowley hummed, happy to follow Aziraphale wherever he went.
At the coffee shop, Crowley thought he might’ve melted into the floor. He knows it’s possible for demons to do that sometimes, and nearly checked in his shoes for the gooey remains of what used to be his feet. Aziraphale was going to kill him one day being this cute.
“Oh they’re even better than I imagined!” Aziraphale giggled in glee, clapping his hands when he put down his fork. He gave a little wiggle when dabbing his face with the napkin, and Crowley bit his cheeks hard suppressing his smile.
“They look pretty plain to me,” Crowley took a sip from his espresso.
“See, but that’s the beauty in it. It’s plain and simple in its make, and yet still the tastebuds delight in the flavor. Humans are so good at that sort of thing,” Aziraphale said, humming in delight as he took another bite.
“Suppose they are. Making boring things just a little less boring,” Crowley leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, happy to watch Aziraphale finish his snack.
Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head when he bit into a piece of warm apple. “Just the best at it.”
Crowley watched and listened as Aziraphale lit Nina up in praises, gushing over something Crowley found so simple and honestly boring. He caught himself nearly laughing at one point, only stopping because he didn’t want to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings. It wasn’t like he was going to laugh at him, the angel just made him too happy to contain himself sometimes.
When Aziraphale wasn’t paying attention, Crowley asked for a box of chelsea buns to go. Just, yknow. For later.
Back at the shop, Aziraphale kept himself busy with a book for a while. Crowley was happy to watch him read, lazing about on the couch next to him.
Aziraphale would gasp, and giggle, shake his head and scoff; he reacted to everything he read so sincerely and Crowley could just eat him alive.
Eventually Crowley couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be as close to his angel as possible. He stretched casually, trying to be subtle as he changed positions, maneuvering himself under Aziraphale’s arms holding the book to lay down in his lap. Aziraphale merely gave him a fond smile, propping the book on Crowley’s shoulder and giving his scalp a relaxing scratch.
Crowley let his face practically smush into Aziraphale’s tummy, breathing in the smell of vanilla and old paper. He wrapped his arms around the angel's torso, smiling at the chuckle that received. It made his arms jiggle with the force of it.
He continued to listen as Aziraphale responded to his book, each gasp and scoff making him want to tighten his hold. He could tell things were not going well in that book, and it was downright precious how obviously upset it made the angel.
“Oh come now, that’s just…” Aziraphale grumbled with an aggressive page flip. Crowley couldn’t help but giggle at him.
Aziraphale raised his brow down at the demon in his lap, “What’s so funny?”
Crowley hummed, pinching Aziraphale’s side and smiling at the yelp, “You.”
If Aziraphale’s wings were out, his feathers would’ve ruffled, “How am I being funny? And don’t do that!”
“Don’t do what?” Crowley teased, using both hands to pinch at the backs of Aziraphale’s ribs.
He arched forward with a yip, grip tightening on his book, “Crowley I swear-“
“Oh I’ve got the angel swearing now, have I?” Crowley grinned, squeezing Aziraphale’s sides over and over again, elbows crashing down to stop him (they failed, miserably, so he happily continued his little tickle attack).
“Nohoho—I’ve lost my pahahage-!” Aziraphale giggled, hands darting down to push unsuccessfully at the ones tickling his sides and ribs. He squirmed against the back of the couch, feet rapping at the floor.
“Doesn’t sound like my problem, now does it?” Crowley said in a teasy tone, shoving his hands into Aziraphale’s armpits. He beamed at the squeak that got him, delighting in the giggles and pleas that followed. “You’re too cute for your own good, y’know that? You’re actually pissing me off with how cute you’ve been today,” Crowley growled, tickling out all the cuteness aggression he’s built up today on his adorable angel.
Aziraphale’s pale cheeks turned pink, head shaking side to side as if to argue. That’s only because he couldn’t exactly argue verbally with how giggly he’s become with Crowley’s hands under his arms.
“Are you saying no to me?” Crowley sat on Aziraphale’s lap properly now, face to face with the angel he intended on turning to putty in his hands. “What, you don’t think you’ve been cute today?”
Aziraphale pushed weakly against Crowley’s chest, as best he could with his elbows glued to his sides, “Crowley!” he tried through his giggle fit.
“Not an answer, angel,” Crowley grinned, moving his hands down to pinch at Aziraphale’s thighs. The angel barked out a belly laugh before toppling onto his side, his giggles overtaking him. Crowley just followed him down, sitting comfortably below his waist. He wished he could tickle at Aziraphale’s belly (oh how it made the precious bastard giggle like crazy there), but his many layers of clothing were still on at this hour, so Crowley would just have to make do.
He tickled and tickled, teasing his lover about his adorable laugh and precious blush all the way, feasting on Aziraphale’s pleas. He was still a demon, after all, so begging of any sort made the butterflies in his chest dance wonderfully.
“Okay okahahay! Crohohowley—I can’t breheheathe-!” Aziraphale pleaded through giggles as Crowley tickled his hips, grasping onto the demon’s wrists like a lifeline.
“You don’t actually breathe, we both know that,” Crowley rolled his eyes, letting up anyways to let Aziraphale have a moment to cope he supposed.
Aziraphale was glowing with fluster, throwing his hands up to cover his warm face. “That was quite rude,” he said, words muffled behind the palms
Crowley just chuckled, pulling Aziraphale’s hands away to smile at his pout. “Sorry, angel, but I think I might’ve died if I didn’t squeeze you soon as I did,” Crowley punctuated the word with another pinch to Aziraphale’s sides, cooing at the angel’s whine.
“But why must you tickle? I do love a tight hug, you know,” Aziraphale huffed, pushing onto his elbows as if to sit back up, but was quickly pushed back down as Crowley shoved his shoulders to the cushion. Aziraphale giggled nervously, “Crowley plehease-“
“Because tickling-“ he fluttered his fingers against Aziraphale’s ears and neck, eliciting giggles and squeaks he could die for, “means I get to hear you laugh. And nothing—nothing—could be any cuter than that,” he gave an eskimo kiss as he tickled, and nipped gently at the tip of Aziraphale’s nose with his teeth.
Aziraphale scrunched his nose, “Nohoho-! You dehehevil!”
“How’s this then,” Crowley stopped tickling for just a moment, but moved his hands to set still claws on Aziraphale’s ribs to keep him squirming. “I bought a few extra chelsea buns at the coffee shop earlier to take home. You let me tickle you, and I’ll tell you where I hid them.”
Aziraphale whined through a nervous giggle, smacking softly at Crowley’s shoulder. “Using baked goods against me shouldn’t be allowed.”
“Is that a yes then?” Crowley’s fingers twitched, itching to get going again.
Aziraphale only giggled harder, before giving a small nod. Crowley got back to work quickly, gently vibrating his claws into Aziraphale’s ribs and relishing in the angelic laughter that followed.
He basked in Crowley’s gentle tickling and flustering compliments for who knows how much longer. When Crowley gets in these moods, there’s really no use in stopping him because he absolutely refuses to. But honestly? Aziraphale knew his feux complaints only stirred the demon on more, so if he continued to whine and groan about the gentle affection, it was just his little way of giving permission and soaking up every ounce of it.
Plus, really, who could say no to a box of chelsea buns?
. . .
a/n : idk wtf a chelsea bun is i googled “english baked goods” and used the first thing i saw
Summary : Aziraphale has been laughing at Crowley all day. Maybe it’s the demon’s turn to laugh for a change?
A/N : this fic takes place after s1 but before s2! so obvs no spoilers for s2 here 😁 i also have not gotten my laptop fixed unfortunately so if there’s any errors it’s prbly cause i wrote this on my phone which i’m Not used to LOL
Word Count : 3304
hope u enjoy!! :)
. . .
When Aziraphale gets in these moods, Crowley can’t help but smile. Well, internally smile. He sorta prides himself on the air of mystery that surrounds his emotions. So he bites his tongue as Aziraphale giggles at him, laughing at how utterly annoyed Crowley looks by his antics.
Aziraphale had found an old joke book in the shop. Well, not really old, when in the hands of beings that have existed since the literal dawn of time. Actually, it couldn’t have been published more than 30 years ago. But it was old in the sense that Aziraphale hadn’t touched it since it had been brought in all those years ago.
Aziraphale told a vague story to Crowley about how it had landed in his possession (this was, of course, after telling him a truly horrible knock-knock joke that Crowley demanded an explanation for why he was being tortured so unjustly). But that story doesn’t matter anymore. What does matter is how giggly Aziraphale has become since realizing how irritating this all was to Crowley.
“Blehck, HORRIBLE, just fffffucking—You’re the angel, I’m the one supposed to be torturing you right now,” said Crowley, exaggerating his hatred of dad jokes just a bit (not by much, these jokes truly were horrible) just to see Aziraphale do that thing when he giggles, covering his mouth and clutching that wretched joke book.
“That was a really bad one, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale said once he collected himself.
“Yes, yes, it was, now will you please stop before I groan myself to death?”
“Always with the dramatics, you are,” said Aziraphale, before grinning, “Just one more?”
Crowley grimaced. “Grk…for the road, I suppose.”
Aziraphale beamed. “Yes, for the road!” He stuck his nose right back into the book, and it wouldn’t be such an unfamiliar sight if he hadn’t been looking up at Crowley every other second just to watch the demon stir.
When Crowley heard a gasp from Aziraphale, he knew he’d found his grand finale. Maybe he’d saved the best for last? (And in the angel’s opinion, he had. Just not in Crowley’s favor.)
“Alright. Are you ready?”
“Get on with it.”
“Yes, but are you ready ready?”
Crowley stuck an eyebrow up. Aziraphale just kept smiling. ‘He really is in the best mood today, isn’t he?’ Crowley thought.
“Crowley, do tell me…when is a door not a door?” His cheeks were plump with the force of his giddy smile.
Crowley blinked. His arms were crossed, laying back lazily against the bookshop’s old cushion chair. He tapped his finger against his arm impatiently.
Of course, this just made Aziraphale smile bigger.
“Come on! You have to play along, it’s part of the fun!”
“For you, angel, part of the fun for you.”
“Maybe you’ll start having fun too if you work with me here.”
“You’re working me, that’s what’s happening right now.”
“Just ask and this will all be over with,” Aziraphale raised his brows for a moment like he does when he gets all smug and silly. Crowley had to bite his tongue not to smile at that.
“Ffffffine,” Crowley sighed hard in feigned exasperation. “Well, I just don’t know, angel! When would a door not be a door? Seems like a paradox to me!”
Aziraphale bit his lip. “When it’s ajar!”
Crowley could only stare blankly at the tittering angel before him. It was a bit hard to conceal his own giggles as Aziraphale burst into laughter seeing Crowley’s unamused expression. But he held steadfast, refusing even the slightest chortle. Crowley hadn’t seen Aziraphale laugh like this in what felt like a millennia.
“You’re a silly one, Aziraphale. A real splinter in my ass.”
Crowley hadn’t seen a more angelic sight in so long. He felt his own face grow warm watching as Aziraphale tried collecting himself, but found he’d been caught back in his deadly case of the giggles. It was just precious.
“You think you’re a real comedian, don’t you?” Crowley said while trying to cover his own smile slyly, elbow now propped on the arm of the chair as he pushed his face into his hand. He tried looking as annoyed as possible.
Soon, Aziraphale caught his breath, a stray giggle leaving every few moments despite himself. They were now staring at each other, both too lost in the moment to think too hard on the implications of it.
But, as it usually goes in moments like this, Aziraphale put the brakes on first. He sat the book on the side table next to him before pushing himself off the chair. “Well, that was rather fun. But I do have some paperwork to fill out regarding the shop. Upstairs always feels the need to know how it’s running,” He gave Crowley an empathetic smile that almost said ‘It did feel good, but you know it can’t last.’ At least, that’s how Crowley interprets it. It’s the same smile he’s been giving him all these years, after every little moment the two shared.
It wasn’t the type of smile Crowley wishes to see on Aziraphale. He rather liked the real ones, with Aziraphale’s round cheeks going pink, the ones with the little lines appearing next to his squinted eyes. Those made him feel warm. This smile always feels distant…more cold.
“Yes well…guess I should be goin’ then, wouldn’t want to distract you from your heavenly duties,” Crowley made his voice go all funny on the last words, almost snarling. Maybe he was trying to make Aziraphale laugh. If he had been, it didn’t work.
“Oh you’re more than welcome to stay! I do believe I have some wine left over from last time, if you want to get started before…well, I thought I could maybe join you after I’m finished,” Aziraphale looked bashful. Apologetic, almost. But he chippered up quickly, pointing a finger to the sky. “Heavenly duties!” He repeated the demon’s words with a hummed chuckle, before retreating away to his study.
He’s always been like this. Leaving before Crowley could accept, so once Aziraphale returned from work it’s like it was entirely Crowley’s decision rather he’d stay or not. Like Aziraphale hadn’t offered in the first place. But that was fine with Crowley. Because even if Aziraphale pretended it hadn’t happened, they both knew it had, and there was a silent agreement between them to not bring it up.
So Crowley did wait in that back room of the shop, where all the giggles and jokes and flirtatious annoyance had grown that lovely tension to start the evening off right once Aziraphale returned.
He didn’t, however, start drinking yet. Crowley rather liked to start sober when they drank together. That way it felt more like an activity they were starting together rather than one Aziraphale was just joining him on.
It was around two hours Aziraphale worked before returning. He walked into the back, giving a surprised smile seeing Crowley had indeed waited for him.
“Ah, you grabbed the good bottle, I see,” Aziraphale wiggled his fingers in the air like one would before diving into a slice of cake. He noticed the bottle had been unopened, and did not mention it.
“Dunno, seems a good night for it,” Crowley popped the cork out with ease, filling one glass he’d brought in for Aziraphale before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“Oh? And why is that?” Aziraphale sat on his preferred chair before taking the glass and sipping in a dignified manner.
Crowley wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “You just seemed in a good mood today s’all. Figured we could end the night right, proper wine to get your mind out of all that blasted paper.”
“Ah. Well, I suppose I was in rather high spirits earlier. I don’t know what it was about all those jokes, but at the moment they really tickled my funny bone,” Aziraphale took a sip and hummed delightedly.
“Right tickled you were. Could hardly catch your breath, and they weren’t even funny jokes, angel. Really, I’ve got to introduce you to some actual comedians cause it was just a sad display of your humor.”
Aziraphale looked into the glass, swirling his wine. He gave a shy smile without looking up at Crowley. “Maybe it was partly so funny because you just seemed so…agitated by it all.”
Crowley’s eyes widened a bit, surprised Aziraphale actually admitted to it. He couldn’t hold back a smile anymore, and he’d blame the wine for it if you asked. “Oh so I’m what got you all giggly earlier?”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but he too couldn’t keep a smile off his face if he tried. He’d also blame the wine. “Oh hush, you wily serpent. It was just funny seeing you so irritated at simple jokes.”
“Nah nah, we’re not moving past this. You think I’m funny!”
“I never said that. If you must know I was…laughing at your expense,” Aziraphale hid his mischievous smile behind the glass as he took a sip.
Crowley gaped in amused disbelief. “So you were making fun of me then? Right, okay, I see how it is-”
“Well it’s a little hard not to when you have such a silly reaction to it!” Aziraphale gestured his free hand towards Crowley as if to say he’s doing it right now.
“Silly reaction? Whaddya mean silly reaction, all my reactions are perfectly rational and mean-spirited and never, never silly,” he growled the word as if to prove his point, but he only succeeded in making Aziraphale giggle again. He turned his head to hide his smile.
Aziraphale took a quiet sip from his glass again, his eyes peering over the edge to look at Crowley. Once he put the glass back in his lap, he said, “I rather like when you’re silly, darling.”
Crowley blushed deep. Darling? He—Aziraphale rarely ever used the word darling. But every time he’s done it these 6000 years (which, again, hadn’t been too often) it sent something wicked through Crowley’s system.
Crowley changed the topic quickly. If he didn’t, he’d probably combust from having to think too hard about what all that meant, and if it meant anything at all.
So they talked for a while. About nonsense, mostly. Just jabber to fill the silence and let out all the thoughts they’d been thinking and waiting to share with the other. They’d both grown just a tad tipsy at this point, and Crowley was almost ready to grab another bottle.
Mainly because he wanted to steer back to their first topic again.
“Yknow I was just thinkin’…you said you, er—that you like when I’m silly, or whatever it was you said. And I…well, I rather like it when you laugh. Has that, er…angelic quality to it. But not in a bad way, I suppose.”
Aziraphale smiled. “Oh. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, it’s literally in your DNA, if we even have that. Do angels and demons have DNA? I suppose not, but I mean something’s gotta compose all that’s happening here, physically I mean,” Crowley rambled, now definitely tipsy. He took another swig. “But, yeah like, there’s literally that saying, ‘angelic laughter.’ It’s all up in you, you’re built to have a good laugh.”
“Yes, maybe so. But you have a nice laugh, Crowley! So it can’t all be angelic,” said Aziraphale.
“I do not have a nice laugh. You may have angelic laughter, but I’ve got a demonic cackle. Very different things,” Crowley could feel himself blush, but it was all thanks to the wine. Most definitely.
“I have heard you laugh on many occasions, and in none of them would I describe it as a demonic cackle. If anything you’re more of a giggler,” Aziraphale reached his glass out to Crowley, and through instinct he filled it for him.
“We are not doing this, I refuse to have this argument,” Crowley said before arguing, “Giggling is not something I am even capable of. Not in my DNA.”
“I thought you established we don’t have DNA?”
“Point stands, it’s not in my bones. Giggling is-is-it’s, well— it’s childish, for one, and children aren’t typically seen as demonic.”
“After helping raise Warlock I’d beg to differ, and he wasn’t even the Anti-Christ we thought he was-“
“STILL, angel, still! Point stands, not going back on it. Let’s change the subject, let’s talk about-about dolphins or some nonsense, I don’t really care-“
Aziraphale stood from his chair, and Crowley shut up. He sat next to Crowley on the sofa.
“What are you doing?” Crowley’s voice was low and suspicious. Aziraphale sat his glass on the table, even going so far as to take the bottle from Crowley’s hand to do the same. Crowley let him, of course, but not without raising an eyebrow. “I said, what are you doing?”
“I’m glad you’ve taken that leather coat off, or this would be a much harder ordeal than it needs to be,” Aziraphale said before cracking his knuckles dramatically, waving his hands about as if to loosen them. Crowley’s brows were furrowed and eyes wide.
“That explains absolutely nothing,” Crowley leaned back against the couch, as if to say ‘nope, this isn’t affecting me at all, I’m not the least bit nervous about whatever it is you’re planning right now. I am the image of relaxed.’ His leg was bouncing.
“Well, you claim that you don’t giggle. I want to counter that argument, and I know exactly how to do it,” Aziraphale gave Crowley a devious smile, one an angel shouldn’t be allowed to pull, before wiggling his fingers in the air towards Crowley. Crowley immediately backed his body away, only getting as far as the arm of the couch.
“No, no—you cannot—this is not the direction I’m letting this conversation go!” Crowley held his hands up defensively, curling his legs into himself like the snake he was.
“Come now, you can’t handle a little friendly competition?”
“Hell do you mean competition?! You tickle me, I lose, there’s no competition to be had!” Crowley practically shouted, his nerves taking over.
Crowley had always been on the more…sensitive side, one might say. It was something Aziraphale always found a little too amusing. “You’re a demon!” He’d say, “It’s just so silly how a demon could be as ticklish as you are!”
Crowley did not find it silly. In fact, he found it to be quite the pain in his ass. How was he supposed to look all scary and menacing and demonic when pinching his belly made him fall into laughter so unlike him?
“So you admit you would giggle if I tickled you?”
“When did I ever say that?” Crowley was trying to shove Aziraphale away with his feet now, kicking (maybe too softly) at his thighs like it would do a thing. Aziraphale held his ground like a solid rock.
“Well you said you’d lose! So obviously that means you would giggle if I were to, say…” Aziraphale quickly grabbed hold of one of Crowley’s pestering ankles, scribbling his nails into the socked sole.
“GAHK! NO-!” Crowley shouted, thinking maybe if he expelled his energy through loud sound he might not fall into those giggles Aziraphale apparently thought so much of.
But he didn’t hold strong for long. Luckily, though, his feet were a little too ticklish for mere giggles. Instead, he cackled like no one’s business, so maybe he would win this argument after all.
“Stop! Ahahangel stop! I’ll kick you!” Crowley barked out through roaring laughter. He actually was already kicking Aziraphale, but it was still at his thighs like before. He was just worried he’d eventually nail the angel right in the nose if he kept up with it.
“Well, you aren’t exactly giggling, but maybe it’s just because your feet are too ticklish,” Aziraphale inquired like a scientist running a study. Crowley wrapped his arms around his midsection through his laughter.
“Yehehes they ARE! Now quihihit!” Crowley couldn’t take tickling on his feet for too long, it really was too horrible to bear. Curse this wretched vessel and its terrifyingly sensitive nerve endings.
Without saying a word, Aziraphale darted his hands to the spot just above Crowley’s knees, giving them quick pinches and observing Crowley like a specimen.
“Ohoho nohoho! Angel plehehease!” Crowley felt his resolve slipping, falling into a more giggly realm than before. He gripped onto Aziraphale’s wrists like a lifeline, not shoving him away out of pure trust. Goodness, feelings were a curse.
“Aha! I believe I’ve found quite the giggly spot on you, Anthony!” Aziraphale teased. He only ever used that name when he was trying to get under Crowley’s skin, and damn it if it wasn’t working.
Crowley hated how quickly his face began to flame, a small blink-and-you-miss-it whine slipping from his lips. “You cahahan’t do this to mehehe!” He playfully swat at the hands tickling his knees, rolling over like it’d deter his situation at all. “I’m druhuhunk you bahastard!”
“Yes yes, drunk and oh so giggly,” Aziraphale reiterated, really driving it home how he’d won their little argument. “But it’s so divine hearing you like this, I really don’t want to stop.”
God, Satan, someone help him. Not because Crowley needs the saving, but because now he’s not sure he wants to be saved.
“Ehehevil! Wrehehetched angel!” Crowley giggled, before letting out a very undemonic squeak as fingers began pinching up and down his sides. Aziraphale was practically hovering over him now, and if Crowley’s face wasn’t warm before, it was searing hot now.
“Nohohoho!” Crowley swat at Aziraphale’s hands and arms, squirming from side to side and his midsection was attacked viciously by angelicly gentle fingers.
“Why not, Crowley?” Aziraphale pinched Crowley’s lower ribs, a killer spot on the demon he was very familiar with.
“Behehecause!” Crowley had no good retort in his giggly state, head swarming with endorphins.
“Because why?” Aziraphale was mean when he was in these moods.
“You bahahastard!” Crowley flopped to one side just to protect half of himself (and also to hide his face in the back of the couch), now letting Aziraphale play with his open side like a grand piano. It was miserably fun.
Crowley let Aziraphale play with his ribs for a solid two minutes, giggling his head off into the cushion, before finally having enough and grabbing Aziraphale’s wrists for real this time.
He panted, still hiding his face in the couch. “You…are without a doubt, the most evil angel to ever be created. Just…just deplorable.”
“Oh come on. You can’t say you didn’t have a little fun,” Aziraphale spoke softly, still tipsy and stroking Crowley’s arm like it was second nature.
“I absolutely can say that, actually. Wouldn’t—wouldn’t exactly qualify bein’ tortured as my favorite pastime,” Crowley curled in on himself, if only to hide his lingering smile.
“Always so dramatic,” said Aziraphal before giving Crowley a pat and raising himself off the sofa. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could certainly do with some more wine, and we’re just about empty. I’ll be back in a moment, dear.”
Aziraphale once again left the room, leaving Crowley to lie on his back and ponder. Thoughts of how silly that situation was, imagine one of the higher ups seeing him in that kind of state. It’d be to the pit for Crowley in an instant. Well, if he still worked for them that is.
Also, Aziraphale had been really pulling him around all day, hadn’t he? Laughing at his expense, tickling the daylights out of him when he’s utterly inebriated. Well, that just won’t do. Won’t do at all.
An angel doesn’t get to just play with a demon all he likes and expect no repercussions.
Crowley pondered some more on that. Just thoughts of revenge and a devilishly ticklish angel he can’t wait to get his hands on.
. . .
a/n : hope u liked it!! thankfully not as sad as my last one i couldn’t take more angst LMAO
A/N: A demon and an angel are in love and while that could be embarrassing for the demon, he would definitely not let it stop him from making plans for their future (in secret of course, though keeping it secret from tickling angels could be pretty hard.) Just floofy fluff floof and a pinch of feely schmeelies, pardon me.
It hadn’t been long that they’d been together. Officially together.
And Crowley just couldn’t stop blushing.
Every time Aziraphale did something even remotely romantic, he froze, his eyes widening in disbelief and his voice leaving him hanging as he turned speechless.
The worst part was that Aziraphale seemed to find this incredibly endearing. His lips tended to quirk into that very specific, charming, almost sympathetic smile and his eyes glazed over with a warm playfulness, a soft infatuation with Crowley’s reaction.
Crowley could swear that, had Aziraphale installed any fire alarms in the bookshop, they’d be going off all the time from the hot, embarrassed steam the demon produced at any instance Aziraphale gave him that specific look, often accompanied by a gentle chuckle.
From what Crowley could tell, his behaviour did nothing but inspire Aziraphale to turn increasingly more affectionate. His blushing never seemed to come to a halt anymore as the angel came up with all sorts of gentle gestures and fond phrases to make his insides melt.
He’d feel his lips quiver when two perfectly manicured hands smoothed out the fabric of his shirt, making his chest feel warm in the touched places and his cheeks even warmer. “You look absolutely gorgeous today, my love.” The angel would say as he’d lean in to place a kiss on Crowley’s 100 degree face. Turning boneless, Crowley would make an awkward little step to the side, snarling and hissing – even though Aziraphale argued that he was in fact purring – before pushing himself past his lover to act like nothing was the matter.
Crowley had reacted the same way when Aziraphale had kissed the back of his hand for the first time, or whenever he took off his glasses to look fondly into his snake eyes before kissing him on the lips, or when Aziraphale had had the audacity to put an arm around his middle while he had been busy skimming through the pages of a book, complaining about the general concept of dusty imprinted, tree-skeletons. He’d almost jumped out of his own vessel then, dropping the book in question – that Aziraphale had then caught effortlessly – and zipping it almost instantly.
“You were saying?” Aziraphale had asked smugly, putting his chin on Crowley’s shoulder and beaming up at his deeply flushed face.
Yes, his angel had figured him out quite well. And Crowley was loving it deeply. To not be but a riddle to which Aziraphale knew all the answers was one of the most comforting experiences of Crowley’s existence. Nevertheless, the effortlessness of his angel’s reactions to him never seized to surprise him, to leave him breathless, weak in the knees, all wibbly-wobbly inside. And that could at times be a little frustrating for him.
Currently, Crowley was busy turning a map around in his hands, seated on one of Aziraphale’s larger sofas. With furrowed brows, he was trying to figure out where exactly he’d have to go to reach the coast, something the two of them had been talking about a lot in recent times. His angel had been busy preparing tea and was minutely returning, a silver tray with clinking cups in his hands, his reassuring angel-voice humming sweetly. Crowley’s neck was tingling comfortably at the noise.
“Oooh, a maaap!” Aziraphale exclaimed excitedly as he settled down next to the demon on his couch, placing the tray upon the table in front of them
“Don’t call it a maaap!” Crowley groaned, sending him a reprimanding glance over the brim of his dark glasses.
“I didn’t,” Aziraphale answered with a small lift of his eyebrow, making Crowley’s heart jump a little.
“Yes, you did!” He insisted, before lifting the map in a way that made Aziraphale’s face disappear from view. Aziraphale’s presence made him so tense that he lifted his shoulders to his ears without even noticing it.
Aziraphale was chuckling softly, taking a sip of his tea, before sticking his nose over the top of the map, glancing down at what Crowley was looking at.
“What are you doing?”
Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel and sniffed in an unbothered way, as if nothing of interest was currently happening. “Looking. At a map.”
“Yes, but whatever for?” Aziraphale’s eyes were smiling now and Crowley’s shoulders shot up a little higher.
“Nothing you must know about right now.”
Aziraphale, that terribly sweet angel, pushed his head past the crook in Crowley’s arm, his face ending up rather close to the demon’s and rather past the map in question. “Are you planning something?”
Crowley blinked at him, mouth agape, a tender blush creeping over the bridge of his nose. “Y-you will find out s-soon enough!” Quickly, he tried to look away from the angel, gulping. But Aziraphale had other plans. Chuckling gently, he pushed the map down and leaned in even closer to Crowley than before.
“I like it when you make secret plans. I wonder for how long you’ll be able to keep them from me, though.”
Crowley blushed a deep red when Aziraphale went to push him down into the cushions, his warm hand on his collarbone, his familiar, beloved vessel weighing him deeper down into the sofa. He felt his lips quiver as the angel’s nose touched his own, one of Aziraphale’s hands moving away from their propped up position next to his ears to remove his glasses. Bright blue eyes were gently looking into his own.
“Are you trying to bribe me, angel?” He asked, covering up his shyness by raising his eyebrows at the other playfully, an excited turmoil raging in his stomach. Aziraphale had him trapped on the sofa now, his left arm on the demon’s chest, his right one extended to place the glasses on the table next to him.
“You know, I have methods to get you to speak…” A mischievous glance sprang to the angel’s eyes as he started to wiggle the fingers of his now free right hand around.
“Now, wait a minute!” Crowley gasped, sobering up a little, seeing what he had done with his mindlessly uttered remark. “You cannot do this, I- I am the demon! Y-you are an angel, you’re supposed t-to spare people, for whoever’s sake!”
For Crowley’s taste, the angel was enjoying his insignificant attempts at wiggling out from underneath his stylishly dressed ‘boyfriend’ far too much. Blue eyes were sparkling with joy as demonic hands came up to protect a rather defenceless upper body.
“Do you hear me, angel?? People. Angels. Sparing!” Crowley repeated a little more hysterical when Aziraphale’s hand started to get closer to his body. It was embarrassing really how his voice went up the second Aziraphale’s threatening hand moved slightly faster towards him.
The angel was having a great time, evidently, laughing at Crowley’s demise. It didn’t really help with Crowley’s general embarrassment and fidgeting and melting and not-actually-trying-to-get-away. Apparently, he was too soft to spoil Aziraphale’s fun. (And maybe he also did enjoy it a little, when Aziraphale teased him like this.)
Sympathetically the angel tilted his head to the side, before saying: “Oh, Crowley, you’re not people.”
After that, Crowley was nothing at all anymore really – nothing but a bubbling, squeaking, laughing pile of demonic goo on a dusty bookshop sofa, as Aziraphale’s hand travelled straight to the ticklish spots on his left side, squeezing the sensitive area repeatedly and deepening Crowley’s blush immediately. “NO! Angel, wait!! WAIT!!”
“Wait for what, my dear?” Aziraphale asked as if nothing was the matter, his lips curled up in the most self-congratulating smile, while his fingertips were expertly seeking out the bits and pieces of Crowley that made him arch his back and toss his head around. Red curls were getting dishevelled on the red sofa cushions. Bright, pointy teeth glinted in the sombre bookshop lighting, yellow eyes filled with mirth, disappearing from sight whenever Crowley had to squeeze them shut against the ticklish sensations.
“PLEASE STOP!!” He squealed, his laughter bright enough to open the gates of Heaven, impossibly sweet for a snarling, moody demon. “PLEASE, ANGEL!!”
“But you haven’t told me anything, yet!”
Crowley doubled over with laughter, when Aziraphale’s fingers started scribbling at his stomach. He couldn’t kick himself out from underneath the angel and his flailing and pushing hands had the same effect on him as Beelzebub’s flies if they were to plop against him.
“Oh, the demon’s weak spot,” Aziraphale teased, chuckling when Crowley gasped for air dramatically, as if it were necessary. “Are you trying to make me pity you?”
Crowley started shaking his head violently when Aziraphale’s fingers began wiggling into his ribs, his lungs burning from all the laughter. “JUST STOP! STOP AND I’LL TELL YOU!!”
Aziraphale wasn’t cruel – not that cruel, at least – and granted Crowley his wish. Smug and pleased with himself, he put both his elbows up on Crowley’s chest and smirked down at his flushed face. A demonic chest that was currently moving up and down rather fast, indulging unnecessarily in the drama of the moment – a poor, unjustly tickled demon, trying to regain his breathing after a vicious, vicious attack from a very ruthless angel…
“You’re being really dramatic right now,” Aziraphale commented, chuckling when Crowley stopped the act and started pouting instead, yellow snake eyes glaring at his face. The dishevelled demonic mess seemed to have a rather softening effect on the angel, who moved one hand up to push a strand of hair out of his forehead. “It suits you very well.”
“Shut up!” Crowley exclaimed, a small smile clinging to his features as he tried to sound convincingly exasperated. One gentle caress to his hair sufficed and Crowley was purring- err snarling again. “You are a very devilish angel.”
“How dare you!” Aziraphale huffed with a grin, his hand wandering to Crowley’s side again to tweak it one last time in retaliation, relishing in the way the demon squawked.
Crowley couldn’t help but laugh afterwards, amused by his own noise, joined quickly by Aziraphale. “Stop it, seriously!”
“Of course,” Aziraphale put his hand back on Crowley’s chest and made an expectant face, “but you better start talking real fast.”
“Secret plans are in fact very secretive, you know.” Crowley answered, his hands gently moving up the angel’s back, who made a rather pleased little noise.
“Does this mean you do not plan to tell me about them?”
Crowley smiled and pulled Aziraphale closer towards him. “For now.”
The demon pulled the angel in for a tender kiss, reversing their positions progressively until he was the one on top, his hands cradling the angel’s chuckling face.
“What?” He slurred, drunk on angel.
“You tend to do this.” Aziraphale answered, his fingers caressing the skin under Crowley’s chin.
“What?” The demon asked again, snarling against Aziraphale’s ear now.
“Be … ‘more straightforward’. After I’ve tickled you.”
“Reaaally? Is that soooo?”
“… Yes?”
“Hmmmm, surprising, I wonder what opportunities my newly gained position might offer me…”
“… Ehm.”
“Whatever might inspire a demon like me to get ‘more straightforward’ after an angel like you goes so far as to tickle me??”
“Now, Crowley, let’s not do anything we might regret here…”
Now it was Crowley’s turn to chuckle. “Oh, we are far past that point by now, angel.”
And maybe the muffled giggling noises that could be heard from inside the bookshop were the sounds of an angel who hadn’t seen a hellish revenge coming his way. But who was happy to endure it nonetheless. Because secret plans were being made for him. Which meant that his love was going to last.
Might I interest you in a little bit of platonic Aziracrow x reader tickles?~
Exam season was finally and officially over. You’d been running on energy drinks and adrenaline for these past few weeks and as Friday rolled around, with the last of your academic activities completed, you could feel the stress roll off your shoulders like a boulder. It had been a trial by fire to say the least and you were glad it was over. Unfortunately, as you finished tidying your room and putting away all of your books, you were faced with a new problem: you had no idea what to do with yourself now. You’d been so immersed in your studies, spent countless sleepless nights reading and revising, taking notes and learning. So. Much. Learning. Every minute was accounted for, every hour consumed by anxiety or the sharp need to focus. Now it was gone. Just like that. Over in the blink of an eye. You felt empty and uncomfortably still as you sat down on the bed, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you rubbed your face. It felt wrong to not have something to pour your energy into or drive you forward. With the sudden lack of pressure, everything felt... off. Most would probably take this abrupt stop in academic work and use it as an opportunity to rest, maybe finally get a full 10 hours of sleep, but you were far from restless. This, of course, had to do with the fact that you’d become accustomed to running on only two hours of sleep at most, and those usually took place during the day.
You glanced at the clock - 12 am. Usually the hour you’d have started your night-time study sessions by. You only sighed, deciding on the only logical thing to do - find Aziraphale and Crowley and hope they’d have some idea how to keep you occupied— or perhaps even miracle you to sleep, though you weren’t sure which would have ben better by that point.
To your surprise, you found them both awake downstairs in the lounge area of the bookshop. Though angels and demons didn’t need to sleep, nor did they particularly want to, but it was not uncommon for you to find them napping by a human schedule. Aziraphale sat on the sofa, a book in his hands, his round glasses resting on his nose as he lost himself in the pages. A (probably cold) cup of cocoa sat beside him on the table, along with a candle, emitting just enough light for him to read while keeping the dim, peaceful atmosphere of the bookshop at this hour. Meanwhile, Crowley lounged in the angel’s armchair, sprawled out, his long legs dangling over the armrest. He was the first to notice you, a small smirk gracing his face as he lifted an eyebrow inspecting you.
“What’s up?” he asked, emphasizing the p in a playful manner. This made Aziraphale look up too, offering you a warm smile.
“Nothin’. I can’t sleep” you muttered, fidgeting with the hem of your pajama pants.
“Haven’t you been complaining about your lack of sleep for what- a week now?”
“He’s quite right dear” Aziraphale said, setting his book aside and focusing his attention on you “you’ve just finished your exams and should be resting. Aren’t you tired?”
“I should be… but i’m not” you sighed, making your way over to the sofa and plopping down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest “I guess it’s the sudden shift from constant adrenaline to... this. A kind of uncomfortable silence in my head. I’m just not tired, it’s become my routine to stay up every night.”
Aziraphale pat your shoulder with a sympathetic smile, while Crowley tutted, shaking his head.
“Humans. So weak and so confusing”
“And hard-working” the angel added, taking your side in this little argument “would you like some hot cocoa, my dear? It might ease you a bit”
“Yes please” you chuckled, throwing Crowley a challenging look. He only smiled, his eyes never leaving you, eyeing every little movement. He was fond of you— though he’d never admit it— and he found your hard-working determination utterly adorable. Still, like Aziraphale, he was concerned for you.
“Here you are, my dear” the angel handed you a mug with your name engraved on it, a pair of wings etched on either side. You gratefully took it, savoring the warmth which spread through your body as you took a big sip.
“Now, why don’t we keep you occupied. What do you say to some Shakespere?”
And so the scene was set: a quiet, dark night, with Aziraphale reading aloud to you both. The atmosphere was warm, a soft, golden glow flickered from the candle as the angel’s voice wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. You leaned into him, feeling the gentle weight of his arm around your front, tracing mindless shapes against your shoulder. The smell of the cocoa, sweet and comforting, filled the air and the sound of the angel reading engulfed the entire bookshop. Crowley hadn’t moved from his previous position, lazy, sprawled out, but he listened along, his resting face causing you to smile a little. That was all it took for your attention to wander. No longer listening to Aziraphale’s drama of choice unfolding, you began fidgeting slightly, throwing curious glances toward the demon. His face reflected what looked like mild boredom.
“Oi. You’re not even listening” he whispered, loud enough for you to hear despite being across the room.
“I am” you protested, sitting up a little “I bet you’ve never even read this book”
Crowley tilted his head slightly, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips “I witnessed its creation, love,” he said matter-of-factly.
You grinned, tilting your head back too, meet his gaze “I’m just saying— I bet you don’t even what half of these words mean”
The demon huffed a quiet laugh, giving you a challenging look “I could snatch that book right up and read this entire passage for you in perfect English. You’re the one who probably hasn’t even heard of it. So you’d better listen. I’d say you’ve got quite the attention span issue going on”
“Pfft, you’ll take those words back once my grades come in” you smirked victoriously, leaning back against the angel who was not even paying attention to your debacle, continuing his reading.
“Listen” Crowley spoke, his smirk growing wider “and if you’re going to ruin the sanctity of literature, at least do it properly”
You stuck your tongue out at him playfully, earning an exaggerated eyeroll from the demon.
“Now now, let’s behave ourselves” Aziraphale finally intervened, his voice warm but firm, giving you a small smile.
“Sure. I’ll behave” you teased, glancing at Crowley “Can’t risk hurting the demon’s fragile ego”
“Ohhh, we’re playing this game, ar we?” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, a little shocked at your boldness. He stood from his seated position, approaching you.
“Restless and mouthy. Someone is clearly not paying attention” he remarked, delivering a ticklish poke to your side. You squeaked, squirming instinctively. Crowley grinned, clearly enjoying himself, his yellow eyes glinting with mischief.
“Crowley!” You laughed, swatting his hand away. You tried pulling Aziraphale’s arm tighter around yourself to serve as a shield, which amused both the demon and angel.
The latter chuckled, looking down at you fondly “i’m afraid you’ve rather brought this upon yourself, my dear” he teased, his hand resting across your front shifted slightly, his fingers gently kneading into your stomach - a light, affectionate tickle.
Your giggles burst out fully, squirming between the angel and demon, remarking through your laughter how unfair this was. Crowley’s smirk showed no shame as he watched, delivering the occasional prod to your ribs while Aziraphale’s tickling remained gentle and fond, an amused smile playing on his lips. Eventually, as the two— though Crowley reluctantly— halted the torment, the angel’s hand came back to rest across your shoulders, pulling you close once more. The demon on the other hand didn’t move back to the armchair. He sat himself down onto the sofa, his legs intertwined with yours, daring you to make another comment.
“Now then, shall we try this once more?” Aziraphale asked with a chuckle. He gave your shoulder an afffectionate squeeze and continued reading, picking up where he’d last left off.
It was warm. So, so warm. Not just from Aziraphale’s gentle hold on you, but from the pure love you felt being together with these two. Moments like this were precious, ones you cherished deeply. It was so easy to lose yourself in your thoughts as it was in the quiet comfort of their presence and they always managed to put a smile on your face, whether forcefully by Crowley— as displayed moments ago— or Aziraphale’s gentle affection. Both of which, you were eternally grateful for.
Summary: Illuga has been non-stop worrying about Flins’ curse, to the point where he’s gone beyond just prying. Luckily, Flins knows laughter is the perfect remedy for anxiety.
Warnings: Tickling
Other: Lee!Illuga &/x Ler!Flins from Genshin Impact. 1.7k words. (Idc if you read as platonic or romantic, I personally don’t mind either relation)
A/N: I really love Illuga & Flins’ dynamic so I had to write something for them! I haven’t written for genshin in so long, so I hope it’s okay!
—————
Flins took the path he always wandered on while waiting for signs of the wild hunt. Maybe, because it's a part of his subconscious routine, it’s how Illuga managed to track him down so easily with questions about his curse.
“Flins, you can’t avoid this forever! Does my concern not matter to you in the slightest?” Illuga frowned, following behind Flins as the fae continued to walk forward. Unfortunately, unable to ignore the man behind him.
“I’m not avoiding anything, Master Illuga, it is simply not important. Nothing someone such as yourself needs to waste any more time on.” Flins replied nonchalantly, but his demeanour only worked to frustrate Illuga more.
“Why aren’t you taking this seriously! Please, Sir Flins. Just tell me, maybe I can help you reverse it, you are a good man who doesn’t deserve to be cursed.”
Flins walked a bit faster, but Illuga matched his speed from behind. “I’m sorry Master Illuga, but there is nothing you can do, and I mean that.” He said with complete honesty, because it was true. This was simply something he had to live with, Illuga shouldn’t waste his energy on this.
Illuga continued to pry, even if he was nervous to do so the other day. “Then at least let me share your burden, you can trust me, I promise...”
His tone sounded almost like a plea, words that came straight from his heart. It made Flins worry a bit himself, “…has my curse really been worrying you this much?”
Illuga felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach, “..Yes, Sir Flins.” He admitted freely, hoping his truthfulness would show how much he genuinely cares.
Flins let out a long sigh, now unable to ignore the shorter man’s relentless concern. He paused in his tracks without warning, making Illuga who was following close behind him almost crash into his backside.
Illuga stumbled back a bit, eyebrows furrowed. Flins turned around to face him, maintaining his gentle expression. “Master Illuga, is there anything I could say to you that might alleviate your concerns? Anything?” He questioned, having run out of ways to say ‘I'm fine’ to the smaller.
“The full truth.” Illuga said immediately, his voice both hesitant and unwavering, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t drop this, not until I know for sure that you’re alright.” Flins’ eyes widened a bit at his stubborn, unshakeable attitude. He paused for a moment, before his lips shifted into a small smile.
He walked beside Illuga, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, I get it. I understand.” He nodded, accompanied by a gentle laugh. “You’re worried, and I get that, but I promise, you don’t need to be.”
He looked up at the taller man with a frown, “no, I don’t think you do get it Sir Flins—” Illuga tried to reply, only to be cut off by Flins.
“…So with that, please, Master Illuga, relax a bit, would you?” Flins spoke softly, his gaze just as gentle as he swiftly pulled Illuga’s back against his chest. Holding him tightly with one arm, while the other started poking around the smaller’s waist.
Illuga’s eyes widened, overcome with a mix of emotions that soon replaced the ones he had been bothering Flins with. He felt butterflies swarm in his stomach, heat rise to his cheeks, and laughter bubble up in his throat. “W-What are you?!” He gasped, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.
“I heard laughter is great for relieving anxiety, maybe it might work for you?” He snickered, his hand trying to find a sweet spot to make the worried light keeper absolutely collapse with laughter.
“S-Sir Flins! You can’t just— PFFAhahaha!” His sentence was cut short by a string of giggles when Flins found a particularly sensitive spot on his tummy. Illuga quickly covered it, not allowing those playful fingers any further access. “Yohohou can’t just tickle your way out of this?!” Illuga yelled at the absurdity of it, but Flins only giggled.
“Are you sure? I’d say, it’s looking like I can.” He argued back, dropping his hold on Illuga as both hands now went on the attack. He managed to worm his fingers under Illuga’s hands that were tightly protecting his weak spot, watching with fond eyes as a puff of air escaped from the young master's stubborn lips. Followed by panicked, bubbly laughter that could melt even the coldest of hearts.
“Ahahahaha! Nononohoho— Sihihir!” He curled around Flins’ hands, squeaking and kicking dirt with his heel when Flins dug a bit deeper into the spot. Flins’ heart warmed at the sound of his adorable, genuine laughter. Along with the endearing reactions Illuga couldn’t control, Flins couldn’t help himself from letting another amused giggle slip by.
“That’s it, just laugh your worries away..” He joked, one of his hands reaching up to dig under his jaw, gently wiggling his fingers under the spot.
Illuga squealed, a sound that instantly made him blush a bright pink. “KYAhahahaHA! Stahahap thahahat!” He complained, but his tone sounded so light-hearted and happy that it only worked to encourage Flins. Illuga’s shoulders scrunched up and trapped his hand, his knees starting to buckle.
“You dohohon’t really thihink this will wohohork, do yohohou?!” He argued, but knew deep down that there was no convincing Flins otherwise.
Flins scritched his nails gently around his belly button, circling around the spot. His loud laughter melting down into panicked giggles, swaying his hips from side to side in a weak attempt to escape. “I think it's already working, Master Illuga. You seem a lot less stressed already.” He disagreed softly, before scratching the side of his belly button.
“FLIHIHIHINS!” He gasped, shocked by how badly it tickled. That touch was all it took for Illuga’s legs to completely give out on him, sinking down onto the soft grass with Flins following after him, laying him flat on his back and resuming his tickling, this time starting to squeeze at his sides.
He burst out into another fit of laughter, arching his back before the squeezes became rapid, starting to squirm frantically from side to side, “Eeehehehee! I cahahan’t belieeheheve you!” Illuga cursed, even in this position.
“How cute.” Flins giggled, watching as Illuga was— dare he say? Starting to smile genuinely. “Y’know, I heard rumours that the respectable Master Illuga was ticklish, but I didn’t think it’d be this true.”
Illuga blushed, so Flins tickling him wasn’t just a game of chance— he was tickled by his friends and coworkers a lot, but he never realized this silly fact about him got spread around so much to the point that even Flins heard.
“Dohohon’t tehehell me thahahat…!”
“You’re right, I'm talking far too much, aren’t I? When I should just be tickling you more instead.” Flins joked, latching onto his hips and massaging the bone in a way that would make anyone feel ticklish.
“WAHAHAhahahait!” He screamed, falling flat on his back as his chin tipped up, head thrown back with laughter. His legs, still kicking adorably against the ground.
Flins tickled him to the point that his mind felt like mush, lost in his own laughter. The taller's touch would soften, but it all still felt so damn ticklish to Illuga, the smallest poke or scribble enough to make the man laugh.
Illuga wasn’t tired by any means and wasn’t necessarily begging for Flins to stop. So he was pretty confused when the tickling came to an end, Flins’ fingers retracting away.
As he laid on the grass, still letting out aftermath giggles— Illuga cursed it, but in all honesty, he thought to himself about how much fun that was. Being tickled like that, and just maybe… he did feel just the tiniest bit more relaxed.
He laid an arm over his forehead, opening his eyes and being met with a gentle expression from Flins. “Jeheheez..” He giggled, his chest rising and falling as he tried to wipe away the stupid grin being tickled had caused.
He had no idea that Flins was far from done with him. “While I'm giving you a break, I want you to think carefully.” Flins started, Illuga instinctively covering his tummy with his hands at the word ‘break’
“You have two choices. Either… I’ll stop tickling you when and if you promise to stop worrying. Or, when and if I decide that you’ve laughed and relaxed enough.”
“What do you mehehean if you decihihide?!” He questioned his wording in a lighthearted panic, giggling nervously. I mean, it’s not like Flins could tickle him forever, right?
Flins giggled, not surprised that Illuga was jumping to question him rather than fulfill that simple, easy promise. “You heard me.” He teased, raising his hands in the air menacingly, Illuga’s nervous laughter heightened at the mere threat of more tickling.
Yet, he found himself staying stubbornly silent when faced with these two options, well… silent if you ignore the endless stream of giggles Illuga let out at Flins’ fluttering fingers.
The fae laughed at how despite everything, his stubbornness stayed. “Hmm, alright then. You asked for this Master Illuga.” He narrowed his eyes playfully, his words laced with mischief.
Within seconds, Illuga’s laughter returned in full as Flins’ hands returned, shooting under his arms and lighting up with joy at the sight of how ticklish he was there. Despite Illuga now screaming with laughter, he hardly fought back against Flins, weakly holding his wrists instead.
Their silly interaction went on for a while longer, Illuga laughing his heart out and squirming endlessly back and forth on the grass. All while Flins stared down at him fondly, giggling alongside him as he found all the spots that made Illuga squeak.
In the end, Flins’ tickle attack didn’t end with either of the two options, instead, the pair were interrupted by two distress calls needing Ratnik immediately. They jumped into action quickly, going their separate ways.
Though, Flins would be blind not to notice how happy and relaxed Illuga looked while he waved goodbye. Still giggling a bit, yelling over a threat that “this wasn’t over.”
Flins was just surprised that even after all that tickling Illuga could still easily sprint to the battlefield. Well, even if things weren’t over and Illuga will be back interrogating him tomorrow, he’ll be glad to have at least made Illuga let loose and giggle, which totally counted for something.
Hope you enjoy! Sorry I can’t draw, so you’re stuck with a fic.
“Oh come on Al! Please?” The boxy headed demon pleaded. “Just once and I won’t ask ever again! Pleeeeeease?”
Vox had been at this for days at this point. Asking day and night to touch Alastor’s ears. The radio demon truly didn’t understand the fixation! First Rosie with her constant condescending pets, then Mimzy when they reunited, and now his new compatriot. He truly, truly, didn’t understand the desire. They were just ears! Appendages for hearing! Nothing more!
Yes, when he’d first arrived and realized he had them, he was a bit transfixed. But that was only because he had deer ears atop his head! That’s a strange thing for anyone to wake up to! But he’d gotten over it quickly. No one else seemed capable of such a thing it seemed though. Especially not this particularly persistent peculiarity.
“If I let you touch them, will you stop bothering me about this? Forever?” He drawled, narrowing his eyes at the other demon.
Vox brightened immediately, quite literally as his screen lit up. “Yes! Yes I won’t ever bother you about your ears again if you let me touch them! Pleeeeeeeaase! They look so fluffy!”
Alastor sighed, at least they were in his private quarters in Rosie’s home. Not some public space where sinners could watch the undoubtedly foolish display. “Fine. You may touch them for 5 seconds, and no more. I will be counting.
The tv man was practically bouncing out of his seat as he reached out and took Alastor’s ears into his hands. “Oh woooooow… they’re so fluffy!”
Alastor counted in his head, 1… 2… 3… But his count was interrupted by an old familiar sensation. Really he should’ve seen this coming. It happened every time when Rosie or Mimsy would mess about with his ears. He had forgotten how… sensitive the furry appendages were. Which was truthfully foolish on his part.
Vox’s clawed hands were being supremely gentle as they felt along his ears. Soft tracing that sent shivers down Alastor’s back. Soft rubbing that, had Alastor been less aware than he was, would have him leaning into the touch. It didn’t feel bad per-say, it never did, but Vox was on the precipice of a rather humiliating discover.
“So fluffy…” Vix murmured, utterly awe struck, lightly scratching the base of an ear, earning a soft barely restrained snicker. Something that Alastor quickly tried to cover with a cough.
The tingly squirmy feeling was hard to ignore, but Alastor was nothing if not stubborn to a fault. He wouldn’t break or crack or show an inkling of his sensitivity. Though he supposed it help he was always smiling, so at least he didn’t have to fight off that urge as well.
Vox didn’t stop, his hands massaging, scratching, even wiggling and flipping his ears around. It seemed he was utterly entranced by the fluffy appendages. And Alastor was too busy focusing on not letting it show how much this was affecting him to keep track of the time. It had certainly been longer than 5 seconds at this point.
Alastor held it together quite well for a time, till he felt a little spark against the rim of his ear and, against his will, he squeaked. The hands stopped, and they both froze for a moment.
“…Did you just-“ Vox began before Alastor cut him off with a glare.
“No! I did not.” He snarled, eyes turning to dials. “That’s enough of that now! You’ve had your fill yes? Good. I will never allow this again.”
Vox snickered, “Aw come on! It’s not a big deal! It was just a little squeak!”
“It was nothing you-“ but he was cut off by a subtle poke to his side, earning another squeak.
Vox’s grin was wide and villainous, almost shark like. “No. Fucking. Way.”
“Don’t you dare.” Alastor snarled back, but with how frazzled he already was, Vox was far more easily able to slip past his defenses.
The tv man zapped behind Alastor, poking both his sides at once. “I think someone’s ticklish~”
Alastor’s grin wobbled, and he shook his head, batting at Vox’s hands. “I can assure I am nothing of the sort!”
This was a very precarious situation, if Vox discovered this… little weakness, Alastor would never live it down. He’d never be taken seriously again by the stupid tv head! And knowing what a blabber mouth the man could be… it only spelled doom for him.
“Get your hands off me!” He snapped, grabbing Vox’s hands, but he forgot about the wires. And jolted when he felt one brush down the length of his spine, a rather odd mix of a yelp and a fawn bleat was torn from his lips. Shit.
Vox burst into laughter, hugging himself as he sputtered nonsense between giggles. “Wha-ptahahafaha! What was thahahat?!”
“Another word and I’ll tear out your insides with a red hot- MEH!” Another bleat as another wire glided down his side. “WOULD YOU STOP WITH THOSE??” His eyes turning to dials in a flustered rage.
“I don’t know… can you stop being so adorably ticklish~” Vox’s teasing tone made Alastor growl, and very poorly fight the blush rising to his cheeks.
“I swear Vox, if you breathe a word of this-“ he began, static filling the air till another poke from Vox made him yip and hug himself.
Vox, looking horribly smug, just laughed. “As if I’d tell anyone about how the big bad radio demon is just a little giggle fawn~ No no, this secrets aaaaaall for me! Now I wanna hear those giggles!”
The man dove in for another attack, pushing Alastor onto his back. His claws were quick to zip up and down his sides in a maddeningly light and terribly ticklish manner. “Tickle tickle tickle~ Coochie coochie coo~ Come on Alley-oops I wanna hear those giggles!”
Alastor fought to keep what little dignity he had left, but the teasing words and feather light touches were getting to him. “Pfft-no! Stop that rihihight now!”
Oh shit. He could just see Vox’s eyes light up and lock onto him when he heard that little giggle. “Oh? You want me to stop doing this? …Ok.” The tv host grinned, looking rather malicious even. “I’ll start doing this instead!”
Alastor honest to Satan squealed as Vox’s hand scribbled at his belly. Damnit! Of all the spots to pick?! “OFF! GEHEHEHET OFF!” He laughed, kicking out as an elks cry mixed with his frantic laughter. “VOHOHOHOX I SWEAR-“
“Vox isn’t here right now! You’ll have to leave a message!” He sang, clawing playfully at Alastor’s stomach. “You’re stuck with me!”
Alastor had the worst feeling he knew what was coming. “WHAHAHAT?”
“Why, you’re stuck with ME! The… TICKLE MONSTER! RAWR!” He playfully roared, a hand darting up to scratch into the terribly ticklish hollow. Yes, unfortunately the radio demon was actually VERY ticklish.
And said radio demon absolutely shrieked at the new targets attack. “NONONONOHOHOHO! NOT THEHEHERE!”
“Ooooooh! Not there huh? You do know what that means for the tickle monster right?” Vox teased with a shark like grin. “It means I’ve gotta keep tick-ticka-tickling right there!”
Oh lord take him now. This had to be the most humiliating experience of his entire life. He hadn’t been in this kind of situation in a very long time. Not even Rosie did this sort of thing to him! Maybe a poke here or there to ‘make him less of a grump’ but that was it! This was a full on assault on his nerves! Only one other person in his life ever had the nerve or the gall to attempt this!
Of course way back then he was much smaller, and not some vile overlord serial killer in hell. He was just a young boy playing silly games with his mother. She’d take on this very same ‘tickle monster’ role and chase him through their home. Sometime letting him think he got away before springing out from behind a corner or some furniture. It never failed to make him squeal with delight. Simpler times…
“VOX!” Alastor cried, hooves kicking in the air behind him as the media demon crawled his claws up and down his ribs.
“Remember Alley-oops! I’m not Vox right now!” He replied in a sing-song. “Besides, you’re fine! Surely the feared and respected Radio Demon can handle a few widdle tickly-wicklys? Right?”
Oh absolutely fuck him. “I AM GOHOHOHOING TO FUHUHUHUCKING KILL YOHOOHOU!”
Vox just laughed like an asshole, moving back down to his belly. But his touch was lighter, a softer brushing that was no less maddening. It felt Alastor in a terribly giggly and squeaky state.
“Mmph! Ehehe! Ohohoho god! I hahahahate you!” He squeaked out.
“I’m sure you do.” Vox chuckled, “But I bet you love this~ After all, you haven’t asked me to stop once, and I know how your ears look when you’re pissed. They’ve been totally relaxed this whole time.”
Alastor’s face went utterly red. There was… an inkling of truth to his words. A part of him had missed the playful act, the memories that came with it, and the ability to let go and simply laugh. But by God he wasn’t about to concede that point to Vox! “Fuhuhuhuck you!” He giggled out. Very eloquently.
He had the nerve to simply laugh at the radio demon, skittering back up under his arms with feather light touches that made Alastor snort. “Ya know you haven’t tried to stop me either! It’s not like I tied you down or anything, you’re literally just letting me do this!”
…That was right. Alastor’s hands had been free this whole time, and his powers hadn’t been lessened in the slightest. So with a surge of strength, he pushed Vox onto his back, where his tendrils wrapped around his wrists, pinning them down. “A fair point chum! But you see, I can’t simply let you walk away after such a… personal, display.”
Vox’s own grin was turning wobbly now as he tugged at his trapped wrists. “H-Hey, I was just playing around! N-No need to get angry!”
“Oh I’m not angry my dear!” He crooned, a hand sliding down the side of Vox’s boxy head. “But you know me… I just love a little payback. So tell me…” he smirked, claws wiggling over his trapped companion. “is the big bad media demon ticklish~”
~
Rosie chuckled as she heard the frantic shrieks of laughter from upstairs. She was glad her little Alastor had someone to play with. Maybe she’d go up and get in on the action later. She smirked into her tea cup, yes, let the boys have their fun. Then show them how a real tickle monster does it~
Hello again! It’s been a while since I last posted, but apparently these two refuse to let me stay retired.
After season two, I felt a small comic was absolutely necessary—they’re just way too funny to ignore.
I’ll be posting this in two parts, one right after the other, since I think the second works better as a standalone piece. This comic was inspired by @ticklishbeans4’s gift fanfic, Secret Santa for Luna!
Summary: Caine makes a plan for Pomni to get laughter out of Jax.
Pomni has been pranked one too many times by Jax and now she wanted revenge, but she knew he wasn't at all ticklish, so she decided to ask Caine for help. She walked over to Caine and told him her issue.
"So, Jax has pranked me one too many times, and since he's not ticklish, what can I do to give him a punishment?" Pomni asked. "And I don't think there's a way you can make him ticklish."
"Who says I can't make him ticklish?" Caine said, floating over to her. Pomni stared at him, confused.
"I did," Pomni said, before looking interested. "Was I wrong?"
"Hehehe," Caine giggled mischievously, rubbing his hands together.
The two went over to Jax, only to find him lounging and a very annoyed Ragatha, soaked, walking away to get dried off. Caine went over and used his unexplained powers and carried out phase one. Jax felt shivers through his body, it wasn't like anything he felt before.
"What just happened?" Jax asked a little nervous.
"Hello, Jaxy," Pomni said as she and Caine approached him. Caine used his powers to tie Jax's arms behind his back and his ankles together.
"Caine, untie me!" Jax demanded, but Caine and Pomni had other ideas. Pomni got closer and wiggled her fingers, positioning them at his sides.
"Any last words?" Pomni asked, smirking. Jax scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Pompom, you know I'm not ticklish, right?" Jax said. Pomni, knowing about Caine's power, started tickling him.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Pomni teased. Jax tried not to laugh, but small giggles emerged.
"D-damn ihihihihit!" Jax said as he giggled intensely.
"Hehe! Coochie coochie coo!" Pomni said as she moved to his stomach. All thoughts of holding it in flew out the window as Jax burst into laughter as Pomni tickled him.
"POHOHOHOHOMNI! STAHAHAHAHAP! THAT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!" Jax shifted around, trying to escape to no avail.
"I knew you would be this ticklish here," Pomni said, tickling everywhere on Jax's stomach. Caine decided to join in by tickling his sides.
"Tickle, tickle!" Caine said as he tickled.
"GUHUHUHUHUYS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!" Jax protested through his laughter.
"Not where? Your sides?" Caine said, tickling Jax's sides more.
"Or your stomach?" Pomni said, spidering her fingers all over Jax's stomach.
"B- BOHOHOHOHOHOHOTH! JUST PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES! THAT'S A REHEHEHEHEHEHEALLY BAHAHAHAHAD SPOHOHOHOHOHOT!" Jax pleaded through his laughter as Pomni and Caine tickled him.
"Did I forget to mention, I made you permanently ticklish," Caine said as he kept tickling him.
"OHOHOHOH COHOHOHOHOHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHON!" Jax said through his laughter. Pomni made her fingers walk across his stomach, making Jax laugh hysterically and helplessly, even Caine had never heard him laugh so hard.
"Wow, you're super ticklish here!" Pomni said, tickling more. Jax couldn't stand being tickled on his stomach.
"MAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT STAHAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE HAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY! I CAHAHAHAN'T TAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT!" Jax found it very difficult to get any words out without being dissolved by laughter as his ticklish stomach was shown no mercy.
"The only way to stop this is if you apologize for pranking me by putting sand in my bed," Pomni said, aggressively tickling Jax's stomach, making him overwhelmed with laughter.
"I'M SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORRY! JUST PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP! I'M TOHOHOHOHO TICKLISH FOHOHOHOHOR THIHIHIHIS!" Jax said and with that, Pomni gave a quick tickle to his stomach and the she and Caine stopped tickling him and untied him. He hugged his midsection as the lingering tickly feelings remained.
"You good, Jax?" Pomni asked, satisfied.
"Y- yeah," Jax said, not letting go of his midsection.
That night, Jax decided to get some much deserved rest after being tickled to bits.
(A little bit of a spoiler if you haven't watch episode eight of tadc)
Hi Starlight! Can you please do story of tadc where instead of Kinger trying to put Caine to sleep and accidentally delete him to stop him, they tickle Caine, if he is ticklish in your Au that is, and giving it more of a happy ending then the actual episode?
Thankies for the idea! Tbh, episode 8 was just... awful. I also listened to the song "Happy Place"
If you read this you'll see.
A Ticklish Ringmaster
Summary: Kinger suggests a more effective way to deal with Caine.
Kinger came into the lounge only to see his friends getting into a heated argument with Caine. They looked angry at him and he didn't seem to be scared by it. He looked angry, too.
"What kind of person puts someone in a place with their worst fears?" Ragatha snapped at Caine, annoyed.
"Well, you started it!" Caine snapped back. The other circus members were shocked. They prepared their own scolds.
"We started it?! You're one to talk!" Gangle angrily said.
"How (yowl)ing dare you!" Zooble said, clenching their fists.
"What are we going to do with you!" Jax said, trying to sound angry.
"I know what to do!" Kinger said as he came in. He started poking Caine's sides, causing him to descend to the ground, giggling.
"Oh, I see what you did there!" Jax said, poking Caine's stomach, making him jump.
"Hehey! What wahahas thahay for!" Caine said, giggling harder.
"That is for tickling me a while ago!" Jax said, recalling that Caine made him ticklish and tickled him to bits.
"Kitchy kitchy coo!" Pomni said, tickling Caine's ribs with a feather, which made him laugh.
"STAHAHAHAHAHAP THAT! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!" Caine said as he started laughing, making it obvious that the ringmaster was ticklish.
"What? Can't take a little tickling?" Gangle said, wrapping her ribbons around Caine's arms to keep him from escaping.
"PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES! STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT!" Caine said, laughing and kicking his legs.
"Caine, you never told us you were ticklish," Zooble said, having a devious look in their eyes.
"MAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT STAHAHAHAHAHAP! I'LL DO ANYTHIHIHIHIHIHING!" Caine said, continuing to laugh.
"Anything?" Jax said, even though he knew that Caine would sneak a few tickles to him after this.
"WHAHAHAHAHATEVER YOHOHOHOU WAHAHAHANT! JUST STAHAHAHAHAP!" Caine said, hoping for the torture to end. The circus members exchanged smirks.
"Apologize for putting us with our worst fears, then we'll stop," Zooble said, tickling harder.
"I'M SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORRY! IT WOHOHOHON'T HAPPEN AGAHAHAHAHAIN! JUST STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!" Caine said, and with that, everyone stopped tickling him and let him go. After he was released, he gave Jax a few tickles to his stomach.
"That tickles!" Jax said, backing away abd putting his arms around his midsection. Caine went over and poked Pomni's sides, making her giggle.
"Don't doho thahahahat! Hehe!" Pomni said giggling. Caine went over to Ragatha and started fluttering his fingers on her neck.
"Eeeee! Hey, I'm ticklish there!" Ragatha said as she squealed. Caine then ever so gently tickled where Gangle's stomach would be.
"Eep! Hehehe!" Gangle skittered away, wrapping her ribbon arms around her midsection.
"Just thought I'd get back at the ticklish ones, while the other two, get no payback from me," said Caine. "For making me laugh, you deserve a reward. You get to take as much time as you want off from adventures."
He teleported out of the room, leaving the six circus members to think about what to do during their time off. Kinger and Zooble exchanged smirks and approached the other four. Kinger then tickled both Jax and Pomni, while Zooble targeted Gangle and Ragatha. The rest of the day was a tickle attack planned by the only non-ticklish members.
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