Kanene's Notes: Aaaaa I need to write more tickle fics w Date Everything <3 they are so magnificent fr fr
Warnings: None! Ticklish Reader x Ler Daisuke. Around 1.000 words.
[~*~]
“Lay down,” he said, his voice calm and firm as ever, his lips warm and caring as he kissed the back of your neck. You shuddered, wincing as it pulled some tight muscles on your shoulders. This week really did a number on you.
“You don’t need to give me a massage, Daisuke. It’s fine.”
“I’ve already talked with Amir.” He answered absently, staring at your back with a furrowed brow, concentrated. Looking up, he found your eyes and let out a tiny smile, soft. “Turn around and lay down. I will take over from here.”
A huff of amusement left your lips, the seriousness of which each word was said, mingled with his obvious care, it was truly heartwarming. There was nothing else you could do, of course, then to comply to his request. Lifting your blouse just enough so he could worm his hands under it, Daisuke set himself to work.
His hands circled the length of your shoulders. One side, then other, travelling to the space of your neck, slowly crawling upwards to scratch at your nape and then going back down to trace the expanse of your shoulder blades. Not a single knot or inch of your muscles was forgotten.
Your breath hitched.
Except.
His touch was too much light.
You pressed your face a bit more firmly on the bed under you, feeling the light rumbles of Betty’s amused chuckles around your uncontrollable smile, fingers gripping the mattress as another ticklish sparkle teased the lovely spot under your shoulder blades, too close of your ribs.
How could you say to be surprised? Years and years of taking care of your ceramics, of course even Daisuke’s firmer touch would still be light enough to not even chip the most delicate of the plates.
Noticing your shudder of reaction, and mistaking it for pain, Daisuke softened even more his massage, only his fingertips pressing “firmly” on the edge of the back of your ribs, drawing circles across the muscles just like Amir told him to do.
“Relax.”
Somehow, this words only seemed to make your ticklishness grow stronger, fishing a squeak from your lips. He stopped.
“Does it hurt?”
Turning your face to the side, you tittered, reactions only getting louder when Daisuke pressed once more on the spot, digging just a bit in search of the horrible knot that was making you squirm around in pain, high pitched sounds of protests leaving your mouth over and over again.
“Ack! Nohohoho! Please!” More yelping, bubbling titters filled the room, each sound and each touch only teasing your senses further, making tiny, ticklish sparkles travel the entirety of your back, filling each one of your weak spots on it with buzzing, anticipatory tingles. “Tihihihickles! It tihihihickles-”
Ah. Daisuke thought, fond, melted, sweet, looking at your adorable face shining in a beautiful smile, hearing that melodious laughter and realizing that he wouldn’t mind at all to keep listening to it over and over again. I see.
“Please, I ask for you to stop giggling yourself silly, I am trying to help you to relax.” There was a hint of smile in his voice, and a playful glint on his eyes that made you only squeal louder, especially as his hands spread in claws and began gently vibrate on your higher ribs, taking their sweet time to crawl downwards to your sides.
Each touch of his was precise and, with the same single-minded focus he was previously searching for every tense knot or aching muscle of yours, now his curious, prodding and wiggling fingers were searching for every sweet spot, every weak, ticklish place that had you jolting under his hands, laughing adorably, squirming from one side to another, letting out the most mesmerizing, precious sounds, clinging to the mattress in a lovely way, not even trying to push his tickles away.
Daisuke pinched lightly at your sides, softening with how it sneaked crackles in your laughter, swiped his fingertips again and again across your lower back, scratching softly along it as you chuckled wheezes and kicked your legs. He prodded your spine, up and down and up and down, watching hypnotized as you snorted, squeaked and let out a string of half baked words, then spread his hands on your shoulder blades, taking turns in digging on every ticklish spot around it and drumming, amazed at how uncontrollable, how loud and mirthful your laughter could go.
He took his time, just like he did polishing every plate to the brightest, sharpening his every knife, cooking every dish and organizing every self with his most loved ceramics. With patience, attention and care he found every single one of your ticklish spots, he grazed lightly at them and then vibrated on each one unmercifully, he caressed then squeezed and brushed and poked and tickled, tickled, tickled, again and again until your arms finally came down and held (as best as you could) his playful fingers.
Even so, his chuckles, amused and endeared and everything else in between, still danced with your remanent, looping giggles, a grin fixed permanently on your face, a light, relaxed feeling taking over and melting the tension on your muscles, leaving a good, happy feeling behind.
“Hm, good. Now, truly, do not move, I will start your massage.”
It didn’t take long before unstoppable, ticklish laughter was once more ringing in the air.
