i mean if you’d Wanna write that caine x reader fic with a ler reader I’d Love to see it,,,,little whimsical mf with that huge ego needs to be put in his place imo /nf
STOP DRINKING COFFEE, WE GOTTA GO ON AN ADVENTURE
Caine x Reader
Summary: Caine seems keen on giving you a tour. You are not as enthusiastic.
Word Count: 2,268
[Thank you for indulging me!]
This is a tickle fic!
~🍓~
It had been a few months since you found yourself in this digital circus. While it was definitely a struggle at first to fully comprehend that there was no way out, you were never going to see your loved ones again, and not even the sweet release of death could save you, you had to admit you were doing a great job with getting used to things around here. Yep, most people would have gone crazy by now, but not you. You were as happy-go-lucky as you always were.
You did a fist pump just to show how great at coping you really were.
The fact that this place had some cute amenities like a café did make the transition a bit easier. The coffee tasted sort of like the real thing.
Caine jumped at you from behind the counter.
You fell off the barstool. “Holy sh—”
“Come ON!” Caine’s arms waved wildly in the air. “We gotta go on an adventure!!!”
“Right now?” You used the stool as a crutch to get up. “I haven’t finished my coffee.”
“No time!” Caine cut you off.
He grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, and in the blink of an eye, the two of you were floating miles above the circus grounds. If you squinted, you could barely make out the polygon grass below you.
Now, it was your turn to scream. You reached behind you, blindly sweeping until you managed to grab onto Caine’s arm. You didn’t want him to get any bright ideas about potentially letting you go.
“Caine! What is this?” While you wanted to gesticulate frantically to show him just how mad you were, your hands were also quite preoccupied at the moment.
“Why, it’s our adventure, of course!” Caine raised an index finger for emphasis. “As the newest member of our crew, it is my responsibility to give you a tour of our digital realm!” His voice echoed at those last two words.
“What? But I’ve been here for months!” You kicked your legs aimlessly. “I don’t need a tour! At least, not anymore!”
“Nonsense!” Caine shook his head, clearly not listening to anything you said. “I have gotten feedback from Pomni that my usual way of introducing our new members to their new home can be a bit…intense. So, allow me to—”
“No!” You shouted. The sheer height was starting to make you dizzy. “Put me down!” You weren’t sure if these cartoon bodies could survive a fall of this height, but you weren’t eager to contribute to the research.
You swung your leg back to get enough momentum to kick Caine in the stomach. You weren’t aiming particularly hard. You didn’t want him to drop you. You just wanted him to realize just how displeased you were with the current circumstances.
“Ack—! Don’t do that!”
“Then, put me down!”
“Absolutely not! We haven’t even started on our wonderful adventure!”
Now, Caine was just being stubborn. Fine, if he wasn’t going to be convinced, then you would have to force him to lower you back to the ground.
You mustered the inner confidence to let go of Caine’s arm and grab at the lapels of his jacket. “I wanna get down!”
Caine reeled back on instinct. He tried to pry you off of him, but you held on hard. “Get off me!”
“No!”
Your hold began to loosen. For a moment, you lost your footing, and you slipped down an inch. Your heart began to race as you scrambled up to readjust your grip. On instinct, you smushed your face into his shoulder. You didn’t want to see yourself plummet to your death. Your fingers clawed their way around his body just to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall during the kerfuffle.
You could feel Caine’s muscles(?) stiffen underneath you. His hand, which he had at some point placed on your mid-back, tightened as though he was trying to restrict you physically.
A pause.
“Don’t do that,” Caine said.
His tone had lost all of its showmanship quality, now replaced with what vaguely sounded like an oddly high-pitched whine at the back of his throat.
Was that jerk laughing at you? Was that it? Did he find you fearing for your life that hilarious?
With newfound vigor, you dug your nails into Caine’s jacket and clung on. Caine made a strangled sound. It wasn’t one of pain (not that you thought you could hurt him) or even of annoyance. It was sharp and small and sort of stilted.
You paused, taking the time to tilt your head back and glare at him.
Wall-eyed, Caine stared at you.
You shifted your fingers deeper into his side.
“GHK—!” Now, that sound was unmistakable.
Caine jerked mid-air, sending both of you bobbing a few feet to the left. You yelped and latched onto him tighter, but that only seemed to make things worse as he veered to the right.
“St-Stop that!” Caine exclaimed. A hint of desperation clung to the back of his voice, hardly obfuscated by his stutter.
You frowned. You could use this somehow. Probably. Maybe.
“Not until you put me down,” you said.
When he didn’t budge, you scribbled your fingers against his side. The movement was awkward, mechanical, at first, because you were still clinging to him for dear life. It didn’t seem to matter much, though. The effect was immediate. His shoulders shot up, and his jaw clacked down as a flurry of laughter tore through him.
“Ahaha—Nohohoho! Stahahap that!” Caine grabbed at your shoulders, but that didn’t really do anything to make you stop. “This is—” He interrupted himself with an odd-sounding snort. “Entihihirely unprofessional!”
“You’re the one who kidnapped me.” Your fingers continued to climb higher until they made their way to his ribs.
“I did nohoho such thing—!” Caine gasped when you started flexing your fingers experimentally against what felt like bone. “AHAHAHAHA!” The sudden cackle made you flinch. His arms shook, seemingly caught between wanting to hold onto you and wanting to tear your hands off of him. “FINE! FIHIHINE!” His yelps sounded more like croaks at this point. You stopped for a moment to hear him out. “Perhahaps this tour can be conducted at a slightly lower altitude…”
The world lurched. You yelped as the circus grounds rushed closer beneath you, like an elevator dropping too fast. Caine seemed eager to hurl himself to the ground. Perhaps, he was worried that you would start up again.
“Be careful!” You shouted, but you were already on the ground before you could finish the last syllable.
Caine hovered next to you, brushing the imaginary dirt off your shoulder.
“There,” he announced with barely contained smugness. It seemed that he had already shaken off what had happened. “See? Perfectly safe. No harm done. Another successful act of benevolent leadership from your ever-reliable ringmaster.”
You stared at him.
Several words had come out of his mouth that you strongly disagreed with. You should let him have a piece of your mind about how you really felt about his so-called benevolent leadership after messing with your coffee and flinging you in the air.
Unfortunately, you weren’t particularly the talking type.
So, you tackled him to the ground.
Caine squawked as he landed awkwardly on his stomach. You sat down on his back, positioning your legs to pin him to the ground. “What are you doing?” His words came out clipped and harsh. He seemed to be too taken aback to remember he could teleport away.
“You seriously call that successful?”
“Well, yes, I suppose I wou—AHAHAHAHA!”
You pounced on his ribs, once more, since that seemed to be the spot that gave him a bit of trouble while he was busy swinging you around mid-air. Caine writhed underneath you. He clawed at the grass, but the flat texture barely provided any friction for him to grab onto. You could feel his legs kick out from underneath you. Considering how compact Caine’s body was, you ended up bouncing with each kick, but you held on fast and kept tickling him.
“You could have asked before doing any of that!” You lightly raked your fingertips up each crevice of his ribs. You did not leave any one untouched as you carefully counted up each side. You lingered just long enough at each spot to make him jerk and sputter before moving on to the next. “Now, my drink is probably lukewarm.”
Caine lifted his head weakly. He turned to the side in an attempt to make eye contact with you. Perhaps puppy-dog eyes were a potential strategy of his. Either way, you didn’t get to find out because you took the opportunity to wiggle your index finger under his chin.
A sudden spurt of laughter came out between puffed cheeks. “Pfttehehe…!” It was less of a giggle and more of a raspberry. You chuckled.
Caine shot his head back to the ground and wrapped his arms around the entirety of his upper jaw to keep his mouth shut.
“Aww, Caine!” You leaned forward. Any semblance of anger seemingly melted away at the mere sight of him trying to hide away. “Are you embarrassed?”
Caine shook his head into the grass. “Nnnehehe…”
“Is that a no?” You asked. “So, you’re not embarrassed?”
With his arms situated above his head like that, it left his armpits completely exposed. You wondered if Caine realized that. Surely, he wouldn’t be this naive to…
You dug your fingers into his armpits.
Caine shrieked.
Maybe he was.
“WAHAHAHA!” Caine’s arms slammed down to his sides with frightening speed. Oh, darn, now your hands were trapped. Oh, well. “Nahahaha—! Nohohot theheHEHEHEERE!” He screamed. “Anywhere buhut—AHAHAHA!! Thehehehere!”
“Ah, so, we have preferences now, do we?”
You drilled your thumbs into the hollows of his armpits. He arched his back. His knees dug into the ground as he tried to give himself the proper leverage to push himself up, but you refused to give him the chance. Not until he apologized.
“HAHAHAHA!” Caine’s laughter turned silent for a few beats. You could feel him squirming underneath you. His shoulders shook violently, which was the only indication he was still laughing. His cackles, loud and desperate, came back at full force once you started prodding at his sides. “HA! EHEHEHE!”
You drummed his sides in quick, uneven taps. Every so often, you made sure to squish the muscle extra hard just to hear him squeal. “Are you ready to apologize, Caine?”
“For WHAHAHAHAT?!”
You blinked. Even when being tickled silly, he still had the gall to talk back. Well, if he wanted to be tickled so bad, he could have just said so.
“If you really don’t know, then I guess I’ll tell you,” you said, “Let’s see…you could apologize for interrupting my me-time, for not letting me finish my drink, for dragging me thousands of feet in the air, for refusing to put me down when I asked…” With every new thing you listed, you returned to spidering your fingers inside the hollows of his underarms. You delighted in the way Caine would let out a new squeaky shriek each time. If you were lucky, you would be rewarded with a snort.
Caine thrashed around. He punched the grass with his fists. The tips of his shoes dug into the ground. “AHAHA! STAHAHAP! Pleeehease!” He hiccuped. “I cahahan’t tahahake this anymore!”
Hearing Caine whine so desperately was enough to give you pause, but that only lasted for a second. “Not until you apologize,” you said.
“FIHIIHIHI–AHAHA!” Tears welled up in Caine’s eyes and dribbled down his jaw. Ew. It looked like spit. “I’m sohohoho–s-sohohoohoryy! Now just stop! HAHAHA!”
True to your word, you stopped. You moved off his back and sat down in the grass next to him.
Caine was heaving violently. He tried to stand up on his hands and knees, but his limbs were still shaking too much to support him. He was still hiccuping, the sound quiet and gentle compared to the harsher wheezes.
You probably would have felt bad for taking things too far if he weren’t an AI. Caine wasn’t human. He probably dealt with much worse daily, and it wouldn’t even phase him.
“Thank you…” Caine said. His words were heavy and drawn out as he was still struggling to catch his breath. That was pretty odd for an AI, now that you thought about it. “Now, where were we?” Caine stumbled onto his feet. It took him a little bit to regain his bearings, but he was floating in the air within seconds.
“Uh—”
“That’s right!” He announced, back to his regular showman voice. “We might have had a brief interruption, but now we’re ready to get back to the tour!!!”
“Wait!” You held up your hands. Did he listen to a word you said? “We can continue the tour after I finish my drink! Okay?” That was probably the closest you could get to a compromise with Caine. You could probably negotiate the whole being airborne thing a little later.
“What? No! We’re already behind schedule!” To prove his point, Caine shoved his wrist into your face. But there wasn’t a watch or anything else there.
You didn’t say anything. Instead, you wiggled your fingers in his direction.
Caine tensed up and backed away a few inches, which made you giggle. “Alright! Fine! Tour after the coffee break!” His next sentence came out so quickly that the words slurred together into just one word. “Here,I’lltakeyouthere!”
He grabbed you by the elbow, and, in an instant, you were back in the cafe. Yay!
Summary: One night, you come home from a long day at work to make a new discovery: The loving partner you've always known to walk with his head high and hide all emotions beneath an icy-cold demeanor seems to be feeling more than just a bit down. But don't you fear, Dr. Zayne! Your beloved knows exactly what you need to feel better and return to your normal, healthy, self again, both mentally and physically!
CW: SFW, tickling & pure fluff
Word Count: 2,960 (lol im so sry if its way too looong)
A/N: Hey, nice to meet you! I'm sure no one knows me yet, but my name is Violet. New in the tickle community (and LaDs community in general although ive been playing for a long time now). Practically live for LaDS. I hope to get along with all the other authors in this community❤️❤️. Sorry for just barging in like this unannounced! I'll apologize in advance because I know my first ff won't be the best, please feel free to give suggestions since I know everyone has much more experience than me! I will work to improve and try to start posting at least once in a week😅! With this fic about Zayne officially being my first work, I decided to make it more centered on my own personal life. I'm a loner, an extremely introverted quiet homebody. I suffer from depression that leads me into endless holes of emptiness and sadness for no specific reasons. That part of me is kind of what came to shape my fondness for tickling! I hope anyone else going through this can find solace in this fic! Here's to a great future with our boys! (even if LaDS isn't your fave fandom) 🌠❄️🐦⬛🐣🍎
P.S. The people I've tagged are just some authors I really look up to cause I admire your works! Thx!
This is a tickle fic btw!
~₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊~
You've just come back from a long and exhausting day at work at the Hunter's Association. You step into you and Zayne's shared apartment, tiredly walking down the hall towards the bedroom. Pushing open the door, you see Zayne lying on the bed, his face turned towards the large window as he looks out at Linkon City's nightscape. His expression is somewhat empty, emotionless. Something seems wrong. You take a step forward.
Zayne can sense your presence, the atmosphere in the room shifting slightly. He doesn't turn to look at you, not right away. Instead, he continues staring out the window, the silence hanging heavily in the air, broken only by the sound of the soft rain outside.
Eventually, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're back late."
You walk over, putting your purse on the nightstand as you stand by the foot of the bed. "How was your day?"
Zayne finally turns his head, his gaze moving to fix on you. There's a weariness in his eyes, a tiredness that he usually hides behind his usual cool facade. He takes a moment before replying, his voice low and quiet.
"Long. Busy. The hospital, the same as always. And yours?"
You take off your coat and hang it on the nearby chair where Zayne's white doctor's scrubs already sway in the occasional warm breeze coming from the heater on the floor, getting into the bed. You lie down next to him, both of you just staring up at the ceiling. The room hangs in dullness, a monotonous feeling you don't usually experience when you're with Zayne. "The same. Missions, assigned one after another. Fighting, maybe around seventy Wanderers today."
Zayne turns onto his side, facing you. He says nothing for a few moments, just studying your face in the dim light. There's a faint scent of the outside clinging to your skin. He reaches out, his fingers gently tracing a drop of rain on your cheek.
"You're damp." His gaze falls on your hunter's uniform, the black and red leather soaked.
You nod. With nothing else to say, you decide on just stating the obvious. "It was raining. A little too much."
Zayne's fingers continue their path down your cheek, lingering for a moment on the soft skin of your jawline before they move to a strand of your wet hair.
"You could've just avoided the downpour, you know. Why do you never use the umbrella I gave you for your birthday last year, the one with the snowflakes on it? Instead, you chose to come in like this. You'll catch a cold, Y/N."
You turn from the ceiling to look at him. You crack a half-smile, a lousy attempt at lifting the mood a bit. "Of course. Of course you know that I would run through the rain like a maniac any day than be a sane person and use an umbrella. No matter how long the distance from the Hunter's Association to the bus station."
Zayne can't help but chuckle back softly at your lighthearted comment, his eyes softening as he looks at you. His hand wanders back to your cheek, his touch tender.
"That I do. How could I ever forget my lover's bold and wild personality? How admirable."
His gaze roams over you, his eyes taking in the sight of you in your work outfit. It's a sight he's lucky enough to be able to witness every day. One he's become quite fond of over the years.
You finally bring a hand to gently caress his cheek with the tips of your fingers. Concern and softness line your face and voice. "What is it, Zayne? Why the long face tonight?" There. You've broached the topic.
He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. It's as if he's savoring the feel of your fingers on his skin, grounding him in the moment.
"It's nothing, dear. Just a long day."
But even as the words leave his mouth, Zayne knows that's only partly true. There's something lingering beneath the surface, something that's been troubling him all day. "Just... work. The usual. Nothing I can't handle."
He shifts a little on the bed, turning onto his back. He's still looking up at the ceiling, the lines on his forehead deepening as his thoughts seem to weigh heavily on his mind.
Your eyes watch Zayne turn away, a soft smile appearing on your lips. Then the smile fades into an indifferent expression as you suddenly push yourself onto your palms and move swiftly, gently straddling him. You look down at him with a teasing yet nonchalant look in your eyes. One hand resting on one side of Zayne's head, your other hand comes down to gently prod at his side. Your voice comes out low but affectionate, teasing him with a poker face. "Oh, is that so?"
Zayne's eyebrows raise in surprise as you suddenly move to hover over him. It's definitely not something he was expecting, though he can't say he's complaining. He doesn't resist, allowing you to get comfortable on top of him. A hint of curiosity flickers in his eyes as he looks up at you, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Y/N? What are you doing, l-love?"
You lean down just a bit to look into his eyes with a fond but mocking gaze, your hand continuing to gently tickle his side. The hint of a teasing smile ghosts your lips. "You used my shampoo again, didn't you?"
Zayne can't seem to grasp what you're trying to do, what relevance this has with the situation at hand.
His forehead wrinkles in confusion, looking up at you with a sense of bewilderment and curiosity. But the feather-like touches very quickly start to get the best of him. A little too quickly. Zayne can feel the corners of his lips twitching, a slight grin breaking through despite his best efforts to hold it back.
"Wh-at? Your shahampoo? Wh-whahahat does thahat-"
His body involuntarily twitches a little in response to your tickling. Zayne's lips purse, trying to suppress his smile as he looks up at you with a mix of annoyance and amusement.
"A-ahahnd whaht i-if I dahaiid?"
A hint of defensiveness sneaks into his voice. He doesn't deny it, but he's not exactly confessing either. Zayne's eyes narrow slightly as he tries to figure out where this is going.
The nonchalant smile tugging at the corners of your lips grows just a bit as you continue to poke and prod at the skin from the outside of the soft material of his cardigan . "After I constantly told you not to?"
Zayne's eyes flicker with a hint of guilt. He's caught, he can't deny it. Your insistence had clearly fallen on deaf ears, but he wasn't expecting you to call him out on it.
"Al-alright. I…m-miahaight have- aha- uused it a t-time or- ahah- two. N-now lehet m-me-"
Zayne's eyes stare up at you. Although his expression is sheepish, teeth briskly biting down on his lower lip in a desperate attempt to suppress his growing smile, he's really trying to find clues in your stoic demeanor, trying to decipher the meaning behind all this.
Your poker face doesn't budge, but the slightly amused look in your eye hints that you could chuckle a bit just about now at Zayne's broken and flustered confession. Your hand delivering another swift poke to his stomach cuts him off. "Would you remind me, Zayne, how many times have we gone through this?"
Zayne flinches slightly at the poke, a small frown forming on his lips. He knows he's in trouble now, but he's still trying to play it cool. He stutters, his tone becoming slightly defensive.
"A f-few t-tahahiimes, I- ahaha!- g-guess! Y-Y/N! Wh-What aahare y-you-"
You can't keep yourself from letting out the low chuckle that finally leaves you as you look down at Zayne's confused and giggling expression as he struggles to give in to the temptation to laugh full-on. He really thinks he can just get away like that. You're not going anywhere anytime soon, Dr. Zayne.
Your hand quickens a bit, traveling to his chest with teasing touches. "Hmm, is that so?" You hum in a low voice.
Zayne tries his best to maintain his composure, he really does. But the look in your eyes, the way you're straddling him, your hand still gently tickling his sensitive spots…it's all too much. He can't quite hide the hint of embarrassment in his voice as he giggles, his body jerking sharply underneath you. He glances away, his face flushed.
It's becoming increasingly difficult for Zayne to maintain his stoic demeanor. You bite back a smile of your own. How cute. Looking into his confused and panicked eyes, your bring your hand lower to his stomach, slipping your hand under his cardigan to drag slow, maddening circles around his navel. The corners of your lips almost begin to curl as you watch his hands immediately grab at yours in desperation. "Zayne, dear, would you care to answer a question for me? Would you count stealing as a crime?"
Zayne blinks. He definitely wasn't expecting that. Yet at the same time he's wearily aware of where this is all going, and he doesn't like it. He tilts his head a little, eyes flickering curiously amidst his helpless laughter.
"U-uahahm, yes! Y-yes, I w-wahahaould s-say that steahahealing c-could be c-cahahonsidered a c-crime!"
You hum. "Then would you consider yourself an offender? Of course, if the stolen item was my shampoo."
Zayne's expression flickers for a moment, but as much as he hates to admit it, he has no choice but to submit to his deeds. Just any means by which he can get himself out of this situation. He glances away for a moment, trying to bury his face into the sheets underneath in an attempt of desperation to hide the very rapidly rising blush on his cheeks, his lips parted as sweet giggles pour out.
You tilt your head to the side, your hand rising higher towards his ribs. "Is that so? Then Zayne, darling, would you kindly tell me what all offenders require?"
Zayne swallows thickly, his eyes darting down to your hand as it moves higher towards his ribs, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. You giggle to yourself. Oh, if only everyone was to see you now, Dr. Zayne. They wouldn't be able to recognize you if they tried! Zayne's eyes widen with alarm, body squirming and jerking sharply under your touch, hands flying everywhere, but it's too late. There's no escape now.
His arms immediately flail, his hands coming up, desperately grabbing, pushing, pulling, doing anything in a hopeless attempt to take hold of your skilled fingers in his. You watch Zayne's face contort, unable to hold back the involuntary spasms of giggles and laughter that overtake him as he struggles underneath you. You can't help the smile that tugs at your own lips at the beautiful sight. No matter how much Zayne might lift in the gym or how sharp-witted he may be at the hospital, he's helpless right now. Completely helpless. And the best part is, he knows it. Too well.
You're quick to pin one of his arms under your knee and the other down against the bed with one hand as your free hand taunts at the exposed skin of his underarms. You lock eyes with Zayne, his own widening in surprise and panic amidst the helpless giggles that bubble from his mouth. They sparkle with mischief. Your voice drops to a note even lower. "That's right. Punishment." You speak as you watch him go crazy, shaking and laughing helplessly the moment your hands come into contact with the sensitive skin.
Zayne's body falls into involuntary spasms. He laughs uncontrollably, his body squirming and twisting on the bed as he desperately tries to free himself, but your hold is too strong.
You simply tilt your head, looking down at him. "Hmm? Not here, you say?"
Sweet, strangled laughter flows from Zayne's mouth, his body jerking and twitching beneath you. His arms twist and pull desperately, but you've got him completely immobilized. You know he would never bring his Evol out on you, no matter how "severe" situations might get. At least, in this position, he's too weak to do even a single thing to stop you.
"N-nOhahAhah! S-sToAhahP, pl-plAHehHshese-ahA!"
Something similar to flowers blooms in your chest as you look down at Zayne's brightly lit face. His lips part in the most adorable heart-shaped smile, his eyes shut tight and crinkled with joy. A rosy pink blush stains his cheeks, his hair scattered across the bedsheets as his head shakes back and forth, almost as if trying to get rid of the feather-like but torturous sensation. As your fingers dance along the tender skin, you open your mouth to speak, voice changing as if you're interrogating him.
"I'll let you go. On one condition. That you answer my last question."
Zayne writhes under you, going insane at your gentle touch. As your words fall upon his ears, he nods vigorously.
Your hand travels from his right to his left underarm. "Would you care to tell me, Zayne, why you are so keen on using only my shampoo to wash your hair? There are so many types we buy whenever we go out shopping. Why, then, does only the soap that I use for my hair fall into your hands every time?"
Zayne shrieks, his body jerking and twitching involuntarily. He tries to reply, but all that falls out is more helpless laughter.
"HAahahaAha…! I- I L-liiaHahAke t-the smAheEhell!"
He tries to squirm away, his back arching slightly as he tries to escape your touch, but it's absolutely no use. You hum.
"The smell? Hmm, is that so? And are you implying that your shampoo doesn't have a fragrance?"
Zayne nods vigorously, tiny droplets of pure joy beginning to form in the corners of his closed eyes. His voice comes out labored, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath between fits of laughter.
"Y-yEAs! N-nOt tHe s-sSAmAhamE! hAhaHaAa…"
"Not the same? Would you care to elaborate for me?"
Zayne's eyes water slightly with mirth, completely at your mercy.
"I- b-bECahAuSe it m-mAHahaKes me th-ThIHink of y-yOuo! HaAHha! I-it remiEhEinds m-mE of y-Ahaoyou every t-time I UuhSese i-iT!"
As quickly as it had started, Zayne's playful torture comes to an end, with you bringing your hands to rest on either side of his head as you look down at him. Your eyes soften a little, just enough not to lose the teasing element in your demeanor. Finally letting the tender smile you had been holding back curl up at the corners of your lips, you let out a soft chuckle, holding his gaze. Bending down until your head is just a few inches from Zayne's ear as you take a soft inhale, you speak in a low but fond voice.
"Keep using it. It smells better on you."
You lift your head up for a moment to hold Zayne's eyes with a gaze of affectionate teasing, the nonchalance never leaving your expression. Then you gently push yourself off him, rolling over to the other end of the bed and pulling the blanket over yourself to look out the window at the lit up city below in one swift move, your back turned towards him.
Zayne blinks, completely breathless and dumbfounded. His heaving body relaxing against the bedsheet as he tries to recover from the tickle attack, his mouth falls open slightly, the surprise, shock, and disbelief reflected on his face as he processes what you've just said. Slowly, a small smile appears on his lips, his eyes softening as he turns to look at your back.
A few moments later, you hear the soft rustling of the sheets, and then finally the familiar warmth and comfort of Zayne's body behind yours.
"Is that why you chose this topic? Because you knew it would get me feeling all fuzzy and loved for on the inside? Because you knew it would help me recover from whatever I was feeling down about? Hmm?"
You don't turn around or say anything, letting his words settle in and the silence to give him his answer. Zayne slowly presses his chest up against your back, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He gently nuzzles against your soft hair, inhaling deeply, savoring the familiar scent of your— no, our— shampoo. The rise and fall of our breaths slowly fall into rhythm. For a moment, Zayne just stays there.
Finally, he speaks in a quiet voice.
"You always know just what to say. How do you do it?"
You finally turn around to look up at him. A soft smile ghosts your lips. You lock eyes with him, tenderness and affection taking over your features. Your voice comes out laced with a sense of care, barely a soft whisper. "How do you feel, Zayne?"
Zayne looks down at you, his expression a mixture of tenderness and gratitude. His eyes hold your gaze with a mirrored fondness. His lips part just enough to release a small sigh, his hand coming up to gently caress your cheek.
"Better. So much better."
He pulls you closer, his other hand wrapping around to draw soothing circles on your side, holding you against him. You let his face nuzzle into your silky tendrils again, leaning into his warm embrace. "Much better?"
Zayne nods, his eyes fluttering closed. He feels completely at ease.
"Much better. I don't know how you do it, but you always seem to know exactly what I need to hear in the moment. Exactly what brings me out of the darkness that pulls me in, in a time of need."
Zayne feels a lump form in his throat. He looks down at you with a mix of gratitude and tenderness, as if he never wants to let go. A silent vow to protect you from anything and everything that may ever hurt you, ever dare to try and blow out your candle. Silently thanking the universe for bringing you into his life. He swallows. There's a small pause before he speaks again, his voice barely a whisper.
"Y/N. I love you."
You melt into Zayne's embrace when you see the former tears of laughter turn into those of tender love, bringing a hand to gently brush them away from his eyes. "I love you too, Zayne. Very, very much."
He looks down at you, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every detail as if it's the first time he's seen you. Then he leans forward, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
"Stay with me tonight? I find it easier to sleep when you're by my side and not rushing off to some emergency midnight mission."
Your fingers gently brush across his face, drying Zayne's tears with a tender smile on your own lips. "Always, my love. Always."
Barbatos gasps as something runs up his side. In an instant, he grabs your hand and pries it away from his body. You’re lucky that it was just the two of you in the Demon Lord’s garden grounds tonight.
He lets out a helpless smile. “My, my, what am I going to do with you?”
You blink owlishly at him. Then, just as though you did not hear a word out of his mouth, you grin. “I didn’t know you were ticklish,” you say—a tad bit louder than what was necessary.
For a moment, Barbatos cringes, but he quickly forces his expression back into one of peaceful neutrality. It’s one of his many talents, after all. “Yes, I suppose you have found a weakness of mine.” He ignores the glint of mischief in your eye. “You should count yourself lucky.”
Barbatos goes back to talking about the different variety of tea leaves around the Devildom, hoping that if he doesn’t linger on the subject, you would soon move on and forget what had just happened. You are…easily drawn to new ideas—in other words—quite distractible, which was a blessing whenever you would try to put your nose in places it frankly did not belong.
“Are you ticklish anywhere else?” You ask. You reach for his stomach, and Barbatos brushes your hand aside. Alas, this little discovery of yours is not going to be forgotten easily.
He wags his finger like he used to do whenever he would scold the younger master for skimping out on his royal duties. “You know it isn’t polite to—” Barbatos deflects the hand that shoots for his ribs—then his hip. “—touch people without permission.”
“It also isn’t nice to keep secrets from others.” You step to the side to try to poke at his torso, but he is quick to dodge your attack.
He backs up when your fingers attempt to wrap themselves around his sides. “I fear those two statements are not comparable.” Barbatos knocks both of your hands away from him with slightly more force than he had meant to.
You stop.
Barbatos pauses with his hands slightly raised. He doesn’t exactly know what you are planning next, but he needs to be prepared for any attempt at a sneak attack you will send his way.
Before he can fully blink, you are on your knees.
You hold your hands up in a pleading manner. “Please can I tickle you?” You bow your head. “I just think it’s cute that you’re ticklish!”
Barbatos’ ears heat up, and he manages to let out an incredulous snicker in response. In the millions of years he has been alive, he has become quite skilled at predicting what others might do next even without having to see the future. But you? You always somehow found a way to do things that Barbatos could never expect.
He covers his mouth with the tips of his gloved fingers to maintain some semblance of politeness. “Alright, fine, you can tickle me since you asked so nicely.” Your head shoots up, and Barbatos has to stifle another laugh when he sees your face light up. “But, only for a few seconds,” he quickly adds.
You scramble to your feet, almost tripping over your feet in the process. “Deal!“ you shout, already making your way toward him. Then, you pause, hesitating.
Barbatos smiles to himself. He has never seen you hesitate before. It’s a good look on you. He straightens up, and, true to his word, stays perfectly still when your hands reach over to cup his jaw. You wiggle your fingers against his neck, sending tingling shockwaves down his skin. Has he always been this sensitive, or are you just a bad influence on him?
“Mmhm, yehehes, this does tihihickle somewhat,” he says. Barbatos scrunches up his shoulders, suddenly caught between wanting to intercept your hands and wanting you to continue. Your fingers trail lower to his upper ribs, and Barbatos presses his arms against his sides. “Hahaha, you enjoy going for a person’s w-weheak spot, don’t you? Ehehehe…eep!” Despite himself, a small squeak manages to tumble out between his lips when you pinch his sides. Your eyes light up, again, and Barbatos shakes his head. “Alright, that’s enough fun for one night.” Barbatos scoops up your hands and pushes them toward you.
You smile—not of satisfaction at achieving your goal but of something…gentler…softer, perhaps. “You have a nice laugh,” you say. “I wish I could hear it more often.”
Barbatos could never predict you. He brushes away some dust on your shoulder. “In private,” he whispers.
Summary: You pick Zayne up from work and relax in your apartment together. Unfortunately for Zayne, your mischievous tendencies can be a bit distracting.
Word Count: 4,098
A/N: Hello, @ticklygiggles!! I was your @squealing-santa this year. :) I hope you enjoy this silly little fic.
This is a tickle fic btw!
~🍓~
As you stood near the front entrance of Akso Hospital, you stared at your phone, spamming your favorite doctor with several text messages to announce your presence. You knew Zayne wouldn’t answer your messages for a while, even though his shift ended a few minutes ago. He was a hard worker, which you admired about him.
A cold breeze cut through the air, and you shivered, drawing your coat closer to your body. Tiny snow flurries scattered throughout the air, dusting your wool hat with white snowflakes. Some of them caught onto your eyelashes. You blinked them away.
Downtown was quite pretty during this time of year. Fairy lights were strung along the buildings, emitting a warm, yellow glow. Some were multi-colored, and others had lights that changed color each second. Red, green, and white banners and garlands wrapped around the light poles.
It was quiet out here save for the occasional sound of a car passing through. You supposed most people didn’t want to be outside when it was so cold. Another breeze passed through. You didn’t blame them.
Your phone buzzed.
You didn’t even get to read the notification before a soft, deep voice sighed behind you.
“You could have waited inside of the lobby, you know?” Zayne shook his head as he stepped closer to you. Snow crunched under his shoes. “Or my office.” He wore a large, brown jacket over his outfit. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets.
You laughed. “Yeah, but this is more romantic, isn’t it?” You held out your arms to your sides. “The snow. The lights. It’s so pretty out here. I couldn’t help it.”
Zayne puckered his lips. If you didn’t know better, you would have said it almost looked like he was pouting. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He readjusted your hat, making sure it covered your ears. “I can’t believe the Hunters Association is forcing you to work during the holidays.”
“I could say the same thing for you,” you said, pulling at his scarf. Not expecting you to do that, Zayne took an awkward step forward. You evened out the ends before forming a loop and tying it up, so it held closer against his neck. You smiled at his surprised expression and pinched his cheek.
“I chose to work this week,” he said quietly.
“Me too.”
Zayne shot you a quiet smile. You both were workaholics, practically married to your respective jobs. Despite the surface-level differences, you and Zayne were very much alike–at least in that regard.
“Come,” he said, jerking his head to the side. “I’ll drive you home.”
You took his hand as he led you to his car. Zayne always parked in the same spot, so you didn’t need him to lead you, but you just wanted an excuse to hold his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves, but his hands were still surprisingly warm. How did he manage that?
“Home?” you repeated with a snort. “Do you mean yours or mine?”
Zayne hummed as he opened the passenger side of the door. You sat inside, shivering when your body came in contact with the leather seats. “Your choice,” he said. He closed the door and entered the driver’s side, swiftly starting the car.
You tapped your index finger against your lip. “Mine,” you answered after a while. “I want you to stay the night.”
“Sounds good,” Zayne said as he drove out of the parking lot.
A few minutes into the drive, you rested your chin against your palm. The colorful lights seemed to blur into one as you passed by. You were tempted to press your cheek against the window, but you knew it would be freezing, so you held yourself back.
“How was work?” you asked, simply wanting to fill the air with something. It didn’t matter what you and Zayne talked about. You just liked being with him.
Zayne took a moment to respond, as though he was recalling what happened today. “It was fine,” he finally said.
You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “That’s it?”
Zayne shrugged. “Not every day can be as interesting as yours.” The hint of a laugh tinged the end of his sentence. “How was work for you?”
“Oh, you know, nothing much,” you said while straightening your posture. “I just saved a mother and daughter from a Wanderer attack.” You flexed your muscles. “No biggie.”
“My hero,” Zayne said. For a second, you thought he was being sarcastic, but his tone sounded strangely sincere.
Unsure what to do with this change in atmosphere, you stared at your lap. “I like waiting for you when you’re done with work,” you said quietly, changing the subject. You knew it was a sudden shift, but you didn’t know what else to say. “It’s the favorite part of my day.”
“Mine too,” Zayne answered.
“Really?” you asked with a slight chuckle.
Zayne spared you a singular glance. Your heart skipped a beat. “Yes, really,” he said. You smiled warmly. You were about to say something else when Zayne interrupted. “We’re here.”
You perked up. “We are?” You looked around and, indeed, you and Zayne were in the parking lot of your apartment complex. “Wow, that was fast.”
Zayne laughed in response. “How time flies.” He stepped out of the car.
Before he could open the passenger door for you, you stepped out and slammed the door shut. Zayne didn’t respond but you did catch him frowning slightly. You stopped his chance to be a gentleman. Hopefully, he didn’t mind too much. You skipped over to him and grabbed his arm as you walked over to your apartment.
There wasn’t any snow or ice on the pavement. The road crew must have come earlier to salt the streets and parking lots. That was good. You wouldn’t have to worry about Zayne slipping and falling. You knew his fancy dress shoes weren’t built for this weather unlike your sturdy boots.
The heat hit you at full blast the second you entered the lobby. It felt comforting–like someone wrapping a large, fluffy blanket around your body.
“I have some spare pajamas in the guest room,” you explained, making your way over to the elevator. “You can take those.” The doors opened with a ding and you stepped inside.
Zayne smiled as he pressed the button to your floor. “They’re my size?”
“Of course,” you said. “It’s always good to be prepared.” You shook your shoulders. “I learned that from a certain doctor.” When the elevator opened, you stepped out and walked over to your room.
The moment you unlocked it and stepped inside, Zayne leaned over and hugged you. You nestled your nose into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. He smelled like peppermint, and his skin felt smooth to the touch. You kissed his jaw, and Zayne pressed his lips against your cheek. While you wouldn’t call Zayne shy per se, he was definitely the type to be reserved when it came to public displays of affection. It was cute.
“I missed you,” he muttered against your skin.
You giggled and tried to pull away. He pulled you back into his embrace for a few more seconds until he finally let you go. His hands lingered on your upper arms as his thumbs softly caressed you.
“Me too,” you said. With a split second of hesitation, Zayne pulled back to start unbuttoning his jacket. You tugged his sleeve. “Wait, let me get that for you.” He stilled, and you helped him peel off his jacket. You hung it on the coat rack next to the front door with a short flourish.
Taking a quick peek in his pockets, you noticed he had one of those hand-warming packets in there. That sneaky doctor. No wonder his hands were so warm earlier. You wondered if he did that on purpose, knowing you would try to hold his hand. Zayne’s thoughtfulness always made your lips curve into a small, appreciative grin. He tried to be subtle with these things, but you knew how much he truly cared for you.
“Thank you,” Zayne said as he untied his scarf and placed it next to his jacket on the rack.
“Go get changed,” you said. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”
Zayne nodded and went to the guest room. You stepped into your bedroom to change into your nightwear before heading to the kitchen and opening the last cabinet on the right. Way in the back was the matching snowman mugs you got for the both of you last year. They were meant to be used for special occasions, and sharing a warm drink in your abode counted, at least, in your opinion.
A part of you wanted to make hot chocolate from scratch, but after the long day of work you had, the mere thought of it made you want to pass out. You had to settle for the instant packet stuff instead.
It didn’t take long for you to prepare the mugs of hot chocolate considering how all you had to do was microwave some milk and stir in the powder. Zayne came up from behind you while you were in the middle of stirring. He had changed fairly quickly. The light blue pajama set suited him. He placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them.
“You should add a pinch of sugar in mine,” Zayne said. He pressed the side of his head against your ear. You could hear him swallow at the end of his sentence.
“Sugar?” you repeated. “This is the powder stuff. It’s already sweet,” you clarified, thinking that Zayne would see the error in his ways.
Zayne glanced at the open box of instant hot chocolate on the counter. “I know,” he said. “It’s just a pinch.”
You should have known. Zayne’s proclivity for sweets had no bounds. Just as he asked, you added a spoonful of sugar to his mug (and then another when he gave you puppy dog eyes). He would have denied it if asked directly, but you knew what he was like.
With your mugs of hot chocolate, you and Zayne sat in the living room. “Do you have any preferences?” you asked as you picked up the remote. You turned on the television and scrolled through the wide array of movies.
“Not particularly,” he said, sipping on his drink.
“Alright.”
You played a random holiday movie that was featured on the front page of the streaming platform. From its summary, it seemed like a decent watch: a meet-cute romance between a hunter and a businessman. Apparently, the hunter teaches the businessman about the magic of the holidays. You settled next to Zayne once the music began to play. He lazily laid his arm around your back.
The beginning of the movie was cute, but your mind began to wander halfway through. As the movie droned on, your eyelids started to droop down. All your hours spent awake working and saving the day were beginning to catch up to you. You were almost finished with your drink by now.
Placing your mug on the coffee table, you leaned into Zayne’s side. He hummed and set down his mug next to yours before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and lying down, dragging you down with him.
“What?” you asked as you awkwardly fell over him. You shuffled around until you were lying down on his side, pressed against him and the back pillow of the couch.
Zayne kissed the top of your head. “You’re feeling tired, are you not?” The gentle drum of his heartbeat almost lulled you directly to sleep. He lowered his voice, so it was barely above a whisper. “You can sleep. Don’t worry.”
You turned your head to the side, nuzzling your nose against his chest. “Okay,” you said with a yawn. “Tell me how the movie ends.”
You hugged his side, your arm worming underneath the small of his back. You sighed as the movie became nothing more than background noise. The rise and fall of Zayne’s chest kept you steady. Every so often, his breath tickled your cheeks. You smiled, your fingers flexing against his back.
Zayne stiffened, and you raised your head slightly. “What’s wrong?” you asked.
“Nothing,” Zayne said, petting the top of your head. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered into your ear.
“Are you sure?” you asked. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You tried to pull your arm from underneath him, but it was stuck–pinned against the couch by his weight.
Zayne squirmed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s just…” Zayne stopped when he saw your expression. You weren’t going to let this go, and he knew it. Zayne bit his lip, his ears suddenly flushing red. “It just tickles. A bit.”
You propped yourself up on your other arm. “Does it?” Experimentally, you curled your fingers, watching in awe as Zayne arched his back. That allowed you to pry your arm from under him. He gave you a pleading expression–like he was begging you to drop your discovery, but how could you?
“Please–” Zayne said, cutting himself off when you clasped his side and squeezed it. “I’m not th–that ticklish…” He bit his bottom lip as you dragged your nails over his stomach. His abs tensed under your feather-light touch. “…so you caha–!!”
Zayne gasped as you suddenly launched your attack across his stomach just above his belly button. He scrunched up his nose, refusing to laugh. He was always so stubborn. You moved over, so you were now sitting on his lap.
“I think you’re more than ‘a bit’ ticklish,” you said.
His lips were caught in an awkward half-smile that he was desperately trying to keep at bay. Zayne grabbed your wrists, temporarily stopping your pursuits. “Don’t you want to finish the movie?” he asked with the tiniest bit of desperation at the edge of his voice. His fingertips quivered against your skin. Even though you weren’t tickling him anymore, he was still trembling.
“This is much more interesting than some movie.” You pulled your hands out of his grip and latched onto his hips. Zayne bucked up on instinct, and you laughed as he almost bounced you into the air. “Wouldn’t you agree?” You massaged the skin, taking care to dig deeper at the spots that made him jerk especially hard.
His eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to stop himself from succumbing to your touch, but you were far, far too powerful. “I–ehehehmhm…” Zayne giggled breathily. It was satisfying to see him break albeit a little. He seemed to be at a loss for words, his cheeks dusting a light pink. His smile, now much wider, wobbled slightly.
Zayne was still trying to half-heartedly stop your devious hands, but it felt more like a kitten pawing at your arms than anything else. You wondered if that was his way of allowing you to keep going. Surely if he genuinely wanted you to stop, he would have put his foot down by now. Alas, Zayne was putty in your hands. You were one of his few weaknesses.
Your fingers slowly wandered up his torso as they made their way to his ribs. Zayne jumped, clamping his arms to his sides. This seemed to be a much more sensitive area, which you took to your full advantage. “Is this a bad spot, Dr. Zayne?” you asked in a light-hearted tone. “Are you too ticklish for your own good?” You clawed at the soft skin in between the grooves of his ribs.
If you were particularly evil, you might have even tried to tickle him underneath his shirt, but you were feeling a little merciful today.
Zayne squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly no longer able to look at you. “Behehe quiehehet!” he suddenly cackled. “Dohohon’t tickle me there! Eheheh!” He grabbed at your upper arms but didn’t try too much to stop you. Even though you were nowhere near his hips, they still jerked and flinched with every new spot you explored.
“So I can tickle you somewhere else, then?” you teased.
“Nohoho!” he gasped out. Zayne turned his head from side to side as he attempted to wiggle out from underneath you. It was no use, however. You were simply too determined. “Stahahap!”
His laughter was deep and almost husky, peppered with the occasional gasp or winded yelp. It was beautiful. Zayne twitched and jumped with each poke and prod. He was so sensitive. It enamored you. You wished Zayne would laugh like this more often. The sound needed to be captured in a bottle and tossed out to the sea for everyone to have a chance to hear.
“You’re so beautiful, Zayne,” you said softly.
You wondered what Zayne would have said if you weren’t tickling the life out of him. He tossed his head back and cackled when you started digging your fingers deep into the soft fleshy parts of his sides. “Ahahahaha! I–I cahahan’t–!” He squealed, squirming from side to side. “I cahan’t tahahahahake it anymore!” Zayne tried to curl up into a ball, but he couldn’t do that with you sitting on his legs.
“Do that again!” you said, trying to elicit that same squeaky squeal. You dragged your nails up and down his sides, but you weren’t as lucky this time. Oh well.
“This ihihihis too muhuhuch!” Zayne managed to giggle out. He kicked his legs out from underneath you, but you held yourself steady. “Hhh…ehehey!” His shirt rode up a bit, revealing a sliver of rosy pale skin. A slight sheen of sweat glistened against his toned stomach, and you realized that you were, indeed, evil. Very evil.
You targeted his exposed skin. Your fingertips immediately latched onto his bare stomach, tickling him there. His muscles flexed instinctively underneath your touch. You dug your thumbs into his soft warm skin, and he jumped. The way his stomach shuddered with each gasp of breath in between wild laughter made you want him more. You could simply devour him.
Not wanting to go too far, you slowed down. Now, you were lightly dragging your fingers up and down the sides of his stomach. “I like hearing your laughter,” you said quietly, “It’s lovely.” You were barely speaking above a murmur, so you weren’t sure if he could hear you much less understand your words.
“Hehehmmhmm…” Tiny droplets of tears clung to Zayne’s eyelashes, sparkling under the soft overhead light. It took him a moment to realize what you just said, but when he did, Zayne flushed a nice shade of red. His cheeks twitched as residual snickers spilled past his lips. “Thank you,” he mumbled awkwardly. You didn’t blame him. It was an odd compliment considering the circumstances. It was nice seeing him all embarrassed. Zayne shifted slightly, staring off to the side. “I uhahahAHAHA!”
Unfortunately, that little moment of peace had to come to an end because you were once again overcome with the same ruthless mood that started this mess. You began tickling his armpits. He flinched–hard. It didn’t take long for you to find a spot at the very center of his underarms that made him cackle. Your thumbs drilled directly into his armpits, and you snickered at the way he jolted.
“Whoa,” you said in between your own giggles.
“WAHAHAIT!” he practically screamed. “Not thehehehere! Nohot thehereee…!” Zayne managed to flip himself over on his side even though you had been sitting on his legs. Huh. You sat on your knees, hovering over his lower body. He crossed his arms to his chest, effectively blocking you from tickling him. “Ehehehe,” he giggled.
“Come on, please, Zayne?” you asked. “Just five more minutes?” You tried to lift his arm, but he wouldn’t budge.
“No,” Zayne said, slightly out of breath.
You puckered your lips. “What? You can’t handle a little bit of tickling?” You poked down the length of his arm with each word. “Are you too ticklish?”
He shivered. “I’m not–” Zayne began to protest before he thought better of it. He puffed out his cheeks and corrected himself. “I’m not that ticklish.”
You pressed your index finger into his cheek. “I beg to differ.”
“Be quiet.”
You chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.”
“Cute,” Zayne repeated under his breath. “That isn’t a word most people would use to describe me.”
“Well, most people don’t know you the way I do.”
Brushing his bangs out of the way, you leaned down and kissed his temple. His forehead was a bit damp. Probably from sweat. Oops.
Zayne closed his eyes and nodded. Then, to your surprise, he lifted his arm. “Five more minutes,” he said quietly. He glanced at you for a brief second before diverting his attention elsewhere. His ears were redder than you had ever seen them.
You blinked. You blinked again. You were tempted to scoop Zayne in a hug and kiss him repeatedly, but you couldn’t waste this opportunity. Your heart pounded in your chest. Who knew when you would get this chance again?
You reached over and–
Zayne flinched, bringing his arm down before you got close to his underarm. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered under his breath. He repositioned himself, so he was lying down on his back, again.
“I’m surprised most people don’t call you cute,” you said, pinning his arm above his head. “They’re really missing out on this side of you.”
You lightly dragged the tips of your nails around his underarm, and Zayne’s body went rigid. He bit the inside of his cheek to probably stop himself from breaking into laughter right away, but the way he puckered his lips and scrunched up his face told you everything you needed to know.
Zayne let out an odd, strangled hum, and you knew he was done for. “Aha–ahAHAhaha!” He hiccuped before his laughter softened into sweet giggles.
“Aw, you’re so–”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence because of Zayne’s abrupt cackle when you started clawing at his armpit. “Eeehehahh…HAHA!”
“That was a weird noise,” you said. You prodded at his sensitive skin, wiggling and swirling your thumbs against it as much as you could.
“Shhhehehahaha…shut uhuhuhp!” His free arm lightly batted away at you, but you didn’t let that deter you.
You puckered your lips into a fake pout. “Seriously, Zayne? How rude.” You dug your fingers into his armpit.
You loosened your grip on Zayne’s arm, and it immediately came crashing down, pressing it up against himself. You took this as an opportunity to tickle his other underarm, as well. You quickly spidered your fingers, targeting any spot you could manage.
“AHAHA! Wahahait! Wahait!” The corners of Zayne’s eyes crinkled as he tossed his head to the side, filling the room with the melodious sound of his laughter. “St-stahaHAHAP! I cahahan’t take it! I’m seriOUS! Hahaha!”
Zayne grabbed your hands, prying you off of him. Deciding to be nice, you stopped. You stole a quick kiss from his lips, which was still quirked up in a wide, sappy grin. He sighed as his chest heaved up and down. His chest trembled while he tried to catch his breath.
“You good?” you asked.
Zayne nodded breathlessly. His fingers twitched at his sides. For a moment, you thought he was going to exact his revenge before he grabbed your shoulders. He pulled you down, and you clumsily fell on him with a soft gasp. He liked doing this to you, didn’t he?
“Don’t tease me anymore,” he said into your ear. His voice was slightly weak with just a hint of a pant. He pulled you into a hug, embracing you with two strong arms. “I don’t think I will be able to handle it tonight.” His warm breath brushed against the shell of your ear. You shivered.
You smiled against his collarbone. “I’ll try not to,” you said, cuddling him. “No promises, though.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Hmm…love you, Zayne,” you whispered into his shirt.
“I love you, too.” He kissed your forehead.
You closed your eyes with a small, content sigh. Zayne’s warmth and peppermint fragrance soothed you. His steady breathing slowed down into long, deep exhales. His chest rose and fell against you, bringing your head up and down with him. You hummed. The witty reply in the back of your mind soon dissipated into nothing but flurries and fairy lights.
Somewhere in the background, the movie finished with the two romantic leads caught in a passionate kiss outside in the snow.
Summary: It's time to take some cute pictures at the photo booth! But wait...Zayne isn't smiling. Good thing you have a solution.
Word Count: 1,788
This is a tickle fic btw!
~🍓~
You trekked around the mall with a penguin plushie in one hand and Zayne’s hand in the other. His fingers were quite cold, which you would have normally assumed was due to his Evol, but you knew it was because he had only just thrown away the extra-large slushie he had bought earlier. It was cute how Zayne couldn’t resist sweets, but dang, couldn’t he have bought a piece of candy or a treat that was a little warmer?
Zayne absentmindedly brushed his thumb against your hand, only stopping when you halted in the middle of the mall. “What’s wrong?” he asked, scanning the area in front of you. There wasn’t anything of note except for the department stores, a couple of kiosks selling jewelry, and one other thing.
You pointed toward the far side of the wall near where a couple of shoppers were milling about. “Photo booth,” you said dreamily. It was honestly a pretty small thing, but the glittery lights and the cutesy polka dots that decorated the small pink and blue box told you everything you needed to know.
“Ah, is that all?”
“What do you mean?” You wagged an index finger in front of his face. “This is a Twinkle Photo Booth! I heard the mall was getting one, but I didn’t know it was going to be this soon.” You tugged on Zayne’s arm. “Do you want to take a photo with me?”
Zayne sighed. A helpless look briefly crossed his face. You knew that he was incapable of saying no to you. You could be very persuasive when you wanted to be.
He nodded, allowing you to drag him across the mall. “Fine, let’s take a couple of photos.”
You laughed victoriously and slipped inside the photo booth with Zayne trailing behind you. You placed your penguin plushie on one side of the bench so that Zayne could sit on your other side. When he settled next to you, he reached over and dragged the curtain closed to give you two some privacy. Before you could get your wallet out, Zayne had already fed the money into the machine. He paid for a standard four-photo set.
You pretended to pout. “I was going to pay.”
“Too bad. I already did,” he said.
“So cold.” You shook your head playfully and turned to face the camera in front of you. The screen below it lit up, and you could see you and Zayne staring back at yourselves. Unfortunately, your plushie was a bit too short to be properly seen, so you picked it up and pressed it against your chest. A countdown was displayed on the screen, and you pulled out your patented peace sign—the perfect photo booth pose. Although your smile was dazzling and took up half of your face, Zayne’s expression looked like he had just seen a car crash. His eyebrows were furrowed, with his lips stuck perpetually in a straight line.
The camera flashed. It had taken your first photo.
You wrinkled your nose. “Zayne? Why aren’t you smiling?”
He tilted his head to the side, seemingly genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean? I am smiling.” Zayne pointed to his lips, which had not budged a centimeter.
“No, you’re not,” you said. “You look so serious.” You placed your penguin plush to the side. “We’re not in the hospital right now, Dr. Zayne. You can afford to relax.” You waggled your shoulders playfully, which only seemed to confuse Zayne even more.
“Not everyone can have your bubbly demeanor,” he teased, brushing a lock of hair across your forehead.
“Maybe not,” you reluctantly agreed, “but everyone can smile.” You leaned closer to Zayne and pinched his torso.
He jolted, his back straightening up. “What are you doing?” he asked. His words came out slightly rushed, and if you listened closely, you could hear the smallest wobble at the end of his sentence.
You squeezed the area just above his hip, and Zayne lurched away from your touch. “What does it look like? I’m just trying to help.”
Your fingers danced up his sides, causing Zayne to push himself against the back of the wall. “Stahap that–!” he giggled. His cheeks turned red at the sound of his own laughter.
Another flash! Second photo down.
You spidered your fingertips up and down his ribs, which made Zayne choke on his spit. “But you have such a pretty smile,” you said.
It was true. Sunlight seemed to beam directly on Zayne’s face as his laughter danced in the air. It was alluring—almost impossible to look away from. His lips curled up shakily as though his body wasn’t used to doing something that seemed second nature to you.
“Waihihit, plehease!” He curled in on himself, but that didn’t stop you from pivoting to tickle his thighs. “Ahahah!” Zayne kicked out in surprise, but you dodged him. You had years of hunter training to thank for that. “Someone wihihill hear us!” He bit his lips to try to muffle the sounds of his own giggling, but it wasn’t particularly effective.
“I think that’s…” You stopped when you felt something awkwardly grasping at your stomach. Zayne had managed to fight back from your so-called tickle torture. His fingers flexed against your shirt once and then twice when you didn’t react. Zayne’s face scrunched up slightly—the same way it did when he was dealing with a difficult case. “Ah, sorry, Zayne, but I’m not very ticklish myself.”
A third flash. One more to go.
He perked up in surprise, but kept trying to tickle you, and you had to admire how persistent he was being. Although Zayne didn’t look like it at first glance, he could be quite stubborn. While that personality trait was effective when researching potential treatments for his patients, he was only locked in a losing battle right now.
Zayne tried clawing at your sides and then your hips, but all you did was shrug. “But you used to be.” He was referring to the tickle fights you would have as children. They were admittedly few and far between (Zayne seemed reluctant to touch you as children), but you vaguely recalled that the two of you seemed to be on a somewhat equal playing field whenever you did fight.
“I suppose I grew out of it.” Your eyes twinkled mischievously. “And you didn’t.”
Zayne frowned. It almost looked like he was pouting. You weren’t sure if that or his smile was cuter. “I don’t understand.” He half-heartedly drilled his thumbs into your underarms. “You are the most vivacious, lively person I know. You find humor in everything, and I can rarely find you without a smile or a joke up your sleeve.” He squeezed your sides in defeat. “How are you not ticklish?”
You laughed, but only at how surprisingly childish Zayne was being. You didn’t expect him to be so hung up on what was practically nothing. You took this opportunity to sneak in another attack. Your fingertips glided up his lower back, and Zayne gasped. He tried to push you away, but you latched onto his armpits. He managed to fight off his laughter for just a few seconds before breaking into a light, airy sort of giggle. His voice was deep but surprisingly carefree, or as carefree as he could have been with you being a little shit.
“Honestly, I’m more surprised about you, Dr. Zayne.” You prodded at his armpits, which seemed to drive Zayne up the wall. He trembled and twitched in a desperate attempt to get away from you.
“Yoohoohou…!” he whined.
“I mean,” you continued, ignoring him, “you are always so quiet and reserved. Who would have known that you would still be so ticklish all these years later?”
Zayne flushed from his ears all the way to his neck from your teasing. Dang, you barely even said anything. He jumped this way and that. “Noooo!” he hiccuped. “Stohop tihihihckling me!”
Yet another flash.
Oh! “That was the last photo!” you called out.
You leaped up from the bench and tossed open the curtain just in time to see the photo booth print out your four snapshots on two strips of paper. You swiped the pictures and turned around to see that Zayne had collapsed on the bench.
His cheeks were still a bright shade of reddish pink, and his sweater was disheveled and wrinkled in ways you didn’t think were possible. His collared shirt underneath didn’t fare any better as one side of his collar had popped out of the neckline, and the other one was seemingly lost in the expanse of his sweater. He placed his hands over his chest, and you could see how quickly it was rising and falling with each labored breath.
What was even worse was that your penguin plush had somehow ended up on the floor during the kerfuffle.
You might have gone just a bit too far this time.
“Oops, sorry,” you said, scratching the back of your head. “Are you okay, Zayne?”
He nodded and sat up. “I’m fine.” He straightened out his sweater. “You are quite…” he paused for a moment. “...tenacious, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat.
You smiled awkwardly.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.”
Zayne stood up and held out his hand expectantly.
You hadn’t even looked at your photos yet. You glanced down and saw that, while the first photo looked pretty normal (albeit with a straight-faced Zayne), the second and fourth ones featured Zayne’s features all contorted into hysterical laughter, complete with red cheeks and tiny pricks of tears in his eyes.
The third picture was your favorite as it captured a rare disappointed Zayne—furrowed eyebrows and all. Honestly, that was even rarer than a grinning Zayne. Perhaps Zayne didn’t need to smile to capture a great photo, after all.
You giggled before tearing paper in half to give Zayne one of the strips. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, and he let out a soft chuckle as he took in each individual photo. “These are perfect. I will have to take your advice more often.”
“Really?” you said, your face lighting up. You grabbed your penguin plushie before heading out of the photo booth. Zayne grabbed your hand, and you two continued your walk around the mall. “Does that mean I can tickle you whenever I want?”
Zayne shook his head. His eyebrows did that adorable furrowing thing that you had grown to like. “I wouldn’t take it that far, but…” he hesitated when he saw you wilt. “...ah…maybe. Some other time, though.”
You cheered and tugged on his arm in delight. Zayne knew just how to make you smile.
“Hey, MC! Check this out!” Mammon flexed his bicep. His boney arm was a pretty stark contrast against his pristine white tank top.
“What am I looking at?” You asked, playing with your straw with your tongue. You had barely drank two sips of your drink before Mammon waltzed in your room parading around like a clown.
Mammon puffed out his cheeks before flexing his arms, again. “My guns, duh!” He hit a different pose. This one showing off his lanky back. “Now ya don’t gotta like Beel’s workout pics on Devilgram anymore.” Another pose. This one had him flexing both of his arms in front of him. “Ya got the real deal right in front of ya!”
You placed your cup on your side table. “Is this what all that’s about?” You asked. “Honestly, Mammon, you’re such a child.” You stepped over behind him.
“I’m not a child! Ya just—AIEEEEE!” Mammon screamed when you dug your fingers into his armpits. He slammed his arms against his sides, but it was too late for him.
“What was that?” You asked.
Mammon’s legs immediately gave out from under him, and you followed him to the floor, tickling him all the while. “Heheheheey!! Q-Quihihit it!”
“Not until you admit you’re being childish.”
“I’m nahahat!”
You shrugged. “Then, I guess I’ll have to keep tickling you forever.” Of course, you weren’t actually going to do that. It would be too cruel, not to mention tiring. However, Mammon’s look of pure terror was too funny not to tease.
“Fihihihine FINE!” He shrieked. “I’m being childish! Hahaha! I’m beheheing—wahaait stop plehease!” Mammon began to babble in between giggles.
True to your word, you stopped, leaving Mammon to pant for air on the floor. “You don’t need to show off to me, you know?” You said, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. “I like you just the way you are.” You poked the tip of his nose for good measure.
Mammon flushed, but he still managed to give you the tiniest of nods. “Y-Yeah, I know,” he said.
You straddled Mammon’s hips on top of your bed. You took delight in the way he squirmed underneath you, gently holding both of your wrists away from his torso. His cheeks were flushed with a nervous, trembling smile plastered over his face.
“St-stop,” he stuttered. His voice came out high-pitched and whiney. “I know what you’re gonna do…” He dragged out that last word before he squeezed his eyes shut.
You chuckled, breaking out of his weak grip to tweak his sides. Mammon jumped and gasped. His eyes flew open as his face somehow turned a darker hue. “What am I going to do, Mammon?” you asked.
Mammon pressed his lips in a thin line. He crossed his arms over his chest protectively, but interestingly enough, he let his stomach unguarded. “You’re gonna…gonna…” Mammon whined again.
You wiggled your fingers right over his stomach. His shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of his delicious skin. You traced your index finger along the hemline. Mammon shivered. “Stop teasin’ me,” he muttered. His hand grazed over yours. You waited for him to do something: to take your hand, push you away, or even tighten his grip a tad, but nothing happened.
“Whatever you say.” You grinned at him. Mammon squeaked.
Gently, you ran your fingers over his abdomen. His muscles grew taut underneath your touch, and he kicked one of his legs out. He burst into helpless cackles. “Stahahap!” Mammon grabbed onto your arms just beneath your elbows. “Ehehehe…I-I cahahan’t—!” Mammon didn’t even get to finish his sentence before you dug your fingertips into his sides. He squawked in surprise.
You weren’t being particularly rough. In fact, you weren’t really touching him that much at all. Mammon was just horrifically ticklish. “You’re so cute,” you said as your fingers explored his torso. His skin was warm and soft. You loved it. You loved him.
don't feel pressured or anything but can i maybe request prompt 29, magic, with lee!Satan? ler of your choice
A/N: ANON, I KNOW IT HAS BEEN A BAJILLION YEARS PLEASE DON’T HATE ME
Satan/Reader
Word Count: 873
This is a tickle fic btw blah blah blah you get the drill.
~🍓~
The fireplace in the House of Lamentation’s library crackled quietly. It was a comforting ambience that perfectly contrasted the vicious pain you were going through.
Your face involuntarily twisted up into a puckered frown at what were basically hieroglyphics etched into this damn book. You couldn’t make heads or tails at this new spell Satan wanted you to learn for the quiz tomorrow. Even your favorite tutor couldn’t help you translate these steps into something your feeble human mind could comprehend.
Satan tapped the page with one finger. “Do you feel ready to try out that spell, now?” A part of you hated how nonchalant he seemed. His chin was perched squarely in the palm of his hand. A small smile graced his lips as though he wasn’t asking you to do the impossible.
Granted, the spell seemed so embarrassingly simple at first blush. All it was supposed to do was grow flowers in the hair of the target (a surprisingly pretty enchantment considering where you were currently residing), and Satan had oh so graciously volunteered to be your little test subject.
You should have been grateful, but all you felt in that moment was that familiar sensation of irritation crawling up your chest like a withering insect.
Scowling, you grabbed the spell book, which was thick with dusty, cracked leather, and brought it up to your nose, so Satan couldn’t see. “Almost,” you mumbled.
“Take your time.” Satan waved his hand like it was no big deal.
And it wasn’t. You knew that, and he knew that. One quiz wouldn’t ruin your entire grade, but a part of you wanted to feel mad for no good reason, and Satan was the prime target.
When he wasn’t looking, you flipped over to a section of the book you were extremely familiar with. You smiled. “Okay, I’m ready.”
You took a deep breath and muttered out the incantation quietly enough so that your victim wouldn’t hear you.
For a brief moment, you thought you had managed to mess up your go-to spell, but Satan suddenly hunched over in his chair. He hugged himself as his face suddenly grew into a rather lovely hue of red.
“W-what’s goihing—“ Satan stuttered out before hiccuping once and falling into a heap of laughter. He hid his face in his hands (perhaps to hide his embarrassment) and cackled. “Whahahat dihihihihid you do?”
“I dunno,” you said, trying to play dumb. “I did the spell like it told me to do.” You glared at the book as though it was to blame.
Satan shook his head. “You liahahahar!” He wheezed and clutched his stomach. When he couldn’t find any relief from the sensations, he turned to slamming his fist on the table. Your assortment of color-coded pens went flying with each bang. “Whehehen does thihis curse eeheheHEHAHA—“
He pushed his chair back and crumbled to the floor as his laughter suddenly got more intense. You hadn’t realized Satan was so sensitive. This was good information to use for later. Perhaps for some blackmail if the situation ever called for it.
Even though Satan had called out your (admittedly thinly-veiled) bluff, you still hid your own growing smile behind your hand. You enjoyed how squeaky Satan’s laughter was. It was a shame you didn’t hear it too often. You had grown rather accustomed to his evil, maniacal laughter that would pop out whenever he would think of a new prank to get Lucifer. This was a nice change.
“Oh, it only lasts for a couple of minutes or so,” you answered.
“Thahahat lohong?! I cahahahan’t take ihihihit!” He kicked his legs out, and rolled from side to side. It seemed like he was struggling to stay still.
“Dang, are you that ticklish?”
You could tell Satan was trying to glower at you, but his usually terrifying rage face was dampened by his bright smile and flushed cheeks. He looked more like a giggling school boy rather than the powerful demon you knew. You wanted to pinch his cheeks, but that would put your fingers in prime chomping range.
Satan hiccuped, again. He gasped for air. “Shut uhuhup!” His laughter was slowing down. The spell must have been wearing off. What a shame.
When he finally stopped laughing, you reached out to help him get up. “Are you good?” you asked.
“No,” he spat out before grabbing your hand. Satan hoisted himself back into his chair and crossed his arms. “Why did you do that?” He asked, his face still noticeably pink. Satan had always blushed so easily—much to his detriment. “My cheeks hurt.” He massaged his face.
You shrugged and picked your pens back up. “I think I needed a break. That flower-hair spell is too hard. I can’t learn it in time for tomorrow’s quiz.”
Satan nodded. “You’re right. You do need a break.”
“I do?” You stopped in the middle of organizing your things and blinked owlishly. “Really?”
“Yes, and I’ll help you with that!”
Before you could react, Satan pounced on you, sending the both of you tumbling to the ground. You thought he was going to enact his revenge, but a sudden kiss had stolen your breath. Huh. Maybe you did need a break, after all.
