(So I’m exhausted and I’ve been going through some ~family issues~ but I live and here’s a fic that I finished a couple of weeks ago. I’m still not doing too hot, so I don’t know if I’ll post anything else for a while, but I’m technically okay and I’ll probably still write on and off for the next few weeks. On a lighter note, I actually really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you all like it!)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Fandom: Cookie Run: Ovenbreak (can apply to Kingdom as well)
Ship: Pre-romantic(?) Licorice x Herb
Characters: Lee!Licorice, Ler!Herb
Words: 3106
Potential Warnings: I see Dark Enchantress as a pos but she’s only talked about, not physically there; mentions of kidnapping (but once again, no action)
"Stupid Dark Enchantress, sending me on this dumb tracking mission…"
Licorice was not having a good day. His normally-respectable boss, Dark Enchantress, had called for him earlier that day. She said she had an "important mission" for him -- but he felt that any old subordinate could have pulled this off. He was meant to track down someone named Gingerbrave, as he had been in contact with some hero-types lately and could have some valuable information. A simple fetch quest -- how insulting. Licorice couldn't believe it! He'd shown so much dedication to the Enchantress, hoping that she would throw him a bone and treat him like a proper employee, and he'd put so much effort into even the smallest of assignments (though he often screwed up). But apparently, he just wasn't good enough.
Well, fine then. He didn't need her anyway! It's not like she would even notice if he quit.
But...for as much as he didn't want to say it, he did need Enchantress. She'd given him purpose, for as twisted as it was, and he needed to help her see all of her plans to fruition. That was the deal, and if he didn't complete his own duty, then he'd be regarded as a coward. He was at an impasse.
He thought for a moment as he walked, trudging his feet in the dirt. His adversary, Pomegranate, had received a much better quest than him -- she was going to spend the next week designing weapons and writing spells to make Enchantress' forces even stronger. Just thinking about it made Licorice green with envy. He could do impressive things, too! He just had to prove himself, and with the slim opportunities he was getting, he'd have to go above and beyond.
What if, instead of simply interrogating this Gingerbrave guy, he kidnapped him instead? Then he'd bring him back to Enchantress, and she would not only be proud of Licorice's accomplishment, but she'd also have a potential new underling. If anything, that would put Licorice above someone else, and he'd get closer to being Enchantress' favorite! The sorcerer snickered deviously -- all part of his master plan. That'd show all of them! He felt powerful just thinking about it.
That is, until he tripped and tumbled into someone's garden.
"Agh! What the--?!" Licorice growled with annoyance, muttering curses to himself while trying to stand. Unfortunately, whatever kind of plants these were had long and thick vines, and the more he struggled, the more tangled he became. "What kind of maniac grows something so frustrating?!"
"Oh, my goodness, are you alright?" a sweet voice called out. Licorice flinched and looked up, making eye contact with a young and adorable gardener.
He was very sweet-looking -- that was the first thing that Licorice noticed. His hair was soft and a light green color, and he had a tan skin tone. His clothes were simplistic and modest, and he was slightly covered in dirt. He looked concerned, and Licorice realized that he must have stumbled into this person's garden in particular. "So this one is responsible for these stupid vines," Licorice thought.
"Yeah, I'm...fine." His response wasn't convincing in the slightest, but what else was he supposed to say? "I just...fell and got stuck, I guess. Stupid things..."
"Do you want some help?" the gardener asked, holding his hand out kindly. Licorice sneered.
"I'm fine," the sorcerer repeated, struggling but remaining tangled. "I can handle it. But while you're here, do you know anything about a guy named Gingerbrave?"
The plant lover did not respond right away. He stared at Licorice, clearly studying him and trying to figure out his motive. Licorice glared back -- he knew this soft boy probably wasn't going to tell him anything, but it was worth a shot. What could go wrong?
"I...don't know much about who you speak of," the gardener answered finally, "but I might be able to point you in the right direction. Just let me help you get free, first."
Licorice rolled his eyes impatiently. "Fine. Make it quick, alright?"
The kind man nodded and knelt down, working to gently untangle the vines. "My name's Herb, by the way. What's yours?"
"None of your business," the sorcerer grumbled rudely, tapping his foot and letting Herb do what he needed to. This wasn't a horrible setback, but it was still a waste of time, and this made Licorice angry. The sooner he got out of this jungle that could barely be called a garden, the better. He had an evil plan to put into motion, and being slowed down wasn't helping him at all.
"Ah, hold on, there's a really big knot right here...might take a little while," Herb pointed out.
Licorice groaned. "Why don't you just get some shears and-- AAH!" The spellcaster jerked in surprise at the very sudden feeling of fingers on his rib cage. They weaved underneath the vines and wiggled around, making him clear his throat and look away. "L-look, just hurry up!"
"Of course. I'm going as fast as I can without hurting you or my plants," Herb explained, continuing to prod around Licorice's torso and make him twitch with suppressed mirth and embarrassment.
There was no "big knot," really. Just one small vine curled around Licorice's torso. It could be undone easily, if Herb found the end of it. But, of course, Licorice didn't need to know that. He was clearly up to no good, with the way he'd been muttering and sneaking around before tripping into Herb's precious garden, and then he'd asked about Gingerbrave. Herb was a generally trusting person, but he wasn't stupid, and he'd never sell out one of his friends. So for now, he'd distract this mysterious stranger, and then he'd send him on his way.
Apparently, though, his "untangling" method was yielding some interesting results.
Licorice was trying to cover up his reactions, and he was failing miserably. He wasn't laughing (yet), but he was still flinching at every little poke that Herb gave to his torso. He bit his lower lip in an effort to hide a growing smile.
"Are you okay there?" Herb asked after a few moments. His voice was kind, but with a slight air of amusement to it -- it made Licorice's ears go red.
"I-I'm fine!" the sorcerer snapped, though it sounded more like a squawk in execution. He tugged at the vines on his wrist -- Herb hadn't undone them yet, and he was still stuck.
"You've been saying that a lot, and I'm starting to think it's not true," Herb hummed, deciding to use Licorice's nerves to his advantage. The gardener started by poking more strategically, testing the waters -- he first counted a few ribs, and then he went in between them for good measure. Then he walked his fingers up and down Licorice's side. The smothered giggles were absolutely worth it.
"Y-yohou're doing that on puhurpose!" Licorice whined, trying to seem annoyed. Herb simply chuckled at him.
"I don't really know what you're talking about -- of course I'm purposefully trying to untangle these vines." Feeling a little more playful, Herb gave a few soft pokes to Licorice's underarms (this earned a not-so-quiet squeak), and then he went a bit rougher by tweaking Licorice's lowest rib.
"GAHA--" Half of a cackle escaped the sorcerer before he clamped his mouth shut out of embarrassment. Herb smiled at him sweetly.
"What's so funny?"
"N-nothing!" Licorice blurted, looking away from the gardener and wishing that he could hide the smile that he was failing to force down. He had to make it through this -- he was not going to be humiliated by some simple, random man that he had stumbled across on this stupid mission.
"Nothing?" Herb confirmed with a soft chuckle. "But you laughed."
"I did not," Licorice responded indignantly, having a sort of 'how dare you' tone. "I'm a sorcerer, and a powerful one too. Dark sorcerers don't laugh."
"Oh, really?~"
At the sudden mischievous tone, Licorice went bright red and gulped. He'd made a challenge, he realized, and that would likely be the death of him. He didn't get another chance to protest before Herb started kneading at his stomach, making him break out into surprised guffaws.
"BAHAHA, WAHAHAHAIHIHIT! NAHAHAHA!"
Herb smirked slightly, still kneading gently as well as he could through Licorice's cloak. It didn't really seem to protect the sorcerer much, though -- he was already cackling, and Herb couldn't tell if it was from the tickling itself or the built-up tension.
"GEHEHET OHOFF OF MEHEHE!" Licorice protested, kicking his legs and reaching to try and pull his hood over his face. Why, of all things, did it have to be this?! It didn't hurt him, physically or mentally, but it was embarrassing -- his laugh was loud and he hated it, and he was more ticklish than he'd ever care to admit. He couldn't tell what was worse -- the idea of any of his coworkers finding out about this, or having this weakness exploited by a random cute guy.
"But why should I? I'm helping," Herb teased. The growl that Licorice tried to respond with lost its thunder as it was swallowed up in his laughter. He started to object and declare that he was not, in fact, helping -- but then he noticed that the gardener had started kneading with only one hand, and he was moving the vines around Licorice's legs. Of course. The sorcerer pouted a bit, trying to regain his composure and squirming away from Herb's ticklish touch.
After a little while, the kneading stopped, allowing Licorice to catch his breath. He whispered a few not-so-subtle curse words, and he eyed Herb carefully as the other worked around his calves and thighs.
"Are you doing okay there?" Herb asked, looking up and meeting Licorice's gaze. His expression was genuine, and the sorcerer could only respond by averting his gaze with a flustered grumble. Herb chuckled a little. "Alright, good."
The gardener began working to unwind a rather thick vine, which was curled around Licorice's thighs and knotted with other vines in some places. This one was going to take a while. Herb sighed and started by untangling the knots -- they were all tight and close to Licorice's legs, so they were hard to work with.
But as he worked, his fingers brushing against Licorice's legs, the sorcerer flinched at each little touch. He glared at Herb, but this proved to be a bluff as his shy smile began to creep its way back onto his face. "Cahan you go any faster?!" Licorice snapped in an effort to hide his rising giggles.
Herb didn't seem to be threatened, and he instead raised an eyebrow at Licorice with a teasing smile. "Don't tell me you're ticklish here, too."
The sorcerer's face had to be completely red at this point. "I'm n-nohot!" he huffed, jerking his legs away. His heart skipped a beat when Herb grabbed them back and clawed gently at the tops of his thighs. "W-wahahahait! Thahat's nohot fahahahair!"
Herb giggled a little to himself, clearly enjoying this. He continued to work at the knots, but he would periodically pause to scribble at Licorice's sensitive legs, keeping the poor sorcerer in stitches. Though his laugh was much less loud here, his thighs were a worse spot than his stomach (and he was grateful for Herb remaining gentle this time). And even though it was quieter, his laugh was still humiliating. Thankfully, Dark Enchantress and Pomegranate had never seen him like this -- he didn’t know what he’d do if that happened.
"You're adorable," Herb murmured, not realizing he'd said it out loud. Licorice just about died, sputtering and staring at Herb indignantly. ADORABLE?! He was not adorable! How dare this random gardener call him that?!
"E-excuse you?!" he retorted. "I am not adorahahaAHAHA WAHAHIT WAHAIT NOHOHO!" The sorcerer was cut off by sudden clawing at his ribs, another one of his bad spots. "YOHOHOUHU--!"
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Herb asked nonchalantly, unable to hide his smile as he went up and down Licorice’s rib cage. He wiggled his fingers in the spaces in between the ribs, making Licorice throw his head back with laughter, and then he began to count from the top ribs down to the bottom, one by one. It drove the sorcerer absolutely mad.
“CUHUHUT TH-THAHAT OHOHOUT!” he whined, trying not to lose himself in the mirth. He couldn’t stand this! A random cute boy, whose garden he had fallen into, was somewhat trying to help him, smiling at him sweetly, and tickling him to the point of tears. Was he dreaming? That was the only possible explanation for something that was so humiliating.
“Oh, I will! And I’ll get you free pretty soon, don’t worry,” Herb said reassuringly, patting Licorice’s head with one hand and thoroughly confusing him. “But I’m enjoying myself right now -- it’s not every day that I get an adorable stranger tangled in my plants -- and you seem to be enjoying this yourself, too!”
What?! Impossible. There was no way that Licorice was enjoying this! It was far too demeaning to be likeable in any way...wasn’t it? It wasn’t like Licorice was...leaning into the touch, or...wishing it would never end...
It wasn’t often that he got much affection anymore. He got along with a few of his coworkers, his fellow servants of Dark Enchantress, but the others made his life increasingly difficult. He and Pomegranate didn’t talk to each other if they didn’t have to, and both of them were fine with that arrangement. And as for Enchantress herself, she was very...authoritarian. Licorice was devoted to her, yes, but that didn’t make her any less annoying when she assigned him stupid missions like this or repremanded him for little things. But that was fine -- she was an evil overlord, and that was her job. He was fine with that. He could live like that.
Right?
His thoughts were rudely interrupted as Herb brought his hands down, squeezing at Licorice’s sides and then at his hips. This made the sorcerer squeal and buck before breaking into an endless string of giggling. “W-wahahait! N-nohohot th-theheheherehee! Heheherb!”
Herb melted at the adorable tittering, and he was absolutely enamored with Licorice’s giddy smile and rose-colored blush. He continuously switched between squeezing and clawing for Licorice’s hips to keep the giggles coming, and his efforts rewarded him with a few snorts. “You’re so cute!~” he cooed, smiling down at the sorcerer (who whined at him in response).
“Nahahahat cuhuhute! Nohohoho! Ehehehehe!” Licorice forgot about struggling and began to worry only about hiding his face -- he was so embarrassed that he thought his heart was going to explode. Herb had discovered all three of his worst spots (right after the other, no less), and he was still tangled in those dumb vines that were keeping him there. He didn’t know what to do, and he’d given up fighting back his laughter, so he decided to just sit there and take it. It wasn’t like he minded much, anyhow.
“Well, I think you are!” Herb argued back with a smile, slowing to a stop. Licorice was starting to hiccup, and Herb didn’t want to go past his limit. Once he stopped, he let the sorcerer catch his breath and went back to working at the vines. There wasn’t much left -- just the ones around his arms now.
It didn’t take long for Herb to finally untangle the last few vines, and he slipped them off with ease. Licorice was still catching his breath with a few stray giggles escaping now and then, so the gardener ran off quickly to fetch a bottle of water. When he returned, Licorice was a bit more stable, and he took the bottle gratefully. He drank quite a bit before stopping and looking up at Herb.
“W-what...the hell...was that for?” he managed to ask. Herb smiled at him and patted his head again.
“Well, like I said, I don’t get many cute strangers around here anymore,” the gardener explained, earning a quiet embarrassed groan. “But also, I saw the way you were sulking earlier, all angry and mumbly. They say laughter’s the best medicine, so I thought I’d try to cheer you up while untangling you!”
Licorice was quiet for a few moments. Cheer him up? Why? Perhaps it was better not to ask and just accept it. He tugged his hood lower in one final effort to hide his shyness.
“T-thanks, or...whatever. Now can you give me some directions?” he asked impatiently. He wanted to complete his mission quickly.
“Oh, of course!” Herb stood up, helped Licorice to his feet, and then pointed off in the distance (which was the completely wrong direction, but once again, Licorice didn’t need to know that). “You’re gonna want to go that way, as far as you can reach. I’m not sure if the guy I’m thinking of is who you’re looking for, but that’s what I remember.”
The sorcerer rolled his eyes. “Alright. I’ll be on my way then.” He started to leave, then paused. “Maybe I’ll...see you again on my way back.”
Herb chuckled a bit. “Let’s hope you don’t get tangled up in my garden again if you come back. Safe travels!” He waved as Licorice began to leave, content, but also hoping that his friends would be safe.
Licorice walked onwards. He was still jittery from the encounter, and he was watching his footing a lot more closely now, but he was...oddly calmer. He was in less of a ranting mood, and he was much less tense than he had been earlier in the day. Maybe the encounter was a good thing for him -- but of course, he’d never admit that to anyone. He tried to get his head back in mission-mode, but it was hard when all he could think about was Herb’s teasing and that stupid, sweet smile of his. What gave him the right to be so cute, anyhow?!
The sorcerer sighed and continued to think on the matter. He likely wouldn’t be able to find this dumb Gingerbrave person, and even if he did, he’d likely fail in capturing him or getting any information -- he always failed, even when he tried his hardest. A crippling defeat would make Enchantress even more disappointed in him, and he already knew that he wouldn’t want to return to her for a couple of days. He’d need some way to relax, detense, unwind.
Maybe he would stumble into Herb’s garden again on his way back. On accident, of course. He wouldn’t mind.
TW: Mentions of death and grieving in author’s note. Skip if you are uncomfortable or sensitive to the topic.
(Hey, it’s been a while. So, shit happened in my life, and not only have I been super busy, but I’ve also been grieving the loss of a very close family member since early December. This is literally the first piece of fiction -- not just fics, actual writing -- that I’ve finished since everything happened. I’m still grieving as I go along, but I promise that I’m doing alright -- as best as I can, anyway. I wanted to write something fluffy and self-indulgent, so that’s why other WIPs, Tickletober, and requests have been taking so awful long. With that out of the way, here’s Warm Embrace, which I hope you enjoy!)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Fandom: Cookie Run: Ovenbreak/Kingdom
Ship: Werewolf x Vampire
Characters: Lee!Werewolf, Ler!Vampire
Words: 3067
Potential Warnings: Mild angst at the beginning, mouth tickles, mentions of alcohol
They said that opposites attract, but Vampire hadn't quite believed that until recently.
Everyone liked the idea of partners that were complete opposites from each other, but nobody wanted to be in that kind of a relationship. Every time that the opportunity arose, all people did was complain about how the person didn't understand them, or about how insufferable they were. All that talk about "opposites attract" suddenly faded into bitter words and heartbreak, and everything seemed to fall apart. Vampire had always scoffed at the mention of this trope, and when prompted, he would explain his disdain for the idea of it.
At least, until he fell in love with Werewolf.
The lycanthrope had entered his life at an interesting time -- Vampire had just started rekindling his bond with Alchemist, and he was being a bit more open with everyone else about his usual philosophical thoughts. He had been out for a moonlit stroll, using the time that he was awake to be somewhat productive, and he'd bumped into Werewolf in the middle of the night.
The poor man was…distressed, to say the least. When Vampire had found him, tears were streaming down his face, and he was shaking with a wild and frantic look in his eyes. His hair was a mess, and he was horribly scratched up -- from what, Vampire did not ever find out. He had been terrified of the undead at first, but with some gentle and reassuring prompting, Werewolf wound up following Vampire back to his place. Where he’d apparently expected aggression, he had instead been treated with hospitality, given a warm meal and a comfortable bed to sleep on. There he stayed for many nights, and Vampire eventually asked him to stay. Over the time they spent living together, their bond only grew stronger.
And then, slowly, Vampire started to realize that he was falling in love with the lycanthrope. It took him by surprise, but he accepted it very quickly -- he felt no shame, only nervousness. After some consideration, he confessed this discovery to Werewolf -- and thankfully, his feelings were shyly reciprocated. Perhaps “opposites attract” was true, Vampire considered, though he still doubted the truthfulness of it.
They were quite opposite, Vampire realized as he and Werewolf started dating. Vampire, despite being tired all the time, considered himself very outgoing and friendly to those that treated him well. He enjoyed life, and all of the things it had to offer. Werewolf, on the other hand, was known for having nightmares and bursts of aggression, as well as being incredibly reclusive. He rarely talked to anyone at all, even Vampire, and he was intimidating to boot.
Vampire never quite saw Werewolf as intimidating most of the time, but he would admit that his new boyfriend was concerningly quiet. He was trying to help him open up, as he felt it was his duty as a romantic partner, but it was proving to be difficult. Of course, Werewolf didn’t have to do anything that he was uncomfortable with -- Vampire perfectly understood the concept of introverts. It was just…Werewolf rarely talked at all about what he was thinking or feeling. It made him almost impossible to read.
As a result, the wine-loving undead began to shower his boyfriend with verbal and physical affection. It took Werewolf by surprise (he wasn’t expecting it, nor was he used to it), but he very quickly accepted the attention and allowed himself to relax at least a little around his partner. He still flinched sometimes at sudden touches, and he still refused to open up about his past, but it was a start. Vampire was making progress. He began spending his nights curled up with Werewolf in his bedroom, trying to help him feel loved and cared for.
On one of those nights, Werewolf was particularly soft -- Vampire felt almost proud of himself as he carded his fingers through his love’s hair. He was lying on his side next to Werewolf, who was facing him and had his face buried in the undead’s neck. The lycanthrope’s ears were twitching ever so slightly, and his breathing was so much more calm and even than it usually was around people. Vampire had one arm tucked underneath Werewolf so that he could hold the back of his head and play with his hair, and the other arm was draped over his boyfriend’s hip. The room was full of peaceful energy, and for a moment, Vampire considered falling asleep.
Werewolf flinched suddenly, interrupting the calm moment and startling Vampire. He didn’t lean away from his boyfriend, nor did he tense back up, but he did bury his face further into Vampire’s neck and grumble unintelligibly.
“A-are you okay?” Vampire asked nervously, looking over his boyfriend to make sure that he hadn’t hurt him by accident. He checked where his hands were -- neither of them were in bad spots, but he wanted to double check. “Did I make you uncomfortable, or--”
“‘M fine,” Werewolf grumbled, not elaborating. Vampire tried to think of what to ask him next, but then he noticed something odd.
Werewolf’s ears were slightly down, but not in the much more usual tense or aggressive position. They were more in an embarrassed state -- or loving, perhaps? His tail was twitching so slightly that it almost wasn’t noticeable, and his heart was beating somewhat faster. And there was a heat in the crook of Vampire’s neck -- was he blushing? What had he done to make Werewolf blush?
He looked at the positioning of his hands one more time. One hand still had its fingers in Werewolf’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp and twisting the ends gently like it was supposed to be. The other, however, had wandered a bit from Werewolf’s hip and edged near his tail, right where it met his lower back.
Vampire had a thought that came to him like a switch flicking in his head. Moving carefully, he tapped near the base of Werewolf’s tail to test his hypothesis -- and to his delight, Werewolf’s tail thumped on the bed as he grumbled with embarrassment.
“What are you doing?” the lycanthrope asked, just a little suspicious. Vampire bit back a grin and rubbed the back of his partner’s head.
"Oh, nothing," he answered unconvincingly. "Nothing at all."
Once Werewolf appeared to be less suspicious, Vampire moved the hand on his head down to his shoulders, giving him a gentle massage. When he was sure that his partner was fully relaxed, the undead lightly scratched at the base of Werewolf's tail. He wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea, and so he was prepared to stop at the drop of a hat.
Fortunately, he didn't have to -- his boyfriend's tail started wagging slowly, almost shyly. Werewolf shivered and huffed indignantly, but Vampire could feel a smile forming on his face.
"You alright there?~" Vampire asked, his question genuine despite the mischievous tone. He smiled and rubbed Werewolf's shoulders as the lycanthrope nodded.
"J-just, um…" Werewolf cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. "It...it t-tickles a little."
Vampire could not stop the awwing and cooing that came out of his mouth, nor could he stop his urge to gently scratch at Werewolf’s stomach that followed immediately after. Of course, he was light and slow -- he didn’t want to risk startling his boyfriend or making him uncomfortable at all. And yet, Werewolf did not twist away from him or object in the slightest. Much to Vampire’s delight, the lycanthrope even seemed to lean into the touch, his hidden smile growing wider.
“Vaha-- Vampire--” Werewolf huffed out, very obviously trying to stifle a laugh. Vampire flashed a toothy smile and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, continuing his gentle scratching that was slowly moving towards Werewolf’s sides. His nails lightly danced along Werewolf's skin, making him shudder at the sensation.
"Mmhmm?~" the undead hummed, his voice low and teasy as his hands found their target. Werewolf jolted slightly, surprised rather than frightened, and he clamped his arms to his sides in a half-protest. This did nothing to stop the ticklish feeling, but that wasn't his goal anyway.
"Mmnnhhehe-- Wh-whahat are you d-dohoing?--'' Werewolf managed to whisper through his growing giggles. Vampire's grin only widened, prompting a gentle forehead kiss.
"I'm tickling you, silly. What does it look like?"
The lycanthrope's face went a cute shade of carnation pink at the honest but affectionate statement. His tail began wagging faster, making a soft whump sound each time it hit the soft mattress. He wasn't completely laughing yet, but he was getting closer to doing so with each passing moment.
Vampire found the whole thing downright adorable. Slowly and delicately, his hands climbed their way up Werewolf's rib cage like a ladder, pausing every so often to go back down a few ribs and scribble gently at the spaces in between before continuing their ascent. This left Werewolf twitching back and forth, instinctively leaning away but wanting the affection enough to lean back in every time.
After about a minute of the game, the lycanthrope broke into husky but sweet-sounding laughter. Vampire quietly murmured, "There you go," before pressing another loving kiss onto Werewolf's forehead and lifting his mischievous fingers up towards his underarms. At this, Werewolf's laughter grew a little pitchy, and he buried himself further into Vampire's neck out of embarrassment for the sound of it.
"Are you still okay?" the wine-lover whispered to his boyfriend, his voice right in his ear. Werewolf's ear twitched and his giggles became frantic for a moment, then he nodded and wrapped his arms around his partner. This made for easier access to his underarms -- Vampire didn't know if this was intentional or not, but it was amusing and endearing all the same.
This continued for a little while until Vampire noticed that his boyfriend's breathing was getting a little fast and short. At this, he slowed down a bit and brought his hands all the way back to Werewolf's stomach. To his relief, the lycanthrope's breathing evened out (as much as it could as he laughed), and Vampire rubbed in between his shoulder blades in a rhythmic circle to help him calm down further. Werewolf was trembling a little, clearly unused to tickling and the emotions it brought up within him.
Vampire kissed Werewolf’s nose gently, still trailing his fingers along his boyfriend’s quivering stomach. He then decided to get a little more devious -- he carefully rolled Werewolf halfway onto his back, then began pressing feather-light kisses into his neck, jawline, and collarbone.
“Aha-- V-VahaHAmpire!” the lycanthrope tittered, the blush in his cheeks matching the shade of Vampire’s hair. The undead chuckled playfully, kissing closer to the back of his boyfriend’s neck to give him goosebumps.
“Yes, my love?~” Vampire purred in Werewolf’s ear, bringing his hands up to tickle his lower ribs. For good measure, he used his other hand to go for his partner’s upper back. Werewolf arched his spine in response, letting out something halfway between a squeal and a startled laugh. The wine-lover was very amused by this and moved his affectionate kissing to Werewolf’s cheeks -- his amusement only grew when he realized that his boyfriend’s cheeks were also apparently ticklish.
“I-Ihihi-- I-I neEHEehed to breheHeHAthe--!”
In an instant, Vampire’s hands were no longer gently scratching and were instead massaging where they were. The kisses were much less teasy and moved to different spots; one was planted on Werewolf’s nose, and the rest were slowly scattered across his forehead and scalp. The lycanthrope took a few seconds to catch his breath, let out a happy grumble, and leaned completely back into Vampire’s arms.
“Did I go too far? Too fast?” the undead asked, murmuring with a concerned tone. Werewolf shook his head and cuddled his partner close, wrapping his arms back around him.
“Noho, no, Ihi’m alright…” was his response. Vampire instantly felt relieved and smiled, planting another sweet kiss right between Werewolf’s eyebrows. He felt a sense of wonder wash over him -- he’d never seen Werewolf like this, and he wasn’t entirely sure if anyone had. His boyfriend, once so hostile and afraid, had trusted him in an intimate moment like this. Vampire was almost tearing up at the very notion of it.
After a quiet moment of lying in each other’s arms, Vampire cleared his throat. “Are you…are you done, or are you okay with just a little bit more? There’s one more thing I’d like to try, but I don’t want to overstimulate you or make you uncomfortable.”
The undead could feel the heat from his boyfriend’s face in his neck again. Werewolf’s tail, which had since calmed down and been in a resting position on the bed, began wagging with excitement and embarrassment. Vampire bit back a teasy, sarcastic remark and waited patiently for an answer -- though, he figured he already knew what it was.
“I-I’m okay with…w-with just a l-little bit more,” Werewolf sputtered, speaking quickly and almost slurring his words together. Vampire smiled softly, gave him one more kiss on the nose, and carefully scooted downwards on the bed.
The lycanthrope was naturally confused at first, as well as a little nervous. He wasn’t quite sure what Vampire was up to, and he was even more confused as his boyfriend stopped at his stomach.
“Didn’t you already--?” Werewolf began, tilting his head ever so slightly.
“I did,” Vampire interrupted, lifting his boyfriend’s shirt up, “but I wanted to try a different technique here and I didn’t get to it the first time.” He leaned in a little to Werewolf’s stomach, gently holding his sides in his hands, and looked up with a grin.
“Different technique?” Werewolf asked, the naive curiosity making him seem much more adorable than he would have liked to know.
“Mmhmm~” Vampire hummed, his tone casually playful. “Werewolf, darling, have you ever had raspberries?”
“RaspberRIEHEHEHES?!--” The lycanthrope didn’t even get a chance to finish his question before Vampire pressed his lips against the upper part of his stomach and blew. Werewolf was given a few seconds to recover before Vampire continued, blowing short raspberries all across his lower ribs, stomach, sides, and hips. Being undead, he had no need to breathe, so it was much easier for him to keep going.
“VAHAHAMPIHIHIREHE!” Werewolf shrieked, rolling onto his back from the shock of the electrical sensation. His hands waved around frantically, somewhere between grabbing Vampire’s shoulders, covering his stomach as instinctive protection, or covering his mouth to muffle his loud cackling.
“Yehehes?~” Vampire paused to ask, mocking Werewolf’s laugh. He didn’t wait for an answer before blowing another raspberry over his belly button. The lycanthrope yelped in surprise before falling back helplessly into his loud and uncontrollable mirth, now resigned to clutching onto the pillow that he was laying on as if for dear life.
Not wanting to accidentally kill his boyfriend, the undead attempted to make his raspberries less intense and paused in between them. Following this decision, each time that he blew a raspberry, he’d be rewarded with a hiccupy laugh that only seemed to pause for a second. He found this hilarious but didn’t say anything about it -- he wanted Werewolf to keep at least some dignity.
After about another minute, maybe less, Vampire felt a light swat on his shoulder. He stopped immediately, figuring that Werewolf couldn’t take anymore but wasn’t able to say it with the state that he was in. The wine-lover sat up on the bed, ready to ask if he’d accidentally gone too far -- but at the sight of Werewolf’s face, the words melted on his tongue.
The lycanthrope looked like a mess. His hair was wild and somewhat tangled, his eyes were glossed over and unfocused, and his cheeks were beet red. He was catching his breath, and there was a dazed smile still plastered onto his face. His tail was wagging, slowly but happily, his ears were skewed and slightly flattened, and all of his tension had apparently fallen away. Vampire found himself speechless and opted instead to scoot back up and lie down, pulling Werewolf into his arms once more. They both laid there for a while, Werewolf catching his breath and regaining his composure while his partner played gently with his hair.
“That was…” Werewolf began, breaking the silence before trailing off.
“Different?” The undead offered, smiling sweetly.
“Different,” Werewolf confirmed with a soft chuckle. “Not…not bad, though. It was nice.”
“I was afraid that I went a little overboard there with the raspberries,” Vampire admitted, squeezing his boyfriend a little bit tighter. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, though -- I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
Werewolf smiled at the final statement, almost flattered. “You didn’t go overboard, don’t worry,” he assured Vampire. “You stopped exactly when I needed you to.”
“That’s a relief to hear…” There was a pause in the conversation, and then a stray thought crossed the undead’s mind. “You know, if you ever want me to do that again, all you have to do is ask. I’d be more than willing to, if it makes you happy.”
Werewolf only responded with a whine before burying his face back into Vampire’s neck. “Awh, you poor, flustered thing!~” Vampire teased, rubbing the back of his boyfriend’s head and returning his other arm back to where it was originally -- draped over Werewolf’s hips.
Neither of them said anything else after that. Werewolf was too tired and too embarrassed to say much else, and Vampire was enjoying the peaceful moment. Werewolf was the first one to drift off, falling into a deep slumber that he would wake from feeling refreshed.
Vampire stayed awake for just a little bit longer, watching his sweetheart’s chest heave in a slow and steady tempo. The last thought that he had before succumbing to sleep was that he never wanted to leave the moment -- or, at least, he wanted to continue to have these sweet moments with Werewolf. He was warm, he was content, and he was at peace. It was all he’d ever wanted out of a relationship, and it was what the lycanthrope wanted as well. This was the closest feeling to heaven that either of them would reach.
Vampire was okay with that. As long as he had Werewolf, and as long as they had moments like this, he’d be the happiest undead in the world. Perhaps…opposites really do attract.
(Guess who got inspiration back!!! I literally finished, like, 3 small fics in a few days and they’re all about CROB oops-- I just finished this one about 2 minutes ago ((at the time of typing this)) and it’s my favorite so far, so please have it-- Enjoy! It’s completely self-indulgent fluff, but so are most of my fics, I hope you don’t mind.)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Fandom: Cookie Run: OvenBreak (could also apply to kingdom)
Ship: Lilayogurt (Lilac Cookie x Yogurt Cream Cookie)
Characters: Lee!Lilac, Ler!Yogurt Cream
Words: 1854
Potential Warnings: None
Yogurt Cream was an...interesting person to work for. For starters, he constantly went off to search for the world's most exquisite treasures, which often wound up being a wild goose chase. For another, he wasn't the least bit intimidated by any sort of stern, annoyed, or otherwise bitter expression on anyone's face. He was extroverted and jovial, even towards those who very obviously wanted him dead.
Lilac found it foolish, but also incredibly comforting in a way.
The bodyguard was known for being relatively neutral, showing no emotion as to guard himself on the job. His minimal reactions made him appear boring, but it was the mark of a great bodyguard...and a great assassin. It was for these reasons that he also tried to distance himself from Yogurt Cream. And yet, despite all of those efforts, Lilac's employer still treated him like a friend rather than a servant.
It complicated things.
Like today, for example -- Yogurt Cream, taking notice of the beautiful spring scenery, declared that the two of them should have a grand picnic outside in the palace garden. Lilac begrudgingly complied. He wasn't one to partake in relaxation, but if he had said no, Yogurt Cream would have demanded it anyway. Besides, his employer was wonderful company, even if Lilac would never say it out loud.
And so on that beautiful spring day, Yogurt Cream was lounging and eating delicious-looking sandwiches while Lilac stood rigidly beside him.
"You can come sit next to me, you know," Yogurt Cream said, stating the obvious. Lilac nodded and continued to stand anyway.
There was an awkward silence.
"Why are you always so stiff?" the former asked, breaking the tension. "You don't have to be -- I'm not going to judge you for showing a little emotion once in a while."
Silence again from the retainer.
"You know what? That's it, come here. Sit in front of me."
Lilac glanced at his employer, slightly confused, but complied immediately. He would never disobey an order. The bodyguard kept up his tense personality as Yogurt Cream ran his fingers through his short hair. The touch was...different. But it was nice.
"You need to relax -- today's a perfect day to enjoy ourselves," Yogurt Cream murmured. "That means you, too."
In his usual fashion, Lilac looked back at him with no response. He did not relax (it was near physically impossible for him to do so), but he did allow Yogurt Cream to do as he pleased. The merchant continued to play with Lilac's hair for a minute or two, then resorted to massaging his bodyguard's shoulders. That was different as well -- Lilac found himself actually resisting the urge to lie down.
Yogurt Cream wandered a bit too close to Lilac's neck, causing the latter to flinch and grab his employer's wrist, turning to face him. At first, his expression was stony and almost aggressive...but noticing Yogurt Cream's wide eyes, it morphed to be apologetic and ashamed. He let go and turned back around, not wanting to meet Yogurt Cream's gaze.
"Are...you okay?" his employer asked slowly. Lilac nodded, trying to calm himself with slow breaths.
"Can I...touch your neck again…? I just want to help you get used to it."
The bodyguard pondered the question for a few moments before nodding again. He inhaled deeply, bracing for the touch, and flinched as Yogurt Cream placed his hand on his neck gently.
This time though, Lilac's instincts didn't kick in. He sat patiently, letting his employer rub his fingers up and down slowly. For a little while, everything was just at peace.
Then the sensation grew lighter, which elicited a...strange feeling from the bodyguard. It was making him shiver, but it didn't feel bad, per se. Goosebumps formed on his arms, and he felt his cheeks get a little warm. After a couple more minutes, Yogurt Cream went up to his ear, and Lilac broke character by gasping.
Yogurt Cream jolted, stopping immediately. "Did that hurt? I'm sorry--"
Lilac cut his employer off by shaking his head quickly, visibly confused.
Both of them thought about it. It took a few seconds, but then Yogurt Cream developed a surprised, almost delighted look on his face.
"Are you...ticklish, Lilac?"
The assassin had no clue on how to answer. He looked back at Yogurt Cream, shrugging and slightly embarrassed (but trying not to show it).
"You don't know?" Yogurt Cream asked in disbelief. "Then...lie down here for me."
Lilac's stomach did a flip-flop. He obliged immediately, of course, but he did not know how to feel about it. After lying down on his back, looking up at his employer, he realized what exactly this meant for Yogurt Cream's image of him.
It was bound to happen eventually.
"Put your arms up and behind your head, please," the merchant commanded. Lilac did as requested, trying to keep his blush from surfacing. He was asked if he was "comfortable with this," and hesitated, not knowing how to feel at first. After going through everything in his head, he nodded -- he'd let Yogurt Cream amuse himself for now.
Yogurt Cream began by trailing his fingers along Lilac's abs almost delicately, as if the bodyguard were made of thin glass. The latter was taken aback a bit by the sensation, flinching and shivering ever so slightly. He wasn't sure if that was the desired reaction at first, but one look at Yogurt Cream's grinning face answered him. His employer's smile made him feel...comfortable. As though nothing were wrong. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be.
"I'm going to do something a bit different, okay?" the merchant asked, waiting for consent. Lilac nodded his head again, readier this time. He took a deep breath to ready himself -- and huffed out something that was almost a laugh as Yogurt Cream very lightly scribbled at his stomach.
"Oh wow, that's adorable!~" Yogurt Cream exclaimed softly, his fingers spidering over Lilac's torso with his nails barely making contact with skin. The bodyguard couldn't stifle his blush this time -- he wasn't adorable! Or at least, he didn't think he was! Then again, Yogurt Cream was known to find joy in even the dullest things, so maybe that was just him.
Then Lilac realized that a smile was starting to break through his exterior.
He didn't know what to do -- let it happen? But what would that do for his persona? On the other hand, if he forced it down or covered his face, he'd be defying his employer. It wouldn't have been a difficult decision if Yogurt Cream wasn't the one tickling him.
With that final thought, the reality of the situation hit him, and he suddenly couldn't stop himself from smiling.
Yogurt Cream noticed the shy expression immediately, as well as Lilac's relatively obvious struggle with it. "Oh my goodness…!~ You can smile, don't worry."
Can smile, sure. But should? Lilac looked at his employer, still confused.
"You know what, scratch the can. I order you to let yourself smile as long as you are comfortable."
With that, Lilac's inner torment melted away, and he allowed the uncharacteristic grin to show. He also began to lean into Yogurt Cream's touch -- the gentle tickling was new and unfamiliar, but it was almost...friendly, in a sense. He wasn't used to friendliness, either.
Yogurt Cream brought his teasing, spidering fingers down to Lilac’s hips, and that was when things really started to break for the bodyguard. He bucked his hips in surprise, almost twisting away and yet wanting to lean in at the same time, and his breathing quickened. The merchant continued, keeping his touch gentle and prepared to stop if need be, and then slowly...Lilac began to laugh.
It was a rough sound, faint and not frantic in any sense. It didn’t sound panicked or in pain, but it was definitely nervous and somewhat strained from having almost never happened before. It was incredibly quiet and scratchy as well, not wild or loudly clear like some.
Yogurt Cream thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
“I didn’t know you could laugh, Lilac!~” he exclaimed with a slight teasing lilt, making the assassin’s cheeks turn red. He traced circles with all five fingers on each hip, making his retainer whine with embarrassment.
“Ihihi d-didn’t k-knohow eheheither!”
The statement simultaneously broke and warmed Yogurt Cream’s heart. He’d heard Lilac speak before, on rare occasions, but it was usually only when the situation was dire or when he was comfortable enough. And when he did speak, it was either a warning (in the aforementioned dire situations), or it was something that was either sad or downright heartwarming. This was, in a way, both.
“Well, I really like your laugh, Lilac,” the merchant purred, moving to lie on top of Lilac as to gently pin him down. He brought his hands up to the bodyguard’s armpits, resulting in another gasp before more shy giggling. “Mind letting me hear more of it?”
Lilac, flustered more than he’d ever been and in a giggly daze, had no idea how to respond. He was barely managing to keep his arms up as instructed -- his underarms were more ticklish than he’d expected. Granted, so far every part of him had been more ticklish than expected.
Thankfully, Yogurt Cream seemed to have the same idea, and paused his teasing for a moment to gently bring Lilac’s arms down. “Here you go, this might be more comfortable. I’ll give you a moment to breathe.”
The assassin took that time gratefully, catching his breath and trying to recover while his head was spinning. He barely registered it when his employer cupped his cheek with one hand, and he couldn’t care less when he instinctively leaned into the affectionate touch. It was just him and Yogurt Cream, and that was all that mattered to him now.
“Are you okay?” the merchant asked, clearly amused and double-checking his bodyguard’s emotions. Lilac nodded, trying to say “yes” but barely managing to get the word out through his breathlessness. “Good, I wouldn’t want you to be upset…”
There was a long, peaceful moment, where Lilac learned how to breathe steadily again and let Yogurt Cream lie on top of him. Both of them were in a daze of sorts, one incredibly delighted by his discovery and enamored with the possibilities, and the other dizzied by his newfound “weakness.” Or perhaps it wasn’t new -- after all…
...Hadn’t Yogurt Cream always been his weakness?
“What do you say to Round Two?” his employer asked suddenly, his voice mischievous but gentle. Lilac blushed and nodded, trying to hide a faint smile.
Initially, Lilac hadn’t expected anything much from that spring afternoon, as most excursions with Yogurt Cream wound up either being dangerous or compromising his reputation. But this, with just the two of them, was so comforting and so appealing...he’d have to let it slide just this once. And maybe a few times more. It wasn’t like anyone else was there.
It was just the two of them. And that was all that mattered.
(It’s here, everyone!~ The Almondfort fic I’ve been teasing for a couple of weeks is finally being posted -- I’m really nervous about this one, because similar to The Monster, this one’s more intense. It’s less spooky, though. I hope you all enjoy it! I’m embarrassed to death about this one, I love Almondfort with all of my heart and I almost died rereading Roguefort’s teases-- Sorry to the Almond x Latte shippers, maybe I’ll write for them some day.)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Fandom: Cookie Run: Ovenbreak
Ship: Almondfort (Roguefort x Almond, romantic)
Characters: Lee!Almond, Ler!Roguefort
Words: 2219
Potential Warnings: SFW bonds, obligatory intensity warning, romance and flirtation (if that’s not your thing)
Almond Cookie was not one to be captured.
The detective was stoic, calculated, and downright grumpy at times. He was known for never resting until he felt the city was at peace for the day. He would chase down bad guys for hours on end, surviving solely on coffee and spite. And everyone knew that he chased after the Phantom Bleu every chance he got -- at least until he was called away for some other task.
Some members of the force thought he was a little too soft with Phantom Bleu, though. Oftentimes, the thief would easily escape, or slip away even after being caught, as if Almond was letting them go. But that didn't matter -- the detective was still clever and able to get out of tight situations.
That was what made this so humiliating.
You see, Almond had been on another one of his chases, going after the Phantom Bleu with an almost animalistic drive. The clues had led him to an underground bunker, which he would have called backup for if he didn't know the thief's behaviors and mysterious moral code. He'd heard them darting about the bunker, and he had foolishly taken out his handcuffs to try and capture the elusive trickster. All that had resulted in was him sitting in a chair, his shackled hands behind him, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair.
It was dark, with a single dim light near the exit, but Almond could still make out the faint figure of the Phantom Bleu, circling him curiously. He struggled, to no avail. Oh, well.
"Hello, Roguefort," he greeted with a defeated sigh. The thief stopped in front of him and leaned forward, flashing a toothy grin.
"Hello, detective~" they purred back, their voice low and full of mischief. The back of Almond's neck turned red.
"So, what's the plan for today?" the detective asked, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest. "Based on the way you're circling me, you're not just going to leave me here for the others to find this time."
Roguefort chuckled -- their laugh was almost akin to a fox's, full of lighter sounds and snickering. "Oh, no, of course not! I have great plans for you this time, detective."
Almond cleared his throat, masking his nervousness. "Oh, is that so? I suppose I'm just that entertaining."
"Mm, you're trying to be smug. It's cute, really." The thief crossed behind Almond, laying their arms over his shoulders in a sort of hug. His ears were red now.
The detective scoffed, smirking a little. "Well, Mx. Phantom Bleu, why don't you give me a kiss if you think I'm so cute?"
"Perhaps another time," Roguefort hummed, almost lamenting. "But trust me, you're going to get all sorts of attention today~"
Now Almond was a little concerned. "I'm not entirely sure what you're implying."
"Tell me, detective," Roguefort hummed, begging to tap their fingers thoughtfully on Almond's side, "do you remember our little excursion in the forest earlier this year?~"
The detective was now grateful for the darkness -- he had to be cherry red at this point. "H-how could I forget?" he managed to stammer out after a little while. "You were...incredibly persistent."
"Only because you were so stubborn," Roguefort teased back, pinching one of Almond's sides. "And now, I've got you riiiight where I want you~"
Almond jolted at the touch slightly -- he wouldn't be so reactive, but this was a bit different than the other sorts of torment he put up with. Plus, this was Roguefort. It was near impossible to resist their charm, even disregarding the detective's prior...relations with them.
"Ahand? You know I can take it," he retorted, resisting the urge to laugh as his ribs were repeatedly tweaked.
"Oh, can you?~" Roguefort whispered directly into Almond's ear. "I'll just have to tickle you until you break for me, then~"
The detective huffed in defiance, shutting both his eyes and his mouth in an effort to keep his composure. This was not easy for him, and the thief's teasing only made it that much more flustering -- and thus, much more unbearable. It didn't help that they already knew that he was deathly ticklish AND exactly where to strike.
"Aw, struggling already?~ You're so sensitive, I almost don't know what to do with you~" The playful statement was reinforced with two hands scribbling at Almond's sides, making him snort.
"Sh-shahaddup!" he protested, barely succeeding in choking back a stream of laughter.
"Hmmm, no~" Roguefort responded simply, clearly enjoying themselves. "Since I'm not gonna be quiet no matter what, would you like to know what I'm going to do to you?"
"Doho NOT," Almond countered, though it came out as more of a whine than intended.
"Well, first, I'm going to continue tickling your sensitive sides here, since you seem to enjoy that very much--"
"H-huhush!" the flustered detective interrupted, kicking his leg a little bit out of both frustration and embarrassment (it didn't budge much, but it was the thought that counted). Roguefort burst out laughing at the response.
"Ohoho my goohohodness!" they giggled, faltering for a moment. "Yohohou are sohoho pouty--"
Almond, having received a pause in his torment, caught his breath and glared at the thief. "I'm not pouty."
Trying to calm down, Roguefort wiped their eyes and smirked back. "Thehehen why the kicking?~"
"Um." The detective thought for a moment, then looked away when he had no response.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Roguefort taunted, moving in front of their captive this time. They sat on his legs as best they could, facing him sideways with a Cheshire grin. "How about a new position this time?~"
Almond gulped, a nervous look on his face. "A-and what, exactly, is your next move?"
"Oh, so now you care," the thief chuckled, moving Almond's coat out of the way so they could reach his stomach. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Things are never obvious with you."
Roguefort smiled simply. "Of course, darling. Silly me. I should keep you guessing, shouldn't I? Make you use that clever brain of yours~"
Almond's eyes went a little wide -- it'd be harder for him to stay calm like that. "W-wait, that's not what I--"
"Thank you for the tip, detective!~ I'll keep your preferences in mind~" Roguefort purred, redirecting and clawing mercilessly at Almond's thighs before he had a chance to protest.
That did the trick -- the detective squawked in surprise before breaking into a loud, embarrassed stream of laughter. If he'd just kept his mouth shut, Roguefort would have attacked his stomach first, and he could've held out for at least another twenty minutes. But no, he just had to be cocky. The thief brought something out of him, no doubt about that. And it wasn't just laughter or reddened cheeks (though that was something they both clearly enjoyed).
"My goodness, you're so cute!~" Roguefort remarked, relishing in their victory. "Oh, right, I have to keep you guessing-- Alright, what about here?" they asked, squeezing Almond's sides and making him jolt. "Ooorrr here?" This time, quick and sporadic tickling to the underarms. "Oooh!~ What about this spot?~" they teased, spidering along the detective's ribs. The resulting cackling was music to the Phantom Bleu's ears.
"Stahahap ihihit! Rohohoguefohohort!" Almond protested, his face painted with an impressive blush. The quick, unpredictable movements were almost too much for him to handle.
Almost.
"Awww!~ Why should I?~ Don't you like it when I tease you?~" the thief cooed, gently tickling Almond under the chin before tormenting his sides again.
"Yehehes, buhuhut--!" Almond began before stopping mid-sentence and trying to hide in his coat collar.
"What was that?" Dammit, Roguefort heard him.
"Nahahathihihing!"
"Nothing?" the thief mused, scribbling over Almond's stomach. "Nothing?~ Come on, you really think I'm going to believe that? Say it again~"
The detective shook his head defiantly, trying to clamp his mouth shut but unable to in his current state.
"Do I have to make you?~"
Almond nodded again, somehow confidently.
"Fine, suit yourself!~" Roguefort chirped, shoving their hands up Almond's button-down shirt and immediately attacking his ribs.
Now, had it been anywhere else, Almond would have been fine. Even his thighs again or his back (which couldn't be reached) would not have been a problem. But unfortunately for him, his ribs were his worst spot, especially sensitive to the spidery, clawing sort of tickling. And double unfortunately (or perhaps not), the mischief-making thief knew that.
Nerves now properly on fire, Almond bucked his hips and threw his head backwards, laughing loudly enough that it even startled Roguefort for a moment. He twisted against his restraints, not out of dismay mind you, but in the simple instinct to lean away from the incredibly ticklish feeling.
"NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! ROHOHOGUEFOHORT!" the detective gasped out through his cackling. The thief giggled a little in response, not slowing their onslaught.
"Say it again and I'll sto-ooop!~" Roguefort taunted in a sing-songy voice. They let Almond writhe for a bit longer before dragging their nails up to where the ribcage met the armpits. "Here, is this better?" they asked with mock innocence.
Oh, that bastard-- Almond's laughter went up several octaves as he jerked at the touch, swearing a bit and trying not to meet the thief's devilish gaze. "NOHOHO, YOHOU JEHEHEHERK!"
"Come on, say iiit~"
"I-I WOHOHON'T-- STAHAHAHAPPIT!"
Roguefort began to take even more note of Almond's breathing and tone, just in case. "It's not that hard, darling~ Come onnn~" They slowed their tickling into dragging their nails up and down his ribs gently. It was much softer and less aggressive, but it didn't do much to stop Almond's cackling.
"ENOHOHOUGH! PLEHEHEAHASE!"
"Say it, sweetheart~"
"FIHIHINEEE!"
Roguefort brought their hands out of Almond's shirt, stopping and rubbing his head gently while letting him breathe. The detective gripped the chair, looking down and trying to stop a wave of stray giggles. He leaned into the thief's affectionate touch, heaving a bit but recovering quickly.
"Was that too much?" Roguefort asked, all mischief gone from their voice for a second. Almond shook his head, and they sighed with relief. "Good. You okay?" Another nod.
After a few moments of peace and recovery, Roguefort lifted up Almond's chin, meeting his gaze. The smug, playful look returned to their face. "Go on, then~"
"I-I...ugh," the detective huffed, looking away as best he could. "I d-do like it when you...t-tease...me."
"There you go," the thief hummed, kissing Almond's forehead softly. "Was that so hard?"
"God, yes," Almond stated gruffly, making Roguefort laugh a little. His blush was toning down, but his face was still a light shade of red. "Don't ever make me say that again."
"No promises~" Roguefort sang, cupping Almond's cheek. "Now, I'm going to untie you and take off those handcuffs -- don't turn on me, or I'll tickle you again."
"No promises," Almond echoed with a smirk, rolling his eyes. "I'll get you back one of these days."
"You always say that," the thief tsked playfully, removing Almond's restraints. Once finished, they helped him stand, pulling him into a loving embrace.
"Mmph, you're warm," Almond mumbled, sinking into the thief's arms. He was rewarded with a quiet chuckle and a back rub.
"Well, I'm afraid I can't stay -- your little detective friend is probably close to finding us by now." Roguefort paused, thinking. "Would you be up for this again sometime?~"
"Pick a more romantic location, and you've got yourself a deal," Almond responded, only half-joking. "You go ahead and get out of here, I'll catch up to you again soon."
"Hah, you wish," Roguefort taunted, kissing Almond's nose for good measure. "Have fun with your boring law stuff, I've got mansions to rob. Adieu!~ And with that farewell, the Phantom Bleu disappeared into a puff of smoke.
The tired detective sighed, retrieving his handcuffs and walking upstairs as he tucked them into his coat pocket. When he opened the door leading outside, he was greeted by a very anxious Walnut.
"Ohmigosh, Almond!" she exclaimed, hugging her coworker so tightly that he wondered how someone so tiny could be so strong. "Are you okay?! What happened?! Did you find the Phantom Bleu?!"
"Relax, Walnut," he stated calmly, patting her head. "I'm fine. Just another dead end. I'm tired though, let's go get some coffee."
"Finneee… you have GOT to be more careful, okay? I was worried!" Almond chuckled at her indignance.
"I know, I know, it's alright," he soothed, walking with her at his side. As the tiny detective continued to berate him, he thought about what had just happened.
His relationship with Roguefort was...confusing, to say the least. The two were at least friendly with each other, more than a detective and criminal should be. And yet, the two didn't exactly behave like friends. This wasn't just because of their work lives though -- Roguefort was incredibly flirtatious, and though Almond could deny these affections at any time, he strangely didn't want to. Being old friends didn't help.
Was it something more? Perhaps. Almond was a bit too consistently stoic to really figure it out, in contrast with most problems he was presented with. He didn't quite know what kind of relationship they had.
All he knew was that it was exciting, and he liked it that way.
(You remember the other CROB fanfics I was talking about? Here’s one of them! It’s short, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but it’s here and I’m posting it because I can. More to come, hopefully!)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Bonbon was starting to think that moving in with her biggest rival was a mistake.
Now, there was nothing really wrong with Sour Belt -- she was generally friendly to just about everyone she met, and there was no denying that she was both a wonderful marketer and very skilled in her field of work, despite what Bonbon thought of her...interesting fashion sense.
Unfortunately, both their styles of fashion design and their behaviors didn’t quite mix.
While both were known for overworking themselves, Bonbon always started with a plan. No matter how hectic her schedule got, she always completed everything in order, as it was meant to be, knowing exactly how her clothes were going to turn out in the end. Sour Belt, on the other hand, grabbed some rolls of material that looked good together and started cutting. She made things up as she went, seemingly not caring about the delicate nature of fashion design. And somehow, by sheer luck, her clothes turned out to be as successful as Choc’au Latte’s brand. It was frustrating, to say the least.
Today, Bonbon was working on a furry jacket. She’d already cut out all of the pieces from a soft, white roll of fur (faux fur, naturally), and she was using her sewing machine to carefully stitch the larger seams together. She had a checklist right next to her on her desk, and after the bulk was finished, she would hand stitch a majority of the embellishments. It was meant to be an accent jacket, coupled with a black linen dress that she had already finished a week prior. Just on the other side of the room, Sour Belt was also working -- her desk was messy and full of stray threads, and she had multiple zany-colored swatches pinned to the wall “for reference.” She was making...something. Her workspace was in such disarray that Bonbon couldn’t even see what she was sewing together.
After what could have either been five minutes or an hour, Bonbon heard her rival stand up and get away from her workspace. Great. Another aggravating thing about Sour Belt was that she eventually grew bored while working. This wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t result in her tormenting Bonbon to get rid of that boredom.
“Heyyy,” the young designer called out, stepping over to Bonbon. “What’cha doin’?”
“Sewing,” the other answered flatly, trying to focus on her jacket. She often refused to give any more details -- her rival didn’t seem like the type to steal ideas or designs, but one could never be too careful in the fashion industry.
Sour Belt frowned. “Well, I can see that. You’re always sewing.”
“And you’re always interrupting me for your own reasons.”
There was a huff, and Bonbon tried to hide a smirk. She finished sewing the bulk of her jacket together, as planned, and set it aside before turning off her sewing machine. She stood up and draped it onto the mannequin displaying the complementary dress. It was beautiful, but it definitely needed some detailing.
“Don’t ignore me, Bonbonnnn,” Sour Belt whined, and the other designer jolted as a pair of arms wrapped around her. She was used to Sour Belt getting a little physical, and it didn’t make her uncomfortable in the slightest, but it almost always startled her initially.
“I’m not ignoring you,” she stated calmly. “I’m doing my work.”
“Well, be done with your work and talk to me!” Sour Belt pouted, jabbing Bonbon in the ribs. The street-fashion designer was planning to keep annoying her rival until something interesting happened -- she could talk for hours.
When the classical stylist flinched, however, there was a pause.
“...Sour Belt.”
“Yeah, Bonbon?”
“Get your hand off of me.”
There was a low chuckle, followed by another, gentler jab to the ribs. “Y’know, I don’t think I will. Am I hurting you at all?”
Bonbon inhaled deeply, debating between lying or taking the fall. She decided on the latter. “No, but I--”
“So you’re ticklish then,” Sour Belt interrupted, smirking in a way that gave Bonbon some very mixed emotions. She tried to maintain a straight face, not letting her embarrassment show.
“That’s not what I said. You’re just assuming things at this point.” She knew that it wasn’t going to work -- Sour Belt was stubborn -- but it was worth a shot if it meant saving her pride. She could be equally as stubborn if she wanted to be. For a few moments, Sour Belt continued to poke her in the ribs and side, and Bonbon continued to maintain the illusion of apathy. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep it up, but she was going to try.
Then, without much warning, both hands were shoved into Bonbon’s armpits, and the classical designer shrieked before bursting into laughter.
“A-ha! I knew it!” Sour Belt shouted triumphantly, scribbling at Bonbon’s underarms with a gleeful and toothy smile on her face. She seemed to be absolutely delighted at the sight of her rival’s serious demeanor shattering.
Bonbon, on the other hand, was trying in vain to regain some form of elegance. She covered her mouth to hide her smile, but it did nothing to muffle her laughter. Her face was flushed cherry red, and her knees were growing weak -- she eventually sank to the ground slowly. Sour Belt followed her, pulling her competitor into her arms and sporadically clawing at Bonbon’s now-exposed stomach.
“Uhuhunhahahand mehehehe!” Bonbon protested as though she weren’t leaning into her rival’s arms. Sour Belt simply laughed along with her, switching quickly between Bonbon’s entire torso and tickling every little sensitive spot that she could reach.
“Why should I? You seem to be enjoying it -- you’re laughing, aren’t you?~”
Bonbon groaned through her mirth and tried to cover her face with both of her hands. She brought them down with a squeal as Sour Belt began gently pinching up and down her ribs. “N-nahahat-- Nohohoho!”
“Aww, look at that! Your face is so redddd!~”
This was humiliating. Not bad, per say, and Bonbon wasn’t angry at all, but she was certainly embarrassed beyond belief. “S-shuhuhut uhuhup!” she demanded, saying something much more brash than her usual polite demeanor. “Ihii’ll gehet you f-for thihihis!”
“Heh, I’d like to see you try~” Sour Belt taunted, going back to spidering along her rival’s stomach. She soaked in the victory, listening to sweet and beautiful laughter...and then had a rude awakening as she was shoved back and pinned down. “W-wh-- Hey!!!”
Sour Belt’s frustration was forgotten almost immediately -- Bonbon was on top of her, pinning her and staring down with dark red eyes. Her face was still painted a lovely (and adorable) shade of scarlet, and she was out of breath. Sour Belt found her own cheeks growing warm.
“U-um...what’re you up to?” the street-fashion designer asked with a gulp. Her rival did not answer. She simply leaned in towards Sour Belt’s neck slowly, filling the room with a sweet kind of tension that neither of them could really put into words. Sour Belt closed her eyes, bracing for a soft sensation and letting herself relax.
And then the tension was broken as Bonbon simultaneously squeezed her sides and blew a raspberry onto her neck.
“AhahaHAHA! WAHAHAIT!” Sour Belt cackled, squirming and playfully pushing against Bonbon’s shoulders. The classical designer continued her onslaught of squeezing and raspberries, leaving her rival in absolute stitches. “NAHAHAT THAHAHAT!”
Bonbon paused for a moment. “Not that?” she asked teasingly. “But you did it to me. I told you I would get you back for it -- what seems to be the problem?” Taking advantage of Sour Belt’s fashion sense for once, Bonbon moved down a little bit and blew another raspberry, this time onto Sour Belt’s stomach (which was exposed, since the seamstress wore crop tops constantly). This resulted in a yelp and more entertainingly loud laughter. Bonbon did not intend to let this humiliation slide anytime soon, nor did she intend to let Sour Belt go until she was tired or uncomfortable with the situation. She was going to have her revenge to the fullest.
Perhaps moving in with her rival wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
(Hello, I’m back again with another CROB fic! I’m not as proud of this one, because it’s the first one that I wrote while dragging myself out of writer’s block -- but I think it’s alright to post, so here we are! The Almondfort one might be next~ Oh, and while it’s not a promise, I know a lot of people are posting Tickletober late, and I will be doing the same thing whenever I get around to writing them. Enjoy!)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Potential Warnings: Nothing other than Hydrangea is both afraid of and a simp for Lotus.
Hydrangea Cookie had been called on again. It was obvious to everyone in the Lotus Palace -- she had dropped what she had been doing and rushed down the long hallways, towards Lotus Dragon Cookie’s chamber. The faint notes of the dragon’s mandolin echoed throughout the palace, and the rest of the servants looked on. Some were jealous, while some were oddly relieved -- dealing with the dragon’s every command was both a blessing and a curse.
“You asked to see me, Great Dragon?” Hydrangea asked while entering, slightly out of breath. The dragon’s vibrant gaze almost pierced her heart.
“Yes,” they answered, lingering on the word for just a moment. “I want you to speak with me.”
Hydrangea sighed. Lotus was always waiting on her for the simplest of things, making her do paperwork and dance to amuse her. The floral cookie loved her job, but...it was tiring. She approached, but did not dare to get too close. The dragon was powerful, and though they were not as aggressive as their counterparts, they were very proud and could be easily slighted.
“Of course, Great Dragon. Whatever you ask of me,” she hummed, leaning against the wall (she was likely going to be there for a while).
“Thank you,” Lotus responded, gently strumming their mandolin. “How has your day been for you?”
Horrible. Tedious. Slow. “It has been wonderful thus far.”
“And your work?”
Infuriating. “The same as it always is.”
“How have the other servants been treating you?”
Like snobs. “Obediently.”
“And why do you think you can lie to me?”
Hydrangea choked on her breath, looking at the dragon in mild horror. They were staring down at her with narrowed eyes and a thin smile. For a moment, the cookie considered running for her life -- then remembered that she could talk her way out of this. She was too valuable and too loved for the dragon to kill her. She’d be okay.
Wouldn’t she?
“I...am sorry, Great Dragon,” Hydrangea began delicately. “I did not mean to insult you. I simply thought you might be...unsatisfied...with my honest answers.”
In one quick moment, Lotus Dragon was in front of her. The quiet cookie gasped, covering her mouth with her fan and staying where she was. The dragon was unpredictable -- had she offended them somehow, even with her explanation? Or was it something else? She braced for impact as Lotus reached out for her arm.
“Hydrangea…”
The cookie looked up again as she was calmly brought closer.
“My darling Hydrangea...you need not lie to me,” Lotus whispered, using their other hand to gently touch Hydrangea’s face. Their voice had hints of frustration, but was oddly...warm. “I asked about how you were doing and being treated. Any dissatisfaction I find in your answers will not be your fault.”
Hydrangea found herself blushing. “Thank you, Great Dragon.”
“You are welcome,” the Blue Dragon murmured. “Is there any way that I may bring some light back into your day?”
Something crossed Hydrangea’s mind for sure, but she’d be damned if she mentioned it to Lotus. She tried desperately to think of an answer before she had to go back to going through her gigantic pile of scrolls. “I...I am not sure.”
“I don’t want to send you back unsatisfied,” the dragon lamented, trailing their fingers down Hydrangea’s jawline. “There must be something I--” Something interrupted them. Something that the cookie was hoping they wouldn’t notice. They gently traced their thumb in a circle, right where Hydrangea’s jaw met her neck.
And the dragon was rewarded with a crooked smile.
“Oh?” they mused, a slight lilt in their voice. The floral cookie went into a flustered panic.
“M-my dragon, I--”
“Hush,” Lotus interrupted, pulling Hydrangea into their arms, “and let me play with you.”
Hydrangea’s blush came back about ten times stronger than before. She opened her mouth to ask one of her many questions, but she wound up squeaking instead as her ruler began to tease the back of her neck.
“How amusing,” Lotus hummed, smiling a little. “I shall continue this for a while -- unless, of course, you wish for me to stop?”
Well, that was a difficult question to answer. Hydrangea stammered for a moment, unable to quell her own embarrassment for long enough to speak clearly. “i-I, well…” She averted her gaze. “W-what if I...wish for you to c-continue…?”
The dragon chuckled softly, holding Hydrangea close. “Then I will grant that wish.”
The cookie hid her face in Lotus’ chest as the latter resumed, starting by gently tickling under her chin before going down to her stomach. Hydrangea was not used to mirth, nor to being so open in front of her ruler, and so she was in a predicament -- she was unsure of whether to cover her face and her shy smile, or whether to let her dragon see. She wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding, anyway.
“I-I-- Ehehehe! G-Greheheat Drahagon!”
“Yes?” Lotus prompted, still lightly tickling Hydrangea’s stomach with a content look on their face.
“Ihihi--” Hydrangea tried to respond, but could not speak through her tittering. Pent-up reactions from over the years were now spilling out through a stream of giggles.
“You cookies and your simple pleasures,” the dragon said with a smile. “So small and sensitive -- it’s quite adorable, really.”
Hydrangea could not stop the embarrassed whine that escaped her lips. “Lohohotuhus!”
The dragon stopped. “What was that?”
Hydrangea was suddenly filled with dread -- she didn’t mean to address her ruler so informally, it was just an honest slip of the tongue. She looked into the eyes of Lotus Dragon -- and thankfully, only seemed to find mischief.
“...M-my apologies. It was an a-accident.”
“Was it now?” the dragon purred, leaning in a little bit. “Regardless, I still think you deserve some punishment for your transgressions.”
The cookie shivered, somewhere between nervous and excited. “W-what kind of punishment?”
Lotus didn’t answer verbally -- they simply went straight for Hydrangea’s ribs and stomach. The floral cookie downright squealed, which was something she was not known to do, and burst into sudden and bright peals of laughter.
“Ahahahaha! I-I’m sohohoryyy!” She kicked her legs a little, squirming and yet leaning into the sensation. The dragon only laughed along with her, tickling her ribs as they might pluck the strings of their precious mandolin.
“My goodness, I don’t think you’ve ever shown such emotion to me before,” they murmured, keeping Hydrangea close to their chest. “I shall do this more often -- next time you appear to be annoyed, perhaps? This should put a smile on your face then, too.”
Hydrangea buried her face in her hands, flustered and trying desperately to hide her blush from Lotus. The dragon’s honest and yet sweet teasing was absolutely killing her, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. All she could do was laugh, filled with embarrassment and mirth.
Eventually, Lotus grew tired of using their hands so much, and Hydrangea was tired from all of her laughing and squirming. The dragon sank to the ground, cradling their assistant and almost rocking her to let her calm down. Neither of them knew how long had passed, but it didn’t matter at this point -- they were both just lost in the moment.
“T-thank you,” Hydrangea whispered as soon as she had caught her breath. Lotus nodded. It was strange to see the dragon so enamored and calm at the same time, but it was a beautiful sight. The cookie didn’t want to forget it, and she didn’t want the peace to come to an end.
“Of course, my darling Hydrangea. Whatever you wish.”
