Summary: Early morning thoughts wander as you reminisce your time being Corbeau’s partner. You make the discovery that he has beautifully drawn yakuza tattoos on his back. Intrigued, you trace the bold lines with your fingers. You study them, and also find something else that’s new about your partner…
Author’s Notes: I busted this fic out in a day… and then spent a week thinking of what to title it. :,) Isn’t that the writer’s way!! To be fair, I’ve had a lot going on in life at the moment, so I made this fic to celebrate! Enjoy domestic Corbeau x Reader, with added Pokémon and tickles! The idea spawned from a mixture of regular headcanons/Corbeau thoughts as I was browsing tumblr. Sometimes it helps browsing non-tickle content because it gives you the opportunity to insert tickles into it. >:)
Words: ~2,700 | AO3 Link
The delicate yet warm sunlight filtered through the curtains of your and Corbeau’s apartment, bathing the bedroom in its glow. It was early morning, a bit of the crisp spring air to combat the shine of the sun. You shifted in your cozy blankets, a yawn escaping you. Your gaze rolled to the left of you — Corbeau was still asleep.
Sharing a bed with the big honcho of a feared syndicate? How did that happen?
Well…
You had been intertwined in Corbeau’s life since you had a fateful encounter one night during the Infinite Royale. You were a mighty strong trainer, however that one night you and your team got a thrashing more than you'd like to admit. You had run into an alleyway to escape the piercing gaze of other trainers itching to battle, a desperate attempt to heal your Pokemon as well as yourself. You had a couple cuts and bruises — these weren't foreign to you.
However, you got hit with the area of effect of another trainer’s Pokemon attack a bit too close for comfort and that is what caused you to run away and hide. You were feeling dizzy, and the small task of grabbing whatever potions and status condition sprays for your affected Pokemon from your satchel instead felt like you were trying to traverse across Paldea’s massive crater with no assistance. Your vision began to blank, so you carefully hobbled to the nearest bench to sit down.
That's when someone came out of the shadows — someone who, at first, looked like a menacing trainer. How did another trainer find you? This alleyway was deserted a minute ago!
The figure approached, a large Pokemon behind them, though you couldn't tell exactly what it was through the darkness and your brain fog.
You stood up and put on the bravest face you could muster, preparing for a fight that might result in you passing out.
But they didn't do anything — until they dashed towards you once they noticed that your legs were giving out from beneath you, the world feeling like it was falling and breaking apart. All you remember was falling into strong arms, a nice scent hitting your nose, and your head slumping against their shoulder.
When you finally came to, you were laying on a stranger’s couch, your partner Dedenne curled up asleep at your side. Your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, reaching a hand up to touch your forehead. A damp compress was pressed against the skin. Your eyes focused on the new environment, following the ceiling and walls until they laid eyes on someone you didn't know.
That man — who you'd later know as Corbeau — was asleep on a purple arm chair, suit jacket draped over his form, snoring softly. A Scolipede was curled up on a plush bed next to him, claw marks on the wooden floor.
Noticing the bandages on your arms and realised; he saved you.
And from that day forward, you were joined at the hip.
You got to know each other. You learned he was the head of a syndicate in Lumiose City, hosted in a building you had walked past many times before but never took much more notice than a passing glance. Corbeau thought that would scare you off initially, he had mentioned that when you woke up that first morning. But it had quite the opposite effect; it just made you gravitate towards him even more. A man who’s kind yet had a dangerous side? You were practically in love already.
And wouldn't you know it? He started falling for you, too.
It took quite a long time for both of you to become an item; Corbeau feared for your safety, being with someone like him. While the syndicate itself wasn't dangerous technically, they've had many close calls with unruly individuals and clients.
At first, he didn't want you to be seen with him in case even your presence made yourself a bargaining chip for some awful person to take advantage of. But you reassured him you could hold your own, and that he was sweet for caring so much for your wellbeing. And the few times where you had to witness something bad happening but managed to push past it, proved yourself even more to him.
And so, you both became official, the talk of the town inside the syndicate walls. Corbeau wasn't one to display his love out for the public to see, and you weren't either, save for any formal parties you were both invited to. It was the syndicate's little secret.
You reminisced, sliding out of your shared bed, immediately toeing your slippers that you left at your bedside onto your feet. Your body needed a good stretch!
You glanced at Corbeau’s Scolipede sleeping on it’s comfy purple bed, and your Dedenne curled into its side. They had both become close friends from their time together, the sight brought a smile to your face.
Eyes wandering to Corbeau, the man was still asleep, snoring softly. A sound you loved and never got sick of.
You were both usually early risers — eager to get through the day so that you could decompress and chill at night without any lingering duties. But today was Sunday, so you figured Corbeau deserved a good sleep-in. You would have loved to join him, but your mind was wide awake now. Quietly creeping out of the room so no one woke up, you went to go and prepare a nice breakfast in the kitchen, ready to be cooked once Corbeau woke from his slumber.
But an hour passed, and then another… Corbeau was still asleep.
You wandered back into the bedroom, Corbeau in the same state you left him; peacefully asleep, an arm draped over his eyes, purple hair tousled.
Surely he couldn't just sleep the day away, and you knew in the back of your mind, he'd feel awful if he got to miss so much of the day he could've spent awake with you. You figured you'd give waking him up a go.
Perching yourself on the edge of the bed, your hand reached out to card your fingers through his messy hair, then slipped down to his shoulder to give it a gentle shake.
“Wake up, my love.” You drawled, your words like sweet honey.
His eyebrow twitched at your call. Letting out a soft groan, his arm slipped off his face, body rolling over onto his side.
“Mmm…” A hum came from his throat. He wasn't awake quite yet.
Your fingers moved from shoulder to the base of his neck, tracing the skin and feeling the goosebumps form. “As much as I’d love to lay in bed all day with you, I think I'd feel lazy if I did,” you leaned down to whisper into his ear. “Are you ready to get up? I've got everything ready for a wonderful breakfast.” You tried to entice him with the promise of food.
His shoulder scrunched up from your warm breath hitting the skin on his ear. He rolled again, opting to lay on his stomach in his sleepy state. The blanket shifted, tangling him slightly, dragging down his form. Some of his yakuza tattoos kept hidden on his back began to peek through.
You had never seen Corbeau’s tattoos in great detail. You only ever saw them in dim lighting, or tiny slivers if he unbuttoned the very top of his dress shirt, or if you managed to catch him dressing to start his day. Never have you had the opportunity to see them like this, all for your wandering eyes to explore.
Pulling the blanket back a tad more, you could see the sprawling artwork that covered the entire expanse of his back and a fair bit of his arms just before his wrists. You could spot some familiar details — the face and hood pattern of his Arbok, the blue scales of his Gyrados in honour of his previous mentor, the red and blue flower petals of his Roserade, and the purple and grey with a touch of magenta segments and horns of his Scolipede. The different elements representing his Pokemon were all tied together with black and grey lines and patterns.
It was beautiful. Intricate.
Not only were you looking with your eyes; but at this point your hands as well. Fingers trailed and grazed along the artwork, gliding across his soft skin as if it were butter. From his shoulder blades, down to his spine, resting on his lower back where the waistband of his pyjama bottoms began.
Your hands explored the expanse of space, until Corbeau shifted and you heard an unfamiliar noise.
“Mmm… hehehe…”
Did he just giggle? In his sleep??
And after you heard that supposed noise, Corbeau began to stir and wake up.
“...hmm?” Corbeau hummed, morning voice croaky. He sat up on his elbows, craning his head in your direction. A smile tugged at his lips at the sight of you. “Good morning, darling.”
“Were you giggling in your sleep, Corbeau?”
He eyed you, cautious with his answer. “I'm not sure… was I?” A genuine question with a tilt of his head.
“You were, I was looking at your back tattoo and tracing my fingers along it…” Voice trailing off, your brain put two and two together. You had a devious look on your face — one he didn't notice as his trusty pair of glasses were still on his nightstand. “Are you perhaps… ticklish, Corbeau?”
A bead of nervous sweat formed on his forehead. “O-Of course not, that would be ridiculous,” he laid his arms back out, head resting against the pillow. He made a swift attempt to change the subject. “In any case… let me have just five more minutes?”
That was less of a question and more of a statement, his eyes drifting closed. You gasped in fake disbelief.
“Back to sleep, after I've been longing to spend my Sunday with you? Not a chance, ‘Beau.” Your hand that laid on his lower back sprang into action, fingers walking up his spine until they reached their destination at the back of his neck. You could feel even more goosebumps prickling his skin.
Your fingers scribbled lightly at his neck, and those familiar sounding giggles reached your ears. You smirked, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“I think you're lying~”
Hand moving down to trace his shoulder blades and tattoo lines, even more giggles could be heard from the sleepy man. He didn't try to fight back or roll away, he took it in stride.
“You’ll hahahave to try harder thahahan thahahat!” He says this, yet he wasn't holding his own terribly well. He buried his face in the pillow, muffling his boyish giggles.
Your heart thumped at the absolutely adorable sight before you, he was just too sweet. Wandering hands reached for the side of his ribs, and that's when his voice raised an octave.
“Wahahahait!!” Corbeau rolled over, hands outstretched to make contact with your wrist, but you were much too fast for him.
As if you were holding a Quick Claw, your Extreme Speed and nimble fingers darted down to his lower tummy, just above his waist line and below his belly button.
If he wasn't wide awake before, he certainly was now.
Corbeau cackled.
“AAAHAHAHA!!” Corbeau usually didn't laugh, so this was a welcomed sound. Music to your ears. You giggled from his reaction.
His head was thrown back, nestling into his soft pillow, hair becoming even more of a mess than it already was. This time, he managed to reach out and grab hold of your wrists, though curiously, he didn't shove your hands out of the way…
“So, what do you think? Your lazy butt will get out of bed, and we'll have breakfast. I assume you'll accept?” You were cutting him a great deal here.
To your surprise, he didn't answer the way you thought he would, not exactly.
Sharp claws scraping against the wooden flooring could be heard from behind the bed. You heard it, and so did Corbeau. Time for a counter attack!
“SCOLIPEHEHEDE! H-HELP!!”
Scolipede awoke from its slumber thanks to all the noise both of you were making, and hearing its trainer’s plea for help, sprang into action.
With swift movements, it rose from its comfy bed, making way to your direction. It came up to your side. You curiously gazed at it, fingers still prodding Corbeau’s tummy, until Scolipede wormed its head under your chin. It began to gently shove you off the bed, nuzzling you along the way.
To your surprise, the nuzzling really, really tickled.
“Scolihihipede! Nohoho!!” But your words were all for naught — the large centipede Pokemon pushed you gently into the corner of the room with its tickly attack. Scolipede’s attack was super effective, to the point where your knees wobbled and it brought you crashing down to the floor. It found that using its horns very gently on your tummy is a critical hit. Laughter bubbled from deep within your chest. “I-IT TIHIHICKLES!! CORBEAU!!” Arm outstretched, you called for help.
A devilish, intoxicating smirk on his face — which was a bit hard to see as tears of mirth began budding in the corners of your eyes — Corbeau plucked his glasses from his nightstand and perched them on his nose, pushing them up with a finger. He rose from the bed, waltzing over to the corner of the room where you were being rudely targeted.
He crouched down onto his knees and took in the sight with a laugh. “All’s fair in love and war. I don't think you've quite learnt your lesson yet,” Scolipede hit a particularly ticklish spot on your tummy with its horns, causing you to kick out your leg, a slipper flying off and nearly hitting Corbeau. When he saw this, a lightbulb shone brightly in his mind. “Thanks for the idea.”
Corbeau grabbed onto your ankle, fingers touching down and tickling your bare foot. Scolipede’s targeted attack continued. Combining these both together… you squealed.
Your laughter was explosive and contagious. Corbeau chuckled alongside your loud laughter, and Scolipede chirped happily. Even your Dedenne woke up from the ruckus and cheered from the sidelines. Scolipede poked and prodded at wherever it could reach regardless of your thrashing, and Corbeau’s precise fingers proceeded to worm their way under your toes.
“NOHOHOHOHAHAHA!!” It tickled so bad! Hand slamming on the ground and slapping the wooden floor, you signaled your surrender.
Corbeau released your foot from his downright evil clutches and whistled to his Scolipede, which immediately stopped its lighthearted assault. Both perpetrators backed up to give you space.
Your legs curled up to protect your body, lungs expanded to suck in as much air as they could after it was all ripped out and stolen from you. Your back rested against the wall, residual giggles pouring out of you.
Corbeau gave you a smile, one of warmth that melted your heart, one that was sweet enough to maybe forgive him for his tickly attack — though, you deserved it.
Standing up straight, his hand of offering reached out towards you. “We’re clearly both wide awake now. Shall we go have breakfast?”
You sucked in a breath, an attempt at calming your racing heart as you took his offer, dragging yourself up to your feet. You stood up a little bit too fast, your chests bumping. You both paused for a moment, then giggles erupted and smiles grew wide.
Resting a hand on his chest, your eyes took the full view of where his tattoos wrapped from his back to the front of his pecs, the head of his Arbok and Scolipede imprinted with bold lines.
Your finger traced the skin, a huff of a chuckle leaving your love’s nose. “So, when we're you going to tell me about these?”
A warm arm wrapped around your side, a hand resting upon your waist. “How about I tell you all about them over our meal?” He leaned and planted a kiss on your forehead.
Nodding in agreement, both Corbeau and you as well as your Pokemon sauntered out of the room. The sun was shining brightly, awaiting your arrival in the kitchen.
oops sorry my hand slipped for that last ask teehee pls ignore!!
ahem hello friend congrats on your 1200 followers, i cannot wait to see your blog grow even more and reach 12000 followers for your next milestone ✨
for my request that we didn’t already talk about privately may i ask for the coveted corbeau yaoi (lee!corbeau ler!paxton) that everyone has been yearning for? for my idea, maybe you can write about corbeau’s time at hotel z. maybe corbeau is an especially demanding guest which the hotel is not equipped to handle because the hotel doesn’t have official staff and is being run by young adults and a 3000 year old man and corbeau is specifically requesting paxton fulfill his requests which is annoying but better not piss off the mafia boss that you’re still indebted to. anyway, one of corbeau’s requests is a special spa treatment so paxton has to use poke-gpt bc he doesn’t know what tf he’s doing and runs out to get random supplies and im sure you know where this is going (tickly massage) and just read the rest of our dms okok now get to work 🔫 (pls and thank you, congrats again friend ✨)
hi friend
im giving you this second chance to redeem yourself just because you praised me. im not so sure who this "everyone" is as this is the first time im reading about paxton and corbeau, but they look good enough i suppose! i tried to think of something that we didnt come up with beforehand ofc, so i hope this suffices. there is no refund if it doesnt, im sorry
"T-this way, please!" Paxton gestured, bowing slightly as Corbeau passed him by. He could hear a soft scoff coming from the other man and felt a shiver running down his spine, cursing his friend for that irresponsible debt.
He was tired. For the whole day, Paxton did nothing but run errands and take orders from Corbeau. From "teaching lessons" to troublesome pokemon to serving Corbeau at the hotel, all because of that huge loan. To make things worse, Corbeau wasn't exactly someone easy to please. His demands weren't exactly unreasonable, but were surely too high for Hotel Z and Paxton's standards.
He closed the door behind him, checking on his phones for the search results again. 'How to do a massage', 'full-body massage tutorial in 2 minutes', 'relaxation methods that look expensive but are really easy to do'. Paxton scrolled through them again, trying to digest all the content in a blink of an eye.
"Is something wrong, Paxton?" Corbeau called, already sat in the totally-not-improvised spa bed, and Paxton nearly dropped the device, startled. "You look tense," Corbeau smirked.
"O-of course not!" He lied and quickly scurried closer to Corbeau, ushering him to lay down on his stomach. "It was— ahm, Taunie, yes. She sent me a message, but it's nothing important. You, as our guest, come first!"
Corbeau arched an eyebrow, but didn't resist the gentle pushing. With a little preparation, this whole thing was almost starting to look like the real deal. Paxton lit up two sticks of incense and watched as Corbeau placed his glasses on top of the neatly folded robe next to the bed. The man then laid back down, his arms crossed beneath his head, giving Paxton a full view of all the tattoos painted over his back.
Paxton sighed and inhaled deeply, trying to relax a bit himself. This spa-thing had to work or they would have some serious problems with the syndicate. He just needed to be good enough to convince Corbeau. Right, just convince Corbeau.
"I-I'm starting, ok? Let me know if it hurts or if you feel any discomfort—"
"Don't worry about it," Corbeau hummed, throwing Paxton a glance over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes with a glint of playfulness, as if amused by the current attempt of impress him. "I'm sure I can take it."
"Right…" Paxton nodded, placing his thumbs between Corbeau shoulders, rubbing small circles before sliding his hands down. His fingers gently dug into the back of Corbeau's ribs, trying to mimic the motion he saw earlier on the videos.
Paxton watched as the muscles seemed to tense and react under his touch, but not exactly in the way he expected them to. He pressed a little harder, his hands drifting closer to Corbeau's sides, and—
"Ah!"
"I-I'm sorry!" Paxton gasped, freezing on spot as Corbeau nearly jumped off the table, "d-did it hurt? I—"
"Y-yohou— agh, it tihihickles!" Corbeau groaned and Paxton blinked, confused. He looked down at his hands, then finally up to Corbeau's face. He was… smiling? And, wait, was that a blush?!
"This is, ahem, part of our services! I-if it tickles, it means it's working," he insisted, pushing Corbeau back down onto the bed and stopping him from getting up. Paxton's fingers continued the 'massage', digging into Corbeau's sides and making the man writhe with renewed laughter. "T-trust me, you'll feel like new when we are done!" 'Or, at least, too tired to request something else', Paxton added inside his head
Summary: Philippe gives you a bit of intel on how to break through Corbeau’s Iron Defence… it’s silly, but it just might work.
Author’s Notes: Hallooooo! Life has been a little crazy lately (resigned from my current job) BUT I’ve made some time to put this together. Thank you to the lovely anon for the prompt. 💚 This can kind of be a soft sequel to Patience Wearing Thin but you can read this fic without prior knowledge. :) LET’S WRECK OUR FAVOURITE FELLA. Fun fact: I used “built like a brick shithouse” to describe Philippe in this fic initially, but figured a lot of people wouldn’t know what that meant, so I took it out. 😭
Words: ~2,400 | AO3 Link
Another Rogue Mega Evolving Pokemon calmed!
With the help of your teammate Naveen, who had already left, you had freed another wild Pokemon suffering from the more common Rogue Mega Evolution problem. There were more reports of it occurring lately, which only motivated you to help Pokemon whenever you could even more than before.
But first, a short break.
Not long after you had sat down on the rooftop, can of soda in hand, you heard footsteps behind you.
At first, you thought it was Naveen coming back. Maybe he forgot something.
“Naveen! What's—”
Whipping your head around with a wide, beaming smile, your body stiffened when you realised the person approaching you wasn't actually Naveen.
It was Philippe.
Your face froze and your words were caught in your throat. You weren't too sure why Philippe was here – or how he even found you.
He obviously saw the concern displayed all over your face. A lopsided smile formed on his lips to try to melt the ice freezing you, waving his hands up.
“I'm not here to do anything – I just saw the commotion from the street. You handle yourself well, I see why the boss likes you so much.”
Your face softened.
Time passed as you two spoke. Philippe looked like a big scary guy, but like Corbeau, appearances aren't everything. You both moved to a bench on the rooftop to sit and talk. He even brought you another can of soda – Corbeau had informed Philippe of your favourite.
Philippe was giving you details about the history and past of the Rust Syndicate, as you were curious how things ran before Corbeau took the commitment of sitting in the boss’ chair with Philippe’s insistence.
“So, you were the head honcho before, huh?” You took a sip from your drink. “It's hard to imagine that Corbeau hasn't been there since the beginning, despite having such a young face. Young or not, he's a bit terrifying.” You finished your comment with a laugh, though it didn't ease you very much.
“He’s really not that intimidating, even though he talks and acts that way,” Philippe paused in thought for a moment, reminiscing about his past experiences with Corbeau when he first joined the Rust Syndicate, until a particular flashback hit him. A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Actually, he's not such a tough guy after all. I know his weakness.”
Philippe’s gaze turned to you, a bit shocked at the sight.
Your eyes were sparkling, a wide smile stretched across your face, leaning forward in utmost concentration and excitement. “You gotta tell me!” Anything to mess with Corbeau a little bit now and then to soften his tough guy persona.
Philippe was a bit reluctant at first, but a smirk rose to his face. “Alright, I'll tell you…” his voice was low as he whispered.
When the words hit your ears and your brain processed it, you had a down-right evil grin on your face. “Oh, that's great.” Giggles resonating from inside your chest, you jumped up from your seat. “We gotta try this!!”
You were surprised when Philippe offered to help you. So, you both moseyed back to the syndicate building, as you were going to see Corbeau later today anyway as planned. He would never suspect a thing!
You and Corbeau were chatting at his desk – he actually brought a chair over so you could sit with him, he enjoyed your company that much – as he was doing some boring paperwork, munching on and sharing some Lumiose Galletes he had one of his grunts buy for your meet up today.
It was the usual conversations – chatting about Lumiose, how great of a city it was, how the Rogue Mega Evolution problem was going, if Hotel Z was getting any other guests. Philippe was in the room as well, as he usually was, but today was for a special purpose.
Corbeau mentioned that while on an outing earlier today to watch over his grunts, some kids had approached him in childlike awe at the sight of his Scolipede.
“That's adorable, Corbeau.” Your expression softened as he finished recounting, however, he shook his head with an exasperated sigh.
“It's good and all, but it was in public view. I don't want people thinking the boss of the Rust Syndicate is a big old softie.”
“You act all tough, y’know. But you don't have to put that front on all the time.”
“Pfft,” he scoffed. “I don't act tough, that's just who I am.”
“Is that so?” You leaned in curiously.
“Yes,” his gaze turned to you. “You don't become a boss of a syndicate being soft. A boss cannot look like they have any weaknesses.”
“So you're saying you don't have a weakness? At all?” You quizzed. You already knew what he was going to say.
“No, I don't have a weakness,” he raised an eyebrow. “You seem very interested in this conversation, more than usual. What's your deal?”
He was being very direct, but that was how he always was. He was onto you.
You blinked, quiet, then spoke up. A giddy, yet nervous look on your face and inflection in your voice. “Deal? Nothing, nothing at all.”
You were never a good liar, and Corbeau had seen many people lie to his face during his time. He definitely caught on now, though no alarm bells were ringing. It was you, after all.
Your eyes gazed at Philippe, him looking back with a small nod, then your focus turned back to Corbeau.
Corbeau’s eyes narrowed, an attempt to draw the information out of you. “It's obviously something. Out with it.”
You smiled knowingly, not being able to hide it anymore. “I know your weakness.”
…
He certainly paused, though not in the way you were bargaining for. He rolled his eyes, turning back to his paperwork. “I don't have one, like I said. This is silly.”
“I know what else is silly.”
“And what would that be?” He humoured you, though not paying any close attention. His guard was down.
“This.” Your hand reached out, wiggling fingers latched right on his side.
He didn't know what hit him.
“Ahagh!” A choked laugh, his knee hitting the desk upon jumped reflex. His hand hastily covered his mouth, a blush beginning to dust his cheeks. His head slowly - agonisingly slow - turned to you.
You had a wicked grin on your face.
Uh oh.
In an instant, Corbeau made an attempt to jump out of his chair to make a run for it. Your hands reached out to grab something - any of him. You missed his wrist, and only just missed the corner of his suit jacket. He was going to get away! Or so you thought.
However, a certain strong, box-like man came in clutch.
Philippe was expecting this – and so, went into action. Corbeau tried to slip past him, but Philippe was faster, even if he didn't look like it. Reflexes like a cat, he grabbed onto Corbeau, wrangling him against his chest, raising Corbeau’s arms and locking them against his own with a snug grip.
Corbeau hadn't even realised what had happened at first, things moved so fast. One moment he was in motion running away to keep his secrets hidden – the next he was in Philippe’s clutches as if he were an unruly client with a massive loan on their shoulders. He froze and blinked for a moment. Corbeau made an attempt at trying to struggle himself free, a few audible grunts rising from his chest, but it was no use. He knew that much.
He was calm at first, resigned to his fate, until he noticed you approaching, a downright evil smile on your face. In a way, your smile was weirdly comforting to Corbeau, but at the same time, he couldn't stop the sweat from collecting on his brow.
He ceased his struggling, a smile on his lips. A smile to persuade you. “You’ve had your fun — at my expense, mind you — surely you don't have to test this further, right?”
You weren't falling for it.
Flexing your fingers in preparation, you flashed a smirk. “You think I'll let this go? Being able to reduce the head of a syndicate to a puddle? You bet I'm going to test this out.”
His characteristic frown framed his face. He turned his head to look at Phillipe. “Did you spill this to them?” He gave his arms another experimental tug — he was not going anywhere anytime soon, Philippe wouldn't budge.
Philippe nodded in response, his own lopsided smile on his face. “Gotta have a bit of fun sometimes, boss.”
Corbeau flashed a glare at the bigger man, and then turned his head to give that glare to you.
“You’ll regret this, you know.” Was he threatening you right now?
You would not falter. “Big talk for someone in your position.”
And that's when your eager fingers dove in, going for his sides first. Corbeau instantly chomped down on his lip, keeping any unruly noises at bay. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of breaking so easily – it was the syndicate way.
Your fingers shifted through his suit jacket to reach the bottom of his ribs, plucking the bones through his shirt. That got a couple good spasms and kicks out of him. But no laughter was coming from him yet.
“You know it's bad to hold it in, right?” You asked smugly. You looked into his eyes, a deadly smile on your face. His eyes locked onto yours, but then squeezed shut, not daring to look at you otherwise he'd burst into giggles right there. He didn't verbally respond, just shaking his head.
But that all changed when scribbly fingers reached under his arms.
The big, scary boss finally broke.
Giggles began pouring out of him, rosy cheeks on display behind his round glasses. You audibly aww’d at the sight, and you swear his cheeks grew even more flushed.
“There we go! Isn't that better?” You teased with a giggle, though yours was much more quiet than Corbeau’s right now.
“Nohoho! Of c-course nohohot!” Corbeau couldn't even get a sentence out without giggling.
Which was made even worse when your hands moved their wiggling from under his arms back down to his ribs and sides. Now that the dam had broken, he couldn't hold back anymore. Spots that didn't make him laugh before definitely did now.
Your curious hands moved to his hip bones, thumbs beginning to toggle them. Corbeau threw his head back against Phillipe’s chest, laughter being torn from him.
“NOHOHOT THERE!!”
“Wow, begging? From Corbeau of all people? Who would have known you'd be capable of that?”
Corbeau shook his head from your teasing, the blush on his face only burning brighter.
You noticed he didn't put up much of a fight or protest as much as you thought he would. He didn't tug on his arms nearly as much as you'd imagine he would — Philippe didn't have to even break a sweat.
You smirked.
Philippe piped up, raising his voice slightly so it could be heard over Corbeau’s laughter. “Go for his neck. It's bad there.”
Your hands ceased at Philippe’s words, giving Corbeau a moment of reprieve. It also gave Corbeau an opportunity to play the scary card again.
Glasses crooked, face flushed, he mustered up his best glare — which was not convincing at all, by the way. “I will tack on such a big debt over your head, that you'll be paying me back for life. Do you really want that?”
You shrugged with a smile. “You're not really scary when you're looking like this,” you motioned your arms in his general direction. You took a step closer to him. “And besides, I think you're actually having fun with this whole thing.” You booped the tip of his nose with his finger.
He couldn't look at you in the eyes, averting his gaze, his blush only growing worse. “And where did you get that idea from?”
You pointed to Philippe, dobbing him in immediately. Philippe chuckled.
Corbeau let out a sigh. “You can think all you want – I won't admit anything like that until the day I die.”
“You don't have to! I already know.” You gave your sweetest smile.
Corbeau’s eyes widened at your response. “You sneaky litt– EEP!”
He didn't get the chance to finish his threat because your nimble fingers already beat him to the punch — moving to graze the sides and back of his neck. He let out another squeak from your nails dragging on the skin. And then fresh, new laughter poured from his lips.
Your hands bounced from tickling one side of his neck to the other, his head bobbing around. As he began to get much more squeaky and look more visually tired, you let up, Philippe releasing him from his hold. He slumped forward for a moment, almost losing balance as an after effect of all the tickles he endured, but stood up straight. You beamed a smile at him, patting him on the shoulder to signal that you were done.
Corbeau looked at your face, attempting to force an unimpressed frown, but a smile was still glued to his lips. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, a sly way to cover the blush that still hadn't died down on his face. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone, got it?”
“Of course!” You gave the fastest – and nervous – nod you’ve ever given someone.
Philippe wandered back over to his usual post, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile.
Corbeau moved to sit back at his desk, plopping down in the comfy chair. A sigh left him, contemplating his next words. “And if you tip anyone off that I liked any of this whole little ordeal, I will get you back tenfold.”
A bead of sweat formed on your forehead, skin turning pale for just a moment. “U-Understood!”
Of course, you knew he meant no ill intentions. He was happy to play along, just to see you smile. Even if it was at the cost of not seeming as scary as everyone else does who cannot see into the walls of the Rust Syndicate building.
