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theatregaymer · 17 days

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Stirrups (NSFW)

In which drinking and stirrup leggings don't go together.

I think this version of Bakugo and Kirishima diverges a bit from how I'd normally write them, it's somewhere between what I usually do and the impression of the characters I get from @wigglywormy's posts.

WARNING: This is very horny and very kinky.

Words: 3,810 (why)

"Wait I need to... the key... sex with the keyhole..." slurred Bakugo from over Kirishima's shoulder, a drunk hero carrying another drunk hero home.

"You're so wasted," guffawed Kirishima as Bakugo missed the keyhole for the third time.

"Fuck off," groaned the blond hero. "Shitty Hair, this isn't... my house."

"What are you... oh shit yeah, it's mine."

"You're wasted," huffed Bakugo before grunting as Kirishima shifted his weight on his shoulder as he reached for his own keys. The blond was far too gone to linger on how embarrassing or hot it was that a bare-chested Kirishima could carry him up several flights of stairs no sweat. Maybe it would have been hotter if he sweated. Chest and abs all glistening, spraying a fire house between his legs...

"Eyes on the fire, you sexy moron," mumbled Bakugo befor ehe could stop himself, though thankfully for his tomorrow self, Kirishima couldn't hear him over the door unlocking.

Kirishima walked into the apartment, kicked off his boots, and rummaged in the dark with his foot for his slippers before finally making his way to the couch, dropping his and Bakugo's duffel bags at the foot of it, and finally collapsing on the couch with the drunk hero.

"Hey, get your fat ass off me!" protested Bakugo as he felt Kirishima's weight on top of him.

"This ass is pristine," retorted Kirishima as he got up, "You take off those boots or you're cleaning the couch tomorrow."

"You do it," said Bakugo with a shit-eating grin that Kirishima wasn't able to make out in the dark apartment, but he sure could hear it, and he could feel the rubber sole pressing into his stomach.

"You are a spoiled child, you know that," grunted Kirishima as he reflexively began to work the boot's laces.

Bakugo gave him one of his shit-eating grins as he proceeded to take off his mask and bracers while Kirishima knelt down to remove his footwear.

"That's a good place for you," teased Bakugo as Kirishima pulled off his other boot.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Neither moved for a moment. Then, Kirishima clutched Bakugo's left ankle tight and scribbled his fingers into the socked sole.

Bakugo's shit-eating grin morphed into something else - something partially resembling panic - when the sensation moved up his slowed nervous system, his foot jerking free from Kirishima's grasp with unexpected violence. "Don't-!"

Kirishima said nothing, withstanding Bakugo's wary look as he was suddenly perched on the couch, the offended foot lying flat against the cushions.

Kirishima smirked. Stood up. Turned to the side... and less than 3 seconds later, the hardened hero had wrestled his drunk friend into submission, sitting down on his shins so the socked feet would protrude from the edge of the couch, fully immobile.

"Don't you fucking dare Kirishima, I'll kill you!" threatened Bakugo, hitting Kirishima's hardened back. There was nothing he could do to stop what was about to befall him. "I'll fucking murder you in your sl-!"

He abruptly fell silent when he felt Kirishima's fingers pull at the stirrup crossing his arch, right above his heel.

"You have stirrups! I didn't know you had stirrups," rambled Kirishima as he let the elastic fabric snap back against the white sock.

"Kirishima, if you don't get your ass up right now...!"

But Kirishima wasn't listening. He pinched the other stirrup, making sure his nails would graze the cotton as he did. He could feel the tension in Bakugo's leg muscles, under him.

"Oooooooh? Is somebody tiiiiiiicklish? Is somebody a wee biiit tiiiiiiiiiicklish?"

"Stop that right fucking NOW!!"

"You gotta answer, or..." he threatened, stirrup still pinched between his thumb and index finger, their nails scraping at the white sock.

Bakugo roared powerlessly, trying to buck Kirishima off even as he knew it was useless. He would not be able to pull his legs free from his vise-like grip, either. He couldn't punch him. He was at the redhead's mercy for as long as he wanted.

But even drunk as a skunk, he wasn't going down that easily.

"You're gonna do it anyway. So fuck off with that shit."

Kirishima turned around so he could see him. "Good point."

And then there were five fingers scribbling all over the socked soles.

Kirishims had expected Bakugo to seize up at his touches, and to cuss him out; he did not expect him to clench his mouth shut and start convulsing, the occasional grunt slipping through his teeth. "That bad, uh?" teased the ecstatic redhead. Oh, this was going to be a blast and a half.

Five fingers. Five fucking fingers. Practically four, as the thumb wasn't doing much. Over his socks. And Bakugo was feeling them so fucking much. Was it because he was drunk? Was it because it was Kirishima?

The redhead couldn't decide what made him happier, if Bakugo's groans as he attempted to choke back his laughter, or the way he could feel him flopping disgracefully under him. And he was just scratching blindly with a single hand. "Dude, for real?"

"DON'T-!" snarled Bakugo, already flushed with the effort to keep his natural reactions at bay.

"Don't what?"

"D-don't tease mehe!" he commanded, attempting to sound authoritative and failing spectacularly.

Kirishima was enjoying himself too much for it to be legal. He felt no shame, had no inhibitions. All of him was united in wanting to crack Bakugo. "And what if I do, uh? You're gonna laugh the neighbors awake? Pee yourself?"

Bakugo roared, again, faced with the irreconcilability of hating what the redhead was doing, and being completely unable to stop - or take - it.

And since Kirishima was going full gremlin, he chose that precise moment to bring his other hand into play.

Mid-roar, Bakugo spluttered for a moment, like an anime character who couldn't wrap his head around being stabbed by a friend, before his wrathful exhalation took on a far more mirthful tone.

Bakugo's face turned into a fire nation balloon as he fought the inevitable.

Kirishima was still hitting spots at random, but there were other buttons that he knew to push. "Oooh, you're cracking, lookit dat smile, you're cracking..."

"I'M NOOOOOHOHOHohohohohohhahahahahahahahahaha!!!"

Too easy.

The genie was out of the bottle, and Bakugo regretted everything. Falling for Kirishima's childish ruse like the goddamnest moron, not playing along with his equally childish games to stall for time, putting himself in such a precarious position because he just had to be a brat... God, it tickled too much to beat himself up about it. If he tried to cover one foot with the other, then one of them had Kirishima's undivided attention; if he scrunched his soles, those fingers would still be there when he couldn't keep it up anymore. Ticklish buckshot, everywhere, random, frenzied.

"Fuhuhuhuhuack yohohouhuhuu!!!! Stahahahhahaap!!! Hahahahahahahaah hahaaha hahahahaha!!"

Kirishima was committed. He had been wanting to do that for a long while, he'd often wondered how ticklish Bakugo was and where, and he was going to leave no question unanswered.

His touches grew more focused as he resolved to discover how best to break him. Targeting one spot on both feet at a time, he set out to explore, an adventurer guided by the stars of Bakugo's increasing or diminishing laughter and thrashing. But much like observing the cosmos in the daytime is a doomed endeavor, Kirishima was quickly growing sick of the spongy layer of protection around Bakugo's feet.

"Heeeey, I think I'm gonna take off your socks. Can't tell how ticklish you are with these on, right?"

As he looked over his shoulder, he was met with the sight of Bakugo holding on to the back of the couch for dear life, his shoulders shaking with mirth he couldn't repress, but he pathetically tried to scowl from under the arm draped across his face to hide his embarrassment.

"But seeeeee, these stirrups are kind of in the way," he explained, punctuating his observation by sliding his index and middle fingers under the stirrups and scratching at the center of his arches, earning a disgruntled hiccup. "So I could rip them off..."

"Dohohon't youuhuhu fuhuhuhuckin dhahahahah-- AHAH! Eehehehehnouuhuhuhgh!!! Hahahahaha!!!"

"Sheesh, I'm talking, wait a second! Jeez. Ok, so your pants are coming off."

"WHAHAHT?!?!?!"

"You do it or I do it."

"Kirishimaha I'll fuhucking kihi-STOHOP TIHICKLIHING MIHIY FEHEHET YOHOUHUHU FREHEHEHAK!!!"

"Oh, should I go somewhere else? Your ribs, perhaps?"

No matter what, he was getting Bakugo to strip. And as an added incentive, he activated his Quirk, the socks suddenly offering little protection against the points at the tip of Kirishima's fingers.

The spasm that ran up Bakugo's leg and his renewed attempt to hold in his laughter - a slowly deflating balloon - told the redhead everything he needed to know.

"You know what you gotta do if you want a breather!"

He was actually sing-songing, that fucker.

The points struck again, right at the center of the ball of Bakugo's feet, prompting him to slam his palm into Kirishima's back and set off an explosion... that did not cause the sensation to abate for a single instant.

He didn't need to hear the redhead to know that he was tutting. "Think you can take this longer than I can hold my Quirk? Come on, look at you."

He then used both hands on a single foot, the one covering the other.

"Sstohohop shihithehahaha! Juhuhust stohohohohohoop!!"

Bakugo needed a break. Between the alcohol and the workout, he'd been sweating bullets, which made him even more ticklish. And more than that, he needed Kirishima to shut up. But he never would have done it if he hadn't been too drunk to realize--

"Ohohohohkahahaahy!!! Fuhuhuahhahacking stohahahhahp, I'll dohohoho ihihHIHIT!!"

Kirishima stopped. Not to honor their agreement, but because he would have never expected Bakugo to go for it. He just wanted an excuse to keep tickling him when he proposed it... probably? Well, maybe seeing Bakugo do anything because he was just too sensitive not to was also the teensiest bit incredibly hot.

He watched as Bakugo, a scowl printed on his hysterics-crinkled face, arched his back, lifting his butt off the couch, and began to shimmy as he pulled his pants down to his knees.

"You gotta get up," grunted Bakugo, since Kirishima was still seated on his shins.

"Nice try," retorted the redhead as he carefully shifted his weight from one leg to the other so Bakugo wouldn't be able to throw him off, and the blond only succeeded in getting his crossed shins trapped, which inhibited his ability to evade the tickles even further. Nice going. The black pants became otherwise acquainted with the carpet without incident.

When Kirishima turned around to tease Bakugo some more, he noticed two marvellous things.

First, Bakugo was in the process of removing his top - he was too hot and Kirishima would give him an even worse workout, plus it wasn't going to be more awkward than being pantless and tickled - and he became consumed with the thought of finding out just how ticklish that lean muscle was, see it bulge as his fingers explored it, wreaked havoc on it...

But no, thought his addled mind, it had to be a trap! Bakugo was trying to get him to switch targets so he'd be able to buck him off! Well, he wasn't goin to fall for i--

The train of his thoughts was derailed as his gaze traveled down Bakugo's flushed form.

"Look who's decided to join us."

Bakugo went even redder as he followed Kirishima's gaze to the delightfully sizable bulge in his black boxers. As if he could have gotten any redder.

"It's because you keep TICKLING ME!" he half-screeched without thinking.

Kirishima's toothy grin was actually frightening. "So tickling turns you on?"

The silent answer hung in the air for a moment, then Kirishima thankfully turned his back to Bakugo, who made the mistake of feeling relieved... too bad both of his socks were swiftly pulled off. He could feel the cool air of the apartment - though warmer than 10 minutes ago - and while he was no expert on the subject of ticklishness, he could tell that it did not bode well for him. He'd been passively aware that he got more sensitive the more he sweated, but he never would have thought that it would... matter.

But then he felt a single finger of Kirishima's - fleshy again - travel down each of his naked soles, and he finally realized how fucked he truly was.

Before he could un-bite his tongue to curse or threaten, that sample proved too alluring for Kirishima, who spidered his fingers all over the defenseless soles.

"GYAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAH!!! NOHOHOOOOOOOAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Pure music to Kirishima's ears. "Tickle tickle! A-tickle tickle tickle! Who's a biddle dickly boi?!" Yeah, his mind was gone.

Bakugo's, on the other hand, was beset by a storm of sensation that he coudln't make sense of as Kirishima spidered his fingers all over his soles, no technique involved, just hitting all of his spots without a pattern that could be anticipated.

"Ah-diggle diggle diggle! Ah-diggle-figgle-giggle giggly boi!"

"STAAAAAHAHAHAHP!! STOHOP TEEHEHASIHIHIHNG MEHEEHEHEHEEE!!!"

"Or what, the widdle giggly boi is gonna giggle himself to death?"

"KIHIHRIHISHIHIMAHAHAHA!!"

"Baaaaaakuuuuugoooo!"

He could distincly hear Bakugo repeatedly slamming the back of his head into the couch, as if that would help him cope with the hated sensation. Well, not so hated, reasoned Kirishima. Hadn't Bakugo just (or was it 15 minutes ago?) admitted that tickling turned him on?

"I wonder what will happen if I keep going..." pondered Kirishima out loud, unsure whether his hysterical friend had heard him, and if so, whether he'd caught his drift. But the harbinger of a devious plan had begun to take shape in his mind.

First, ammunition. Bakugo obviously couldn't take it, but where was it that he really couldn't take it?

Time to experiment! He targeted each part of Bakugo's soles, listening for changes in his laughter and the return of threats. It wasn't the easiest thing with Bakugo still trying to fight him, curling and wiggling his feet. He didn't even realize that by doing so, he was delaying his next break! Kirishima shook his head. Sometimes, his friend was real dumb. Didn't he realize what his attempts to frustrate would result in? Silly.

So, after a couple of minutes, the redhead grabbed hold of Bakugo's right foot, bent the toes backward, and used his other hand to map out exactly how ticklish every nook and cranny of it was.

The heel, much like the tops, wasn't very ticklish, as attested by the blond's ability to curse at him somewhat coherently again, except for the very top, at the base of the arch, which seemed to be about as ticklish as the base of his toes and the inner side of his arch. The arch itself was a great, cackle-worthy target, about as good at the spot between the base of Bakugo's toes and the top of the ball. But it was the base of the ball that caused the blond to dissolve into hysteria, and yet the very center of the ball was somehow even more ticklish, ripping wordless roars of mirth from Bakugo's throat.

Kirishima made sure to linger on that spot for a good while to verify his findings, then subjected Bakugo's left foot to the same treatment, which confirmed that yes, he'd gotten in right the first time.

He rewarded himself by targeting that spot on both feet, causing Bakugo to coughi himself into silent laughter, from which he eventually emerged only to find Kirishima still targeting those spots.

He was on fire, wheezing, wheezing deeply, when Kirishima finally decided to grant him a break.

"So, my tickly pretty, how are you holding up?"

Bakugo's left arm, which had been banging into his couch nearly non-stop (was that a call for help? a way to lessen the sensation? a threat?), was now draped across his forehead, covering most of his eyes. Exhaustion and shame.

Bakugo's face, neck, and chest were a deep shade of red, glistening with perspiration that imparted the most sensual sheen to his chiseled muscles.

His right hand was tasked with protecting his modesty, cupped under his balls, his forearm blocking his manhood from view, but doing a poor job of it, as there it was, straight as an arrow, glistening tip poking from underneath...

And Kirishima realized he'd never felt more famished.

"Kiri... I... I c-can't..."

The piteous, defeated plea sent a shiver of knee-bucklingarousal through the redhead.

Bakugo could handle a lot of things. But his body being turned against him in a way that he perceived as deeply humiliating, and betraying him futher by making him enjoy it? he had no experience with it, and his entire being was set up to be unequipped to deal with it.

Kirishima's tongue darted across his lips. "If you want me to stop, you gotta rub one out for your bro."

Bakugo's head shot up, his fingers sinking into the cushions.

"What the fuck?" he questioned raucously, equal parts outraged and dumbfounded.

The redhead chuckled. "If you've got the energy to protest, you can also do the thing you obviously want to do." He lifted his hands so that Bakugo could see them, and activated his Quirk.

He'd expected Bakugo to yell at him, punch at his back, buck like a mad bronco; instead, the blond let his head drop back on the couch, covering his face with his hand.

"You'll pay for this," murmured Bakugo. "You're dead. You are so dead."

Kirishima drank in the sight. Bakugo admitting defeat.

"Cool," he chirped. "It's 'go nuts' time!"

And the claws struck. Headed straight for Bakugo's arches and the ball of each foot.

He'd given him an out. He'd done his due diligence. The rest was on Bakugo. No more mercy.

Bakugo gave a choked screech and his body tensed up. Kirishima would have probably liked the sight of his back arching up, flexing his abs and lifting his nether regions, if he wasn't so preoccupied with dragging him to hell.

A coughing fit propelled him out of silent laughter, but Kirishima's fingers didn't care that he felt dizzy with the stimulation, that all his nerves were searing hot, they just wanted more laughter, and despite all of himself, he couldn't help but deliver. Soon there would be no mind left.

The claws only ever veered away from his worst spots to prevent them from getting desensitized, but then he realized that he could simply focus on one sole at a time, scratching at the ball and arches - or, when he gave in to his intrusive thoughts, the middle and underside of the ball - of one foot, then moving to the other, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, hell in a loop...

He didn't think much of Bakugo's choked groan, nor his muscles seizing up and his toes curling and splaying - it hardly registered.

But when the tormented half-cries began to form a slow staccato, he turned around, still in time to see a couple of white plumes shoot from the head of Bakugo's straight virility and splatter on his chest as he furiously stroked himself off, face warped by tortured bliss as he licked at the palm of his own hand as he came...

Kirishima's expression must have resembled one of shock, but really he was lost in a rush of pleasure himself witnessing Bakugo's, locking eyes with him just before he began to descend from the peak...

Kirishima just watched him drop back down, spent, heaving breaths, paralyzed, enraptured.

Eventually, Bakugo mustered the strength and composure to scowl at him. "Look... what you've done!"

The rebuke snapped Kirishima out of his trance. He leaned sideways, rummaging into his bag out of the blond's view.

"Get... off... freak!" commanded Bakugo weakly, the veil over his pupils a clear indication that he was closer to sleep than to retribution.

Kirishima found what he'd been looking for. "Who said you could enjoy this?".

He showed Bakugo the hairbrush.

"You said you'd stop!"

The whine went straight to Kirishima's crotch.

"Technically, I said that if you wanted me to stop, you had to rub one out. I'd never said that I'd stop."

He leaned back down and poised the hairbrush an inch away from Bakugo's soles. "Who knows, maybe if you cum again, I'll change my mind..."

"N-No!" Stuttering betrayal. "You can't-"

And the hairbrush started moving. Not slow. Not tentatively. In for the kill.

The scream that came out of Bakugo must have shortened his life by ten years. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!!!!!!!! NOHOHT AFTEHER NOHOHOT AAAAAAFHTTEEEEEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHA!! HAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"

The perfect instrument of havoc. The most sublime melody. But what musician could bear to leave one hand idle? So, while the hairbrush ravaged Bakugo's left foot, Kirishima's claws descended upon the right, both slowly honing in on his very worst spots.

Bakugo found a wellspring of despair within himself that filled him with the most furious fight he'd put up that night, anything, anything to make it end, but Kirishima would not move, his Quirk held up, he wasn't moving anything from the knees down, that belong to the redhead, to do with as he pleased.

And as Bakugo ruined his couch, Kirishima's mind, addled with something other than alcohol, came up with one last ploy to break him.

Bakugo went still when the top half of his feet was introduced to Kirishima's sharp teeth, pinpoint tickling reaching deeper than the others, the points skidding along the slick, salty soles as Bakugo still fought futilely.

He'd lost, lost, lost everything. He was lost.

Kirishima couldn't even hear him anymore, too engrossed with his destructive work, his teeth ceasing (his hands, thought, undistracted) only long enough to rave. "Can you imagine if Denki found out what a freak you are? He'd tickle you and tickle you so much with his Quirk and you wouldn't be able to stop him, he'd drive you insane, you'd cum and he would just keep going, and again and again, you're all splooged out but he hasn't stopped yet and you can't even remember your name..."

He thought to glance back to see if Bakugo had somehow heard him, and that was when he noticed the blond had stopped responding. he was breathing deeply, having hit the wall who knows how long ago.

Kirishima got off of him. He cleaned him up, massaged his legs and soles, draped a duvet over his unconscious form.

Then, he staggered into his room. His groin ached, but he wouldn't take care of it just yet. Maybe he'd be able to pick up where he left off in his dreams.

He was too engrossed with the experience to realize that soon, there would be hell to pay...

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theatregaymer · 18 days

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Lol I just realize that there are different strokes for different folks. Also like, neither me nor anyone else dictates what you or other talented artists decide to take on. I just love seeing anything so I know you're still having fun and expressing yourself through your incredibly honed talent. <3 <3 <3

The duality ... 😅

Don't take this too seriously, but I am noticing a trend lately and I find it somewhat hilarious 🤣🤣🤣🤣🔥💀

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theatregaymer · 18 days

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Demon LOVES when he has TWO GIGGLING DROOLING TICKLE BOYS at ONCE!!! 😈

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theatregaymer · 19 days

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the only way to win at chess ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)👌

I present: Topaz being jealous because she thinks that numby likes ratio but numby is actually just an aventio fan

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theatregaymer · 28 days

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I remember getting my kink start at a forum called Hadashi. It might be the same dude honestly hahaha.

Tickle tickle!!! 😈

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theatregaymer · 1 month

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Stormy Nights... Now and Then

A/N: A story I wrote in late December as part of a gift exchange event among friends. I haven't uploaded the story yet out in public so here it is. The story ft. the brother-duo Clive and Joshua from the game Final Fantasy XVI.

Words: 2,250 words udner the cut

Clive opened his eyes as a deafening clap of thunder woke him up from his sleep, a glowing white light illuminating his room, casting long shadows. Rain cracked indispensable against his window, a symphonic melody in contrast to the cacophonous thunderstorm out there.

He turned to the side, letting out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes again, trying to find sleep again. Though another sound joined the nature orchestra, and he opened his eyes once again, listening up. A silent knocking could be heard at his door, followed by an almost inaudible whimper. "B-Brother... are you awake?"

"Joshua, is that you… doors open?" the ravenhead mumbled, as he sat up, wondering what was going on. The door opened with a creak and revealed his younger brother, holding a moogle plush he had gotten him on his ninth birthday in his arms, tightly pressed to his chest. He gave him a smile as he noticed his apprehensive expression.

"What's wrong, buddy?" "C-Can I sleep with you tonight? Moogy had a nightmare and- mhmm..." he interrupted himself, flinching as another sound of thunder filled the room "…the thunder…" Joshua mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Clive's smile grew more gentle as he pated the bed beside him. "Come here you two, you're safe with me."

The boy's face light up and he walked over to him, his bare feet made padded noises as they walked over the cold stone. The older Rosenfield lifted his blanket and Joshua immediately crawled into the big bed, the comfort of his brother's presence already easing his fears a bit. Clive wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, the younger boy nestling against him.

"You're all comfy there? Don't worry nothing can happen you here," he told him and arranging his loyal plush friend, pressing it softly against his cheek. Joshua nodded, visibly more at ease then a few seconds ago... though when another bang filled the cloudy sky, he trembled once again and Clive sighed, not in annoyance but in worriedness.

To lighten the mood, he began to tell Joshua a story about a brave blonde knight, leaving his home to go on a journey, his words weaving a tapestry of adventures, slowing beginning to calm the other down. As the stories unfolded, Clive's fingers playfully began to dance along Joshua's sides, eliciting a series of giggles from the younger boy.

"StoHoHop iHit, Clive! That tiHIhickles!" Joshua laughed, trying to squirm away, but Clive was gentle and relentless. "It's part of the story Joshua, don't tell me you want me to stop at the best part of it?" he teased, and the little boy gasped. "NoOHohot fair, pleaseeee, continue~" he begged, and Clive chuckled as his gullibility.

"That's what I thought, so... The young knight had finally reached the cave of the big dragon, facing the beast that beaten countless of others before him, known for his inhuman powers. Full of courage he stepped in his path, ready to fight for his honor and..." Joshua listened to his story with big eyes, looking at him when Clive stopped.

"...and then what, brother, what happened next?" Clive made a dramatic pause, before he growled playfully and made a claw-like hand. "...and then the big dragon used his secret skill, attacking the blonde knight, just... like this~" he quickly added and brought his hands down Joshua's flanks, wiggling gently over his sides and stomach, emitting the most adorable sounds he had ever heard.

"WaHahahAit~ HaHAHAhaHAhah...b-big brOHohther~" Joshua whined in-between his bubbly laughter, completely caught off guard by Clive's sudden approach, his little hands clinging onto his brother's shirt as his fingers continued to press gently into his sides.

The dark-haired didn't let himself be impressed by it and continued his "mission" to take away his little brother's fear and turning it into something more delightful - thus he continued his acting for a bit longer, not able to hide a smile and a giggle as he tried to stay a serious storyteller. Their laughter mingling, drowning out the sounds of the raging storm.

"'I've found the mighty knight's weakness!' the dragon laughed, his big claw covering the poor knights' entire body, wiggling and squiggling over it in delight~" Clive teased, his fingers gently probing up to his armpits, causing Joshua to burst into more laughter.

"HahHAHAhhaha, h-hEhEhhe diHIHidn't do thAhaht!" Joshua laughed, giving up on fighting off the well-aimed scribbles of the big drag- ahem brother's hands. The blonde didn't mind which way the story had turned to and yet he wished for a happy ending at least… and he wasn't disappointed.

"Ohh he did Josh, he did... and thus the knight was pulled further into the cave, his fears soon turning into curiosity and enjoyment as he began to befriend the lonely dragon who wasn't as bad as he had thought and it is told that after he had been allowed to leave, he still chose to visit his cave till this day, his laughter still ringing as an echo against the stone walls~" he finished, his tickling slowing down and turning into soothing strokes on his back.

Clive continued this for a few moments, before speaking up again. "Feeling better now, sorry I hope I didn't go overboard?" he asked softly. Joshua smiled at him, his eyes heavy with sleep. "...Y-You didn't... thank you, Clive *yawn* You always know how to make me feel better," he mumbled softly. "I'm glad Mr. Knight and the dragon ma…de…up…"

The older smiled, watching as Joshua's breathing deepened, the fears of the night forgotten in the safety of his arms. "Sleep well Joshua," he whispered, kissing his forehead before he followed his brother into dreamland short after.

***

Years had passed since the brothers had seen each other, let alone sleeping under the same roof, being separated by the threads of fate. The world had changed, and so had they. Josuha had now become a handsome young man, who still remained the big heart he always had, and Clive had gotten more wiser and stronger, still retaining his brotherly complex love.

After a long and arduous journey, they had finally found themselves together again, under the same roof of their ancestral home, now weathered by time and memory. The night was stormy, with lightning tearing through the sky, reminiscent one of the many nights they had shared years ago.

Clive sat in his bed, lost in thoughts as he read through and old book he had found in the library. Torgal, usually not leaving his side, was staying the night with Jill for the night, being ordered to "protect" her, even though she was the last one who was in need of protection. His reverie was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and he looked up.

"Clive, are you awake?" Joshua's voice, now deeper, yet still familiar, echoed through the room. "Yes, come in," the dark-haired responded, putting the book to the side as Joshua entered, a hesitant yet determined look on his face. He paused at the foot of Clive's bed, his blue eyes betraying a hint of the child he once was.

"Can I... Can we share the bed tonight? I don't want you to feel lonely after everything that's happened," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Clive raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Are you sure it's not because you're still scared of thunder?" he teased, recalling his fond memories of their childhood.

Like on command, a loud thunder could be heard, though Jousha seemed visibly unimpressed by it. The blonde rolled his eyes but climbed into bed beside Clive, not even waiting for an answer. "Shut it, I've grown up, Clive. I'm not that little boy anymore," he said, a slight blush on his ears being visible in the dim candlelight.

"Oh, is that so?" Clive challenged, his fingers finding their way to Joshua's side, pressing softly into it. The blonde's body flinched, and he was already starting to giggle as he tried to push the hand away. "NoHOhoho~" he laughed, leaning his head back in delight. Clive felt confident in his victory but the reaction he received was not what he had expected.

"Haha, seems to me like you are still the- woAH!" With a swift move, Joshua managed to overpower him, quickly reversing their positions and before Clive knew what was happening, he felt himself been pressed into the soft cushion with Joshua straddling him, grinning down into his surprised face.

"Maybe it's you who should be careful now," he said playfully, his hands darting towards his brother's sides. Clive immediately burst into laughter, unprepared for the ticklish counterattack. "AhHhaHAHAHah~ WahAhahAt? W-W-WahaHahit!" he gasped between laughs, trying to fend off Joshua's relentless fingers.

Joshua however just giggled, playing deaf. "What was that, Clive? I'm stronger now and you want me to continue, hehe suit yourself~" he teased and managed to catch both of his hands, pressing them over his head while worming the fingers of his free hand into his left ribcage, poking the sensitive spots in-between his ribs.

Clive was losing it and his laughter high-pitched when his brother hit an especially sensitive spot at his highest pair of ribs. "CoOHohmoe oHohon, J-JohoHoshua, I'm- ahAhahah I'm soHOorry~" Clive whined, tears of mirth running down his face as he took the blonde's revenge, his hands curling into fists as he shook them in vain.

"Oh, is this the spot brother?~ Hahaha, I didn't think you would be that sensitive~" he continued to tease him, enjoying this close and light-hearted moment, this brotherly warmth that he had missed - that he had yearned for - for so long. "NoHoHohoHo!" Clive laughed, his laughter getting louder with each passing second.

His feet were kicking behind him, his heels pressing into the soft mattress, and he was glad that they were not staying at an inn, otherwise it must sound like someone was currently murdered. The younger continued to launch his attack, listening to his brother's laughter.

He also noticed that Clive didn't seem to put that much effort into stopping him. Joshua knew how strong his brother was and right now he was not even acting half as strong as he really was, and he smiled warmly, thankful that Clive was playing along, enjoying this moment just as much as he did.

"Maybe this will make you confess~" he teased and sneaked his fingers under his light shirt, his fingertips sliding over his bare stomach, feeling muscles and warm skin under them, leaving goosebumps. He could sense them vibrating and chortles of laughter broke out of Clive as his bucking got stronger, yet somehow, he managed to hold them under control.

"HahaAHAhHAHAHA!" "Not yet, hng? You're tougher than I thought... well it would be boring otherwise~" Joshua chuckled, thinking for a moment before an idea crossed his mind and his smile turned into a sly one. Wait cold it be… it's worth a try.

"Ohh you're in big trouble now, I know where your weak spot is. Hehe... time to bring the big guns in~" he chuckled as he wiggled his free hand midair in front of Clive's face and when the ravenhead noticed where he was aiming next, the expression on his face was telling Joshua that he had hit the jackpot. "DoHohon't yoOHuh da-"

"...Dare to stop? Oh, I wouldn't dare to~" he interrupted him and before Clive could've replied, Joshua's hand found its way into his unprotected armpit and hell broke loose. "AHAHAHAHHHHAHAh!! D-DAHAHAHAHHAMN YOHOHOU! HAHAHAHAHHAHHAA!" Clive broke as the laughter bubbled out of him like a waterfall, the dam finally broken for real.

Joshua snicked and gave up holding down his arms, attacking both his armpits despite him immediately bringing down his arms to trap his hands in said spots. Not knowing what to do anymore, Clive decided for another attempt to tickle him back, his arms shooting up and squeezing the blonde's hips, trying to push him off of him.

"Okay, okay! TruHUhuce!" he laughed and actually managed to make the other loose his hold, falling to the side, next to him. "You cheHEheheater~" "You had your fuHUhun~" The room filled with the sound of their laughter and little bantering, as both of them calmed down, the storm outside inconsequential and long forgotten.

As both their laughter finally subsided, Joshua settled beside Clive, grinning at him with a big smile. "See? I told you I've grown up," Joshua said, a hint of pride in his voice. Clive smiled at him, pulling his brother into a hug, ruffling through his blonde locks.

"Haha and yet you still are my ticklish little brother~ Some things never change," he joked, and earned another poke into his side as Joshua puffed out his cheeks. "That's rich, coming from you," he teased, and both fell into another laughing fit, before lying next to each other. "I really missed you Clive..." the blonde mumbled, nuzzling a bit more against him.

The ravenhead smiled as he lied and arm around him, pulling Joshua even closer. "I missed you too Joshua but we're finally together again and that's what counts the most," he told him, and his hand was gently stroking his head, making him sleepy.

They lay there, listening to the rain against the windows that worked as a soothing lullaby and before they knew it, the two brothers had fallen asleep, embraced in their presence and their love on this rainy night.

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theatregaymer · 1 month

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It's been a while

So here's a brief summary for anyone who has actually noticed my lack of activity. I've been unemployed technically since the end of 2019 just before we started hearing about covid, working as a private artist to keep myself above the water's surface so to speak. Having to take care of my disabled family member on top of that has been an immense strain on my mental and physical well being and it has not at all been easy. Plus being a gay guy living with conservative mormon folks is never gonna be a fun time. THANKFULLY! A beam of light has found me in the last month or so. My friends are looking for a new apartment and want to finally make real our long discussed plan of living together, so i'm currently frantically cleaning and packing to get down to them where I'll both be able to thrive emotionally but financially as well, since my job opportunities both as a solo freelancer and otherwise will be much better. To top that all off I should be in a better place to get back to my writing that sits and collects dust so often once i've started it.

#personal #why ive been gone #stress #irl #moving

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theatregaymer · 1 month

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blurred lines, sharp twine [bakugou/deku, 5.6k, nsfw]

okay. so I haven't written a fic in over 5 years!! can y'all believe that? i used to be so active on this blog, pumping out fics day and night, but life got busy and before I knew it over 5 years have passed omg.

of course my first fic back would be something like this lol. this was written for @wreckingtickles who shares my undying love for bakugou getting absolutely destroyed. they prompted me with a fic featuring bakugou's stirrup leggings and that kinda spiraled into this huge monster of a fic.

please enjoy 8) (also i made an ao3 to cross-post my tickle fics on!)

warnings: nsfw, feet, intense tickling, bondage, veryyyy slight dub-con, minors DNI.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but he definitely doesn’t really try to hide the fact that he’s a little on the strange side. He knows he’s a gigantic nerd (he’s thoroughly reminded of that fact by Bakugou everyday), he knows he’s a little awkward, and he knows he’s maybe even a little bit of a freak. But, through the years of trauma, war, violence, and near-death, he’s come to accept that life is much too short to deny who you are.

Moving in with Bakugou after graduation was something Izuku didn’t even have to think about. Bakugou set up a few apartment viewings, and it went completely unsaid that the smartest decision for both of them would be to stick together. Roommates equaled cheaper rent, and since they both were working under the same agency it was easy to align their schedules. Normally they patrol together (the Wonder Due didn’t get its name for nothing), but occasionally - especially lately - Bakugou has been picking up more shifts than usual.

Izuku can’t help but notice how tired Bakugou has been lately, especially tonight, coming home from his 9th day in a row of patrol. The door closes softly behind him - he must think Izuku’s asleep already as it’s around two in the morning, and Izuku turns slightly from his position curled up on the couch to watch Bakugou toe his boots off. He’s already changed out of his hero uniform, clad in only his leggings and a soft, worn looking hoodie that Izuku’s pretty sure belongs to him.

Bakugou leans his head against the wall in the foyer for a brief moment, sighing deeply, and Izuku’s heart aches at the noise.

“Late night?” Izuku asks, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table.

Bakugou jumps. “Jesus - shit, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs, a slight smile on his face.

“The fuck are you still doing up?” Bakugou grumbles, finally making his way over to sprawl on the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a grunt.

Izuku shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Which, technically isn’t a lie, but. Still. Even when he lays in his bed at night during one of Bakugou’s shifts that he’s not partnered on, he finds himself teetering between sleep and wakefulness as he listens carefully for the front door to open and shut, signaling Bakugou has gotten home safe for the night. Codependency wasn’t something Izuku was planning on adopting after the war, but his heart just can’t seem to relax if he doesn’t know that Bakugou is home and safe. Breathing. Alive.

Normally it’s fine, but since Bakugou has been working himself to death the past few weeks, Izuku’s own sleep schedule has taken a toll.

Bakugou doesn’t look bloodied or bruised now, though, which is a good sign.

“I thought your shift ended at midnight?” Izuku asks, his eyes unconsciously skimming over Bakugou’s exhausted body as he slumps further down into the cushions. He folds his arms over his chest, burrowing into the oversized borrowed hoodie, and Izuku smiles because Bakugou is so loud and brash, but right now, here and safe at home, he allows himself to be soft with Izuku.

“It was supposed to,” Bakugou grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “One of the interns got caught up in a stupid bank robbery and ended up with a fuckin’ concussion, so I stayed late to help finish up some of his paperwork.”

“That’s sweet of you, Kacchan,” Izuku teases, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to rest in Izuku’s lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou says, voice tense with exhaustion, “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”

Izuku let’s his hands fall onto Bakugou’s ankles, rubbing gently with his thumbs, and he swallows heavily as his eyes trail down Bakugou’s body, the black leggings hugging his muscles tightly, all the way down to the thin straps holding the stirrups along the arches of his feet.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but shit, that’s another thing about moving in with Bakugou after graduation. Getting to see all of these new and exciting sides of him; tense and angry and bloody after a fight, soft and exhausted after a long boring shift, sleepy and comfortable on his day off.

But the damn stirrup leggings have Izuku trying desperately hard not to act up.

“Do you - uh, want a foot rub or something?” Izuku blurts out, his thumb pressing into the bone of Bakugou’s ankle.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and Izuku offers a small nervous smile, trying not to seem as if he’s too interested. He just wants to help his friend relax, okay? Nothing weird about that. It’s not like they haven’t massaged each other before after a long day of hero work. Bakugou’s great with his hands, and Izuku’s arms and shoulders get knotted up so tightly after hours of using his quirk.

Bakugou still has smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes since he hasn’t washed his face yet since patrol, and it makes his gaze piercing in the low light of the living room. He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, before shrugging eventually and folding his arms across his chest.

“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna say no to a free foot massage,” He shrugs, “Lemme take these stupid fuckin’ leggings off first - ”

“No!” Izuku blurts out, and he chuckles awkwardly as his grip tightens on Bakugou’s ankles. “I mean - um. You don’t have to, it’s fine.”

This time, Bakugou looks… curious, which is the only way Izuku can describe his gaze. He bites his lip a bit as he thinks, and when he wiggles his toes a bit, Izuku feels warmth pooling low in his belly. Bakugou’s feet are surprisingly slender, his arch defined beautifully, ideal for someone who has to be quick on their feet. His toes are slightly pink, as are the soles of his feet, and they look soft from being in his boots all day. Izuku swallows thickly, but god, he just wants to touch.

Is he into feet? Who knows, maybe, he honestly hasn’t thought too much about it until recently. Maybe he’s just into Bakugou’s feet? When Bakugou wiggles his toes again, Izuku finally glances up and catches his gaze.

“Well? What’re you waitin’ for,” Bakugou says, his voice softer than it’s been all night.

Izuku’s hands are large, tan, and calloused - a stark contrast against Bakugou’s pale skin, and at the fist press of his thumbs into the arch, Bakugou exhales quickly through his nose, body sinking further into the couch.

It’s a little difficult to massage his feet with the strap from his stirrups hugging his arches, but at this moment in time Izuku would rather die than ask Bakugou to take them off. He moves over to just one foot, pressing both thumbs into the heel of his foot, and he slowly works his way up, calluses catching onto the legging strap as he moves upwards.

“Did the bank robber get caught?” Izuku asks, hands firm but delicate, watching as Bakugou’s toes twitch when he digs in beneath them.

“What?” Bakugou replies, blinking his eyes open where they’ve fallen shut. “The - oh, shit. Yeah. Sero was actually patrolling nearby so he got him while I took the dumbass intern to medical.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Izuku chuckles, “We were dumbass interns once, too.”

“Interns, yes. Dumbass? No,” Bakugou shoots back, but then he smirks. “Well, I wasn’t a dumbass. Can’t say the same about you, nerd.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, and he can’t help it when his touch softens, hooking a finger underneath the stirrup strap to graze his nail along the delicate arch.

The reaction is instant - Bakugou inhales sharply and twitches, looking ready to pull his leg back, but Izuku holds onto the strap, preventing him from moving away.

“Deku,” Bakugou growls, and to everyone else on this planet, the expression on his face would scream angry, sharp, intimidating.

But Izuku’s known him since they were kids. Izuku can read him like a damn book, and right now underneath that glare, Bakugou looks nervous.

Izuku keeps his touch soft, one finger hooked into the stirrup strap, while his other hand grazes right beneath the blonde’s toes. His foot twitches again, his toes curling up tightly, and the only word that comes to Izuku’s mind is cute. His feet are cute, and apparently sensitive, and Izuku has no idea what monster has taken over his brain but all he wants to do right now is see Bakugou squirm.

He might be dipping into dangerous territory, but ever since they moved in together, Bakugou’s been much more open to physical touch. It almost feels like a game they’ve been playing, dancing around each other but never going to a place they can’t return from. They’ve fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. They’ve spent quiet days off with Izuku’s head in Bakugou’s lap, the blonde idly playing with his hair while they watch old reruns of All Might movies together. They’ve even spent a few nights together in bed, holding each other close when the nightmares creep up every few weeks.

But this? This might be a place they can’t return from. Izuku’s not sure what Bakugou’s feeling right now, but the lines are so incredibly blurred in this moment, and Bakugou’s cheeks are steadily turning pink, and Izuku knows he could pull away if he really, really tried.

But he’s not. He’s staying put, fingers clenched into the cushions of the couch, eyeing Izuku warily.

“You know,” Izuku says idly, moving one hand to grip Bakugou’s ankle, the other hand trailing his fingers up and down, up and down, so soft it’s barely there. “You used to be so mean when we were kids, holding me down and tickling me until I cried.”

At the word - tickling - Bakugou audibly swallows. “Not my fault you were so damn ticklish, idiot.”

“I could never really get you back because you were so much stronger than me,” Izuku muses.

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, I’m not fuckin’ ticklish,” Bakugou replies. His voice sounds sure and steady, but his eyes keep flickering down to where Izuku is still stroking up and down his sole. He’s tense, and Izuku can feel it - Bakugou’s trying so hard not to move, not to give himself away.

Izuku laughs quietly to himself. Of course Bakugou would see this as a challenge to himself.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, Kacchan,” Izuku says, “Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it might actually come true.”

“It is true, you little shit - ah!”

He squeaks, his breath hitching, when Izuku flutters his fingers under his toes again. His other leg, the one Izuku isn’t holding by the ankle, jerks back, and Izuku thinks no, we can’t have that now, before tendrils of black whip shoot out, pulling his other leg back and twisting around the ankle.

“Okay, now that’s completely fuckin’ unfair,” Bakugou grunts, trying to sound unaffected, but this time Izuku can hear the shake in his voice. “The hell are you tryin’ do here, Deku?”

“Nothing,” Izuku says, a few more tendrils of black whip emerging to wrap around his other ankle so both of Izuku’s hands are free now.

“You call this nothing?” Bakugou tugs at his feet a bit, and black whip tightens to keep him in place.

Izuku ignores him. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”

Bakugou frowns. “I’m not.”

“Then this is nothing,” Izuku teases, finally wiggling his fingers in earnest over both of Bakugou’s feet, now bound in his lap for him to do with as he pleases. The thought has his stomach flipping, molten lava settling low in his gut, and he can’t help his dick twitching in interest.

Bakugou’s reaction is beautiful, finally a small huff of laughter escaping him as he wiggles his feet as much as he can with black whip holding his ankles down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and they keep alternating from clutching at the cushion beneath him to hovering in the air as if he’s fighting his instinct of reaching down and showing Izuku away. His eyes are averting, as if the thought of watching Izuku tickle him is too much, and oh, he’s so cute.

Izuku’s feeling a little nice at the moment, but Bakugou’s fighting his laughter, and Izuku wants to hear him, so he moves his fingers up, scratching underneath his toes. Bakugou does laugh this time, covering his mouth with one hand in surprise as the sound escapes him. His toes curl, trying to block Izuku’s fingers, and a few more tendrils of black whip slither out and wrap around each of his toes, effectively prying them back so Izuku’s fingers can burrow into the soft, sensitive flesh there.

“Wait - no, Deku - ah, ahah.” His laughter is light and staccato, little gasps in between his growls as he covers his mouth with both hands now, muffling himself as his eyes squint in mirth. Once again, he could get Izuku to stop if he really wanted to, but besides the tugging and squirming of his bound feet, he’s not doing much else to get away.

That thought intrigues Izuku, and his confidence grows as he scratches in between his toes, pulled back and vulnerable thanks to black whip.

“I always thought your feet might be sensitive, you know, with how much you sweat and stuff,” Izuku muses, gears turning in his head as he makes mental notes on where Bakugou seems to react the most to. Underneath his toes seems much more ticklish than between them, but the arch of his sole seems equally as sensitive, especially when he pulls back one of the stirrup straps and rakes all five fingers up and down.

Bakugou gasps. “Y-you’re a d-dick,” he growls, but the words melt into laughter as Izuku does the same thing to his other foot before letting the strap go with a snap.

He gives Bakugou a moment to breathe, and the blonde finally lowers his hands from his mouth. His face is extremely flushed now, and he’s looking at Izuku with a mix of murderous intent and… want?

“Still not ticklish?” Izuku murmurs, rubbing his palms over Bakugou’s soles. The blonde twitches again, tensing, before relaxing when Izuku just rubs firmly, soothing.

“Once again - you’re a dick,” he grumbles.

“And you’re ticklish,” Izuku teases back, scratching his nails up the sides of Bakugou’s feet this time before making their way back to the soft, pink skin right beneath his toes.

“Don’t - Deku, st-stop! It f-fuckin’ - ”

“It what?” Izuku’s feeling mean now, and having Bakugou squirming because of him has his dick hardening more in his sweats. “It tickles?”

“I - I c-can’t - ahahaha!”

“You’re so strong, you can take it, can’t you?” And oh, Izuku’s playing dirty, because there’s nothing Bakugou hates than being told he can’t do something, and if he admits he can’t take the tickling, it’d be the same as admitting defeat, and Bakugou Katsuki is not someone who’s ever been defeated.

Although, Izuku thinks, watching as Bakugou covers his mouth again and squeezes his eyes shut, tickling might just be the key to finally defeating this man.

Izuku doesn’t like how muffled he sounds, though, so he uses more of black whip to sneakily slide up and twist around Bakugou’s wrists, tugging them away from his face. A few tendrils slip up his arms and slide underneath the sleeves of his hoodie, and Bakugou’s expression turns to panic.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” He hisses, but his lips are still twitching on a smile which ruins the intimidation of it. “This is an awful fuckin’ use of your quirk - ”

“So was last week, with yours,” Izuku interrupts, “when you were too lazy to microwave the popcorn and tried to just explode it instead.” Izuku laughs, remembering how long it took them to fish out all of the popcorn kernels from every single crevice in the living room.

“At least that was for a good reason!” Bakugou protests, squirming when the tendrils of black whip slip higher into his sleeves, nearly grazing his underarms now. His breathing is short, body tensed and mouth turned down in a pout.

“You’re saying this isn’t a good reason?”

“What, so fuckin’ torturing me is a good reason to abuse your quirk?”

“It’s torture?” Izuku murmurs. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

If Bakugou’s face could get any pinker, it would, and he bites his lip hard when Izuku wiggles black whip into the hollows of his underarms, keeping it light and feathery. Bakugou can’t hold out for long, though, and soon he’s gasping on a laugh and wriggling as much as he can in the hold Izuku has him in.

This time though, Izuku fails to notice Bakugou’s feet squirming aggressively, and Izuku freezes and gasps when the blonde’s bound feet nudge against the very obvious hard-on in his sweats.

Izuku swallows, his hands darting down to grab a hold of Bakugou’s feet. His toes are still tied back with black whip, and Izuku resists the urge to brush his fingers along the skin because something is unraveling inside of him and having Bakugou like this is quickly becoming addicting. Instead, he ducks his head, words escaping him as he opens his mouth but not coming up with anything to say.

A few seconds pass, Izuku preparing himself mentally for an explosion to blast him away or for disgusted yelling and screaming to occur. He’s already mentally drafting the text to Todoroki to ask if he can move in with him when Bakugou inevitably kicks him out once he’s freed.

A beat passes. One. Two. The silence is deafening, and Izuku finally manages to raise his eyes up to glance at Bakugou, surprised at the curious expression painted there. Bakugou nudges his heels gently against Izuku’s dick again, and Izuku hisses and bites his lip, apologies already spilling from his mouth,

“I’m s-sorry, shit, um - ”

“I should’ve fuckin’ known you’d be into something weird like this,” Bakugou says lowly, tilting his head a bit, almost like a cat analyzing it’s prey. “You’re a little freak, ain’t ya?”

The words should be harsh and piercing, but Bakugou sounds like he’s…. teasing him. And not in the mean, bullying way that Izuku was expecting. Their eyes meet, and Izuku sees a small hint of a smirk when Bakugou presses his heels in harder, wiggling against Izuku’s clothed cock as much as he can in his restraints.

“Kacchan - ah,” Izuku sighs, cheeks burning. “What’re you - ”

“What is it you like about it, huh?” Bakugou asks, his voice low.

Izuku’s head feels like it’s going to explode. “I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t even - I mean… I like….”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. His arms are still held tightly with black whip, the tendrils under his arms twitch when Izuku stutters, making Bakugou squeak quietly and jerk in his hold. That has Izuku’s eyes darkening again, and Bakugou still hasn’t blasted him away. If anything he’s egging him on, and Izuku’s mind races with what this might mean.

“I like… you,” Izuku starts off slowly.

“Me?” Bakugou questions, and if Izuku isn’t mistaken, there’s a twinge of something akin to hope in his voice.

“Yeah, you,” Izuku breathes, all rational thoughts thrown to the wayside now. “But I also like… having you, like this,” Izuku plays with the stirrup straps on Bakugou’s soles, fiddling with the fabric, breathing hard when Bakugou squirms each time his fingers graze the skin. “I like feeling you squirm. Hearing you laugh. Having you all… y’know, vulnerable for me?”

As he speaks, a few more tendrils of black whip slip under the front hem of Bakugou’s hoodie, slithering up and tapping away at his ribs. That has Bakugou giggling again, and god, Izuku loves his laugh. This is different from his normal laugh, it’s softer and hiccupy and the sound sends white-hot heat straight to his dick. Shit, could he come from this? Just from having Bakugou squirming and laughing and bound up like a perfect little present?

“Jesus - Izuku,” Bakugou laughs, rubbing his thighs together, and Izuku’s eyes widen when he sees a bulge in his leggings, now visible from where his hoodie has ridden up.

Izuku’s brain short-circuits then, and he’s now laser focused on the other boy, fingers moving almost mindlessly as they go back to scratching beneath sensitive toes. Izuku keeps his eyes on Bakugou’s face, his expressions, every twitch of his brow, and the blonde chokes on a laugh and ducks his head, trying to hide his face since Izuku has his arms pulled aside.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku asks, growing bolder the more Bakugou squirms.

“Fuck, oh my g-god, I d-dont - !”

Izuku moves finally, and though he keeps Bakugou bound with his quirk, he crawls up until he’s seated, straddling Bakugou’s thighs where they’re squeezed together, and now Izuku’s just a nudge away from Bakugou’s own obvious arousal.

“You don’t like it?” Izuku says, and this time, he withdraws black whip from underneath Bakugou’s hoodie, instead sliding his own hands beneath the fabric to touch bare skin. His hands are warm and large, fingers curling gently over Bakugou’s deliciously tapered waist, and though he doesn’t do anything yet, Bakugou’s shifting and squirming beneath him already.

Bakugou’s eyes meet Izuku’s finally, and when Izuku flicks his gaze down to Bakugou’s cock, hard as a rock in his leggings, Bakugou groans and ducks his head again.

“It’s not - I don’t know!” Bakugou breathes out, frustration clear in his voice. “You’re just - fuck, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, and Bakugou tugs helplessly at his arms again. Izuku hums, pulling his arms with black whip until his wrists are crossed, and then slowly - absolutely mean - he lifts Bakugou’s arms up and back until his elbows are bent, bound hands pulled behind his head and forcing Bakugou to lean back more into the arm of the couch. Izuku slides further up, straddling Bakugou’s thighs until their clothed cocks finally brush, and Bakugou breathes out a shaky noise.

“It’s okay,” Izuku breathes.

“Let me go,” Bakugou grumbles, but his eyes are averted, blush high on his cheeks, teeth gnawing at his lower lip nervously. And wow, having Bakugou nervous, beneath him where Izuku can feel the heat radiating off of his body, has Izuku grinding forward, rubbing their dicks together firmly.

Bakugou instinctively tries to buck his hips up, but with the way he’s bound up, he can’t get too much leverage. Once again, he’s still not blasting Izuku off into the sun with his own quirk, so Izuku drums his fingers against Bakugou’s bare sides, drawing little circles with his thumbs right beneath his ribs.

“Ah - ” Bakugou hiccups on another strained giggle, and Izuku grins at him sharply.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku repeats, tickling oh-so-gently, because now that he has his hands touching him, he can’t stop. He can feel every hitch of breath, can feel his body tremble with restrained laughter, and there’s definitely no going back from here.

When Bakugou doesn’t respond, Izuku creeps his hands higher, towards the upper part of his ribs. His hoodie is bunched up completely now, and although Izuku would love to remove the damn piece of clothing, he’s scared if he lets Bakugou go now, this electric bubble they’re both in will pop and Izuku will have missed his chance completely.

He grinds against Bakugou again, while at the same time finally digging into his ribs, and the explosive laughter that Bakugou lets out has Izuku groaning out loud.

“Okay - okahahay! Fuck!” Bakugou yelps, taking a breath when Izuku’s fingers finally pause. “I - fuck, I don’t know. I like… how it feels, not being… not being able to move or some shit, I guess.”

Bakugou looks like he’d rather die than tell Izuku all of this, but Izuku’s already gotten this far, and there’s nothing that would ever make him stop now. The blurred line is now vanished completely, and Izuku murmurs quietly,

“You like being tied up, Kacchan?”

Bakugou frowns, glaring at him, but doesn’t respond.

Izuku continues, smirking. “You like being tied up by me?”

Bakugou squirms a bit, staying defiantly silent.

“You like being tickled like this? Helpless, vulnerable, letting me do whatever I want to you while you can’t do anything to stop it?” Izuku has no idea where this filthy mouth of his came from, but he takes this newfound confidence and harnesses it, slipping a hand down to cup Bakugou through his leggings and squeeze.

“Nn - fuck,” Bakugou pants. “No, you asshole, I don’t like being tickled - ”

“I disagree,” Izuku says, and this time when he pinches at Bakugou’s ribs, he can feel Bakugou’s cock jump beneath his hand as the blonde gasps out a laugh. “I actually think you really like it.”

“Just - when it’s you,” Bakugou finally gasps out, giggling softly as Izuku crawls his hand higher. His words give Izuku pause, Izuku’s heart beating rapidly in his chest because oh. Okay. Just when it’s him? Because it’s him?

Oh.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, a magnetic pull tugging at his chest until he’s ducking down and kissing the laughter right out of Bakugou’s mouth. The blonde moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper, and Izuku happily licks into his mouth, chasing the feeling of god, fuck, finally.

Bakugou jerks his head to the side though when Izuku’s hand creeps higher, fluttering dangerous fingers into his underarm, and he yelps on a laugh, squirming and bucking up into Izuku’s other hand still kneading at his dick.

“Oh my god,” Bakugou giggles, shaking his head back and forth, and Izuku takes a moment to duck lower and kiss his neck, licking up beneath his jaw, biting gently right under his ear. That has Bakugou squeaking again, and Izuku moans as he feels the blonde tremble against him.

“God, you’re so cute,” Izuku moans in disbelief. “How can you be so hot and cute at the same time?”

“Y-you should be - ah, ahaha - asking yourself th-that - fuck, Izuku, I cahahan’t!”

Izuku stops tickling him for a moment and grins. “You think I’m hot and cute?”

“Not right now, while you’re ti - ,” Bakugou cuts himself off with an embarrassed grunt, not even able to say the actual word, and Izuku takes note of that happily, “Also, fuck you, I’m not cute.”

Izuku doesn’t respond right away, instead opting for shoving Bakugou’s leggings down so they’re bunched around his thighs, freeing his dick, before settling back up where he was seated before. He pulls his own cock out of his sweats, and when he wraps a large, calloused hand around them both and strokes, squeezing perfectly tight, Bakugou throws his head back and moans.

Tendrils of black whip slide down his legs where his feet are still tightly held in place, and as they flutter and scratch beneath his toes more intensely this time, Bakugou actually lets out a small sob, his eyes tearing up as he simultaneously tries to tug at his legs while also squirming up into Izuku’s hand on their cocks.

“You’re feet are so sensitive,” Izuku muses, his pupils so dark his eyes look black, and although Bakugou can’t really kiss him back while he’s laughing, that doesn’t stop Izuku from swallowing up every little noise he makes, lips spit-slick and panting against Bakugou’s mouth.

“Izu - Izuku, plehehease - ah, fuck, fuck,” He sounds like something straight out of one of Izuku’s wet dreams, and Izuku leans back again to stare at his face. Bakugou’s eyes are screwed up now, tears leaking out from the corners, and Izuku coos at him.

“Baby,” he says sweetly, “Is it too much?”

“Y-yes, I can’t - Izuku please.”

“I think you’re stronger than that. It’s just tickling,” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cock is leaking, and it’s making the slide of Izuku’s hand on them both so, so good. Izuku brings out some more tendrils of black whip, sliding them right back underneath Bakugou’s hoodie to return to the warmth of his underarms, and Bakugou screams.

“It’s so - ahhaha, it’s t-too much,” Bakugou whines, his breathless giggling mixed with moans that sound as if they’re being punched out of him, and his body is strung tight, so tight Izuku can feel how close he is to breaking.

There’s something so incredibly sweet about taking Bakugou completely apart like this. Izuku pants and grinds into his own hand, squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock against the blonde’s, and while black whip continues tormenting Bakugou’s poor feet and underarms, Izuku’s own free hand comes up to grip Bakugou by the chin, forcing him to look at him, eyes blurry through his tears.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his lips just a breath away from Bakugou’s, feeling the warm desperate noises coming out of the boy’s mouth.

Izuku swipes his thumb over the head of Bakugou’s cock, his own arousal forgotten as he slips down to squeeze at the base tightly, preventing the blonde from actually coming. Bakugou makes a guttural, desperate noise, and Izuku’s grip tightens on his face, keeping him there, watching him.

Izuku’s quirk is nearly everywhere by now, black whip slithering beneath the leggings to stroke behind his knees, a few more tendrils brushing and tickling at his neck, and even more settled beneath his hoodie, prodding and digging and relentless. The fight has completely left Bakugou finally, and he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, body shaking and fighting the plethora of sensations that are overwhelming him.

“Hey,” Izuku laughs a bit, “Baby, c’mon. Tell me how it feels.”

It almost feels evil, watching as Bakugou tries to speak, to come with something, anything to get Izuku to - what, to stop tickling him? To keep tickling him? To stroke his dick again until he comes all over himself? Bakugou’s brain is mush, and Izuku revels in the desperation painted on the boy’s blushing face.

“It - fuck, it f-feels like torture,” Bakugou manages to gasp out, but he bucks his hip up when he feels black whip dig into the ticklish dip of his hip.

“You like being tortured, it seems,” Izuku points out as Bakugou’s cock leaks another bead of precome, so red and hard it’s nearly purple.

“No - ” Bakugou hiccups on his laughter, eyes widening when Izuku raises a brow,, “I mean - fine, shihihit - yes, yes, I like it, god fucking d-damnit Izuku!”

“Shh,” Izuku soothes, but he doesn’t release his hold at the base of Bakugou’s cock.

“Please,” Bakugou whines, and Izuku nearly comes when he realizes he has Bakugou exactly where he wants him.

“Please what?” Izuku releases Bakugou’s chin and his hand slips under the hoodie, pinching right at Bakugou’s top rib, a place Izuku’s learned makes him absolutely lose it.

“Pl-please let me - ah, ahaha fuhuhuck - please let me c-come!” Bakugou’s crying in earnest now, ducking his head down to press his forehead against the crook of Izuku’s neck, and Izuku’s heart leaps when the blonde bites down on Izuku’s shirt, trying to muffle his noises in the fabric.

It’s adorable, and Izuku sighs happily. “Of course, Kacchan.”

He grabs ahold of both of their cocks again, this time stroking in earnest, fast and quick. It doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his hand before Bakugou is crying out against Izuku’s neck, writhing beneath him as he comes, and Izuku keeps tickling him through it. The sensation is electric, Bakugou’s body fighting to distinguish between pleasure and torment, and Izuku groans loudly as he uses Bakugou’s come to stroke his own cock.

“St-stop,” Bakugou giggles, completely breathless, “Too - too f-fucking much - please - ”

Izuku ducks back down to kiss the sweet helpless laughter right out of his mouth, finally coming, his own come mixing with Bakugou’s between them. Izuku heaves a deep breath, slumping against Bakugou as black whip finally retracts, disappearing back into his body and releasing the blonde from their clutches.

It’s quiet for a moment, Bakugou’s arms having fallen limp at his sides, head still buried in Izuku’s neck as he catches his breath. When he shifts, flexing his legs a little, Izuku leans back, sitting up and brushing Bakugou’s hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“Holy fuck,” Bakugou manages, blinking leftover tears from his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ evil, you know that?”

Izuku giggles nervously, still riding the high of whatever the hell just happened between them. Bakugou finally lifts his arms, wrapping them around Izuku’s waist loosely, and Izuku’s heart flutters when Bakugou leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth.

“You liked it,” Izuku says, turning to kiss him properly, now able to happily lick into the warmth without Bakugou’s laughter hindering him.

“Fuck off,” Bakugou murmurs into his mouth. “So what if I did, huh?”

Izuku just hums, because that blurred line being gone means that now he can kiss Bakugou whenever he wants, and that thought has him grinning widely and winding his arms around Bakugou’s neck.

“Ew, no, don’t get your nasty jizz-hands in my hair!” Bakugou protests, and Izuku laughs out loud, pulling his arms back quickly.

“Shit - sorry, sorry! We should probably get cleaned up, huh? Your hoodie is covered in come.”

“Good thing it’s not my hoodie, then,” Bakugou smirks. His cheeks are still flushed, and Izuku rolls his eyes as he takes his come-covered hand and smacks it right into Bakugou’s cheek before darting off of him and running away like his life depends on it.

Bakugou shrieks and scrambles to chase after him, and Izuku’s laughter echoes happily through their apartment.

#bakudeku #bnha #bnha tickling #tickling #dekubaku #tickle fic

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