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kusuguricafe · 4 months

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Seek and Destroy - Squealing Santa 2K23

A/N: surpriiiiise @chibisstuff!! I'm your squealing santa this year! I hope you love your gift <3 happy holidays! 🎁

Characters: lee!Deku, lee!Kaminari, ler!Bakugou

Chapter 1 - Tough Spot

Summary: Bakugou's ler mood has gotten out of control and Deku happens to be pass by at just the right wrong moment.

Katsuki had an itch. An itch to destroy. He’d been pacing back and forth trying to come up with a way to rid himself of his desires, but he was out of luck. There’s really no other way to satiate the desire to tickle someone into oblivion without actually tickling someone into oblivion.

The next poor soul to pass by was in for a wrecking of a lifetime. And lo and behold, a certain green-haired, freckled boy happened to enter the common room at just the wrong moment.

Perfect, Katsuki thought. “Oi, nerd.”

“Oh! Hi, Kacchan! What is it?”

“Come with me. I want to show you something.”

“Okay!”

Katsuki led Izuku to his dorm room. Kacchan never lets anyone into his room, except for Kirishima on occasion, Izuku thought. He must be serious.

Katsuki opened the door and said, “Wait on the bed for a sec.”

Izuku nodded and hopped up onto Katsuki’s bed. He waited patiently while Katsuki rummaged around in his closet for something. He pulled out a red tie.

Izuku cocked his head in confusion. “...A tie? I didn’t know you even owned one of those.”

“Watch it, nerd. Just hold still, will ya?”

“O-okay.”

Katsuki walked over to the bed, grabbing Izuku’s wrists and tying them to the headboard.

“Um, Kacchan? What are you doing?”

“Do I have to grab a second one to shut your damn trap? Stop asking questions.”

“N-no! Sorry!”

After Katsuki finished tying off a secure knot, he furrowed his brow and placed his head in his hand. He sighed. “So, I lied, but I know you’re not going to hate this, so you really don’t have anything to be mad about.”

Izuku started to shake nervously as Katsuki climbed up on top of him. “I know you can free yourself if you really can’t take it anymore, so… just do that if you need, alright?”

“I-I still don’t know what you’re talking abahahAHA! W-wahahahahait!”

“No can do.”

“Whyhyhyhyhy!?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just… just try to enjoy it. I know you like this anyways.”

Katsuki could feel a fire light inside of him as soon as got a taste of that delicious laughter. He hated how much he liked doing this, but he knew he’d never get this urge to go away unless he acted on it. Besides, out of all the possible victims, he knew this one wouldn’t mind.

“Ehehe pfftahahahaha! S-stahahahahahap!”

“Oh come on, you can take it.”

Katsuki dug into Izuku’s ribcage, sporadically traveling up into his underarms. Izuku wiggled back and forth beneath Katsuki, but he really couldn’t move much with his arms restrained and his legs trapped. As Katsuki fully succumbed to his desires, his focused, mildly disgruntled expression slowly turned into an enraptured leer.

“aaAAAAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! K-KACCHAHAHAHAHAHAN! NAHAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! PLEHEHEHEASE!” Izuku screamed as Katsuki dug into his hips.

God, his laughter was intoxicating.

“AIIEEEHEHEYAHAHAHAHAHA IHIHI- *snort* I CAHAHAHA- *hic* KAHACCHAHAHAA!!”

Katsuki reluctantly stopped for a moment when Izuku’s laughter went silent. Izuku panted, dazed, buzzing with a leftover tingly feeling.

“Wh-why,” he started, “Why are you doing this?”

“I-” Katsuki paused. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Are you sure?” Izuku questioned, gazing up at him with those big, green doe eyes.

Katsuki hesitated a second too long. The slightest hint of a rosy hue spread across his cheeks as he said, “I just… I get these urges sometimes. I don’t know where they come from or why they happen, but it makes me want to… Argh! It makes me wanna tickle someone so badly.”

Izuku’s eyes widened.

“And I can’t get rid of it! I can’t get rid of it until I, y’know, actually do it. You happened to be walking by right as it was getting to a point where I just couldn’t stand it anymore, so I…”

“I get it.”

“You- You do?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well… Good. Now don’t go blabbing about it to anyone, alright?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.”

…

“So, a-are you done, or…?”

Katsuki looked away. His palm crackled like a firecracker as his face turned a shade redder. Finally, he closed his fist and asked, “Can you take a bit more?”

Izuku took a deep breath.

“Go for it.”

Chapter 2 - Heady Pursuit

Summary: Denki overhears what happened yesterday and gets extremely jealous. So, what else is there to do than to provoke Bakugou until he gets what he wants?

What on earth is all that noise about? Denki thought. Bored, he decided to investigate. He took the elevator from the third to the fourth floor, where he thought he heard the ruckus coming from.

“Of course it’s Bakugou,” he said to himself as he walked closer to the blonde’s dorm.

“EEEYAHAHA! NOOHOHOHOooaAAHHAHAHAHA! NOT THE FEHEHEET!! PLEASE KACCHAAAAHAHAHAHAAHA!!”

…Feet? Is that Deku?

“IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAHAKE IT!!” Denki heard Izuku scream.

“You said you could take it, now take it!” came Katsuki’s reply.

“IHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!!!”

“No shit it tickles, dumbass!”

Denki’s face went beet red. So that’s what they were doing. He should have guessed—Mr. Smiley can’t even make Deku laugh that loud. Denki could feel static building up in his hair. He shook it off and marched back towards the elevator.

Nothing was working. Denki had been dropping hints all day, making playful remarks, stretching in front of Katsuki so that his midriff was showing, even laying in his lap (and promptly getting told to “fuck off”). But he had to keep trying.

“Oiiiii Kacchan!”

“The hell d’you want?”

“Want? I don’t want anything, I’m just saying hello!”

“Yeah, sure.”

Crap! Was he really that obvious?

“A-anyway,” Denki continued, “Kirishima and I are going to the gym later, if you want to join?”

“Nah, already went.”

“Oh, okay! In that case, would you mind helping me with this new move I’ve been working on? I need someone to practice it with, and-”

“Do it with Kirishima.”

“But it’s up in the air! Kirishima can only help me practice stuff on the ground! It’s called the uh, something or other volt maneuver!”

“You’re insane.”

“Oh c’mon, pleeeaaase?”

“No.”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”

“No.”

“At least let me show you! I get a running start like this,” Denki explained, running in place, “Jump up real high, do a couple flips and then come crashing down with my arms out, like this!”

As Denki whipped out his arms and pointed his finger guns towards Katsuki, he “accidentally” let out a small bolt of electricity (only about as strong as the electrostatic shocks you get on a particularly dry day), zapping him in the arm.

“...Oops.”

“DUNCE FACE—”

“AAAHHHHH!” Denki shrieked and bolted.

Katsuki was hot on his tail, and Denki could feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he scrambled around the common room, knowing that he could only evade the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight for so long.

“COME HERE, YOU BASTARD!”

“NOOO!”

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!”

Denki decided his best bet was to make a run for the front door.

“ONLY IF YOU CATCH-WaAHH!” Denki yelped as Katsuki swiftly tackled him into the grass.

Katsuki had him pinned. “What do you have to say for yourself, haah?”

“Uhm…”

“Nothing?”

Denki pursed his lips and shook his head.

Katsuki sighed. “You know what? I’m feeling nice today. I’m gonna let you off the hook.”

“What? Why!?”

“...Why do you sound so upset by that?”

“I-I’m not upset, haha, y-yay!” Denki stuttered, sweating nervously.

“Seriously, what has gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Oh, h-have I? I hadn’t noticed…”

The two stared at each other for a moment.

“S-so are you gonna let me go?”

“Not until you tell me what’s up.”

“N-nothing’s up! Nothing at all!”

“Not gonna fess up? Good thing I know how to make losers like you talk.”

Denki saw an unmistakable glint in Katsuki’s eye. He shivered.

“W-wait, BakugAAHAHAHA!”

Katsuki wasted no time in shoving his hands right up into Denki’s underarms, vibrating his fingers against him.

“EEHEHE STAHAHAHAHA!” Denki laughed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Nuh-uh, you asked for this.”

Katsuki was thorough—he fluttered his fingers against Denki’s ears and neck, pinched up and down his sides, skillfully rubbed his thumbs into his ribs, massaged his hips, and even squeezed his thighs—constantly making him jump and yelp in surprise. Finally, he reached back to squeeze above and skitter his fingers underneath Denki’s knees.

“AAAAIIIEEHEHE NONONONONO NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! PLEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHO!”

Denki laughed and laughed and laughed, banging his fist on the ground. He thrashed about as much as he could, making a futile attempt to escape. He was at his limit.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT, ALRIHAHAHAHAIGHT! I’LL TALK I’LL TAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHA!!”

“Took you long enough. You have more stamina than I thought.”

“I- ehehe… I wanted, I wanted you to, to t-tickle me.”

“...You’re kidding.”

“P-please don’t be mad!”

“I’m not mad.”

“Oh, thank God…”

“You could have just asked, y’know?”

“I-I didn’t know how you’d react…”

“So you decided to annoy me all day instead?”

Denki nodded.

Katsuki sighed. “For future reference, I’d be more than happy to take you up on that request. Any time you want.”

#tickling #tickle fic #ss2k23 #squealing santa 2k23 #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #deku #denki kaminari #bakudeku #kamibaku #ler!bakugou #lee!deku #lee!midoriya #lee!kaminari #bnha #princess scrawlings

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kiritkl · 4 months

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Ticklish Massage

Lee!Midoriya | Ler!Kirishima Foot-focused tickling

Summary: Midoriya complains about his feet aching from training, so Kirishima decides to offer up some help. However, Kirishima's curiosity gets the best of him.

“A what..?’

Midoriya raised a brow.

“A massage! You said your feet hurt, right?” Kirishima gleefully replied, a grin on his face.

The green-headed boy thought for a moment, then soon after agreed. After all, how could he pass it up? His soles ached like hell from training so hard - he needed a remedy, quick.

“Alrighty, give ‘em here!” Kirishima held his hands out, signaling to his friend that he was ready to go.

Midoriya thanked him before placing his ankles in his hands. The redhead nodded, “No worries! I’m always here to help, man!”

Kirishima began the massage by suddenly drilling his two thumbs into the top pads of Midoriya’s left foot. He moved his thumbs in circular movements, completely unaware of how it was affecting his friend.

Midoriya nearly bit his tongue trying to keep his laughter inside his mouth. His cheeks held bubbles inside of them, ready to pop and release all of his cute giggles at any moment.

Kirishima glanced over at Midoriya, to see him gripping onto the floor’s carpet and mending his lips shut. He sensed something was off, but continued with his massage.

The boy’s next destination was Midoriya’s arch. He again, used two thumbs to circularly massage into the rather smooth skin. This time, when he looked over at Midoriya, he spotted his fists banging on the floor, as his lips trembled.

“Somethin’ wrong, Midoriya..?” Kirishima worriedly asked, not putting two and two together. He kept massaging Midoriya’s arch, not a care in the world.

“Oh- N…noho-nothing…” Midoriya replied, letting a singular giggle slip. He hoped that Kirishima didn’t hear it, otherwise, he’d probably realize what was going on.

“Oh…ya sure?” Kirishima brushed a finger against Midoriya’s toes - hoping he could prove a past suspicion.

Midoriya giggled, throwing his hands out to try and stop Kirishima’s finger from going anywhere else. However, Kirishima had already pulled the boy’s ankles into an armlock.

“Ohoho, I knew it! Our little friend is ticklish on his feet! How adorable!” Kirishima teased, fluttering a few fingers against both of Midoriya’s soles.

“No, I’m not!- Ah- stahahahap!” Midoriya chuckled, covering his face. He was afraid this would happen!

“Oh, c’mon…it’s alright to be ticklish,” Kirishima replied, scribbling a finger beneath Midoriya’s toes. He knew how ticklish his friend was from past experiences, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

“Wait!- NohOHOHoh! I cahan’t tahahAHAHEHEhehahake ihit!” Midoriya squealed, thrashing his legs around to no avail. Kirishima’s grip was too strong - he wasn’t escaping anytime soon.

If it weren’t for Kirishima’s love of cute laughter and giggles, this would’ve been done from the start. But how could he resist hearing Midoriya’s sweet laughter?! A simple answer - he couldn’t.

Kirishima raked five of his fingers up and down Midoriya’s feet, starting at the balls, swiftly moving up to the pads, and then making a stop at the toes to tease them. Then, moving back down the pads and so forth.

Midoriya was done for. He was basically howling with laughter, trying to reach Kirishima’s back to punch him or something. P.S., it didn’t work. It only gave Kirishima more of a reason to tickle him.

“Y’know, a little birdie told me that your thighs were ticklish…” Kirishima hummed. He looked over at Midoriya, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Whohoho tohold you thahat?!”

“Why’re you still laughing? I’m not even ticklin’ you!” Kirishima chuckled. “Hm, maybe I should check your thighs just to make sure.”

Midoriya yelped when Kirishima pounced on his waist, straddling him. He sat facing Midoriya’s thighs so that he could have full access to the supposedly ticklish area. He quickly began to squeeze the tops of his knees, causing him to writhe around, desperate to escape this ticklish nightmare.

Kirishima then pinched the insides of Midoriya’s thighs. This drove Midoriya crazy, to the point where his face turned red and a singular tear went down his cheek.

Kirishima turned around to see this and giggled. “Too ticklish for your own good, huh?” He asked, getting off of the boy and helping him up on his feet.

Midoriya rubbed his soles on the carpet. He still felt like he was being tickled by Kirishima.

The redhead gave Midoriya a pat on the back and offered him an actual foot massage if he was still hurting. The boy was smart and decided to do it himself. He knew Kirishima would pull something sneaky again.

#kiritkl #lee!midoriya #lee!deku #ler!kirishima #tickle talk #tickle fic #tickle thoughts #tickle content #male tickling #tickle art #sfw tickling community #mha tickle #mha tickling #my hero academia

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fluffyweeby · 1 year

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Could I politely request ler!dad might and Lee!deku

Of course! Some DadMight for u!

As always thanks for the request and I hope u had an amazing Christmas and New Year!🎄 💜

#tickle art #ask #mha fanart #mha tickles #lee!midoriya #ler!all might #lee!deku

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infrequent-creator · 7 months

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DAY 5: Disguise

Dabi saw a little hero dressed up as him for halloweeen & decided to teach him a lesson ~ 😈

((I’ve had this idea forever & I’m glad I finally drew it!))

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wreckingtickles · 5 months

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Midoriya & Mx Pastry (NSFW)

In which being a cinnamon roll backfires.

This is very NSFW (and makes it clear I know nothing about pastry)

The Auction Masterlist

Words: 5,991

Midoriya’s panting produced a strange echo. In total darkness, he was recuperating from the brutal tickling he’d withstood that far. He almost wished he had Kaminari’s wet-tissue-paper resilience, instead of the oodles of stamina he’d trained for.

But right now, at least, he wasn’t being tickled, though he knew that would change soon. He couldn’t see anything, but he could tell that he was lying on some sort of porous surface, soft and squishy, and very comfortable. His inability to roll over informed him that he was bound in a reverse Y (arms together above his head, legs apart), though unlike before, he could wiggle his toes, a freedom he made full use of to get circulation back into them and wrinkle and stretch his soles to lessen the awful phantom tickles that still lingered on them.

He was still wearing nothing but his underwear, and his Quirk was still inaccessible. From the way his steadying breaths bounced back to him, he could tell that he was in some kind of domed room, large but not massive.

As he recovered, he set his brain into motion to figure a way out of this. What did the announcer keep repeating? That none of what was happening to them was real, and Deku was very much inclined to agree, based on what he’d seen. Was it a hallucination? An illusion? A dream?

SCHWING!

Light flooded the space as it suddenly found itself without a ceiling or walls, dazzling Midoriya.

“Welcome to baking with Mx Pastry!” he heard from high above him. Having grown accustomed to the light, Midoriya’s eyes took in a very unexpected view.

The surface he was lying on was some kind of massive roll at the center of a huge plate, and what was holding him in place was glaze that had solidified around his wrists and ankles. Anything past that was extremely blurry, but he clearly made out some kind of gargantuan shadow, almost entirely clad in white, towering above him, having just removed the humongous bell-shaped lid that had kept the plate covered until then.

“Our cinnamon roll is almost ready,” boomed the genderless voice again. “But the finishing touches are my favorite.”

“HEY!” yelled Midoriya at the top of his lungs. “Where is everyone else?”

But no response came – maybe whatever that titanic entity was, they couldn’t hear him. And Midoriya pondered whether there actually was someone else in the first place, and if the other heroes hadn’t been figments of his imagination. If nothing was real, that felt like a pretty good guess. So he could stop worrying about them and focus on himself.

“At this point, you can brush the roll with the egg wash mixture,” proclaimed the blurry colossus, and Midoriya didn’t have to wonder what they meant, because two dripping pastry brushes flew towards him. One proceeded to lather his left pec, while the other dragged its thick, rubber bristles up and down his right ribs.

“Hehey!” chided Midoriya. “N-Noho mohore tihihickling!!”

But the brushes paid him no mind, continuing to apply the warm “egg wash” – it didn’t smell like anything, so it probably wasn’t a real ingredient any more than Midoriya himself was an actual dessert – in their ticklish way. When they were done with the first pass, they switched places – from pec to ribs and from ribs to pec.

The soft, wet bristles felt funny when they danced over his nipples, and there were enough similarities for them to call to mind two eager tongues, but it was their passes up and down his ribs that had Midoriya giggling especially hard. Not like he was trying to resist – a lifetime of tickles, ranging from playful, to humiliating, to vindictive, had taught him that holding back his laughter was a waste of energy.

Even so, he couldn’t help protesting when the two brushes moved to his toned stomach, morphing his giggling into full-blown laughter, “Hahahaha! N-NOHO!! HAOHAHAHAH NAHAAHHA NOHOHT THEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!”

Absolutely any method worked on Midoriya, that much he’d resigned himself to. He was just ticklish all over, and very ticklish at that. Bakugo had him beat in certain spots and certain conditions (that was an actual note he’d included in his file about the former bully’s Quirk), but Midoriya was a walking giggle factory. And what might have been weirder, he was more afraid of feathers than wriggling fingers.

It didn’t seem to be very common – it certainly wasn’t among his classmates, most of whom, from what Deku had been able to observe, were more susceptible to the kind of hard tickling that burrows into your nerves, excavating mirth from deep inside you. But as for Midoriya, a feather could make him cry. He knew that firsthand. Maybe it was because a feather actually covered a larger surface area than tools that applied more pressure, and to Midoriya, depth and breadth were equally as bad (the hairbrushes from before, which covered both bases, almost killed him, but those seemed to work well on everyone).

Wait, thinking about those brushes… oh no, could that same lotion be what the brushes were spreading?

But the two brushes converging towards his lower belly ripped him from his elucubrations, as his washboard stomach provided the perfect canvas for them to paint on, spacious enough that Deku could feel every single bristle as it was dragged across his oiled skin.

“HAHAHHAAAHAH!!! HEHEHEHEHEEY!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAP HAHAHAHHA HHAHAHAAHHA HAHAHAAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!”

The brushes moved to his sides, going from the top of his hips (the most ticklish spot on his body, and, luckily, the only one that required a harder touch to become truly excruciating) to his oiled-up ribs. Shivers crawled up Deku’s back and into the back of his head even as his laughter dropped to giggling once again: light touches on his sides felt so weird, both unbearable and pleasurable, somehow.

“H-hahahe HAHA hahahaheheheheeh hahahaahahaha!”

But that didn’t last long – far less than the ministrations his abs had gotten, Midoriya would have wagered – as, without warning, when the brushes started their umpteenth track up his flanks, they kept going, gliding across his already lubricated ribs and into his armpits.

To Midoriya, that was the tickling equivalent of waking from being tossed in cold water. “NAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! NANANAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHHAHA HAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAAH STHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Despite knowing it was both futile and a waste of breath, Midoriya couldn’t keep himself from begging – it just tickled too much! Those damned brushes seemed to have been designed specifically to make him wish he could crawl out of his skin… and he surmised that was exactly the case.

The brushes alternated short and quick horizontal swipes that moved up and down the hollows and vertical licks that went from Midoriya’s bicep to the top of his ribs, and back up again.

The bound hero was just a spectacle to behold: each quick swipe caused him to whip his head in that direction, emerald curls twirling like a dancer’s skirt, so he was constantly shaking his head as if to say “no” – an involuntary prohibition, but one he whole-heartedly supported.

The horizontal swipes were asynchronous, with one starting its motion as soon as the other ended it, so it almost looked like they were playing a game of ping-pong, the table being Midoriya’s horribly sensitive underarms, the ball the uninterrupted staccato of his hysterical yelps. “HE! HE! HA! NO! HA! HA!”

When a vertical lick was unexpectedly thrown in, the hiccupping downbeat-and-upbeat briefly coalescing into a stream of forced mirth. “HA! HA! NEH! HA! HO! HA! HAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Shortly after introducing both techniques, the brushes began switching back and forth between them, making sure they were never using the same at the same time. And they added a third one that unfailingly caused the pitch of Midoriya’s laughter to shoot up, endlessly circling the outer ridges of his hollows.

“HAHHAHA HAHHA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

The fact that Midoriya’s pits were completely slick with lotion, which had already copiously spilled onto his chest and the dessert he was resting on, did not cause the brushes to reconsider their target one bit – on the contrary.

“HAHAHAAHAA!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAAAA!! HAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAAH HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Midoriya’s hysterical shrieking was due to a fourth technique, wherein a brush would suddenly venture into the very center of his underarm and twirl there, its bristles spinning and spanning the entirety of the soaked hollow. The hero’s shrieks when one of that would innocently pirouette and single-handedly shatter his mind were almost pitiful.

“HAHAHAH AHAHAHA!!! HAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! HAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAAHAHA!!!”

Each of the four techniques received its dues, paid in hysterical laughter, ticklish tears, pointless flailing, and perspiration, before the brushes withdrew momentarily, leaving a flushed Midoriya to gasp for his life – his body was convinced he’d just run a marathon, and the helplessly sensitive hero himself felt like the tickling had gone on about that long.

But whatever respite had followed the departure of the brushes from his pits was extremely short-lived, because the brushes instantly plunged into his feet.

“NANANNANANAAHHH!!!! LEHEHEHET ME REHEHEHESSSSSTHH!!! GHAHAHAHA!!! IHIH NENEHEHEHEHEAD A BREEAAAAAHAHAKKKKKHAHAHAHAHAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH!!!”

Needless to say, no break was given, no quarter was brooked. The brushes lavished his ticklish soles with unwavering ticklish attention, merciless and efficient, especially his arches and toes, or so Midoriya thought.

The slippery, flexible bristles could get anywhere – between his toes and the wrinkles produced by his scrunching, they followed his feet as he flailed – that, being able to twist his feet and curl his toes, was the only mercy he’d be afforded, and it was no mercy at all – because that small freedom had been only granted to that the tickling could go on even longer, so that no light-headedness would keep the tear-stained hero from feeling its full effects; and eventually, despite the constant injection of energy the tickling administered to his nervous system, Midoriya’s legs began to tire: his feet stopped flailing, his toes stopped curling, and the squat, nerve-ridden expanses were finally ripe for the brushes to ravage undisturbed, the most patient conquerors.

“HAHAAAAAAA!! HAHAHAAH AHHAHAHAHA…!! HAHAHAHHAAH… HAHAHAHAHAHAH!! PLEHEHHAHHAHAAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

That the tickling would get even more impossible to take when Midoriya was already that spent, that the increased vulnerability of his broad soles and small toes would be exploited so thoroughly at that stage, was a sheer act of cruelty. And Midoriya didn’t even suspect why the merciless pastry chef wluld be so methodical about leeching his energy and resistance, but he would find out, too soon – and yet also far too late, he would have thought, for the brushes seemed to take an excruciatingly long time to get their fill of wreaking havoc upon his feet.

“HHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!! NAHAHAHA NANANAHAHAHAHAAH!! STHAHAHAHAHAHAAHPP!! HAHAHAHAH I CAHAHAHAHHAANTTHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!”

When the paintbrushes finally, finally set about to painting his ankles and shins, the reprieve was supposed to be fleeting; however, unbeknownst to Midoriya, his cuteness saved him, because as he twitched and giggled from the lingering sensation of the brushes, he hiccupped.

A single leap of his diaphragm that gave Mx Pastry pause – it wanted to hear more, and that allowed it to fully take in the view. His upper body and feet fully coated in honey-colored lotion, much of Midoriya’s skin was flushed, his unruly hair wet with sweat that had mingled with the copious ticklish tears that still poured past his fluttering eyelids, his petite, muscular frame inflating and deflating with deep, hiccup-broken breaths, a disjointed harmony of both form and sound… Mx Pastry had never seen someone look so broken from its ministrations. It didn’t exist, so whether it had broken countless others or none was purely a matter of the mind, but there was something about that ticklish hero, that irreconcilable juxtaposition of vulnerability and strength bound together with absurd sensitivity that was so incredibly endearing.

It listened to him for so, so long, the brushes lingering on his shins, like one would a song in a different language, ignoring his words, only taking in the sound of hiccupping begging.

“P-pleah- hic! I- I cahn’ – hic! can’t tahake any- hic! more…”

Midoriya’s pleas, which came out of him without any real expectations, had bought him precious seconds, even minutes, before the brushes crawled up his thighs, renewing his hiccupping fit, but even though his giggling turned into laughter as soon as a brush got a little too eager and increased its pace, Mx Pastry was still going extremely easy on him, even contenting itself with halting the brushes altogether after only a couple of minutes to take in the adorable, close-eyed hiccupping again.

But as Mx Pastry knew very well, too much of a sweet thing makes it cloying; so, as soon as Midoriya’s breathing began to even out again, as soon as he dared glance up through his damp eyelids, his tormentor warned, “Make sure not to leave any dry spots.”

And just like the king, Midoriya realized he was naked. He hadn’t felt his underwear being pulled down or ripped off, yet his nudity was as undeniable as the sensation of slightly cooler air on his groin, which had grown damp with perspiration from all his thrashing and the forced mirth he’d expelled.

In his high school years, Midoriya used to feel embarrassed about his nakedness – he knew he wasn’t the biggest guy down there, and being below average used to worry him quite a bit. However, as he’d begun to wade into adulthood, he’d come to accept it without much of a fuss: it was just one part of him, he had a lot more going on for him. But currently, his apprehension wasn’t due to his size so much as the why his underwear had come off; and he wasn’t left to wonder for a long time.

Midoriya had thought the brushes felt excruciating on his feet, and utterly unbearable in his underarms; he now felt almost naïve that he’d somehow assumed it couldn’t get worse, because as soon as the brushes began to trace his V-line, like novices learning the English alphabet, he all but screamed.

“GGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! HAHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAAAAAAAAGAGAGAGHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOHAHAHAHAHAT THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Oh, how silly he felt to have felt relieved that the brushes had no thumbs to squeeze his hips! Because just a little below, that treasure trove of sensitivity he’d known nothing about was hiding in plain sight… sort of.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAH HAHAHAHAH HAHAHHA AHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! I CAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAANT TAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAKE HIHIHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

Midoriya was acutely aware of every single droplet of liquid traveling down his inguinal crease, dripping down his balls, taint, pooling around his buttocks… which should give the measure of how intensely he felt the two implements that were actually supposed to do the tickling, all too happy to keep swishing back and forth, up and down, even side to side occasionally on the railway track of his waist and below, and if they had to slide their dozens of supple, oily bristles across their victim’s member, so be it.

Midoriya had tried to protest the first few times that had happened, but after it had sunk in that it made no difference, he had almost come to welcome those intrusive touches, as for the briefest moment, he felt something other than mirth attempting to burst out of a too small container… well, less of it.

“HAHAHHAHAHA!!! PLEEAAHAHAHAH!! IHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAAHAAAAA!! AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! I’M AHHAHAHAHAHHA!!!”

What felt the most unnatural was the silence that surrounded his broken statements of surrender. The lack of teasing. He didn’t miss it, but he was accustomed to it – the only person to have ever tickled him in silence was Bakugo, one time he was especially mad. It really drove home that there was no one to appeal to.

Midoriya thought he would have given anything just to get those brushes to go somewhere else; yet when that happened, well past the point he thought he’d be able to endure, he laugh-grunted in protest, because the dripping bristles targeted his dick next.

It wasn’t horribly ticklish, no, most of the giggles that kept spilling out of Midoriya’s mouth were a mixture of phantom tickles and anticipation for when it would – inevitably – get worse once again. But the brushes swished up and down, ensuring that one would always be working his head, and each time they came down, they had to travel a little farther up to reach it, as both the previous and current localized attention was having an effect on Midoriya. Adorable as he was, he was still a red-blooded young man, and those things, moist and warm and supple, kind of felt like tongues, except far more… reaching?

“Haha… ha… N-no you ca-an’t! d-do thaht… That’s… ah!”

Protest though he may, the feeling wasn’t horrible, and there was no denying the reddening skin, all the way up to his cheeks, nor the increase in the available ticklish area, or the fact that only a couple of minutes in, it had acquired an incline. No, indeed there was no denying the hitch in his breath.

That stimulation changed Midoriya’s outlook. It wasn’t so bad, no, but either way, none of that was real, right? It was surreal. He wasn’t being unfaithful or humiliated. It wasn’t happening. So maybe it wouldn’t have been the worst thing if they didn’t stop.

Midoriya would be left to ponder the reverse of that proposition, however, because the brushes had distracted him enough that he didn’t notice the gargantuan spatula closing in until it scraped under the dessert, flipping it over. Midoriya screamed when he saw the plate close in, he couldn’t use his Qurk, the weight of the roll would crush him…!

But instead of lethal pressure, what Midoriya felt was a pull, dragging him through the spongy layers of the dessert, until he resurfaced at the top, restrained in the exact same position, except for the fact he was now lying face-down on the soft surface. And he was a little uncomfortable, because his hard dick was underneath him, pointing towards his feet, just barely poking out from under his balls.

He felt even more vulnerable than before.

“Hey, umh, t-that’s enough, can we c-call it quits?” he tentatively asks the massive shape up above.

The dripping paintbrushes re-materialized, hovering just above his eyeline. A few drops of liquid splattering on the dessert in front of him alerted him to their presence, so he tried to crane his head back and up further, but he could only barely make out their bristles.

“If this is a dream, umh, I’m ready to wake up now,” he announced, his voice noticeably higher than before.

A drop of lotion fell on his nape, causing him to yelp. “P-Please, I don’t know how much more I can taHEKE!” he squeaked when he felt the brushes begin to paint his back, starting at his shoulders and making their way towards the small of his back.

Like the rest of him, his back was surprisingly toned, with sculpted ridges where one may have expected an even surface; too bad the paintbrushes seemed to delight in sweeping along those ridges specifically. That was how Midoriya discovered that the area under his scapulae was pretty sensitive, but not enough to cut off his begging.

When they did want him to “eep!” and “nah!” mid-sentence, all they had to do was slip into the ridge of his spine and travel towards his sacrum, which, in spite of the warm oil being liberally applied to his skin, never failed to cause goosebumps to appear on his skin.

And if they wanted to cut off his begging altogether, all they needed to do was take a drip down his sides, lingering on his hips, and his words would grow incoherent as they were punctuated with screams of laughter. “No no no no, don’t go there, don’t go thehEHEHEHHEHEHEHEH!!! GHAHAHA HAAAHAAHHAAH AHHAHAHAHA HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!”

Not being able to see what those brushes were doing, but only feeling it when it happened, made the sensation even more intense; but what happened next had Midoriya wishing they’d never left his sides alone, because the next time they sauntered down his back, they didn’t stop at his sacrum, but began to swirl against the rising mound of his apple bottom.

“AH!”

It tickled, like everything did, but that wasn’t the main reason behind Midoriya’s sudden contortion, his head shooting up, getting the matted hair out of his bulging eyes: no, it was the unwelcome novelty of it. It felt a bit like when he fell too hard on his ass, but instead of that sour pain that spreads from the very bottom of one’s back and lingers at the back of the throat, it turned, as it traveled up Midoriya’s nervous system, into a force of coerced mirth, one that was all the more prominent due to how intimate it felt. Not even Ochako, Kirishima, and certainly not Bakugo, had ever tickled him there, so he had no idea it would be sensitive.

“Noho hahahahahaha ihihit’s too wehird!! Nohahahaat thehehHEEEHEHHEHEHEHEHERE!!!”

His giggling request shot up in pitch when a second pair of brushes came home to roost on the very spot where his bubble cheeks flattened into his thighs, a spot that had only ever been for sitting on and Ochako’s flirtatious squeezes in the least appropriate moments.

“HAHAHAHAH!! NONONOHAHAHAHAHAH!!! TwoisenoughtwoisenouohohHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

But Midoriya’s slip into bargaining didn’t deter the extra sets of bristles from beginning their wondrous journey from halfway down his butt to the middle of his thighs, and back again.

Even as he cackled his butt off – or so he would have wished – Midoriya’s analytical mind didn’t shut off: he realized that if a second pair of brushes had been added, it was because they were there to stay. In fact, soon, all too soon, the gentle, tentative licks of a third pair made themselves felt at the very tops of the twin mounds, proceeding to lacquer the two sexy turkeys.

It felt too weird. And too tickly to boot. Despite Midoriya having seemingly accepted none of that was really happening, and the fact that even so, he wasn’t in control, he couldn’t help the hiccupping pleas that burst from his leaps in-between hysterical peals.

“HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOHAHAHAHAHAH!!! SO WEIHEHEHEHEHHEHERD!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHAHAH AHHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!”

Midoriya was a modern, liberated young man. Having largely accepted that he was someone’s figment, he had dominated his own sense of shame as he quivered under the shameless touches. But even his eyes bulged when he felt more wet bristles feather his crack, and another set tease his taint and the base of his scrotum. He would have felt a lot more embarrassed if so much of his mind hadn’t been crushed by the increasingly unbearable tickling. At least it was no longer just his diaphragm performing incredible feats of contraction and expansion.

“AH!!!! NONONONONOHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! NOHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAANYTHIHIHIHING BUTTHAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAHAHAAAHHAHA! OH!! HAHAAHAAHAHAHAH- HAHA!”

Midoriya couldn’t get any redder, or any twitchier. He was already crying ticklish tears, his pulse was already feverish. But his laughter did change slightly, with sharp intakes of breath that almost, almost paused the stream of mirth every now and then, as the most secretive pleasure receptors were triggered by the frayed kisses of the brushes.

Mx Pastry looked down at their preparation, noticing the onset of the subtlest ambivalence. So it decided to put its finger on the kitchen scale, which meant conjuring one more brush, a softer, thinner one.

Midoriya didn’t notice it at first, because it went for the only spot on his body that wasn’t ticklish; even so, it began to patiently work its magic, such that, amidst the hysteria, blood began to answer the bristles’ summoning, and reverberating with the feathering of his butt and taint, the brush working the hero’s tip got him fully erect.

It took a long, long time for the brush to work its magic, but Mx Pastry was nothing if not patient, teasing the arousal out of Midoriya’s tickle-tortured form one gram at a time. But it went no further. Not of its own volition, no: in spite of the physical toll Mx Pastry’s baking had already extracted, some errant strand of the hero’s will had latched onto a single resolution: he would not cum. Not while he was being tickled beyond tears.

Mx Pastry wondered if his stubbornness wasn’t due to him knowing what would happen afterwards; either way, once it had its fill of that inner tug-of-war, it decided that that aberration of such a seasoned lee’s will would not stand. So it sent two more brushes to ravage Midoriya’s upturned soles.

Was it punishment, or was it a tactic to break his concentration? Midoriya wasn’t able to ponder it as the bristles blindsided him, fast and frenzied, no finesse, just a gleefully sadistic onslaught; but as soon as he felt it, as soon as the balance tipped, the well-worn lee hit another valley of resignation, of sinking unquestioningly into the stimulation, fully consigning himself to his tormentor’s will, not even because it would make it end it sooner, it was somewhere between resignation and acceptance.

It didn’t take long.

It was less an explosion and more a rising tide, as if the arousal each pass of a brush had painstakingly painted on was being scraped off by the very same instruments, the tickling focused on – even almost in – his toned backside morphing into pleasure. Midoriya gasped and froze, rendered speechless by the brushes working his scrotum and crack, as the heat left him.

The brushes withdrew, actually allowing him to slump on the surface of the dessert, too worn-out to question what had just come to pass. He didn’t even fight when he felt himself sink into the dessert once more, reappearing on the other side, still naked, glistening with sweat, panting, but now face-up, as if to force him to confront the sight of his spent cock, now resting on his abs and pointing at him like an accusatory finger.

“Don’t worry if some of the filling leaks out, there is a lot more where that came from!” boomed the cheerful voice.

And as he recovered, Midoriya felt an emotion he wasn’t that prone to: fury. It was not rational, the reception of offense, just a flash under the skin; but then he noticed the two dozen or so of dripping brushes floating around him.

“Add a second layer, don’t be shy with it!”

And panic set it. “No no no no I’m coated, I’m coHOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAAHHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAAAHAAHAH!!!! ……………………………………. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA-! ……………………………………………………………… HAHAHAHAHAHAH……………………………….!!!”

Too many. Always too many, but far in excess after the climax had brought his nerves closer to the surface. Pits, check. Sides, check. V-line, feet, abs, check. And also his thighs, ribs, chest, even his neck and collarbone, and, needless to say, his groin, the brushes were everywhere. They were done pretending they wanted something other than to break him, and they waited for the post-orgasm hypersensitivity to do it.

When Midoriya crawled out of silent laughter, it was because a lucky brush had stumbled upon a secluded cluster of nerves that reset his chucklebox for a few moments before sending it back into hyperdrive. Begging was a thing of the past, but it was all too intense for his practiced acceptance. But for there to have been cognitive dissonance, he should have retained the ability for cognition.

He did come again – more than once, in fact. The brushes tormenting his pits and every single spot on his groin were far less shy now, and far more numerous. He didn’t even register the arousal build up, it was a purely mechanical affair that broke off the relentless tickling with a few waves of pleasure, where all that was happening to his body suddenly transformed into something stupendous, like his every inch of skin was erogenous… until the pleasure ebbed, and only madness remained.

And just when he was about to reach the far-off limits of his immense stamina, the brushes withdrew. Midoriya certainly didn’t notice, giggling, coughing, hiccupping, and quivering still for a long time afterwards; he barely noticed the lights shift as the dessert he was resting on was placed in an oven.

It took him a long time to notice that the warmth he was feeling wasn’t just due to the energy expenditure, and his analytical mind began to reform around the central question, before dismissing it: whatever it was, it would tickle. But his curiosity cut through the horror. It probably wouldn’t tickle per se, it was meant to enhance his sensitivity.

The oil was still there – it wasn’t meant only to lubricate the brushes, he now realized: the heat kept his blood flowing near the surface, enhancing his sensitivity, and the oil would keep seeping into his skin, keeping it attrition-free for whatever would come next.

Midoriya thought about demanding that it all stopped, even though he knew it would be futile, but the boulder that had seemingly lodged in his throat wouldn’t let him. Such peculiar rules in that space, he wasn’t thirsty or sore from his bonds, and his throat didn’t really hurt, but he was nonetheless worn out and he could feel the strain all that screaming and laughing had taken on his throat, even as he’d resumed hiccupping.

But his stoic awareness would soon be shaken, because it wasn’t long before the dessert was removed from the oven, and Midoriya was greeted with a bunch of powder being dumped on him, from the neck down.

“Dust with icing sugar to taste…” instructed Mx Pastry, “and it’s ready to serve!”

Dozens of forks materialized around Midoriya, forming a terrifying circle around him. Their dull points weren’t meant to pierce, no.

“And enjoy!”

The forks bowed, pointing straight at Midoriya’s captive body…

“WAIT!” yelled Midoriya, and the forks actually halted their advance. What was surprising was that his hadn’t been a plea, but an order. Midoriya himself wouldn’t have been able to tell where that sense of authority had come from – perhaps he’d simply been tickled so thoroughly that he was reminded he was no longer anyone’s victim. He might not be the most physically imposing hero, and he might be naked and restrained and tickled to orgasm a couple of times or more, but he was still packed with muscle, and he had a steadfast heart.

It would have been a blow to his ego to discover why Mx Pastry had actually stopped the forks: a pre-established plot, with the ancillary motivation of it finding Midoriya’s sudden switch simply too adorable.

“This has… been going on… long enough,” he stated, unable to prevent his strained voice from cracking. “I want this dream, or whatever it is, to be over.” If it’s not real, my will should be enough, right? reasoned Midoriya. “No more tickling.”

But he failed to account it might not have been his own fantasy he was existing in.

Still, the forks hovered at a healthy distance from him. Had he done it? He pulled at his bonds, but his Quirk was still inaccessible. As he twisted his right leg, he tried to rub the side of his foot against the surface he was lying on, as it itched a little bit. The relief was immediate… but the space between his pinkie and ring toes had also started to itch, and that was more difficult to scratch. And his left heel too. And actually, his thigh too, no, both, and his midsection, no, it wasn’t a circulation problem, it was…

Midoriya’s eyes bulged as he realized what the icing sugar he’d been dusted with actually was. “T-take it off,” he demanded, but his voice had grown unsure.

But the forks just hovered in place as the itch spread to every visible area of his body below the neck, like oil that slowly expands to fill a pan.

“I-I mean it!” he reiterated as the itch, rather than expanding sideways, spread to deeper nerves, growing ever more unbearable.

“This d-doesn’t even t-tickle, it’s just…” Midoriya trailed off as he tried and failed to turn himself over, increasingly more desperate to rub his front side against the surface of the dessert. But the bonds weren’t going to allow him such a mercy.

And when he found himself glancing at a fork, the full scale of just how screwed he was became obvious to him.

“O-one of you can s-scratch me,” he bargained – no, pleaded – with the forks. But they didn’t move. He rubbed the side of his foot into the spongy surface, again, but the relief was far diminished, while the itch just kept growing.

“Isn’t that wh-what you w-wanted? Come on!”

But they did nothing as his squirming grew ever more frantic, bearing no fruit.

“Y-yeah, it will tickle, but… Is it b-because I said no tickling? I can take just two or three, it’s, it’s fine…!”

But the forks did nothing; meanwhile, the more Midoriya struggled, the more millimeters of virgin skin the itching powder seemed to find.

“Please! It itches so much, just- just SCRATCH it, PLEASE!” he begged, but once again, the forks did nothing.

“Y-you can tickle me if you have to, just DO SOMETHING, I, I can’t take it, please! J-just… isn’t that w-what you wanted?! You can t-tickle me, a-all of you! Just please, PLEASE, do SOMETH-!”

Midoriya would never have to finish his imploration, because the forks suddenly pounced… and Midoriya screamed.

The forks had dull points – they were more similar to backscratchers than anything else – totally harmless against Midoriya’s still slick skin, except for how much they tickled. Coupled with the oil and itching powder, a single one of those would have been enough to reduce him to hysterics. But about ten of them were working his pits – the center of his hollows, the outer ridges, the base of his arms, down to the top of his ribs, where ten or so more roamed, scratching at his chest too because, why not. There was no counting the forks that colonized his washboard stomach, but even so, they weren’t more unbearable than the four – just four – that had taken a liking to his sides and V-line, causing him to buck wildly. Nearly two dozen were working every single spot on his thighs – not even the sides of his shins were safe. A dozen or so at each foot, not neglecting the sides or even the top.

Midoriya’s mind had been annihilated the moment all of them had touched down, so he had no idea what he sounded like – laughing, kind of, a lot of screaming and gurgling. He’d never been tickled in so many spots at once – and he’d shared a dorm with Shoji! – and he’d never, ever been that ticklish.

But it wasn’t just the tickling that was unbearable – the itch persisted, though it briefly morphed into pleasure whenever a fork moved a single inch.

Too much pleasure. Before he’d begged for the tickling because he needed the itch to stop; now, if he could have, he would have pleaded for it to increase because the relief from the itch just felt so, so good. Too good.

Midoriya had never experienced a hands-free orgasm. Never before had an orgasm started from his sides, specifically around his hips, and at the top of his V-line. Arguably the most sensitive area on his outrageously sensitive body. So if intense pleasure was applied to it, it was just a matter of causality: without Deku even noticing, his cock, which had grown turgid and slick once more, spurted all on its own, spilling his pleasure on his belly.

But the forks didn’t stop, no, not even after his sensitivity increased, also increasing the pleasure and torture.

Midoriya was bundle of nerves, nothing more – all cognition had been scratched out of him. He didn’t pass out until the very last second allotted to Mx Pastry ticked down, and he was transported out of his figment.

Mx Pastry looked at the kitchen timer, thoroughly pleased with his timing.

“And that, mes amis, is how you bake a cinnamon roll.”

#mha tickle #bnha tickle #spicy content #tickle content #tickle fic #tickletorture #ticklish!midoriya #lee!midoriya

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flames-tstuff · 10 months

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a hundred years later and I finally can start cranking out some of the requests submitted for my 200 followers event! :D

This was the result of two combined requests for:

TodoDeku

Lee!Midoriya

From here on out I'm going to try to get one posted each week (buuut we shall see lol). Thank you to those who submitted requests!

Enjoy! <3

(reference/inspo under the cut)

#bnha #tododeku #mha #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku #ler!todoroki #lee!midoriya #my hero academia #flames art #flame draws #flames stuff #fluff #request #lee!deku #200 follower event #follower milestone

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ticklish-n-stuff · 2 years

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Tickletober day 2: Tracing

Aside from ShinKami, I also really like the ship ShinDeku, so here we are~! This is hella short, but I still think it’s pretty cute~ 💚��

___________________________________________

Shinso x Deku (romantic)

Lee: Deku

Ler: Shinso

Warnings: Tickles!

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It was late at night, the heroes in training were found in the greennette’s room, all cozied up in his bed while watching a movie in his laptop. Deku was all snuggled up against Shinso’s side, focused on the movie, although the same couldn’t be said for Shinso. He couldn’t help but feel a bit bored by the film. Looking for literally anything else to do, he started to lightly drag his fingertips down Deku’s arm, tracing along his scars. This caused the All-Might fanboy to shiver at the ticklish touch. Poor Deku tried to ignore the tickly feeling, but the more Shinso traced his arm the more ticklish it felt. Not being able to hold it in anymore, he let out a soft giggle. Shinso quirked his eyebrow at the cute reaction “What’s so funny?”.

“N-nohothing! You’re just t-tihickling me…!” the grennette giggled out, burrying his blushing face against Shinso’s shoulder.

The purple haired male looked down at what he was doing and instantly smiled at the realization. “It tickles, huh?” he gently grabbed Deku’s arm and kept lightly tracing it up and down, reaching all the way to his wrist.

“Pfft- Ehehehe! I’ts soho bahahad!” Izuku giggled out to his hearts content, his freckles getting lost in his ever growing blush.

“I don’t see you pulling away though~” Shinso teased as he pulled up Deku’s hand to his face, placing a gentle kiss on his palm.

“EEP!” Deku’s face errupted right there and then at the embarrasing squeak that escaped him.

“Don’t tell me you have ticklish hands as well~” Shinso chuckled as he started to trace along the lines of Deku’s palm.

“I-I cahahan’t hehehelp it!” Izuku kept on giggling himself silly, enjoying the light and yet effective tickles his boyfriend was giving him. The film long forgotten.

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#mha #bnha #tickle fic #mha tickle #mha tickle fic #bnha tickle #bnha tickle fic #izuku midoriya #hitoshi shinso #lee!midoriya #ler!shinso #shindeku #tickletober 2022

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tklpilled · 2 years

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made of starlight

(midoriya, bakugou)

summary: tickling is definitely against the rules.

a/n: …sorry. au where bakugou is a decent person. for the prompt ‘shriek’!

[this is a sfw tickle fic!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Bakugou is a cheater.

When it comes to sparring without Quirks, he used to be able to kick Midoriya’s ass without any trouble. After all of Midoriya’s training, though, they’re more evenly matched now. Which is great for Midoriya, being able to show off his strength, but Bakugou is a sore loser.

So he cheats. And he’ll argue that he’s not, because they never set many rules and he’s following the few they did put in place, and Midoriya can’t really argue because—

Well.

He’s nearly won, close to pushing Bakugou out of bounds, and in his overconfidence he lets his guard down for just a moment, which gives the blond a perfect chance to grab onto him. He grabs Midoriya’s arm first, then pulls him closer and before Midoriya can react he’s got another hand squeezing his side and ah, shit.

See, Midoriya has a few weaknesses, and one of them is that he’s devastatingly ticklish. It’s not unusual for Bakugou to use that against him, but it’s the first time it’s come up in their sparring matches. Internally, Midoriya curses himself for not thinking to set a proper rule against it, because Bakugou doesn’t play fair and never has.

He’s pressed against Bakugou’s chest, and although one arm is free he feels like all his strength is being sucked out of him by the second.

He stomps a foot on the ground. “Kacchan!” he wails. “Thihis is s-so unfahair!”

“Not my fault you break so easily,” Bakugou says, a menacing grin on his face. “C’mon, what if a villain finds out about this? What’re you gonna do then, huh?”

Midoriya whines. “Yohou’re so mean!” He’s grasping at Bakugou’s hand though it doesn’t do much. He could use his quirk, but they did agree not to use them, and unlike Bakugou, he’s not a cheater.

Apparently Bakugou gets tired of his hand helplessly fighting him off, because Midoriya soon finds himself on the ground with his hands pinned beneath Bakugou’s knees.

“Die, you fuckin’ nerd,” growls his rival, resuming his tickling with squeezes to his stomach and Midoriya thinks he may actually be trying to kill him.

“Thahahaha—Kahacchan, please!—thahat isn’t something a hehero student shohohould be sahaying!”

Bakugou ignores him. “Do you give up?”

Despite the unbearable feeling, Midoriya shakes his head. “N-nehehever!”

That’s not true. He’s stubborn, but he probably won’t last much longer at all. Bakugou knows this and is definitely going to exploit it.

Midoriya wonders why they’re friends.

“I’ll make you give up,” Bakugou says with a terrifying smirk. “I’ll make you shriek.” The worst part about it, Midoriya thinks, is that he could do those things easily; they’re not just empty threats. The thought sends butterflies to his stomach.

He tries bargaining his way out of the situation. “P-plehehease, thihis isn’t fahahair!” His pleas fall on deaf ears, however, before they’re broken off by a loud squeal when Bakugou claws at his stomach with one hand, drills into his hip with the other. “KahAHAha—Kahahacchan!” Midoriya can’t stand either of those spots being targeted, much less at the same time. He’s sure he’s let out a shriek by now, but Bakugou really does seem to be waiting for him to admit defeat. He won’t give in that easily, though. He can last through this, however ticklish it may be. Probably.

He kicks against the ground behind Bakugou, squirming frantically both to get away from the blond’s hands and to try freeing his own. The problem is that Bakugou’s tickled him plenty of times before, and he knows what kind of moves Midoriya is likely to pull, so he’s prepared and he doesn’t even flinch.

“I cahaha—plehehehea—” Midoriya can’t even finish his words, laughter pouring out too much and too quickly at once to speak for long. Most people would stop by now, but Bakugou takes pleasure in tormenting Midoriya, and plus—Midoriya hasn’t actually asked him to stop. He knows that if he ever wants to, he can say stop and Bakugou will.

“Do you give?”

Midoriya nods frantically. “Y-yehehes, yehehes! Juhust—stahaha—” he shrieks.

Bakugou stops immediately, removing his hands and getting up to let Midoriya have control of his body back. The green-haired boy curls on the ground, giggling and squeaking for a while longer. It’s cute. Midoriya is cute.

“I win,” Bakugou says with a grin. “You lost.”

“Thahat was—an unfahair match,” Midoriya argues, but a poke to his stomach makes him yelp and take it back right away.

They both look forward to their next sparring session.

#my fics #arty writes #tickle fic #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #lee!midoriya #ler!bakugou #bakudeku #i guess. if you want.#augtickletober2022

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lovelymessybubbly · 1 year

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omg, congratulations on 1k followers!!!! could I please request tama wrecking deku? 👉👈 thanks so much ^^

"hehe! is your quirk extreme ticklishness?"

hehe i will never tire of bullying this cutie, he is just so darn precious !! (/▽＼*)｡o○♡ he always gets frantic so easily ! how can i resist tickling him persistently like this ? uhu

those machines look quite cruel. maybe a familiar friend lent them to tama? ufufu (✧ω✧)

hope you enjoy ! and thank you so much for your continued support !!

#tamabijutsu #tickling #my hero academia tickling #mha tickling #bnha tickling #ticklish!midoriya #lee!midoriya #deviled egg #get em tama!!

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sunflowernoodles · 1 year

Text

Movie Night

Can I count this as something different because it’s Tododeku? Probably not, but that doesn’t matter. And multishipping is yes. A bit long and I don’t know if I’m very proud of this but I hope you enjoy it all the same!! 🌻

Lees: Midoriya, Shoto

Lers: Midoriya, Shoto

Ships: Tododeku

~~~

Midoriya and Shoto had been dating a little over a month and the former had invited his boyfriend over to his house for the weekend. Shoto’s house didn’t seem like a good choice for obvious reasons, so Midoriya’s place made the most sense.

“Thanks for coming over, Todoroki.” Midoriya smiled, getting a hint of a smile and nod from Shoto.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Shoto replied, smiling a little more as Midoriya turned away from him to knock on the door. After a minute, Inko opened the door to greet.

“Oh, hello you two! You’re a bit early.” Inko spoke but happily moved to let the two boys inside. “And it’s lovely to see you again, Todoroki.” She smiled.

Shoto returned the smile with a much smaller one, but a smile none the less. “So, what do you two have planned?” Inko asked, leading them to the kitchen where she had some snacks set out.

“We were just gonna watch some movies and maybe play some video games.” Midoriya said as he took a cookie and split it with Shoto, knowing he’d be too nervous to take one by himself. Shoto gave a little nervous smile to his boyfriend before he took a bite.

“Well, that sounds fun. You boys let me know if you need anything, and please! Take some snacks, I made them for you.” Inko offered, noticing how Shoto was about actually taking food without pointing it out.

“We will, thank you, Mom!” Midoriya beamed and he and Shoto took a few more cookies as well as some of the healthier snacks before retreating to Midoriya’s room.

“Your mom is nice.” Shoto finally spoke up, stealing an apple slice from their plate of snacks as they sat on top of Midoriya’s bed. Midoriya smiled

“She really is. But anyways, what kind of movie are you in the mood for?” Midoriya asked and they settled in for the night.

It was dark out now and they were a few movies in. Shoto and Midoriya sat close as they watched the tv in front of his bed, the long empty plate having been moved to the desk.

Shoto had never been able to give movies his full attention, and now that they were on the third, that definitely wouldn’t happen. His eyes drifted down to Midoriya’s arm that he’d been holding for a while now.

Something Shoto learned he liked quiet a bit about his boyfriend, is that he had freckles nearly everywhere, not just on his face. Shoto admired the freckles and old scars adorning Midoriya’s arm for a moment before gently tracing a line down his forearm. Midoriya let out a startled yelp.

“Todoroki, what-“ Midoriya started, more flustered by the affection than anything.

“I’m just looking, sorry” Shoto apologized but kept running his hand across his boyfriend’s arm, making him squirm a little as he tried to keep his arm still.

“I- I know thahat but it- it kind of tickles.” A small giggle slipped past Midoriya’s lips as he spoke. Shoto just gave a small chuckle.

Midoriya being ticklish was anything but a surprise to Shoto being all their friends have tickled him many times. Though he never had himself since he was so distant at the beginning of the year and then too flustered from his feelings for the green haired boy to even try tickling him.

“I know, but you’re fine.” Shoto shrugged. Though after a moment, Shoto wanted more than the one little giggle from a second ago. Shoto’s hand drifted lower on his squirming boyfriends arm as he recalled past times others have tickled him. Then without any warning-

“ShohHOHOtohoho! WahaHAhait!” Midoriya laughed as Shoto was fighting to get a good hold on his hips, only getting a good squeeze in once or twice.

Shoto did eventually get the upper hand and sat himself on Midoriya’s thighs, Midoriya’s shirt rolling up a little from all the commotion. Shoto spotted some more freckles on the now exposed skin.

“Oh look, more freckles.” Shoto said innocently as he ruthlessly dug his thumbs into Midoriya’s hips, making him squeal and arch his back a little.

“SHOHOHOHOHOTOHOHO! NAHAHAHAHA!” Midoriya laughed as Shoto just smiled down at him with a small blush on his face. Midoriya on the other hand was beet red because of the sudden attack and laughing so much from his worst spot getting immediately went after.

Midoriya was laughing so much but found the strength to reach over and lightly tickle Shoto’s knee. Now Midoriya had no clue Shoto was ticklish, he was just hoping it’d do something. And it definitely did.

Shoto moved his leg quickly, being distracted long enough that Midoriya got the upper hand, flipping their positions so Shoto’s back was too the bed. Shoto let out a small yelp of surprise as he stared up at his boyfriend, a small blush spreading across his face again.

“Yohou- that wahas very mean, Shoto.” Midoriya giggled as he took a second to catch his breath. Shoto smiled slightly at the small laugh and from anticipation.

“But anyways, are you ticklish?” Midoriya asked, gently placing his hands around Shoto’s hips and grinning slightly as he felt Shoto tense up underneath him. But even then, Shoto shook his head.

“No, I’m not.” Shoto whispered shyly and shrugged. He squeaked when he felt a small pinch to his side that made him squirm.

“Awe, I think you are though. What about here? Are you ticklish here, Todoroki?” Midoriya teased as he kneaded his thumbs into Shoto’s belly.

Shoto’s eyes widened, a wobbly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth at the sensation, “That- Midoriya, wahait. Plehehease.” Shoto quietly giggled as his legs kicked uselessly behind his boyfriend. Seeing as Midoriya was hardly tickling him and Shoto could easily tickle him back still or ask to be left alone, he continued.

“Wait? Wait for what? I thought you weren’t ticklish?” Midoriya said in faux confusion. He then gasped dramatically, “Oh no, Todoroki. You didn’t lie to me, did you?”

For someone that was so easily flustered, Shoto thought it was unfair that Midoriya was so good at teasing. Shoto was brought back from his thoughts when he heard Midoriya speaking.

“Oh, look at that. You have little freckles, too.” Midoriya spoke, poking a few of the little lonely freckles on Shoto’s belly where his shirt had ridden up.

“I- Ihi dohohon’t really thihink those are the sahame thing, Midoriya.” Shoto giggled, squeaking softly at each little poke. Midoriya just smiled at the sight of his happy, giggling boyfriend since he’s almost never seen him like this before.

“Hey, will you care if I do something? Y’know, since you aren’t ticklish?” Midoriya asked with a little pinch to his boyfriend’s side and for now giving him a break.

Shoto thought for a moment and gave a surprisingly playful smile, “Only if you let me tickle you after.” Shoto shrugged and got a small blush from Midoriya in return.

“Fine, I suppose thats fair.” Midoriya sighed, moving to straddle Shoto’s legs as he pushed his shirt up a little further.

Shoto just watched in confusion and curiosity, shivering a little when the cold air from the room hit his bare stomach. He let out a small giggle of anticipation when Midoriya leaned down, expecting something more viscous. But all he did was plant a small kiss on Shoto’s belly wherever there was a small freckle or birthmark or scar.

Shoto gasped softly and smiled, “Wahait, nohoho!” He giggled when Midoriya continued to repeatedly kiss all over his stomach. “Izuhuhuhukuhu!”

“Yes, Shoto ~?” Midoriya asked teasingly, laying his head on Shoto’s stomach, taking to gently scratching up and down the length of Shoto’s side. It was just enough to keep him giggling.

“I dohon’t knohohow.” Shoto whined, an unimaginably wide smile spread across his face as he was honestly happy about the silly display of affection and attention.

“Aww, so you want me tickle you? Okay, Shoto.” Midoriya teased but seemingly, he was correct. The fact Shoto hasn’t moved and his giggles grew to a higher pitch was all he needed to tell.

“You’re suhuhuch a dohohohork.” Shoto giggled when Midoriya went back to kissing anywhere he could on his boyfriend’s stomach, occasionally giving him a raspberry to make him squeal and cause his laughter to go all pitchy.

Shoto laid there relishing in the tickly affection for a few minutes before tapping Midoriya’s shoulder and he backed up and pulled his shirt back down. “Alright, I’m done. Let’s go back to our movies.” Midoriya smiled as he ruffled up Shoto’s hair, but the other quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him down beside him.

“Oh, no. Don’t you remember? You’re next, Izuku.” Shoto teased.

It was safe to say, they weren’t paying attention to their movies for a while.

#bnha tickles #lee!todoroki #ticklish!todoroki #lee!midoriya #ticklish!midoriya #sfw tickles #tickle fic #I hate spell checking because I somehow still always miss something

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