They start like a joke, you promise after lost bet, to dressed like a girl for Halloween.
But you never imagine you, she loved that....so much. And you love that, feel girly make you hard, this is the best haloween you live.
Once day, you search but no boxer in your room. She have no idea, but she let you borrow her panties for a mounth you have wearing panties under your clothes. And you feel happy, more than before this mounth.
After another mounth, you tell her you live that and you think, be a full time girl is better for you. She scream a lot before hug you, kiss and go shopping with you.
Now, you are a girl, always dressed like that. And you love your new life.
Once day, with a friend you playing game. He lost, you dare him to dressed like girl for Halloween..
oK so there are 4 endings to this AU and im finally gonna start going through them cause ive had them on my mind for like what feels like a month.
This is ending 3 labeled Pure Spite.
Hollow and Ghost had a massive argument and out of pure spite Ghost declared that they were going to be a better vessel than Hollow and absorbed the Radiance inside the black egg.
I headcanon that the Radiance was able to break Hollow in the main story is because they had a quiet desire to be something to the Pale King. The Radiance takes advantages of desires and uses them as a gateway into the minds of bugs. However, because Ghost’s main desire is to stick it to their sibling by successfully containing her, there’s no way in for Radiance to corrupt Ghost and she is livid beyond any conceivable word in the human language.
Marinette saw Damian headed down the hallway and she quickly turned down the back hallway and slipped into a costume closet. She had already had a long rough day with one of the supporting actresses causing a series of problems that somehow were all Marinette's fault. She did not need to deal with Damian as she was headed out the door. He was arrogant and always found something to complain about and it was usually about her. They had gotten off on the wrong foot and now the only thing she had ever seen him happy about was her being unhappy.
She only planned to be here for a moment but she heard him curse as his footsteps moved past the hallway and then move quickly down into the hall and the closet door opened. She pushed back into the corner hoping whatever he needed was in the front and he wouldn’t see her. She couldn’t imagine what he would need to get from there anyway. He had made it very clear that as the star of the show everyone should be meeting his needs and he had no need to know where to find his costumes or props.
Instead of getting something out of the closet he opened the door and stepped in, closing the door behind him. She had no time to shift away or any way to hide that she was in there. She held her breath and backed into the corner. She couldn’t fathom why he had followed her into here anyway. He shifted the costumes and pushed himself right into the corner until he was against her. There was nowhere for her to escape to, she let out a startled squeak as he pressed himself into her.
Damian could not stand Cecile. She was vapid and loud. She never had an end to her questions or ideas. She had gotten a good supporting part in the movie, but she was not a lead role for which she constantly complained. He did his best to avoid her off set but she had a habit of showing up everywhere. Honestly the entire movie was a waste and he wished he could get out of his contract. The other lead was fine. They had little interaction outside of the set and she did well with the part. Everyone else on the cast and crew were extremely tiresome with the exception of one costume designer. She was an apprentice and this was her first project on her own but it was overseen by her mentor. She was efficient and had a great eye. She had a hesitancy and stammering manner but she didn’t fawn over him like many of the others did.
Cecilie had been even more insufferable today than usual after catching Damian not listening to her because he got distracted watching the costume designer, Marinette. When Damian heard Cecile loudly talking about how she was looking for him so they could leave together and check out the new tapas place he panicked slightly. He did not want to deal with her anymore so he rushed down the back hallway and through the first door he saw. He pulled the door closed behind himself. He was moving too quickly for the small space. He thought it was an office or workspace but it turned out to be a small closet. A very small closet and it was pretty full of costumes. He tried to halt his movements and remain silent. He ended up right in the corner, or would have if someone was not already occupying it.
The other person made a startled eeep sound and he covered her mouth before they could be discovered. They were silent and listening as Cecile wandered around shouting for Damian. He was so focused on listening for her that he didn’t realize for several moments that his hand was still covering the mouth of the other person. There was no light in the closet so he wasn’t sure who was in here with him, or why. Hopefully they could be persuaded to refrain from mentioning this incident if he offered the right incentive.
Marinette was certain the loud sound of her beating heart would give them away. She would probably have been breathing heavier but Damian’s had covered her mouth and his other arm had moved to the back of her head holding her head still. She didn’t dare try to get him to stop. She quickly figured out why he had jumped in here and it had nothing to do with her. She could hear one of the other actresses screeching around looking for him. She couldn’t blame his escape, especially since she had just done the same. Maybe she could convince him that she was also hiding from the odious woman. She was pretty nasty to Marinette and honestly she might have made the same choice if she thought the woman was looking for her.
She could feel every one of his muscles tensed against her as Cecile continued screeching out Damian's name. She would never give him the satisfaction of saying how that made her feel. He had already wanted his distaste at her mentioning anything about how the costume would look on him or display his muscles. She had just been making conversation while getting measurements but he had mistaken her inquiries about the costume's fit and material preferences as trying to make a pass at him. He told her to just do her job and leave her personal opinions out of it so she had just made the best choices she could without his input then or in the future. If he wanted to be a diva she would wait for the complaints.
Marinette shifted in his hold. She was right against his chest but she was still holding herself back into the corner with her arms at her sides. It had been quiet for several minutes when Damian released the pressure from her mouth pulling his hand away. His other hand seemed to release the back of her head slowly, almost threading through her stray hairs. She stayed rigid in the corner and she still remained silent. She didn’t know the protocol for greeting a person you randomly hid in a closet with, maybe she could find a book or a humorous blog post about it. He seemed uninterested in coming up with small talk and simply turned away from her and turned the door handle. Then he twisted it again with the same result. Several more times before he seemed to accept that there was a problem.
“It's locked,” he said.
“No, are you sure?”
“If you can manage to open it, be my guest.”
Damian felt the woman shift and he turned so she could reach the door. Same result. It wouldn’t twist. That didn’t stop her from trying several more times and then making an irritated sound before rattling the door against the jamb.
“I’ve left my phone in the dressing room. Use yours to call someone to let us out.”
“My phone is in my office. But great news. I have the keys. Unfortunately the lock is on the other side of the door.”
“That is useless.” he sounded angry. “Why were you in here anyway?”
“This is a costume closet. I have every right to be here.” she said. “You are the one who followed me in and locked the door.”
This gave him the information to place her voice which helped make sense of her having an office instead of a dressing room. He didn't think she would accept any bribery from him to keep quiet but fortunately it was because he didn't think Marinette was the type to talk about any of the cast or crew. He had heard her be asked questions by reporters before and she always expertly sidestepped the questions to focus on aspects to promote the movie or her own work on the costumes.
He wasn't sure how to bring anything up with her. He had his first meeting with her directly after the initial meeting with the cast that has reporters. He had gotten along great with the other lead Amy and her husband at the meeting but that is when he first met Cecilie. He had been very grateful to get away from her for a quiet fitting but on her first day Marinette was distracted and fumbling. He had later found out she hadn't been told to be there at all and had rushed in to get measurements. He had been her first fitting and he was already in a foul mood. Her innocent questioning felt too personal so he scolded her harshly.
She released the handle and turned away from the door, bumping into him in the process. He stepped back from her but he was against the wall so he reached out and nudged her away. Marinette stumbled when he pushed her and hit the wall on the other side. She pushed against it to keep herself up. She tried to smooth out the costumes so they would not be damaged in the small space. She felt around trying to think through everything that was located in this closet. She was hoping something would prove useful for their current predicament. She didn’t even realize she was talking quietly to herself until he asked about it.
“What are you muttering about?” he asked.
“I’m trying to inventory the costumes to see if there is anything here that can help us get out of here,” she said.
“I thought you were very professional until I found you hiding in a closet and now muttering to yourself.”
Marinette turned quickly to confront him. How dare he suggest she was the one being unprofessional when he had tried the same thing. She turned on him quickly. Too quickly. She slipped on a piece of fabric when she spun back towards him and stumbled. Her arms flailed out and grabbed for anything to keep her from tumbling. She cringed as she felt herself grasp at the costumes but she couldn’t seem to stop it. She made a series of noises to go along with the sounds of the hangers being yanked to the side.
But then she felt his arms go around her and pull her back to her feet. She latched onto him in an attempt to stay upright but he had lunged too far. She was only on her feet for a split second before he crashed into her and they both fell down into a heap. He was fully on top of her and she twisted to try to get free of his weight. Like a game of Twister she realized her back was on top of one of his arms and her legs were tangled in his.
His chest lifted as he shifted against her. She tried to move again but she could not get her arms under her with his weight on top of her. She froze as his hand moved against her and down the outer part of her skirted side and leg. She pulled away from his hand causing both of them to collapse back down again. His arms pulled her against him tightly as he started twisting. She struggled against him until he told her to stop. She froze again and he flipped them over until he was sitting with his back against the wall with her straddling his lap.
Damian was regretting not just letting her fall. He could hear her flailing and reached out without thinking but now they were on the ground tangled together. She seemed to be panicking so he took charge. He felt around a bit to find out how they were tangled before making his move. She was not cooperating with any of his attempts to get them apart. She was doing the exact opposite of what they needed to do to get back to their feet.
“You are making everything worse. Just hold still,” he growled.
Finally she stopped and he was able to lift her to him and turn them both over. Now she was on top of him but they were in a better position to get untangled. His hands were resting at her hips as she moved forward, leaning against his chest. Everything in him told him to wrap his arms around her and keep her close to him but she pushed off and got back to her feet. He was shocked that he missed the feel of her against him. He chose to ignore that and pushed himself to his feet.
She was already back to going through the costumes to find a way out of here. He considered what would have happened if he became locked in a closet with almost any other woman who had been around today. He didn’t think that any of them would be trying very hard to get out. They would probably be trying to find a way to get closer to him.
Marinette tried to contain her breathing so Damian would not notice how affected she was. She had to get out of this closet. It was not doing her any good being this close to him. She was shaking remembering the feeling of his body on top of hers and then shifting until she was on his lap, against his chest. She had known he was attractive. That was clearly printed in every magazine that had ever had a photo set of him. But being pressed against his muscles was very different from taking his measurements and checking the fit of his costumes. She just had to remind herself that he hated her.
She had gone through all the costumes on the first row and she hadn’t come up with any brilliant ideas. A couple of the costumes had pins in them that might be used to push into the back of the lock to force the mechanism open but she didn’t think any of them were stored here. She wondered if the hangers could force the handle open. They were pretty sturdy. She moved back to check the costumes to decide which ones would be least harmed by not being on a hanger for a bit. She found 3 that should work and so she went through the process of removing them.
“You’ve had an idea,” Damian said.
He had taken a moment to calm himself after he stood back up but suddenly her movements felt feverish and hurried. He could tell she was working on some sort of plan even without being able to see her.
“I’m getting hangers. I think they could be used as a lever to force the handle open.”
“That sounds possible. How can I help?”
“I think it will have to be you doing all of the work. I’m not tall enough to put the pressure in the right spot.”
Damian reached out for her to get the hanger. Her hand pulled back suddenly when their fingers touched. He wasn’t sure how to react to that. He wasn’t one to be overly touchy and definitely not pushy about the feelings he thought might be developing but it was unexpected. Before he had time to consider further she had pushed it back and it poked into his chest and he was able to get it from her.
He reached out for the door handle and settled the hanger over it to apply the pressure. It was very tight and he could feel the handle turning but when he added a bit more pressure the handle snapped. He cursed while Marinette checked to see if it had opened. She made a disappointed noise and handed him the next hanger. Possibly he was a bit too frustrated because it snapped almost immediately. The broken wood jammed into his forearm. Marinette tried to pull his arm into the thin strip of light coming under the door.
“I don’t think it broke the skin but it will probably have scratches or bruising.”
He made a noncommittal noise and tried not to focus on her fingers gliding along his skin. It didn’t even hurt that bad any more. It had just been a sudden pain. But he found he liked being the target of her concern. He reached out to stop her fingers on his arm. She sucked in a breath at the unexpected contact and pulled back. He could practically feel her shake herself out of a daze. They were too close to hide much of anything in here. He just wasn’t sure if she was reacting to his touch in a good way or just trying to get away from him.
He instead focused on getting them out of there.
Marinette jumped when Damian grabbed her hand from his injured arm. She had completely lost all thought about what she was doing. He had never given her any sign that he wanted her to continue touching him beyond the initial check of his injury. Luckily he could not see her face heat up in the dark. She pulled away quickly so he wouldn’t notice how much she just wanted to hold onto his hand. His focus had returned to the door handle so that is where she would focus too. She was too quiet for him to hear her stammering apologies but just handed off the final hanger she had gotten. She could tell the difference with this attempt immediately. The handle was making a noise as it turned and Damian was adjusting it as it moved so the hanger wouldn’t snap.
Then just like that, the handle fell to the ground with a clatter. Marinette couldn’t contain her excitement. She laughed with joy and grabbed Damian and pulled him into a tight hug. She hardly even noticed that he was hugging her back because she was bouncing around. She didn’t notice until the hug didn’t end when she expected. She tended to be a hugger so she was accustomed to pulling back when the other person pulled back but after the excited feeling was washing away she started to step back only to realize that he was still holding on. His head tilted into the crook of her neck before with one final squeeze he slid away slowly. Marinette had to hold onto the wall for a moment when he released because her knees were suddenly too weak to hold her up.
Damian held her in his arms and wished the feeling could never end. He didn’t often hug people. He rarely enjoyed it when he did, aside from a few close family members and friends. But holding Marinette in his arms just felt right. She fit against him. He could feel her pulling back but they were about to be out of the space and he may never be close to her like this again. He tightened his hold for just a second before releasing her slowly. He hoped she couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating just now or that she would not tell everyone how he gave awkward long hugs. He squared his shoulders and pushed against the door.
The door didn’t just push open so he looked at the mechanism stuck in the handle hole. He pushed on the tab and it did nothing. The locked handle was still stuck on the outside and it wouldn’t budge. It was fastened on with screws. Marinette had picked up the handle and tried to get it to connect to the piece but it wasn’t working. Damian didn’t think that would help anyway but she was clearly in distress.
“Is there a screw to use to push in the pin hole?” Damian asked.
“No. There are no screws on this side. It was connected with threads to connect to the other piece of the handle.”
“Where is the hanger? I can use the piece that holds it to apply pressure.”
Marinette handed him one of the hangers.
“I don’t think that will work. The hanger doesn’t have the piece like that. They connect directly onto the rack so the costumes are less likely to fall and be damaged, especially during shipping or when people get locked into the closet and stuck for all eternity.”
Damian started to laugh at her joke but then he realized she wasn’t actually joking. She was breathing heavily and was backed against the wall.
Marinette didn’t know what else to do. They had tried everything and they couldn’t get out. No one else would be there for hours. She held onto the wall and while her head was spinning. At least Damian couldn’t see her acting so foolishly. She bit her lip to control her breathing and hot tears ran down her cheeks. She could hear Damian moving but even with another beam of light shining in she still couldn’t see what he was doing. Maybe it was good that he hadn’t given up yet. It wouldn’t be great to have them both breaking down at the same time.
But Damian had not stopped at the door. He was right there in front of her. He rested a hand on her shoulder and she just knew that he could feel the wet spot where her tears had dripped down. She felt the fingers on his other hand on her cheek, gently wiping away her tears. She couldn’t hold in a sob at his tenderness. She covered her face with her hands but he didn’t let that stop him. He pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
Damian was not the first person anyone would go to when they were in distress but in this case he was the only one available. He made gentle hushing noises and smoothed her hair back from her face. He breathing had calmed but she was crying into her hands. She was struggling to get some distance so he could hear what she was saying. He caught just the last bit through her muffled tears.
“I’m crying all over your shirt,” she said.
“Don’t worry about my clothes. They will be fine,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“I think I’m just not a huge fan of small spaces.”
He brushed the last of her tears from her cheeks. Her breathing was calmer now and he wasn’t sure what suddenly came over him. His hand was on her jaw and he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He could feel her gasp against his lips but he realized she had stayed rigid and not melted against him. She wasn't kissing him. He had kissed her while she was against a wall trapped with him in a small closet. He stumbled back from her.
Marinette was so distraught about being such a mess in front of him it took her a moment to process what had happened. He had just kissed her. He seemed just as shocked as her when he pulled away. She didn’t think he had planned it. She didn’t even think he could stand her. She could still feel him standing right in front of her. Not that he had many options for where to go. His hands dropped from her and they just stood there, inches apart for a moment.
He turned back to the door and tried to mess with the lock again. She could see his face in the light coming from the hole in the door. Two separate strands of light hit his face. She could see the tenseness in his cheekbone that she imagined moved down to his jaw. The other was shining directly on his lips. She touched her own remembering the feel of his on hers.
She could feel his bicep tense as she reached out and touched him. She had to force herself to breathe. He didn't pull away but he reserved any reaction waiting to see what she would do. She knelt down next to him and slid her hand up to his shoulder. If possible he tensed even more. She reached up with her other hand and tentatively touched his jaw. She could feel the bit of rugged stubble required for the scene today. It was much softer than she had imagined.
Damian didn't think he quite stopped the groan that came out as her fingers brushed along his jaw. He generally preferred clean shaven but as her fingers continued to move through his stubble he was gaining an appreciation for it. He moved slowly as her second hand moved up to his jaw. She seemed over the shock of being kissed against the wall while crying but he wanted to wait for her to make a move. It was torturously slow. She was being cautious too. But he felt her body shift and then her thumb brushed along his bottom lip.
Her lips met his as she leaned forward. Her hesitancy vanished when he responded. His hand moved back to her hair where it had been when he first entered the closet and covered her mouth. She pushed herself against him from her knees but he craved her closer. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his lap. She planned a knee on either side of his hip and wrapped her arms around his neck. He kept one arm around her waist and one threading through her hair as it cascaded out of the bun.
Damian wasn't sure how much time had passed. They had pulled away for air several times and shifted positions as well. Marinette's hair was fully down from her previous hair do and her clothing looked delightfully wrinkled when the door opened and light poured in. He watched her squint at the sudden brightness. He must look something like her. Her chest was heaving and her lips red and puffy. He was tempted to shut the door again and stay hidden with her longer.
Marinette was dazed when the door suddenly opened and poured light over them. Her eyes were shocked at the amount of light too quickly. She knew the person who opened the door could clearly tell what they had been doing. She looked away from the man's smirk and down at the floor. She glanced back up at Damian. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his shirt was untucked. He stood and reached to pull her to her feet. She noticed a couple buttons undone at the top of his shirt. She suddenly wondered about the buttons on her own blouse and turned away to fix them.
"Jon, it's great to see you. How did you know to look for us?"
"Your brother called and said you missed dinner and wouldn't answer your phone. I sent a video of a baby elephant being cute and you didn't react so I knew something had to be wrong," Jon said.
"We have been locked in here for hours. No phone or tools and the handle was broken."
"Sounds," Jon cleared his throat, "rough."
Marinette wasn't making eye contact. She had readjusted her clothes and pulled her hair into a low ponytail. She couldn't avoid the awkwardness anymore. She stepped into the hallway and both men looked at her. She opened her mouth but realized she had nothing to say. She turned on her heels quickly and started to rush away. Her cheeks were burning and she thought she might start crying again.
What had she been thinking? There were all sorts of rumors about what kind of man Damian might be. It was widely thought that he remained single so he could hook up with women from all over and pay them for their silence. There had been all a lot of suggestions about who he might secretly be involved with but there had never been a confirmed relationship. She just knew things at work would end up very awkward if anyone found out. Both her and Damian were professional so perhaps they could manage to hide the awkwardness until the end of the project and then never see each other again.
"Marinette?" Damian's voice was quiet and he stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Would you like to go to dinner tonight? I need to freshen up a bit but I imagine you are as hungry as I am."
He sounded so uncertain. She wondered what he was thinking. Everything felt perfect when they were alone but in the sudden light and openness they were uncertain again.
"I'd like that," she said.
They both took a few minutes making themselves presentable and gathering their things. Marinette was happy she wouldn't have to catch the late night subway. Damian introduced his friend Jon and said he would keep everything about the incident to himself. She was grateful for that and for him waiting on the introduction until she had fixed her appearance. His hand hovered at her back at they walked out. Jon excused himself and left them alone as they got in the car.
Marinette buckled her seatbelt in silence. When she looked over Damian hadn't started the car. He was watching her. When she looked at him he leaned towards her. She met his lips as they gently brushed against each hers. Her heart was suddenly pounding again.
"I was aching to do that again," he said.
He turned back and started the car to take her on their first date.
Summary: Bakugou gets stuck under his bed and has to resort to asking Deku for help. But when he arrives, Deku can't pass up the opportunity to wreck him without retaliation for once.
A/N: Hehehehe! Finally, I get to share the latest installment in the "Give Up, Deku!" storyline! I've been trying to find a way to make this particular scenario happen for so long - stuck tickles was a perfect excuse! I hope you love it as much as I do! Enjoy! ^^
Word Count: 1,577
It was one in the morning. There was no way anyone was coming to help Bakugou out of his predicament.
The blonde huffed out a sigh, irritated with himself, and with his phone. He gripped the device in one hand, awkwardly navigating to his contacts and typing out a message to Kirishima. He waited for five minutes, then sighed again. No luck. He’d have to try someone else. But who would be awake at this hour?
He knew. Bakugou hated to admit it – hated to have to resort to this – but he knew who else would be awake at one in the morning.
Another few minutes later, there was a soft knock on his door, and a quiet, timid voice said, “Kacchan?”
Bakugou groaned into the carpet underneath his bed. He hated this bed – hated how short it was – and he hated his phone for falling between the bed and the wall, forcing him to crawl under to retrieve it, only for him to be unable to get back out again.
“I don’t want to hear a word,” Bakugou muttered, listening to his door close again and Deku’s footsteps on his bedroom floor. “Just get me out of here.”
“What…how did you…?”
“My stupid phone fell, all right? I said I didn’t want to hear a word from you. Just help me out of here!”
There was a long pause, and for a moment, Bakugou thought Deku was about to leave. But then he felt him grab onto his ankles and tug, slowly but surely pulling him backwards, out from under his too-short bed. As he went, his t-shirt rolled up to his chest, exposing his back and stomach, but he didn’t care. He just wanted out.
Then, all of a sudden, he stopped moving. A weight settled on his ankles, a light touch brushed across his bare soles.
“Deku,” he growled, “don’t you dare.”
The only response he got was ten fingers scribbling into his arches, up to his heels, down to the balls of his feet and his toes, and he felt the laughter bubbling inside of him before it came spilling out in waves.
Bakugou was going to kill him.
“Deheheheheheku! Deku, you ihihihihihidiot, knock it ohohoff!”
More scribbling along the tops of his feet, dragging fingernails along the sides of them. He wasn’t far enough out from under his bed to be able to move yet – all he could do was lay there and laugh into the carpet, squirming his upper body and trying to scrunch up his toes as best he could.
“Nohohohohohoho! Deheheheheku, you neheheheheherd!” He laughed for several moments before it hit him that he wasn’t getting any kind of response. Not even teasing. “Why ahahahahahren’t you sahahahahaying anything?!”
“You said you didn’t want to hear a word,” Deku replied, and Bakugou could hear the smirk in his voice. He was enjoying this far too much. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“Lehehehehehehehet me gohohohohohoho, you mohohohohohohoron!”
“Oh, Kacchan, how could I possibly let this opportunity pass me by?” Deku teased, grabbing the toes of his left foot and pinning them down, dragging his nails up and down the now immobile sole. Bakugou hated himself for how loudly he shrieked. “We have tickle fights all the time now, and you’ve tickled me without retaliation in the past. But I’ve never – not even once – gotten to tickle you without you being able to fight back at all. I want to savor this moment.”
“Stahahahahahahahap, Deku!” Bakugou fisted his hands into the carpet, his phone lying in front of him, screen-up, still with the words he’d texted to Deku facing him. If you’re awake I need you to help me. Well, this certainly wasn’t what he’d had in mind! The incessant tickling on his left foot was driving him insane. “Stop! Lehehehehehehehet me go!”
Deku giggled, and Bakugou felt the weight on his legs shift so the nerd was now sitting on his knees, grabbing and squeezing at his thighs. The blonde jerked and sputtered, laughter pouring from him in tight, jerky bursts.
“No – stop– nahahaha – not there – Deheheheku I’ll kihihihihill you—!”
“Can you guess what I want from you, Kacchan?” Deku’s voice was in his confident, teasing register that Bakugou hated so dang much. He reached even higher to pinch along the insides of the blonde’s thighs. “I want you to give up. Admit defeat. Tell me I win.”
“StahaHAHAHAP!! Deku – dohohohohon’t do that – this isn’t FAHAHAHAIR!!” Bakugou’s laughs were coming out even louder now, more desperate, as the ticklish feelings intensified. He hated his bed. He hated it with everything he had.
Deku chuckled, and it sent a shiver up Bakugou’s spine for how sinister it sounded. “All’s fair in love and tickle war.”
“I hahahahahate you!” Bakugou cried, his voice turning screechy as Deku’s fingers trailed even further up, squeezing his hips now. “You neheheheherd, y-you’ll regrehehehehet this – no, no, no! No, Deku! Don’t – no!”
“What’s the matter, Kacchan?” Deku teased, reaching under the bed to gently tap his fingers over that spot between his ribs and underarms. The spot that would make him give in one way or another. The spot that made him lose all sense of everything except how much it freaking tickled.
“Y-You know what!” Bakugou snapped, feeling himself tremble in anticipation no matter how much he tried not to. “Don’t…don’t tickle me there! This isn’t fair and you know it, you dang nerd!”
“Why, Kacchan, you sound nervous.”
Bakugou cursed. “Shut up and get me out of here already!”
“Give up, Kacchan.” Deku pressed his fingers in slightly, a warning. “Give up, or I’ll never stop tickling you.”
Bakugou gritted his teeth. Before he could even think about replying, Deku had scooted up even further to sit on his thighs, reaching under the bed to find purchase on that spot and tickle as hard as possible.
“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Bakugou screamed, unable to do anything more than kick his feet out behind him. He couldn’t bring his arms down, couldn’t roll over, couldn’t do anything other than lay there and feel it and take it. “DEHEHEHEHEHEHEKU I’LL MAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE YOU PAHAHAHAHY FOR THIS!!”
“Not until you give up first.” Deku giggled again. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~ Not so tough when you can’t get away at all, are you, Kacchan? I keep forgetting how ticklish you are~”
“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEASE!!” Bakugou pounded his fists on the ground. He didn’t care if whoever was below him woke up. He couldn’t take this intense tickling without being able to move at all! “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”
That one word sent a strong wave of ticklish panic through Bakugou, making him shriek and squeal and kick and do everything in his power to get away, only to fail miserably and be reminded of how helpless he was right now, and at the mercy of his oldest rival. Still, there was some tiny, insane part of him that was proud of Deku for having the guts to do this to him at all.
The majority of him still vowed to murder the nerd when this was all over.
“I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T – I CAN’T TAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT!! DEHEHEHEHEKU!!”
“What a shame. You’d better give up, then.”
Bakugou was practically gasping for breath at this point. There was limited air supply down here as it was, and with all of his laughing and writhing, he was pretty sure he was using all of it up. He didn’t want to give in to the tickling, but with nowhere to go and no way to fight back, he really had no choice in the matter.
“PLEASE!! YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW I CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAHAKE IT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! I’M DYIHIHIHIHIHING!! DEKU!!”
“Give up, Kacchan!”
“FIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINE!!” Bakugou sucked in the biggest breath he could manage, letting it all out in a desperate, hysterical, screaming cry. “I GIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIVE UP!! I GIVE UP, I GIVE UHUHUHUHUHUP!!” Tears streamed down his face from how hard he was laughing now. “DEKU, HAVE MEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY!!”
And finally – finally – the tickling stopped.
Bakugou gasped for air, almost unaware that Deku had gotten to work pulling him out the rest of the way until he was blinded by his own bedroom’s lighting. He lay limp on the carpet, chest heaving as he drank in all the oxygen he could manage, phone long forgotten. God, he was sweating. Actually sweating! Too bad he couldn’t use his quirk in the dorms. He’d blast this nerd into next year.
A pair of green eyes entered his vision, looking concerned. “Kacchan?”
“I…I told you…I was dying,” Bakugou muttered, still making no move to get up. “You nearly…killed me, you idiot…”
Deku watched him for a moment, assessing, then beamed at him and even had the nerve to ruffle his hair. “I expect you to get me back twice as bad for this, okay?”
“Are you kidding me? I’ll tickle you so bad you’ll even forget about All Might.”
With a giggle, Deku nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll be waiting. Good night, Kacchan.” And he was gone.
Bakugou lay on the floor of his room for another few minutes, just trying to muster enough strength to roll over onto his back. Dang, the nerd hadn’t held back this time! He’d be impressed if he wasn’t on the receiving end of it all.
Then he remembered what Deku had said in the beginning. All’s fair in love and tickle war.
Tickle war, eh? Bakugou thought, smirking tiredly. If war is what he wants, then war is what he’ll get!