It’s amazing how many knots of tension a person can get in a matter of hours, whether because of stress itself or rigorous varieties of training. Bakugou is a victim to both, despite keeping the former concealed rather well; as he strives to become the pinnacle of what a hero means to him, he stands his ground at the oncoming stress of daily life and deals with it the only way he seems to know how -- bottling it up and forcing it down by the throat. It isn’t a healthy way of coping with the trials and tribulations that come with pro hero preparation ( especially not when you add in the weight of regular high school ), but Bakugou can’t be bothered with fixing his methods when there’s so many more important things to focus on. That’s what Kirishima is for.
Even if there isn’t much he can do in terms of directly aiding his explosive boyfriend in facing his mental vulnerabilities head on, the least he can do is knead and press away the tension with relaxing massages.
It’s become a bit of a routine between them: Bakugou will usually train and workout for a set number of hours and Kirishima will dutifully check up on him, feeling for any strained muscles once he’s done, and that generally leads up to a massage. Bakugou doesn’t even really need to ask for it ( not that he’d be able to fight past his own embarrassment to do so ) and he appreciates how attentive Kirishima is to his body. It isn’t as though Bakugou hasn’t tried to return the favor, but the other student just politely refuses, usually coming up with some sort of excuse that the blond doesn’t wholly believe, but also doesn’t press the issue.
“Woah.. you’ve really got some bad ones today, huh? What, were you trying to bench press steel?” Kirishima muses, tackling some pretty twisted kinks underneath the skin of Bakugou’s shoulder blades.
“Shut up dumbass, of course I wasn’t..” His voice leaks out softer than usual, more of a jellied groan than his normal growl, thanks to Kirishima’s absolutely magical fingers. He definitely worked harder than he did yesterday and even then, he had pushed past a limit that struck one of his palms numb - he keeps that to himself, however . He doesn’t need his boyfriend more concerned about him than he already is.
“Whatever you say, babe. How much more do you have of this insanity training thing? It’s good that you’re finding new ways to push past the limits of your body and all, but you should still be careful, y’know?” As attractive and manly as it is, the last thing Kirishima would ever want is for Bakugou to rocket too far and hurt himself. He’s already seen what that sort of honing and power has done to Midoriya, he couldn’t bare the thought of Bakugou enduring that kind of pain too.
Bakugou knows this too. He recognizes and values the vast amount of care Kirishima has for his well being, even if thinking about it churns the insides of his stomach like butterflies in a whirlpool. Sensing the tips of his ears painting over in a soft shade of pink, he opts for switching the subject around in favor of avoiding the abashment that dares to rear its ugly head.
“Mmf… move lower.. to the left..” He instructs, shifting the slender musculature of his back in order to better pinpoint where he wants Kirishima's hands.
“Here?” The redhead touches down on a particular area slightly underneath his shoulder blades, to the left just as he had said, closer towards his under arms -- and the answer he was granted wasn't exactly what he was expecting. As soon as he applied pressure, Bakugou let out a snort and jerked an arm backwards, as if to catch his hand and halt his movements. Kirishima blinks, registering the reaction he just got from where he touched. Experimentally, he reenacts the same motions on the same spot and was still surprised to have been gifted the same cute reaction, complete with a curse and a glare backwards this time.
“ Kirishima, not there--”
“Why not? What's wrong with that spot?”
“--! I .. Just, don't touch right there damnmit, I don't gotta explain shit to y--!” His barking is interrupted by another trail of squeaky snorts, Kirishima's hands having snuck back to play at that area once more, this time without the intention to massage and soothe. Bakugou's squirming is immediate as he throws his grinning visage into the pillows beneath his chin, giggles fighting their way through his willpower whilst hands are blindly shoving at his boyfriend's in order to get him to stop - not that it works of course.
“You know what's really cute about you? You're always ticklish in the least expectant places. Hahah, I'm always getting a surprise.” Kirishima's teases come from a 100% genuine love and that's why they're simultaneously the best and the worst kind. Bakugou's heart flutters in the hollows of his ribs, with warm sensations spotting all around as if daisies were blooming between the spaces.
Of course, Bakugou can only respond with a resounding “Sh-shuhuhut the fu-uhuck uhuhup!” to which Kirishima rebuttals with a grin of his own and deeper digs into the flesh while still maintaining something of a feathery stroke, already beginning to drive the blond mad. But he knows Bakugou's body better than the other might care to believe, so he decides to explore instead of remaining at the one spot in case Bakugou built up a temporary immunity.
As he skitters calloused apexes down bare skin, he makes certain to keep the sensation ticklish enough that Bakugou is still rendered nothing but a squirming worm against the sheets, until Kirishima locates a new area that causes the other male to jerk almost aggressively and force out an actual squeal ; Kirishima might have melted right then and there if it were possible.
“Ooh, I found a jackpot huh?” He teases, and you can definitely feel the beaming simper through his words, the utter delight in his voice managing to both piss off and alarm Bakugou all at once.
“D-Don't---! fuck , don't yohohohou fucking dahahare--” Yet Bakugou's demands fall on deaf, excited ears and it isn't long before his curses and growling giggles evolve into broken squeals and belly laughter as Kirishima works the oh so sensitive dip of his back. He thrashes underneath the redhead, attempting to buck and throw him off, or even force his spidering fingers away from that spot long enough to regain some breath and focus on escape. It proves to be much easier thought than done; Kirishima's hands are basically glued inside and around that curve and goddamnmit , he isn't building any sort of immunity to the sensations the longer the other stays on it -- if anything, they started to become even stronger.
At this point, it's becoming increasingly difficult to try fighting off Kirishima. Every breath of laughter that escapes him only further drains his energy. Utilizing his quirk would be in vain; Kirishima probably expects him to, especially after the minuscule fireworks that crackled in his palms as a warning. He'd just harden up and protect himself before going in for more.
“St.. stahap…!” One thing's for sure though and that's the way Bakugou's body now feels: softened, tired, and pliant - a total opposite to the rigid aches he was plagued with an hour prior. This may very well have been Kirishima’s plan the entire time, or, perhaps it was just good luck on his side. Whatever the case may be, as Bakugou’s head lulls to the side to release lazy giggles while Kirishima’s fingers finally begin to cease their assault, he can’t deny how much easier it is to just relax and permit his frame to go limp against the bed’s surface. Soft pants echo around stray chuckles that don’t match the glare he shoots his boyfriend’s way.
“Aha.. I know, I know,” Kirishima muses, leaning to plant a swift kiss to the blond’s slightly sweaty forehead before he can try to languidly shove at him for the attack, “You can kick my ass after you have a nap. You look exhausted.”
“Mnn… don’t talk t’me like I’m fuckin’ five.. it’s all your fault.. anyway..” But the breaks in his sentence from short yawns and the dewy glaze of sleep tugging at his subconscious give him away without a doubt. Medium lashes flutter gently before thin lids hover over crimson, slowly falling until sight is given to darkness and Bakugou begins to drift. Kirishima takes it upon himself to settle a slim blanket over the other male, granting him a soft, loving smile, before rising and migrating to the nearby desk across the room. With Bakugou sound asleep, he can probably get some homework in before he wakes up… and decides that he does want revenge.
midoriya has spent the majority of his young life studying the heroes that surround him. he’s taken ink to paper and scribed every way they move, every new installation of skill into their quirks, every addition or subtraction they make to their hero costumes or weapons. he’s got a pocket full of knowledge that has driven his own dreams and ambitions to become the world’s next number one hero, and one thing he knows for certain, is that he’s got quite the rival to beat out for the top spot.
the rival with a bite that’s much scarier than his bark.
the rival with a great sense of ambition, who has never allowed anything to step in the way of achieving his goals.
the rival who was the first person of his age group that midoriya looked upon and thought ⎯⎯ now he’s going to be a hero who wins. midoriya’s got a handful of notes about him to prove how much he believes that.
his mind wanders with the saturday morning breeze that filters in through the cracked window of his dorm, waning as soon as it reaches the two bodies sharing the extra large twin bed. a smile blooms along midoriya’s lips, ever as delicate as the draft, as emerald gaze watches the rising sunlight capture a piece of katsuki’s shoulder. the skin under the sun’s attention glows as though made from the illumination itself, and midoriya doesn’t manage to catch himself before the apexes of his fingers discover themselves in contact with where the sun touches.
bakugo doesn’t shift, but he sighs softly through his nostrils and remains in slumber, unbothered by the caress simply because even in his dreams, he recognizes who those fingers belong to.
his boyfriend’s skin has always been of great interest to midoriya and sometimes he catches himself wondering if that fact could come off as creepy. it’s directly related to the blond’s quirk ( is what he and every other person who makes a big deal out of bakugo’s skin tells themselves ) and somehow, that makes it feel a little more okay, but then you reach into the category of research and studying, and the ofa user draws back again because they’re intimate now. he’s not as keen on using his boyfriend as an intellectual expedition for a better understanding of his quirk.
he’d get an earful from bakugo for sure, like he has in the past.
right now, however, with the freedom of the beginning of the weekend giving way to allow the students some idea of rest, bakugo is taking the opportunity to sleep in and midoriya is taking advantage of that. his fingers travel the broadness of his shoulder, sweeping along the pronounced collar bone until he finally feels a stir from the fellow student. he mimics the action and bakugo’s body responds again. amusement builds within the hollow of his stomach, bubbling like a bath, and his fingers bring attention elsewhere.
down the middle of his chest, he compares the skin of his fingers to the skin underneath them. both scarred, in some ways that are different and other ways that are similar. the stark contrast is bakugo’s inherent softness as a result of half of his quirk coming from his mother. glycerin is such an interesting substance ⎯⎯ bakugo’s scars heal faster and better, he’s never had acne for more than a day or a two, and there’s always a subtle, lingering sweetness in his scent. hell, midoriya’s even tasted it in their kisses. in his mind, it’s another aspect that keeps bakugo ahead of the game in their generation.
“nh ⎯⎯.. i oughta beat yer’ ass…”
midoriya’s still getting used to the way his heart races a mile a minute when he’s blessed with bakugo’s morning voice. it’s gruff and raspy, but the grogginess of it makes him sound subdued, tame.
“for?”
“wakin’ me up this fuckin’.. early on a goddamn saturday, nerd…”
“oh⎯⎯” he realizes the touches may have altered from soothing into more ticklish territory, but honestly, that only refreshes the smile upon midoriya’s features, “heh… my bad, kacchan. i wasn’t trying to wake you up, i got distracted by…” he goes silent for a second, debates on what words to use, “.. how cool your quirk is.”
sleepily, bakugo raises an eyebrow at him, and midoriya can tell how confused he is even when half of his face is concealed by the pillows he’s buried himself in.
“the hell are you talkin’ about, huh..?”
“your quirk..! like, um.. well, for example, these scars you got from training last week are already healed.”
midoriya’s index and middle finger trace the jagged, slight discoloration of the aforementioned scar, right next to the front of his ribs. his eyes widen when bakugo’s stomach sucks in and he shoves his face further into the pillow to refrain the puff of laughter on the edge of his tongue from escaping. when he glances up again, midoriya’s entire visage is alight with mild glee and bakugo finds it rather disconcerting.
“or ⎯⎯” his boyfriend continues on, moving that hand to lay all five fingers against his sides, “the fact that you’re really soft when you compare my skin to yours. i can guess that that’s because glycerin is a natural moisturizer and since you make it naturally, of course it stands to reason that you’d have smoother skin.” before bakugo has a chance to make a rebuttal, midoriya starts to squeeze at his sides, slowly sliding up and down the length of him.
“ah..! hey! w-wahait! wait a dahahamn sehehecond⎯!” tiredness has sapped his self control, leaving bakugo a victim to his gentle giggles. he squirms against midoriya’s touch, trying to push himself away from the assaulter’s body, only to be dismally reminded that he slept against the wall.
“but you’re so adorable right now! i missed this smile!” the shorter protests, placing his other hand in the action and using it to scribble along bakugo’s ribs. he keeps the sensations light though, never applying much more pressure than soft spidering, squeezing, or poking, and already, bakugo’s been reduced to a wiggle worm drowning in pitchy cackles.
“st⎯stahahap! dohohon’t, don’t , nohoho..!”
“y’know, i think you’re even more ticklish than you were when you were a child.. i wonder if it’s because of you developing your quirk and using it so much that the glycerin is put to work more than before..”
midoriya pretends to become cross, brows furrowing over eyelids and a faux frown at the corners of his lips.
“ deku ? what happened to izuku ? have i been demoted again? that’s not very plus ultra of you, kacchan!” bastard is a regular occurrence, at this point it may as well be considered a mild moniker when coming out of bakugo’s mouth. but he’s cemented on teasing the blond about using deku on him again outside of the field, especially with the way their journey has led them beyond mending their friendship.
“fu⎯! FUHUhuck yohohou..!” he manages to cry out between his laughter, but there isn’t a shred of malice to insult, and how could midoriya take him seriously with a grin that wide splitting his face in half?
“tsk, tsk. that’s tough talk for someone as ticklish as you , katsuki .” rarely does midoriya ever use bakugo’s first name over his aged nickname, unless he wants to incite another rarity ⎯⎯ that being the blossoming of red across his cheeks, nearly the same striking shade as his eyes.
until the day bakugo dies, he refuses to acknowledge his fluster when midoriya makes use of his first name. midoriya hasn’t given up reaching the answer as to why, but in the meantime, he’ll take the opportunity to weaponize that fact against his boyfriend whenever he deems fitting.
and, as if to prove his point, digits scribble up bakugo’s ribs to settle right on top of the area where his top rib and armpit meet. bakugo’s laughter grows shaky and his eyes widen, recognizing the spot where his boyfriend’s got his fingers stationed, like a spider’s fangs ready to strike on its prey. he’s halted his tickling for now, and allowed the explosion user a bit of respite, but his body is still vibrating with the sensations of thirty seconds ago, which is still keeping his giggles flowing, quieter and calmer than they were prior.
“de⎯⎯ izuku , stohop.. cut me some slahack, it’s too muhuhuch, too ehearly..” bakugo’s realized that yelling expletives while being tickled does nothing but amuse his boyfriend and all but eliminates the chance of him stopping, so, he’ll play this card instead. unfortunately for him, when midoriya woke up, he apparently decided to choose chaos.
“too much? aw, kacchan, is the tickling too much for you?” midoriya coos, and to his obvious delight, he observes bakugo’s blush darken in hue.
“i⎯⎯! shut⎯⎯shut up idiot, that’s not what i meANT, NOHO⎯!” the latter of his words evolved into a small shriek when midoriya drilled his fingers into the spot they’d been sitting at, but only for a moment until he stopped his actions once more.
bakugo’s entire body buzzed like he’d just touched an electric prank toy. he has no clue what midoriya’s playing at, stopping the attack almost as soon as it had commenced. crimson gazes watches him, attempting to see past that innocent grin he wears, but midoriya leaves no room for guessing games when his fingers animate again and glide all too softly over his ribs and down to his stomach.
“whahat are yohohou doihihing..?! just gehehet on wihith it ahalrehehehady!”
“just get on with it? oh, you want me to tickle you more , kacchan? is that it? i bet even this tickles pretty bad , huh?”
“but when i tease you, i get to see more of that blush i love so much. how can i not want to talk about how ticklish you are? or how cute your sleepy laughter is? that’s like asking me not to take hero notes, kacchan!”
and as if on cue, the flush on bakugo’s cheeks seems to grow, spreading now to his ears and nearly to his neck, much to midoriya’s utter joy. midoriya’s hands find themselves skirting down to bakugo’s lower waist, tracing shapes and aimless patterns into the skin, which in turn elicit a bigger reaction from his boyfriend. he’s still trapped against the wall, much to his dismay, so despite the now louder laughter and heightened wiggling, bakugo still has very little means of escape.
in all of this motion, his pajama bottoms have wriggled just a small bit off of his hips, and midoriya, curious as ever, sneaks over to the area, wraps his fingers over just above where the waist and hips meet and delivers a few consecutive squeezes.
the way bakugo bucks so hard he nearly shoves midoriya off of the bed that’s truly too small for two guys with their body types to share, has midoriya momentarily stunned. albeit, not shocked enough to miss the squeal that tore from bakugo’s lips ( and may get them in some trouble later by their peers ). once midoriya gathers his bearings, he glues his fingers to that newly discovered gold mine of a spot, an eyebrow risen and his grin a little sharp.
“ oh? don’t tell me i found another tickle spot? and such a reactive one! death spot number 2, huh kacchan?”
“don’t you even fuckin’⎯⎯!!”
but it was much too late. midoriya realizes that if he doesn’t take the chance now, it would be a fight to have it again later. immediately, he digs into that same area, squeezing or rubbing nonsense into the sensitive flesh and bakugo melts into howling laughter, with little to no safeguard except his own limbs. he kicks against the bed, completely dishelving the blankets and even the sheets, which bunch up and wrinkle underneath them.
as much as midoriya would love to continue reducing his usually antagonistic and abrasive boyfriend into a flustered, squirmy, belly - laughing puddle of jello, bakugo’s been loud for awhile now and has probably woken up most, if not all of the other students on the same floor, and he’s certain that they’re going to be receiving some noise complaints. so, he slows his fingers down to their final complete stop and instead opts to smooth his hand up bakugo’s chest to soothe him down. he’s so much warmer than he was before, even with the cracked window inviting in more cool morning air.
“you’re… so fuckin’ lucky that i’m still tired.. cheeky lil’ shit..” he warns between soft pants, his lips still quirking on a wobbly smile as midoriya scoots closer to him again to snuggle up into his tickle - induced warmth.
“we can’t stay in bed all day, kacchan.. remember that we have things to do later..” his words end on a yawn, seems his body enjoys the notion of sleeping in a little longer too.
“shut up nerd, i remember.. you just better wake up before me, or i’ll be gettin’ my revenge.. a lot sooner than ya’ think..” he can feel bakugo’s chest begin to rise and fall with the sound of his breathing, and eventually the mellow, almost inaudible snores follow right behind.
they both know that his words are as much a promise as they are a threat; a promise that he has every intent on keeping, even if he doesn’t wake up before his boyfriend. with that piece of excitement in mind, midoriya lays his head against bakugo’s chest, right above where the rhythm of his heartbeat helps him drift off too.
A/N: I watched the "future" episode of BNHA and how could I not notice the special manufacture of Bakugou's backseat? Well, the three of them in one car was just too good to be left out.
Words: 3,229 words under the cut
The inside of Bakugou’s car was warmer than Midoriya expected. Not just temperature-wise, but also the seats. He shifted slightly in the back, then stilled. “…Whoa.” He sank, actually sank. The soft cushion gave way under him in this slow, almost ridiculous way, like it was hugging him back.
He leaned his head against the side, his shoulders relaxing before he even noticed it happening. “Your car is really comfortable, Kacchan,” he said, a little softer than usual. “Tch. Obviously,” Bakugou replied from the driver’s seat, “didn’t buy it to be uncomfortable.”
From the passenger seat, Kirishima twisted around halfway, resting his arm over the backrest as he looked at Midoriya. “Dude, you look super comfy back there,” he laughed. “Yeah, it’s surprisingly fluffy,” Midoriya commented, then shifted again. He sank even deeper. “…It feels like floating on a cloud...”
Kirishima grinned. “Careful, you might not make it to the reunion. We’ll have to peel you out of the seat.” “Don’t joke about that,” Bakugou muttered, “if he gets stuck, I’m leaving him.” Midoriya smiled faintly, already relaxed in a way he hadn’t been all week.
They were on their way to see everyone again- properly, with no emergencies, no missions - just a reunion - and for once, things felt… easy. The car hummed quietly for a while, city lights slid across the windows in soft streaks. For a moment, it almost felt peaceful, then Kirishima turned in his seat slightly.
“Still kinda wild, huh?” the redhead said, glancing between the road and Midoriya. “Todoroki making number two.” Midoriya nodded immediately. “Yeah… but it makes sense. He’s been working really hard and his control’s gotten so much better since U.A. - like, remember during training camp when-”
“Oh man,” Kirishima laughed, cutting in, “training camp was chaos.” Midoriya perked up a bit more. “It really was! Actually- Kirishima, didn’t you-” The redhead titled his head slightly. “Didn’t I what?” Midoriya hesitated for a moment. Then smiled as he remembered. “You… ehm You got really flustered that one time.” Kirishima blinked. “Huh, did I?”
“There was that time with the training weights and Mina,” Midoriya added, a little more confidently now, “when she teased you about-” “HEY,” Kirishima cut in quickly, pointing at him, “watch it, that was ages ago...” he mumbled, a bit flustered now. Midoriya froze for a second, then laughed a little. “I’m just saying! You turned really red-” “I did not!”
“You did! And you kept trying to act normal afterwards, but it was really obvious that-” Kirishima turned fully in his seat now, grin sharp but just slightly strained. “Midoriya, come one man, that’s not very manly...” Midoriya, now fully in the memory, didn’t stop. “And then Kaminari made it worse because he kept bringing it up, and you just-”
“Midoriya,” Kirishima repeated, slower this time, “please, I’m warning you!” Bakugou’s eyes narrowed slightly in the rearview mirror. “Oi, Deku.” However, the green bean was still muttering, now half-laughing to himself at his own recollections, completely unaware of the warning tone in Kirishima’s voice - much to the redhead’s dismay.
“And then during that same week, there was actually that other time where you-” “Alright, that’s it,” Kirishima said suddenly, “you asked for it!” Midoriya looked up, still half-muttering. “Huh? Asked for it…?” Kirishima’s grin turned sharper at the edges.
“Bringing up that old story about my- *cough* anyways, you’re in trouble now Midoriya, because I also remember something from training camp… the pull-up bar incident…” Kirishima teased, wiggling a hand at him. That made Midoriya pause. Then blink. Then he looked genuinely confused. “…EH! You’re g-g-gonna t-tickle me?”
Bakugou sighed loudly. “Don’t start anything in my car!” The car slowed slightly at a red light and came to a stop. Kirishima stared at him. “Bakugou?” Bakugou exhaled through his nose as he side-eyed his friend. “Don’t you dare-”
But there was a fire burning in his friend’s ruby eyes - nothing could stop him now, not his seatbelt and not the blonde’s warning stare at him. Kirishima unbuckled his seatbelt. “I warned him.” “Shitty Hair- HEY! I said- argh- Kirishima!”
“Don’t worry, I’m not ruining your precious car interior, Bakugou,” Kirishima said as he leaned down, tugging his shoes loose quickly and kicking them off near the passenger footwell. Then he straightened, flexing his toes once against the floor. Midoriya blinked. “Wait- What?” “See? Not gonna mess up your car,” Kirishima said smiling.
“That’s not even- *sigh* I swear to god,” Bakugou growled, “if you even think about-” But Kirishima was already moving. Before Midoriya could even process what was happening, he turned himself around in one smooth motion, and climbed carefully over the center console into the backseat like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Midoriya’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait- K-Kirishima?” The redhead clicked his seatbelt into the backseat latch without even looking, then he looked at Midoriya, grinned, and launched forward. The green-haired barely had time to inhale before Kirishima’s hands found his flanks, eagerly scribbling over them. The reaction was instant.
Midoriya’s entire body jolted the moment his hands landed at his sides, fingers digging in just enough to make him gasp. “EhEhe! NoHOHoHOHo!” Midoriya whined, trying to curl away, but the soft structure of the backseat betrayed him completely. Every time he tried to twist away, he just sank deeper into the cushion, his laughter spilling out uncontrollably.
“You had your chance!” Kirishima laughed as his fingers danced up and down his sides in quick, relentless motions that made Midoriya squirm helplessly. “AhH! BuhuHut iHiht- ehEhehh- iHit tihihickles!” “No kidding,” Kirishima shot back, grinning as he leaned closer, keeping him pinned more by presence than force.
“Hahaha- w-wait! I cahaHhan’t!” “Yeah, I can see that,” Kirishima laughed, already enjoying this way too much. Bakugou’s voice cut in from the front. “HEY! Are you seriously doing this right now?! In my car?!” Kirishima didn’t even look up. “He started it!”
“I did NOT start- EEK!” Midoriya’s protest dissolved into laughter as Kirishima shifted his grip, fingers now targeting his lower ribs in quick, rhythmic bursts that made it impossible to catch his breath properly. “D-Dehahahah- K-Kirishima-kun stoohohop!” Bakugou’s eye twitched.
“I am seconds away from throwing both of you out.” But even as he said it, his voice wasn’t as sharp as before. His eyes wandered to the rearview mirror, despite himself, and he could see it clearly: Midoriya laughing too hard to even sit upright, Kirishima fully leaning into the moment, grinning like an idiot while continuing his relentless tickle assault.
Something about it - that annoying, loud, stupidly familiar laughter - made Bakugou’s mouth twitch upward before he could stop it. “Tch.” Kirishima looked up in that very moment, not even stopping his ticklish assault, and their eyes met. His smirked back at the other, as if catching him red-handed.
The blonde quickly looked away, focusing back on the road again, a faint blush creeping up to his ears. The light finally turned green and Bakugou stepped on the gas. However, the laughing didn't stop, it only got more intensive. Bakugou played with the thought to switch on the radio, but that would've been more annoying.
“Keep it quiet, someone tries to drive he-” “Pfft- aHAHAHAHAhahAHAH!” Midoriya’s laughter cut him off entirely, bright and uncontrollable as Kirishima suddenly switched spots, fingers slipping up toward his armpits in quick, teasing bursts. “Hey! Don’t ignore me, I said-” “NO! NOHOHOT THERE!” “Oh, that’s a bad spot?” Kirishima’s grin widened. “Good to know~”
Midoriya tried to grab his wrists, but his hands kept missing, his coordination completely gone as he laughed. “K-Kirishima plehehease! I’m soHohorry!” “You were talking big a minute ago,” Kirishima teased, scribbling faster. “I- HAHA I wasn’t!” Bakugou groaned audibly for them to hear. The redhead looked up again, trying to give the other an apologizing look.
"Hehe sorry Bakugou, it's not my fault Midoriya is so ticklish~" Using the momentum of the red-haired’s distraction, Midoriya managed to somehow catch Kirishima’s side, immediately squeezing it. Kirishima jerked. “H-HEY!” he giggled. Midoriya, still laughing, took advantage of it right away, poking into his side with clumsy but determined fingers. “G-GoHot you!”
“OH, you wanna go?!” Kirishima shot back, laughing, as he immediately dove back in, tickling him harder. Both of them laughing, both trying to tickle the other, though Kirishima clearly had the upper hand - better reach, better control, and Midoriya still half-trapped in the stupidly soft seat. “HaAhhaha! K-Kirishima!”
The redhead didn't even need to use his Quirk to hold the upper hand - well, he wouldn't have done so anyways. For once, it was unmanly to cheat and for second Bakugou would kill him for sure, if he would use his Hardening Quirk inside his car. Bakugou clicked his tongue again, his patience reaching his climax.
“Shut up,” he muttered, glancing up at the mirror again. “EheHEHE MidoriHiya, you started t-thiHis!” “I dihihid not!” Bakugou slammed his palm lightly against the steering wheel. “SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!” Neither of them did.
Midoriya’s laughter came in breathless bursts now, his attempts to fight back getting weaker as Kirishima kept finding those same spots over and over again, like he was memorizing them on the fly, fingers now wiggling and poking his stomach. “Okay- Okay! StHohop- I’m- ahAhahH I’m soOHohorrry!” “You already tried that,” Kirishima laughed.
“Thihihis time I mean it!” “Oh~ So you were lying back there, ehh~” “NOhoHOHHOH! AhAHAHAHHH!” They reached another red light an Bakugou executed an unnecessarily hard emergency stop. The interior of the car finally fell silent. He turned around and stared at the two of them, an - unknown to him - almost jealous-looking expression on his face.
“If I hear one more laugh or giggle from either of you, I’m leaving you on the side of the road, for real this time,” he said flatly, before facing the street again. Kirishima finally eased up, hands slowing, then stopping entirely. "Sorry, Bakugou... I got a bit too excited," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Midoriya slumped back fully into the seat, chest rising and falling, a breathless laugh still escaping him every now and then. "Kacchan I..." Midoriya didn't continue, unsure what to say. From the front, Bakugou glanced at the mirror one more time, sighing. “…Dumbasses, try to keep it quite at least, okay?” But he didn’t sound annoyed. Not really.
Kirishima grinned, giving him a thumbs up. “You got it, bro~” Midoriya huffed, still smiling despite himself, visibly relaxed. “Of course, Kacchan~” The two giggled to themselves, exchanging small pokes and squeezes for the rest of the drive, unaware of the other's gaze as he watched his two friends continues little tickly squirrel at the back seat.
...
Bonus
The engine cut off with a sharp, final click. Silence settled inside the car. Bakugou kept his hands on the wheel for a second longer than necessary, exhaling slowly through his nose like he was trying very hard not to say something. He only managed to hold back for a few seconds. “You two are annoying as hell.”
Midoriya, still a little slumped into the backseat, let out a quiet, leftover breath of laughter while Kirishima snorted beside him. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” Kirishima said, “and don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at us,” he teased. Bakugou turned his head just enough to glare at them over his shoulder. “You were screaming.”
“I wasn’t screaming,” Midoriya protested weakly. “You absolutely were,” Bakugou shot back, “both of you. The whole damn drive!” Kirishima stretched his arms behind his head, completely unbothered by his friend’s words. “Sounds like someone’s jealous he wasn’t having fun.” Bakugou’s eye twitched. “I don’t need that kind of ‘fun’,” he snarled.
There was a slight pause. Then Kirishima slowly turned his head. Midoriya did the same. They looked at each other and something unspoken passed between them almost instantly. Bakugou noticed. “…Don’t.” The redhead’s grin spread first, Midoriya’s followed - smaller, but definitely there. “Don’t what, Ka-tsu-ki?” Kirishima asked innocently.
Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “I know that look.” “You’re imagining things,” Midoriya said, which already sounded like a lie. Bakugou opened his door. “I’m getting out.” He didn’t make it. Two hands grabbed him at once and the door closed again. “HEY?!”
Kirishima hooked an arm around his middle from behind, pulling him backward, while Midoriya grabbed his arm to keep him from bracing against the door. Bakugou twisted immediately, but the angle was all wrong - half-turned in his seat, caught off-balance - and then he was dragged back.
“WHAT THE HELL, SHITY HAIR?!” Kirishima shifted fast, sitting back properly and pulling Bakugou with him, until Bakugou ended up in his lap. “Are you serious right now?!” Bakugou snapped, trying to push himself up, but Kirishima locked his arms loosely around him, keeping him in place - not tight, just enough so that he couldn’t break free.
“We thought you might need some tickles as well,” Kirishima said brightly, a smug grin on his face. Midoriya smiled at his childhood friend. “…S-Sorry, Kacchan.” “Deku, don’t you dare-” Kirishima’s stroke first, fingers digging into the blonde’s side. Bakugou jerked. A sharp inhale- then a short, startled sound slipped out before he could stop it. “NnGn!”
He cursed on the inside, by his body’s betrayal. “Oh?” The redhead’s grin widened instantly. “No way, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight is still as ticklish as ever, awesome~” Bakugou immediately clamped his mouth shut, glaring. “Try it again and I’ll-” Kirishima did. Both hands this time, fingers pressing and scribbling into his sides, right above his hips.
Bakugou’s shoulders tensed hard. “Tch-! KiHirishi- n-noHOho!” But his body reacted anyway - jerking again, breath hitching as he tried to twist out of Kirishima’s hold. “Stay still,” Kirishima laughed, adjusting his grip just enough to keep him from slipping away, “you know you’re gonna like it, so just enjoy it~” he teased. “Huh! F-FuUHuck ohohoff!”
Bakugou was doing his best to break free from him, but the tickling made it really difficult to gather his strength. “LehehHt gohoo of me, damn it!” he cursed, feeling his face heating up from embarrassment. Midoriya shifted closer. “…Kirishima? Ehm, where-” “Shoes,” Kirishima said immediately, not even looking at him, “take ‘em off.” Bakugou froze. “…Don’t.”
Fuck, he was so damn screwed. Midoriya hesitated for only a second. Then reached down. “Kacchan, I- uh-” “Deku!” That tone should’ve stopped him - it didn’t. He grabbed Bakugou’s kicking leg in an armlock and slipped his shoe off, revealing a black wiggling sock, before letting it fall to the floormat. Kirishima laughed under his breath. “Too late now.”
Bakugou tried to jerk his legs back, but between the cramped space, Kirishima holding him in place, and the way he was half-sitting, half-leaning he didn’t get far, and before he could stop it, Midoriya had pulled off his other shoe as well, keeping the foot in a strong hold. “Don’t you-” Bakugou began just as Midoriya’s fingers brushed against the fabric of his sock.
Bakugou sucked in a breath. “DeHehku, I swear-” he cursed, the first reactions already bubbling out of him. Midoriya wiggled his fingers and Bakugou snorted. His entire body jolted as his foot twitched hard, pressing back into the redhead instinctively. “Pfft- FuHuhck- nohoHOHOHO! HAHAHaHAhH!” Kirishima lost it immediately. “No way- Did you just?!”
“ShuHUhut uHUhup! AHHaHAHAHAHH!” Bakugou laughed. Midoriya blinked, surprised- then smiled, just a little. “…Kacchan, you’re still really ticklish, I’m glad.” “I am noHOhot and d-doHoHohon’t be happy about iHihiit!” Midoriya tried again, slower this time. His fingers dragged lightly over the sole, sliding over his arch and the hell.
Bakugou bit down hard on whatever sound tried to escape, but it came out anyway, sharp and uneven. “NnGhHH!” His leg kicked. Kirishima tightened his hold just enough to keep him from slipping forward, laughing as he continued working at his sides. “Man, you’re way worse than Midoriya!” “SceeHEhew yohoOu! BoOHohth of you!”
Out of anger, he tried to kick Midoriya with his still free leg in the back, but ended up having it been caught in his armlock as well, and he cursed innerly for his own stupidity. Midoriya’s fingers moved more confidently, tracing little lines, then quick scribbles, right across the most sensitive spots of his soles - even through the fabric, it was enough.
Bakugou’s composure cracked. A sharp exhale turned into a short, choked laugh. Then another. “HahahAh st-stoHOhop!” “Say please,” Kirishima teased. “GHoo. ToHohoo. H-HehEhehll!” “Suit yourself~” Kirishima immediately dug his fingers in harder at his sides, fingers pressing softly into the flanks of his blonde friend.
Bakugou jerked back against his chest, a real laugh breaking through this time - loud, unguarded, completely against his will. Midoriya froze for a second - he didn’t hear that often. A warm smiled crossed his face. Then, carefully, he kept going. “K-Kacchan, your reactions are really- um adorable~”
Bakugou kicked again as his feet was tickled more insistently, laughter spilling out between clenched teeth. “I saHahid shuHut up DeHek- IzuHuhuku!” Bakugou laughed and him calling his name didn’t go unnoticed by the other. Kirishima leaned his chin briefly against Bakugou’s shoulder, grinning as he continued. “Dude, you’re so done.” “I wiHiill kiHill yoHou!”
“You can try,” Kirishima laughed. The car filled with noise again - laughter, protests, half-formed threats. Bakugou twisted, tried to grab Kirishima’s wrists, tried to yank his feet away, but every movement just made it worse, opening him up to more ticklish spots, more reactions he couldn’t control.
Midoriya’s fingers slipped under the edge of his right sock just slightly, wiggling along the bare ankle of the wiggling captee while keeping them in a strong hold, and Bakugou lost it. A sharp, unfiltered burst of laughter broke out of him, head tipping back against Kirishima’s shoulder before he could stop it. “No! Stohohop! NoHOhot thAHAht!” he almost pleaded.
“Got him,” Kirishima said, way too pleased. It went on like that - longer than it probably should have. Long enough for Bakugou’s threats to lose their edge. Long enough for his resistance to turn into desperate squirming. Long enough for both Midoriya and Kirishima to be laughing just as hard as he was.
Eventually, Kirishima slowed first. “Alright, alright,” he said, easing up, “I think we made the others wait long enough…” Midoriya followed, pulling his hands back, sheepishly looking to the side. Bakugou slumped forward immediately, breathing harder than he’d ever admit, face flushed bright red. “…I hate both of you,” he pouted, crossing his arms
“Yeah, yeah,” Kirishima said easily, petting his head. Midoriya smiled a little, still catching his breath. “Sorry, Kacchan…” Bakugou shot him a glare that had absolutely no bite left in it.
…A little later…
The three of them stepped into the venue. Voices, laughter, familiar faces - it all hit them at once. “Yo!” Kaminari spotted them immediately, jogging over with a grin. Then he stopped, looked at Bakugou, and paused. “…Why are you so damn red?” he asked, eyebrows raising. “Did you run here or something?”
Bakugou’s expression darkened instantly. “Shut up, Dunce Face,” he snarled and stomped away, leaving the three of them back. Kaminari looked questioning at the other two. “Did I say something wrong?” Kirishima snorted. Midoriya looked away, trying- and failing not to smile. They had much to explain…
I feel like Eyefestation has 100% gone after Sebastian before- grumpy boy snarks at everyone, no exceptions- but since Eyefestation can only really do verbal tickling, Eye does it at the most inconvienient times like right before people go into Seb's shop so he's all twitchy and keyed up while struggling to play it cool
sup dude, saw your post and i saw you‘re also in the roblox pressure fandom
how abouuuuuut you maybe write a (platonic!!!!) tickle fic between Sebastian and reader?
y‘know the flash bang gun? or maybe when you keep going back and forth through his shop, he gets mad? yeah, maybe write about the reader just annoying him too much
or headcanons about Sebastian
up to ya!
YES! I JUST ADDED THAT TO MY LIST! 💙 I'll also probably do headcanons at some point! 🙏
Don't. Do that. Again.
Sebastian x gender neutral reader
LEE: Y/n LER: Sebastian
Warnings: none :)
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You jumped into the locker quickly, just seconds before angler pasted you. You sigh shakily, quickly jump out of the locker. Already feeling the panic of being inside for too long, starting to set in.
You stumbled along the rest of the room, opening the door to room 50. You didn't even bother to check the drawers as you walked. Determined as ever to get this nightmare of a trip over and done with.
Suddenly, a vent bursts open. You jumped back, ready to defend yourself if needed.
"Psst! In here!"
A voice is heard coming from inside. You sighed. You know the drill by now. You crawl inside, only to be met by the one and only Sebastian.
"Ah! The one who can't seem to keep their coffin shut, huh?"
Sebastian said in an almost mocking tone. You roll your eyes. Already looking around the shop for supplies. You had barely picked up anything from the last 50 rooms. Only having a code breacher and a shitty and crank flashlight on your person.
"Jeez Y/n, you look rough."
Sebastian said mockingly. But he was right. You looked down at the contents on Sebastian's tail, instantly grabbing the medkit.
"I didn't think you'd be this bad still. I mean, you've died what? 40 times now?"
Sebastian commented with a grin. You looked up at him. Rolling your eyes once again as you feel the medkit started to take effect. You were already getting sick of him. It would take a while for you to be somewhat okay to head back out there. That means being stuck in here with *him* while you waited. great.
You sat down on a box, kicking your legs absentmindedly as you looked at the floor. Sebastian didn't say anything else, much to your relief. He just sighed, going through files and data.
You sighed as well, already bored as hell. You look around the shop. Glancing at the raido, the batteries on the table. But then, you spot a flash beacon on a shelf. Despite doing this over and over, you never really picked up one of these on any runs.
You fiddled around with it. Examining it from top to bottom. It still had batteries in it. You sighed again. just as you thought. It was useless. You were about to place it back on the shelve. When you dropped it. The flash beacon fell to the floor, landing in its side facing Sebastian, and it went off.
The room lit up. Sebastian's eyes widened before he quickly covered them, dropping the files he was looking at. You felt your heart drop right to your stomach.
Sebastian uncovered his eyes. Growling as he reached out and grabbed you. His massive hand wrapped right around you, trapping your arms at your sides. Your breathing started getting heavier as Sebastian leaned in closer with a growl.
"Don't. Do that. Again."
Sebastian snarled. You squeezed your eyes shut. Expecting to be thrown to the floor or even killed. It was an accident. You didn't mean for the beacon to go off! You waited, and waited, but nothing came. You slowly but hesitantly opened your eyes. You were still trapped in Sebastian's grip. But now Sebastian was chuckling.
"Jeez, you should have seen your face!"
He cackled. You blinked a few times. Still a little shaken up. Sebastian looked back down at you, still keeping you in his grasp.
"Oh, come on, buddy. *Lighten* up a little...~"
Sebastian teased. That was definitely meant to be a pun. Sebastian squeezed you lightly as he spoke. However, one of his claws dug into your side as he did so.
You jumped slightly. Your breath hitching as you let out a small noise, almost like a squeak. Trying to hold back any laughter that bubbled in your throat.
Sebastian paused for a moment. He blinked, a little worry seeping in, thinking that he had hurt You. But when he saw the look on your face. He grinned. Oh no...
"Oh... I see now..."
Sebastian chuckled, showing off his sharp teeth. He didn't even give you time to react or process before he reached out with his other clawed hand. Instantly digging into your side.
You sqeaked. Wriggling in his grasp as you giggled. Sebastian grinned his clawed hand, squeezing and raking up and down your side.
"What? Do you think I can let you go after flashing that thing at me like that? Not a chance, buddy~"
Sebastian grinned. You could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks. But you could deal with this. It's not like it could get any worse-
Sebastian moved his clawed hand to your tummy, raking his claws along it. You squealed louder, now kicking your legs desperately. It got so much worse!
"Jeez, you're so squirmy..."
Sebastian chuckled. He reached his third hand out. Squeezing just above your knee. Your squeals and giggles only got more high-pitched as it felt like little tickly electric shocks ran through your body.
"So squeaky too... what an odd place to be ticklish..."
Sebastian commented slyly. Keeping at the squeezing on your knee, the hand on your tummy now poking your belly button. Your face was bright red by this point. You didn't know if it was the tickles or the teasing that caused it. But right now, you didn't care as you squirmed and kicked. Your high-pitched giggles filling the shop.
His clawed hand moved down from your tummy to where your sides and hips met. Your eyes widened as he dug his clawed hand right in there. You squealed louder. Kicking your legs harder. You could feel the ends of your ears turning pink.
"What's wrong, squeaky? Does it tickle?~"
Sebastian teased grumbly. His voice getting lower at the end of his sentence. Your face burned red as you tried to squirm and kick. But he still had his hand on your damn knee, squeezing it everytime you kicked. You shook your head, the only thing you could really move. Sebastian smirked.
"No? Hm... well then..."
Sebastian pretended to think for a moment. His eyes lighting up with an idea. You didn't even have time to ask questions or speak before he leaned down, blowing a massive raspberry right on your tummy.
Your eyes widened as you burst into a fit of belly laughter. You struggled, trying to pull your arms out of his grasp to push his head away, but it was no use. Sebastian grinned against your tummy, blowing another raspberry.
It felt like it went on forever. You kicking and squealing. Your laughter filling the shop, Sebastian teasing you to know end. However, you started getting restless, and Sebastian decided he'd give *some* mercy and finally stopped. Leaving you panting and still giggling in his grasp. Sebastian chuckled down at you.
"There, there... that should teach you not to touch things you dont know..."
Sebastian smirked. Yet he didn't put you down, yet freed your arms. You looked up at Sebastian as you caught your breath, still giggling slightly as you half-heartedly glared at him. Sebastian chuckled. A little more fondly, patting your head.
"Your good, right?"
Sebastian asked. He tried to hide the concern in his voice but failed miserablely. You smiled slightly, nodding your head. Sebastian smiled a little too, averting his gaze from yours.
"Good..."
He paused.
"You'll still need to heal up though. You can stay in here and rest while you wait, or whatever..."
Sebastian mumbled. Moving you onto the floor, wrapping his massive tail around you gently. You blinked. He didn't meet your gaze. He looked almost embarrassed at his own actions.
"Just shut up and sleep or something..."
Sebastian grumbled. Picking up more files to distract himself. You smiled slightly, resting you back against his tail. You yawn, only now realising how tired you actually are. You looked up at Sebastian one more time as you got comfortable. Maybe Sebastian wasn't as bad as you thought. You looked up at him one final time before closing your eyes.
"Thanks, Sebastian..."
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DONE! I loved writing this! Definitely got me back into things! Also, it feels a little refreshing to take a break from writing about the mandela catalogue as much as I love it. 😅
...huh? oh! hey there!! didnt see you there, creepin in the shadows, fangs glistening, hungry for the souls of the damned! hiiiii! this is another long tickle fic and its for the hit roblox game Pressure!! i hope you enjoy it!!
this is a fic requested by [REDACTED]!! thank you so much for the request!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @august-anon
Feeling the Pressure
Words: 4,072
Pairing: Lee!Reader, some Ler!Sebastian
Warnings: Intense tickles, some foot tickles- also you die!!! tw death
Prompt: Spell
The corridor ahead breathed with that faint, mechanical hum you only ever notice when you're moving too fast. To anyone else, it might have been a suffocating silence, the quiet before some anomaly lunged out of the dark. But to you, it was a rhythm, a pattern. Every drip of condensation from the pipework, every hiss of a pressure valve, even the distant groan of shifting metal, it was all familiar music to you. You've done this run enough times to know its ins and outs.
The Hadal Blacksite was not forgiving, not by a mile. However, if you listened carefully, it was predictable. Every time you died, you knew with grim certainty that it was your fault, and that next time, you would be more prepared than the last.
Your boots scraped across the grating as you swung into another side chamber. Door... 27, if your count was correct. A half-collapsed storage nook, fluorescent lights buzzing like overgrown gnats. Your eyes swept the corners automatically: no shadows crawling where they shouldn't and no misplaced breathing. Clear.
That is when you saw it, lying on a crate in the center of the room like someone had just set it down and walked away.
Not Kroner, and not a breacher either.
It looked like a toy at first, something you'd hand to a kid, except... wrong. A crystalline rod, maybe the length of your forearm, capped with a jagged bulb of translucent glass. Strange grooves spiraled down the shaft like veins, glowing faintly with a pale lavender pulse. Every few seconds, the light shivered, like it was laughing at you.
You frowned, stepping closer. Urbanshade's junk usually looked... clinical, industrial. This was downright whimsical.
Still, you'd learned long ago that ignoring anomalies meant leaving potential tools on the table. You reached out and touched it. Cold... then warm, like it was shifting temperature to unsettle you.
When you lifted it, the grooves glowed brighter.
"...Huh."
The thought came half out of your mouth before you realized it. The weight was nothing, feather-light, almost begging to be waved around. And so, like the reckless idiot every runner is sometimes, you did.
With a flick of your wrist, a burst of air puffed across the crate, scattering dust over the far side of the room. Your eyebrows shot up.
You tried again, this time at the nearby wall. A faint shimmer traced the concrete before fading.
You grinned. "Okay, that's new."
Curiosity always burns hotter than caution. You aimed at a discarded barrel in the corner and gave it a playful swish. The thing vibrated, rattling like someone had shaken it from the inside. You stifled a laugh. This was harmless, whatever it was. Harmless and... weirdly fun.
And then you made the mistake of aiming it at yourself.
A ghost of pressure, no, of fingers, skimmed your wrist. You jerked, biting back a startled laugh. It stopped as quickly as it started, like the wand was teasing you.
You shook your head, chuckling nervously. "A-Alright, that's... a little much."
You twirled it again, amused. Maybe it was like the Toy Remote, one of those anomalies that were more joke than threat. Look, if Urbanshade wanted to stockpile silly artifacts from a clown's reject bin, that was their problem. For you, right now, it meant you had something to play with during the in-between.
And play you did, all the way down the next hallway. You poked it at pipes and watched them hiss louder. You flicked it at the flickering lights and made them spark. At one point, you even swished it at a door, just to see if it would magically open. (It didn't.)
The problem was, while you were amusing yourself, you weren't listening.
The metal scream hit first, the sound of claws dragging down steel from somewhere behind. Then the rush, that telltale hiss of water flooding through pipes at impossible speed. Your stomach sank. Angler!
You darted forward, scanning for cover. The lights in the hall dipped, then blazed with sickly brightness.
The locker! Your eyes locked on the battered storage unit set against the wall. No time to think, just move!
You yanked the door open, slid inside, and pulled it shut. Darkness swallowed you whole, except for the faint pulse of lavender light from the wand still clenched in your hand.
Your breath came shallow. You pressed yourself against the back of the locker, forcing the air out of your lungs, listening.
The Angler thundred past. Its roar echoed down the corridor, rattling the metal skin of your hiding place. For a moment, you thought it might stop. Then, silence. It was gone.
Relief washed through you, but it was short-lived because that's when you heard it.
A wet slurp from behind.
You froze. The smell hit next, like iron and rot, clinging to the back of your throat. Then the sound again, a ripple, a shift.
You tilted your head down, every nerve screaming denial.
Black sheen glistened in the faint glow of the wand. A puddle of void-mass. In the locker. With you.
Your heart kicked into overdrive. The space was too small, too tight. Nowhere to run. You'd trapped yourself.
The puddle shifted, tendrils lifting lazily like smoke, curling toward you. It didn't need to rush, you were cornered prey. Your grip on the wand tightened until your knuckles ached.
The thing inched closer. Your mind scrambled for options. None. No way out, no plan.
Desperation whispered.
You raised the wand, aimed it shakily behind you at the mass. Your hand moved before your brain caught up, flicking the crystal tip in the slightest, most pitiful gesture of defiance.
Light flared.
The void-mass convulsed.
For a moment, you thought it was going to explode. Then you realized it was quivering. Like it had been shocked with a thousand tiny pinpricks. The tendrils jerked, squirmed. The puddle rippled violently, spasming against the locker walls. Were those... squeaks you heard?
It looked... like it was laughing.
You blinked, sweat dripping down your temples. "No way," you whispered.
The wand pulsed again, and the puddle recoiled hard, smashing itself against the far corner of the locker to get away from the unseen phantom fingers tormenting it. You almost laughed yourself, half in hysteria and half in disbelief.
"Y-yeah," you breathed, voice shaking but edged with a grin. "And stay back!"
Slowly, cautiously, you reached for the locker handle. Your pulse still thundered in your ears.
You eased the door open and stepped out into the hall, never breaking eye contact with the puddle still writhing inside.
The moment you were clear, the puddle shot a tendril forward and slammed the locker door shut behind you with a metallic clang.
You didn't look back. You just gripped the wand tighter and started walking.
The door slid shut behind you with its heavy pneumatic hiss, and the first thing you did was collapse against the wall. Your lungs burned, your legs ached, and sweat slicked down the back of your neck.
Safe room at last.
The dim amber glow of the ceiling lights buzzed faintly overhead, the closest thing to comfort this place ever offered. The air was dry here, scrubbed clean of the chemical stench and saltwater tang that clung to the rest of the facility. Your whole body sagged in relief. You'd made it.
You looked down at the wand still clutched in your hand. Its grooves pulsed softly, almost smug.
You laughed weakly, the sound pressing against the sterile walls. "What... even are you?"
A void-puddle tickled into submission. The thought still made you shake your head in disbelief. You could already hear Sebastian's dry commentary in your head: "Ohh, yes, we catalogued that anomaly months ago. Harmless, unless you happen to be particularly sensitive."
Sensitive! The memory of that fleeting brush across your wrist earlier flickered through you, and you found yourself staring at the crystalline tip a little too long.
Curiosity gnawed at you again. You were safe. You had time. And no one was watching.
You sat down on the metal bench, holding the wand with a shaking hand. Slowly, carefully, you aimed it at your opposite forearm.
The glow brightened.
A feather-light stroke traced along the fine hairs of your skin. You flinched, breath catching in your throat. A high, startled laugh bubbled out of you before you could bite it back.
It stopped the second you lowered the wand.
You blinked down at your arm. Nothing there. No mark, no sensation lingering. Just the echo of that laugh in the empty room.
"...Oh, no..." you murmured, heart racing.
Because you already knew what was going to happen next.
You raised it again, this time toward your side. The crystal hummed.
Phantom fingers darted against your ribs, quick and relentless. You yelped, twisting sideways on the bench, a helpless giggle tearing loose. The invisible touches spread upward, brushing against your underarm, then darting down your stomach.
"AhahHAHA! OkahAHAHY okAhahaAY-!" You gasped, lowering the wand instinctively.
The tickling vanished.
You doubled over, panting, cheeks burning hot. Your whole body trembled with adrenaline.
It was real. Not just some silly parlor trick, not just a breeze or vibration. Actual tickling, impossible, entirely invisible, but... undeniable.
And worse... it responded to you.
You swallowed, staring at the thing. Any sane runner would have shoved it in their pack, locked it away until the fishy shopkeep could dissect it. But sanity had fled the moment you'd seen that void-puddle slam the door shut behind you, that monster which had ended so many previous runs for you, now scared of that wand's abilities.
You had to know.
You aimed again, this time at your stomach.
The wand pusled. A dozen phantom fingertips skittered across your belly at once. You shrieked, doubling over, arms wrapping tight as though that could shield you. The harder you tensed, the more insistent the invisible touches became, scribbling patterns that stole the breath from your lungs. It was trying to show you exactly how helpless you were.
"St-StOHoHoHOhOhOP!! OhOhOMyHyHYGohOhOD, StoHoHoHOP!!" Your voice cracked between helpless laughter.
And when you flicked the wand sideways in your struggle, the effect changed.
Phantom feathers now. Silky-soft, draaaagging across your neck, down the insides of your arms. You collapsed onto your side of the bench, kicking helplessly, laughter spilling without control.
Each motion with the wand shifted the sensation. A jab forward sent blunt pokes down your sides, staccato bursts that made you squeal. A twist of the wrist summoned ghostly invisible hands to squeeze at your waist, fingers dancing mercilessly.
It was like the wand was reading you, learning just where to press the hardest. Every flick unlocked a new tickly torment.
Your giggles bounced off the walls, echoing back at you like a chorus. You tried to smother them against your sleeve, but it didn't matter. No one could hear you here but yourself.
"Y-YouhUHUHu're NoHohOt RehHehhEal," you wheezed at the phantom fingers scribbling across your ribs, trying to will them out of existence. "Y-youHuHuhu're- juHuHuhUst- hEhehEHheE!! aAN OhOhOhObject-!!"
The wand pulsed brighter, as though amused.
The invisible touch slid down to your knees, spidering behind them until you kicked out violently, nearly dropping the wand. Your laughter broke into gasps, then shrieks, until you jammed the tip against the floor in desperation.
Everything stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening. Your chest heaved. Your arms wrapped protectively around your middle as if to shield yourself from something still there. Tears stung in your eyes from laughing too hard. Had you ever laughed this hard before?
You sat there for a long moment, shaking, before daring to pick the wand back up.
It flowed faintly again, innocently, like it hadn't just wrung you out like a rag doll.
Your lips curled into a dazed, breathless smile. "Y-youhuhu're dahangerous."
The wand pulsed as you set it down, but your mistake was when you pointed it towards you without thinking. The wand pulsed again, brighter than before, as if it had only been toying with you up until now. Before, it was just testing your sensitivity. You barely had time to register that thought before it hit you.
Phantom hands multiplied.
They came from everywhere at once! Curling under your arms, scribbling down your sides, kneading the backs of your knees until your legs kicked violently against the bench. Another set latched onto your feet, phantom fingers digging mercilessly at your arches and toes.
The laugh that ripped out of you didn't even sound human. It was raw, breathless, bursting out of you in helpless waves.
"AhahAHA!! NoHoHO!! NOhohOnoNOnOnOHOhO!!!" Your pleas dissolved into shrieking laughter. You twisted, rolled off the bench, hit the floor hard, and still couldn't escape the invisible touches.
Everywhere at once!
Ribs squeezed. Toes wiggled uncontrollably as phantom nails traced circles. Your stomach quivered beneath dozens of unseen fingertips. Each new wave layered over the last until your mind fuzzed with static, nothing but laughter and panic.
You couldn't even catch your breath. Tears blurred your vision, stinging hot as they spilled down your cheeks.
You tried grabbing the wand, tried to force it still, but every movement just triggered something new. A jab sent buzzing pokes at your sides. A twist unleashed a storm of feathers under your chin. When you dropped it for a moment in desperation, it only hummed brighter, punishing you with phantom hands clamping at your hips.
You couldn't think, couldn't process. It was like a curse, dragging you deeper into its rhythm. Your body convulsed, rolling on the sterile floor, half-sobbing between shrieks of laughter.
"HAhahAHHAHAHH-!! StHahHAHA- StHahaHAHAP!! PleHEhEHEHEASE!!!" Your voice was shredded, laughter breaking into hiccups.
It didn't listen.
You clawed at the ground, trying to crawl away, but your legs buckled as ghostly fingers dug into the backs of your knees again. Your arms flailed, catching nothing but air. Each desperate motion only seemed to please the wand more!
The intensity peaked, phantom touches everywhere, impossible to defend, your mind splintering into pure sensation. For one horrifying moment, you wondered if it would just keep going until you passed out entirely.
And then... silence.
The air stilled. Your body collapsed, boneless, onto the cool floor.
You lay there, gasping, chest heaving like you'd sprinted a mile at full tilt. Sweat plastered your hair to your forehead. Your uniform clung damp to your back. Every muscle trembled, weak from laughing too hard, too long.
The wand rested beside you, humming faintly, innocent as a lullaby.
You wiped your eyes with a shaking sleeve, giggles still bubbling out uncontrollably in aftershocks. Your ribs ached. Your throat was raw.
"... O-okahahay," you croaked, voice rough. "N-nehever... nehehever again."
Your hand twitched, reaching for the wand, then hesitated.
"M-mahaybe... maybe again lahater..."
The glow pulsed once, as if agreeing.
Getting back on your feet took longer than you wanted to admit. Your legs shook like you were balancing on a tightrope, each step unsteady. You shoved the wand into your belt, still wary of what it might do if you held it too long.
You staggered toward the door. Safe room time was over.
The hallway outside felt colder than usual. Your ears rang faintly, whether from leftover laughter or the facility's hum, you couldn't tell. You forced yourself forward, trying to shake the fog out of your head.
Moving into the next room, you heard it: mechanical whirring, servos clicking.
Searchlights.
Your stomach dropped.
Its massive body floated far above you, gleaming eyes scanning, its harpoons bristling with anticipation. Typically, you would've timed its patrol path, ducked between its blind spots, or maybe tossed an item to distract. Easy.
But your limbs weren't listening. Your knees still wobbled. Your head still spun. Every nerve was fried, twitching with phantom echoes of tickling that weren't even there anymore.
You moved too slowly.
The creature spun toward you, screeching with static. A beam of light shot out, line-of-sight locking onto you instantly. Your heart lurched.
"W-wait, no, I-!"
Too late.
The harpoons lashed forward. Pain exploded through your chest as the world fractured into black.
There was the liminal nothingness between runs, a void, and then, of course...
...Sebastian.
The lamp burned between you, outlining his sharp features in mocking glow. His arms folded across the counter as he leaned in, smirk already tugging at his mouth.
"Well, well," he drawled, his voice like sandpaper dipped in oil. "Back again, and so soon. Didn't make it too far, did we~?"
You winced, heat flooding your cheeks. You couldn't meet Sebastian's eyes. "Got distracted," you muttered.
"Distracted?" His tone wrapped around the word like it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. He slid the document for the Searchlights forward, flipping it open, but it didn't interest either of you now. "How tragic. Shall I hazard a guess at the cause?"
Your blush deepened. Your hand pressed against your belt, and you felt a little disappointed at not finding the wand there, that stupid, cursed wand.
He tapped the counter with a long, clawed finger, smile widening. "No need to confirm. I can see it written all over your face. Whatever you picked up, it seems it had more... influence over you than any other entity in the facility."
Your throat tightened. "It's not like that."
"Mmm." His eyes glinted, unconvinced, as his glowing bulb drifted overhead. "Of course not. You simply forgot how to run properly after spending some quality time in a safe room with some artifact designed for...? Survey says? Pleasure, defense?" He chuckled, low and cruel. "Perhaps something else~?"
You nearly choked on your own spit. "I-! It-! That's-!"
He raised a hand, silencing you with a lazy wave. "No matter. The point stands. It killed you as surely as any monster could have. A pity that you lost it, though. I would have liked to examine it myself."
You slumped, mortified, wishing the dark would swallow you whole.
Sebastian leaned closer, grin wicked. "Next time, try to survive long enough to bring it back to me, hm? I'd very much enjoy... experimenting."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands.
"Distracted," he repeated softly, savoring the word.
The shop lights flickered, mocking you, then went dark.
The next run began cleaner, sharper.
You pushed out of the starting room with your shoulders squared, jaw set. The echoes of the last death clung to you like static, but this time, you weren't letting yourself slip. No wandering thoughts. No stupid distractions.
Room after room, you moved with precision. Your steps were measured, weapons ready, eyes darting over every corner. Entities barely slowed you. You cleared puzzles in record time without backtracking. Your breathing was steady, calm, and collected.
It was almost perfect.
Redemption.
By the time you were crawling through the vent into the shop, you were buzzing with relief. Your pulse slowed and your grip loosened. Seeing Sebastian, lounging in his little room as though the world didn't exist outside his shop, it almost made you smile.
Then you saw it.
On the stand behind him, propped neatly as though it were a priceless artifact: the wand.
Your heart plummeted.
Of course it had come back here. Of course it hadn't vanished into nothingness like other anomalies sometimes did. Of course! No, it was here, gleaming faintly, mocking you with its soft little hum.
Sebastian followed your gaze and smirked. "Ah. I see you've noticed the new addition to my collection."
You swallowed, throat dry. "...Why do you have that?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He leaned back, gesturing to it like a curator unveiling his finest work. "Recovered artifacts always return here, eventually. This one was practically eager." His voice lowered, sly. "I imagine you know why that is."
Heat flared in your cheeks. "Y-you don't-"
"Oh, but I do!" He plucked the wand from the shelf, holding it delicately between his claws like a poisonous plant. "Its properties are fascinating. A semi-sentient anomaly, designed to pacify the monsters of the Hadal Blacksite nonviolently. It seems to respond to stress responses, such as laughter and panic, but especially resistance. Multiplying phantom stimuli until the subject is overwhelmed. Quite ingenious, really. I call it a Pacification Tool, a tickling generator."
The word landed like a slap to the face. Tickling.
Your stomach twisted. Sebastian had said it so casually! As if he were discussing a lock-picking set or a keycard.
Sebastian tilted his head, studying you. His grin sharpened. "Curious. Some runners can endure it with minimal trouble. Others, however..." His bright blue eyes flicked deliberately toward you. "...cannot handle its effects in the slightest."
You prayed that the floor would eat you alive.
"You d-don't-" you stammered, defensive, your voice pitching higher. "You don't know that's what happened."
"Don't I?" He leaned forward, wand resting lazily against his palm. "One moment, you're alive, you find this item, and bring it into the saferoom. Twenty minutes later, you stumble out of the saferoom dazed, breathless, and die to the Searchlights like a novice. And now, you can't even look at this wand without blushing. Tell me again how I'm incorrect?"
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "If you say one more word, I swear-"
"Swear what?" His smile widened, all teeth.
"T-The very next flash beacon I find-"
His face twitched. He tapped the wand against the counter, slow, taunting. "Fine, then. For a demonstration-"
You froze. "W-wait. Don't even think about it-!"
Too late.
He flicked his wrist.
The wand burst to life brighter than before. It recognized you, and it remembered every spot on your body. Phantom hands exploded around you, not just the fingers this time, but brushes, combs, little pokers of air scratching across every vulnerable inch. Your underarms were attacked at once, bristles dragging in dizzying circles. Your ribs jolted as invisible comb teeth jabbed rhythmically. Your feet lit up with flickering pokes, heels to toes, while brushes swept cruelly over your arches.
You shrieked, stumbling backward. "SebAHAHAHHSTIAHAHAN!! HAHAHAHAHAH NONONOOAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Your body folded, laughter ripping out of you uncontrollably. It was sharper this time, more complex, as though the wand was proudly showing off all the new tricks it could do. You collapsed onto the floor, writhing, grabbing at empty air while phantom tools shredded every ounce of control you had left.
"HAHAHAHAH- P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAA-!! G-GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHREE!!!" Your words broke into squeals as something that felt like a feather duster fluttered against your neck.
"Interesting. It really, really likes you." Sebastian's laugh cut through, rich and amused. "It's incredible. I can practically feel how happy the wand is, getting to tickle you again. You must be more sensitive than I thought. Just look at you."
You kicked helplessly, tears streaming down your face, throat aching with laughter. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All you could see was the shopkeeper's silhouette above you, perfectly composed, amused like this was the best entertainment he'd had in months. To be honest, it probably was.
"Oh, I don't think you are." He twirled the wand in his fingers, and the phantom brushes redoubled on your stomach, circling your belly button mercilessly. "For that, you'd have to stand up first."
You convulsed, shrieking, laughter pouring out until your voice cracked.
Finally, finally, the pressure eased. The phantoms vanished, leaving you in a crumpled heap on the shop floor, wheezing and giggling uncontrollably. Your body tingled, trembling with aftershocks.
Sebastian slid the wand back onto the shelf as casually as one might set down a quill. "Effective, isn't it?"
You lay there, sprawled, sweat-drenched, cheeks blazing red. You wanted to be furious, to scream at the fish who had just tormented you. Instead, another laugh sputtered out of you, breathless and broken. "Ihihihi... hahahate youhuhu," you gasped between giggles.
He leaned down low, grin wicked. "You'll thank me later. Now, are you gonna buy anything?" He gestured toward his tail, full of items you'd need for the run.
You glared up at him, still too weak to stand. Then, you turned your gaze to the wand.
Sensing what you were about to demand, he cut you off before you could start. "It's not for sale. Consider it insurance."
You pointed a shaky finger up at him. "Y-youhuhu... are soho dead. Nehext run, Ihihi'm getting you bahack. Mahark myhy words."
Sebastian chuckled, straightening, utterly unbothered. "Uh-huh, right, looking forward to it."
🌈 helloooo it's time for asks- do u have any hcs about pjo? particularly the camp halfblood trio or nico/will :3
Let's gooo! Heyaaa Ollie! :D
Okay, so, I think that Will keep looking for excuses to trap Nico in the medical bay (Infirmary? I can't remember how its called JHGFDHGTR) longer than he needs under his caring care <3 all while Nico continues to make a run for it. At this point it became like a game between them. Will will (ha-) ignore the healing effects that ambrosia has on halfbloods and Nico simply continues to sneak around, pulling excuses or literally just running for it until they get caught in a game of chase. From there is a free game and each move gets sillier than the other
It got to the point that Nico will at some point conjure skeletons and turn the chase around with Solace running for his life because the moment those skeletons get him in a good boney grip he will have to survive Nico's taunts and smug smirk as his playful fingers dancing on his entire torso, hungry for the weak spots that will pry those lovely snorts and crackling laughter. All while Nico will try to convince Will to free him from The Place I Do Not Remember and Will will (ha :D) keeps pulling the card of "Who is the doctor here" until he either descends in even more laughter (Nico found that horrible, awful, ticklish space between his shoulderblades again-) or receives a kiss. It's a win win for both of them in either case.
Anyway, his revenge is always sweet and soft and unberable and it always comes disguised as a check up that Nico simply can't run from. I am just saying, there is a LOT of opportunities to slowly and "accidentaly" keep sneaking tickles and scribbles during those and Will know this and Nico knows that Will knows this he is just sitting there trying to keep his nonchalant, even grump face (unsuccessfully, ofc, his smiles are much easier next to him) while Will keeps poking and wiggling those attacking fingers with no hurry or whatsover, just with a smirk on his lips and a calm pace of someone who has all the time of the world to hear the cutest giggles in this earth.
