just a little soft.
my hero academia | platonic bakusquad | words: 3,109.
Katsuki Bakugou is talented at just about anything he sets himself up to do. The people around him wonder if he’s just that freakishly amazing, or if he’s simply methodical about the activities he decides to pick up, to the point where he only chooses to engage in things that he knows he’d be great at. It’s a line that nobody can guarantee that Bakugou is or isn’t crossing, but one thing’s for certain: it’s so damn annoying.
So when Bakugou and his squad managed to get ahold of some nerd guns and decided to hold a nerf gun fight in the common room ( furniture was moved , both for protection of them and of it ) for their Saturday game night, nobody, absolutely no one was surprised that Bakugou was in the lead with points. Since these were foam bullets and would have to be used extremely hard and aggressively to inflict any pain, nobody donned armor and every available inch of flesh was an open target. If you were shot on any non vital areas twice, then you were out; on the flip side, if you got hit on the chest, the groin, the neck, or anywhere on your face just once, you were automatically dead and out of the game.
It’s been about thirty minutes into the game’s commencement, and everyone was doing their best to avoid being shot by the bullets from their friends. Some utilized their agility and skills in speed to evade the shots, while others relied on the furniture around them as shields. Even Bakugou, overconfident in everything he does, is taking the necessary precautions to sidestep bullets slung his way, having pinpointed that Kaminari was specifically targeting him. The realization blooms a smirk across his lips, his gun rising swiftly to launch two of the soft projectiles at his aforementioned classmate.
“Crap!” He yelps, just barely escaping from the attack by leaping behind one of the couches.
Bakugou tsks, ducking to the floor to grab more ammo before Kaminari can take advantage of the opening he’s accidentally produced for him.
“Ah ha! Gotcha now, Kacchan!” Kaminari cries, pointing the barrel of his gun right at Bakugou’s head.
Bakugou has every intention to move out of the way before those bullets can reach him, but the way Kaminari suddenly releases a small shriek and clasps the side of his neck halts any motion. Both blonds shift their sights to see Ashido, posing with her weapon and pretending to blow smoke from the hole of it. Amusement litters Bakugou’s expression, but Kaminari doesn’t share in his friend’s subtle delight.
“Mina, what the heck?! I was about to cap the most powerful player!”
She shrugs, shaking those fluffy pink tresses of hers. “I saw an opening and I took it, sorry not sorry Kami. We’re not playing as teams ya’ know; every person for themself!”
Kaminari huffed at her words, golden eyes rolling as he set his gun on the table in front of him, hands up, and migrated over to the other side of the room where he wasn’t still in the line of fire. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m rooting for you to lose.” His pettiness knows no bounds as he plops into a loveseat, squinting at his so-called friend.
Ashido’s own eyes roll in return and just as she circulates on a heel to continue the game, a squeak breaks free from her when she feels two tiny smacks against her knees. Shock etches itself into her features, staring hard at Bakugou who ascends from his position on the floor, wolfish smirk stretching his lips.
“You both talk too damn much; you distracted yourself.” He chides, already scanning the area for the remaining two soldiers still at large.
Ashido whines, rubbing at the spots where her poor knees were assaulted. “So not cool Bakugou! I saved your butt from Kami!”
“Yeah, that was your first mistake.” Honed instincts bring his body into a squat, narrowly missing another foam bullet. Kirishima had been the culprit this time and on the realization that Bakugou escaped his attack, a nervous grin grew on the redhead’s lips.
“Uh oh⎯⎯”
“Damn right uh oh , shitty hair!” As if all in the same moment , Bakugou swooped up a spare bullet, loaded it in, and shot his best friend twice; one in the stomach and one on the thigh.
“Aww, man!” Kirishima groans, but his grin never leaves his face, even as he surrenders his gun to the same place Kaminari had set his own down, joining the blond in taking a seat across the room to watch the finale of this little game play out. It was just Sero and Bakugou now, and the audience of three were on the edge of their seats. Bakugou probably didn’t know this, but Sero was an older brother of three back home, and they had playful fights like these on the constant. It’s safe to say that the tape hero is a pro at this sort of activity and with Bakugou being an only child, has a glaring disadvantage, even if he is the current reigning champion.
The air is quiet. The tension is high, as cardinal eyes scan the area for all objects that Sero could be hiding behind. Either of the other couches, the second loveseat, the counters ⎯⎯ damn, this kid was being quiet as hell! Bakugou couldn’t even detect any breathing, let alone noise of motion. A low growl rumbles from within his chest, taking a few steps towards the empty couches.
“Come out already, Tape face! Show up like a man! You know as soon as you do, I’m gonna kill you!” Even for something as silly as a nerf gun battle, Bakugou manages to take it all way too seriously. Kirishima nudges Kaminari with a hidden snicker and points towards the ceiling with a subtle finger. When Kaminari glances in the direction he’s told, he ( unfortunately for Sero ) lets loose a pleased gasp loud enough to draw Bakugou’s attention. Sight migrates from the two on the couch, to the ceiling where Kirishima had been pointing, and was faced with none other than the student he was searching for , hanging upside down by a length of tape.
“Aw, Denki , come ON, man⎯!” Sero grouses as his ambush is rendered totally useless. He shoots on instinct once Bakugou raises his own gun, and manages to smack Bakugou’s arm with a pellet, but he isn’t quick enough to launch the second before a shot of Bakugou’s reaches him and impact is made with his forehead, sealing an automatic win for the blond.
Bakugou’s lips curl into a smirk, wide and toothy, as he throws the gun to the ground and turns to fully face Kirishima and Kaminari, smug as ever. “You all really thought you could beat me. Ha!”
Kaminari huffs, crossing his arms over the width of his chest and rolling his eyes at Bakugou’s normal display of arrogance. “I would’ve had a shot if MINA didn’t knock me out so early.”
Ashido shoves her tongue out at him in response, before a grin replaces her scowl. “All’s fair in love and nerf gun war. Besides, I got killed right after you did, so it’s not like I got to play much either!”
“Y’know, I noticed something..” Sero begins, leveling himself closer to the floor before disengaging from his tape. “Bakugou shot almost everyone in non-vital spots, even with the handicap of having to shoot the other players twice to get them out.”
A silence draws them all in as they recall the events that have just occurred, and after acknowledging that Sero was indeed correct, all eyes now lay on the winner of their game. Abruptly, Bakugou feels like he’s shrunk a little. What the hell did it matter that he didn’t go for vital areas?
“And? So fucking what? I just managed to prove that I don’t need to take the easy route to win, that’s all.” But there’s a new sensation in the air around the five of them, something that has Bakugou a smidge nervous, and it’s starting to activate his fight or flight.
“I dunno..” Kirishima chimes in, a little too sing-song in the tonality of his words. “It seemed like you didn’t want to hit us in our vital spots. We all know this is a game and these aren’t anything close to real bullets, but you still took at least a little bit of time to hit us in places we didn’t mark as insta-deaths.”
The hair on the nape of Bakugou’s neck begins to stand on edge. What the hell is going on here? He growls again, louder this time, as if that would pose any threat to the individuals who know him the best in the entire school. “Shut the hell up Kirishima, whatever you idiots are thinking isn’t true. The game is over now anyway, so can we fuckin’ drop it?”
“But are you suuuure?” Great, now Ashido’s involving herself too. “‘Cause, to this idiot , it seems like you’re a big ol’ softie , Bakugou!”
Her claim brings an unwelcome, faint flush of crimson to his cheeks. Disdain and embarrassment mix and etch into the contours of his expression, pearly whites gritting against each other as he snarls out, “ Get . Bent . Pinky . I just MURDERED YOU ALL IN COLD BLOOD, how the FUCK is that me being soft?!”
“That probably isn’t something a hero-in-training should be shouting at the top of his lungs,” Kaminari finally steps in with something to say, his own smirk blooming along his lips. “We all know the truth, Kacchan. You’re sweet on us! That’s why you actually thought about where and how you were going to attack us.”
With each teasing statement from the squad, Bakugou’s blush darkens in hue and his chagrin intensifies to the point where crackles and little sizzling can be heard from the center of his palms. “You’re all fuckin’ delusional! I don’t know WHY I even hang around you losers⎯⎯!”
He spins on his heels, turning his back on the four of them with the intention to leave them to their devices, until he feels a hand grab at his wrist and tug him right back. “Hold on a sec there, Bakubro!”
“Wh⎯ Let me go, moron!” He struggles against Kirishima’s grip, noting that the redhead’s hardened his hand just enough to avoid hurting Bakugou, but enough that he can’t just break free.
“Not until you admit you’re a total softie!” He grins, all large and wide and warm, it makes Bakugou’s heart speed a little at the sight, but he’ll be damned if he gives in that easily.
“Drop dead! I’ve got other shit to do, so fuck off!” Another few tugs solidify that he isn’t going anywhere, at least not until he works up to blasting Kirishima’s damn hand off.
“C’mon man, don’t be like that! We just wanna hear you say it!” Kaminari slides off of the couch, taking stride to where Kirishima has Bakugou captured and delivering a few pokes to his fellow blond’s side. “All you gotta do is say I’m totally soft for my friends and you can go off and do your other important stuff.”
Damnmit. Damn Kirishima and damn Kaminari! Those little pokes jolt the skin where they touch down and Bakugou can’t control the way he slightly jerks away from the other student. The movement goes noticed, however, much to Bakugou’s dismay. Their grins turn from mellow and amused, to curious and devious, and Bakugou knows he’s about to regret even agreeing to that stupid game.
“I ⎯ I sahaid fuhuhuck ohohoff!” He chokes out on a giggle that he attempted to strangle down within his throat, but once Kaminari saw his initial reaction to his poking, the asshole just continued doing it.
“What’sa matter, Bakugou? Little bit ticklish?”
“Shuhu⎯! Shuhut uhuhup!”
He bounces when Kaminari’s pokes evolve into light scribbles against his stomach, and tries to tug himself away from Kirishima’s grip even harder, but to no avail. To make matters worse, the spiky haired bastard is using his free hand to mimic Kaminari’s light tickling against his other side.
“NohOHO⎯⎯shit! ShihiHIHIt, gehet awahahAY!” His giggles are flowing more freely every second that the two of them keep up their ticklish assault. The daintiness of the touch is already driving Bakugou up a wall, every light scrape and squiggle of those fingers brings itchy little sensations under the skin that he just couldn’t escape from. His squirming’s amplified as well, to the point where his knees buckle and Kirishima has to exert more strength in order to keep him upright.
“Whoa there, Bakubro. So ticklish you can barely stand, huh? Heheh, let’s move you to the couch so you don’t fall.” Kirishima teases with a giggle of his own, halting his tickling for just long enough to lead Bakugou to sit against the cushions, but he grants him no warning when he dives back in, squeezing up and down his sides. Kaminari had followed and went right back to it the moment Bakugou was settled on the couch. Without an opportunity to catch his breath, laughter shot out of Bakugou’s grinning mouth once again, the back of his free hand concealing part of his merriment and muffling the sound.
“Aw, isn’t he so cute? Thinking that we were just gonna let him walk like that. ~” Ashido’s voice is sweet as a confection, striking a chord of renewed embarrassment within Bakugou that has him attempting to curl up and suppress himself further. Ashido’s having absolutely none of that though, and takes it upon herself to shove her hands to where his waist would bend, squeezing at the back area of it. She’s rewarded with a squeak from the volatile blond, his hand promptly departing from disguising his visage to weakly shove at her hands.
“DohOHOHON’t⎯⎯! StAHAH⎯ahahp!” Suffering through tickling from Kaminari, Kirishima, AND Ashido is a certain kind of torture that Bakugou wasn’t at all prepared for. He’s endured through his fair share of tickle fights with one or two of them prior, but three on one is maddening . As if his boisterous cackling and wriggling like an unearthed worm wasn’t enough for them, Sero’s now positioned himself by Bakugou’s legs with an evil glint sparkling in his dark eyes.
“Don’t stop, huh? Don’t you worry Blasty, I don’t think we had those intentions right now!” Is the last thing he says before slender digits curl around the tops of Bakugou’s thighs, squeezing and scribbling over the skin there. Ashido continues her work on his hips, Kaminari at his stomach and Kirishima dares to scooch his ministrations up to his ribs, just shy of where his death spot was, but the visceral reaction that Bakugou gives proves that Kirishima didn’t need to travel there yet.
Bakugou squeals, louder than he probably ever has before, no longer capable of internalizing how sensitive he is to everything they’re doing. His squirming evolves into thrashing and damnmit , he feels the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. Every touch courses along his skin like an electric current, fed into by the hypersensitivity that he couldn’t shake off even if he tried. His cheeks grew even rosier, warmth radiating off of his face like a small space heater.
“ Damn , Bakugou,” Sero’s more than charmed by Bakugou’s display of hilarity, his grin tells that much. “Who knew you were this ticklish? It’s pretty funny! Tough guy like you, fallin’ to pieces ‘cause of a little tickling .”
“Pfft, I’d say this is a bit more than a little, dude.” Kirishima snorts, observing Bakugou closely as he laughs his literal heart out to make certain that he isn’t on the verge of passing out. When he’s deemed fine enough, Kirishima does, finally, move into that cursed little area where he knows Bakugou can’t handle.
And right he is.
As soon as those nimble, horrible fingers make tickly contact with that death spot, Bakugou arches forward so hard, he nearly knocks both Kirishima and Kamnari to the floor. Spiky, blond tresses fall against the couch as he throws his head back, screaming laughter flooding within the space of the common room. He has no strength to camouflage his glee now; eyes scrunched close, the bridge of his nose wrinkled and his mouth splitting his face in a wide open, delighted grin that spreads a feeling of pride and joy into each of his friends’ hearts. Damn. He really needs to laugh like this more often.
“OHOHKAY⎯⎯! fUHck⎯! fUHUHUCK, STOP ! STO⎯AHAHAP! I⎯I’M SOHOHOFT, AHAHALRIGHT?!” The surrender arrives strangled and choked around his laughter, but they all heard him clear enough to finally, finally , cease their ticklish assault on him. With fingers and hands removed from his frame, Bakugou’s body instinctively curls up and against the couch, protecting his long abused sensitive areas from any further touching.
He takes in deep gulps, releasing stray, lingering giggles with each breath. His eyes are still closed and he’s still trembling just a small bit, and even though he isn’t giving any of them the time of day right now while he recovers, he can admit only to himself that that was… so much fun. A variety of fun that he hasn’t experienced in years and didn’t ever believe he’d have the chance to indulge in again.
“See? Not so hard, right buddy?” Kaminari pats at Bakugou’s shoulder, who flinches just slightly at the contact ( in case he got any funny ideas about tickling him again ) and shoots him a glare that doesn’t retain any of its usual bite to it. How could he possibly be threatening, when he’s all relaxed and pliant, still coiled up and gently giggling into the pillows of the couch? Honestly, he couldn’t get any cuter than this.
“Fuck you guys..” Bakugou sighs out, obviously growing tired by the way his words break off at the end and his eyes go half-lidded.
“Yeah, yeah. You love us.” Kirishima rises to reach for the remote to the television, turning it on and settling for an easygoing comedy movie that they’ve all seen before.
“I’ll get snacks!” Kaminari exclaims, trekking to the kitchen to find something delicious, with Sero trailing behind him, mentioning something about how Kaminari never grabs the chips that he likes.
Despite teetering on the edge of half asleep and awake, chilling between Kirishima and Ashido, Bakugou floats on the pleasant, tender feeling of having friends like his. Maybe he has grown just a little soft for these idiots, and maybe, just maybe , he’s starting to see there’s nothing wrong with that.
