Summary: Aizawa and Hizashi were in bed from just waking up and Hizashi was getting an attitude from the sleepy grump. So he decided to teach him a lesson~.
It was around 6:30am and Hizashi had woken up from the sound of his alarm. He turned the alarm off and turned to see Shōta still asleep.
He shook his husband's shoulder gently, enough to wake him up while not hurting him. Aizawa woke up and groaned, not sitting up or bothering to try and wake up. "Go away.." Shōta said, covering himself in the duvet.
Hizashi raised an eyebrow at him, "But you need to get up, Shō.." he replied, a little concerned. "I don't care..I'm tired..." Shōta exclaimed, a little annoyed that he had to get up.
Hizashi went from being concerned to Annoyed because of Shōta's attitude. "What's with the attitude, babe?"
Aizawa responded with a groan and ignored Hizashi's question. The blonde didn't like this one bit and pulled the duvet off of Aizawa. "Get up or you're getting it." He said, threatening the raven haired man.
"no.."
"why?"
"because I'm tired!"
-sigh- "fine have it your way."
Hizashi grabbed Aizawa's wrists and pinned them above his head. He used his free hand to slowly spider up his side, making Aizawa struggle to resist the ticklish sensations. "F**k off!" Aizawa said as he struggled under Hizashi's touch.
Hizashi sped up the tickling, knowing that Aizawa would give in eventually and apologise.
As soon as Aizawa felt this, he tugged at his wrists. "Haha! Wahait Hizashi noho!" The raven haired man giggled and twisted around.
"you gonna apologise? And maybe get up? Oh no let me rephrase that, You WILL get up." He said as he started squeezing his thighs, knowing it was his death spot.
"HIZASHI NOHOHO! I BEHEHEHEG! STOHOHOHOP I'M SOHOHORRY!" He replied quickly. Hizashi then stopped and waited for him to get up as he let go of his wrists.
Aizawa sat up and yawned, "Thanks, 'Zashi..I..I needed that.."
Later on, they got ready for work and headed out to U.A and Aizawa knew what would happen if he acted like he did again so decided not to.
Summary: Aizawa and Yamada invite Toshinori to dinner. They want to tickle him. Him, Toshinori.
Toshinori is excited, but nervous. What if he's not ticklish?
Words: 4,444
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Toshinori sat huddled at his desk in the teachers’ lounge, shoulders tucked up to his ears, a bright red—he was sure—bloomed across his cheeks. He still couldn't quite believe what they—Aizawa and Yamada—had told him over dinner the night before.
He laughed—startled from his lips before he could stop himself. But they didn't join in. They had just watched him—so serious, gentle smiles playing on their lips.
He cleared his throat, waved his hands in front of himself, as if trying to clear away his initial reaction. He didn't want to embarrass them. Didn't want to ruin the friendship they had been building. "I'm sorry. Um... c-could you say that again, please?"
Aizawa rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile still graced his lips. "I said," he started, pulling Yamada closer to his side, his fingers lazily twirling a blond lock of hair. He seemed so relaxed. “We like you. We like your laugh. We would like—"
“Yagi-san, we wanna tickle you!" Yamada had cut in, wincing as he seemed to remember they were currently in a very public restaurant. Aizawa had snapped to glare at Yamada, his hair fluttering as he flashed his quirk.
Toshinori had flushed fully red, a nervous grin pulling at his lips. "That's what I thought I heard..." A flutter had started in his chest. Sure, it was a bit... unusual, but Yamada had specifically said Yagi. But..." A-And you mean..." he trailed off, gesturing at himself from shoulder to waist, “not...” he trailed off, but the meaning wasn't lost.
“Yes, you,” Aizawa had assured, his voice level—earnest.
He'd said he needed to think about it. And the two men had agreed, Yamada even going so far as to say how weird of an admittance it had been. Toshinori had assured him it wasn't—because it definitely wasn't the weirdest proposition he'd been extended, though they were always for All Might, never Toshinori.
It had quickly become the only thing he could think about that night. Excitement bubbled up inside him—but was he excited about that, or was it because this form was wanted—desired?
But then… he thought about how it could go wrong. What if he wasn't ticklish? That seemed to be rather important. What if his laugh was different? What if they didn't like it?
He was lost in thought, staring at his computer screen when a hand clapped him on the shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Good morning, Yagi-san!” Mic greeted with one of his energetic smiles.
Toshinori took a moment for his nerves to settle, letting a genuine, gentle smile slide into place as he turned to face the younger hero. “Good morning, Yamada-kun! How are you, this morning?”
“Fine, fine. This morning's gig ran a bit long, but it happens. What about you?” he asked, raising a brow, concern pinching his features as his hand quickly slid from Toshinori’s shoulder.
Oh. They were still hiked to his ears. Oh crap, was he still blushing? He forced his shoulders into a more relaxed position, willing the red from his cheeks. He opened his mouth to reply that he was fine, but before he could utter a sound, the door was sliding open and closed with a snap.
“There you are, Shou!”
“I thought we agreed to give Yagi-san space, ‘Zashi,” Aizawa drawled, leaning against the doorjamb, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jumpsuit.
“I just greeted him…” Yamada said quietly—-was he pouting?
Cute. Yagi coughed, shaking the thought away. Glancing around the room, he saw the room was otherwise empty. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, flicking his gaze between the two. “So, I thought about it… I-If you still want to—uh, I mean—it could be fun, maybe. Uh—” he paused, finding a spot on the wall between the two, his index fingers tapping together as a wave of anxiety swelled in his chest, “I'm just not sure I'm actually—uh—”
“Ticklish?” Aizawa offered in his lazy way.
Toshinori’s gaze snapped to him, widening slightly at the gentle upturn of the man's lips. He nodded, unable to fight the blush that flared across his cheeks. He saw Aizawa's eyes widen in response before he dipped his face into the coils of his capture weapon. Why were they both so cute?!
‘Well, we can find out together!” Yamada chirped, clapping his hands excitedly. “Tonight? Or is that too soon? Your call, big guy!”
His heart thumped in his chest. This was really happening. Swallowing, he said, “Tonight's good… what time?”
“Seven?” They offered in unison.
“Seven is good! Uh—Should I come over, or?” Thump—thump, thump—thump.
“I think one first is enough for one day,” Aizawa said, moving over to his own desk and leaning back against it, bracing himself on the edge with the heels of his palms. “You’d probably feel more comfortable unwinding, after, in your own space. And then we can leave after.” He gave a short nod, turned and gathered a few files from his desk and headed for the door once more. “You should wear something that fits, but is loose. And drink some water.”
“Aw, Shou, you big softie!” Yamada teased, hastily gathering his own things from his desk before joining Aizawa at the door.
Shouta glared at him and shoved his shoulder.
Toshinori couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped him. Aizawa’s glare found him instead, but there was no heat behind it. Toshinori just grinned, his cheeks pinking slightly.
When they were gone, he opened up the group chat that had appeared yesterday when they had invited him to dinner and fired off his address with shaky fingers and held breath.
Was he really going to do this?
The rest of the school day passed by in a blur, and soon Toshinori found himself on the train home to his apartment. It was almost five, and he had work to do. He burst through his front door at twenty after; dropping his bag by the door, slipping out of his loafers and into his house slippers. He shuffled into the kitchen and quickly cleaned up the mess from breakfast. He draped his rumpled throw blanket over the arm of his chair and then looked over the space. There were a few books scattered around but that was fine, right?
The clock on the wall read five-forty-five. Crap! Realizing they never stated where… things would be taking place, he bounded into his bedroom, nervously straightening his sheets and fluffed his pillows. He picked up random discarded clothing and stuffed them into his hamper.
His heart was racing, his nerves were jumbled again. After he spent all day trying to calm them down. He breathed through his nose. He wanted this—wanted to try. He took a couple deep breaths, he checked his bathroom, and the guest bathroom, relieved to find them clean but he gave the counters a quick wipe down out of nerves.
An alarm rang out at six. He darted back to his room and rummaged, as neatly as he could, through his dresser. At the back, he found a better fitted blue t-shirt and a pair of grey cotton shorts. That would be fine, right? He grabbed a pair of underwear and socks from his top drawer and set his clothes in a neat pile on his bed before he disappeared into his bathroom, his heart hammering away.
Twenty-five minutes later, he emerged in a cloud of steam, towel low on his bony hips, hair damp and a wavy mess. He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, slipping on his underwear. He felt like he was forgetting something… but what? He stared blankly at the wall in front of him for a moment. Water!
He sprang up and hurried to his kitchen, throwing open the fridge. He snatched a bottle of water, cracking it open and practically chugging half of it before he could stop himself. He didn’t want to make himself sick.
He strode back into his room, dressing in his t-shirt and shorts, slipping his socks on. He grabbed his towel and draped it over his shoulders, fluffing and drying his hair as he sipped his water, giving his apartment a once over. Almost as an afterthought, he placed two pairs of smaller guest slippers at the step leading into the genkan. Giving a small nod of satisfaction to no one but himself, he slumps onto his sofa.
Ten minutes… they’d be here in ten minutes, and then… he shivered, a nervous grin slipping into place. He closed his eyes, trying to reign in his nerves… and then…
The doorbell rang.
Toshinori’s eyes flew open, zeroing in on the clock. Seven sharp. Of course. One of the men on the other side of the door was Aizawa, after all. Heaving himself off the couch, he padded over to the door, fixing his wild hair as best he could in the mirror before he pulled the front door open.
He was greeted by two very different personalities. Yamada was practically vibrating, a huge grin cracking his face. His hair was down—or at least, not in its trademark up-do—the sides pulled back as the rest pooled over his shoulders and down his back. His yellow glasses were gone, leaving his bright green eyes on full display. His eyes slid over to Aizawa, who looked much the same as he always did, though his hair was pulled into a low bun at the nape of his neck—the V-neck of his long-sleeve t-shirt left his neck and collarbones exposed, with the absence of his capture weapon—a sight he never thought he’d see. He met the man’s eyes, there was a hint of excitement behind them, and his cheeks were a very faint pink.
“Hi,” he said, his nerves spiking suddenly as he tried to bite back another nervous grin. “Ah, come in!” He stepped aside, waving them in.
“Hi!” came Yamada’s excited reply, very different from Aizawa’s murmured ‘Hey,”—but he sounded anything but bored, Toshinori was pleased to hear. It calmed his nerves a little.
The two stepped inside, slipping their shoes off and into the waiting slippers. Yamada let out a low whistle as he stepped further into the apartment. “Nice digs, my man!”
Toshinori let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly, “Thank you.”
His gaze flicked back to Aizawa, just in time to see Aizawa giving him a slow once over before their eyes met. Oh, he was full on blushing now. Was—was Aizawa smirking? “Nice to see you own clothes that fit you properly,” he said and then followed Yamada deeper into the apartment.
He swallowed, squared his shoulders, closed the door and followed after them. He found them sitting on either side of his couch, which he thought was an odd thing for a couple to do. But then Yamada smiled at him, broad and inviting and patted the space between them. Oh, he’s supposed to be between them. He swallowed, a shiver running up his spine as he shuffled toward the couch, his gaze flicking between them.
Yamada was still vibrating with excitement—as if he knew something Toshinori didn’t. Aizawa, in contrast, looked very relaxed, leaned back against the cushions, sprawled just a bit, looking as comfortable as he could possibly be—his eyes sharp and calculating as they lifted to meet Toshinori’s own nervous ones. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to curl into himself, his lips twitching nervously. But he exhaled through his nose and settled between them.
“There you are,” Yamada said, his smile gentler, but no less bright, as he reached up and brushed a stray hair behind Toshinori’s ear.
And then he felt the same thing on his other side, his eyes snapping to Aizawa as a chill ran up his spine. Oh, no, he can’t watch them both. Is this—was he—?
“We thought we’d ease you into it. Take our time. And remember, you can call it quits at any time,” Aizawa said in that soft, reassuring voice of his. But his finger was still teasing the shell of his ear.
Toshinori shook his head slightly, goosebumps trailing down his ear. “Ah—I mean, I un-understand!”
“Good!” Yamada hummed, his fingers languidly teasing just behind his ear as Aizawa’s fingers continued their slow tracing of his other ear.
A shaky grin was beginning to part his lips, his shoulders shrugging slightly, another chill threatening his spine. This had to mean—no, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.
“Yagi-san, could yo-o-o-ou do a favor for us…?” Yamada asked in a sing-song voice, his eyes flashing with—something—so briefly, Toshinori thought he might have imagined it.
“Wh-What is it…?” he asked, as both of them trailed a nail simultaneously along the inner cartilage of his ears. He couldn’t help it, he shrugged sharply, his head shaking slightly as a—he was sure—goofy grin took over his face as a squeal slipped from his lips.
His eyes flew open, but the teasing touches didn’t stop, and as he shifted his gaze from Yamada to Aizawa, he could see gentle grins pulling at their lips. He swallowed, his cheeks burning.
“Just the simplest task… could you, possibly, rest your arms along the back of the couch?” Yamada asked, so innocently, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Here, we’ll make it easier for you,” Aizawa murmured, his ministrations stopping, but instead of pulling away like Toshinori assumed he would at that point, his fingers were gently carding through the hair at the back of his head.
A moment later, he felt Yamada’s fingers change course, and then, two hands were gently working through his hair. He couldn’t help it, his eyes slipped closed and he leaned into it. Biting his lip—and blushing for the seven hundredth time that day—he did as asked, slipping his arms back along the top of the sofa.
“Good boy,” Aizawa murmured, the hand in Toshinori’s hair slipping down to tease along the long plane of his neck.
And it tickled, at least Toshinori thought it did, since he immediately shrugged his shoulder up protectively, and giggles did escape—but it was shrill and awkward—not at all what he thought his laugh usually sounded like. It felt like his heart was dropping to the floor and soaring at the same time. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about Aizawa calling him a ‘good boy’ but he felt like he liked it.
Glancing in his direction, Aizawa had stopped all movement, his own cheeks burning, his mouth parted in shock. Toshinori’s heart was plummeting again.
“Did—Did you just call The Symbol of Peace a ‘good boy’?” Toshinori flicked his gaze to Yamada, surprised and put a bit at ease to see that he appeared to just be amused. Then he looked back to Aizawa, it felt like he was holding his breath as he waited for the man to speak.
Aizawa’s mouth snapped closed, and he cleared throat, “No. I called Toshinori a ‘good boy’.” He shifted his gaze to Toshinori, who couldn’t help but blush brighter as Aizawa momentarily bit his lip. “I apologize. That wasn’t previously discus—”
“No, it—I mean, I… liked it…” he finished quietly, his gaze shifting to the ceiling as his cheeks burned anew. He also liked the way his name sounded coming from him, but he dare not say that.
Aizawa huffed a laugh, ducking his head slightly, as if forgetting he did not, in fact, currently have his capture weapon. He looked back up a moment later, looking Toshinori right in the eye. “Do you… want to continue…?” he asked quietly, subtly biting the inside of his cheek.
Toshinori slowly stretched his arms along the back of the couch, shifting slightly in his seat. “I think I'd like to. Yes.”
Aizawa’s lips quirked upward slightly, and he shifted back slightly, away from Toshinori’s side, much to the man’s confusion. But a moment later, a throw pillow was being secured against his left side and then Aizawa was shifting back into place.
Toshinori blinked at it and then smiled gratefully at Aizawa.
“Alright! Ready to rock’n’roll, listeners?”
Toshinori smiled, he was having a lot of fun with these two, even if he didn’t quite feel like he could say for sure if he was ticklish. He was glad that they seemed to be having fun, so far. “Ready,” he said, gently gripping the top of the couch. He suddenly felt a lot more exposed than he did a few seconds ago…
Blunt nails found the sides of his long neck, slowly gliding up and down, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Snickers escaped here and there, his shoulders shrugging the best they could. And then fingers were also teasing along his waist, against bare skin, and looking down, he could see that his shirt had ridden up a little, exposing the very bottom of his belly button and everything between to the top of his shorts. The muscles of his stomach twitched helplessly, trying to avoid the relentless tracing of nails. His lips pulled into a grin, and he could feel laughter bubbling deep inside.
Yamada's fingers were quick and exploratory, wandering almost aimlessly from his right hip, up his right side. Occasionally his fingertips would press between the spaces of his ribs—sending Toshinori careening into the throw pillow pressed between him and Aizawa, a quick bark of laughter escaping. But he always pulled back after that, returning to the gentle teasing that had taken up so much of the evening.
Aizawa was much more… thorough, Toshinori thought. His movements were fluid, but light and slow enough to leave goosebumps wherever he ventured. He seemed to like his hip, and the panicked, rapid-fire giggles he could get to pour from Toshinori. But like Yamada, he was soon pulling away, gliding his nails back to his belly button, circling and teasing until Toshinori helplessly squealed, his abdomen sucking in uselessly.
Suddenly, the two sets of hands felt more in tune, nails dancing on both sides of his neck, sending chills down his spine in rampant waves. He shrugged and twisted, gripping the back of the couch even tighter.
“I think he's holding out on us—what do you think, Shou?” Yamada asked, pulling his features into a look of mock-disappointment. So gently—that Toshinori almost didn't notice—the man's free hand came to rest at his ribs.
“I-I'm nohohot! How c-cohohould I?!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. And I just called him a good boy, too…” Aizawa said, letting out a convincing dejected sigh.
But as Toshinori looked quickly between the two—a very prominent blush overtaking his entire face, from his roots all the way down his neck—he saw the beginnings of two very scary grins. For a moment, neither moved, but he could help but shiver.
He's pretty sure he whined—quite pitifully—but it didn't seem to matter. Soon, Yamada’s fingers were pressed between his ribs, vibrating in a way he hadn't felt before—just as Aizawa’s fingers kneaded into his hipbone. Stars erupted in his vision as he twisted helplessly toward Yamada while simultaneously wrenching his left hip as far off the sofa as he could get it. “AYAAHEHEHE!! SH-SHIHIHITT-AAHHEHEHE!” His breathing felt erratic, wrong. But he didn't want to stop. He was having so much fun right now.
But it didn't matter. It never did. He could feel the blood building in his throat. Soon, it would make itself known and everything would come to a screeching halt, like it always did. “ST-STAHAHAP!”
Immediately, the warmth and exuberance of their touch fell away, cold leeching in to take its place. A wet cough ripped itself from his chest, pitching him forward. The right side of the sofa sprung up. Yamada was leaving, put off by his pitiful existence.
Blindly he reached for the box of tissues he kept on his coffee table. He hadn't gotten very far but suddenly, a handful of tissues were pressed into his stretched-out palm—a hand gently rubbing circles into his back.
Aizawa. Toshinori didn't think he should have to see him like this, but he was unable to form the words to say so.
Pressing the tissues to his mouth, he coughed violently, tears pricking his eyes until they spilled over. He coughed a few more times, sucking in slow wheezing breaths as the right side of the sofa dipped. Was Yamada back? But why?
Slowly, he pulled the tissues from his mouth, hastily folding away the dark red that was soaking the tissue. He swiped his tongue along his teeth, his head hanging low. “I'm sorry.”
He didn't know what else to say.
“Here,” Yamada said quietly.
As Toshinori wiped the tears from his eyes, he saw the man was holding a bottle of cold water out for him, already opened. Oh. Is that why he left in a hurry? “Thanks,” Toshinori croaked, partly from the coughing fit, but there was something else there, too.
He sipped at the water, his gaze fixed on the floor, his eyes fluttering slightly as Aizawa continued to dub circles into his back, even though he probably didn't need to.
“Why are you sorry?” the man asked.
Glancing at him, Toshinori saw his eyebrows pinched in confusion.
He took another slow pull from the bottle, swishing it carefully before swallowing. “For having to stop. You both seemed like you were having fun.”
“We were,” Aizawa assured, leaning forward to make sure he had Toshinori's attention. He had stopped rubbing circles, but he left his hand there, as a reassuring pressure. “But more importantly, were you?”
“I really was,” Toshinori said quietly, his jaw working. He was so frustrated with himself.
Yamada gently leaned in, pressing their shoulders together. “Don't apologize for having to take care of yourself. We're all pro heroes. We get it. Do you know how many times we've had to postpone our plans because someone,”—he leaned in and whispered—“Shouta,”—before returning to a normal volume, “got injured on patrol before our pre-planned dates?” Yamada asked, sending a playful glare over Toshinori’s head toward Aizawa.
Toshinori couldn't help but laugh, even as Aizawa cut in, “The point is: we aren't deterred. I think—and I'm sure 'Zashi would agree—you were a lot of fun to play with, and we are looking forward to future… playdates…”
An alarm cut through the slowly easing tension. Toshinori made to get up, but a firm hand on each shoulder kept him firmly seated. “I'll get it, you relax.”
And then Aizawa disappeared toward the genkan, returning a moment later with a still blaring phone.
Toshinori turned off the alarm, his eyes widening at the time. “It's nine already?!” he exclaimed, startling another cough from his lungs.
“Yeah, you lasted quite a while,” Aizawa confirmed, a gentle smile on his lips. “Impressive for your first time. What's the alarm for?”
Toshinori blushed, his head dipping. He didn't actually think it was impressive, they seemed like they were going pretty easy on him. “My medication,” hands were pressing him into the sofa again—he sighed, gesturing toward his bedroom, “it's on my dresser.”
Aizawa nodded, and headed toward the bedroom. When he came back, he set the bag on the coffee table and then took his seat back on the sofa. They sat in a slightly heavy silence as Toshinori sorted through his pills, taking one at a time.
Eventually, he sat back, and was momentarily surprised when warm bodies pressed into him on either side. Fingers ran through the hair on the back of his head once more —and once more, he found himself leaning into the touch.
His eyes fluttered closed and he stretched. “Did you two really have fun with me? It seemed like you were being purposely gentle…”
Both men shifted to be slightly more head-on with Toshinori, their fingers still gently stroking through his hair. “Look at us,” Yamada said, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.
Toshinori opened his eyes, anxiety fluttering in his chest as he looked at the two, young, healthy men before him.
“We were being gentle. I said at the beginning, we were going to ease you into it. We would have done the same with anyone who didn't have any experience—especially if they didn't even know if they were ticklish or not,” Aizawa said, in that same reassuring tone he had used all evening, the same one he often heard directed at his students.
Toshinori couldn't help but squirm, but he kept his eyes up, flicking them to Yamada as he began to speak.
“I know it seems like a letdown, having to stop before you want to. But we do want to play with you again—you have a whole plethora of spots we have yet to explore—and we have a good feeling some will be even more fun than your current worst spots…” Yamada grinned, chill and easy.
Toshinori's mouth fell open, his eyes widening. Worse, than what he just went through? He swallowed, a sheepish grin sliding into place. "Y-You think so?"
Fingers had run through his hair the entire time. He was starting to feel a little floaty, even as he felt yet another blush overtaking his cheeks—he couldn’t even imagine how anything could be worse than the last thing they'd done.
He shivered.
“You look tired,” Yamada said, his fingers slowing.
Toshinori pouted, deeper when Aizawa’s began to as well.
“You should get some sleep, Yagi-san,” Aizawa said, low and gravelly.
“Toshinori…” he mumbled in response. Man, his eyes felt heavy. He forced them open.
“What?”
“Call me Toshinori. Like you did earlier…”
“So I did,” Aizawa chuckled. “You can call me Shouta, then—”
“And call me Hizashi!”
A big smile cracked his face in half. He felt so warm and happy.
The two made their way to the front of the apartment, and he could hear the shuffling of shoes as they changed into their own shoes.
“Now get some sleep. In your bed,” Shouta called back into the apartment, “like a good boy, Toshinori.”
Heat bloomed over his face, again, but his chest was a-flutter. He didn't know why he liked it when Shouta called him that, but he really did.
“Yes, Sir…” Toshinori replied, mostly in sarcasm—but if the cackle that Hizashi released was anything to go by as the front door opened and closed, Shouta didn’t catch on.
After a moment more of basking in the evening's activities, Toshinori heaved himself up, stumbling on tired legs to his bed, immediately crawling under the covers.
For once, he fell asleep almost immediately, a smile stretched across his face.
He hoped they'd invite him for a… playdate again, and soon…
A/N: @made-by-jade-222 , you're my favorite writer and I’m so glad you're back. You made your stories feel so special and made me feel happy. My favorite stories that you used to write was EraserMic family and I really loved those stories so I thought up this fic that reminded me of you. Maybe when you get around and get a chance to read this, I want to let you know that you feel special to me 💖
Summary: Eri wakes up from a nightmare and runs to her daddy and papa. Aizawa and Yamada did everything they could to comfort their baby except for one method. A method that will always gets her to smile and ready to go back to sleep again.
Lers: Yamada and Aizawa
Lee: Eri
Words: 960
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eri stirred in her sleep, her face contorted in fear. She murmured something unintelligible, and her body shook as if she was trying to escape something. It seemed that Eri was having a nightmare, her subconscious mind struggling with some unseen terror.
Suddenly, Eri awoke from her nightmare with a start. Tears began streaming down her face as she realized the dream's terror was not absolute. She felt overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry, her body shaking with each sob. She was filled with a sense of relief that it was only a dream, but the fear it had caused still lingered.
She quickly got off her bed and sprinted out of her room. She was eager to get to her dad and papa's room. Tears streamed down her face as she called out to her parents. “Daddy! Papa!” She shouted, her voice echoing down the hallway. She was eager to get to them, to be in their arms, and have them comfort her.
Eri burst into her parent's room and found Aizawa and Yamada sitting comfortably on the bed, seemingly minding their own business. Upon seeing Eri, they quickly dropped whatever they were doing and got worried, as she looked so scared.
“Eri, sweetheart, what happened?” Yamada asked. Eri began to cry again and ran up to their bed. She crashed into Aizawa’s arms and sobbed in his chest. He gently tried to comfort her, saying, “Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, Eri. It’s okay.” His words seemed to have a calming effect on her, but she was still shaken up.
Aizawa asked, "What happened, Eri?" Eri wiped her face and sniffled before responding. "I had a really bad dream. You and Papa were gone. I thought something happened to you, and I got scared," She said.
Yamada frowned as he gently rubbed Eri's back. His voice was full of love and compassion as he spoke. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, honey. We love you so much, Eri, and we will never leave you. You are so important to us, and we will always be here for you."
He kissed Eri on the forehead and held her along with Aizawa until she stopped crying. With a final hug and a gentle smile, he let her go and looked into her eyes. “How’re you feeling?” Yamada asked.
“A little better,” Eri said. “Will you be able to go back to sleep tonight?” Aizawa asked. “I don’t know. I’m still scared.” Eri trembled. She was still afraid to go back to sleep after experiencing a dreadful dream.
Yamada snapped his fingers after he thought up of an idea. “How about we tell you a story about a monster who can protect you while you sleep?” He suggested. Eri tilted her side. “A monster?” “Yeah, and he’s a nice monster, too,” Aizawa added.
“What kind of monster?” Eri asked. Yamada gave her a sly smile. “It’s a special monster,” He said. “It only comes out when you’re really scared.” “Here,” Aizawa picked her up and adjusted Eri to lay on her back against his belly. “This kind of monster uses a special technique to get laughing if your sad.”
“What kind of monster is he, daddy?” Eri asked. “He’s the tickle monster!” Yamada shouted out of nowhere and started to tickle her sides, making her giggle. Eri squealed with laughter as Yamada tickled her. "Ehehehehehehehehe papahahahaha!" She said between laughs and curled her arms against her sides.
“And the tickle monster had decided to come to visit!” Aizawa joined his husband to tickle Eri. She wiggled side to side when she felt fingers fluttering against her belly.
“Ehehehehehehehe it tihihihihickles!” Eri squealed. “He tickles you under here,” Yamada tickled Eri under her arms. “Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“He tickles you over here,” Aizawa scratched her sides. “Ehehehehehehehehe nohohohohoho!”
“He tickles you all sorts of places just to get you laughing and squirming all over the place until you feel all better!” Yamada taunted Eri as he continued to dug his fingers into her underarms.
“Papahahahahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” Eri kicked her legs and rolled around, filling the room with the sound of her sweet laughter.
Yamada gasped. “I know another good place to tickle!” He scooted down the bed and grabbed hold of one of Eri’s ankles. “Your cute little feet!”
“Not my feheheheet, papahahahaha!” She cried as she tried to pull her leg away from one of the tickle monsters, but the other tickle monster pulled her back down and tickled her tummy.
“You're not going anywhere, little miss! Not until I had my fill!” Aizawa said playfully. He kept her on his lap while Yamada skittered his fingers all over Eri’s foot. “Ehehehehehehehehe nohohohohoho! Daddyehehehe! Papahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Eri kicked her leg to get her papa to let go, but Yamada got a tight grip and tickled her toes. “Deliver the final blow, Shouta!” He encouraged. Aizawa smirked and lifted Eri’s pajama shirt to blow a deadly raspberry. His stubble made it worse.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DADDYEHEHEHE!” Eri shrieked and tried to push Aizawa’s head away, but it was no use. She didn’t have enough strength to make him stop, and he was a lot stronger than her.
After the two tickle monsters had enough of torturing their daughter, the three of them snuggled closely together. Eri gave a loud and long yawn. “Looks like our little sleepyhead is tired,” Yamada said as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. Aizawa yawned as well. “I hate contiguous yawns. Yeah, I’m tired as well. Eri can sleep with us for tonight.”
Eri had already fallen asleep before Aizawa noticed and turned off his lamp. “Hmph, goodnight, baby girl.” He and Yamada got comfortable in their bed and ensured Eri was safe and sound asleep.
Warnings: None. This is literally 2.200 words of Aizawa being WEAK for his friends, tickling and being tickled by them. It’s cute, it’s fluffy and full of teases, playful tickles and warm feelings. Switch!Aizawa, Switch!Nemuri, Switch!Toshinori, Switch!Hizashi and Ler!Tensei. All the relationships are platonic
Kanene’s notes: I 100% give this fanfic to my sisters that painted my nails and lightly tickled me for a few secs while I was rambling which immediately made think about happiness and love and all the soft stuff in between for weeks. <3
[~*~]
Aizawa loved to be tickled.
He wasn’t ashamed to admit this.
It made him feel silly, yes, sometimes even shy, but not ashamed.
Most people would find tickling as an annoying thing or his liken for it weird, but he could care less about them. He loved it. Simply and quick like that. It was only rational, afterall: he was always the kind to be affectionate - in his own quiet, unwavering and attentive way - with the people he was close with, not holding himself back when he felt it would be proper - or simply nice - to share headpats, half hugs or shoulder bumps with his friends. Or to just follow them around like a particularly determined and easily irritated shadow, seeking their warmth just like a cat sought for a sunny spot to nap.
Tiny touches and daily small doses of affection quickly became an important part of his life, especially after he got into UA and met the most important people he would ever know, people he would take and follow to the most difficult and easier days of his life.
So, yeah, Shouta could recognize he was quite a tad touchy. He could admit it even, on a particular early morning around his friends, right when everything feels just a bit more unreal and dreams are closer to touch. Even if this memory was something that Nemuri and Hizashi would constantly tease him about, delighted to discover a something that would make their so gloomy and grumpy companion share a tiny smile for a piece of second before immediately shoving both it and the beginning of a blush that appeared on his face in his scarf.
They were all chill with this part of himself, too. More than happy to answer and support his touches with plenty of hugs, snuggles and a constant invasion of his personal space (not that he complained) without even a blink. Like he said: it’s only rational that his love for touch and the closeness that meant trusting someone translated into something as tickling.
It simply felt right.
To just let himself close his eyes and smile, to lazily wiggle around as Hizashi began to prod and skitter his fingers on ribs, finding and attacking all his weak spots with a precision and accuracy that came with years of experience and friendship, leaving plenty of tingles and tickly shocks to generously spread on his torso and fish more huffed giggles and quiet snorts from the dark haired hero as he go.
To bask in the warmth of the friendly, playful teases and lights pokes of fun that spilled freely and unashamedly from Nemuri’s smirking mouth when she sneakily wormed her hands to his armpits, skillfully using her nails to create not only a quite loud squeal in the sea of puffing giggles, but also one of the most unbearable sensations he ever felt in his life.
To ignore everything else and only focus on holding Yagi’s wrists as they got dangerously close to one of his most ticklish spots, even if he showed no real struggle to push the offending digits away, just keeping them in a loose hold, tittering non stop at the way the taller scratched and scribbled on every inch of sensitive skin, gradually increasing the speed. His clear smile of half amusement and half fondness plastered on his features that never failed to make his cheeks prickle with hotness.
To feel his mood immediately light up and his day get just a grain better at the rush of adrenaline flooding his system at Tensei’s fast, startling pokes that always seemed to get him in the moments he least expected it - not a easy accomplishment, something Aizawa should mention - or at the surprising tickle attacks full of squeezings and raspberries that, somehow, seemed to came when he most wanted it, with the right amounts of awful teases and incredibly fun, giddy energy that accompanied the underground hero hours after they parted ways. Probably a skill that comes with being an older brother.
It didn’t matter if it was just one of his friends or all of them at once. If his silent huffed snorts and low laughter mingled with Yagi’s calm presence, his quiet teases being always careful to be delivered on the most unexpected moments in an exact formula that never failed to make hotness prickle on the skin of his cheeks. Or if it clashed and danced beautifully in sync with Hizashi’s own loud laughter, just a tad of taunting and just a tad of amused, both of their reactions filling the air with playfulness and games full of “Let’s see how long can the gloomy, grumpy hero Eraserhead last before being defeated by a few tiny tickly tickles”.
If Nemuri would always start a collection of squeals, squeaks and yelps when she decided to tickle him, being sure to properly coo at every one, something which would normally make the underground hero flare with indignation (he was not cute, dammit), but, under how much soft her grins got during those times, he let it go. Or if Tensei would make as his goal to find any new tickle spots, showering his sides, back, calves, neck and basically anywhere with all the kind of soft pokes and maddening pinches, only to his determined expression to totally light up and his snickers to ring freely when he succeeded in fishing a bark of laughter from Shouta.
Sometimes they would all collectively look at Aizawa and decide that he needed a smile on his day and then jump on him in a mess of hands scribbling, skittering, prodding and tickling everywhere.
With Nemuri’s loud brags of how she was the first one to make Shouta giggle her name out loud and did you see how much adorable that was awww, sorry guys it must suck for you all to not be able to do that but don’t worry it’s fine no one can be the best I will gladly bear such heavy burden alone.
With Tensei’s loud laughter and playful bump of shoulders asking for space, come on give a bit of space for the tickle master here, I want to test something that makes Tenya go absolutely crazy, it’s so cute, he couldn’t stop himself from becoming a mess of giggles and you definitely will want to see it if Shouta has even a quarter of his reaction.
With Toshinori’s wheezing snickers as he requested for everyone to please calm down and stop making such a fuss, there is plenty of Shouta for everyone here to tease and attack and he knows, he knows it must tickle a lot with how incredibly ticklish you are, Shouta-san, but if you could stay still for just a bit longer for Tensei to try this new thing (even if his own hands kept tap-tap-tapping the sensitive skin right under his knees and that definitely was not helping) it would be really nice.
With Hizashi’s taunting pokes and scribbles that played with his reflexes, teasing his armpits when he tried to hide his face, skittering on his neck when an attempt of a pout grazed his lips and showering his lower back with scritches every time he tried to curl in a defensive ball. Always more than happy to cheer loudly at any of his reactions because YEAH Shou, show us all that rocking smile, yo! You wouldn’t try to hide it from your best friends in the whole world, huh? After everything we’ve been through you wouldn’t leave us out here to suffer and die without our daily doses of Shouta’s giggles?
With all of their attentive gazes, careful touches and soft whispered questions, checking if he was fine, if that was okay, if they went too far, filling his heart with such an amount of care and a love that never failed in leaving Aizawa speechless.
Even though his friends would be adamant to deny that last part, especially with how quick he was to recover from their attack and immediately pull Nemuri to his arms, ignoring her flirts and wobbly attempts to break from his hold with more clumsy tickle attacks to focus his attention in squeezing the especial spot just right above her knees and a few inches to the left that created the most lovely snorts. After that it didn’t take too long for a flow of uncontrollable laughter to flow freely in the air, which, on itself, meant that now he only needed to whisper a few teases close to her ear - how could a single person have such ticklish ears he would never know, but the loud squeals and crackled death treats made this spot one of their favorites to tickle -, letting them evolving to an onslaught of nibbles - and a couple or two of kisses, - before she finally got distracted enough to not realize one his hands getting way too close to her stomach.
The loud wheezes and sudden silence that bathed the whole space meant that the panther was already after his next victim.
(And, if he stayed just a few seconds more than necessary, hugging Nemuri close to him while she recovered, it didn’t matter. He was out before she could gather enough oxygen to tease him about being a complete, incorrigible and utter softie. Shut up. You know nothing.)
A high pitched shriek that was cut in the middle of being shouted always made pretty clear who was the next one to be caught.
And this time Shouta already had gotten most of his breath back, but, even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be so difficult to transform Hizashi in a mess of blushes, squealed ‘nononono’s and infinite squawks, even if the black haired one just did as much as look in his direction.
When asked about it, Yamada said it was because of his smirk. There was just something in the way his eyes glinted in a playful way and his lips were pulled up in a grin which basically shouted ‘You are dead’ that made all his nerves alight and incoherent noises to bubble on his throat. Now, how the blond was able to realize that while he was kicking and squirming and wiggling and trashing non stop on the floor, Aizawa didn’t know.
Eventually the underground hero would be able to dig his hands on his thighs and draw senseless nothings on his soles, occasionally scratching his toes just to watch him jump and yelp, his own low, playful pokes of fun being easy to be heard over Hizashi’s usual silent laughter that made his entire body shake with happiness and delight.
(And, if he brushed Yamada’s hair with his fingers while he squirmed the rest of his giddy energy on the floor so it would look a little bit less of a mess, enjoying the not-quite silence that hung around then, no, he didn’t. You saw nothing. Get out.)
Tensei, on his turn, wasn’t particularly fond of being tickled. He would endure a few pokes or a random raspberry if they got caught in a tickle fight or any similar situation, but more of that was not his definition of a good time. This required Aizawa to be creative during his revenges, then, usually deciding to pull a snicker and distract the other with a couple of pinches on his sides, fast enough to just divert his attention while Shouta stole some of his fidelity cards of their favorite cafeteria and a pair of Tenya’s baby pictures from his wallet before tangling his capture scarf on his arms so he could safely dart away without being immediately chased.
He still had one victim left, afterall.
(Before going, however, he always spared some time to adjust Tensei’s glasses so they stop being dangerously close to falling from the tip of his nose, a tradition that began during their time on UA as students and continued until nowadays, even if Tensei kept trying to bite him every single time. Nuisance.)
Toshinori was a little more like himself in this point, much more full of breathless giggles and sudden snorts than a strong belly laughter - like Hizashi or Kayama. It was fine. It was perfect. Because honestly Shouta already had enough of All Might’s customary, booming laughter, but this? The high pitched, quiet ‘mercys’ he let out amidst his titters? The muffled yelps and low snickered babbles full of nonsense filling the room when Aizawa let his fingers prod softly on his ribs and tap their way across his right side, finding and exploring any weak spot for quick, maddening seconds before jumping to another one?
He could never, ever get enough of this.
The smiles, the squirms, the quiet and loud reactions, the whispered teases, the feeling that brought warmth to his chest every time he saw one of his friends smile and thought ‘I did that’, the way they grinned proudly after one of their tickle fights, the comfortable silence that sat with around them after those moments, the excited conversations, the warm touches, the nice embraces.
…Yeah. Aizawa loved to tickle his friends. And he loved being tickled by them. He loved and loved and loved and loved again and again and again.
Kanene’s note: I am very proud of this sdfghjqswerty.
Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:
* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to the anime/manga Boku no Hero.
* This is a SFW tickle fanfic. ^w^)b
* This is Lee!Toshinori with Ler!Hizashi + Ler!Aizawa. Platonic or Romantic. Around 4.500 words.
* This has mouth tickles (raspberries, nibbles, tickly kisses...), teasy nicknames, use of the spotlight system (green, yellow and red) and baby talk. If there is anything that needs to be tagged just lemme know!
* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/
* Tell someone that makes you feel safe how much they matter to you. If you want, no words are needed. Sometimes just an emoji or ‘this reminds of you’ is needed. Don’t forget you’re especial to someone, as well. <33
[~*~]
“W-wait!”
His arms twitched on their position above his head and, not for the first time, he felt himself starting to lower them in a desperate urge to hide his flaming face adorned by a soft, uncontrollable kind of smile that only a few people in the world could claim the happiness of seeing.
A warm hand rested on the right side of his ribcage and nails positioned themselves under his toes, two playful gazes looking at him, warningly.
“Let’s-” a quiet gasp escaped from his lips when he tried to make a placating gesture with his hands and lowered them further, making the nimbly fingers start to wiggle restlessly on his spots. “I aham sure we can think another solution for this p-problem!”
Goosebumps ran freely across his body in a wave of warm and excitement as the concentrated, evil black eyes blinked lazily at him, their owner not dignifying himself with an answer before he shoved his face back on the right side of his stomach, nuzzling and humming calmly, his nose exploring, drawing shapes on the ticklish skin, the adult being extremely careful and attentive enough so every vibration seemed to buzz on every and any of his so, so sensitive nerves, leading his back to arch with the unbearable sensation and the “attacker” to smirk in his quietness.
“I-I beg f-for you to reconside-eek!” He squirmed harder as a low ‘oh’ was pronounced, trying - with not nearly all his strength, if he was being honest, but no one needed to know that - to dislodge the other adult from the newly found sweet spot right next to his hip, which was currently being rustless attacked with soft, barely there kisses that, no matter how much he buckled, refused to move. “Please, please. Yohou don’t have to d-do this!”
His barriers were starting to crumble, quiet sounds beginning to find their way out of his firmly pressed lips, red growing more on his face as an awed cooing researched his ears and the long, awfully long nails lightly scratched the arch of his feet, making themselves known. They prodded, scribbled and danced skillfully across his sole, circling the weak spots that, for the way the blonde’s grin widened every time he stumbled in a new one, wouldn’t be forgotten that easily.
And then Toshinori giggled.
That was when he realized he was doomed.
“Aw, but I do think we do! Who wouldn’t want to hear more of that cute laughter of yours, my dear squeaky listener?”
“Hi-hizashi-san!”
“Yes, my wiggly wiggley bear? What is the matter? You seem rather smiley today. ~” Hizashi sing-sang, an only one finger focusing at that lovely spot right under the ball of his feet that made him squeal in a poorly hidden delight, his laughter starting to overcome his titters. Especially as Shouta decided to be a little more hands-on and weak, almost maddening touches were spidered on Yagi’s right side, not helping at all the flow of high pitched squeaks escaping from his mouth. “Does that tickle? Huh? Does that tickle tickle tickle you so much that it makes you want to give us all that amazing squealing squeals and cute yelps? Aw, isn’t that so kind of him, Shou?”
“You think that after so much hero work the Symbol of Peace would have gotten at least a bit of a resistance.” Aizawa pointed, not bothering to lift his head so his words wouldn’t be muffled as they hit directly Toshinori’s tummy, not even a drop of remorse on his tune as his act made the aforementioned to crackle, kicking as a series of ‘nonono’s filled the room. “Don’t you agree, Toshinori? Just a few well placed tickles here and there and then All Might would be begging for mercy in a few seconds. Tsk. So ticklish, so helpless, so cute.”
Aizawa didn’t call them cute often. He did, however, reconsider his choice when his gaze quickly locked on Yagi, a nice feeling bubbling in his chest with the other’s half whine, half giggle, his wobbly, happy smile almost disappearing under all the blush that consumed his features.
“Right!” Yamada experimentally squeezed his calf, beaming when a guffaw answered him, the leg tugging halfheartedly on his grip, arms hugging himself to not push them away. “But that is no problem! We are teachers, after all. Teachers very capable of teaching him how to increase his endurance, and I think I have the perfect idea of a lesson to help him.”
Yagi was dying. Part of himself wanted to flee away from all the attention, all the warm, caring touches and compliments and that absurdly insufferable sensation that still tingled his body even now, when Shouta and Hizashi stopped to loom over his form with matching evil smirks, making it almost impossible for him to not hide his face and curl in a silly, rather giggly ball.
The words of the previous finally sank in his mind and he fiercely shook his head, not trusting his own mouth and trying to not let the amusement he felt blooming on him to drip on his move.
“Awesome! Thank you for agreeing, tickly listener. It’s amazing to know you’re also as eager for this just as we are!”
“But I did not-” A true shriek cut his words as Aizawa dug his fingers on his armpits, resulting in a sea of wild giggles to overtake him. The tickles being mean enough to be able to completely dissolve his protests, although also the right amount of light so Yamada’s teasy words would still be able to be heard above him.
“So!” The Voice Hero clapped joyfully, getting even more excited at the other's reactions. “The best way to be prepared for any situation is to train! Practice! You need to be prepared to all resist to any and every trickys tickly tickle technique that exists, which means scribbles, scratches, squeezes, kneads, nibbles, nuzzles, kisses, spidering, nursery rhymes, and ooooh, of course, raspberries!” Hizashi nodded once, determined.
“I can’t!” Yagi threw his attempts of forming entire, coherent sentences out of the window, his brain basically short-circuiting on Hizashi’s first examples. “Please, please, I swear! I cahahan’t!”
“Oh, don’t worry my dear sweet, squirmy listener, it’s really a lot of work to do... But! You will not be doing it alone! Me and Shouta will be here cheering and helping you for hours and hours and hours until you master the whooole lesson. And," the blonde got closer, lowering his tune until his words were just a breath on Yagi's ears, teasing the sensitive spot no matter how much he shrugged and shook his head. "If you get something wrong all we need to do it's just start aaaall over and over again, right, Shou?!”
“Oh gohod.”
“Of course, I don’t waste my time with someone who doesn’t have potential.”
Aizawa’s predator smirk and tone maybe would be scarier if it wasn't broken by Yamada’s loud cooing, the taller coming back to his previous position as he rested a quick squeeze on Shouta's hip, fishing a surprised snort and a warningly glance from the black haired man, who, on his turn received an innocent whistling as an answer. Toshinori chuckled in amusement at the scene, gratefully taking the breather.
“Better be careful,” Yagi’s tune was innocent, with a titter dropping here and there, still, a dangerous shine gleamed intensely on his blue eyes, “so that lesson won’t backfire on you in the future.”
Aizawa stared at him, the tip of his lips curling in a barely there grin that heavily contrasted and complemented Yamada’s dramatic gasp in betrayal.
“Very well.” Eraserhead said, positioning himself on top of his legs, successfully pining him on the mattress. "Let's take care of any riot that might happen right now, then."
Suddenly, All Might senses all the confidence he felt not a few seconds ago to transform in butterflies flying in despair on his stomach. Shouta’s shadow stood above him, the usual bored expression plastered on his features as his face lowered closer and closer of the blonde, stopping just a few centimeters from his ear.
Toshinori held his breath in anticipation.
“Green?”
Something… something he couldn’t really nominate melted in his heart and for a moment he forgot how words worked.
He really loved them both so much.
“Green.”
Shouta chuckled.
"Good." He adjusted himself, resting their foreheads together and capturing those blue eyes to himself. "Giggles, titters, whines… every sound you make I will be able to hear clearly so be very, very careful and don't laugh.”
Toshinori gasped when the feeling of skilled hands, scratching and kneading his side shoot through him. The offending fingers danced slowly, taking their time on each weak spots before switching to another one, a bit too close of his stomach or his spine, completely oblivious to how Toshinori's chest already shook with trapped sounds. Toshinori realized, maybe too late, how their new position prevented him to perceive where Aizawa would attack next, every time the black-haired hero changed his target to an unexpected spot adding a tear in his barriers, the squeaks and crackles getting stronger and harder to contain.
“So, sweetpea, how would you rate your ticklish experience from one to ten, so far?” Yagi couldn’t help the way his body twitched and squirmed involuntarily at Yamada’s voice, his imagination unhelpfully whispering that, at any moment, any moment now, Hizashi would give up from his purely verbal teases and be touchier. “One being ‘That Is All You Can Do?’ and ten being ‘This Is Everything I ever Dreamed About Please Don’t ever Stop?’”
“P-p-lease!”
“That is not a number.” Aizawa observed, jumping in his friend’s teasing at the same time he stopped, thinking about something until his eyes shone. His voice was velvety, almost as a purring. “But that can be helped. Here, I will refresh your memory.” A finger pressed on the lowest rib on his right and the blonde’s eyes widened, a snort flying from his lips, his head shaking from one side to other, a pleading gaze.
“Wait! Aizawa, please, wait! I will do anything!”
“What.” Suddenly the finger was replaced by the whole hand shaped as a claw, the spot where it touched tingled in anticipation. “Did you call me?”
Aizawa was adamant about very few things, actually.
Hizashi chuckled darkly, free of any pity, next to him. “I think he is asking for it, Shou.”
Do not mess with his cats. Do not mess with his kids. Do not wake him up. Do not eat his jelly porches and, of course, if he gave you the permission to call him by his first name, use it.
“No, no, no! I meant! I meheheant Shouta!”
Of course, except for the first two, he didn’t actually care that much for when the others were ignored by his close friends, but - he curled his fingers, watching as Yagi continued to squirm and snicker at every twitch of his fingers - that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have his fun with this slip.
“And also,” again, Yamada pipped in, “he just giggled, didn’t you just said him to not laugh?”
“I did.”
“Please! Anything! Anything you want! Just name it! I will givehe you anythihihihing.”
Aizawa adjusted himself so his lips would rest on Yagi’s neck, he sighed deeply, relaxed.
“Then give me your laughter.”
And he started.
The fingers dug on his spot, prodding and scribbling in attacks which danced in a perfect synchrony with the fast nibbles assaulting all the sensitive skin he could reach, expertly dodging from all the trashing, the attacks seemingly to only be fueled by his shrieks.
“An autograph!” loud, booming laughter exploded, snorts and an intelligible mix of half English and half Japanese painting his words stumbling and falling nonstop from his mouth. Yagi lost track of what he was saying the moment a raspberry was placed right under his chin and the hand tased his side, vibrating and vibrating and vibrating there for what seemed an entire eternity. “Rare merchandise! My house! Anything, I swear, anything but this!”
“Oh my god.” Hizashi braced himself on the wall, his conflicted heart torn between cooing and teasing the other for how much adorable he was being and giggling in joy with his funny reactions. “Oh my god. Shouta, please, don’t ever stop tickling him, this is the most precious scene I witnessed in my whole life.”
Shouta felt tempted to agree, however, after a couple of minutes, he stopped, shoving his face on the other’s shoulder to hide his own soft chuckles, being accompanied by the residual, bubbling giggles. They waited until his breath became steadier before the one with black, deep eyes stared at the watery, gleaming blue ones.
“Shoutahaha…”
“Just one more spot, okay?”
Toshinori closed his eyes, nodding before trying to hide his expression under his hands, being stopped by Yamada, who took each one of them gently and gave a kiss on his knuckles, lacing their fingers, knowing very well Yagi wouldn’t attempt to pry them away like this.
“No hiding your beautiful face, remember?” Yagi wanted to huff in annoyance at the unprompted tease, but it was being said with such lovely care that he couldn’t help but melt under it, especially when Shouta began to bombard the place behind his ear with kisses and small raspberries, descending him in quiet titters and silent laughter sprinkled with sporadic guffaws.
After a few more of kisses, tickles and fast, inaudible giggles he ceased his attack, giving a last nibble on his ear before getting up from him, letting the Symbol of Peace recompose himself between his blush and gigantic smile, offering a cup of water when his laughter stopped to fly across the room, all of them enjoying the silence as Toshinori drank the liquid, thanking Shouta.
“Green?” Hizashi asked, stepping a little closer, a shy grin on his lips.
“Oh my… Why do you have to make me say that?” Toshinori squeezed their hands, huffing and deviating his gaze. “Green.”
The blinding smile that was sent in his way seemed to have enough shine to light up the whole house. “Let’s jam!”
The Voice Hero tried to untwine their hands kindly, blinking in surprise when the other only held them more fiercely. He tried again, same result. Behind them Shouta snorted, amused.
“Giggly bear, my sweetpea, you will have to let go of my hands.”
“Absolutely not, you will attack me.”
Yagi stared at him with a challenge in his face, daring the hero to do something about that.
“Well…” Hizashi winked playfully. “I always have my mouth, and, you know? That wiggly wiggley yummy tummy of yours seems to be asking for a couple or maybe a dozen of raspberries… ~”
“Wait, no!” Toshinori squirmed, instinctively sucking his belly. “Don’t!”
“Aw, but that is such a pity! I was thinking about being a bit merciful today, you know? Maybe some skittering under your knees, being sure to give enough attention to every inch of both of them, I mean, we don’t want anyone feeling left out of the fun, of course! Then I would give one or two squeezes on them, a swift under your wiggly wiggley toes, a few scratches on your squirmy feet and voilá! A happy, silly, giggly Yagi ready to go. But, well, now I believe I don’t have another choice except place all the mean raspberries aaaall over your unprotected stomach and sides and ribs and sides and neck and ribs and-”
“Stop, stop!” Toshinori let go of his hands in order to hug his tingling torso, curling in a defense ball, trying to stop the feeling of the imaginary tickles. “J-just get over it!”
“Aw,” Hizashi placed a kiss on his temple, smiling softly for a piece of moment before letting it turn into an evil grin. “Your wish is an order, my adorably ticklish bear.”
He positioned his hands in each leg, grazing his nails from the bottom of his calves and lightly scribbling their way up to the wonderfully sensitive spot under his knee, taking his time to draw spirals and rivers on the skin, being very content to feel the other squirm under his touches, huffs of laughter puffing from his lips. “Hey, Toshi, can I ask a question?”
“Fuck,” he squeaked when an unexpected pinch was placed on his hip before Hizashi innocently continued his previous attack. “Y-you may.”
“Right! But, first of all, let me take care of this two...” Yamada smiled, completely unfazed as he sat on the bed, holding both ankles and lifting before resting them on his shoulders. “There you go, squirmy toy! All comfy and unable to wiggle away from my curious, tickly fingers!”
“He is going to kick you.” Aizawa rolled his eyes, getting closer until he could get a firm, yet gentle, grip on Yagi’s ankles, truly preventing him from moving them. “Here. Now ask your question.”
“Thank you, babe.” Hizashi relished on the way Aizawa’s ears were painted in red before beaming again at Toshinori, who kept trying to pull his legs away from his predicament, and seeming to take the fact that he wasn’t laughing his head off as a personal offense. He rested his hands on his knees again, one of them squeezing them skillfully while the other scratched the sensitive skin underneath it. “So, Toshinori, what do you think it tickles more? When I squeeze, squeeze, squeeze those adorable ticklish kneecaps or when I tickle tickle tickle them silly?”
“No, no, no!”
“No?! Aw, I am afraid that isn’t really the answer I am looking for, darling… But that is okay! Do you know what I am going to do now, Toshi? Huh? Do you know?”
Yagi just shook his head, knowing pretty well that anything said would just fuel the evil words dripping freely from the other’s mouth.
“Not even a guess?” He changed his technique to lightly tease with plentiful of scribbles the sensitive spot with just the tip of his fingers. “An itsy bitsy tiny guess? Awn.” A fake pout adorned his face. His fingers ascended a bit more, now tormenting the thighs, their owner smiling wide as the squirms began to get stronger, drawing circles around the little weak spots he knew that would fish the wildest laughter. “But I will tell you anyway! Because the Tickle Monster is feeling very kind today. I am going to get those sensitives calves riiiight here!”
“Hizashi!” Yagi tried to pull his legs again, his giggles becoming more frantic as he realized they didn’t even buckle from their spot. “I can’t. I promise you, I can’t! Hihihihizashi!”
“But I do think you can! I believe in you, Toshinori. You’re such a strong, nice tickle bug. I think you definitely can take some good cootchie-coothie-coos right here!” He poked. “And here” Poke. “And here, and here, and here, here, here!”
Suddenly a sea of pokes - just that, just tiny, harmless, quick pokes that shouldn’t be able to make him feel even more ticklish than he already was - assaulted his calves, some surprising pinches and clawing also making an appearance and disappearing just as fast as they came.
“Shut up, please, shut up!” Throwing his head with loud, squealing chortles, Toshinori pleaded, his mind overtaken with how much it tickled and how unbearable it was and how amazing all of this felt.
“Gasp! Toshi! How can you say that? The Tickle Monster thought you loved his teases. Why would you want them to ever stop? Do they make you feel more ticklish? Huh? Do they? Do all my silly teases and tickly attacks make the big, strong Yagi Toshinori become a very lovely and adorable mess of those cute sounds? Huh?”
“Don’t you think how great would it be if we just stayed like this forever? Me, here, playing with you and your awfully helpless toes,” at the mention of the new spot Yamada changed his target, making the other to arch his back and shriek in belly laughter as fingers attacked under his toes, tickling and digging unmercifully at every single one of them. “and hearing this wonderful laughter! Don’t even make me start about your laughter! It is music to my ears.”
When nothing but a series of snorts and loud laughter answered him, the blonde decided to stop his tickles, slowing them until his warm hands just rested there, peacefully.
Toshinori wiped the single tear that traveled to his hot cheek, just a quick glance in Aizawa and Yamada’s general direction being enough to make his giggles start a-new.
“I am not even doing nothing to you.” The tease couldn’t be helped, especially as his giggles got stronger and, consequently, quieter.
“Your hands!”
“My hands? What about them?” Hizashi shouldn’t be allowed to feel that much smug nor powerful.
“They’re just…” A flow of intelligible noises fell from Yagi’s lips, and he decided to try again. “They’re just there! It tickles!”
“Now, it does?”
“I would never have guessed.” Aizawa deadpanned, watching as the other wiggled and squirmed in protest.
“Right? I mean, they’re just chilling there. No moving, no tickling and Toshinori attacks them like that! I would feel wounded, but I guess he is really just a very ticklish giggle bug. Shouta, what are we going to do? The lesson clearly isn’t working… Oh, I wonder if there is something I could do to stop tickling him...”
“Just take them off there!” Yagi gasped when the fingers started to skitter around his ankles, another newly discovered sweet spot that erupted a new round of snorts. “No!”
“I don’t think there is anything that can be done. We could just stop and stare at him and he would be laughing uncontrollably in three seconds.” Aizawa remarked.
“He is just too much sensitive, ya know? Just an itsy bitsy touch and you get him all giggly and blushy.”
“Am nohohot!”
“And helpless too. Cute and helpless.”
“Shouta, plehehease, let me go!”
“Yean, absolutely.” Hizashi agreed, shaking his head with fake sadness, a tiny grin blooming on his lips. “I guess this is our fate, Sho, to hear him laugh and squeal and snort and giggle-giggle-giggle at anything we do.”
“A pity.”
“Enough!” Both stopped, hearing the light of tiredness painting Yagi’s tune. “That- haha, that is enough, please.”
“Yellow?”
“Red.” Toshinori smiled, feeling yet too shy to find their gazes with his. “I'm just an old man with one lung.”
Hizashi snorted, offering him a bottle of water and heading to the kitchen to make his special tea - after all, no one knew a better recipe for tired throats than the Voice Hero himself, - and Aizawa just rolled his eyes, sitting on the mattress and massaging his feet, a calming gesture that helped both to relax as they enjoyed the silence with the phantom laughter and reminiscent giddiness that still ran on their veins.
“Shouta,” Toshinori lightly hit the other’s thigh with his free feet until the black haired one turned his attention to him, not even slightly prepared for the soft, incredibly soft, expression and gleaming, energetic eyes which found his. “Thank you.”
Aizawa scoffed, quickly trying to brush off the warmth engulfing his heart and smile that tried at all cost to appear on his features.
“It was very… enjoyable.” Toshinori pressed further, tipping his head to the side in an attempt to see his expression. “Your technique is very effective! You don’t rely a lot on verbal teases but the way you can mix different attacks and keep track of which spots bring the most reactions is very impressive! Not to mention-” A squeak broke his thoughts when a mean squeeze was delivered on his calf, Aizawa huffing before massaging the local to make the tingles go away.
“Continue with this and I will not be above ganging up with Hizashi to wreck you, again.”
“If it’s Complementing Eraserhead hours and you’re being too stubborn to accept the deserved nice words I think it’s very clear who I will end up helping.” Hizashi remarked as he got into the room, distributing the tea before squishing himself between them, almost spilling the drink as a warning tickle on his stomach made him jump.
“Hey!” The one being called just quirked an eyebrow at him, almost challenging. Hizashi just shrugged. “It would still be worth it.”
“Yagi,” Toshinori blinked, surprised at being pulled on their usual bickering, staring Aizawa above the rim of his mug. “Analyses about Hizashi as the ler.”
An inhumane screech flew from Yamada’s lips. “Don’t you dare!”
When he was over, sneaking one and other praise for Eraserhead here and there, they were all laid on the bed, limbs entangled due both the magnetism that seemed to pull them together and the fact that if it wasn’t for it, Yamada would have already fled from the room on the shine of Yagi’s first word.
“I don’t like you.” The one with long, blond hair complained, grumbling when his sentence only made the others snuggle closer, snickering. “None of you. You’re both very mean and dirty traitors and I am going to scream.”
“Don’t.” Aizawa slurred from somewhere behind Toshinori, his tune showing he was almost asleep. Hizashi, who already forgave them for their “betray” searched for his waist, resting his arm on it and very lightly scratching the base of his back, a spot he knew would make the underground hero absolutely melt. Toshinori captured his free hand, coming close and humming softly as his finger traced the lines on his palm.
Soft. Good. Warm.
At some point of the conversation, someone had turned the television on, and for a few pieces of moment the show playing in the background was the only thing that filled the silence.
“Hey, Toshi.”
“Yes?”
“I know you don’t like a lot of attention when the tickling is over but… thank you.” A quick kiss was delivered on his forehead, happy to see no trace of discomfort on the other’s features, only a tiny, timid smile. “Thank you.”
“Go to sleep, Hizashi.” And then he kissed his knuckles, just like Hizashi did back then, and Shouta murmured something, pulling them closer and Hizashi smiled and the television started to grow more and more silent.
“Ok.”
After that, everything was soft, good, warm.
[~*~]
Inspirations!
* That entire AllEraserMic tickle series that I absolutely live for
* The teases from the fanfics of that amazing author
* A very especific post about cute reactions when the lee is being tickled but I can’t find it so please enjoy Onion’s blog (the op) instead. His blog is gold.
"Theeeere we go! There's my happy girl!" Eri squealed in response, squirming, wiggling and thrashing in an attempt to escape the nimbly fingers scribbling on her armpits, her legs kicking just about everywhere. "That is right! Hear those awesome laughter! Oh, is there a song more melodious than that? I don't think so."
"Paaaapaaa!!" The younger girl protested, "don't behehe mehehehean!"
"Sorry, sweetie, but there is no Papa here!" Hizashi stopped the tickling in order to hold the girl in the air, his 'malefic' grin losing for a second its evilness to show a genuine smile as Eri giggled harder. "I am now the Tickle Monster and I love to tickle sweet little girls just like you! Mwuahahaha!"
"Dahahahahad!" And in less then a second Eri was captured by Aizawa, who held her in a hug, blowing raspberries on her neck. "No! No!" She shrieked in delight "No more tickle monstehehers! Nahaha!"
"You smile is beautiful and don't let anyone say you otherwise." He mumbled, giving her a final, loud raspberry before meeting her eyes. Eri nodded, reminiscent giggles and squeaks still escaping from her mouth, especially when Yamada decided to crush both in a bear hug.
