#whatever back to being genderless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beom9yus · 7 months

Text

dare - choi soobin x reader

: soobin x genderless reader

: oral-soobin receiving, cum eating?tasting? pretty much it

: 2k words - just simply wanted to write about sucking him off LOL

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stare at your friend who was laying down on the hospital room bed. He’s looking away with a cute bunny pout as you laugh in his face. “How did you-how did you manage to break both your wrists and parts of your fingers?” You start shaking as you bite your bottom lip, trying to hold back from laughing in his face. You feel your cheekbones plump up from smiling, not being strong or mature enough to have a serious face.

His hands that are in casts almost all the way up to his elbows, are currently on the side of his body, one hand being mostly free, casted from his lower palm downwards. Meanwhile the right was entirely sculpted in a cast. Sadly for Soobin, you couldn’t help but guffaw. It was too funny. He’s annoyed now, raising his upper body up to quietly yell at you. He furrows his brows as he tells you, “Stop. It’s not even that funny. Hyuka dared me to do a cartwheel and I made it to the part where my hands are on the ground, and my legs in the air… and I have no clue what happened next. I’m going to be double handless for who knows how long.”

“You’re literally the last person anyone should dare when it comes to doing anything physical. Over six feet and you’re bad at anything that has to do with using your body.” He rolls his eyes and tries to cross his arms as he realizes he can’t, not properly at least. He just responds with, “yeah yeah whatever.”

You think again about Soobin trying to do a cartwheel and you start to feel yourself cry from the amount of giggles and chortling, hands wrapped around your stomach. “Damn Binnie, how are you going to do anything now? You quite literally need both your hands for almost everything.” You wipe some of the tears that rolled down your face, “By the way, did the rest of the group come already? I haven’t checked my phone since I got your call…Wait, how did you even call me?”

Looking unamused, he replies, “I had Hyuka dial you for me for your information. And yeah, they came already, you’re the last one to get here.” He looks like he’s thinking and he raises his head, looking ahead, and his eyes widen, “holy shit you’re right, how am I gonna do anything. How am I going to-“ he stops mid sentence as his ears redden. You quickly catch on. “Dude, you’re nasty.”

“Shut up, you’re the one that’s thinking weird stuff. Also, I’m probably going to have to see if I’ll be excused for some assignments or something? I’ll have to figure it out.”

“Well I’m not doing your assignments for you.”

You guys continue bickering like children until you’re both finally quiet.

You hum as you finally calm down and sit next to him.

“Hey, when are they letting you go home?”

“Tomorrow. They have to do extra checkups or something, I don’t know.”

You nod as you finally ask him if he needs anything else and he tells you no, but it seems like he changed his mind. “Actually, can you change the channel for me? This is boring.”

A day goes by, and both you and Soobin enter your shared space, finally getting home after they let him go. Obviously unable to drive, you had to bring him home. “Okay Soobin, welcome home again, don’t try to do any fancy aerobics for a while okay?” He just sighs, rolling his eyes, “ha ha. You’re so funny.” You shoot him a quick evil smile as you sit down on the couch. He decides to sit next to you as you put on some random movie. Most of the week is normal, Soobin able to do some low level things with one hand, and asking for your help with what he can’t.

It was a quiet day when you entered the apartment. You put down the bags of groceries as you started heading towards Soobin’s room, asking if he wanted food. That’s when you hear him curse, “Shit, ow.” You thought he hurt his hand and needed something as you entered the room.

“Hey Soobin, you need help with somethin-“

You widen your eyes in shock as you see him sitting on his gaming chair, sweatpants around his thighs, as his almost cast free hand is on his member. You struggle as you slowly step back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Fuck I-I’m so sorry, I should’ve knocked. Let’s just forge-“

He doesn’t look that embarrassed, instead of hiding, he places his right arm over his face, voice shaking, “Y/n help me please. Please.”

You stop in your tracks as you try to process what he just said. “What?”

He turns his face away and you can see how red his ears and side of his cheeks are. Left hand still on his dick, he starts answering you with a quiet and quivering voice, “it’s-it’s been more than a week since I’ve gotten off and I just…I just can’t. It hurts to try because of this stupid fucking cast, it’s too high up on my palm so it hurts me, a-and it’s my left hand so it’s harder. Please y/n, I wouldn’t want to ask you something this humiliating, I just need to get off. If..if you’re uncomfortable I understand too, I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away.”

You kind of feel bad for the guy…

You deeply breathe in and out once, “Okay. I’ll help you. Only this once. I don’t want our friendship to get all weird, you’re important to me you know.” He lifts his head up as he looks at you, shaking his head quickly, “it won’t! It won’t, I promise! Please, just do something. Anything.”

You go up to him as he watches you, his heart racing fast. It’s not like he hadn’t dreamt or thought of this once or twice. Maybe a thousand times. It’s not my fault, he thinks, he just thinks you’re the cutest person ever, no big deal. You get on your knees as you remove his hand from his dick. You wondered how you should help him, not realizing you were staring at it. He flushed at the way you were seemingly staring so intently, feeling his dick twitch. He was glad his hands were restrained, or else he would’ve lifted you up and kissed you by now.

You hear Soobin whisper above you, “Y/n…”

“Oh. Sorry..um…” you quickly spit in your hand as you wrap your hand around him, unable to close the gap between your index finger and thumb. You see the way he gasps and slightly jumps from the feeling, liking the way your hand looks and feels on his dick. You stroke his dick shyly, unsure of what he even likes when it comes this kind of stuff. You guys were close, but never talked about anything this sexual before.

You look up at him nervously, and if Soobin was in some kind of cartoon, he’d probably be like those guys where you could see their hearts beat out of their chest. Your hands feel so soft on him, and he could tell the way you were apprehensive on what you wanted to do. Soobin trying to help, tells you, “harder, fuck, a little more, please.”

You do as he tells you, seeing him moan quietly as he rolls his head back a little, bunny lips slightly opened. Your eyes divert back to his length in your hands, seeing how pretty it was. It felt hot and heavy against your palm. As you continued to look, a thought appeared: you wanted it in your mouth. Your body shifts at the thought, suddenly feeling hot as you swivel your thumb around his head, letting his precum smear against it, and you drag what you can down to his base.

You look up to see Soobin with his head rolled back, breathing heavily, distracted from the way you were making him feel. You didn’t know, but Soobin was doing his best not to look at you too much or else he fears he might come too quick, wanting this to last.

You take this as an opportunity, and you bite your lips as your face gets closer towards his dick. Opening your mouth, you finally take in his head. You taste him, sensing how he feels against your tongue. He gasps loudly as he involuntarily and softly places his hands, or in this case, casts, on your hair, taken by surprise. He accidentally bucks up his hips, making the cutest face you’ve seen. You look up at him with big eyes, tip of his dick in your mouth.

Soobin swears he’s dreaming. He caresses your hair with his partly free hand as his breathing gets heavier, now panting at you slowly taking him into your soft, wet mouth more. His hair’s on his forehead, almost covering his eyes as he rolls them back, holding back from thrusting into the back of your mouth. He cries out at the feeling of you running your tongue on the underside of his dick, feeling his vein as your tongue moves against it. His abs flex due to his movements, his panting getting heavier and heavier by the second.

You like the heavy feeling of him on your tongue, and you start to focus on breathing through your nose more, taking almost all of him in your mouth. With your hands on his thighs, you start moving your head as you suck in your cheeks, wanting to see him break down. You suddenly hear and see him whimper, cute sounds flooding your ears, and it travels straight to your core. You see the way he closes his eyes, his eyebrows creasing close together, small scowl on his face from the pleasure, and the way he was building up a sweat just from getting sucked off. He looked good.

You relax the best you can as you try to take him in deeper. You feel his head hit the back of your throat as you slightly choke, eyes watering and throat closing down. He looks down at you as he moans loudly, seeing your eyes wet and teary, making them shine while looking up at him, watching, seeing if you’re making him feel good. Your hand lets go of one of his thighs as you jerk off the rest of what you can’t fit in your mouth.

You decide to try to deep throat him once more, taking him in all the way towards the back of your mouth, holding still once you feel his tip prod against the back of your soft tissue. Soobin moans and whimpers at the feeling of your throat constricting his dick, and tries his best not to lift his hips up, no matter how bad he wants to. “Ah shit, y/n…y/n feels too good, not-not gonna last like this.”

You ignore him as you hear his sounds, whines spilling from his pretty pink lips as you continue to deep throat him. You moan at how needy you were starting to get, and Soobin almost cums, holding back like he has been this entire time because there’s no way he wants it to end any time soon. He looks down at you again, and sees how you’re drooling now, eyes, cheeks and nose red, your eyes big and watery, your lashes stuck together from the wetness. You go as deep as you can, choking around him as your nose almost touches his pelvis.

This was the last straw for Soobin as he lets out a final moan and whine of your name as you remove yourself from him and feel his hot seed hit your face. You hear him continue to pathetically whimper as Soobin’s body is still tensing as he continues to come a lot, hot ropes of cum landing on your tongue as you stick it out, wanting to taste every part of him.

Maybe his body wasn’t bad at everything, you’d have to find out.

646 notes · View notes

lightfeltmemories · 4 months

Text

trouble trio sharing a partner.

characters include: feitan, phinks, shalnark

note: fun fact, this was left as a draft on my main for like over a year and i read over it and thought.... it would be better on here, but anyway, there's a lot of adult trio poly stuff, why not trouble trio? I have plans (just me announcing it, I already know it'll take years for me to actually go through with making said content) on making trouble trio content, fanfics and whatnot. so, here's a headcanon post about how the trouble trio would go with a polygamous relationship with the reader, nsfw themes will have a 🔞 on the side so look out! and when it comes to requesting anything similar to this..... no, i will not do the adult trio.

trigger warnings: yandere tendencies (but there's no actual yandere stuff like obsessiveness and whatever, most of it is just their normal way of showing affection), mentions of kidnapping, possessiveness, reader's eventual death, feitan carves his initials onto you because "you're his."

parts of this contain nsfw material, do not interact if you are a minor.

How It Starts

So, who are you? For them to actually even care about your existence, you would either have to be a part of the troupe or be someone they know way back from Meteor City, I highly doubt they would go heart eyes over some really stunning person they ran into on a mission or so, because looks aren't everything, right? A pretty girl, a handsome boy, or an attractive genderless person isn't gonna phase them in the slightest, unless you're powerful enough to woo them out their boots, other than that, the choices are; being apart of the troupe (which is the most likely case, since they have a chance of them all being with you more often) or you being a friend of theirs in meteor city and their feelings grew overtime.

Who would fall for your first? I'm honestly tied between Phinks and Shalnark, for Feitan it would take like 2 billion years for his crush to kick in since he isn't in tune with his more softer emotions (yet), Shalnark to me is.... odd... he seems like the type to fall for someone oh so easy but dude is like, the personified version of "don't judge a book by its cover," and the only thing Phinks got going for him is..... anger issues, so I'd go with Phinks on this one! of course when people (troupe members) ask him about his affections towards you, he denies them with the most obvious blush on his face, his infatuation isn't exactly that obvious but there are some hints like him wanting to be next to you more or even the two of you hanging out on your off days! next on the list: Shalnark, so how exactly would he fall for you? well, he'd probably get paired up with you more on missions and when he starts to hang out with you more he starts to feel himself grow fond of you more, and it slowly grows into a crush! kind of simple really. And finally after those 2 billion years are up, Feitan is up next! Everyone has this collective idea that if he realizes he has a crush on you, he'd do the opposite of his two counterparts; he'd want to avoid you so that the feelings won't grow stronger as he considers it a distraction, he may even contemplate on killing you, which is something I really hate to say since I feel like the idea is slightly far fetched for his character (i'm guilty of saying this myself but i considering the topic of that specific post i wanted to be dramatic) but I can see why people think this, killing you only goes if you aren't a member of the troupe but since you are, he'd have to deal with you, forcing himself to accept the fact as time goes by that he is in love with you, he's confused with his feelings when it comes to you, he isn't used to crushes, no one to him is that special for him to fall for, love is very sacred to him, it's something he and the others mentioned above haven't really experienced, and as it grows, he starts to form a soft spot for you as he gets to know you well, he starts to find parts of you that made him like you to begin with. (ik Feitan's is kinda longer than the others but I'm biased he's my fav).

How would they act around you? This was really hard to do for some reason but I already stated above that Phinks would hang out with you more and would be near you a lot, at first his affections towards you wouldn't be too different to how he acts towards others, for someone like him he's pretty good at hiding his infatuation, though over time he's starting to loose the "I have a crush on Y/N" allegations, the others would tease him a little for how he acts around you, he shows to have more sympathy and affection for you, like he's more handsy with you than everyone else, and is most definitely protective over you, he really is a girly girl, ain't he? Shalnark is a bit more happier when he's in your presence, he opens up with you way more than everyone else (when you two are alone ofc) and plays video games with you, he'll never give you a break and let you win though, he's just too good! (And competitive) May not be as protective as Phinks but he damn sure isn't gonna let you getting injured slide. Feitan once again is an interesting case, since he's come to terms with him being infatuated with you, the signs will be waaaay more subtle than Phinks', you would lowkey be left confused, like something tells you he likes you but you can't exactly prove he does, you're seen with him more often, he talks to you more, but in the beginning that's about it really, but overtime he gets more handsy with you like Phinks but not as much, he would most definitely tease you when he's in a good mood, giving you nicknames and such, and of course, very protective over you.

Confessing & Relationship

Finding out they all like you! When they start to see one of the other become more affectionate towards you, shit starts to get real, a scenario where Feitan sees you and Shalnark playing a newly released game, the both of you are so happy, laughing and all, and Feitan is hiding somewhere and just stares at the both of you, the worst scenarios are running through his mind, are they dating? do they like him? he wants to do something about it but can't because for one troupe members can't fight and two, he sees how happy you are, how can he ruin that? Another scenario is the old fashioned switcheroo where you and Feitan are getting a little too handsy with one another, he's got his hand on your thigh and your hand on his shoulder, Shalnark is now in Feitan's shoes, bad scenarios running through his brain thinking the two of you have a thing for each other, a part of him wants to step in but he can't. It's kind of subtle at first until everything starts to build up, they can see each other's jealousy seeping through, let's say Phinks was the one to save you from an attacker and Feitan wasn't quick enough, a glare is shot at Phinks' way as he sees the way he's holding you and reassuring you, and he catches it, he's confused, what the hell is going on? Another scenario where the troupe is having fun or whatnot and you and Shalnark are laughing about something a little too hard, he spots both Phinks and Feitan seething in jealousy, he's also confused! Until it all hits the three of them; they all like you!

Them finding out..... So, when they finally sit and conversate about the rising tensions between them to solve it, they come to the conclusion that you are the reason why, how will they go about this? They all have a goal in mind; a monogamous relationship with you, they are all trying their absolute hardest not to start anything between them, they were all on good terms until this very incident, they had no idea what to do about this, their own friends are crushing on the same person they want, and the tensions can only grow from here, and beyond this point things can go either north (good) or south (bad) really quickly. From here on out, they challenge themselves to impress you so that one of them finally gets you, an unspoken rule, until they realize that you like all three of them, and things grow extra confusing, they're happy because "yay they like me!" but also mad because "grrr they like him back!!" So everyone involved is kinda like.............. "omg??"

Poly? So, because everything came out, they all like you and you like all of them back, they're stuck here wondering how this will work, a polygamous relationship isn't even a thought to them because they just want to have you, and it may be one of your biggest fantasies, you eventually let it out that you want all of them at the same time and because of their confusion you would have to explain to them, they argue that it's not going to work well, since for one, they are all territorial when it comes to you, Feitan is most definitely the worst one since he's never exactly felt this feeling before and it's most likely his first crush and potential relationship, and since you're pretty special to him he doesn't want to lose you to someone else, in all honesty he'd probably kidnap you and hide you away from Phinks and Shalnark if you weren't apart of the troupe, so you can be his forever, yayyy, we love yanderes!!!! Phinks is in the middle, while yes he wants you to himself he doesn't want to admit that he would want to at least give it a chance, Shalnark is pretty chill, the idea of him having you to himself is nice also, but a polygamous relationship would probably solve all this conflict between them.

They Agree, so The Relationship Starts Here! So they decided that just for you, they would all agree to date you, of course at first this doesn't sit right with them since they want you to be with one of them, but they're also like... shit, I mean we all technically got what we wanted so we might as well make the best of it!

Small Miscellaneous Things

When they don't receive enough attention. Despite you all agreeing on a polygamous relationship, they all still get jealous whenever one is getting more attention than the other, when Phinks isn't receiving enough attention he gets more agitated, prone to more outbursts and will even straight up pull you away from the other, when Shalnark isn't receiving more attention, he would tap your shoulder or find ways to annoy you like hugging you or getting in your face, when Feitan isn't receiving more attention he finds ways to get yours by breaking something like a glass cup so that you can at least say a few words to him even if they aren't exactly the most kind, or staring at you for an ungodly amount of time to the point where you can physically feel his eyes on you, or like Phinks, will pull you away from the other so that you can be with him more.

🔞 What sex is like! Sex isn't too different from the usual, you can't really have group sex with them often since shit gets competitive real fast, they will go above and beyond to make you cum the hardest and scream the loudest, but when one or two of them so happens to be away, Feitan will make marks on your body to be territorial, so show the other two or to other people outside that he was the one who made that mark there, and it's even worse because he puts them in places that aren't exactly the easiest to cover, either it be a bite mark or a scar that spells out his initials. Shalnark will mark hickeys on your neck or will have photos of you having his cum dripping on your face or you laying beside him just completely slutted out and send them to the other two just for giggles, Phinks won't do anything outrageous (he can't you'll fucking die) but will have you wear his clothes afterwards to let the other two know when they get back who fucked them out ;).

Things start to get better! Overtime they start to realize that the petty fights over who gets to spend more time with you are meaningless, and that they all love you and you all love them, it takes them a while for them to come to these terms, but in the end, it gets better for the future, and everyone loves each other, movie nights aren't filled with who's chest you get to lay on anymore, sex isn't "who gets to make them cum harder" more, you don't feel as if you're some type of prized possession, you're now treated with actual respect and love and consideration, of course there's fights here and there like any other normal couple, but life is good.... for them anyway.

You were murdered! If they ever come into your house to find it ransacked, their first priority is to see if you're alright, they find your body laying in your room, devoid of all life, shit starts to get real, they never rest to look for the one who did this to you, since Shalnark has cameras hidden away around the house, it doesn't take long to find out who did it from hacking and such, and once they find them, it takes so much to not just rip their head to shreds and feed it to wild animals, Feitan wants to give them the worst of all of his tortures, and afterwards they die by their phinks blowing their head clean off their shoulders or shit maybe shalnark will do it.

#hunter x hunter #trouble trio x reader #phinks magcub #shalnark ryusei #feitan portor #phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #feitan x reader #hxh

178 notes · View notes

daydream-cement · 10 months

Note

Hi sorry to bother you, I was wondering if you could do Gwendoline’s characters with a non binary s/o? Also unrelated but I love your work ❤️

Gwen’s Characters With A Non-Binary SO

Authors Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! @bri-sonat wrote for Brienne and Phasma and (of course) double-checked my work as well :))

Larissa Weems

She tries not to be too invasive, but Larissa has many questions about her partner’s identity and how she can support her partner

From her work with the students, she has some experience with using new pronouns and names. She will immediately adjust to her partner’s identity.

Larissa loves pet names and will double-check to make sure her pet names for her partner are validating and wanted.

She becomes very invested in helping her partner express themselves through their personal style and fashion. If it's wanted, she will use her abilities to help her partner test out different styles and outfits.

In order to help with dysphoria, Larissa will provide words of affirmation and small acts of service to soothe her partner in whatever way she can.

Larissa is a wonderful confidant so if her partner isn’t out, their identity is safe with her and she will be happy to alter the way she speaks about them depending on the setting.

She is very quick with compliments and she quickly learns to tailor them so they are genuine affirmations of her partner’s gender.

If she has any questions about how to help her non-binary students, Larissa is quick to sit down and talk with her partner to gain another perspective.

Larissa loves so intensely that her partner’s gender is secondary. She is happy to accommodate any changes to make them feel loved.

Miranda Hilmarson

She is so happy for her partner when they come out to her. She is so proud of them and feels so honored to be trusted with their identity.

She definitely does a TON of research about her partner’s identity as she is worried about seeming ignorant. Post-research she has just a few more questions to make sure she fully understands.

Miranda is not a great secret keeper but if her partner isn’t out yet, she will guard that secret with her whole being.

In fear of misgendering her partner, Miranda will practice her partner’s pronouns (or name) in private to make sure she never gets it wrong. If she were to get it wrong, she will apologize profusely and feel terrible.

(If her partner is out) All of Miranda’s friends will know her partner’s correct pronouns (and/or name) by the sheer amount in which she talks about her partner. She will brag about them and talk about them 24/7 at work.

Miranda loves seeing her partner in clothes so she is happy to offer up a sweatshirt or t-shirt for those dysphoric days.

Miranda will get a small non-binary pride flag to keep in her apartment to show her partner that “my apartment is a safe space for you.”

She is very supportive (if not completely ecstatic) of her partner to try out new haircuts or styles to better represent their identity. She wants to be there for all the trips to the hairdresser or to the store just so she can be there to support all of the decisions.

Miranda tries to understand her partner’s gender to the best of her ability so she can send them memes, posts, and TikToks that could be funny or relatable for her partner.

Brienne of Tarth

Considering there was no such thing as non-binary (or any form of labels, to be fair) back in Brienne’s time, it would be referred to as “genderless” by both Brienne and her partner.

When Brienne’s significant other first explained it to her and how they felt about their identity, she was a little confused but eventually understood after some questions and answers.

She’s very respectful about what she refers to her partner as and asks them what would be okay and what would not be in terms of “gendered” terms. Eventually landing in “my partner,” and “my romantic companion.”

If her partner wants to alter their name and have Brienne call them something else in private, she would be more than supportive and try her best to adjust as fast as possible. If she slips in the first few days, she feels incredibly guilty and apologizes profusely.

If her significant other wishes to keep the new name and identity to themselves and Brienne only, she’d respect her partner’s wishes but every time someone refers to her partner by their old name or calls them a girl, she has the most challenging time holding her tongue - wanting to correct them, but she manages to keep quiet. Her respect and loyalty to her love are stronger than anything else.

When/if her partner voices a discomfort or dysphoria with their body and their feminine traits, she will observe and take notes on what she can do to help on the rougher days.

She always lets her partner wear her clothes that are far too large for them, just to offer some more affirming clothing than the ones that are tailored to their body and often show their curves.

She will offer to cut their hair if they want to go shorter or just maintain the length they currently have if it’s already short.

She will try her best to offer any type of euphoric or affirming moment on any day, but especially the harder ones.

Every single day will she tell them how much she loves them and how much they mean to her, and how perfect they are just the way they are.

Captain Phasma

When her partner explains it to her, she doesn’t say more than: “Good for you.”

Even if her initial reaction was very careless and crass, she does take it in and adjusts slightly in the way she thinks about them.

She will not be all lovey-dovey or gentle about it all, but she will be somewhat supportive, in her own Phasma way.

If someone misgenders her partner in her proximity, she will aggressively correct them if their partner has shared their identity with them that is. If they have not, she will not say anything, against her own invasive urges.

If her significant other wants her to call them something else, she will. It’s going to take a couple of days and she will slip, but she will eventually lock it in. Whenever she does slip up when talking to her partner, she will correct herself and move on. They won’t get an apology out of Phasma, but she wants her partner to know that she was aware of her slip-up in some way.

If her partner is out, she will correct someone using their old name in her usual stern way, and if she slips when talking about them to someone else, (which she never will cause when she talks about them to someone else she uses their title and last name, but on the off-chance that she uses their title and first name) she will quickly correct herself and tell the other person that, “If I hear you calling them the name I accidentally used, I am going to rip your tongue out so you can never call anyone anything ever again.”

And for the more dysphoric days, she doesn’t quite know what to do. Her initial attempts don’t really work (like saying, “You’re hot.”) so she disinterestedly asks what she can do to help or “whatever.”

She ends up throwing her large shirts her partner’s way when they voice their thoughts on how they are feeling. She also silently drags them to the hairdresser if her partner so wishes for an affirming haircut.

She’s supportive in her own aggressive way.

Lucifer Morningstar

Lucifer just gets it.

They try not to use too much of their own experience to anticipate their partner’s wants and needs, so they will have a few questions to be as responsive as possible.

Even with their busy schedule ruling hells, they will happily sit and listen to their partner talk about their experience or challenges. There is no mercy for those who interrupt your time together.

They would encourage their partner to be open and proud of their new identity but are supportive of their partner’s wish to not come out if they so choose - either way, Lucifer will use the correct pronouns (and/or name).

Due to Lucifer’s own non-binary identity, Hell is a place that quickly accepts changes in an individual's orientation or identity. On the odd chance that someone is not accepting of Lucifer’s partner, that daemon or being will be turned into ash with the flick of Lucifer’s wrist.

They are delighted in helping their partner alter their appearance to feel more affirmed and will often tell their partner, “You have no need to want for anything. Whatever your heart desires, I will make it so.”

They love to pull their partner into their lap and wrap them up in their arms when their partner is feeling more dysphoric. They will whisper sweet affirmations for a short while before asking if they could interest their partner in a walk through the gardens.

Jane Murdstone

She doesn’t quite understand at first, only responding with “I see. Thank you for telling me.” Jane is quick to bring up the subject again later that evening or the next day as she truly had no clue what ‘non-binary’ or ‘genderless’ meant.

It may take her a few explanations to understand fully, but she is never unaccepting or rude about her partner’s wishes. She doesn’t make a very big deal of the change and will often ask a single question and answer with an “Mhmm. Thank you.” as she internally sorts through the new information.

The Victorian era was not an accepting one so her partner’s gender will most likely be kept private along with their relationship with Jane.

Jane wants to verbally eviscerate anyone who misgenders her partner, but chooses to silently seethe instead to avoid outing her partner in any way.

She is very deliberate with her words and will be determined to use the correct pronouns (and/or name) whenever she has the opportunity.

She most definitely surprises her partner with trousers and loose-fitting shirts to wear around their rooms.

She is quick to utilize compliments that she finds to be more genderless, such as, “You are looking quite attractive today, sweeting.”

Her partner will often hear her cursing ‘the latest fashion trends’ and how they are ‘quite repressive and reprehensible’ as the fashion of the day was designed to accentuate women’s curves.

Jane loves to read her partner poetry or novels and will often change the pronouns of the love interest just for them.

Taglist: @charymobile, @ihavenoclue2008, @opheliauniverse, @alex-nyx, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @scream-queenlover, @shyladyfan, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @brienneswife, @dumbasslesbi, @kay-liah-scope, @kimiinou, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod

172 notes · View notes

vintage-bentley · 8 months

Note

How in the fuck are you going to be anti trans and a Good Omens fan as if both the book and the show don’t explicitly establish the existence of several nonbinary characters and both Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are genderless beings

Not to mention both David and Michael’s staunch support of the LGBT (really emphasizing the T here, since you love to drop it) community as a whole, and David literally has a trans child

Part of me is even asking this in good faith because how do you see a series that is so incredibly queer and like it considering how much you shit-talk trans people on your lackluster TERF blog

There’s many reasons, actually! I’ll explain them in good faith, because I think that people who ask questions like this don’t understand the perspective of so-called “terfs” and assume we think like you do.

Firstly, I’m a feminist, so I’m used to media not aligning with my politics. I expect it, actually. Down to very simple things, like knowing I’m never going to go into a show and see a woman just existing with body hair like men do in shows all the time. But I’m comfortable and confident enough in my beliefs that I can consume media that doesn’t align with them. This extends to my feelings regarding gender. A they/them character doesn’t make my head explode, it’s just the same for me as seeing a Christian character (like Ella from Netlix’s Lucifer) or a female character who’s pro-beauty culture (like Elinor from First Kill). It’s a representation of a belief I don’t agree with and personally don’t believe in, that’s all.

Secondly, Good Omens is set in a made up universe with fantasy themes. I can easily get behind the idea that the true forms of angels and demons are genderless, because that makes sense to me in the same way God being genderless makes sense to me. This doesn’t have to carry over to me believing that humans can be genderless (I don’t believe in the concept of internal gender identity, because I don’t believe in souls. So I guess the better way to put this is that I don’t believe humans can be sexless unless we’re using gender and sex as synonyms). In the same way that it makes sense to me that angels and demons have souls that are put into bodies issued to them…but I don’t have to believe that also applies to humans. Or how it makes sense to me that Aziraphale and Crowley could survive without food, water, and sleep…but I don’t have to believe that also applies to humans. Etc. etc.

Basically, just because something is in a fantasy show, doesn’t mean I have to believe it’s real.

Thirdly, what the actors do in their own lives is none of my business. I don’t agree with supporting the TQ+ especially in relation to LGB (considering they’ve made it a primary goal to harass lesbians into pretending we can like penis, and to take every chance they get to express their hatred for homosexuality. I love to drop the T because they dropped me and my fellow homosexuals years ago). If two straight male actors want to do that, whatever. I also don’t agree with Sheen having a baby with a woman his daughter’s age, but that hasn’t stopped me from watching the show or appreciating his talent.

This all takes me back to what I said about believing you don’t truly understand the perspective of those you call “terfs”. Just because you might not be able to comprehend watching and enjoying something that doesn’t perfectly align with your worldview, doesn’t mean others feel the same. For example, many radical and rad-leaning feminists enjoyed the Barbie movie, despite it not being radical feminist. We’re capable of watching and enjoying things we don’t agree with, and of having discussions about why we don’t agree with it.

A much simpler answer to your question would be: I’ve always loved angels and demons and all things supernatural. I’ve always loved old cars. I love Queen. Religious/moral commentary and critique interest me. I love lighthearted comedies. I’m gay and starved for representation of healthy gay relationships. I love gay star-crossed lovers stories (go watch First Kill). Naturally, I’m going to love Good Omens, even if it doesn’t perfectly align with my worldview.

#asks #anon #it’s not even just the stuff regarding gender I don’t agree with!#I have a HUGE issue with the existence of Ms Sandwich and her ‘stable’ of ‘girls’#brothels are insanely inhumane and a breeding ground for human trafficking. And women are human—not property to sell #tbh I take bigger issue with that aspect than any of the gender stuff #there’s also the whole thing with God being a woman/having the voice of a woman…#…despite there being no attempt at reimagining what the world would be like had it been made by a female god instead of a male one #(example: maybe Adam would’ve come from Eve’s rib. Maybe Adam would’ve been responsible for the Original Sin)#instead Neil keeps all the patriarchal religion stuff in and pats himself on the back for casting a woman as God #what I’m trying to say is that yeah. I have disagreements with the show. so what.#it’s still a good show even if it’s not a radical feminist/rad-leaning show

124 notes · View notes

queerpossumtrenchcoat · 16 days

Text

Let's talk gender expression, awful haircuts and realisation of who I am! I came out as gender fluid approximately around the age of the third picture above- and I got an awful haircut to match it, but at the time I felt like THE gender vibe; I was 13, or so, and didn't realise I looked like I'd had a fistfight with a weed whacker. It was a stepping stone however, for me to discover who I was; after this time I started to experiment with my look, name and pronouns, leaning more towards he/they and slowly changing my name from Jaimee to Jai and or James- small steps, I know, but crucial ones in me realising my dead name no longer really fit me as a person. James was a family name after all. Finding myself wasn't always glamorous, the look wasn't always particularly handsome or pretty, it was colour the tips of my hair with sharpie markers and conditioner until my hair had a distinctly petrol-and-macadamia type stench or cutting it with a cheap, disposable razor which ended up giving me hair reminiscent of the early 2000s emo scene (which I totally was, even if I only saw 6 years of the 'early 2000s!'). I would hack off chunks, flatten my chest with cheap Duct Tape and wear boxers I stole from my dad in order to feel some semblance of who I was, using makeup to poorly build cheek bones and eyebrows so I could look like my hero at the time, Brendon Urie (God, that aged poorly..) In time I got creative, I learned that my parents wouldn't let me get a 'real boy's haircut' so I'd have to improvise; here came the next 6 months of beanie hats and ponytails pulled over to create a 'boy fringe' which, in retrospect, was giving more Justin Beiber than Emo Quartet, but that all chained when I turned 16 and... Got to dye my hair for the first time!! It was the greatest experience for my gender to date!! My mother bought me midnight blue hairdye for my 16th birthday and helped me dye it; I looked in the mirror at my fairly short ish, dark blue hair and I saw it. I saw him, stood staring back at me with tears in his eyes. I saw ME. I told my girlfriend, at the time anyway, straight away and she accepted me with open arms- I think she was expecting the genderfluid-to-trans masc timeline, which funnily enough he followed in 2022 during lockdown. Lockdown dug its claws into my gender and expression quite deeply; while at home with my mother, father and two very young siblings I came to experiment with my gender a lot more, dressing in more masculine clothes and cutting my hair off for 'sake of ease', or that's what I told my parents anyway- they believed it too, surprisingly. I went through college having to somewhat pretend I was just a feminine man, I was exhausted and on the brink of suicide, as most people my age at the time were, and went by Eden because it seemed more palatable to the others around me- didnt stop me being picked on, but it wasn't by students... It was my own teacher! Shout out to Miss Dunsby! Then I dropped out of college. I picked up a shitty little cafe job as a barista and linecook, cooking meals, making coffees, pretending I gave half a shit about a joke I'd heard over and over again; I dyed my hair neon green and used my pay checks to get it cut SHORT short for the first time- I looked hella fine, in my opinion, but I was also starting to realise something.. Maybe I had been right the first time, because I didn't feel like a man all the time. Back to the drawing board... One shaved head and a job at a gay bar later, I started using the art of drag, performing as a female persona, to realise that I was Masc-Agender, like a boyish presenting genderless person. Easy enough, I suppose. I started wearing makeup, being myself and wearing whatever I damn pleased, uncaring of social cues and rules, I was me. I was happy. I AM happy. If there is anything you can take away from this, once you find the part of yourself you can express your feelings, thoughts and emotions with, go wild!! I did and it made realising my truth so much easier!

25 notes · View notes

poguesarerogues · 1 year

Text

Smitten Art piece

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe X genderless reader

Word Count: 894

Warnings: obsessive behavior, slight yandere-like themes

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lecture was long and boring. He had no business in judging anyone who chose to block out the monotonous ramblings of the instructor as they went on and on about one particular plant whose poison could be used to put people in a coma. Even he had chosen to direct his attention to something more worth his while. A drawing. He was a master of drawing… or at least, that’s what everyone made it seem like who knew of his talent. He’s constantly drawing. Drawing, drawing, and drawing some more. It’s almost as if he had been born with a pencil and paint brush in his hands. Being a student of Nevermore only served to project the ‘tortured artist’ stereotype onto him even further than it would elsewhere. He loved to draw and paint. It takes his mind off of everything and everyone going on around him. All the problems of the world and in his life disappear when he picks up a pen and lets the ink bleed into the paper before his eyes.

Recently there has been one thing in particular that he has enjoyed drawing. One person actually. He’s plagued with images of this being. His mind is unable to think of anything else until an entire paper or canvas is covered, corner to corner, with the object of his recent infatuation. You!

Only Wednesday is aware of just how far down the rabbit hole he has fallen in regard to thinking about you. His obsession has reached the point that many drawing pads have been filled, front to back, with images of your face or points in time where he has captured your beauty as you go about doing whatever it is that you choose to do during your time at Nevermore or when you’re in Jericho. There are more drawings and painting than he, nor anyone else, would ever wish to count.

Xavier denies that he’s way too far in over his head with sealing your beauty into an immortalized form with his artwork but, considering it has only been three weeks since you arrived to campus and he has gone this far already without even officially meeting you, he doesn’t find it any bit surprising to know that if anyone else were to find out about this he’d likely be penalized with a restraining order.

And so he drawing silently, his eyes flitting in your direction oh so frequently. He wants to capture every detail perfectly without getting caught. He can’t make it obvious. So he makes his glances quick and discrete.

He sits one aisle behind you today. How unfortunate it is that someone had chosen to take your seat for that lecture day without any particular reason. At least his sits on the opposite end of the classroom though so that he can still capture the beauty of your side profile from behind. He works quickly to get every detail of your face and body onto the paper. The time limit of the lecture inching closer to bringing his project to an end with each passing second. Each second feeling far less than that to the stressed artist. Of course, he knows that he could still finish the piece even after the bell has rung but there’s something about beginning and finishing within such a limited timeframe that makes him feel accomplished when he’s capable of pulling the quest off.

If only each lecture that he had with you could be longer!

As he finalized the details of your uniform the dreaded bell rings. He has no choice but to quickly close up his sketch book before any students can see. Some of them are already headed out the door while others struggle to get out of their seats as they shove their notebooks and other belongings into backpacks or wrestle them into a position between their arms and ribcages to carry them out the door. When he looks your way Xavier sees that you are beginning to head out of class. He’s always astonished with how quickly you can get around despite how crowded areas of nevermore can get during times like this. Once his sketch book is between his arms, he briskly begins to exit the classroom. He hopes to see your evading figure for just a second before the two of you must separate for the rest of the day. Screw whoever made up your schedule! He wishes he had more classes with you.

Unfortunately, Xavier finds no luck in seeing you before he reaches the hall that leads to his next class. With a sigh of discontent, he pauses momentarily in the hallway, looking down the direction that he knows you’ve gone. If only he could follow.

With a quick huff he resumes his journey to his next class.

He may not have anymore classes with you for the day but he knows that you’ll be going to the fair tonight. He’s planned it for so long. Tonight he’ll finally introduce himself and you’ll be smitten with him just like he is with you. If not, Wednesday will help him with his endeavors to make you interested in the loner elitist boy at school.

One way or another, you two will meet, and Xavier will make damn sure that you become just as infatuated with him as he is with you.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier wednesday #yandere xavier thorpe #dark xavier thorpe #dark fic #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe x y/n #wednesday series #xavier thorpe x you #dark!xavier thorpe #yandere #dark!xavier

304 notes · View notes

duckapus · 8 months

Text

Horror Comedy AU where Ash Ketchum is an eldritch abomination spawned from an Unfathomable Void, but is still his usual self.

Basically, Delia was an Interpol Agent back in the day with luck just as strange as Ash's, and on her Last Job she got captured by a doomsday cult that was trying to summon a dark god equal to Arceus Itself and bring about the apocalypse. This doesn't work out, both because Delia's Aura awakens and messes with the ritual (I always prefer to think that Ash's weird ambiguous connection to Sir Aaron comes his mom's side even if in most universes she doesn't have a usable amount of Aura), and because the Void God they're trying to awaken helped Arceus create the world in the first place (and the two of Them kind of have a thing going on) so It wouldn't have helped them destroy it even if the ritual had worked.

Instead they only get a "small" fragment of Void Stuff that mixes with some of Delia's Aura to become a living mass of Darkness covered in writhing tendrils and glowing blue eyes that absorbs all the cultists, knocks out every Pokemon in the room, frees Delia, and shrinks down into the form of a human baby. Delia, being a Ketchum and a major character in a crack fic, promptly decides "my baby now" (to be fair she's not exactly wrong?) and leaves Interpol to reopen her late grandmother's old diner in Palette Town. She was planning to do that anyway even before ending up with a monster baby so it works out I guess.

Meanwhile, Giratina actually noticed the massive spike of Void that was Ash's birth and since the whole issue got resolved so quickly it takes a couple months for her to find where her new half sibling ended up (you read that right. She's the god of symmetry, Light and Dark are included in that, so Arceus and Void God both created her. Also I'm using she/her for Giratina because immortal genderless embodiments of universal concepts can use whatever pronouns they want), and when she does she offers to help him learn how to use his void powers...well, mostly. See, in this version of the Pokemon Universe not all Legendary Pokemon are gods and there are gods who aren't Legendaries, and the ones that are both tend to lean towards one or the other, so Giratina who's more Pokemon-leaning and only half-void functions very differently from Ash who isn't Pokemon at all and almost fully void, so there's some things she just can't help with.

Still, the fact that she's offering to help at all is a big relief for Delia who is doing great so far but would probably be in over her head raising what's essentially a Horror Movie Monster on her own, so Giratina makes semi-regular visits over the years both to help with powers and just to bond with her new little brother (and new mom because there is no way Delia Ketchum doesn't win her over). Also, absolutely no attempt is made to hide Ash's true nature both because I find it funny and because the Pokemon World is already weird enough that Palette Town having a baby demon just living there barely registers as noteworthy.

As far as Ash's childhood goes, it mostly follows the same beats as canon, though there are obviously some weird things that pop up. For one thing, one of his powers is that he can understand any language, including Pokemon. And, because they're sensitive to this sort of thing Pokemon can usually tell that he isn't human even without him using his more obvious powers, and that makes most wild Pokemon more receptive to him than usual.

Except birds. Birds really don't like him for some reason.

Also he turns out to have healing powers, which he finds out during that scene with Serena. Basically, he makes the cloth he ties her injury with out of some of the Void Stuff that makes up his true form, and by the time they get to Professor Oak both the cloth and the injury are gone. There are, however, side-effects, which Serena only finds out about after she moves to Kalos and Ash only finds out about years later when he saves Charmander. (I'll get to that later)

On to the first day of his Journey, things only go slightly more smoothly thanks to Ash and Pikachu being able to communicate properly, and they still get chased by every Spearow on Route 1 because all of them are trying to "Destroy the Void Spawn!" This means they still fall off the waterfall and get fished up by Misty, who gets the Full Horror Experience because after All That Shit Ash is worn out which makes him kind of Melty. And, well, Pikachu is injured, the Spearow are still coming, he can't maintain a coherent enough form to keep going on his own, and this is Season 1 Ash who can be kind of an impulsive jerk sometimes at what would normally be the bike stealing scene, so he kind of...possesses Misty and Books It.

And since this isn't a power he's ever used before and he's using it in a high-stress situation while injured, his control isn't the best, so she catches a glimpse of the Unknowable Truths of the Void, and that combined with her being there for the Biggest Thundershock Ever makes her a little...fanatical about Ash's whole Eldritch God Thing. They're still friends first and foremost and still develop something similar to their usual dynamic but the fanaticism is there, especially at the beginning. At least she's not worried about the bike this time?

Also when Ho-oh shows up he kind of visibly stumbles in midair because he was not expecting the Chosen One to be that! This is why we don't let the local Mew be the only one doing check-ins.

Anyway, Brock and Team Rocket are still their usual selves, apart from Team Rocket deciding to do research into how to fight demons so they'll actually stand a chance at stealing Pikachu so now they've got a Nacli (because salt) and a bit of an Exorcist Schtick going on.

The Charmander Incident goes a bit differently, because they just barely don't make it in time and Ash basically tells the universe NO and brings him back, which is how he finds out that his healing powers have side-effects because this time those effects are immediate. When Charmander's tail flame relights it's somehow black, he has what seems to be a new Ability that makes all his Fire-Type moves also do Ghost-Type damage, and as time goes on his scales darken until he has Shiny Charizard's color scheme. This goes further when he evolves, because he has some clear differences from a normal Charmeleon beyond just his colors, and he seems to now actually be part Ghost.

I also had some ideas for later on, like May being full of Ghosts because she's easy to get into but extremely hard to get out of or control, and Dawn being Akari who ended up as a Hisuian Zoroark and got back to the present the long way, but for now this is what I've got.

84 notes · View notes

changingplumbob · 28 days

Text

York Household: Chapter 9, Part 11

In this final part my evil one is now Artemisia, Deanna suffers through a bug and we get some new family photos!

The Yorks are Italian so if you see them using words that don't look like English it's Italian, or what google assures me is Italian. Caro/Cara: Dear Buongiorno: Good morning Piccolo: Little one Tesoro: Treasure Nonno: Grandfather Nonna: Grandmother Si: Yes Grazie: Thank you Per Favore: Please Buon Compleanno: Happy Birthday

Of course if Kelly needed a wardrobe refresh there was only one sim who would do, older sister Devin! As well as being obsessed with her image she’s also getting pretty wealthy. Free shopping spree anyone? Back in Tartosa Kelly and Devin get a commemorative selfie.

Kelly: Grazie for the shop Devin and... grazie for finding the breastforms as well

Devin: Nessun problema, my director Norah knows where all the trans friendly stuff is. I’m just glad one of my sisters may like shopping. I know we may have gone overboard on the make up…. But the grey highlights your eyes

Kelly: It’s nice. When I go to school or wherever I want sims to know I’m a girl you know?

Devin: I can only imagine cara

Kelly: Well as an actress your imagination must be pretty good

Devin: *mock shock* A compliment? For little old me?

Kelly: Shut up. It’s never happening again

Devin: Forget the Starlight Accolade, I have now reached the pinnacle of my career. Come, let’s go find pa and he can tell you his next plan

Aaron: I didn’t see it coming. She never was interested in dresses or skirts or whatever. But I suppose Deanna wasn’t either. How you reacted to Onyx made me think a lot about how I’d react so I suppose I have you to thank for not having a bad reaction

Bob who is much younger than Aaron can’t quite believe that he’s had a positive effect on someone so he just smiles and nods.

Kelly: I’m here

Devin: She means… *sing song voice* we’re here!

Kelly: Do you have to announce yourself everywhere

Devin: It’s called main character energy sis. Besides, everytime I enter a room my theme music plays

Kelly: In your head and your head only

Devin: Oh my gosh can you not be a toad face for five seconds

Aaron: *sighs* As you can see Bob the change has not resulted in less bickering

Devin: Pa, we’re Italians. If we don’t be passionate about something daily, somewhere out there our Italian cred pass gets revoked

Kelly: So why is Fergus’ dad here?

Aaron: Because he’s not just Fergus’ dad. He’s Onyx’s dad to

Devin: And I’m here because I’m brilliant at everything, but also baby names

Kelly: You called your kid Rilian Villareal. Had you written that down in full and seen how weird it looks before you chose it

(the watcher chose "Rilian" independently. She did not think about the pairing with "Villareal" and how the whole thing just looks like a bunch of l's and i's with a couple of r's for good measure)

Devin: *scoffs* Let’s just get the brainstorm underway

Kelly: Brainstorm?

Aaron: I thought Fergus and Onyx could come over after school and help us think of names to shortlist. Unless you’ve already picked one?

Kelly: No I hadn’t… grazie pa. But I still get to choose right?

Aaron: 100%. Just not a swear word

Onyx: I don’t know, I was just thinking of names that were genderless and Onyx came to me like the watcher put it in my head or something

Devin: We should pick something Italian!

Bob: There are lots of food choices. Someone’s kid is called Apple

Fergus: Pick a voidcritter name, they’re cool

With lots of phone googling, laughing, and discussion the group arrive at a small list of names Kelly is happy to choose from. She goes into her room to ponder and settles on her favourite, Artemisia!

Deanna didn’t go to classes today; she was sick all day and chose to finish her coursework between naps.

Artemisia: This seat taken

Deanna: Aren’t you worried I’ll infect you with my germs

Artemisia: Suits me. Let me be the carrier of contagion and those kids I only slightly hurt can suffer without it getting blamed on me

Deanna: Kelly I’m trying to work here

Artemisia: It’s Artemisia

Deanna: Ahto -who – what?

Deanna: Sorry goblin, you’ll have to write that down for me to follow- no, not on my textbook!

Kelly: Too late

Deanna: So do you want to be called the whole mouthful? Artemisia

Artemisia: If you're too dumb to say the whole thing then say Emi or Emisia. But why not make other people suffer trying to say my name

Deanna: Well that’s on brand for you

In the kitchen Aaron has filled Calista in on the days progress and they’re doing their best to practice the new name.

Calista: Artemisia… My daughter is Artemisia… My youngest girl is Artemisia… Have you seen Atemisia…

Aaron: Bob suggested apple

Calista: Of course he did, man loves his food. Thank you for taking the day to be with her. Ti amo

Aaron: The dyslexia is something we need to support her- Artemisia with as well

Calista: *sighs* We would have bought our dream house right before all these expenses came up. I hope we can afford all she needs

Aaron: We can tap into the retirement fund

Calista: And what about when they make you retire

Aaron: I’m a hard worker, I think I’d be allowed to stay on past 65 if I wanted to. We’ve still got 7 or 8 years of work to save up with

Artemisia: Look at that, I did my homework faster than you, Artemisia for the win!

Deanna: You also had less of it

Artemisia: Do you know what anemia is?

Deanna: Why?

Artemisia: You do science

Deanna: Physics is not the same as biology dummy

Artemisia: I got an email that my blood tests came back saying I have it, whatever it is. I better tell ma and pa

Deanna enjoys the silence as Artemisia leaves for the main house. It’s hard enough focusing normally but when sick it’s even more difficult. She’s just gotten back into the rhythm of the work when-

Artemisia: Means low iron apparently

Deanna: Ke- Artemisia! Can’t you go eat your food elsewhere? I’m trying to focus

Artemisia: Oh, am I a distraction for you? So sad. I think I might have to cry about that

Eventually Artemisia finishes and leaves, also leaving her plate for anyone else to take care of.

In the middle of the night Artemisia gets woken up by terrible news, puberty is arriving via facial hair!

Artemisia: Don’t look at me mantis, it’s awful

Mantis: *sits silently*

Artemisia: Oh I’ve just got to get rid of it

She leaps from her bed and heads to the spare bathroom where she knows Aaron leaves some razors in case of guests needs. After watching a few youtube videos she does her best to remove the offending hair. The whole time she’s telling herself, three more years. Just three more years then we can take stuff to make this stop. Three more, I can survive that.

While this is happening Deanna is also having an awful night. With her term paper submitted she naps until she can take more painkillers. Unfortunately they seem to be making her woozy so she decides to skip a dose at her 2am dinner time. She manages to get back to sleep but in the morning she’s still feeling lightheaded. Another nap after breakfast clears up her illness and she’s awake for her exams. She averages a B+ this term, pretty good considering all the stress she’s been through.

Before work Calista and Aaron fit in some nectar creation, two more normal bottles of grape nectar tucked away to age. Artemisia may have flunked her exams today but she’s still riding high from the confidence of changing her name to suit her, so she’s unbothered. When everyone is home the family is invited around so we can get some photos of Artemisia looking like herself with her family. Joey is of course trying to show off despite being skinny… Zio Joey’s got this!

Alfred and Rilian eat in their high chairs. Surprising nobody, picky eater Rilian decides he doesn’t want to finish his meal actually. Instead he babbles with his twin. The others happily chat until it gets past the twins bedtime. Nonno Aaron is only to happy to usher the toddlers home before they start throwing tantrums.

Tamika: You haven’t seen me all rotation

Deanna: I’m sorry Mika, I got overwhelmed with everything

Tamika: Are you better now

Deanna: I think so. I mean I miss having Paris around but... I'm past the sad longing phase

Tamika: Good! Then we can start visiting the university nightclubs looking for guys and gals

Deanna: I don’t know if nightclubs are my thing

Tamika: That’s okay. We’ll check out the campus’ social pages, there’s bound to be some singles events, we’ll be each other’s wing woman

Deanna: Deal. Just… maybe keep the cute blondes to yourself for a while

And we finish this York chapter! Deanna may be single but she’s not falling apart, with my sim days to years maths it has been a year since she broke up with Paris. Artemisia is dreaming about making everyone at school embarrassed trying to say her name. Aaron and Calista haven’t gotten any promotions but are chipping away at the charisma skill. They do have years left to reach the top yet.

Previous ... Next (Chopra)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0901 #KellyYork #ArtemisiaYork #DevinVillareal #AaronYork #BobPancakes

22 notes · View notes

wreckingtickles · 5 months

Text

Midoriya & Mx Pastry (NSFW)

In which being a cinnamon roll backfires.

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

The Auction Masterlist

Words: 5,991

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

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

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

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

SCHWING!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-hahahe HAHA hahahaheheheheeh hahahaahahaha!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He felt even more vulnerable than before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“AH!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It didn’t take long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And enjoy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

35 notes · View notes