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miclipse · 7 months ago

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IM SCREAMING ur new raf fic with him being a literal fish WAS SO DANG CUTE ugh towards the end where he finally starts to warm up to her i wish he could give her a hug but he is technically a fish so KDKDKD

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ a fish's embrace.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: how do fishes give hugs? well, this is how rafayel does it.

word count: 1.8k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally), reader is a princess, slight angst/comfort, fluff, slight mentions of death.

note: hear me out anon... you kept me up at night with this. read this first for context!! comments appreciated <3

“hi fifi, how’s your day?”

the familiar sight of you lowering yourself to sit on the chair and peering into his fishtank caught rafayel’s attention.

rafayel swam out of the coral he usually hid himself in, a trail of bubbles following behind him as his tail flapped left and right.

well, there was only so much rafayel could do everyday in this fishtank. some include performing his everyday underwater stretches and somersaults, as well as gobble up the pellets you would pour into his tank during meal times.

although rafayel does not mind being a domestic pet to a princess, he was a social fish— or what humans would call an extrovert. and isolating him in a fishtank with no other companions really had a toll on his mental health (yes, fishes have them too).

well, he had you. but conversations with you were one-sided. he tried communicating with you verbally, hoping you possessed some sort of special power that allowed you to speak to animals like those fairytales he would read about when he was still a small fry. but to no avail.

all you understood from him was glub glub glub and a couple of bubbles escaping through his mouth.

some fish could easily live in solitude, but rafayel was not one of them. he loved mingling and talking to other fellow fishes. he may not be fond of socializing all the time, but having a fellow fish to talk to occasionally would be nice.

it had been a while since he last had a proper two-way conversation with a fellow fish. those nights where he would be laughing and joking around with his friends was now replaced with being trapped in an enclosure and listening to you complain about royal affairs he doubted he was even supposed to be aware about.

rafayel learnt from you that the problems humans face was a million times more than the problems fishes like him face. his only concern back when he was still in the ocean was whether he would be a shark’s snack.

“do you ever feel lonely in here?” your sad sigh directed rafayel’s attention back to you. your hair was still wet from your recent shower, making it stick to your neck and leave a damp patch on the nightgown you currently had on. you rested your chin on the palm of your hand, staring into rafayel’s aquatic terrarium with a guilty expression.

rafayel responded with a glub and a couple bubbles coming out of his mouth.

“i was thinking of returning you back to your actual home,”

…wait, what did you just say?

suddenly, rafayel was filled with a sense of dread, his mind running a hundred miles per minute. you were planning to abandon him just like that? it had only been approximately two months (almost coming to three).

he was finally able to convince himself that you were far from those spoiled brats he had heard stories about back when he was a baby fish living in the ocean. was that kind nature of yours nothing but a facade? he thought the two of you were close enough to be honest with each other.

how could you be so cruel to make him develop such a strong sense of attachment and reliability towards you, only for you to want to throw him back into the ocean where you had initially found him?

just when rafayel was contemplating about dramatically leaping out from the top of the tank and perishing right then and there on your study table filled with confidential documents, you spoke again.

“but i don't want to be lonely again.” you whispered, now slumping over your desk with your arm as a cushion for your head. your index finger was absentmindedly tracing shapes and letters against the surface of rafayel's tank.

rafayel stayed still, blinking at you behind the glass and impatiently urging you to continue with what you were implying.

sometimes, he hated it whenever you talked in a way that left so much suspense in the air.

seriously, couldn't you just treat him like an inanimate object and just blurt out whatever that was on your mind? you were acting as if you were waiting for his response, and it made him feel annoyed to a certain extent.

it wasn't like you could understand him even if he were to respond to you anyways. all you could hear was glub glub glub.

“you're the only one that i can confide in. if you're gone, i don't know what to do anymore.”

you sounded… pitiful.

everyone would have thought being a princess was full of a life of privileges, fun and riches. but no one ever saw the harsh reality beneath the beautiful facade of your life.

rafayel wasn't sure if this was the life of every princess to exist, but if it really was the case, then every princess definitely led a miserable life.

the only difference between you and other princesses was that not all of them necessarily had a pet fish that they could turn to during times like this.

“you probably think i'm selfish, huh?” you mumbled to rafayel with a small smile, a faint chuckle escaping your lips. “holding you hostage in my tank just so i have someone to talk to.”

you've perfectly read rafayel's mind, the only flaw was that your mind reading seemed to have a two month delay.

two months ago, if you were to say the same exact words as you did just a few seconds ago, rafayel would have agreed with you in a heartbeat.

but things were different now. much, much different.

rafayel was a social fish. he missed being able to talk and have people (or fishes) actually understand what he was saying. he missed spending his nights keeping his fellow fish companions awake as they all told each other stories of what they've encountered while swimming around in the oceans during the day.

but if given the opportunity to choose between a life of solitude in your bedroom and swimming around aimlessly in the oceans, he would choose this life.

rafayel would choose you over and over again in a hundred lifetimes.

occasionally during the day when you were away for your royal duties, rafayel would think about this alot (not that he had anything else to do in here).

he had come to realise that when he were to eventually die one day, he'd much rather die here in this fishtank as compared to dying in the vast abyss of the ocean, where he wouldn't even know what was to happen to his carcass after his heart stopped beating. the most realistic scenario was that he would be eaten up by a shark or another hungry fish in the waters, but even just the thought of that sent shivers down the fish’s spine.

sure, rafayel had fish friends out there in the ocean, but who was to say that they hadn't already been devoured by other sea creatures?

a life out in the wild was always accompanied by danger, and rafayel was at an even greater disadvantage with his size as compared to the other animals living alongside him in the waters.

at least if he died here, he knew he would be remembered by you. he hated to think that he could no longer comfort and be there for you the day you would cry and weep over his passing, but he knew that he would forever live on in your heart at the very least.

the two of you were just a pair of lonely souls trying to heal each other despite your difficulties communicating to each other. rafayel was here for you to vent your frustrations of life as a princess, and you would be here to keep rafayel safe and remembered.

with you, rafayel had an identity. he was no longer a lost and stray fish swimming around in the ocean, worrying constantly of when he would be gobbled up.

he was your biggest treasure, your beloved fifi.

with him, you could put down the invisible crown along with the shackles of your status. you weren’t a princess, you weren’t the girl getting lectured and scolded by your parents for your misconduct. you were just an ordinary girl who absolutely adored her pet fish and cuddled with her plushies.

perhaps the two of you did have some similarities.

despite the many differences the two of you had, it was the small similarities you two shared that made your bond with each other so strong even with the lack of verbal communication.

that's right. the bond between you and rafayel was so strong that you both didn't even need verbal communication to come to a mutual understanding.

“i love you, fifi.”

hearing your declaration of love made rafayel feel all fuzzy inside today. perhaps it was because of how vulnerable the conversation (or monologue) was tonight, but he felt extra affectionate towards you today.

you slowly dipped the pad of your index finger into the tank, putting into careful consideration not to frighten rafayel away with any sudden movements.

rafayel tilted his head up to look at your index finger slowly sinking into the tank. you never moved your index finger towards him, you always left your finger in the middle of the tank to wait for him to approach you if he felt like it.

rafayel greatly respected that about you.

slowly swimming up towards your finger, he could picture the smile slowly growing on your face without even needing to turn to look at you.

although rafayel may be a fish, he would definitely put in an effort to show you that he loves you too.

rafayel used his bottom fins to wrap around your finger as a way to give you a hug.

a soft gasp could be heard, and you tried to contain your excitement but rafayel could feel how your finger was trembling with happiness as you tried not to make any sudden movements that'll frighten him away from you.

the both of you remained in this state for a few moments, enjoying the silence. rafayel was initially unsure of how you would react to him attempting to hug you, but his worries about that dissipated the moment he saw the expression on your face.

rafayel had no way to describe the way you were staring at him, but he could read what was currently in your mind.

thank you for loving me too, fifi.

and a part of him felt satisfied that his mind reading skills was much better than yours, because at least he could beat you at something.

as rafayel’s fins continued hugging your finger, he smiled faintly to himself. so this was how it felt to hug a human, huh?

tonight, he was not rafayel. he was not the fish that lived in the wild, loving freedom and dangerous adventures.

tonight, he was fifi. the princess’s beloved pet fish that she loved immeasurably.

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stuffeddeer · 2 months ago

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literally you can completely ignore this bc idk if ur taking asks rn but..

dazai giving reader a flower and them just taking a bite out of it <3

(can be reversed bc let's be fr he is hungry)

Eating flowers with Dazai | Bungo Stray Dogs | Dazai x reader

i’m always taking asks i’m just not always doing them yk lolll hope this is alright anon :)

Dazai was a bit spooked. He’d never really received flowers from someone before - there was that time Chuuya had purchased a bouquet Dazai carried while they were undercover, and that time Kunikida carried a lone flower in that Dazai ended up stealing, of course. Except, no time had ever been genuine. Dazai had never received flowers expressing gratitude, romantic affection, platonic camaraderie, nothing of the sort.

Seeing you holding out a neatly wrapped yellow rose, thin orange cellophane cradling the finely cut plant, with no ulterior motives had his brain short circuiting.

Gesturing it for him to take, you say, “I thought it looked happy. Joyful, or whatever - ‘cause yellow is such a bright color. I thought you might enjoy it. Made me think of you.”

He did.

He so did. How was he supposed to quell his thrumming heart? Muscle beating out of control for just a moment, he stared down at the thoughtful gift in panic. This occurrence had never, well, occurred, and Dazai had no clue how to proceed. The funny jokester of the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t used to displaying emotions so freely, and he especially hadn’t been able to at his job before. Standing on the sidewalk of a quiet intersection, his short circuited brain rebooted all together.

When his mind came to, Dazai’s head was buried in the cellophane and petals were lodged back in his mouth. The taste was… floral, obviously. Maybe a little citrusy. His head pulled back, standing at full height once again as he chewed and swallowed every last petal on his tongue.

It’s no wonder people don’t gift him flowers.

“You just ate…it?” Dazai whispers, lips slightly parted in confusion.

Staring up at him, you slowly open your mouth, tiny white petals dribbling onto the ground. “Sorry. There’s still half left, if you’re hungry!” With a kind smile, assured that he’s merely upset you didn’t share, you lift the daisy Dazai had gifted you to show off that you had only eaten half of the flower’s petals.

Confounded, Dazai decides to sidestep the real question here and instead ask, “…Is it any good?”

You hum for a second, clearly pondering over the answer before nodding. “It’s a little bitter. Like, spicy? But that’s not the right word…”

Dazai raises his hand, gently pushing the half-petaled flower closer toward you. “It’s all yours; I got it for you.”

The grin you showcase before gobbling up the remaining half makes Dazai sigh. It was all worth it, he supposes.

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fanaticsnail · 4 months ago

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Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking 🥹🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

#one piece #x reader #ask snail #snail answers #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #op killer #kid pirates #one piece mini fic #gn!reader #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 11 months ago

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Thots of Matt eating reader out after she just shaved??🤭

love the way you think🫠

wrote this late last night, so not sure if all coherent - maybe just rambling brain rot. too lazy to edit it rn

matt murdock x fem!reader, mdni (18+ only!!)

aaaa so okay SO!!1

firstly I gotta say, and I quote forever and always, matt is a pussy eating fiend !! he don't care what you got, he's gonna eat. got a 70's bush? he's gonna chow down. haven't had time to clean yourself up beforehand? again, he's gonna gobble you up. he may have a preference (bc of his senses etc) - but he doesn't let that be known

BUT?? there's something just so addictive about eating you out after you just shaved, when you're all soft and smooth and silky - folds and pubic bone velvety to the touch and free of hair

I feel like it would be even more satisfying and enjoyable for him than usual, and he may even forget about getting you off. like the way your soft folds feel when he sucks them into his mouth, or simply just how good your pussy feels on his tongue

he would take all the time just leisurely licking you out, soft, pleased groans and moans muffling between your thighs - fingers digging into that crease, holding you still to his face. he'd be slow and teasing with it, changing things up without realising - unintentionally edging you. one minute, his tongue would be curled up into your pussy, tongue barely poking inside of you. the other he's on your clit, flicking over it. the next, he's sucking on it. the time after that, licking faint stripes up your slit

he also pays attention to other parts of your body without acknowledging it. maybe he trails kisses between your very inner thighs, spreading soft, open-mouth kisses over your heated skin - giving your poor, sensitive pussy a small time-out. his hands comfortingly stroking down your sides as if to reinforce his love for you

he also def reaches up to cup your tits when he eats you out, just saying ! just him extending his hands up to knead and squeeze them, as if to ground himself from his almost painful hard-on.. WHICH he has most definitely rubbed against the mattress a few times

more thots bc I can't help myself. but he doesn't let you get away, no matter how much you protest and push his head away - all you need to say is that small little word and it will immediately seize his movements. but you won't say it bc you don't actually want him to stop.. and he knows that

maybe he likes it when you get just shy of overstimulation, when you're moments away from tapping out. when you crush his head with your spasming thighs, or when you make those strangled and choked moans, or when you're just twitching and jolting against his face, or when your grip in his hair tightens, or when you shimmy up the bed, or when your cry half of his name in a breathy whine, or when you cream on his tongue

lastly, mr. matt murdock isn't about waste around here, so he never wastes a drop !! !! drinks you all up !! EVERYTHING !! since he can't see the messy state of your pussy after, instead, he runs his first two fingers over you - feeling the slippery and soft and puffy, soaked folds coated in spit and arousal. smearing everything around with A COCKY GRIN SLAPPED ON HIS FACE - feeling the literal mess he made of you

also also, he snogs you after to make you taste yourself 🫨

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

#ask #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock #matt murdock headcanon #daredevil #thots

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modelbus · 4 months ago

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can i request a reader (with sbi and also separate) who’s rich rich like she was born with a gold spoon and whenever she gives them gifts or treats them food they feel bad BAHAHAHA but it's just readers love language

can this be a drabble or whatever you can do :DD

I got your other message saying you wanted headcannons, so here you go! No wilbur for obvious reasons.

Included: Cc!Tommy, Cc!Phil, Cc!Techno, + all of them (platonic)

Rich Reader Headcannons

Tommy

Unapologetic about using your money.

He cares at first, and even when you say you’re paying he’ll order cheap things from restaurants, but after you give him the go ahead he will be a menace

Expect to lose all your money to Legos, his one true addiction.

“I could stream building this one, but this one would look so good in my room…” Tommy mumbles, squinting at two Lego boxes. You’re starting to regret letting him talk you into stopping by the store for what he said would be a quick visit.

It’s been two hours.

“Just get them both, Tom.” You finally sigh.

He lights up, no better than a kid on Christmas Day. “Fuck yeah!”

He’s money conscious, and will still note the price of things, but after he gets used to it he’s fine with you paying.

Doesnt blink twice at gifts.

You get this man anything and he will GOBBLE it up. Give him an Apple Watch? Great, his forever, he’s already wearing it. Give him a toothpick? He’s using it, perfect.

Won’t ask you to pay, and is very willing if you don’t want to, but let’s be real you always do pay.

He’ll say “thank you” at least. Five days later, maybe, when he finally remembers, but he says it!!

Talks you into buying things that you don’t need.

”I mean, you have the money. Y’know. Just saying.”

Phil

This man hates it, change my mind.

It’s a competition to see who can pay first with this man, and he does it out of pure spite.

Actually, he does it because he wants you to feel normal and not like you have to pay because you’re rich.

“I have the money, Phil!” You insist, holding your card.

“And I don’t care. I already gave them my card, I’m paying.”

When you make a stupid financial decision and buy a $1,000 lightsaber (blame Tommy), he just kinda sighs at you.

If you approach him for financial advice, he will genuinely tell you helpful things as if you weren’t incredibly rich.

He accepts your gifts, but always makes sure to somehow give you one in return.

maybe not of equal value… he isn’t as rich as you… but of equal love <3

Techno

Have you SEEN this man’s setup? He is in NO POSITION to decline gifts.

Will secretly be desperately in need of literally anything and just. Wont get it. So you end up buying it for him…

You order him food online to have it delivered to him and man just won’t say thank you. He’s rather awkwardly send you a photo of the food on his desk, entirely eaten.

Or he’ll just drop a photo of his new setup in discord for you.

He will “anonymously” acknowledge you when he streams/records a video on his new gear though.

“And if you’ve noticed this video came much faster than normal, it’s because of a new PC which runs at light speed.” He zooms into the face of his Minecraft character. “It’s not a toaster guys! Praise the rich gods!”

He literally can’t afford to buy you gifts in return.

Well he COULD but that man sees the shipping and is horrified.

His gifts in return are those photos of whatever you give him.

Techno genuinely is VERY appreciative though!! Like you are practically saving this man’s life by buying him shit.

He won’t ask for anything, you’ve just got to use your gut instinct to figure out what to give him.

All

Having all three to spend money on is a DREAM for you.

Phil forces Tommy to say “thank you” every single time. Repeatedly.

Techno sends his photos in the group discord, and Tommy will jokingly rage that he didn’t get a new PC or something that Techno did.

Paying when you all go to eat is a competition of speed between you and Phil. He started getting sneaky and approaching the waiter/waitress before they even brought the bill.

So you had to compromise and agree to give your cards to the waiter and let them pick a card at random.

(you win most times because you’ve got a fancy ass card)

For your birthday they tend to kidnap you from your bed and take you to do a surprise so you can’t find a way to pay or something 😭

They’re all in awe of your house, meaning you love having them over!!

Best vlogs occur at your house, let’s be honest

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #tommyinnit mcyt #technoblade x reader #technoblade #philza x reader #philza #mcyt imagine #mcyt #dsmp #tommyinnit imagine #tommy mcyt

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astralnymphh · 1 year ago

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AH ok aestra do u have any thoughts abt clitwarming w ellie 🙂

YESS!! ELLIE WILLIAMS LOVES PUSSY!!

but on a more thorough note. it's like a drug to her. to just sit there, weary bodied, pleating your panties off and rimming a suckle on your clit. no movement, no suctioning. just pure pussy heaven, "babe– m'gonna.. stay here a bit longer. don't crush my head, please." oh my god, but here's the thing. it's like you can feel every swallow hitch on your nerves cause everything else is stagnant. would tease you every now and then with a little frog lick, literal blep, and just giggles when your thighs jerk around her head– which does not help either. on the inside, though, there's a rebellious facet. wanting to just gobble up your clit and make you cum tenfold on her tongue, lapping every bit of juice that entices her taste buds to just.. move.

she looks like a mess between your thighs, too. ruffled locks, waning lids threatening to shut, lashes concealing her blinking eyes from your vantage point, hand slowly lacking a suffice grip on your thighs. yeah, she'd probably fall asleep in the moment. wakes up a minute later to notice her head has slipped and the spheral point of her nose is dipping past ur folds, "huh, mmh– didn't mean to dive in, heh~" THE 'HEH' IS SENDING ME THO TBH.. Heh! 😄 headaaass

love her to the edge of the universe and back. I HEART THESE ASKS!!

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams concept #ellie williams headcanons

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strawberriianime · 1 year ago

Text

those eyes

♡ Douma x innocent angel!reader

♡ cw: descriptions of sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, Douma being a complete liar, dominant Douma, Douma being a JERK, creampies? creampies, slight degradation & humiliation, loss of virginity, basically sexxxx.

♡ Douma is known for being cunning, so no figure he was able to fool you~

Humming softly you cleaned the delicate vases in the cool spring water allowing all sprinkles of dirt to get off of the vase. Your thin white dress was floating slightly in the water not bothering you the slightest. You would come down to this spring every now and then to wash different things, a way of blessing an item. Being an angel who had just recently arrived on earth you were getting used to the whole angel thing, you didn’t have much to do just visit small communities and offer small blessings. Blending in was easy, you had the appearance of a normal human your wings only being out when necessary since being here you haven’t run into any problems. Until.

Shaking the access water from the vase, you began making your way out of the water dressed, completely clinging to your body and showing off your lovely figure. Nipples poked through the long sheer gown, showing off the hue of the nubs.

“My my my, a woman shouldn’t be out here all alone you know” You turned your head left and right looking for the mysterious person who spoke suddenly. Facing back forward you were met with a pair of rainbow-colored eyes. You jumped slightly causing you to fall into the spring and drop the vase you were blessing causing it to break.

“Oh no you’ve fallen in, my deepest apologies. Please take my hand and allow me to help you out.” He smiled sticking his hand out to you. You took his hand as he helped you up and brought you out of the water.

“What might you have been up to? Out here all alone, how dangerous.” He kept that smile on his face, something about him was hypnotizing it was like his eyes put you in a trance.

“I was simply cleaning some belongings, I come quite often I was doing fine. Thank you for being concerned sir.” you smiled at him shaking the access water off of you.

“Oh no problem at all, a beauty like you must be protected you never know what could be lurking in the shadows out here ready to gobble your up.” His head tilted slightly to the side. Perhaps he was right, you know demons are real and they like to prey on the innocent. So it could be quite dangerous for you, you’ve only spent a total of 8 days on Earth and all has been swell so far.

“Perhaps you’re right, it is best that I do get going thank you for helping me.” you began walking away grabbing the one other vase that had not been broken.

“Ah, I can’t let you go just yet it is my fault that your other vase broke. It is only right if I replaced it. I have a dear friend who makes the loveliest vases you would just adore. So please allow me to replace it?” he placed his hands together almost begging you to come with him.

As an angel, giving the man a chance would be your moral duty. “Sure, however, I am soaking wet.” you sighed referring to the soaked sheer dress you were still wearing.

“Here” he wrapped an overshirt over your body, taking your hand. “Let us be on the way, I stay not too far from here” he began walking taking you with him. It took quite literally no time to get to his “home” it was more like a temple. Quite off that you did not see this any other time you wandered these woods, possibly you’ve missed some areas.

He pushed open a set of cold stone doors, the room decorated with nothing but shades of red and hints of black. The room was cold, not your average cold but below-freezing cold and you wearing wet clothing which made it no better. Your nipples began hardening making you cross your arms along your chest attempting to shield them from the male in the room with you.

“My would you like to shed your wet clothing? You would only get sick wearing such clothing at this temperature. I will go get you a towel, you may remove your clothing.” he hummed slightly making his way from the bedroom area. You began removing the overshirt from your body, laying it on a nearby rack. Peeling off the wet dress, you were left in your bare state. You had really no reason to wear any garments under your clothing, although you didn’t own any anyways. Jumping slightly, you felt a cloth being brushed along your skin.

“Shh it’s just me dear.” the familiar voice ranged out. He ran the cloth along your back, your arms, and slowly down your legs. It was almost embarrassing being exposed so freely to a man you hardly know but there was something so charming about him.

“No need to be so shy, I'm simply aiding you as it was my fault you fell in anyway.” he hummed. He made his way to the front of your body brushing the towel over your breast and making a circular motion with the cloth.

“Hm, it would be better if you at on the bed. I can dress you better that way” It was as if your body moved on its own causing your bottom to make a connection with the bed. He took the towel and began drying your left foot making way up your leg. Switching to your other foot, he began drying up your leg making his way up to your thighs. Taking the cloth he began drying your thighs, ensuring to absorb any moisture from the spring.

“Spread your legs,” he stated as if that was a normal thing to say to any woman.

“Uh, I-” Your face flushed to a shade of strawberry red.

“I’m just drying you off any I can’t dry you properly when you’re clamping your legs together locking their moisture in,” he states hands finding themselves on your plush thighs. Although it did not matter considering the strong grip he had on your thighs, you cracked your legs open slightly only for him to spread them wide open. Taking the cloth once more, he began wiping at the inner parts of your thighs getting rid of the last bit of spring water. He dropped the cloth to the floor, allowing his ice-cold hands to dance along your body. He ran a finger up your body, stopping right at your chin.

“You just smell of innocence, never been touched by a man or woman if you’re into that. The way you glide through the water of the spring just begging to be eaten up.” your face twisted up in confusion, what was he getting at?

“As I was drying you, you don’t think I noticed the way you tensed up or the way you clamped your legs together as if begging for me to touch you more?” he brought his face close to yours those rainbow eyes glowing even in a room with little to no light.

“Sir I must not do this, it isn’t right and I must remain pure.” you turned your head away from him.

“You will still be pure, just do whatever your heart desires~” his cold tongue licked along the side of your neck making you squeal. He lapped at your neck licking from the bottom all the way to the tip of your chin. You felt him push your body back slightly, your back coming in contact with the cool sheets. His large body towered over yours with ease. He licked at your neck again, this time trailing down making way from your shoulders to your right nipple. He licked ever so lightly at the bud that had been hardened by the temperature causing your to squirm under his body. He took his time with your nipple, sucking at the bud getting it nice and wet, rolling it along his tongue. He brought one of his fingers up your leg, dancing its way up to your warm entrance. You’ve never been touched by anyone like this before, it was a new feeling of complete bliss. Your body felt as if it had electricity flowing through it. His finger poked at your entrance, swiping slightly to remove the stickiness of your juices that held your folds together. Stroking at your entrance was enough to get your hips rolling. Just as he switched from your right nipple to your left, you felt him insert one of his cold fingers inside your warmth. He moved the solo finger slowly, allowing you to adjust to his finger. The feeling of his finger inside you and him toying with your nipple was almost enough to send you over the edge.

He released your nipple from his mouth, a thin trail of saliva bridging between the two. Your body tensed up as you felt him slide down to your lower half, cool breath tickling at your entrance. Taking both of his hands, he pushed your thighs apart spreading them to the widest of their ability. You felt his tongue lick with the perfect amount of pressure at your clit causing you to let out an erotic moan. You heard him chuckle slightly before he dove into your cunt licking sloppily while sucking harshly at the right areas. He sucked at your clit rolling the nub along his tongue, cool breath mixed with your warm heat causing your back to arch off of the bed. He gripped at your thighs, cuffing them into his hands holding you in place as he lapped at your cunt as if it was his last meal on earth. Your hands soon found their way to his golden hair, gripping the hair in your fist tight but not tight enough that it’ll cause pain. As if it was not enough already, you felt him release one of your thighs, taking two of his fingers and pushing them into your entrance. You groaned feeling the pressure of his fingers mixed with the feeling of him eating at your heat. Before you know it, he flipped you over so you were now on all fours and he was laying flat on his back. Your body hovered over his as he locked his hands into your thighs once more, pushing your heat down onto his face and allowing him to smother himself with your juices. The feeling was too much as your legs began shaking, but that did not stop his pace at all. With one final suck at your clit your body trembled to feel a euphoric feeling flood over your body.

You began catching your breath, chest heaving with each breath. You have never experienced this feeling, not once in 100 years. Was this wrong? Dragging you out of your thoughts you felt something fairly large Without any warning, you felt your inside being stretched to the fullest. The feeling was a mix of pain and pleasure and at the moment you were definitely feeling more pain.

“Please Sir I can’t take it.” your face scrunched up as the burn started to slowly fade.

“Oh but you can, and you will” he smiled showing those rainbow eyes. Looking into them almost had you in a trance, you didn’t realize that he began moving as you stared so deeply into his eyes. It wasn’t until a sharp snap of his hip that brought you to your sense. With every stroke he was slow but sharp, letting you feel every inch that he had to offer. Taking your hands and pinning them above your head, he began adjusting the pace. Things had gone from slow and sharp to a new pace of fast and rough. Each thrust was jagged, snapping so harshly into you as if he wanted to rip you in half. Your breast bounced at each thrust, the bed creaked loudly through the room, and the only sound left would be the sound of your squelching cunt that filled the room with its wetness.

“Fuck, you’re so tight I could barely fit still.”

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good just for me.”

“My hell you’re so fucking wet’“

You whined as his fast rough pace began puncturing your insides, you could feel every inch of him within the deepest parts of your stomach. Your cunt swallowed him whole, as it had been stretched as if it had been perfectly molded to his shape. He removed himself from you, once more finding yourself being flipped back onto all fours. He pushed you back down creating the perfect arch for him, allowing himself to push deeply back into you, The burning was still there as his raw flesh met your soft spongy walls. He dug himself deep into you, the deepest you’ve felt him go so far. He lowered his body, his chest resting on your back as he wrapped his hands around your lower waist slamming himself deep into you. You gripped the sheets under you, as a new wave of please came over your body.

“Sir please” you called out eyes shut tight body barely can hold on much longer. He licked at your ear, whispering a bunch of sweet nothings.

“Who would’ve ever thought that fucking an angel would be this easy? Oh, I have to tell the other uppermoons.” he chuckled body still pressed deep into yours. Uppermoons? What..

“Demons and angels aren’t supposed to be together but I think we fight together perfectly like two missing puzzle pieces.” Demon...? He was a demon?

“Oh don’t tell me you really couldn’t tell. How sad, the big scary demon just devoured the poor innocent angel. What are the odds you let a demon not only fuck you but take your first time?” he laughed not missing a single thrust.

“Don’t tell me you like that, your clamping down on me mighty tight” Your face flushed with shock so many emotions ran through your head.

“Don’t worry, your Lord Douma will take good care of you.” he snapped his hips sharply one last time enough to push you over the edge. You felt his own bodily fluid mix with yours, invading your intimate areas. He pulled himself out of you, laying your body down softly. He propped himself up staring at you with those rainbow eyes once more, this time a kanji symbol appearing in them. How can you be so dense, sadly to say you kinda liked it?

#I dont think this was good #I got tired of writing ugh #demon slayer #douma #douma x reader #reader x douma #demonslayer #demon slayer smut #douma smut #douma x reader smut #ayeteen plus #demon slayer imagine #anime smut #smut #doma x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny douma

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forbidding-souda · 2 months ago

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if you haven't already, could you do mondo, kazuichi and hajime with a goth girlfriend who's very feminine? tyty <3

Mondo Oowada, Kazuichi Souda, and Hajime Hinata with a very feminine goth girlfriend

I looked through my masterlists bc i thought already wrote one and that i wrote hella goth fics but appareantly it's only 2 so I'm tweaking. here you go anon ily here.

might be repetitive but who caresss

thumbs up emote

Sorry if it's underwhelming, I didn't realize how short it was until I read it over this morning. Highkey was high when I wrote the small scenario parts and the bold text. [next day, afternoon edit: wtf was i talking about this shit long ash LMFAO]

-Mod Souda

Mondo Oowada

❤ Perfect. Perfect for his aesthetic. Perfect for the atmosphere his home presents and you're such a perfect doll to great him at the gate of Hope's Peak every day. People are only surprised to know you two are together because of the fact that he pulled such a baddie. He'll wrap an arm around his shoulder and tell anybody who makes a comment to fuck off. He can pull. Duh. He's got you. But it's hard for anybody to take him seriously when he'll melt at the sound of your laugh.

"If you get your fucking," he wipes his cheek, "lipstick on me one more time." "You're going to what?" He stares down at his hand, the black lipstick smeared on the back of it from his touch. His cheek is stained. It's going to look ridiculous (but not as much as post-smear). His eyes hold a glare that's more intense than if you had just cursed at him. "Nothin'." Once again, he wipes his cheek, smearing it more. "Don't do that shit again." You in fact do that shit again.

❤ Don't get your makeup on him. It ruins his masculinity. His gang makes fun of him when he rides with black lipstick on his face, forehead to chin.

❤ On the back of a motorcycle in all black with heeled shoes brrr brrr.

❤ Yeah but tuck those necklaces in.

❤ And omg he's going to steal some of your hairspray sorry but he will. Whether you mind it or not. He's going to do it.

❤ + your over-the-top makeup yesss the both of you attract so many stares.

❤ I imagine people would want to take pictures of you two. He'd fucking hate it but you're like yes of course!!!!

❤ He tries to avoid main cities anyway as much as he can anyway.

Kazuichi Souda

❤ Worships you like it's nobodies business. You look just like a dream. The prettiest girl he's ever seen. From the cover of a magazine. Literally that fr. He's that obsessed with you. He's the type to carry you over a sewer grate so you don't get your heels stuck in it. He helps you tie your corsets and he'll buckle your boots for you. He'll kiss your neck whenever you're leaned over the bathroom counter doing your makeup. His intimacy is acts of service, but only for you. He'd do anything for you.

"Kazuichi?" You call from your bedroom. In the early morning, he's in the living room watching TV. At the sound of your call, your tone mildly concerned, he stands without hesitation. But you weren't in danger or anything. You were just having a hard time buckling your bra. Once he opened the door, you glance over. "Do it for me." It was more of a command than a request. "W-Woah there," he laughs nervously, taking a few steps at a time. "Sure, yeah. Sure thing." With no sign of the internal fluster, he hides the urge he gets to just stare at your half-covered chest like it were glowing. He steps behind you, focusing his eyes on your shoulder blades before strapping on the second hook of your bra. You had only managed to get one in. "There you go, gorgeous." You hum, a small smile on your face. "Thank you." Looking over your shoulder at him, you see his composure and how it changed drastically while you weren't looking. His cheeks were pink and his eyebrows were furrowed with distress. "Yeah," he says breathlessly, finally getting a look at your chest. "Anytime."

❤ Lord knows he just wants to gobble you whole like om nom nom.

❤ Yes he does the cooking yes he does the cleaning.

❤ He's your malewife.

❤ It makes sense to me somehow that he would be with somebody who's hyper-feminine. It's a good match.

❤ I'm in between the thought that he'd either make goth girlfriend jokes or hate them. I feel like he'd hate seeing memes about it bc it makes him feel like they're about you specifically. Bc you're HIS girlfriend. HIS.

❤ Shows you off.

❤ You'd probably be taller than him in some of your shoes.

❤ You'd get along with his classmates hella.

❤ And he'll give you the cutest pet names. Enchantress, spider, might call you evil as a tease.

Hajime Hinata

❤ You're both each other's scary dog privileges. With his glare and your outward appearance, it makes you two completely unapproachable. Hangouts in the dark of night have never been safer. You don't have to be scared of shit. He's here, and you're here. Fair's fair. There's not a person in the world that would want to bother you, and the fear of annoying you breaks any onlookers confidence. Plus, you're gorgeous, and it's threatening.

"Press this button to jump." He handed you the controller, and now he's practically leaning over you as he places his hands over your own. "I got it Hajime." "Just making sure." When you try and hone in on the button, your nail gets in the way. You smile to yourself before outstretching your finger to place the pad of your finger on it, your fingerprints practically sticking to it as you press down hard. But your nail had reached the button ahead of it, grazing down, lifting a bit upwards. Your face scrunches up at the sensation. "Uhh, are you alright?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed but smiling with adoration. "I'm good," you chuckle. "Beauty is pain."

❤ I see him as not gaf or being overly appreciative of the fact that you're goth. It's just your style. Nothing to get handsy over.

❤ He does like uniqueness tho and ofc you're the embodiment of that.

❤ Fucking hates when tourists want to take a picture though because they'll exclude him. I imagine tourists are the people that would walk up to you, locals not so much.

❤ Literally those memes of goth girlfriend with plain gamer boy.

❤ He can work an all-black wardrobe though.

❤ He looks a bit alternative just naturally. So replace those white button-ups with a black one and bam. You'll match.

#mondo owada #mondo oowada x reader #mondo owada x reader #danganronpa #x reader #danganronpa x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda x reader #hajime hinata x reader

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dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

Text

Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Running a little pâtisserie is quaint, and homey, and should not in any way get you involved with anything shady. Let alone the strange bounty hunter who prowls through your little town like the Grim Reaper himself. And yet here you are, teaching this literal murderer how to use a napkin.

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Also apologies in advance to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

There was a murderer at your window, and you weren’t really sure what to do about it.

Well, maybe not actually a murderer. Bounty Hunters tended not to wind up in prison after dragging back the desecrated remains of their latest quarry. But still. You recognized the black plume tucked slickly into his wide-brimmed, purple, hat, and the pale, bright, bob of his hair was nearly luminescent in the dark. He was certainly the least covert assassin you’d ever seen, and you had seen him. It was hard not to. Traipsing through town to deposit every wayward criminal, every long-lost villain, at the doorstep of who’d ever called for him.

‘Rook Hunt’ you thought his name was, or at least, that’s what the old woman in the market would call him before crossing herself and spitting in the dirt. It was all a bit on the nose in your humble opinion, especially with that strange, twisting, ebony, bow of his strung across his back. ‘Hunter’ indeed. But it’s not like you’ve ever done anything to warrant winding up in one of those dripping burlap sacks of his, so you’d let the dude have his drama. It was probably good advertisement. And it’s not like the guy had ever bothered you before.

You thought that reassurance on repeat as you watched said not-quite-a-murderer stare through the front window of your little bakery, as if your rising dough had been kneaded with the secrets of the known universe. But he didn’t do anything—just kept watching with rapt attention as you brushed egg wash over your pie crusts and swapped trays in and out of the ancient, brick, oven.

In all honesty, he was far from the strangest thing that’d been plastered to your window in the early AM, and it wasn’t like he was licking the glass or anything. So you let it slide.

One of the custard tarts you pulled from the oven had cracked across the top. Nothing out of the ordinary—there was always at least one dud in a batch. Normally you saved the rejects for Ace or Deuce to gobble up (depending on whoever managed to pop by first), but this one you set aside onto a little tea plate. You topped it with a dollop of freshly whipped cream and a spoonful of the blackberries you’d left sitting in sugar overnight. Then you plucked up a spare napkin and made your way out from behind the counter.

When you opened the door to your little bakery, the tingling overhead bell warmed your unwanted guest’s expression in a way that it most certainly should not have—lighting the whole of him with this sort of wide-eyed, innocent, joy that belonged nowhere on the face of someone you’d watched cart literal corpses into town.

“Mon pâtissier!” he chirped. “What a fine morning it is, no?”

The sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. You could still hear the drone of crickets and toads in the distance, basking in the humid darkness of the night.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “We’re not open for,” you glanced at the moon, still full in the sky, “at least four more hours. If that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“Oh—non, non, non,” Rook waved you off. “I just wanted to watch!”

“…Watch?” you repeated.

“It’s quite the fascinating process!” he absolutely beamed. “Taking such basic, individual, components and turning them into something so spectacularly sweet and heartwarming! Quelle inventivité! I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about your marvelous menu!”

‘From who?’ you wanted to ask, because you’d never heard of anyone being able to hold a conversation with this man for more than a stuttered sentence at a time, let alone for long enough to go about giving dessert recommendations. But there was a streak of red blood across his cheek that still looked fresh enough to not even have gone tacky yet, and now that you looked closer, his dark gloves were perhaps a shade too dark to not have been, well…

You sighed and reminded yourself once again that is was absolutely not your business, before handing him the napkin.

He stared at it with that same sort of rapt fascination that had you wondering if this man had ever actually interacted with proper civilization in his entire life.

“Wipe your hands,” you demanded with a huff, and he dutifully scrubbed at his stained fingers. Once he was clean enough that he was at least no longer dripping unmentionables all along your windowsill, you held out the little saucer for him to take.

“Pour moi?” he muttered, looking a bit starstruck.

“If you’re going to say all those nice things about my food, you may as well get to try what you’re complimenting,” you shrugged, and that same eager enthusiasm lit his face all over again. “And it will be a nice treat to take home with you,” you emphasized, with all the intonation of a cheery ‘please get the fuck out before you scare away all my customers for the day.’

But instead of turning and meandering off back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of, he just kept staring at the little treat like he had no idea what to do with it.

“It’s a tart,” you said blandly, fighting the furrow in your brow.

Rook repeated ‘a tart’ under his breath like it was some kind of ancient, forbidden, enchantment, and not like it was literally scrawled into the little menu sign at your door at least a dozen times over.

The Bounty Hunter peered at the little custard treat like you’d handed him a treasure beyond measure. After a moment of carefully poking at the browned crust like it wasn’t literally meant to break apart beneath one’s fingers, he looked back over at you with eyes that were far, far, too green. He lifted the tart up like he meant to give it back to you.

“I ought to offer you la première bouchée,” he smiled.

You blinked, taken aback, and pushed the plate back into his hands. “That’s not how free samples work.”

Rook tossed his head back with a bout of boisterous laughter that should have been loud enough to wake everyone on the block. You glanced around nervously, hoping no one was about to come running out to make noise complaints.

“Ahh~ But how else will I know the best manner in which to savor such a treat?”

“You eat it,” you gaped. And then, slowly, because you weren’t even sure you were dealing with a functional human being anymore. “With your teeth.”

The Bounty Hunter, with his blood smeared cheeks and even bloodier clothes, put all those shiny, pearly whites of his on display in a merry grin. He swept forward in a grand bow that had the feather in his hat bobbing about in a way that reminded you far too much of a wagging tail.

“Of course!” he chirped. “In my home you said, yes?”

Please, you wanted to groan. Go there. Leave.

“Ideally,” you said instead, and Rook ducked his head until that purple hat of his had cast the whole of his face into shadow. He reached up to tap two fingers against the wide brim and tip it forward.

“Merci, merci!” he trilled. “Then I will endeavor to consume this marvelous spécialité humaine in the proper fashion. A very good morning to you then, cher pâtissier!”

He straightened with a merry little hum and began making his way back down the cobblestone road. In the soft light of the setting moon, his footsteps left odd prints in their wake—inky, black, dripping things that had faded entirely by the time you were able to focus enough to get a proper look at them, leaving you wondering if they’d really just been nothing but a trick of the night.

Well, that was fucking weird,you frowned, shaking the fuzz from your head. You slipped back inside and the door jingled pleasantly as it slammed behind you. But then again, when wasn’t customer service a trip? These people were all ridiculous.

Bright and early the next morning, you were waiting for Deuce to arrive with his delivery of a fresh crate of eggs. It was ungodly early, as it always was. But at least there was no hunter at your window this time around—

There was a bang and a screech, and then an unfortunate sort of cracking-squishing-yucky noise that sounded an awful lot like a couple dozen eggs meeting their doom. You frowned and tucked your rag into the ribbons of your apron and ducked out from the backroom with a sigh. Deuce was at the door. Or, well, Deuce was on the ground in front of your door. With the shattered, yolk, remnants of your shipment scattered all around him.

“I’m not paying for that,” you huffed irritably, and your friend looked up with a squawk.

He looked like he was trying to say something, but his face just kept flashing back and forth between deathly pale and a miserable sort of mottled red.

“I—! You—! And he—!”

“Use your words, Spade,” you sighed.

“I do believe he’s trying his best, cher pâtissier!”

You froze, and turned in near-slow-motion to see a beaming Bounty Hunter crouched at one of the little painted benches lined up neatly along your storefront. Not on one, like a normal person. But beside one. On the ground. There was no blood on him today. None that was very obviously dripping down his face at the very least. He didn’t seem like he’d come bearing any ill will, but your Chicken Dealer was still splayed out on the ground—nearly convulsing—so that wasn’t a great sign either.

“What’s going on out here?” you demanded, hands at your hips.

“I do believe Monsieur Spade had himself a bit of a fright,” Rook beamed, and then turned towards your very gaunt looking friend with a soft tut-tut noise that for all its amiability didn’t sound particularly sympathetic. “You really ought to work on your balance, hmm? Alas, all these petits oeufs have gone to waste.”

“What?!” Deuce immediately bristled, on the defensive. “If you hadn’t scared me, then none of these chicks would have had to die so tragically in the first place!”

“For the last time,” you sighed, grinding the heels of your palms into your eyes. “Unfertilized farm eggs are not baby chicks.”

“But Ace said—”

“Enough! With what Ace said!” you snapped, exhaustion and a sore lack of tea, or coffee, or anything wearing away at your already fragile sanity. “Ace would sell you snake oil and cry to your face about you underpaying for it!”

“Oh?” Rook chirped, unfolding himself from his crouch to stand at his full height. He wasn’t particularly gangly or long limbed—not even especially tall, all things considered. But there was something about him that made him loom. From the sharp cut of his purple robes to the harsh, starched, white of his tight collar. He was neat, composed. And yet… very much not civilized. “Is this not a person who wishes you well, cher pâtissier?”

You frowned, something odd tugging at a sixth sense of yours. Just… a little something on the periphery of your nerves, singing that the words you chose now would mean a lot more than they ought to.

You hummed, low in your throat, and considered.

“Ace is himself,” you said finally, “but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Magnifique!” Rook beamed and clapped his hands together with a near lovelorn sigh, all at once perfectly pleasant and soft. “It is such a very good thing to have friends!”

“…Is that what you are?” Deuce asked, enough of that enraged spunk fading away to leave him properly cautious once more. His blue eyes flickered pointedly from the bounty hunter, to you, and back. “A friend?”

You sighed and turned to retreat back into your little shop without a word. Deuce scrambled to his feet to follow you in hesitantly, still dripping with the remnants of too many eggs. You shot him a look, and he immediately darted over to the mop and bucket you kept propped up in the corner. Rook stood in the doorway, nearly just a blur of bruised shadow against the backdrop of the pre-dawn darkness, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye. After a long moment of terse silence, he stepped beyond the threshold with a little hum. He wiped his feet pointedly on your little welcome mat, and then turned to stand at the counter. He fished around in the pockets of his cloak for a moment before withdrawing a strange little flower. He placed it on the countertop with a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his green eyes.

You stepped forward to observe it curiously, and your brows shot up in surprise.

It wasn’t a flower at all. What had looked like the folded arch of soft petals was actually a dainty pair of wings. It was a tiny butterfly—caught in a perpetual sort of stillness. It was bright, and colorful, and so carefully preserved that even when you trailed a flour-coated finger along the thin membranes of its wings, it stayed clean and crisp.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Payment, of course!” Rook smiled. “For the lovely treat you gifted me the other day.”

You sighed, not at all in the mood to discuss the lack of viable conversion rates between copper coins and bugs.

So instead you settled on huffing, ��Free samples are free. It’s in the name.”

Rook just kept on smiling, unbothered. Deuce knocked into some set of drawers or other—or maybe the coatrack. Who knew—and you shot him an irritable little scowl. The guy was like a bull in a china shop on the best of days, let alone when he was trying to multitask, and be sneaky about it all the while. The bounty hunter’s grin twitched a bit at the corners, like the idea of your blue-haired friend trying to stealthily keep a watch on him was just the funniest thing.

You glanced back down at the little, frozen, butterfly. It really was very pretty, even if it was a little odd.

When you ducked back behind the counter, you unearthed a blueberry muffin from one of many stacks of trays there. It was little lopsided, and maybe there were a few too many bits of fruit in it. Surely no one would have wanted it anyways.

You plopped it on the countertop, and both Rook’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead. When he made no move to take it, you pushed the confection closer. The wrapper slid along the counter in a heavy, sticky, way. You’d have to remember to wipe it down again after. The Hunter reached out carefully to pluck the treat up between his fingers. He squished it delicately, in a similarly cautious way as to how you’d stroked the little butterfly.

“Is this also for eating at home?” he asked, observing the offering with a wide, wonderous, expression.

“Yes,” you said, just in time for Deuce to nearly annihilate your trash bin. “Please enjoy it.” Please get out. You’re distracting my maid.

Rook Hunt dipped into another of those ridiculous, bobbing, bows and pinched the brim of his hat between his fingers.

“Your generosity continues to warm my heart, mon cher,” he crooned, eyes practically sparkling from behind the sharp cut of his heavily lined lashes. “I will endeavor to return your kindness tenfold! A hundred!”

You waved off his sentimentality with a flick of your wrist and a not so delicate ‘shoo shoo.’

The hunter left your little bakery with a spring in his step and an outpouring of flowery promises that had your head spinning. He melted seamlessly into the shadows of the early morning, and between one blink and the next, he’d vanished entirely.

You would have thoroughly enjoyed the well-earned silence that followed, if not for the veritable storm cloud brewing over your friend’s head.

“Do I get one…?” Deuce asked finally, staring outright at the remaining muffins and sounding small and hopeful. And like that clearly wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

“Maybe if I had the eggs to make more,” you lamented, brushing your hands against your apron.

Deuce made a wounded noise which you had exactly zero sympathy for. You got to work wiping down the counters and sorting through the bits and bobs you’d need to start your day.

“…You know he’s not right, don’t you? That bounty hunter?” Deuce finally said, setting the mop aside. “You must have heard at least some of the rumors floating around town. I don’t think anyone even knows if the guy’s human.”

You shrugged.

“Anyone who has to wake up when I wake up each morning has long given up on humanity anyways,” you droned, only sort of half kidding.

Deuce frowned, clearly unhappy with your non-answer.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” he asked, stern in his fretting. There was still a big ol’ chunk of eggshell tangled up in his bangs.

“When I am ever not?” you smiled, and carefully pocketed the little, blue, butterfly.

When you popped by the market stalls after closing shop for the day, the street was abuzz with all the usual gossipy nonsense that you’d long since learned to let settle at the back of your brain like white noise. You were busy debating if you had enough arms to manage balancing yet another bag of strawberries (they were at their height of freshness these past weeks it seemed, and you were like a little fruit goblin hoarding them while you could), when a particularly shrill bit of chatter worked its way past the pleasant curtain you’d let fall across your thoughts.

“There was another one,” the butcher’s wife whispered in a way that was most certainly not a whisper.

“I heard,” chittered the man who really should have been trying to sell you more strawberries if he’d any kind of business sense whatsoever. He turned on you with a look that meant you were clearly about to be dragged into a conversation you were entirely unprepared for. “It was one of yours, apparently!”

“One of my what?” you blinked back into focus.

“One of your regulars,” he said, like a secret.

“That strange Bounty Hunter came through again,” his coconspirator hissed, with a hand lifted as if she meant to cover her mouth. “He dropped off the body the other day—delivered the heart straight to the Felmier’s porch!”

“Who was it?” you asked, just like you knew they wanted you to.

“Sir Hamlen,” the butcher’s wife said. “You know, that awful toad who could eat you out of house and home.”

That sounded like all of your costumers, and more than half of your closest friends, but you gave yourself a moment to sort through your scattered thoughts and try and connect whatever dots they’d been throwing at you.

“Sir Hamlen…?” you said after a moment, slowly putting a face to the name. “With the terrible goatee?”

They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Rotten pig,” the butcher’s wife piped back in. “Served him right, if you ask me. Everyone was expecting the Crown would put him to death anyways.”

You shrugged again. You hardly knew the man, but he’d always paid you well enough that you didn’t really have any ill will towards him. You went back to fussing over balancing bags of berries, but then… Well, there was something a bit funny, actually. He’d been a loud sort of person, with no filter to speak of. One afternoon, he’d stumbled into your little shop absolutely pissed on cheap drink and all but burping bubbles.

‘You know,’ he’d lulled, dropping a full coin pouch on your countertop. Which you’d taken in its entirely with zero hesitation. ‘I’d die happy if my last meal was these fucking tarts of yours.’

‘Is that so,’ you’d drawled, in the bland way you answered literally every customer who spouted off whatever nonsense was kicking around in their heads.

‘Aye,’ he’d sighed, practically stooped over. ‘Gonna have to pry ‘em outta my cold, dead, hands.’

“Huh,” you muttered, thoughts wandering back to a pair of bloody gloves and the little treat you’d pressed into them. Huh.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Rook Hunt x Yuu #Reaper!Rook #Monster Mayhem #Fantasy AU #Rook Hunt #Deuce Spade #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Rook Part 1

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azirafuck · 1 year ago

Text

GOS2 Spoilers Masterpost (ONLY EP. 1-2)

alright, you read the title, you know what's under here - gonna tag everyone who helped this if I know them, thanks to everyone for their contribution and for being agents of chaos the way satan intended. love you all

[Last update/edit: 24/07 - 14:10CET]

first of all, we got some amazing posts from @incorrectquoteswwdits mostly about the first scene in heaven with crowley as an angel:

angel!crowley creating stars and aziraphale thinking he's calling him beautiful

more on that

aziraphale's lies make the lesbians have problems, apparently

communist aziraphale be like OUR CAR

isolation and doubts

THEN we have a detailed recount of the first episode by a kind anon! again, thank you @incorrectquoteswwdits for sharing <3

@goodomens-hints posted a lenghty and detailed recount of the first episode as well with some little hits at future episodes (nothing too big on the post itself, but BE CAREFUL, the blog is actually posting some other spoilers from episodes past the second one!)

@goodomensjail gave us a detailed recount of the first scene, with angel!crowley starting to question stuff and eventually shielding aziraphale with his wing

@mikubinders gives us SOME GOOD GOURMET SHIT by telling us that:

"Beelzebub kidnaps and threatens Crowley, tells him that ze could put a price on his head but ze doesn't want to. After that Crowley comes back to the bookshop and Good-old-fashioned lover boy plays while he drives there. "I'm back" happens. Aziraphale makes Crowley do a silly little apology dance so he forgives him and so they work together"

after thinking this last spoiler was fake, an anon came through and confirmed its real! we also have new context! (sent by an anon to yours tuly)

anon came through with some details about the Everyday record, told us Queen is actually tied to CROWLEY and not to the Bentley, and gave us more context to the OUR CAR and OUR BOOKSHOP bit (sent by an anon to yours tuly)

as for what happens during the Job flashback, after which the sitting five feet apart on a rock in front of the sea happens, a bunch of different versions of what actually happens are going around. @thesherrinfordfacility kept up with the madness surrounding it, so im gonna post here the last two versions of events/details.

first one:

In the Job section, Aziraphale is questioning gods decision of punishing Job. Then u see him in heaven w Muriel here and they are looking thru a long scroll that has instructions from god and he's trying to make sense of it. Muriel is telling him that god and satan made a bet about what Job would do and that's why they are testing him. And az is like whatttt why would god do that that's mean!

When Az finds out they're going to kill Jobs kids, he goes down to Earth to save them while using his angel voice until he realizes he's speaking to Crowley. He sees Crowley about to enter the kids room and tells Crowley "I know you, you wouldn't do this" and Crowley tells him he doesn't know him really. (

AND TY TENNANT IS SASSY AND FLIRTS W AZ??!??!? (*) And THATS when crowley goes "well he seems nice" from the clip. He wasn't jealous tho, like he thought it was funny since they are literally there to supposedly kill these kids and one of them is flirting lol.

The moment of 'weird-beard Crowley' was actually more focused on azi and him questioning God. Crowley tempts Azi w food and u see him struggle but then he gobbled it down and he cries bc he thinks crowley is going to bring him to hell (that's the scene where they are sitting on that thing with the pretty horizon) Crowley tells him "you're just an angel who follows gods as will as much as he can" and Az says that sounds lonely, and Crowley agrees, which is a callback to when he asked Crowley if he was lonely being on what Crowley calls "his own side", and Crowley said no. Crowley then tells him "i'm a demon. I lied"

(*): it was told this isn't actually canon canon, it's up for interpretation - some reported Ty's character is just the classic bratty teenager UPDATE: NOPE anon cleared it up and apparently it DOES read as flirty because ty's character is a little bitch, love that for us

and then we have the second one:

"Episode 2 is half present day things [...], and half the Job story/flashback. Crowley is the demon sent by Satan to torment "God's favorite human" Job to see if Job will curse God, in one big bet between God and Satan. Aziraphale comes to try to stop him, discovers they recognize each other but haven't seen each other since "the flood" and that Crowley seems to have changed since the flood, because he is willing to sacrifice the goats, and ruin Job's house. Crowley says he "has a permit" to torment Job FROM GOD. Aziraphale brings this up to the archangels that gleefully explain that yes it's a bet with Satan and that Job will suffer, but he will get everything back 3-fold by the end. And he will get NEW children. This disturbs Aziraphale, he does not want the CURRENT children to die, he understands the familial love that the archangels do not. He goes to stop Crowley not with power since he has the permit but to reason with him. Aziraphale says things to the effect "I KNOW you don't want to harm them I KNOW you and you don't want to kill children" and Crowley is defiant, but then…. It is revealed that he never killed any of the goats either, he transformed them into pigeons to hide them. And he is hiding the children away in the basement but destroying the house to make it look like they died. He transforms the three kids into lizards to hide them, then when the Archangels descend to give Job his rewards and tell him his wife will bear 7 new children, Job and his wife are in despair because they love their children. Crowley comes in pretending to be a human doctor and he and Aziraphale LIE to the angels faces about how babies are made and trick the angels into thinking Jobs three original children are NEWLY BORN children. Which fools Gabriel, who has only ever seen God make Eve fully grown from Adam's ribs. Crowley then meets Aziraphale at the rock. Aziraphale is crying and says "im ready for you to take me to hell" because he has LIED to angels and foiled God's plans. Crowley is gentle and comforts him that he is still an angel and "I won't tell anyone if you won't" and they reminisce that it's lonely being a different kind of demon and a different kind of angel that sort of do what they feel is right. Heavily implying that they are the same and have each other now. The end of episode 2.

that's what's going around for now, but ill add stuff if we find anything new - also feel free to add to this yourself or send me stuff!

#good omens #good omens spoilers #its not much but its honest work #TY TENNANT IS MAKING ME LAUGH SO MUCHHHHH

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gingerlee-holds · 4 months ago

Note

I feel bad for popping a request in ☠ anyway

If you're feeling up to it, perhaps ler Todoroki x lee Reader (bc me and reader insert are inseparable /j) from MHA? Length, perhaps 900+ words if possible? But I'll be grateful for anything haha, I also don't want to force you to write more if you're not feeling inspired i'm gonna be honest here I haven't watched MHA in a long time ☠ and I have no idea what scenarios would be realistic because he's,, Todoroki,,

Personally i'm a sucker for evil/more intense tickles because I wish I was ticklish but if that makes you uncomfy do feel free to ignore :)

oh hush, you!!! i love requests, so thank you so so much!! i just hope this is somewhat what you wanted heehee- enjoy!!! i have a huge crush on this dork so that creeps in- also the reader's quirk is whatever you want it to be, cuz its not mentioned- also also!! im really really sorry if i fuck the names up cuz from what i know of the show, Todoroki is the family name, so Shoto is the given name but i could be totally wrong

i just wanna say that i really really like writing the rambly bits from Shoto about the book-

the reader is sorta a brat lol

Like Poetry

Words: 2,334 Pairing: Ler!Shoto, Lee!Reader Warnings: lotta fluff!!! not proofread!!!

You groaned as you entered the common room. Mr. Aizawa’s personal training was brutal today, and you were not looking forward to feeling how sore your muscles would be tomorrow morning. Sighing, you grabbed one of Sato’s cupcakes from the counter and flopped onto the sofa, confident it would be unoccupied. It was about seven in the evening on a Friday, which meant everyone was either in their rooms or somewhere around town.

You huffed into the mattress before gasping at the sound of a page being turned. Looking up, you saw you were about a foot away from, in your mind, the strongest student in your class. He was sitting with perfect posture, reading a book with yellowed pages. On the coffee table sat a mug filled with tea.

Shoto Todoroki didn’t look up from his book at you. If he knew you were there, he didn’t show it. He silently read, seemingly fully absorbed. You sat upright, shaking off the embarrassment of almost landing on him, of all people.

You cleared your throat and gobbled up your cupcake in one bite, setting the wrapper down next to his tea. Still, he didn’t move. Raising an eyebrow, you poked him in the side to get his attention, and the surprised gasp he gave made you giggle. Shoto looked at you, brow furrowed in annoyance, but his face soon softened when you smiled and waved.

“Hi!” you said chipperly.

He nodded politely in return. “Hello, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”

With a chuckle, you shoved his shoulder. “No worries! Whatcha reading, bookworm?”

Shoto tilted his head. “I’m not a worm.”

You sighed and repeated your question without the tease. You loved that your classmate was so adorably literal.

“I’m reading this book of old poetry. I don’t remember where I got it - it feels like my family’s always had it lying around. I decided to read it today since everyone’s out.” His voice was calm as he spoke.

You were somewhat interested in the subject but mostly just wanted to hear him talk some more. It was so rare that he spoke. “Anything good in there?”

“I found this one that I liked,” Shoto said before flipping back a few pages. “Rain on lemongrass. / Ash trees weep o’er their lost sun: / Their light and love, gone.”

The poem made you hum in thought. “What’s it about?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asked. Taken on its face, it was an insulting question, but you knew Shoto was genuinely unsure whether to explain it. You shook your head in reply. “The poem is about heartbreak. A woman falls in love with someone, and suddenly, that person has to leave. The woman feels like she has nothing left as she cries into a world that has bigger concerns than her. Soon, perhaps, her love shall return, the sun re-emerging from the clouds, but there’s also the possibility that she doesn’t last until then, and the wind blows her over. Ash trees symbolize grief, so perhaps they may never meet again. The lemongrass, evoking a cheerful memory, is smothered under the rains that hide her beloved.” Suddenly, he looked up from the page. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was rambling.”

You scratched your head. “How did you get all that from just three lines?” You didn’t mind, of course. He was cute when he rambled. To your great surprise, he let out a soft and sheepish smile.

“Well, I suppose I have too much time on my hands,” he said, looking away. You smirked and poked his side again, giggling at his surprised reaction. Shoto let out a muffled yelp and jumped, glaring at you suspiciously and rubbing his side. “Quit that.”

“Sorry, Icy-hot! Can’t be helped!” You held up both your hands in mock surrender.

“Hm,” Shoto mumbled, looking back to the book. “This book was written entirely by hand. See? This character is slightly different here, here, and here,” he continued, pointing at different parts of the page. “And from what I can tell, its publication predates quirks, hence why they are not mentioned. If they had quirks, you would think there’d be a suggestion of their existence, no? Yet there’s nothing. For all intents and purposes, it seems like this book is a remnant of a simpler world.” His expression looked distant as if his mind were a hundred miles and years away.

You leaned back, folding your arms behind your head. “Sounds dorky. Maybe you should tell Deku! I’m sure he’d be all too interested,” you chuckled, then looked over. If he heard your comment, he gave no sign. He must still be lost in thought. Looking down at his side, you saw it was perfectly exposed. You were pushing your luck. Then again, what is a hero if not someone who tries their luck? You pursed your lips together and quickly extended your hand to poke Shoto’s side again.

But he was faster. As if expecting your reckless act, he set his book down and grabbed your hand before it made contact in one fluid movement. “You don’t listen, do you?”

“I do my utmost to avoid doing that, yes,” you said, giggling nervously. His grip was firm, giving you no delusions of escape. His hand was chilly, as if Shoto was threatening to encase your whole arm in ice at any moment. You tugged slightly.

He didn’t let go. “No, you need to learn this lesson.” Somehow, that was among the scariest things you’ve ever heard, right alongside the speech of the hero killer and Mr. Aizawa announcing an extra homework assignment before the summer break. Shoto pushed your legs toward the end of the couch, pinning you to his chest with both hands held behind you. You shuddered as Shoto said, “Now, learn well.”

Since both your hands were stuck behind you against his torso, you couldn’t defend yourself whatsoever when he descended both hands onto your stomach. You erupted into bright, bubbly laughter and kicked your feet like that would do anything to help. All that went through your head was repeated, ‘Oh, fuck, that tickles!’

You heard Shoto’s hum of approval from behind you as he clawed his fingers over the thin fabric of your shirt. “Interesting,” he mumbled to himself.

“ShIhihihihIt! ShohOhOHohotoHoHoho!” You shook your head and thrashed all you could, but it didn’t matter. Shoto was stronger, and he would make sure you knew it.

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked casually.

“STohohoHOAhaap!!” It didn’t have a chance of working, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“No.” Shoto’s clawed hands squeezed around your stomach in circles, taking a moment to dwell on your extra-ticklish lower stomach, which he took delight in exploiting. If you didn’t know any better, you would even say he enjoyed it as much as you were.

“NohOHoHOhoHT TheheHEherre!” you pleaded helplessly, throwing your head back to give your torturer the best puppy eyes you could… although they were far less effective than you had hoped since they were quickly squeezed shut in uproarious laughter.

“Here? Right here, yes?” Shoto released a flurry of pokes on your lower stomach as if he wanted confirmation.

You nodded and hiccupped, doing all you could to contain the blush that bloomed on your face at the sound of his cooing hum. Mercifully, he gave you a break, and you panted for breath against him. “Shihihitt…” you giggled, squirming in his grasp to get the ghost tickles off your tummy.

“Here,” Shoto said, and you turned to see he was holding up his mug for you. Gratefully, you took a big sip of the refreshing tea, smiling a little at the warmth of it. It was strangely sweet; you had expected Shoto to only like the bitter teas, but surprisingly, the flavor was somewhat sugary. As if reading your mind, Shoto said, “It’s chamomile. It helps me relax.” He took the mug from your mouth and set it back on the table.

Shoto cleared his throat. “Now,” he began, “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Is my release dependent on how I answer that?”

“Yes.”

“Then… Never!” You madly giggled as you attempted to escape his grasp before quickly regretting it. He had you suitably pinned, and to further reinforce his lesson, you realized with terror that he was rolling up your shirt to your ribs. “Wait, Shoto-!”

Your tormentor didn’t give you time to finish. Without fanfare, his hands descended onto your exposed tummy. Instead of clawing around, as he had done before, he was using quick scribbles, which, coupled with his cold fingers on your bare skin, was maddening.

“SHohOhoHOTO!” You had no idea you were so ticklish! By the looks of things, it seemed like he had been in tickle fights before, and from how badly he was wrecking you, he was used to winning them.

He hummed in thought as your thrashing weakened. “Your belly button is incredibly ticklish,” he observed. It was, to your dismay, very accurate. It didn’t help that his cold finger was heightening the feeling!

“PLehEHehEHHEase! MeheHEheheercyy!” you squealed out, kicking and bucking like a horse.

“Goodness, you’re dramatic. It’s only tickling, Y/N. If anything, this should build your endurance. What if the League captured you? I doubt you’d last a minute before you spill everything you know if they knew this weakness of yours.”

Why did he have to be so monotone with his teasing? He sounded so casual as if he were still explaining the history of that old book - only he was speaking over your hysterical cackling. He was a fast learner, too: he was pretty adept at locating the spots that got an especially wild reaction out of you and cruel in punishing them.

Shoto’s fingers increased in pace while always keeping one wiggling about in your navel. “I know,” he said, “I get it; you’re very, very ticklish. Now calm down.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He was having fun! “I wonder… you’ve inspired me to write my own poetry! Let’s see…” He paused to think, unfortunately not slowing down the tickles, making you yelp and shriek. “Ticklish cutie / Squealing on the couch with glee / With a cute tummy,” he slowly said as if writing it down. With a gasp, you felt him do just that, writing down the poem on your belly with the tip of his fingernail.

You turned beet-red as you threw your head back, your laughter turning silent. You had long since begun crying with delight, and tears rolled down your cheeks in rivers, but he didn’t stop until you started coughing. With a chuckle, he released you, and you panted for breath. You didn’t move from his lap, and Shoto didn’t seem to mind. He gently placed a hand on your forehead, tilting it toward him.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently. You nodded with a smile, which he returned. His smile was inviting, like a sunbeam on a winter’s day. He slowly helped you sit back up and handed you his mug again. You eagerly gulped it down. The tea was warm and sweet, and when you finished it and set it back on the table, you realized that Shoto wasn’t too different.

“Thank you, Shoto,” you said softly.

“For the tea?”

“Yes,” you replied, “and… for the tickles. It… helped me unwind.” You looked away and rubbed your neck shyly.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. It was fun for me, too. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that.” He smiled again, a small treat like candy. “It’s nice to see you so carefree. You’re usually a ball of nerves,” Shoto admitted bluntly, making you sigh and nod in agreement.

You basked in the silence for a bit before both of you suddenly looked up. That was the unmistakable sound of… And right on cue, the word ‘mumble’ began to figuratively float across your field of view. At its origin, you and Shoto saw Izuku madly scribbling in his notebook and mumbling about something. You swore you caught the words “ticklish,” “stomach,” and “squeals.”

Behind Izuku, standing in the hallway, were Ochaco, Denki, Tsuyu, Mina, Eijiro, and Kyoka. The first two desperately attempted to quiet Izuku, to no avail. You sat bolt upright, glaring at the unwelcome audience.

Eijiro broke the silence with a playful swat to the back of Izuku’s head. “You got us caught with your nerd shit, Deku,” he joked, making the green-haired hero look away backfully.

“That was adorable!” Mina grinned, pointing at you. “You made a bunch of noise, so we wanted to check it out!”

“You’d better erase what you wrote, Deku.” You spoke calmly but in a way that gave no misapprehensions about your seriousness.

Ochaco looked over Izuku’s shoulder. “Doesn’t look like he’s gonna do that.”

“Midoriya,” Shoto spoke up. “Be sure to write that they couldn’t use their quirk while being tickled.”

You gasped at the betrayal. “Don’t you fucking dare write that, Deku!”

With a glance, Denki, Kyoka, and Tsuyu replied simultaneously, “Oh, he’s already writing it.”

With a growl, you shot from the couch. “You’re fucking dead, Deku!” Your classmates yelped with shock and ran down the hall from you, stifling their giggles.

Eijiro, egging you on, tossed back over his shoulder a snide, “Now you’re sounding like Katsuki!”

“Oh, I’ll make Katsuki look like a fucking bag of pop rocks when I’m done with you idiots!” Your threat carried no heat since it was filled with giggles. You couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation, smiling fondly at how much you loved your friends.

And behind you, on the couch, Shoto grinned with pride as he picked up his book to continue reading. He was glad he had been allowed to be so affectionate with someone for a chance. Absent-mindedly, he picked up his mug of tea for a sip but sighed disappointingly at the lack of tea inside. Maybe he needed bigger mugs.

#kayde wrote something woah #ler!todoroki #lee!reader #kayde's in a lee mood tag #mha tickle #mha tickle fic #mha tickle fanfic #mha tickle fanfiction #ticklish!reader #todoroki x reader #platonic tickles #my hero academia tickle fic #bnha tickle #my hero academia tickle #mha tickling

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