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#under radar ya
malerek · 2 years
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Under the Radar YA 2021 #16 | 3 YA books for you 📚
This week's #UnderRadarYA showcases 3 different books for all tastes and with ratings above 4 stars ⭐ #BookBlogger #Booktwt
Under the Radar YA is a Sunday weekly feature of little-known YA books turning one year this week. How does this work? 📚 The books featured on this little-known YA books list have less than 150 reviews on Goodreads and were published one year ago this week.📚 There are no sequels featured, only standalones and first books in a series.📚 The list used for reference is YA Novels of 2021.📚 I’m not…
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jazzzzzzhands · 16 days
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I honestly just wanted to do something a little bit messy and experimental in coloring! So just trying to get my groove back on with Groovy!
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voluptuarian · 2 years
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GOD I would like to eventually publish my fiction someday, but I want to be sure it’s in a way that is the opposite of the Twitter/booktok/why is this YA author reviewing disney movies on youtube/celebrity writer personality thing
and like, I think making sure the content in my stories a. doesn’t fit popular formats (”fiesty” heroine who hates being a girl, love triangle-centered, I’m-an-outcast-as-a-shortcut-for-character-depth, characters who exist to tick off a diversity checklist) and b. putting in enough sex and violence that nobody can market me for adults who don’t want to rise above a 6th grade reading level will help that somewhat
but have you noticed male writers aren’t being packaged like this? The closest I can think of to a twitter-era-online-personality-author equivalent for guys is like, the auteur figure who writes really niche or intellectualist shit or is just an edgelord, but even then it’s like, I have a black and white author photo and a twitter, which I use to occasionally discuss current events, other writers, or to say that women are people once every six months (and I’m not talking about like, rock stars who end up publishing a book or something, I’m talking purely authors) or the avuncular or edgy grandfather types who are usually also Super famous (like idc Neil Gaiman)
like I want what current male authors have, I want to get published and be successful and for my books to be enjoyed and respected, I want people to read my stuff and be like “this book was great” and have no idea what I’m like beyond “lives in Indiana and owns 2 dogs”
#like if I HAVE to have social media#I want to do a Megan Whalen Turner and just have my tiny tumblr where I reblog fanart#and talk about what historical sources I used as inspiration and NOTHING else#and I think weirdly for male authors the more famous they are the more celebrity presence/less private life they have#whereas for women authors I think it's the opposite#like even as famous and online as margaret atwood is how much does the average person know about her personally??#or deborah harkness??#meanwhile all these less successful-- mostly youth market-- interchangeable female authors are like 'lets discuss my entire family history#my various marginalized identities and how I use fanfic tropes to empower my middle school self'#and must have celebrity opinions on everything and broadcast themselves everywhere#basically I'm not seeing 20 and 30something male authors selling me their books on tiktok#if it's happening it's happening somewhere completely under the radar for me#meanwhile dozens of women in panda onesies are constantly hyping their new YA novel#something something women and minority authors must sell their identities and not their work something something#like let me be the old school fantasy author who wrote a dozen bestselling series about the most bizarre shit ever#meanwhile you'd never seen their face and they didn't even use their first name just seven sets of initials#like you only get to know about me if I'm god-tier famous and then I'm using my fame to get my fave historical buildings restored#barring that I don't exist
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miss-floral-thief · 3 months
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gurl
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justisco · 1 year
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ibanez, underrated 🐓
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trulyhblue · 3 months
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write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more
Back To You
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Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.
A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!
__________________
Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.
You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.
But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.
You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.
You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.
“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.
Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”
You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.
Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.
“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”
You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.
You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.
“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.
“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”
“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.
You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.
Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.
“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”
You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.
“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”
“Yes.” You muttered.
Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”
You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”
“Good.”
You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.
You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.
The whistle blew, and you were off.
Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.
You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.
The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.
You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.
You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.
You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.
The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.
“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.
Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”
You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.
You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.
Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.
You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.
The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.
You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.
On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.
You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.
You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.
“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”
“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”
Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”
You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.
The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.
Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.
Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.
The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.
It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.
“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”
“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.
“I'm not the one always falling—”
“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.
You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.
You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.
“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”
The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.
You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.
“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”
It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.
Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.
The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.
The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.
Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.
_
The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.
“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.
Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”
“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.
“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.
“That was years ago, Kerr.”
Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”
Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.
Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.
Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.
“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.
“You did so well today, baby.”
You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.
“Want to show you how proud I am.”
She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.
“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.
“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”
“Niamh, I—”
“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”
You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.
You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.
When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.
You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.
“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.
“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.
“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.
You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”
“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”
“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”
“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”
She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”
Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”
“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.
“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”
“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”
Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”
When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.
Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.
“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”
“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.
Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”
When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”
“I am! Just want you, though.”
Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.
This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.
She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.
You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.
When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”
“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.
“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”
You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.
“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”
You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.
“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”
Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.
“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”
Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.
“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”
You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.
“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”
Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.
But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.
You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.
The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.
You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.
The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.
You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.
“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”
“I was so close.”
“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”
“Niamh, that’s—”
She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.
She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.
“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”
She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.
“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”
“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”
When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.
“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”
“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.”
She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.
“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”
“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”
You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.
“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”
“Fuck, baby, say my name.”
You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.
The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”
Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.
“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.
You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.
“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.
You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.
Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.
“We’re not done yet, love.”
You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.
_______________________
A/N — oh my god.
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taupewolfy · 2 years
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ok that being said i still have my eyes on thirsty suitors 👀
that’s like....and extremely good and fun looking game
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constantmourning · 8 months
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Choke Me
Summary: The men of TF 141 figure out you like being choked.
Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI! Choking, not too descriptive but still very much 18+!
A/N: GN!Reader for this one! Also did this on mobile at work, so it's not beta read. Sorry for any mistakes dhsbbs Let me know do you want one of these for like Konig or Alejandro or anyone else!
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It had been a joke. Really. It was harmless. You got bratty when your boyfriend was upset with you. "What? Are you gonna spank me?" You questioned him. The look you received was one of shock, from everyone. One of your friends, who was also part of Task Force 141 took it into his owns hands to help you handle the situation. "I think you should choke them." He snorted. Your head snapped towards him. He continued, "Actually don't do that either... They would love that too."
While it had started as a joke. It surely would not end as one.
Captain John Price: He is in shock! How did he not know? Is a little confused on if it's really a joke so he asks about it later in the bedroom. Voice all husky and full of lust. Says he was gonna spank you, but could definitely choke you if that's what you're into. Even if you're being a brat, you deserve to get what you want after all. He wraps his hand around your throat while he fucks you and the way you come undone immediately is very hot. Price is very good at what he does. He is very skilled with his hands. You learn that quick.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick: Is probably slightly apprehensive when it comes to this tbh. At least the most apprehensive out of the bunch imo. Literally does not want to harm you in anyway, especially on accident. He asks about it and when you nonchalantly tell him you do like that he does want to try it, but is very careful with it. "Remember our safe word?" He asks, you sitting in his lap. When you nod and repeat it to him, he gives you a nod back. You are in his lap, riding him, when his hand finds a home around your throat. The way you immediately come undone, your eyes rolling back, clenching around him?? He is hooked.
John 'Soap' Mactavish: is a little freak in the bedroom. But didn't know you liked being choked. Is immediately up for trying it with you. He is tied as the least afraid of asking about it when you get back to the bedroom. "Is it true? Ya like being choked?" You nod. He is so down for trying literally anything. So as soon as you give the 'okay', he is on it. He has you pinned to the mattress, railing you, his hand slides up your chest and grabs for your throat. You react immediately. Mouth agape and mind blank. The way your whining and mumbling has Soap whipped for sure. Will definitely be going that again.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley: Is surprised he didn't know you liked being choked. Like genuinely. Y'all aren't very vanilla in the bedroom, so that going under his radar was shocking. Is tied with Soap on who's least likely afraid to ask about the remark. Would spank you for being a brat earlier, and ask about the choking thing while spanking you. Simon is Very consent oriented so he will be getting all the consent before doing Anything. But as soon as he is given the okay? You are pinned to the wall, him plowing into you, his hand against your throat. He can't help but tell you how good you're being for him, causing you to absolutely lose it. Simon, like the other guys, is most definitely looking forward to more of that.
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malerek · 11 months
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Under Radar YA 2022 #18 | 7 YA books for your week 📚
Under the Radar YA is a Sunday feature of little-known YA books turning one year. How does this work? 📚 The books featured on this little-known YA books list have less than 150 reviews on Goodreads and were published one year ago this week.📚 There are no sequels featured, only standalones and first books in a series.📚 The list used for reference is YA Novels of 2022.📚 I’m not recommending any…
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chaosandmarigolds · 18 days
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okay it has been the longest time since I've asked for a request but I freaking LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE!! So I have a Simon riley request. You can really run off with my idea and write it however you want but Ive had an idea in my head about Simon and the reader adopting because reader or Simon can't have kids and I want to know how he'd handle a kid who's probably been thru some stuff to end up in the foster/adopting system.
ANYWAYS ILYSM keep up your amazing work 😍😍
(no cause I actually screamed omg thank you so much for your kind words they truly mean the world to me <333 )
Adoption! Simon Riley Who had zero doubt on that he wanted children with you, even though he was terrified of failing them he wanted to try
Simon Riley! Who took you to all of the doctors appointments and the testing and the trails and never once mentioned how expensive it is
Simon Riley who was probably the only person a bit more crushed than you when the doctor told you both that it wouldn't be possible to have children of your own.
Simon Riley who let the matter go under the radar for a few months before you walk into the bedroom, tablet to chest
"i'm gonna say something and I need you to be open to it."
He blinks a few times as he sets his book down on his lap, "Should I be scared?"
"No. But..." You hold out the tablet, showing him the adoption application you had half filled out, "I mean there's thousands of kids who-who need a family an-and-"
"Finish it up, why don't ya- lemme get the bank statements, yeah?"
Simon Riley! who would rather go back on deployment than have more people walk through his home while making judgments on if it was 'child friendly'
Simon Riley! Who sat up with you every time you were waiting for an update, watching easy going bake shows on the sofa with the laptop email service open on the coffee table in front of you
Simon Riley! Who was a little bit disgusted when the agent sat you both down with the files of children in need, because he did have half a mind to just take them all
"Now I know you both told me you were looking for a baby, and I understand that however the waitlist for that is incredibly long and ultimately it is the mother's choice in that situation," The agent's eyes go to Simon, almost as if to say 'no mother would ever choose that' and she pushes the file to you, "And I always push for the adoption of some of the older kids. There's no pressure."
Your eyes narrow to the folders in front of you and you gulp down, hands shakily going to the folder in front of you and pulling it to your lap, all the while you could tell Simon was just still a little confused by the statement the agent had made before. However, you humored it, flipping through the photos and the tragic backstories that made your eyes water, until you open one that caught your attention, two children sat in the photoinsteadd of one.
Name: Macey-Ann Adams
Age: 11 years
Name: Taylor Kate Adams
Age: 24 months
"Si..." You didn't tell that your voice was muffled by a bit of tears and you hold the file over to your husband, who looked over the pictures, taking you slight interest. So he lightly takes the file and then looks up at the agent.
"These two?" He speaks as softly as he was able to.
The agent looks at the file and then a frown appears on her face, "Macey, she...she's a troubled girl, on her fourth foster home, and she's jumping schools, I would not recommend her."
with a shuttered breath you breath out, "But...but she's just a kid- can...can we meet her and Taylor?"
Simon Riley did extensive research as soon as he got home, finding the articles from the local newspaper on the two girls who were so severely abused by their father that they wouldn't look the police officer in the eye
Simon Riley who was beginning to think it wouldn't be a good idea until they met the girls at the local park
Simon Riley who saw so much of himself in that little girl it made him almost puke
Simon Riley who got over himself when he saw your beaming face as you held Taylor, helping her get the cherry blossom from the tree
Simon Riley who would be lying if he said he wasn't estatic when you were approved for the adoption
Simon Riley who tried to get to know Macey but the girl was quiet, self suffiecnt, she was him
"You're taking Taylor." Macey mutters as she sits on the swing, watching you with her baby sister
Simon squints against the sun and sits down in the swing beside her, and then he looks to you, a smile on his lips for a moment, "Not jus' her."
To that the eleven year old looks at him, a frown on her face, "What? People want babies. Taylor is a baby."
There was a long silence and Simon looked down at his boots, "You like trampolines?"
Macey blinked, "I do."
"Gonna buy you a trampoline for the backyard when the court says it's all over."
Another pause, "You're taking both of us?"
"Figured you'd wanna stay with your lil' sis."
"I-kinda....thanks, Mister Riley."
"Simon. You can call me Simon, or...whatever you wan, and' we gotta get a move on your sister was wan'n a ice cream."
Simon Riley! Who takes careful care in helping Macey unpack
Simon Riley! Who takes the girls shopping every weekend until he thinks they have everything they need
Simon Riley! Who loves his girls more than anything else in the world
( I hope this is good and honestly this is so cute I may write a more in-depth one shot type of thing. Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah! that's it <33
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celenawrites · 5 months
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John Price is a natural leader.
Always taking the lead on the field and off duty. Always confident, self-assured in his abilities to guide himself and others through difficult situations with ease.
He's always so worried about his team - slipping in some antihistamines in Gaz's pockets whenever his dust allergies kick in and make his sneezes ring out on base at ungodly hours, making sure Johnny doesn't end up recklessly in another communal mess 'fight'', and checking up on Simon after a rough mission drains all life out of his blue eyes, leaving him dull and mute from the trauma of surviving another war.
He never forgets to wish his teammates birthday, always tries his best to push them to take extra leaves so they can visit family and rest after an arduous mission, and even indulges in their frivolous past times, if only to make time pass by easier.
He always remembers to send Kate and her wife flowers as a 'thank you' for hosting him for dinner, never forgets to call Laswell and congratulate her on successful jobs, and makes sure to send the finest bottle of wine for letting some of his 'rebellious actions' go under the radar.
So when he finally comes down with the seasonal flu, you take it upon yourself to reciprocate the generosity he graces everyone with - not letting the man leave the warm, soft bed as you tend to every need of his throughout the day.
"Sweetheart, get back to bed. I'll be fine", John tells you but his stuffy nose makes his voice sound more nasally than usual.
You tut at him, recalling his high temperature, "I cannot laze around while you're suffering and need me, John. Now let me take care of you, and put the cold compress on."
"Yes ma'am."
You run around, from room to room - arranging things and making sure to check in on your dear fiance to make sure he's not in pain while you prepare some home remedies for him.
A herbal mixture you make him drink for his sore throat, which Price downs with a small wince; changing his cold compress with a new one so he can rest comfortably. Turning down the lights so that his eyes don't smart anymore, and he can actually take a nap around noon while you work on lunch - chicken noodle soup and warm porridge that can warm him up from inside and are easy on the stomach - recalling every little trick your Mum did whenever you got sick.
And when you finally come back in the room to find John sleeping, you take a moment to breathe calmly as you slowly admire him. His flushed cheeks, freshly-trimmed mutton chops, his freckle on his nose and how his nose scrunches up while he's deep in his sleep, and how oddly comforting it is - to have him in your home, to see him resting after months of separation and knowing that he possibly hasn't slept this peacefully in ages.
"Take a picture, darling. It'll last ya longer", calls out a raspy voice, followed by a dry chuckle.
Felling your ears warm up at being caught by the very object of your attention, you promptly deflect, "Oh, shut it, you big dork. Lunch's ready, if you'd like to have it."
"With you?" John asks rhetorically, with a small fond smile on his face.
"Always."
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drowningmist · 3 months
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"𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾.."
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The first time you met Mitsuya was when you were there to pick your brother from school.
"'Neesan"your little brother calls out as he saw you and wobbled on his way towards you. You crouched down infront of him and patted his head.
"Woah. You seem excited, made new friends?"
Your brother nods pointing back towards a cute girl with pink hair.
"Her name's luna! Luna look she's my 'neesan" the little girl slowly came towars you with sparkling eyes as if admiring you.
"Your 'neesan's an angel" she mumbles cutely making you smile and ruffle her hair.
Your lil bro huffed cockily "told ya! "You chuckled shaking ur head at these kids but the next thing you heard made you frown.
"My 'neesan will like her"
"yeah and you'll get a big sis too and me a big bro" they both clapped there hands.
"Woah Woah what's going on in that tiny head of yours?" You lightly flicked your brother's head and luna was bout to say something before a voice stopped her.
"Luna!"
You three turned your head towards the voice noticing it came from a boy your age with lavender hair.
"He looks intimidating .."
He bent down and pinched the said girl's cheek softly.
"so you were here huh...don't roam around on your own"
"but i was doin you a favour! Look i found an angel for you"
It was then that mitsuya finally noticed your presence and looked at you.
You being the not so friendliest person on earth smiled at him before getting up and grabbing your brother's hand ~planning to run away~.
He stared at you before smiling back
"Don't mind her words she's always like this" he said ruffling the girl's hair who seemed to be his lil sister .
"Uh i dont mind, my bro is also like this" you smiled softly looking at the two younger . "Looks like these two have become good friends".
"Well she wasn't wrong bout you being an angel" Mistuya winked at you making you shrug your shoulders with a "ikr" expression and chuckle as you were a flirt yourself.
...................................................................................................
Since then, you two started having little conversations here and there when picking up the little ones from school.
Sometimes he would invite you to his house showing you his croquis sketches and pieces of half made toile which only made you admire him more and encouraged him in his dream to be a fashion designer in future.
You also got to know bout him being a delinquent and a member of toman. It was hard to believe at first as his behavior was too gentle for a delinquent , you thought.
One time when you came to his house excitedly to show him your sketches of clothes and for some criticism as you were an artist yourself , you were greeted by a swollen-faced ,full of bruises , mitsuya with wrongly tied bandages and only then it finally occured to you that "yeah he is a delinquent ".
From then on , You became his personal nurse as he lacked in the taking care of himself department and his mom used to be out of town for work ,so why not?
Sometimes during tending his wounds or sketching various designs together, there were few moments of tension which you used to brush off by you making him flustered failed like when you were treating his lip wound , you looked at him mischievously and poked his lower lip.
"Should i kiss it ? It will heal better!"
"yeah with the tongue please"
"..."
ahem so yeah you were left with your mouth hunged open, no comebacks making him smirk. Mind you it's mitsuya takashi for fuck's sake-
Overall, It was all fun and games until your stomach became a florist, attracting butterflies everytime mitsuya was under the radar.
Man..and how when you tried to compose yourself infront of him , he fucking had to smile so beautifully making you melt and evaporate.
To confirm it, one time, Mitsuya came home late at night, parked his bike after coming from the gang, standing infront of his door sighing at the thought that he still needs to cook dinner and put his sisters to sleep, he opened the door only to be greeted by a delicious smell.
."huh..?" He thought making his way to the kitchen and meeting eyes with you wearing his apron washing the dishes.
"You.." his shoulders slumped in a relaxing state .
"I knew you had a fight with the other gang so, i came over and flexed my delicious cooking to luna and mana and uk i also made-
He stopped you mid way by back hugging you transferring his body weight onto you, wrapping his arms around your waist loosely, he breathes out a sigh tickling your neck.
"Thanks..." he words tiredly to which you faintly smiled and hummed in response.
"Staying over.?"
"Yup.."
"Good"
He rests his chin on your shoulder.
"You look like a wife"
"Then should I say "Welcome back honey"?.." you joked, removing the gloves after being done with the dishes. He backs away from the hug giving you space as you removed the apron.
Finally, you turned towards him fully only to see him rummaging his pockets before taking out a piece of cloth.
"wait...its a sample, the one you have been trying to get for your toile."
"How did you get it ?"
"To remind you, I'm the president of the sewing club, asked the girls there to order this one, planned to give it to you later but here we are."
He hands it over to you, smiling so gently ,that was the time, you confirmed, you wanna protect this man..
So yeah, you realized that you liked Mitsuya Takashi.
But you did little to nothing bout it as you figured there's something mutual but internally feared that this is only platonic.
Until on 26th dec, after the Christmas incident with taiju, you heard hakkai whom you met through mistuya whisper to you bout how he doubts that his big sis, yuzuha might have a crush on mitsuya..
"You sure it isn't you hallucinating?" You frown.
Hakkai groans " no and i think taka chan likes her back beacuse he hugged her there".
Boy, how your heart dropped to your stomach.
"I-It was just a hug, no big deal".
"But in taka chan's case it is! Have you seen him hug any female besides her sisters? And he is affectionate towards her too"
As if you weren't getting anxious before now you were succesfully in a foul mood. As much as you don't wanna overthink hakkai's philosophy, your doubt has been sprouted.
"What if you were just being delusional and there's nothing mutual between you two.? What if he really likes yuzuha then you shouldn't come between them"
So when mistuya asked you to go with him to the new year eve's shrine , you declined him as yuzuha was also coming and your heart wasn't strong enough to see him with someone else.
"Any reason as to why you dont wanna come..?" Mistuya inquired aware of the change of mood of yours these days.
"I just don't, okay" you said as you called your brother, who was busy playing with luna and mana, you used to tag him along with u to see mitsuya's, so that he can play with his sisters and ~u can have an excuse to see him"
"Let's go home now bub" you grabbed your bro's hand, preparing to go but mitsuya stopped you from doin the motion by grabbing your wrist, smiling softly at your brother and signaling him to go play more, he turned towards u with a stern expression contradicting how his hand gently grabbed yours, grazing his thumb on your knuckles.
" you seem to have something on your mind these days..wanna talk bout it ?"
You hissed wanting to yell in frustration but your words came out as a mumble.
" i told you its nothing..and you can't fix it anyway..."
The way his hand tightened around yours made you look at him. He cups your cheek softly looking at you with a concerned gaze.
"If it's bothering you then it's not nothing, Shutting me out won't solve it. You only visit now when in need of samples and you keep acting like you're looking for an excuse to leave. "
"So? Is there any other reason for me to visit?"
He frowns " You know there is.."
Your face turned soft. "No i don't "
He didn't speak anything further and just stared at you silently
You sighed. You knew he won't stop until you tell him what's wrong.
"Fine...Hakkai told me that yuzuha likes you..and "
"And?"
You looked away trying to ignore his intimidating gaze
"And you also like her"
He chuckled
"So that's it huh.."
You looked at him confusedly
"What.?"
"The one yuzuha likes is not me, it's Takemicchi "
"Huh? "
Before you can make any reaction he pulled you closer making you gasp
"As for the later one. I thought i made myself clear with the actions, didn't i?
You just looked down
"So you coming for the festival.? " He raises his eyebrows .
"..yeah"
"Good" he ruffled your hair before pulling away
"Damn you hakkai I'll kill you"
...................................................................................................
New year's eve, 11:30pm
"Where are we going..?"
You asked mistuya as he, out of nowhere dragged you away from your friend circle.
He stopped after making sure you both are out of there sight especially his lil sister's. He looked at you smiling cheekily.
"Yesterday about our discussion, i had a strong urge to make it clear to you but our siblings were there,..so i had to hold it"
He cups your cheek with one hand , pulling you closer with another.
"But now I can't "
He kisses you, where he pecks you a thousand times and you just stand there giggling with your face squished in his palms.
"I .better. not. hear. you .say .shit .like .this .again". He whispers between the kisses.
You smile in the kiss.
"Okay"
After a while ,you pull away from the kiss looking at him unable to control your smile.
"Your sister was right about you"
"About..?" He asked trying hard to suppress his own grin.
"That her neesan will like me"
He smiled widely before closing the gap between your mouths again.
.....
....
Few feets away were standing two blond teenagers staring gawking at you two shamelessly while putting a hand infront of the younger one's eyes to stop them from seeing their olders like this.
The tall one sighed. "Man, I guess I'm the only one to have no luck with girls. "
Takemichi looked at his partner, chifuyu, and smiled secretly looking at the sky
" It's not long before chifuyu meet her..."
Takemichi is a time traveler afterall.
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 8 months
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"Could ya try to be less conspicuous?" Daryl drawled, smiling. He glanced sideways at you as you made your way through the somewhat crowded entryway.
You shot him a confused look. "What?" You glanced down at yourself as if you expected to see a neon-sign hanging around your neck or something. "What are you talking about?"
"Look, I dun wanna be here in the first place, so if I gotta, I'd like to fly under the radar and have as few dumbass conversations as possible. Tha's gonna be hard to pull-off with everybody lookin' at ya."
You felt your cheeks flush. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not doing anything!"
"Yeah, ya are," Daryl said, slipping his arm around your lower back, his palm landing flush against the graceful lower curve of your spine.
"No, I'm not!" you argued, heat still blooming in your face.
"Yer beautiful and more than half these people can't take their damn eyes off ya. To be fair, neither can I."
"Shut up," you murmured, blushing even more furiously. "You had me thinking I was doing something wrong!" You pushed him playfully in the chest and he let out a gruff laugh.
"Nah. Just bein' you." His hand landed gently on your hip. "Guess all I can do is make it perfectly clear that yer already taken. And if I gotta fight somebody, then I'll fight somebody," he joked.
You leaned in against him happily. "Shush. You know I could never want anyone else but you."
Daryl's expression turned more sincere. "I still can't believe ya say anythin' like that, to me of all people..."
You gave him a somewhat sad smile and tucked yourself in against him more tightly. "That's why I keep saying it."
Prompt: "Could you try to be less conspicuous?"
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multi-fan-dom-madness · 2 months
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Lessons in Anatomy and Affection (Hunter x reader)
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Summary: You decide to put Hunter's anatomy knowledge to the test.
Warnings: 18+ minors begone, here be smut; f!reader, unprotected PiV, creampie, switch!Hunter and switch!reader, teasing, lots of teasing
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Hi guys! I'm alive! I meant to post this months ago, but I've been busy, so with the new TBB season finally airing, I figured this would work now. Enjoy, ya heathens. (If you've sent me an ask, I've seen it! My inspiration has been very low lately, but it's on my radar <3). Originally a gift for @vimse
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Hunter exhales a shuddering breath as you blow a stream of cold air over the stripe you’d just licked up his neck. His hands rest lightly on your waist, his touch warm and comforting, and you delight in the way that his fingers dig into your side just the slightest. Throat bobbing with an audible gulp, Hunter turns his head to find your gaze. His eyes are half-lidded and blown with lust already, and they gleam in the soft, warm glow of the fairy lights of your bedroom. His dark curls splay around his head in a halo. 
“Cyare,” he rumbles. 
You shush him gently, pressing your lips to his. Under your wandering hands, the expanses of his bare, toned body flex and ripple, goosebumps trailing in your wake. Mouths moving together at a slow, unhurried pace, you can’t help the soft moan that escapes you when you curl your hand around his stiff length. 
“Kriff,” he breathes. “N-Need to touch you, cyare, please.” 
“I know, Hunter,” you murmur. Trailing kisses down the opposite side of his neck, you lavish extra attention to the sensitive spots you know drive him crazy. When you’re rewarded with a shaky sigh, his head tilting away from you to grant you better access, you smile against his skin. “But you have to wait. Think you can do that for me?” 
After a moment, his hands fall away from your sides. Pulling back, you study his features. His teeth worry his bottom lip, but his eyes find yours again, steady and dark and desperate. In the twinkling fairy lights, Hunter’s skull tattoo shifts and dances; though you know its base function is camouflage, to you, it’s always been beautiful. 
Glancing down the rest of his body as he’s stretched out on your bed, your mouth waters. The tattoo drips down the entire left side of his body, every bone etched into his skin with precise and accurate detail, from the large, sturdy femur to the smallest, most fragile phalange. He’s always been beautiful to you. And when he’s like this, relaxed and pliant, his beauty is nearly radiant. Anticipation curls in your lower belly and nestles deep, tightening your core with desire. You remove your hand from his cock before you lose track of the game you want to play. 
“I need to hear you say it, love,” you whisper, cupping his face. 
“Please,” he says. “Whatever you want. Just so long as I get to touch you at the end of it.”
“Always.” Pressing a sweet kiss to his chin, you shift so you can kiss down his body easily. “Ready for the rules?” 
Hunter nods.
“Good. I’m going to touch parts of your tattoo—” You ghost your fingertips over the inked-in fifth rib as if to prove your words “—and you’re going to name the correct bone. Get them all right, and you get your reward.” 
His nipples stiffen from your touch and the sultry promise of your words. “And if- if I miss any?” 
Tweaking one of his nipples, you hum while you think. “Miss one, and you can only hold my breasts. Miss two, just my hips. Miss three or more, and you don’t get to touch at all while I take my pleasure from you. Understood?” 
“Y-Yes,” he gasps out. His hips stutter up in anticipation.
Sitting up, legs tucked under you, you let your gaze wander Hunter’s form once again. Sweat has already begun to collect in the dips and valleys of his muscles. At his sides, his fingers twist into the soft cotton sheets in anticipation of the sweet torture you’re about to enact. His chest rises and falls with deep, labored breaths; at the apex of his thighs, his cock bobs gently with each beat of his heart. 
When he begins to fidget, you take mercy on him. 
“What’s this one?” you murmur, trailing your touch along the gentle curve of one of the tattooed ribs. 
“Third rib,” he answers immediately. 
“Very good.” Featherlight, you glide your fingers across his heated skin. “And this?”
“Sternum.” His voice is only the slightest bit shaky.
You move up to his throat and lightly tap the bisected cervical vertebrae that covers the central bump of his throat. “This?” 
He swallows, his throat bobbing under your touch. “C5.” 
Delight skitters over your skin at the way that his voice has already begun to drip with raspiness. Catching your lip between your teeth, you take a steadying breath, trying to ignore the way your pussy flutters with need.
When you’re ready, you move on again. You sweep your thumb in a soothing semicircle over the swell of Hunter’s shoulder, and wait for him to answer.
“Th-That’s the scapula,” he says, a waver in his voice. “The front edge of it.” 
Warmth rushes through you, a heady mix of pride and lust. “Very good, Hunter.” 
Tired of simply touching him with your fingers, you shift down on the bed to press a kiss to one of his arm bones, lips warm and soft against his skin. 
His breath hitches. “Radius.” 
Another kiss to the other bone earns you a sigh of, “Ulna.” 
A pleased hum vibrates through you. Bypassing his hand, you shimmy lower still on the bed to place a kiss to his kneecap.
“P-Patella,” he rasps, voice catching.
Gazing up at him for a moment, your mouth waters at the way that he’s not even looking at you. His neck is strained and his eyes are squeezed shut. Closer at hand, precum beads at the tip of his cock, practically begging to be licked. Tempting though the idea is, you force yourself lower yet again.
You target one of the tiny bones of his foot, and flick your tongue against it. A groan punches out of Hunter’s chest as his fists tighten in the bedsheets. Mouth working, no words sound from him. 
You lick the tattoo again. “What’s this one called, love?” 
“I- I don’t know,” he admits. 
“That’s too bad,” you say, words full of syrupy regret. “One missed. What does that mean again?” 
A strangled sound claws from Hunter’s throat. “It— It means I can only touch your breasts.” 
“Good boy,” you murmur. Pressing a fresh kiss to his foot, you smirk against his skin. “Now, tell me this one.” 
Chest heaving, Hunter squirms. It takes him a long, tense moment, but finally he gasps out, “Second metatarsal!” 
“Atta boy.”
Crawling up his body, you intentionally let your hand brush his cock. 
“Fuck!” he swears, voice cracking. “Please, cyare, please.” 
“Please, what?” you say. Tilting his face to you, you search his expression for any hints of distress. All you find is desperation and need. 
“Please, just...” He swallows thickly. “Need you.” 
“Just a few more, love,” you promise, “then I’ll give you what we both want.” Skimming your knuckles over the blank space of his cheekbone, you raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Tell me this one, Hunter.” 
“Skull,” he says, but his voice is hesitant, guarded. “Zygomatic.”
You kiss his opposite cheek, humming your approval, then reach for his inked hand. He releases the sheets to let you lick a thin stripe up his entire pointer finger. “In order.” 
His hand squeezes yours. “Distal, middle, proximal phalanges.” A shuddering breath leaves him. “Then the metacarpal.” 
He’s done so well for you; you just need one more answer from him. Your own arousal is getting more and more difficult to ignore as slick makes your thighs slippery. Nudging his wrist with your nose, you make sure your breath fans over his skin, warm and comforting. 
“Trapezoid,” he breathes out.
“Oh, Hunter,” you coo, brow furrowing in mock pity. “I’m so sorry, that’s not the right one.” 
“W-What?” His head shoots up, a frantic look in his eyes. “Yes—it is, look it’s—”
He points to the one you just nosed over, frown overtaking his features. You let him process the information for as long as he needs—which is a few long moments, given the way his irises are nearly black and his skin has retained its goosebumps for several minutes now. When you see the realization dawn on his face like the sun, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. 
“S’okay, love,” you mumble against his mouth. “That’s the trapezium, but you were so close. And you can still hold my hips while I ride you.”
A broken groan slips from Hunter, but his hands immediately fly to grasp at you. Swinging your leg over his waist to straddle him, you catch his gaze and hold it as you line his cock up with your dripping entrance and—
Matching moans echo throughout your room as you take him inside you. Dropping your forehead to his, you lower yourself inch by inch onto his cock, until your pelvis rests flush with his hips. No matter how many times you take him, it’s still a stretch, his cock filling you in ways that make you feel complete. Whole.
“Thank you,” he sighs, eyes locked onto yours. His nails are blunt but no less painful where they bite crescents into your skin. “Stars, you always feel so good. So warm, so tight.” 
Bracing yourself with your elbows to either side of his head, you roll your hips instead of answering him. Hooking your feet over his powerful thighs, you set a lazy pace, driven only by the intense, burning need to make him finish with you. His hands never stray from your hips—always a dutiful partner, always willing to listen and follow orders to their conclusion—but even so, his touch burns into you, scorching your very soul. 
You turn your head to rest it on his shoulder, working your hips a little faster. “I love you.” 
“Stars, I love you too,” he murmurs. His fingers squeeze your sides. “Love this pussy, too.”
Chuckling, you flex your core just to hear him grunt. “That all?” 
“‘Course not,” he says. He’s close; you can tell just by how clipped his words are, how strained his voice is. “Love your ass. And your thighs, your tummy, your hands—f-fuck—your eyes.” 
His words drive your hips faster, making you chase a release that suddenly rears its head. Pleasure thrumming under your skin and sliding through your veins, you moan at his praise. You bite into his shoulder, whining. 
“Love how you take care of me,” he continues, voice softening. “Love the way you care about us. I just love you, cyare.” 
“Maker,” you gasp out. “Hunter, I- I’m—” 
“I know, mesh’la,” he murmurs.
His grip turns almost painful as he takes control, dragging your body back and forth over his. Toes curling, your moans muffled against his skin, you delight in the way that he knows exactly how to move you, to make you see stars. 
Somewhere in the symphony you two compose together, of moans and sighs, whimpers and groans, you find the edge of shattered bliss. Hunter can feel it, and he presses his hips up into yours just enough to shove you right over the cliff. Body locking up, you cry out for him, walls fluttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. Pleasure burns through every nerve ending; your ears ring, vision black at the edges for a moment, as you let Hunter give you what you both needed. Through the haze, you’re dimly aware of the way his hips falter as he cums, too. Warmth spilling within you, Hunter pants against your skin, nails digging into your flesh.
When you both come down, you raise your head to meet his gaze. His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. 
“Hi,” he murmurs. 
“Hey,” you mumble. Sleep already begins to curl around your senses. “Thank you.” 
He releases your hip to cup your face. “What for?” 
“I dunno.” Biting your lip, you offer a smile. “Just being you.” 
Hunter brings you down to kiss you, a sigh of, “Always,” fanning your lips.
Because Hunter is your always, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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pinkroseblooms · 2 months
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i just started Bucchigiri and love your stuff!!! 😭 Can you do one for Matakara having a crush on a new transfer girl? She wears the boys uniform and a hoodie over her head so she doesn't get attention. He only finds out cuz she helped treat his wounds after a fight once and it's been their secret ever since
Thank you so much! Hope you like this!
Just Between Us
Matakara/afab!Reader
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Summary: Matakara takes it upon himself to befriend the new introverted transfer student and develops a crush, unaware they're both keeping secrets from the other. wc: 2.2k a/n: no warnings, mostly just fluff and a few swear words. reader is afab but I personally written them as being gender fluid. I also headcanon Matakara as bi disaster. Enjoy!
You yawn, barely paying attention as your teacher goes on about something to do with…history? English? Biology? At this point you don’t bother keeping track; no one else does. Usually everyone in your homeroom is openly hooting and hollering over the lecture; on good days, most of the other students are zoned out or passing notes, not even attempting to be sneaky about it.
Speaking of, a folded up card gets flicked on your desk; you look, puzzled at it, and back to your seatmate. On your right is Matakara Asamine, smiling patiently and pointing to the paper.
You roll your eyes but smile back; he has your number, the two of you could easily have a whole conversation over text if you wished to. Still, you open the little piece of paper and read what Matakara scribbled: he’s asking if you want to see a movie after school. You stifle a chuckle and write back an affirmative, deliberately sliding your hand over the surface of his desk; after he reads your answer, Matakara pumps his fist silently in a display of excitement. Your profile is obscured with your hood up and your head turned, so you hope he doesn’t see how wide you’re grinning. 
It’s only been a few months since you transferred to Ichizu and you’re grateful to have made a few decent friends; with the district's reputation, you hadn’t expected to do much in the way of socializing. You weren't particularly street smart or experienced in self defense even: you were one of the few students who fell into the “harmless wallflower” category. There were a handful of kids at school who were like you; they just sort of walked around, didn’t speak much, and were largely ignored by the majority of the school populace as too weak and plain to bother with. 
The Minato Kai and Siguma members mostly kept to themselves, interested in their own rivalry and their own personal circles of friends and acquaintances. Normies like you were mildly entertaining to mess with, and while you did get some teasing and the occasional shove in the hallway, you had sufficiently flown under the radar.
At least, until Matakara Asamine decided he wanted to make you his friend. From the beginning you were surprised, but not especially wary. The general opinion of Matakara was that he was strong and had integrity, two traits that Minato Kai prized; his revered older brother would surely be proud, who you had also heard good things about. With all that in mind, you didn’t hesitate too much when Matakara and his friends asked you to sit with them to eat or tag along to the batting cages. Frankly, you let everyone else do most of the talking; it was fun though. You genuinely enjoyed the company and Matakara shot down any attempts to get you to pledge with their gang. 
“What are we going to see later?” You ask as you take a seat next to Zabu, handing him the manga he had lent you a week prior. “Sorry it took so long, I lost it in the pile.”
“Eh, you can keep that if you want.” Zabu scrunches his nose at the volume, sliding it back towards you. “I’m not into that sappy shit.”
“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Why’d ya buy it?”
“I heard it was supposed to be good, but it was cliche as hell.” Zabu shrugs, jabbing his elbow into Sakegaki’s side; said boy had been reaching his chopsticks into Zabu’s bento to nab a piece of grilled meat. “What movie? Are we going to see a movie?”
“Um-”
“Hey guys!” 
Matakara almost startles you with how loudly his voice booms; he plops down onto the bench next to you. “Sorry, the bread line was crazy today.”
“Figures, it’s half off day. What’d you get?” Zabu asks curiously.
“Yakisoba, here,” Matakara takes one of the sealed baggies of treats and puts one on top of your plate. “I owe you for last time, your favorite is the melon bread, right?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to.” You add. “Thanks though.”
“No problem.”
Lunch period comes and goes and you completely forget to ask what movie the four of you are going to see, but it doesn’t bug you much. You don’t really mind if it means you get to sit by Matakara again; the last time you went to the movies with him he had shared a bucket of popcorn with you, whispering into your ear every now and again to comment on something. You spend the rest of the day hoping you’ll be able to sit next to him again, maybe have one of those moments where your hands touch by accident. Zabu doesn’t know what he’s talking about in your humble opinion: if it was up to you, your school life would be one big, romantic comedy cliche, and Matakara would be the male lead.
Except, as things are now with you passing for a boy, you’re pretty sure your role as of now is the quiet friend, the awkward loner adopted by the popular kid. Not a bad deal all things considered, but it makes having a crush something of a pain in the ass. Still, you’ll take some yearning on your end if it means you can continue going through your school days mostly unnoticed and unbothered. The fact of the matter is presenting as a girl is a hassle; even the toughest girls in your class have to deal with being pursued and bugged by obnoxious wannabe casanovas who think they’re the earth’s gift to women. 
So far, you haven’t had any risky encounters: the gender neutral bathroom, dirty and falling apart like everything else in the school, helps avoid your secret getting out and you skip changing for gym because…well, pretty much everyone else does anyway and the teachers don’t care. You can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t keep passing as a boy until graduation; not to mention, the boy’s uniforms are comfier. 
“Where’s the guys?” 
It’s the late afternoon and you’re changed into baggy sweats and battered sneakers; inside your jacket are four packages of candy picked up from the convenience store you’re presently loitering outside of to sneak into the theater. Matakara is late; you’re about to text him when you hear his voice calling out to you. Down the sidewalk, Matakara is running your way, smiling wide and out of uniform; as he reaches you, your eyes widen.
“What the hell? You’re bleeding man.” You step up to him, craning your neck to get a good look at the cut over his eyebrow. “What the hell happened?”
“Ah, one of Siguma’s guys challenged me on my way here.” Matakara raises his fingers to the small gash. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize his kick landed that hard.”
“Matakara, hold on a second.”
“Where are you-?”
You rush into the store; in three minutes you’ve returned with a box of bandages, a small bag of cotton swabs, disinfecting ointment, hand sanitizer, and a bottle of water.
“What’s the water for?”
“Flush out the wound. Some of the blood’s drying.” 
You make Matakare sit down on the wooden bench on the side of the building and lay out the supplies. He watches you silently as you pour some of the clean water onto a swab and begin to carefully wipe off the dried blood, soaking up the bit that’s still oozing. Matakara is obediently still and doesn’t wince as you swipe a few dabs of ointment over the injury after sanitizing your hands properly. 
“You do this a lot?”
“Nope.” You confess, handing him the bottle of water. “Here, have some. It’s always a good idea to drink water. I’m gonna put the bandaid on; can’t believe you didn’t realize you got hit so hard.”
“I was kinda in a rush.” Matakara’s hand dwarfs the plastic bottle; he’s looking down a bit guiltily. “Sorry I was late. I thought it’d be over quicker.”
“Well, the guys are late anyway, so it works out.” You gently smooth the bandage across his eyebrow. “There, it should be fine. Are you sure you don’t feel dizzy or anything? Maybe we should skip the movie.”
“No!” Matakara says, sitting up straight. “I’m totally fine, seriously. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I should be the one saying that.” You sit next to him with a sigh. “Don’t apologize; I’m lucky you want to hang out with me at all.”
“Of course I do! You’re fun to be around and you’re a good listener and you’re really-” 
Matakara stops talking; he suddenly looks away and takes a sip of water. You stare at him, a bit flattered and a lot confused. Matakara's been acting a little off all day come to think of it.
“Should I text the guys? You told them where we were gonna meet, right?” You check your phone while Matakara finishes the water. “Think they went straight to the theater?”
“Um, actually, Sakegaki and Zabu aren’t coming.” Matakara tells you; he scrunches up the bottle and tosses it cleanly into the recycling bin next to him. “You don’t mind, right?”
“Oh. No, it’s cool.” You’re not lying but now your curiosity has peaked. “Is everything okay with you guys?”
“Yeah, nothing wrong.” Matakara says quickly. “If you want I can call them, if you’re not comfortable with it being just us.”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“Because…” 
Matakara’s hands are clasped and he’s still looking at the ground; he looks troubled and you feel bad for pushing the issue, whatever it is, but something is definitely wrong. 
“I don’t mean to presume.” Matakara begins slowly, measuring his tone. “It’s none of my business, but I, um, when you got close to me, I kinda felt…your chest.”
You stare at him blankly; Matakara’s cheeks flush and he finally gives you a ‘look’. 
“Oh.” You blink. “Shit. I guess you found me out.”
“So, you were born a girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you…?” Matakara averts his stare. “Wait, sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, you’re fine. The thing is, it’s just kind of easier to pass myself off as a guy, ya know?” You pat his shoulder. “So, would you mind keeping it between us? Honestly, I don’t really care if people see me as a guy, girl, whatever, but it would make my life easier if you didn't go telling anyone else.”
“A secret?” Matakara perks up. “Between us?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure!”
You’re a bit taken aback; you know Matakara’s a nice guy and all, but you didn’t expect him to be this easy going about your charade.
“You can trust me.” Matakara puts a hand over his heart. “I can swear it in blood.”
“No, no more bleeding!” You blanch at the thought. “Dude, it’s not that deep.”
“I know, but it’s just nice.” Matakara rubs the back of his neck; he’s beaming at you, eyes crinkling in the corners, cheeks flushed. “You know, we’re always around other people or you go off on your own; when we are together, you don’t say much…I feel like we haven’t actually gotten a chance to really know each other, so I like we have this thing that’s only for us. Does that sound weird?”
“A little, but I see what you mean.” You tug the strings of your hoodie so it closes more around your face. “If you want, we could do this more.”
“This?”
“Hanging out,” You clarify, voice softer than you mean for it to be. “Just the two of us. If you want.”
“Then, it’s okay I didn’t invite the others? You’re not uncomfortable with it?”
“I probably feel the most comfortable around you, Matakara.”
You chance peeking out and realize you’re screwed: Matakara is leaning over, right in your face, eyes glued to your face and almost shining. He radiates warmth, like he’s trying to make you gravitate closer to his side, unknowingly pulling you toward him.
"Really?"
Actually, it’s more like his hand is placed over yours and he’s moving his face close to yours; for a moment you and Matakara stare at each other mutely. His hand covers yours and you don’t feel uncomfortable but your heart might actually combust inside your ribcage from how tenderly Matakara is gazing at you. 
“Do you really mean it?” Matakara breathes, voice almost like a sigh. “Can we go to the movies now? Just you and me?”
“Uh huh.” You nod dumbly, swallowing the spit you didn’t realize was pooling from glancing at his lips. “I, um, bought candy for everyone, four of them.”
“More for us.” Matakara smiles brightly, standing up; he’s yet to let go of your hand. 
“Works for me.” You don’t try to pull your hand away, allowing Matakara to pretty much lead you down the sidewalk in the direction of the theater. You’ve never seen him act almost childishly eager and his attitude is admittedly infectious. “Let’s share a popcorn bucket, it'll be less expensive.”
“Yeah, we should split a drink too.”
Matakara looks back, and you can’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as your cheeks grow hot.
“…I’m gonna have to watch out for you.”
“I don’t mind. In fact,” Matakara is grinning a little too innocently for the look he’s giving you over his shoulder. “You can look at me all you want.”
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weebsinstash · 4 months
Text
fuck my life but I realized if you make a venn diagram of "all the different ideas I've had for yandere Valentino" with "shit Mammon would probably do or has already done canonically" it would basically be a fucking circle and I haaaaaate that because now it means this selfish australian bastard is under my radar
You damage something when you fall into Hell and be stuck in servitude, working off paying the bill? Uhhhh obviously the greedy money scam guy would do that! Tack on extra bullshit charges like late fees, or charging you more than the damage is worth? Definitely just an excuse to keep you around longer.
Grifting pervert who will exploit you for cash? Mam and Val are brothers in arms. You could be working for Mammon as like A JANITOR and one day this fucking clowning hustler pops up, "oi so, remember that employee contract I had ya sign? So, about that fine print--" and you find out you accidentally like CONTRACTUALLY AGREED to giving him your likeness, and he's been fucking sexbots of you on the fly, just, shamelessly. Is he even selling them for profit? No. They're just for him. Tells you to your face. Lets ya see em. Acts like you're full of shit and tweekin if you even mildly insinuate this means he wants to fuck you and the robots are just a placeholder, that's ridiculous, shut the fuck up, you're uggo, why would he want you
Abusive alcoholic misogynistic pigs who will cut you down and take shots at your self esteem to neg you into obedience? Literally fucking canon. Valentino did it constantly on the Instagram accounts and also does it in the Angel Dust comic, and we saw how Mammon treats Fizz
Both of them would call you a cunt although for wildly different reasons lmao
Absolutely always walking the mental tightrope of "would they pimp you out just for cash and maybe the cuckoldry of it or keep you to themselves" but I think on the off chance Mammon decided to "advertise" you, he would be EXCESSIVE with it. Whatever would make money, but, he's, also totally using it to make and do things for hinself. Sex bots, dirty magazines, photo catalogs, calendars, lingerie lines, ridiculous unrelated sponsorships. You're over here absolutely humiliated while he's thoroughly enjoying his new collection of naughty memorabilia of you. Honestly either of them could do this honestly. I've even thought of the hilarious alternative where shit of you doesn't even sell but Val/Mam/Ozzie whomever decides to keep peddling it anyways because they're obsessed with their baby and they want to show em off to everyone with eyes that can see em
and who can forget the classic... "oh, you just died, poor baby ;) well I could give you a place to sleep for the night, but ;) you'd have to ;) earn it ;)" and whatever you do that night becomes potential blackmail
If I had a nickel for every time there was an abusive perverted four armed creep who exploits their workers for money and sex down in Hell, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it sure is kinky it happened twice
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