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heyidkyay · 1 month

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Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU

Matty x marketseller!reader

Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...

Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)

“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”

Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents.

I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back.

With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went.

“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”

Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”

I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest.

A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.

See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid.

It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.

He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.

“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.

It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.

“Here we go then.”

I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach.

“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”

Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent.

“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”

I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”

His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.

“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”

I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”

Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”

I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now.

With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.

The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.

It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale.

Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.

I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe.

“Looking for something specific?”

The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.

“Their ‘86 album?”

His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting.

“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”

He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.

I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.

With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.

“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”

I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”

He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”

My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”

“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.

“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”

When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.

I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”

His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”

Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot.

I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip.

Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.

“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.

“I’ll take the lot.”

Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”

Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.

He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”

The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.

“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.

“Anything will do, love.”

I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.

He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”

My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged.

“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”

My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”

He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same.

When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in.

I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened.

I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged.

I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back.

Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place.

(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)

Matty.

“What you smiling at, weirdo?”

I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face.

“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket.

“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.

“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.

“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”

“Tetchy.”

I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside.

“You coming then?”

With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”

…

My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.

Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.

So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around.

I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying.

He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.

I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.

‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.

Still, today more than made up for it.

The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.

Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too.

I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.

“You!”

Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie.

“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”

The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”

Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met.

“Got any more tapes for me then?”

My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”

He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that.

I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”

Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin.

“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”

“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet.

“What I said, in’t it?”

He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.”

“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”

I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”

My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”

“Rob?”

I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”

Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.

“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.

“Give me one of your favourites.”

“Mine?” I blinked.

He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him.

I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow.

I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view.

Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.

Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music.

“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”

Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”

He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again.

I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”

With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.

“You play?”

“Hm?”

My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”

His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”

Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”

Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”

He quirked a questioning brow.

“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”

I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”

“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.

Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”

His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”

“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”

Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”

“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”

Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.

I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”

And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him.

“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.

#the 1975 #matty healy #x reader #fluff #flirting #humour #fic #writing #plot #matty #the 1975 band #y/n #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #reader #oneshot #imagines #heyidkyay

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neteyamsyawntu · 5 months

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Kinkmas Day 02

T i t t y F u c k i n g

Ao’nung x Na’vi!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, vulgar language, smut, titty fucking(duh), dirty talk, lactating, pregnant!reader

Original Ao’nung art by @Cinetrix

Being pregnant with your second child seemed to come easier to you and your mate this time around, having learned much from your first pregnancy, your mate had no issue going out of his way to attend to your needs, the only difference now being that Ao’nung performed them without you having to ask for support. It’s like he was a different person when you were pregnant, of course he was always attentive and protective of you before, but it’s like he pushed himself beyond his usual boundaries.

Any walls of pride he kept up for one reason or another before you became pregnant with his child, now crumbled into rumble the moment he found out the news. Of course you couldn’t allow your mate to work tirelessly for you without giving him some sort of reward, right? So when you had anchored yourself down to your knees in front of him after putting your first child down to sleep for the night, he found himself almost utterly dumbfounded, yet the eager twitching in his tewng depicted he had been withholding his true desires from you.

Sexual rejection was something he had learned to cope with as well. It’s not that you didn’t have the drive for it, but more so that it was never the right time, either your body would be aching in different places, or your first born would take up both of your attentions. “You’ll stay quiet for me won’t you, ma’Nung?” You whisper as your delicate fingers loop into the band of his loincloth, slowly shimmying it down his thighs. “W-wait, really? Right now- ohhph… shit yawne…” his fumbled over works are broken the minute your tongue meets his cock. Your eyes half lidded as you lick up the length of his shaft in one fluid movement, before taking him into your mouth, mentally smiling to yourself when the fingers of his left hand fist themselves into your hair, gritting his teeth before releasing the tension in his jaw to steady his breathing, trying his best not to moan out load and risk waking your baby.

His eyelids fluttered as you took him nearly entirely into your mouth, sucking hard on his cock, conflicted between closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling after being neglected for so long or watching you make a pretty little scene for him as you sucked him off, that before pulling your mouth off of him completely, forcing him out of his thoughts, his thick tail swaying slowly behind him in anticipation, his whole body almost seemed to tingle with it.

A cocky smile morphs its way onto his lips watching as you adjust your motion slightly, straightening your back and grasping your swollen tits in each of your hands, moving to sandwich his cock in between them, “Why don’t we try something new, hm?” You muse, adjusting yourself once more before letting the buildup of saliva in your mouth drip onto the head of his cock from your tongue, just to add that extra bit of lubrication. “Eywa, what did I do to deserve you, woman?” Ao’nung hums slowly reeling his hips back, watching the tip of his cock disappear into the cavern of your breast before reappearing with a simple thrust.

It’s this initial thrust that has his eyes drifting shut for a moment before opening them again, his pupils almost completely dilated as the hunger in his body rises to the surface. The sight alone makes your empty cunt wish it was stuffed full of him more than anything right now. The soft push and pull on your tender breasts as he thrusts with a bit more eagerness, was strangely comforting, working to massage both his cock and your tits equally. Your own eyes flutter closed for a moment at the relief, until a firm grasp at the underside of your jaw prompts you to open them again.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, paysyul. You look so irresistible…” the underlying growl in his tone has you clenching once again, a faint blush playing on your cheeks when a sudden unfamiliar wetness catches your attention. Both of your gazes falter down to your breasts only to catch beads of white milk leaking from your nipples. “Uh- ma’yawntu, I’m sorry I-.” A bashful gasp breaks from your throat at the moment Ao’nung grabs your wrist as you are pulling away from his pelvic region, “And why is that, yawne? It is just a little milk…” his words rumble in a deep hum, removing him hand from your wrist and running his thumb over your leaking nipple smearing the liquid over the bud as his eyes methodically watch how the substance wets your skin, “Making a mess on my cock…” he groans teasingly before lifting the digit to his lips, making a display of dragging the pad of his thumb down his tongue, licking up your milk with confidence that practically oozed out of his pores, “Makes you look so damn pretty…”.

You stare up at your mate speechless, heart practically pounding in your ears and face growing hotter by the second as you watch him squeeze both of your breasts around his cock, producing more milk, dribbling down his hands and onto his dick, “Fuuuck…” he growls, licking his fangs with a cocky smirk before suddenly thrusting his cock between your swollen breasts once again. The warmth of your milk running down his shaft, was just the lubricant he needed to really get him going, your flustered expression being the cherry on the top, keeping his eyes glued to you submissively kneeling in front of him as he begins a steady rhythm of fucking your tits with ease.

Tag list: @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @oakbuggy @plooto @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @hikari-michiko @neteyamssyulang @blue-slxt @c-townes @loaksxhoe @xstarsdiary @neteyamswillow @akoyaxs @neteyxmsgirl @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @zafrinaxyz @neteyams-wh0re @neteyamyawne @kiri-tuk @beauitful-brown-skin-05 @akoyaxs @neteyamsstuff @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @ntymavtr @luvv4j4ybe11

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatarsmut #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung smut #aonung x y/n #aonung x female reader #lactating kink

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officialabortive · 1 year

Text

Bull!bakugou x calf!reader (platonic)

a/n: calf!reader is the equivalent to a teenager, and is almost fully grown. At the age horns start growing in.

You'd found an old —and obviously reused— worn fleece blanket back in the trailer that had previously transported here. It had been set out for you, splayed across the trailer floor for your comfort. But you're no longer in the solitude of an isolated tin trailer, instead being crowded by cows and a handful of bulls.

Now you stay trembling beneath the grey fabric, it being the only barrier between you and the barn full of cattle wanting to get a look at you. Of course a simple blanket served no actual protection, but nonetheless it gave a much needed sense of security.

From the outside, all that could be seen of you was a bit of hair and the tiny horns that just began growing. As soon as you had been carried out of the trailer, Bull!bakugou knew you were a part of the heard. His heard, and he'll be damned if a member of his heard wasn't ok. So he slowly approached, sitting in front of you while being sure not to make any noises that may potentially scare you. He scooped you up -blanket and all- feeling the way your entire body tensed at the contact, and gently place you on his lap.

He waited until he felt you relaxed a little before using two fingers to pinch the edge of your fleece shield, slowly moving it away from your face. The sudden amount of bright light proves too much for your sensitive eyes, so you quickly found another way to block out the sunlight.

You pull yourself into something that felt warm, safe. Face buried in the crook of bakugou's arm hugging his forearm to keep it close as possible.

Bakugou could feel the puffs of your breathing against him skin, noticing how abnormally quick and shallow the puffs of air were. The art of soothing a calf wasn't exactly one of his strong suits, the cows always being the ones to take on the task. But of course he remembers how his "old hag" would calm him when he was just a little bull calf.

Deciding to test his mother's methods, the blond bull repositioned you -and the blanket- so your forehead rested against his broad chest. But you never released bakugou's forearm from your stubborn grasp. Leaning his head down, bakugou licked stripes across your fuzzy ears. The act of grooming usually comforted anxious calves, and feeling your body relax against his confirmed it was no different for you. The more he groomed around your ears, the more you melted into him in a newly found contentment. In the brief moment of bliss your ears didn't even pick up the sound of chatter going on around you.

But the sweet moment was unsatisfyingly short. It barely took any time for him to finish the session. But by the end of it your fluffy fur was silky as ever.

There wasn't even enough time to process a thought before he rose to his full height, securing a firm grip on you to ensure your safety. It was impossible to see where he was bringing you with your face still buried in his chest, and there was no chance of adjusting out of the comforting position. All you could hear was the sound of heavy hooves against the ground and a deep grumble of "don't fucking follow me" followed by incoherent mumbling.

You had no choice but to let go of his warm skin when you had been set down once more. This time on a mutch softer surface. You couldn't help but to let your eyes wander, inspecting the new area. It looked to be an individual stall, an extremely large one at that. The floor was covered in a thick layer of bedding, with pieces of furniture scattered here and there. Finished with an area holding piles fresh hay and a basin of clean water.

Bakugou plopped himself down beside you, and as soon as he did two hands grabbed his arm so you could press a cheek against his firm muscly arm. "Oi, the name's Katsuki bakugou, I'm in charge here. Some say the farmers and farm owner is in charge, but that's bullshit. And there's no need to be so damn nervous. Nothi'n here is goi- THE FUCK!?."

He was cut of mid sentence by the feeling of nibbling on his arm. It's a common action done commonly by calves, but he still wasn't expecting that to happen completely out of the blue. Also it was usually the more troublesome calves that possessed that troublesome habbit. From what he had been seeing so far, you were nervous and had a shy demeanor. So your sudden pesky nibbling caught him way off guard.

A strong huff and slight shake of his horns posed as an obvious warning, basically saying knock it off. It worked, you had instantly pulled your teeth away now with your head leaning against him instead. Of course it worked he's Bakugou fucking Katsuki, he's in charge.

"Well you're getting pretty damn comfortable huh? Dose that mean you w- FUCKING HELL! You little shit." While at first you headed his warning, it didn't take long for your mind to discard it. Going back to nibbling on his thick skin. His outburst had you flinching back in a mix of shock and... anger? No. Maybe this was annoyance.

So just as he did moments ago, you huffed. He never intended to upset you but he wasn't going to say it out loud, so he gave a couple licks instead. A caring gesture that made your face visibly light up. It seemed that had been the key to calming you down.

It had been a few days since your arrival and you've had a steady adjustment to life at the farm. Spending time getting to know some of the farmers and pretty heifers. Still following bakugou wherever he wandered, even to the sparring matches between the bulls. Fascinated by the way horns clashed with horns in a display of uncomprehendable power.

To all the bulls amusement, you tired it out for yourself wanting to fight like them.

After stomping and huffing as you'd seen the bulls do countless times, you had gotten a running start, head tilted forward as you trotted directly toward one of the bulls legs. Aiming for the redhead bakugou just finished wrestling around with. But when your comically small horns made contact with his oversized leg, he didn't budge at all. Staying still as a rock while the backlash had you stumbling backwards and landing tail-down on the grass.

Kirishima grabbed your waist and lifted you back to a proper standing position. The two of you had already been fairly well acquainted, as to why there was not much -if any- hesitation in attacking him.

"Hey that was pretty good for your first try!" Kirishima tried to reassure you, but it was hard to believe a word he said when bakugou and kaminari were practically cackling in the background.

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the0racl30fd3lphi · 1 year

Text

More than friends, a little more than lovers x.t. (p.2)

a/n: all the love you've given the first one literally makes me want to cry. i've never felt as seen and appreciated as i have when in my writing, so i really appreciate you all. i thought it was gonna flop but i just wanted to put my work out there. so here's part 2 i guess 😭 i also only ever seem to write when i'm so tired my exhaustion is seeping out of my ass i love you all.

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: nevermore's favorite "tortured" couple has separated and the school walks around on glass waiting to see the outcome.

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda) light swearing? not much tho, suggestive themes

word count: 1,858

part 1 part 3

——————————————————————————

It'd been three weeks since you and Xavier fell out of contact, in a way. You stopped stopping by his dorm nightly, you packed a smaller lunch, you sat next to anyone else in the classes you shared. And that little box? Kept under your bed? No new additions, still a secret (bar Val) but a little more dusty.

Every few nights or so, Val would catch you turning to face it's direction. You'd twist you'd turn, you'd reach but it'd falter. Your arm falls back down and you'd turn around in the other direction. Soon you stopped taking care of yourself as well. Obviously while keeping up appearances so no one bothered you. Val noticed though. She always knew what was up with you before you knew.

On the other side of the spectrum Xavier wasn't doing so well himself. Almost every night he spent at Ajax's dorm, crashing on a chair so not to oppose his roommate, or at his art studio. Turns out deep in the woods with nothing else but his feelings and his art, really sparks the inspiration.

His inspiration was you. Ceiling, to wall, to floor it was you. Any part of you that he remembered was everywhere. Nothing to disgrace your dignity, of course. The only dignity getting ruined was his. If anyone saw any of his work recently they'd call it a stalker obsession with you. He hated himself for not noticing earlier. For losing you. Every night he remembers the week you pulled away. Then he remembers the months before that when he pushed you away.

——————————————————————————

"Hey, how were classes?" He ran up to you after catching a glimpse of you in the halls.

"Fine," You said so quietly he almost missed it.

"You okay?" The slight crinkle between his brows made your stomach turn in a good way and a bad one, you couldn't do it anymore.

"Great." With that you disappeared.

——————————————————————————

You opened the door to Botany class, the overbearing replacement for Ms. Thornhill welcomed you when you showed up right after class was supposed to start. Mumbling an apology, your eyes caught Xavier's and he nodded with his head for you to sit down.

Instead of taking your normal place by his side you sat down next to Yoko far away from him. You spent the whole class period ignoring his gazes and attempts to get your attention. You had sped so fast once the bell rang to leave a gust of wind passed by you.

Twisting and turning through the corridors to make it to your next class a gentle hand gripped around your elbow and pulled you into the empty classroom next to you.

"What's up with you?" Xavier closed the door behind him and moved to stand next to you.

"Nothing's up with me," you tried to turn and escape him but he blocked your path each time.

"Somethings up," he grabbed your arm to keep you in place. "First you don't show up last night and then you don't sit next to me in class? What's going on?" His head kept moving to try and place itself in your line of sight.

"If you don't know what it is by now, it's obviously nothing!" Trying to keep yourself calm you rip your arm out of his grasp and ran out the door. To keep yourself hidden, you used the late Principal Weems ability and shifted into a random student so he couldn't recognize you.

Xavier rushed out of the classroom and stood in the hallway, getting pushed and shoved students annoyed he was blocking the way. If you were even there, or turned back to see him, you would've noticed the way he searched for you. The way his head shook as he rubbed the back of his neck. The sound a nearby locker made after the front of his boot made connection with it. The groan that left his mouth as he rubbed the top of his shoe trying to bring circulation back in his toes.

——————————————————————————

"Hey Xavi! How you doin'?" you asked so positively, smiling widely and so radiantly. Looking back now, he wished he could have actually seen your face. Looking back now, he wished he actually looked at you. All he can remember was anything from his peripheral. Which is not a lot.

"I'm fine," he mumbled looking down at his phone, and then all around him. He was restless.

"Fine as in bad or fine as in good?" you tried to press. You shuffled and adjusted so now you were laying upside down next to him.

"Fine as in fine." He looked down to his phone once more, and the clock struck midnight. And just like Cinderella and her shitty little shoe, he ran to the window and opened just enough to hear...

Wednesday.

Wednesday on her dumb little cello.

It was unfair that she was so talented, so good at playing the music. Of course he adored her, who wouldn't?

"It's so... melodic," Xavier basically swooned out the window. Remember those cartoons, when the character smells a pie or something and floats around following the aroma? Welcome to the dumb stupid look on Xavier's face.

"She's playing the melody of... the Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 remixed with Lady Jane by The Rolling Stones that's why its melodic." You looked at him like he was genuinely and idiot. "It's written to sound like that."

He completely ignored you.

——————————————————————————

Classes were tense. It was even as if the teachers knew something was up, which they probably did. You couldn't tell if it was comforting or strange how the distance between you two effected the school. At least you knew you weren't crazy now, other people thought they had something too. You're not alone in your delusion, yippie.

It was night again, and you fell into the same delusional habit as you did every night. Yet this time Val said something.

"Doll, I adore you. You know this," She starts pulling you down onto her bed as you walked passed. "So all of this is out of love, get your shit together!" She smothered a pillow into your face and laid her whole body weight onto you.

"Which shit this time?" You rolled her off you and slapped her in the stomach.

"The Xavier one," she turned over to face you.

"Oh for the last time-" You started before it earned you a solid slap on the arm.

"Shut up you're literally living in a pipe dream, Xavier is everything to you just kiss and make up already! It's painful to watch you sulk like this," Val squeezed your cheeks together and slapped the side of your face.

Tapping right back into your favorite mimic powers, you quickly grew a two fangs and your eyes glowed red as you barred your teeth at her. She hated cringe acts that felt like they came right out of a CW show.

"Yes, please, bite me my mystical dark overlord!" She pretend purred at you and slapped your stomach once more real hard. Hard enough to make you groan and suck the fake fangs right back in. "I'm a vampire slut, you can not scare me with my own tactics."

That night, you turned on your side once more and thought, maybe it was a good idea to pursue. That night, when you considered floating that little box under your bed that felt so scary to think of, you did. And you traced the outlines of a photo you drew of him, watching it move and watching his smile grow as he turned to face the foreground.

——————————————————————————

Maybe it had been three days since you considered making up with Xavier. Maybe you still hadn't done anything about it but consider, that's regardless of the point now.

It had been however, three days since you unblocked him and stopped throwing away the letters and drawings he sent you begging to apologize.

You looked at him once. In class, across the room from him you felt his burning gaze fester on the side of your head. So you looked. And his eyes widened. And some color rose back in his face. And the corners of his lips twitched up. And his iris' got smaller as his pupils widened at the sight of you.

It felt like a dream, right out of a movie scene. Damn Mr. Winston and his last 30 minuets of free time in this dumb poetic writing class. He was young, he understood what it was like to be in high school so he was very laid back. Because of this your headphones were in, and your women-crush-Wednesday (no pun intended) Taylor Swift played in your head. Wonderland.

She really could write something for every situation you could find yourself in. Xavier and his student green eyes and that cheshire cat smile. Caught in this trance, staring in his eyes, you nodded. Quietly you mouthed, Okay.

The life that filled his whole body at your silent confirmation was enough to fill you with a sense of hope. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe the situation was much more different than you thought.

"tonight?" he texted you quickly. "9pm?"

"nightshade library." you sent back.

He looked back up at you and smiled lightly, sadly.

A new type of ecstasy filled your veins at the prospect of tonight. Things will change, you hoped. Things will change, you were sure of it.

——————————————————————————

"Okay, I'm going." You breathed out standing in front of the door. The handle felt menacingly cold when you reached for it.

"Wait, love wait!" Val stumbled out of bed and twisted you around to face her. Smoothing out your clothes and fluffing your hair, "I am so proud of you my girl. This is insanely brave of you, now go, go!" She kissed the top of your head and pushed you out the door.

"Fuck him senseless! Don't let that skinny white boy top you, you're better than that!" She called out after you before shutting the door. You could hear her cackle from down the hall and you yourself laughed. Headphones were your saving grace at this point, calming the inner monologue.

The walk felt eternally long and frighteningly short. Way too soon you were at the statue, snapping twice, and walking down the stairs. He was already there. Xavier was pacing around in a line playing with all the rings on his fingers. Fidgeting was what he did when he was nervous.

The last click of your boots on the tile floor grabbed his attention. Maybe it was the lighting, but the second he turned around he looked worse for wear. You hadn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since he left for the summer last year, knowing he'd be stuck at home with his family, and away from you. Granted only until you two snuck away from your psychotic families, and ran away for the rest of the summer using your mimic ability to the fullest.

"Hi." You whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it. So familiar he prayed he'd never have to hear it again.

"Hey."

——————————————————————————

tried to get this part 2 out as fast for y'all as i could! so if you like it enough, a part 3 will follow with the ending i have not planned out yet. if you don't, the ending is left up to interpretation. did they make up? did they make out? did they fall further apart? who knows! ( i don't yet we'll see)

——————————————————————————

@animesimp3456 @iovaki @navs-bhat @hellllloooosstuff @555stargirl555 @quinn165 @raeboo @heehooyeslol @leyseyb

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #peter hynes white #wednesday

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

Omg omg HC to spare? Pls Toji lovingly and slowly seduces you and fucks you so intimately on the couch while you’re riding him to “come and talk to me” by Jodeci. The relationship started off as a one night stand between acquaintances, and now y’all fuck so frequently and so intimately. Locked eyes and pet names and praises that will make one would watched think y’all were DEEPLY in love 😩😩😩 pls you’re my favorite writer and I know I MF KNOW you’ll eat this shit up and make it art

honeyyyyy, I ain’t even no *huge* Toji girl (bc he still fine as hell, don’t get me wrong!) like that but what??? oh this is so sexy 😫 like this might be my awakening for this man!! May have to spin the block and do a full fic of this one day but yeah..

cw: riding, pet names (sweetness, doll, love) hand holding, praise kink

“Mmm..Toji, fuck!..right there, baby. That’s my spot.”

“I know, doll..oh god, you’re gripping me so fucking tight..”

the exchange between (y/n) and your long time lover entering yet another hour as the two of you engaged in various rounds of wonderful sex; inviting him over for yet another night cap that involved a little bit of white wine, wooing you with his sweet words, a massage and some sensual R&B music. Jodeci hummed through the speakers of the flatscreen mounted to the wall. Now here you were being impaled and bounced relentlessly atop Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock. That plump ass colliding and ricocheting off of his pelvis while your hands intertwined and balanced you in his firm grasp. That chiseled body and perfect physique lying underneath you; a giant smile plastered on his face from the smacking of your sweat slicked skin; the contrast of your tones flickering underneath the pale candlelight..it was the scene reminiscent of a romance movie. One that had been reoccurring for many months on end with it only improving every time. Learning and exploring one another’s bodies, falling deeper in love each time you make it. Tonight in particular was rather special, as Toji was just returning home from a business trip and the first person he came to visit upon touching back down was none other than you. Bearing flowers and gifts, he arrived at your doorstep; dressed in his signature black button down that exposed the chest, small silver necklace and black pants..his cologne wafting through your nostrils as well. All of which you had worked him out of by now, twirling the thin silver chain around your fingertip as you rode him to kingdom come. Obsessing over every square inch and crevice of each other’s flesh throughout the course of the night. “Toji, baby.. ‘m, so close..I’m gonna come again!” “Just keep going, sweetheart. Oh shit, you’re fucking me so good..” continuing to clutch hands as he began bucking his upward into you. That deep voice ringing out in your ear…shooting off expletives and singing your praises simultaneously. “You take me so good, sweetheart. Wrapping around my dick like this.” “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Oh God, you’re incredible.” Telling you all the sweet nothings to make you happy and even wetter than before. Filling you with every inch of him. The mixture of your messy climaxes seeping down your thighs and onto the cushions of the couch. But none of that mattered; only the time you shared with one another and having moments like this.

anyone from the outside looking in, they would have sworn that you and Mr. Fushiguro were a happily married couple yet it couldn’t be the furthest thing from..in fact, you were nothing more than acquaintances months ago. Practically perfect strangers if you were being honest. But that all but changed when a bad thunderstorm trapped you at his place one night. The two of you had just finished up a project for work and as you were heading it out, it began raining and lightning. Naturally, in good faith, he couldn’t allow you to leave in those conditions. So instead, he gave you a warm place to lie your head for the night and his face to sit on..making you come more times than you had in a lifetime. He was an excellent lover and always made sure to talk you through your orgasms..even taking care of you long after the sex was finished. If your busy schedules had permitted it, you’d make this little affair something more permanent. But for now, you’d enjoy things for what they were and let him have his way. Moving his grasp from your fingers to that waist, holding you still as he thrusted up into you. Muffled grunts escaping his throat..tossing his head back from the pings of pleasure exerting through that lower half. Twitching…throbbing while pounding your pussy. Molding you to his shape to ensure you’d want no one else but him inside of it when he finished..and that there was no other woman for him except (y/n) . Which he’d spend every waking second until the sunrise proving.

“Fuck..I swear I’ll always come back to you, baby. Always gonna be yours.”

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carionto · 7 months

Note

I like to think the humans ambassador hides black powder weapons around their office instead of Lazer guns or plasma, just walks about with 2 hidden flintlock pistols

You sir or madam or otherwise have given me the biggest grin with that idea, thank you.

(me from after having written it out) I did not know where this idea would take me, stream of consciousness writing will do that.

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

Every delegate of every integrated species aboard a Coalition governing station in their respective segment of the Galaxy receives full accommodations in the form of an isolated embassy structure.

One day, as per a Human custom, the main delegate - Ambassador Glenn York, invited several other delegates on a tour of his embassy. With some hesitation from a few due to their prey-like ancestry and associated cultural background, but ultimately won over by the Human's eager friendliness, they embarked on this little cultural exchange.

It was a little difficult to move about, as each embassy is adapted to suit the environmental preferences of the respective species, and Humans live on a high gravity and dense atmosphere world, so much so in fact, some of the less physically suitable delegates had to put on an exoskeleton, while many others required a breathing apparatus to thin out the poisonous air.

Once we were underway, Glenn showed us that the Humans were diligent in their work - acquiring information from and learning about all the various species within the Coalition, establishing communication lines with the respective counterparts in the disparately varied local government structures, and most importantly continually updating the translation modules.

In addition, we admired their art they had installed along the barren walls. Most, Glenn explained, was done by the delegates and their staff themselves during free time, and it ranged from tiny contraptions painstakingly assembled within a minuscule glass container (we did not realize they could hone their dexterity to such a precise degree!) to large murals covering an entire wall with the most vivid color and shape combinations one could imagine; from the very clear and obvious to impossibly abstract! Though the music they had to turn down - the vibrations of the thick atmosphere were beginning to overload the dampening systems and one of the delegates almost passed out.

Near the end of the tour, Glenn invited us into his office to show off what his "hobby" is:

"The boys and gals I work with are all talented people, but none of them appreciate the kind of craftsmanship I prefer. It's kind of a ancient art form, you see, high maintenance too, very delicate."

He pulls out a pair of ancient looking projectile weapons, at least judging by the shape, but none of us can quite grasp, aside from the trigger, how it operates. We are all silent as he pours some sort of fine grain from a small bag into the upturned tube then drops a small metal ball and proceeds to jam it further in with a cloth and stick.

"I handcrafted these myself. Sure, I could get a printer to do it and it'd be perfect, but perfection just ain't right when it comes to work of the soul, amirite? I find it therapeutic, to mold the shape, heat the iron, cast the shape, smooth the edges, straighten the barrel, carve the grip, roll the bullets, grind the powder... just..."

He lets out a long sigh of relief? satisfaction? euphoria? as he gazes with great affection at the pair of devices in his hands. We feel the urge to end the tour. Like. Right now. But Glenn insists on a demonstration. We hesitantly follow him to a largely empty room below where he sets up a couple of small wooden block on a pedestal. As he points one of the devices and is about to pull the trigger, he stops, looks back at us and says:

"Almost forgot, you'll want to take a few more steps back and turn your dampeners to max."

Heeding his advice, we do so, and after he appears satisfied with our... safety?... he returns his gaze to the wooden block and pulls the trigger.

[cacophony]

We awaken after a short while, the sturdier of our fellow delegates say the rest of us were out for just a few moments, but the ringing reverberation of the shockwave through the Human atmosphere still resonates throughout our bodies. Glenn, worry in his eyes, is apologizing profusely:

"Oh I am so sorry, I didn't think you'd still react so poorly. Is anyone hurt? I even put in less gunpowder than normal, but I guess that's still too potent. I--I'll file an official apology and compensate for any damages I may have caused to any of you. I will take full responsibility for this incident. Please do not think poorly of us as a whole due to the willfulness of one individual, it was never my intention to inflict any injury on anyone."

---Later---

After a thorough medical examination, it was determined that only a few delegates suffered a minor case of shock, which was alleviated rapidly at their respective medical stations. Ambassador Glenn York was reprimanded and sent back to Earth, a replacement will arrive shortly. The one permanent remnant of the incident is the wooden block that was struck by Glenn's pistol - now put on a small display in one of the inner rooms of the Human embassy. The bullet still embedded half-way and the splinters it shot out arranged in a chaotic manner, befitting an explosion, down in front.

#humanity fuck yeah #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #carionto #story

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epickiya722 · 10 months

Text

Being in a fandom, like BNHA (most active there) has taught me some things...

It doesn't matter if a person shares the same favorite ships and characters as you, if they annoy you, they annoy you. Block them.

Ship wars are a total waste of time. They're pointless. If someone feels that their ship is better, let them. Don't waste your time arguing about it.

It's a shock when a fairly popular character isn't your favorite.

Rare pairs deserve more love. They're fun, and if you like one, don't be shy about it. You might get others to join you.

On that note, there are some ships though that should never have been thought about, but given if the fandom is a huge one, at least two people have thought about it.

There will always be bad takes about the protagonist (and other characters). It may be surprising to you, but there are people with very off-the-damn-wall takes. Ignore them and move on.

It's illegal for some characters to be mean apparently.

There will be assholes outside the fandom who jump on the bandwagon of hating the material without ever engaging with it and only possibly ever met two people within that fandom. Block and ignore.

Expect people to take what you say and twist it around to make you look like the asshole. There's going to be at least one person who just wants to debate with you because they're bored maybe.

There are people who use "KYS" without thought. No regard for how you may be feeling at that time. They're an ass.

There are people who haven't finished the source material and think they're right. Don't spend your time arguing with them. Block them and move on.

Your mutuals may be mutuals with someone else you don't like. That's fine.

People forgot that opinions and facts are totally different. People will choose what they think and feel is canon just to shape the narrative into what they want. Ignore and block.

Okay, the block button is your best friend.

No matter how you tag a fic, there's gonna be one person who will take it out on you. You put the ship tags, they ignored them and want to be an ass.

Shipping is very popular. So if you mostly write friendships (and rare pairs), there's a chance you won't get as much feedback on a fic (or art) if you wrote a fic with a ship (especially a popular one).

On that note, you might get someone who will try to make the pairing you wrote/drew as platonic into something romantic. You have every right to be upset if it does upset you. Especially, if it was clear that you wrote it as platonic. Not everything needs to be romantic and some people needs to grasp that idea.

Take breaks for you! Take those breaks!! Take them!! And don't feel guilty about it! Take care of yourself!!

If you disagree with someone's opinion, that is fine. But do not reblog or comment under their post because you never know what kind of person that is. Write your own post if you feel the need.

That's so far what comes to mind about what I have learned. This applies to any fandom.

#just kiya's thoughts #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fandom

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unholyhelbig · 2 months

Text

Crescent 10/12 | Natasha Romanoff x Moonknight!Reader

Summary: When Natasha Romanoff takes a job as head of security for Dina Jackson she has an ulterior motive- to find the tomb of Egyptian artifacts that the art world is racing for. Dina’s disgraced niece is charming, awkward, and under the influence of Khonsu, the God of the Moon.

Warnings: This is 18+, if you are a minor I will block you. Fingering (r reciving), pet names, orgasm control, scars, mentions of pregnancy (Not what you think), suicidal idealations (in a martyr way), Car crashes, mentions of the afterlife, Dom/sub dynamic, horrible grammar

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“God, I need a shower” the words escaped Natahsa’s lips when the door to the hotel closed behind you. It was air conditioned in here, drying the sweat to your skin and making it feel tight, nearly unbearable. For just a moment, you missed the sandy dry heat that Cairo had to offer.

The ex-Avenger in front of you pushed the doors to the balcony open despite her words. There was a soft breeze that blew back the sheer curtains. They moved like phantoms, caressing her arms and her shoulders when she turned to you.

A toxic orange light caught the heat of the day as the sun began to lower behind the horizon. It illuminated her. Natasha’s silhouette reminded you of a statue that Dina had taken you to see when you were young; located in the Louvre. The Winged Victory of Samothrace.

White Parian marble expertly carved in the beautiful shape of a woman draped in cloth. Often, her form was compared to an angel. As angelic as the Greeks could form without a biblical translation. Wings stretched behind her, upturned to the sky. Her hand reached forward, stoney fingers grasping for something- touch, perhaps. The comfort of companionship.

Natasha reached her hand out to you now, and how could you possibly deny her? She blinked at you with deep emerald eyes that were so alive compared to the art, the statues and artifacts, that you surrounded yourself with. There was no death in her gaze, no thrumming orders from an ancient god that meant you no good will.

“Come here,” Natasha purred.

You did what you were best known for and obeyed. One hand snaked around your waist, the other splayed against your shoulder. Her forehead pressed close to yours. You breathed in Natasha Romanoff like she was the only fresh air in the pristine hotel room. Her lavender scent was so strong and grounding. You wanted to savor it.

“You can join me, if you’d like.”

“Hmm,” You hummed, feeling your brow furrow. You were much too deep in her subtle touches to register what she had said. Not for a few moments. Your eyes snapped open, and you pulled back enough to view her amused expression. “In the shower?”

She chuckled “Yes, in the shower y/n. If you want to, that is. We can take turns.”

“We should really conserve water. I’m pretty sure there’s a drought.”

Natasha made a soft noise in the back of her throat. Her smile gave her away, and so did her manicured fingers dragging down your arms. She stopped at your hand and pulled you along with her.

You recalled the first moment you met Natasha. It was in the bathroom of the apartment building your aunt called home. There was such a deep-seeded embarrassment that plagued you when the gorgeous woman caught you using hand soap to wipe away the musk of the journey there.

The two of you had seen each other, sure, but there was something intimate about what she was implying. Natasha had walked in on you changing your shirt a few weeks back. She’d seen the scars that pockmarked your skin, had averted her eyes out of respect. There was a silent agreement as she flicked on the water, that neither of you would turn away.

A slick type of heat filled the room and the sound of falling water eased your nerves. Natasha nodded so slightly, but you were close enough to see it. It was nearly laughable, how nervous you both were. There was an electric feeling that was building up in your chest. It felt like camp, almost, lifting your shirts in the darkness of a fire just to say that you did.

Your skin prickled when you did finally lift your shirt. Any trepidation you felt washed away when Natasha did the same. Of course, you knew she was going to be fit. She’s a secret agent, an Avenger, and before that… before that her muscles must have been carved from the same white Parian marble of the Winged Victory of Samothrace.

Her back was marred with scars that cut deeper than any chisel could. You watched her in the mirror, the way her shoulders tensed and then untensed when she settled. She was the most beautiful thing that you had ever seen.

Your breath caught when her fingers, cold compared to the rest of the room, found the discoloration on your shoulder. A bra strap cut through the middle of the burning mark. She diligently pushed it aside and brushed her thumb over the raised skin.

The mirror had fogged up, so you directed your attention to her eyes. She was frowning at the mark, moving her hand to cup your cheek. You took a step closer, hooking your fingers around the loops of her jeans to pull her flush against you.

Natasha’s fingers moved to the brass button of your pants, unhooking it with a practice ease that made you giggle against the small of her neck. You could feel her smile widen when your fingers found the latch of her black lace bra. You wanted to get your hands on her, get as close to her as possible.

When you kissed the side of her neck she sighed and pushed her head back, giving you full access to the curves and dips of skin. A small whimper escaped her when you pulled away, letting the strip of fabric fall between you. Natasha panted, her chest pushing out. You wanted so badly to palm her.

“No touching, malen'kaya luna.” she demanded in a low growl, instead, flicking her eyes to your own chest.

She was really going to make you do this yourself? The deadpan look she gave you was all the answer you needed. You had never moved with so much fervor before, stretching unnaturally until you found what you were looking for. When the bra fell between you both, exposing your top-half to the Black Widow. You beamed at her proudly.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

It was like a game of strip poker at this point; she removed her pants, you painstakingly focused on your socks, much to her dismay. Eventually the two of you were naked in front of one another, taking in the soft curves of your bodies, the softness of her skin, the constellations of freckles.

Natasha reached her hand out to you and led you into the shower, your breath mingling with the steam. The water burned for just a moment, eliciting a sharp gasp until you felt Natasha’s hands soothe over the warmth.

She closed the distance between the two of you once more, her tongue sliding against your lips, begging for entry that you folded into without problem. Her hands found your breasts and squeezed. You mewled into her mouth at the sensation, craving the way she swallowed the sound. You were determined to make her feel the same.

“We’re alone, right?”

Her words were a distant growl, nearly drowned by the flow of water. You went to nod, to respond to her, when her lips attached to the pulse point on your neck, she cupped your center in one fluid motion, applying pressure but not giving into your silent demands.

An unholy noise escaped you at the sensation and you tried to ignore how attractive the knowing smirk against your skin was. Part of you wanted to fight that sensation, and the other part- well, the other part wanted to crumble beneath her.

One salacious finger traced across your folds, brushing your clit and you swallowed back a shiver. Your nails dug into the smooth skin of her back, head dropping to her shoulder. “Natasha,”

“You’re so wet for me.”

“We’re in the shower,” You gritted out.

She gave you a playful frown “Well, in that case, I can just-“

Natasha attempted to move her hand, but you grasped at her wrist desperately, holding her in place. Her pupils were blown out, stealing the green from her stare. A hungry breath escaped her lips and fanned your collarbone.

“If you’re going to be that needy, darling, I’ll need you to beg for it.”

Beg for it? Ha! Beg for it. It had been two years since you’d been touched by anyone other than a magic wand that was tired from use. There was always a small piece of you that was afraid of Konshu’s lurid interruption; but even he respected your boundaries.

You weren’t one to beg, not really. Anything that you could do with another person, you could do with your own fingers. Though, with Natasha’s hand cupping your cunt, her other one raking perfectly manicured nails across water-worn skin, you would resign yourself to begging. Hell; you get on your knees and worship this woman if you had the chance.

Her eyes gave her away, that animalistic lust flashing like canine teeth dripping with saliva. The Black Widow was nothing, if not patient. She’d wait for you to decide despite knowing exactly the choice you had made.

“Natty,” you nearly whined, blushing at how desperate your voice had become. “Can you please fuck me. I want to come on your fingers.”

“All you had to do was ask,”

The words were whispered in her husky voice that drove you wild, yet, she only gave you a small moment to let her words wash over you before she inserted her finger inside of you. A moan moved past your throat at the sudden intrusion. Natasha’s lips were on yours, swallowing the sound.

“More,”

“More? Wow, you really are desperate. How long has it been, detka?”

Her question was punctuated by another finger. They curled into you, pumping in and out of your pussy with a stamina that could only accompany an ex-avenger. She was an expert at this, her touch reaching further than your own awkward efforts under the alien light of a perfume billboard.

“Nat, I’m going to…”

You gasped against her, nails digging into her back, tracing the curved line of her spine. You couldn’t possibly get any closer to her, your breasts pushed flush to her own. She groaned at the sensation and the sound alone made you want to lose control.

“Go ahead, darling. Come for me.”

Natasha’s words were enough to let you give into the building sensation in the center of your stomach. You let out a cry as you tightened around her fingers, riding them greedily through your orgasm. She continued to work them inside of you, nursing you down from the high. You were shaking against her. How could you ever think a vibrator was enough?

She pulled her fingers from your cunt and brought them to her lips, sucking your wetness from them with a satisfied moan. The sight alone was enough to have you craving more. But you had manners, you’d been nothing, if not loyal.

It was your turn to satisfy her.

Sleep refused to fall over you despite the nights various activities. Natasha was tangled against you, having drifted into unconsciousness. You’d both been worn out from travel- from staying under the steam of the shower for much too long, and then continuing to taste her when the two of you vowed to get some rest.

Natasha’s arm was around your midsection, her nose pushed against her side of your neck. Your legs were tangled. You held her closer than you had ever held anyone before. The last thing you wanted to do was let her go. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

The occasional car horn drifted up from the city of Cairo below. The stars that lined the velvet sky bled so easily into the man-made boroughs below. Past the outer-limits was a vast desert that called to you, almost dreamlike. You longed to feel the warmth of the sand, smell the crispness of land without civilization.

Natasha drew in a sharp breath and you froze, her muscles tightened for just a moment in her slumber. She finally relaxed and tightened her grip against the smooth skin of your stomach. You stared at her with so much love and admiration in your eyes, reflecting the twinkling lights from the city.

If you were to die now, or tomorrow, while you fumbled your way through the Valley of Kings under Khonsu’s control, you figured you would be content. Just being able to know Natasha Romanoff like this, to lay with her like this, would be enough. Even if it were just for a fleeting moment.

You asked me if I have ever been infatuated with anyone before.

Khonsu had taken a moment of warm Egypt wind to materialize within the whisps of white curtains. You drew in your own breath, but relaxed. Intrusions such as this were expected, but much less welcome when you were only scarcely covered by a top sheet. You rushed to pull the fabric over your chest, cheeks enflamed.

He’d never shared much with you, if anything at all. If there was more than empty sockets where his eyes used to be, you would be able to see his vulnerability. Instead, you gave him a small nod, as if not trying to scare him away.

There was a woman once. Ruia. Her son was a high priest of an outlying village, a benevolent ruler that welcomed the Gods with open arms. Back then it was normal for us to show ourselves. There was no need for an avatar.

You’d heard of this from Layla. Her God was much more forthcoming with her history. She was much more forthcoming with every piece of information. Khonsu pulled away from the swaying curtains, pacing with nervousness at the foot of the bed. His staff was gripped in his wrapped hand.

Ruia and I fell in love quickly, and passionately He lilted his head, as if eluding to the woman wrapped around you at this very moment, her soft form, her rhythmic breathing. We lived in absolute bliss for fifty years.

“What happened?” You whispered.

I am a God that can manipulate time, but I cannot stop it. Slowing it down is one thing, but Ruia… Ruia loved me with everything she had. I could spend forever with her, I wanted to spend forever with her. But she wasn’t interested in infinite life. She wanted finality. She wants me to join her when I am ready.

There wasn’t a bitterness in Khonsu’s voice, there was just resignation. He looked down at the carpet, at the moon that hung like a broken fishbone in the sky. Then back at you with a sadness that was written all over his skin-stripped features.

“Are you ready?”

His height shrunk when he knelt at the bottom of the bed, still towering over the two of you. His shadow was stretched over the sheets, over your body. The half-moon of his staff hung like a blade over your head. Natasha did not stir.

Are you?

The Valley of Kings was a tomb. The answer had been right in front of you, carved into the gold finish of Lady Madja’s coffin. You’d been so focused on the map that you hadn’t thought of what it would lead you to. That seemed so trivial compared to the current cat and mouse game that you were playing with your aunt.

A cool breeze wafted from the Nile, it’s water was a different, vibrant type of blue that New York could never produce. Boats drifted against the current, their captains like ants among a hill. It was easier to focus on them, on the sunrise, than the looming trip ahead of you.

After Khonsu had left last night, you hadn’t gone back to sleep. You’d tightened your grip on Natasha and placed a soft kiss against her temple. She’d still been asleep when you’d gotten a message from Layla, asking to meet her. She promised coffee and Feteer Meshaltet from her favorite spot.

Though, you didn’t have much of an appetite, you accepted the baked pastry regardless, taking small nibbles as the two of you walked along the length of grass that bordered the Nile. Layla watched you as you watched the water. Neither of you said anything for a long time.

“I’ve gotten work from Mark that Dina and Chip left on a flight a few hours after yours. They should be landing by nightfall.”

When that didn’t draw an answer from you, Layla stopped and waved her ring-clad hand in front of your face. You blinked a few times at her, then frowned down at your barely-touched breakfast. You were brought back to yourself and hated the pit that formed in your stomach.

“You with me Moon Bitch?”

“Moon Bitch?”

“You’re the avatar for a Moon deity and you’re kind of a bitch. Especially under his hand.”

Yeah, you supposed you were kind of a bitch these last two years. It seemed stupid now, drawing away from your family, from your friends, from your emotions, just because a pile of celestial bones had ordered you to. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered except for Natasha.

“Do you ever think about what happens when you die?” You asked, passing her your unfinished pastry. She fisted the white and red wax paper and lilted her head to the side, much like your master had the night before.

“We both have died.”

“Do you remember it?”

Layla clenched and unclenched her jaw before she frowned at the food and dropped it into the waste bin that lingered on the edges of a patch of green. Neither of you had much of an appetite. Food wasn’t something you thought about in the face of your ultimate demise.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, “I remember the snowstorm that night, how cold it was. It was barely visible but we’d gotten a call, you know? A woman was in labor and we were the only truck on service.”

You wanted to put your hand on your own and tell her stop but something held you back. She’d never been willing to share this with you before. You’d seen Taweret hit her with a warning stare when she’d been taunted mercilessly by the avatar of Mandulis. They’d always taken the high road.

Khonsu had found great amusement in the teasing. You had to swallow the lump in your throat and stand by his throne, staring down at the way the torches within the white sandstone flickered. There was a deep resentment towards yourself that day, how you’d abandoned her in that moment. If not for Khonsu’s bony hand engulfing your shoulder, you would have pushed forward.

Layla took a deep breath “The ambulance hit some black ice and spun out of control. Through a guardrail. I’d been flung from the vehicle and into a snowbank. I could see the highway above me, the headlights of a passerby who stopped to help. He saw me first and rushed to help, but I told him about the pregnant woman who was still in the back of the ambulance. I told him to go to her, and he listened.

“I fell asleep in the snow and when I woke up, I was in this stretching field of reeds. It was the warmest I had ever felt, it radiated from my core and all of that fear- all of that pain from the crash, had vanished just as quickly as it had come.”

It wasn’t like that for you, but you weren’t about to tell Layla that. She shrugged dismissively and started her slow stroll once more. You took a few moments before following her, shoulders drooping. Of course it was different for her, warmer, softer, acceptable.

“That’s when Taweret found me and offered me a second chance at life. It was almost… hard to leave that field, to enter the harshness of the world again, but I’m glad that I did.”

You nodded, swallowing the dryness in your throat. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Mm,” She hummed, frowning at you “Is there something you’re not telling me. Considering we’re having a group share.”

Was there? While Khonsu had implied that this was a suicide mission for him, he hadn’t said it outwardly. Through the course of your toxic relationship, you learned to read him. Despite trying to play it cool, he had the subtlety of a cinderblock.

“Did you know Khonsu had a wife?” You asked her another question, not ready to ponder the answer to her own.

Layla shook her head, using the back of her hand to wipe the sticky sweat from her forehead.

“He came to me last night after Natasha and I spent some time together. I think we remind him of what he used to have with Ruia. It was like he made his choice. Like he was done.”

She stopped and turned with a ferocity that was enough to snap her neck. There was confusion and then anger on her face. Layla wasn’t daft, she knew exactly what you were alluding to. There were Gods that had grown tired of their immortality before. The prospect of watching the world around you die had them craving the ever-falling sands. The deity equivalent to ending it all.

“No.” She closed the distance between the two of you “He can’t just let you die!”

You shushed her when a group of mothers walking their children around in strollers shot them wary looks. They were sidestepped and your voice found an even and soft tone. “Khonsu is the one keeping me alive, of course he can. Either way, I’m not meant to get the happy ending.”

Layla looked at you sadly, the tension in her body stifled with sudden realization. There was an odd type of peace that fell over her features, the same resignation that you felt last night. If you refused to take him to the Valley of Kings, then he’d sever the link right there and you wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Natasha the way that you wanted.

But, if you led him there, if you took him through the cold walls and the quiet crypts, he’d give you some form of mercy for your service these past two and a half years. That mercy would be in the form of one last moment with the woman that had crashed into your life unceremoniously.

“I’ve been labeled as a mistake. A worm, and I finally found the one person who never questioned my potential.” You grasped both of her hands, sadly running your thumbs over her bruised knuckles. “I’m not meant to stop Khonsu, I’m meant to lead him to his love.”

“And what about yours?”

“She’ll be okay.” You gave her palms a squeeze. “You’ll make sure of it.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Moonknight #Moonknight reader #Marvel #Marvel fanfiction #layla el faouly #I don't know anything about egypt lol #I'm doing my best I promise

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otdiaftg · 4 months

Text

The King's Men - Chapter Three

Day: Thursday, January 4th Time: 7:40 PM EST

Wymack pounded on the wall, calling a pause to the scrimmage, as Neil headed for the door. Neil let himself onto the court and headed for the goal. Andrew slung his racquet across his shoulders at Neil's approach. Neil knew better than to call Andrew out with an audience, so he stopped as close to Andrew as he could and kept his voice down. "Coach wants to know what you have against the offense line." Andrew slid a look past Neil to the court wall. "He can ask me himself." "Or you can answer me since I'm already here," Neil said. "There are only nine of us left. If we lose anyone else we're out of spring championships. You know that." Neil waited a beat, but of course that wasn't enough to get a reaction. Andrew looked bored of this conversation already. Neil put a hand up in front of Andrew's face, neatly blocking his view of Wymack, and waited until Andrew looked at him again. "I want us to get to finals. I want us to be the ones who finally bring the Ravens down. After everything Riko's done to us, don't you want that, too?" "You say 'want' so freely," Andrew said, "when I have told you a thousand times before I want nothing." "Probably because you're spending all your energy on not wanting anything," Neil shot back. "But if you can't grasp that simple concept, I'll put this in terms you do understand: this is a game we can't afford to lose. This is how we get to Riko. This is the only thing we can take from him that will actually hurt. Let's rip his rank out of his fingers and show him he had a reason to fear us all along." "Do your teammates still think you're the quiet one?" Andrew asked. "Our teammates," Neil said, with emphasis, "want this as much as I do. Stop cutting them off at the knees before they have the chance to try." "I don't believe in giving people chances." "I didn't until I came here," Neil said. "I took a chance on you when I decided to stay. You took a chance on me when you trusted me with Kevin. Is it really that hard to support them when they've been with you every step of the way?" "What will you give me in exchange for my cooperation?" Andrew asked. "Because revenge isn't good enough?" Neil asked. "What would it take?" Andrew didn't have to think about it. "Show me your scars." It was not what Neil was expecting, which was probably why Andrew asked for it. Neil opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat. Wymack and Abby had already seen them, and the Foxes knew they were there. He'd put Andrew's hand to his ruined skin back in November to earn Andrew's trust. Neil had promised Andrew the missing parts of his truth if they survived the year. He hadn't thought Andrew would settle for a visual. "When?" he said at last. "We are going to Columbia tomorrow," Andrew said. "Now walk away and tell Coach to mind his pay grade. I will not let him get away with this a second time." Neil didn't understand, but he nodded and left.

Art used with permission by llstarvasterll. Thank you @llstarcasterll !

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mysteryshoptls · 9 months

Text

Episode 5-68 Rhythmic Lyrics

LET'S TAKE ON THE VDC!

Absolutely Beautiful

Vil: I'll help get rid of that fragile spark you have.

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

Vil: Would you like some sweet poison? I wonder if it will suit your taste. Everything is within my grasp, that is absolute.

Jamil: Ah... this fluttering feeling inside my heart. Epel: Someday, that apple-like red color will rot away.

Jamil/Epel: No one can surpass me. Jamil/Vil: That's right, strength is not the only thing I have. Vil/Epel: You should have the ability to make them all kneel too, right?

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (Jamil/Vil/Epel: The very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (Jamil/Vil/Epel: It's Show Time!)

Jamil [rapping]: The thorns entwine, the clock turns. We're being watched, with that cold gaze. Silently, subtly, we get cut down, we get made fools of. Play it safe, no way to be saved. Boom Boom Bloom, suffer the blows. Boom Boom Bloom, bad steering. Whether that heart is real or fake, Only the gods would know.

Epel: Ah... Deep in the darkness, there's guilt. Vil: That guilt becomes the bitterest nectar. There's no changing it.

Jamil/Epel: Don't forget Jamil/Vil: That's right, I am absolutely everything. Jamil/Epel: I have strength to fight, even if I can see the end coming.

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (Jamil/Vil/Epel: The craftiest) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (Jamil/Vil/Epel: It's Show Time)

Vil: This beauty of mine... I will show it off forevermore.

Jamil/Epel: No one can surpass me. Jamil/Vil: That's right, strength is not the only thing I have. Jamil/Epel: You should have the ability to make them all kneel too, right?

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (Jamil/Vil/Epel: The very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (Jamil/Vil/Epel: It's Show Time!)

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

Absolutely Beautiful (Translyrics)

Under the cut, the following English lyrics should match the Japanese lyrics fairly well. Some liberties have been taken to make the rhyme and rhythm work, but stays true to the core of the song. It may take a few listen and read throughs to sing it just as I've envisioned it. I've also spaced them out slightly separately from the original written lyrics in-game to help with figuring out the beat.

Your fragile radiant spark, I can help you to, Make it all disappear.

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

Would not some sweet poison satiate? I hope you find it suits your taste. Now everything is on my plate. You should know That this was no mistake.

Ah… feel the way my heartbeat does sway. Someday, like the red hue of a ripe apple, It will decay.

No one compares at all to me. That’s right strength is not, The only thing that I carry. One day I’m sure that you will Make them bow their heads down before your feet, too!

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (It's the very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (It's Show Time)

[rapping] Prickly thorns entwine, the spinning hands of time Being watched no doubt, cold gaze I can’t block out Silently, subtly, getting slashed and torn, and looked down in scorn. No trouble is borne, no salvation is sworn. Boom Boom Bloom; only subjugation. Boom Boom Bloom; no good direction. Whether that heart is real or just another fake. Only the gods know our fate.

Ah… Deep in the darkness, guilt is derived And grows into the bitterest nectar. That can’t be denied.

Don’t you forget about me. That’s right, yes I am, All that was and all that will be. I have the will to fight on, Even if the end has already been seen.

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (It's the most artful) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (It's Show Time)

My elegance, grace and poise… Will live on, forever more

No one compares at all to me. That’s right, strength is not, The only thing that I carry. One day I’m sure that you will Make them bow their heads down before your feet, too!

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (It's the very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (It's Show Time)

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #deuce spade #kalim al-asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #twst ace #twst deuce #twst kalim #twst jamil #twst vil #twst epel #twst rook #twst translation

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missmeinyourbones · 11 months

Note

Osamu and #5 please? :)

NSFW 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

cw: IM SWEATING... afab!reader, soft dom osamu, fingering and clit play, teasing, this is the last piece of this lil game ty all for playing along :p

...

while his twin often gets hit with the annoying allegations, you know he's not alone in his nature. because, sure, they have their differences, but DNA is still a science, and osamu is just as insufferable as his brother.

"is it good when i touch you here?" he gently asks, though nothing about the power he holds over you right now could be described as gentle.

osamu has mastered the art of overpowering you with delicate dominance. never pushy or mean in the slightest, the mere sternness of his silky touches and coos always has you listening to him, one way or another.

he's strong, his grip on you remains soft but it's achingly there. with you pressed up against him with little to no effort, osamu doesn't need to be rough and harsh for you to be completely and utterly his.

he's not pleased when he's met with your silence, so he decides to be nice and try again.

"asked you somethin', sweetheart."

your back against his chest, his hand lightly holds your jaw in place with his palm. knees rubbing against the plush of the comforter, your ass grinds into his cock as you squirm in his grasp.

the gentle circles of his pointer finger on your throbbing clit are so simple, yet too much for you to handle already. he's barely begun and you're slipping beneath his grip like water in his hands.

"yes," you whine against his fingers in needy frustration.

osamu kisses his teeth at the half-assed response, disapprovingly but still amused. "use your words, say it like a big girl," he breathes against your neck.

his hands continue to snake around you, keeping you in place and reminding you that even with his sweet words and calloused fingers, you're still no match for him.

"does it feel good," he enunciates both his words and his actions when he presses a bit firmer on where you ache for release, "when i touch you here?"

back arching further against his body, he feels your thighs quake against his at the minuscule action. your head thrown further back into his shoulder, he gently lets his hand fall from your jaw to the base of your neck.

through gritted teeth, you tell him, "you know it does."

osamu laughs now, you feel the vibration of his chest against you when he kisses your temple to ease your frustration.

"ya flatter me, baby, but i'm no mind reader," he feigns innocence, though his finger pressing harder on your clit shows his true colors.

his touch is firm and achingly slow, calculated in his movements as he pulls each whimper and jolt from you with ease.

he's smiling like a bastard when he sweetly kisses up your neck, sucking and nipping on the tender spots and convincing you he's just doing what he's told.

his voice is condescendingly calm when he breathes, "if you don't speak up, how am i supposed to know if i should keep goin—"

"—yes!" your sigh of need, agony, you don't even know anymore, comes out breathy and high-pitched.

osamu feels you swallow beneath the palm of his hand when you take a breath and repeat with confidence," yes, feels really fucking good. so please, keep going."

at your confession, osamu makes a mental note to get a pretty ring on your finger as soon as he can.

"well, since ya asked so nicely," he coos in pride, finally rewarding you by slipping a finger between your folds and inside your eager hole.

#osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu smut #osamu miya smut #osamu fic #osamu miya fic

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523rdrebel · 12 days

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - The Start of Something New

Chapter Summary: Crosshair, Bells, and the Batch enjoy the Festival. Bells and Crosshair take small steps to learn how to navigate their relationship.

Rating: T, SFW

Warnings: None

A/N: So so sorry for taking so long to continue this story. I went on hiatus and then hit an unfortunate bout of writer's block. Fair warning this chapter begins Part Two of Sunflowers and Blasters which will have a bit of a tonal shift. We are still focusing on Crosshair and Bells's relationship, but I'll be introducing more original characters, quite a lot of backstory for our favorite sunshine medic, and even some angst and action. If that isn't something you're interested in, no worries, and no pressure to keep reading. <3

Thanks so much for your patience with me and I hope you enjoy!

Crosshair divider by Snotbuggle, Star and Moon Dividers by Saradi

Wrecker came up in between them wrapping his arms around their shoulders and dragging them along with a firm squeeze back toward the festival, “Come on, you two! There’s a whole festival to enjoy…together.” He wiggled his eyebrows and laughed, loud and boisterous.

“Ugh–” Crosshair groaned and rolled his eyes, but didn’t fight Wrecker guiding them back towards the Festival.

Once they reentered the bright, joyful lights, surrounded once again by the cacophony of sound from a village temporarily uninhibited by responsibilities, Wrecker released the pair and jogged off as he caught sight of Daisy passing nearby, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Left alone, there was this weight of uncertain pressure between Crosshair and Isabella. They’d flirted often, drawn inexplicably towards each other from the moment Crosshair had entered Isabella’s clinic, but now, they stood on the precipice of an undeniable change. They stood close together but not touching, hesitant but with an electric undercurrent of expectation. Isabella glanced to the side, observing Crosshair’s body language for any clues on his thoughts. Her hand twitched and she fought the urge to grab his hand and drag him along.

She heard Crosshair sigh through his nose, bringing her gaze back to his face as he rolled his eyes. The back of his hand brushed against hers, electric sparks shooting through her body causing a barely suppressed shiver.

“Well…” Isabella began, leaning slightly to brush her shoulder against his, “Where to?”

He leans in conspiratorially, “We could just leave…”

“Not so fast, Cross. You can’t go to a Festival and not play obviously rigged games. It’s tradition.”

“Rigged games–”

“Come on!” Instinctively she reached out for his hand, but stopped short and instead held out her hand palm up. An invitation.

Crosshair eyed the hand for only a moment before grasping her open palm within his, reveling in the sensation of her soft, warm fingers wrapped around his. He let her lead him through the busy streets of the festival, much as Omega had led them earlier that evening, his eyes cataloging her form- her hair, her smile, her bright, twinkling laugh. How long would he be able to hold on to her? How long until he broke her, too? But he pushed those unwelcome thoughts down, down into his mind avoiding the cold grip of fear he was all too accustomed to.

The evening passed in a dizzying blur of activity. Bells led Crosshair to all of her favorite sections of the Festival: Lantern lighting, hand crafted art and trinkets, exotic foods, dancers and musical performers and games of skill. At one game Wrecker took on a feat of strength, lifting a large boulder and spinning around to launch the rock across a number of lines indicating the distance thrown. Shep, surprisingly, tossed his boulder just a hair farther than Wrecker to the shocked cheers of many onlookers. Wrecker congratulated Shep with a crushing hug, lifting the man off the ground and laughing joyously.

Echo and Hunter challenged Crosshair and Tech to a game strategy and cooperation, followed shortly after by Wrecker and Omega who joined the competition. One of each team of two was blindfolded and sent into a maze, the partner perched atop their shoulders to direct them through the maze. It was a highly competitive game, each team yelling directions and orders or attempting to distract or mislead the opposing team. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker were blindfolded, their partners secured upon their shoulders and the game began. Echo kept purposely directing Hunter into walls when he tried to use his heightened senses to tell Echo where he thought they should go. Crosshair communicated almost solely through various forms of grunts and growls, frustrating Tech to no end, “Use. Your. Words. Crosshair.” Wrecker and Omega made it through the maze in less than five minutes, having no difficulties communicating and Omega only directed them to a dead end twice. Wrecker and Omega were adorned with beautifully crafted flower crowns for their victory and Wrecker promptly offered his to a blushing, giggling Daisy.

Bells nudged Crosshair with her elbow, directing his attention towards Wrecker and Daisy, “He went off to talk to Dai-sy.” She beamed at the pair across the way, “She's my favorite baker on the island. Wrecker’s had a crush on her for ages…”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “I know– he’s been insufferable. Mooning at her for months.”

“He asked me for some advice, didn’t quite know how to start talking to her.”

“You?” He remarked dryly.

She elbowed his waist sharply this time, “Believe it or not, Cross, I am actually a woman. I’m familiar with our wiley ways.” She wiggled her fingers at him playfully.

“Do go on…”

“Excuse you! Those are protected trade secrets. I can't reveal them to just anybody.”

He snorted and directed another eye roll at her.

She sighed and shook her head, then shrugged, “Well, I’m hungry. Come with me?”

“I suppose. Wouldn't want to leave you and your wiley ways unsupervised…”

After their hunger was satisfied, they decided upon one last game. “Saving the best for last,” she’d said, and led him to a stall with a rudimentary game of accuracy. The stall was set up with holo-targets at three levels of difficulty and an old short-range training blaster rifle was provided for all who wished to take on the “challenge.” Crosshair scoffed, but Bells beamed at him and stepped up to the stall.

Crosshair stood back observing quietly, taking it all in. He was happy, happier than he'd been in a long time, if ever. He watched Bells laughing with Wrecker who had come over to cheer for her.

He watched as she set her stance like he’d taught her, leveled the rifle, and took aim. She was still wearing his borrowed jacket. The corner of his mouth twitched. He approached her from behind while she took her first two shots, nailing the bullseye, then just to the right. She aimed again, nailing the next two with intense focus. He smirked and ran a hand up her back under his jacket and leaned close to whisper in her ear, “Don’t get distracted…” She jumped, barely hitting the outer ring of the target and she turned on him, blushing profusely, “Cross!”

Crosshair chuckled quietly, “Works every time…” His gaze swept over the targets, “Well, you still hit the target…barely. Might have to work on your focus, Bells.”

She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, mumbling under her breath, “Kiss the man once in a secluded garden and suddenly he gets bold.”

It was getting late, the crowds had thinned and many stalls had begun to clear away. Lighting around the Festival areas were dimmed to a low, soft ambiance. Hunter and Omega had bid their goodnights an hour or so prior and the rest of the Batch had scattered elsewhere. Crosshair and Bells walked the darkened quiet streets of Pabu’s upper levels, meandering a path towards Bells’s home. When they finally approach the door, Bells tapped the entry pad and the door opened with a woosh. The pair lingered in the entrance, hushed and unwilling to break the spell and end the night.

After what could have been seconds or hours, locked in a stalemate with ever encroaching time, Crosshair wraped one arm around her waist and pulled her close. The other hand softly cradled the back of her neck and he pressed a soft, teasing kiss to her lips before releasing her with a knowing smirk, “‘Night, Bells.” Once again he walked out her door leaving her breathless and hopelessly wanting more.

She shook her head and slowly began getting ready for bed, her mind occupied with a mixture of memories and sensations from the evening and fanciful fabrications of an evermore possible future. As she exited the ‘fresher, her busy mind was abruptly broken from its revelry by a strange beeping sound. Isabella froze, listening for the sound. It came from a storage unit she hadn’t touched since arriving on Pabu some years ago. The sound stopped and she squeezed her eyes shut against the burning cold dread, clenched her jaw, and climbed into bed. With some effort, she redirected her thoughts back to the pleasant events of the evening, her breathing slowing until sleep finally found her.

She dreamt of a beautiful picnic with friends and loved ones from Pabu. Desi and Taayo were there, a young, nameless child crawling around them. Crosshair was there, as were his brothers and sister, the banter and laughter flowing freely. Other residents of Pabu made an appearance as well. All the while, a shadow hovered just out of sight, at the corners of her vision she knew it was there. She knew the shadow, but could not recall it’s name. She turned to ask, only to have it move once more just outside of her vision and then was gone. The rest of the night no more dreams troubled her.

Ye Olde Taglist:

@jediknightjana @dangraccoon @wizardofrozz @freesia-writes @mythical-illustrator

@echoxbuggs @trixie2023 @ezras-left-thumb @sweetcream-coldfoam

@anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @arctrooper69

@littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @sev-on-kamino @dystopicjumpsuit @idontgetanysleep

@clonemedickix @followthepurrgil @clonethirstingisreal

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cookeybg · 2 months

Text

Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

Woah, I couldn't wait and whipped this out as fast as I could. I want all of you to feel what I felt. Bwahahaha!

I'm so excited for this one.

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

[In case you missed it Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3]

Part 1 - Chapter 4

Jon had done it. He had actually done it! Taking inspiration from some shoujo manga he had read, he decided to write a letter with his feelings confessing his crush on Jay. It had taken him three days and two nights to write and to say he was nervous was an understatement. He really hoped he hadn’t looked too desperate when he had asked Jay to meet up after art class, since it was their last class of the day. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately since it meant he could take a few breaths to compose himself, Jay had to meet Mr. Thompson in the computer room. Jon told him he would wait at the bench, under the tree, in the small garden the art classes used for sketching and painting. Jon paced the length of the bench. The sun shone brightly through the tree branches. He could smell the soft wet earth under the white rose bushes and hear the chirping of birds encouraging his journey into love. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating unnecessarily quickly. Standing still, he stared at tree bark trying to breathe in and out, the envelope clutched in both hands when he heard foot steps stop behind him. He swung, around eyes shut tightly, arms extended offering his love letter with both hands. “I’ve liked you for a while! Please go out with me!” Almost biting his tongue with how quickly he said it. “Tt.” Jon knew that sound, he lifted his head so quickly he probably got whiplash. A breeze picked up jostling white rose petals around Damian making him look like he had materialized from thin air. “I barely know you,” green eyes glared, “and I am not looking for a relationship.” Jon was unable to move. His hands and feet felt cold and his head was buzzing so loudly he wasn’t sure if it was him or if there was a beehive in the tree above. Damian was NOT Jay. Damian was NOT supposed to be here. WHY was Damian here?! As if in slow motion he watched as Damian cocked an eyebrow and shifted to one foot in annoyance. Damian opened his mouth to say something, but another voice cut him off. “What’s going on?” Damian snatched the letter from Jon’s grasp, as two arms wrapped around Damian’s shoulders from behind. A familiar redhead rested his chin on top of Damian’s head. “Tt, nothing.” Damian hissed. “Get off me!” Damian shook Colin off, glared at Jon, “And you, stop blocking the path.” “Wait!” Jon tried to stop him from storming away, but Colin got in his path, grabbing Jon’s arm. “Sorry dude, but he’s not in a good mood right now. I would leave him alone if I were you.” Colin said apologetically, leaving Jon standing there, dumbfounded. Did he just get dumped? Dumped by Damian Wayne? By a guy he didn’t even like? Was this truly happening, was this truly his reality? What the hell was wrong with him? He should have made sure it was Jay! Why was Damian even around here?! He felt a buzz coming from his pocket. With shaking hands he took it out and stared at the text from Jay blankly. I’m so sorry! My mom came and picked me up early, family emergency. Sorry! Ttyl. Jon slid to the ground, damp grass soaked through his slacks. He tasted salt and could feel tears dripping off his chin. He vaguely heard a crow, it sounded like it was laughing at him.

“I’m home.” Jon said glumly, slowly removing his shoes and placing them where they belonged. Conner did the same glancing at Jon with concern. While they were waiting at the subway, Conner had tried to ask what was wrong, but Jon wouldn’t open up about it. He decided to wait until Jon was ready to speak about it, but it was honestly worrying him since Jon was usually happy go lucky. “Oh good!” Lois walked out of her room holding the curling iron and wearing a bathrobe. “The both of you, hurry and get ready. I left your clothes on your chairs. Hurry or we'll be late!” She said, running back into her room. Jon groaned. He had forgotten that they were going to some fancy dinner. His parent’s friends had invited the whole family for some important announcement, or something. Jon didn’t care. Jon didn’t want to go, should he feign a stomach ache? He sighed watching Conner look at his new clothes appreciatively. He couldn’t let Conner go alone, it would be unfair. Jon went through the paces as he got ready for the evening. Eventually Jon sat in his chair, chin cradled in his hands, elbows on his knees, legs crisscrossed on his desk chair, staring at Conner while he fussed with his hair. Jon did not feel like putting any effort on his appearance. Two knocks resounded from their bedroom door and Lois walked in fiddling with some gold earrings. She was wearing a tight plum colored dress and a gold necklace that Jon had never seen before, it’s blue gem glistened under the bedroom light. She looked between the boys, putting her hands on her hips when she finished with clasping her earrings. “You look so handsome Conner!” She cooed and Conner beamed. Lois then turned towards Jon and frowned. “Brush your hair.” Jon grumbled watching her leave the room. He grabbed the hair spray and brush from Conner and did a passable job at calming his curls.

Lois, Jon and Conner walked out of the parking structure and met Clark outside of the most fanciest and gaudiest restaurant Jon had ever seen. “Was there a lot of traffic?” Clark asked leaning in and kissing Lois on the cheek. “Not really.” Lois said, then covered her mouth and giggled. “This feels like we are in high school all over again.” “It is pretty exciting.” Clark laughed guiding his wife by the waist. When they entered they were greeted with the sight of a huge chandelier that Jon was pretty sure passed as a work of art made of asymmetrical patterns. There was a lot of gold accents, moody lighting, textured beige walls and leather couches that had no patrons. A stuffy looking man stood at the podium in the far center of the room. He looked down their nose at them. “Mr. and Mrs. Kent I presume?” he said in a French accent. “Uh, yes.” Said Clark. “We are here to meet-“ “Ah, please do not mention their names, if it is overheard it might cause too many curious eyes and ears.” The stuffy man cut Clark off. Clark nodded a bit put off. “If you would follow me.” The Kent family followed behind the man. Jon saw some patrons sitting in the open in two seater tables while others sat in more private booths made for larger parties, they passed by them all and walked through a door that another employee held open for them. They were met with a long hallway that held two other doors labeled as private. “What the hell is going on?” Conner whispered from the side of his mouth while leaning close to Jon. Jon shrugged and shook his head at Conner. They both wore identical confused expressions. They stopped at the last door at the end of the hallway. Another stuffy man with gray hair and the beginnings of a balding head nodded at the Maître d. “If you will excuse me.” Said the first stuffy man, he bowed and walked away. “Mistress Kent and Master Kent, it is always a pleasure.” This man had an English accent. “It’s Lois, Alfred.” Lois smiled and hugged the man who hugged back stiffly. “Mine’s Clark, in case you forgot.” Clark laughed and shook Alfred’s hand. “There is very little I forget, Master Clark.” Alfred smiled and looked at Jon and Conner. “These must be the young Masters Jonathan and Conner.” Jon and Conner greeted the man awkwardly. The man opened the door and ushered them in. Jon stopped in his tracks his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging. Standing at the dinning table next to a man and a woman and four children was none other than Damian Wayne. Who stared at him in slight surprise. Maybe he should faint, would that get him out of this dinner?

Bahahaha, this one was fun.

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #jonathan kent #damian and jon #jondami #high school au #no capes au #supersons #fanfic #fanfiction #first time writing #hope you enjoy

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13as07 · 3 months

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Want To Be Boxer

(Kiba Inuzuka)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to SUK1J1]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,521

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Fist Fighting

Hickies/Bite Marks

———————————————————————

Kiba's smiley kiss is pressed into my jaw once again. His hands jump between my hips and my waist as he shimmies behind me, the wolf boy's non-discreet way of making me smell like him. "I'm excited," he purrs into my jawline, more kisses tracing the bone.

"Oh ya?" I tease, untangling myself from his grasp. Even without Kiba wrapped around me, Akamaru is still wrapped around my legs, staying under my feet and making it hard to walk around.

"Ya, I can't wait for everyone to meet you," he carries on as he attempts to grab at me again.

I hum in agreement, doing my best to walk towards the door, the actual and metaphorical dog in tow. "Well, no one will meet me if we don't get going."

"It wouldn't be all bad to stay in," Kiba teases, playfully making his eyebrows jump.

"Horn-dog," I mutter under my breath, managing to stretch enough to get the door open. Once it's opened, Akamaru shoots out, racing a few paces ahead before he waits for us to catch up.

"Only for you," Kiba teases, arm sliding around me before his hand slips into my hoodie pocket.

I swear he isn't going to survive tonight. He can barely survive when I join his squad for dinner, his jealousy quickly pointed at Shino during the supers. It's almost promised that Kiba will end up in a fistfight by the end of the night. The only question is who he'll end up in a fight with. Probably Shino. It's usually Shino.

The night air is chilled, quickly sliding through my - well Kiba's - hoodie and shirt to attack my skin. Despite that, Kiba's body heat does good at keeping me warm. Well, the half of me he's pressed against.

As we walk the hand in my pocket rubs circles into me. Akamaru entertains himself, running a couple of paces ahead, waiting for us to catch up before circling us and doing it all again. He's grown pretty big since he was a puppy, easily coming up to waist level. He looks more like a wolf than a dog these days.

It doesn't take long for music to soon fill the street and obnoxious stereotypical lights to flicker in the distance. "When you said a party I thought you meant a small get-together," I huff, my anxiety already spiked. I hate social gatherings, I hate social gatherings where I barely know anyone, and I really hate social gatherings I didn't have time to mentally prepare for.

"I mean..." Kiba says, a toothy grin on his face as he rubs the back of his head. "That's what Lee said but Naruto and Lee are... well... known for blowing things out of proportion."

"So you knew this 'small get-together' was going to end up being a block party?" I hiss, tugging myself out of Kiba's hold.

"Come on, don't be like that," he whines, going to grab at me again. Akamaru is back, circling himself around me, which always makes Kiba even more huffy. He hates that his dog always takes my side. "Trader," he mumbles to the pet, patting his head before his focus is back on me.

"You wouldn't have come, and personally I want my girlfriend at the party with me. Not to mention I want everyone to actually meet you. Kankuro is convinced you're a sex doll I named."

The mention of the sand prince makes me a little smug. From what Shino has told me, the puppeteer is my boyfriend's boyfriend. One he has a love-hate relationship with. "Fine," I mumble, doing my best to hide the smile on my face. Kiba can't know he won, or that I'm looking forward to this bromance in action.

"Really?" He asks with his normal teeth-filled smile back on his face.

"Ya, sure but most of my night is going to be spent next to you or with your squad mates."

"That's like the whole point," he teases, arm back around me and his hand in the back pocket of my pants this time, not so discreetly groping my ass. "I'm so excited."

"Ya until you try to fight Shino again," I utter, eyes trailing after Akamaru who has settled down alongside my nerves. I swear that dog can smell my anxiety from the way he acts... Can he smell my anxiety? Can Kiba smell my anxiety?

The thoughts swirl in my head the rest of the walk. The walk seems a lot shorter now than it did before. "I thought Naruto and Lee were orphans," I say when the house sourcing the loud music and party lights falls into view.

"They are. It's Gai-Sensei's house and he's gone on a mission. How the hell Lee talked him into it is beyond me but it's better than a cramped party at his or Naruto's apartments." Kiba shrugs at the explanation, tugging me in front of him. He waddles behind me, hands secured on my hips as we weave through the people chilling in the yard.

He stops his soft pushing when we land in front of the door, hands rubbing circles into my hip bones. "If it becomes too much we can leave. Worse cause we say hi and make our appearance before leaving."

"You don't mean that, Party-Animal," I answer, soaking in the familiar feeling of Kiba wrapped around me and Akamaru nestled against my legs.

"Of course I do. You're my girl, your comfort comes first," Kiba coos, softly silencing all the worries brewing in my head. "You're at the top of my priority list... well after my barber."

"Your fucking barber beat me out for the first place spot?" I bitch, my voice picking up in disbelief. "Not your mom, not your dog, not your job, your barber!"

"I'm kidding, baby," Kiba chuckles, pressing a couple more kisses into my jaw before dragging me inside.

I'm surprised the house isn't shaking or the speakers haven't blown from the bass. Neon lights cut through the darkness, mixing with the smoke spreading from a string of things and the alcohol smell that coats everything. I don't know this Gai person but Lee better be one hell of a maid tomorrow morning.

Kiba is back to being wrapped around me, fingers snuggly through my belt loops, chest pressed against my back, and chin resting on my head. My boyfriend isn't thin but he sure as hell isn't built like a brick. Nonetheless, his aura takes up enough space for us to easily slink around the house, Akamaru knocking into our legs as he sneaks around with us.

"Yo, Kiba!" Someone shouts, making him stop.

Akamaru happily runs over to the guy, tail-wagging the whole time. I get tugged backward and pressed back into Kiba's chest when I try to continue walking. "Sup, Shika," he calls back, glancing down at me for a second. Kiba's head dips, his canines brushing against my ear as he speaks. "We're going to go say hi, is that cool?"

"And if I say no?" I ask, leaning my head back.

Kisses are peppered across my nose before Kiba's mouth is back in place, "Then Shikamaru can go fuck himself. Your comfort first, remember?"

I can't help the smile that crosses my face. I swear Kiba is the definition of a lost puppy when he's around me if that wasn't evident enough from being wrapped up in his skin. "Ya, that's fine," I call back, voice louder than usual to try and outweigh the music.

More kisses are littered across me, being pressed into my shoulders and upper back as I'm steered through the crowd of people.

When I'm planted in front of the guy, Akamaru is back to weaving around my legs, army crawling so he doesn't knock me over as he circles me. My hand sinks, repeatedly rubbing his head to try and get him to still.

"Temari let you off your leash tonight?" Kiba asks the guy, chest roaring with a chuckle afterward.

"You're one to talk, wrapped around your girl like she's gonna dash like a rabbit. At least Temari loosens a bit at parties so she's not such a drag." I'm pretty sure the Shika guy meant it as a joke, partly because of the smile on his face and partly because his eyes are locked on a blonde girl who looks ready to punch the girl she's talking to.

"Watch it. You don't have to be such a jackass all the time, Nara," Kiba says, straightening his stance and tightening his grip on me.

"He was kidding, Kiba," I say, my hold falling to his wrists and gently massaging them in an attempt to calm him.

"Ya well he still doesn't have to be such a dick," he husks out, sending the other boy a glare before shifting me to the side.

Kiba is huffy and still pissy as he guides me through the partygoers, pissed-off mumbles, and insults aimed at the guy slipping out under his breath. "It's not that big of a deal," I try, leaning my body against his so my feet slide against the wood floors as he leads me around.

"I know," he grumbles, head flipping around the room in search of something. "Shikamura is just... he's so convinced he's better than everyone."

"You always let Shikamaru get under your skin. I don't know why you bother trying to be friends with him," Shino's monotone voice peeps out over the music.

"Shino!" I sing, wiggling out of Kiba's hold to greet his squad mate.

"Mutt Tamer... you look... nice," Shino - attempts - to compliment, it never comes out that way though.

"Ya, ya, ya. Keep your dick in your pants, Bug Boy," Kiba says, still very pissed off. "I'll be right back," he tells me, kissing my cheek before diving back into the sea of people.

Shino and I watch him work his way through the crowd until he disappears into another room. "Why's he so pissed?"

"I think it's cause the Shika guy called me a drag... or maybe a rabbit. I don't really know," I answer, my focus busy trying to find Akamaru.

"Kiba is just worried."

"About?"

"You." As if Akamaru can sense it, he comes squirming out from the crowd, two drunk girls cooing for him as they try to catch him. "He's worried you won't have a good time. Or that you'll get uncomfortable and not tell him."

"I'll be fine once I get a couple of drinks in my system," I tell the bug-man, my stance widening and my hand falling to Akamaru's heel signal. The dog does as ordered, skidding between my legs before sitting with his nose pressed to my hand.

"I told him the same thing, but unlike Aka, Kiba doesn't learn new tricks easily." I laugh at the joke, Shino giving off a rare smile in return.

"Speaking of drinks, we should get one." I busy my hands, rubbing behind the dog's ears like Kiba has told me to; positive reinforcement for behaving.

"I figured that's what Kiba was doing."

"He's pissed off. Kiba is busy tossing Mr. Drag-Man around the yard."

Another rare smile comes before Shino starts walking away. I follow behind, Akamaru bumping into my legs as he trails next to me, occasionally stopping for head scratches.

The kitchen is a nice break from the loud living room, the music softer and normal lighting meeting my senses when we walk through the door. Hooting and hollering filters in from the yard, along with calls of my boyfriend's name, letting me know I was right.

I decide to abandon getting a drink and instead chill out on the porch, watching Kiba throw down with at least thirty other people watching too. I'm not a violent person... sometimes, but I enjoy watching Kiba fight. It's sexy watching him hot-headed and seeing the way his muscles flex. It's even hotter knowing he's doing it for me.

Again, I heel Akamaru, keeping him secured between my thighs. He obeys, but whines as we watch his master being and throwing punches.

"Fucking Kiba," Shino mutters, appearing behind me again. "Hasn't even drank yet and he's already picking fights. You're going to have a long night," he adds on, handing me an unopened bottle of a fruity, five percent, something.

Whatever, it'll taste good and get me loose. Plus, it's unopened so no need for Kiba to do a roofie sniff test. I snap the bottle open, placing the top into my hoodie pocket before taking a drink. It's not as good as I thought it would be.

"Oh, hey babe!" He cheers, actually dragging the Shika guy around the yard, Kiba's arm around his neck in a headlock. I lift my drink to him, tipping it and my head at him. He sends a kissy face back before turning his focus back to the Nara in his hold.

Eyes flicker to me, getting growls from Akamaru in return. I swear I don't know who's more territorial, Kiba or his dog. Another fist is thrown before the Nara boy taps out, boosting Kiba's ego even more tonight. "Fucking pussy," he mocks, flipping Shika off before walking over to me.

"Akamaru," he calls, patting the dog's head. "Babes," he continues, pecking my lips. "And Shino," he deadpans, his squad mate tipping his beer at him. "I gotta go clean up, see ya in like five," Kiba explains, hands sliding up my sides as he attacks my neck, littering kisses, and small nibbles to it.

"Five minutes or I'm leaving," I warn, managing to capture his lips for a second. Shino's wrong, Kiba has had a drink or two. His lips taste like vodka.

———————————

"Oh, Naruto," Hinata fonds, clinging to his arm as they walk back inside, leaving Kiba and me alone... mostly alone. Shino is passed out a couple of steps away. So is Akamaru.

After the fistfight, Kiba and I ended up staying on the porch. His friends have filtered in and out, coming to say hi and talk for a while. They all seem pretty nice though I can't tell if that's because they're actually nice or just seem nice from the buzz sliding through my body.

"You want another drink?" Kiba mutters, most of his focus being on my neck. Drunk Kiba is a horny Kiba... well, so is sober Kiba but he sucks at hiding it more when he's drunk.

"Yes please," I answer, letting my head lull against his shoulder. I probably shouldn't have any more. I've easily already had six but one more won't hurt.

Another open mouth kiss is pressed into my neck, my skin being tugged as Kiba pulls away. "Be right back," he mutters, struggling for a second to get his balance.

With his master gone, Akamaru shifts from lying next to me to lying in my lap, only half of him fitting in it. "I swear to God," Shino says, startling me a bit. He's been lying on his back, stretched out on the porch for the past twenty minutes. I thought he fell asleep. "If you two have sex in front of me, I'm going to gag."

"Oh, shut up, virgin boy," I tease, stretching forward to smack the bottom of his boot.

Shino teases back, gently tapping my hand with his shoe. "Just because I don't hang on girls like Kiba does to you doesn't mean I'm not sexually active." The movement causes Akamaru's head to pop up, a soft warning yap being aimed at Shino. "Ya, ya, ya, Aka. No, hurting mommy," Bug-boy says sarcastically, shifting to sit up.

Akamaru forces an exhale out, tail tapping a few times before he lays his head back down. "Dumb dog," Shino mumbles, but still scratches the dog behind his ears.

"If it ain't Mr. Beatle," a chirpy voice calls from the door. The voice has the dog up and out of my lap, teeth bared as he wraps around me. "Yo, Shino, call the watchdog off."

"That dog doesn't listen to me," Shino groans, shaking his head before turning his attention to me.

"Aka," I call, patting my thigh. The dog settles, stretching himself out in my lap again.

"Where's Kiba?" The guy behind me asks.

"Your boyfriend should be in the kitchen getting another round of drinks."

"He's not my boyfriend," the guy groans. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

I tip my head backward, holding my weight on my hands as I lean. The guy is very boxy looking, square face, shapeless sweats on, and purple strips across his face that make it look even more square. He has brown hair, a shade or two darker than Kiba's, and dark eyes, also a few shades darker than my boyfriend's.

The sandman's eyes jump over me, sizing me up as well. "Damn, and here I thought Kiba's girl was fake."

"If you thought I was fake, how are you so sure I am his girl?" I push an attempt to figure out what Kiba has said about me. I don't think my question makes complete sense though. Maybe I am too buzzed.

"You mean other than his dog trying to eat me?" Kankuro teases, pointing at the napping Akamaru. "His clan symbol is around your neck, dumbie."

"Maybe I'm an Inuzuka too."

"Ya? Where are your check markings then? Kiba chew them off like he's done to your neck?"

My cheeks heat up at the sand ninja bringing light to the hickies I'm sure litter most of my throat. After all, Kiba likes to mark his territory from his clan symbol around my neck to his hoodie I've been wearing all night to his canine and suction marks littering my skin.

"Don't be jealous," Shino pipes up, eyes repeatedly glancing at the kitchen door. "It's not the Mutt Tamer's fault Kiba sees her as valuable enough to be territorial of but leaves you panning after him."

"I'm not into Kiba!" Sandman bitches. "We're just friends. I'm not gay."

"Damn and here I thought I worked my way out of the friend zone," Kiba's voice rings out, chuckles crackling out of him. Akamaru perks up at the sound of his master, leaving my side long enough to greet Kiba.

"Ya and I thought you were above picking fights five minutes into a party," Kankuro teases back, a smile crawling across his face. "Especially with my brother-in-law of all people."

Kiba shrugs, popping the lid off my drink before handing it to me. "Shikamaru should have known better than to make my girl uncomfortable."

"I wasn't uncomfortable, Kibs," I correct before taking a swig of my drink. These fruit things taste a hell of a lot better drunk.

Kiba ignores my correction. "My girl's comfort comes first."

"Aw, how sweet," my boyfriend's boyfriend teases before he fake gags. "Get a room you two."

"Fucking preach," Shino groans, flapping back down on the porch.

"Oh shove it you two. Don't be mad I'm getting laid tonight and you guys aren't," Kiba grunts, sinking back down to the porch before tangling up with me again. I'm tugged into his lap, legs trapping mine under his, and hands back to being shoved into my belt loops.

"Bold assumption, jackass," Sandman says, sinking to sit down as well, making himself comfortable next to us.

Shino simply flips his squad mate off. "If you were gonna get any tonight you'd be flirting up some girl instead of out here with your boyfriend and his girlfriend," he adds before falling quiet again.

"Maybe I'll try to flirt up Kiba's girl. Give her a nice three-some," Kankuro says, winking at me before sending a teasing blown kiss my way.

"Back off," Kiba growls, attention turned towards his boyfriend. "I'll drag your ass in the yard too. Tamari can patch up two loser assholes tonight."

"Oh ya? You think you're hot shit?" His friend eggs on. "I could go for a sparring match. If you win, I'll back off. If I win, I get seven minutes in heaven with your girl."

"I'm going to kill you," Kiba barks, tearing himself away from and giving in to the easy setup. Kankuro dashes into the yard, my boyfriend hot on his heels.

"I don't know what's worse. The fact that Kankuro wouldn't actually do shit to you or the fact that Kiba knows it," Shino mumbles, turning his attention to the cat-and-mouse game going on. Akamaru has joined the chase, running after the two men.

"So... Kankuro started shit for no reason?"

Shino shrugs, eyes trailing after the group running circles in the yard. "He probably started shit to get Tamari off his ass."

"Hey, yo!" Someone calls from the kitchen. "Kiba's about to rock Kankuro's shit." The kitchen starts to buzz, people filtering out from the house to watch my boyfriend pick another fight.

"Here we go again," Shino groans, sitting up and shifting closer to me. "I have no clue how you deal with him. Want to be boxer, Kiba."

"I don't know how I deal with him either."

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