#BUT MY MEMORY IS ASS AND I KNOW I WOULD END HALF OF MY SENTENCES WITH 'BUT THATS JUST ME' 😭😭

[puppyeared]

does anyone else feel like they could be a really really good tour guide if the memory problems didnt exist

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Heyyy so I was thinking of how cool masquerade masks looks- and oh would you look at that a post

The Lady Of The Mask 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In a black and gold bedroom with a victorian style room was a boy in front of a black vanity putting on blush with a black and gold mask that is on a stand on the vanity the boy has long black hair with ice blue eyes

As he finished putting on blush and picked up the mask he started to think about how he got here and got the title of

•The Lady Of The Mask•

———————————————————

His parents turned him into the G.I.W hands after they found out they wanted them to “Fix” him and what good that did all he has from that place is scars and the memories after one of them was trying transport him to a different room when they thought he was out, new flash he wasn’t he broke free of his restraints with the little screen he had left and fled and kept flying until he found a natural portal and as he went through he closed it from the other side

As he looks around he noticed that instead of the random floating islands and green sky he was expecting he saw a large room with large mirrors that took up the wall and when he looked up he saw a picture of a part of space no living thing has ever been [and probably never will be]

That’s when he realized that wasn’t a natural portal when he comes to the realization he hears foot steps behind him as he turns he comes face to face with a tall woman wearing a long black rob over her body but the parts that were visible were a sickly green where her vines should be

She explains that she is The Lady of the mask and someone needs to take her place so when she saw him she chose him to take her place and take care of everything and gives him a black box with gold accents on it

And than she just leaves.

As Danny opens the box he sees a Gold mask with black accents with a note explaining what his new role is and what he has to do, he has to

Make sure deals are up held

Take care of the Manner

He can do that but at the end of the note he sees a single sentence

“Keep the Mask safe if you do it will keep you safe”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now onto the DC part of this thing!

Constantine needed to make a deal with the one person he really didn’t want too, the JL idiots messed with something they shouldn’t have had messed with now all of them have to fix this and for the person he doesn’t want to make a deal with is

The Lady of The Mask

The Lady as many call them is known to make sure that all deals made with them are up held and if not while no one really knows as no one has come back from whatever they did to them

Yet here he was making the summing circle for them all he can do to try to up hold his end of the deal

But at what cost?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now onto my fav part the details!

For Danny I’m thinking something like this

With this as a second outfit if he’s not wearing this or fighting ( because he’s a badass bitch like that )

And for hair ( most of the time hidin under his hat) is this

And just cause here is what the manner looks like and the ballroom

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

And that’s about it for this one, I had a hard time with this one I had to redo the plot like three times lol and if anyone wants to use this or add on feel free to I kinda half-assed it at the end due to being tired

But I hope you all like it see you gremlins later byeeee

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 7

Warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, oral sex, praise.

Part 7:

The Uber ride was quiet. They sat in the back, and Liana’s leg was twitching nervously while Art sat at the other end, trying to calm himself from jumping on her in a stranger’s car. They entered his room quietly, and the second he locked the door, Liana found herself trapped between the blonde guy in front of her and the, now, closed door.

His mouth didn’t wait for a special invitation, eager to reach every exposed spot. Their lips met in another sloppy kiss, full of saliva as they explored each other’s taste. His hands began to explore her body, slowly running over her curves, rediscovering her as he walked backward, guided by her to the bed. When he sat on the edge, expecting her to sit on top of him, she collapsed in front of him on all fours, and he couldn’t hide his surprise. "You don’t have to." His voice was half-hoarse as she unbuttoned his jeans. She just gave a wicked smile and looked up at him for a moment. Her eyes sparkled, and her light makeup was slightly smudged. Her lips were swollen and redder than usual from Art's assault on them. The thought of those lips being so close to his dick made something dark come out of him, almost animalistic. "You really don’t have to," he managed to say again, only making her pull down his boxers faster and see that he was already semi-hard. She still hadn’t touched him; he still hadn’t grabbed her ass or put one of her nipples in his mouth, and he was already semi-hard. He didn’t know what was happening to his body, but he closed his eyes for a second to take a deep breath. Liana took advantage of that to give a small kiss to the tip of him, as if appreciating the fact that he was so close to her. He had to look at her. Her eyes didn’t leave Art's face for a moment. She looked so submissive, on all fours in front of him. "Is this the first time—" he felt the need to ask, remembering their earlier conversation about her not agreeing to sleep with James or Jake or whatever that fucker’s name was. "No. I did everything with him except sex…" she mumbled, seeing his nod. "Then go ahead. Be good." Art’s voice was amused but authoritative, as if there was no room for argument, though there was. Be good. Be fucking good. She smiled and took as much of him into her mouth as she could in one go. "Fuck, Li." He didn’t expect the euphoria that came with her lips around him. Clasping his dick as a bit of her saliva dripped down her chin. He gave her a few seconds without moving, "Do you even know how beautiful you are like this?" he said, trying to etch this image into his memory. She moaned at that sentence directly on his dick, making him moan as well. "Come on, Li, you can do better than that." He said after he saw her start with slight forward-backward movements, which immediately made her pick up the pace. So eager to please him that he could cum just from the thought of all the things Liana Levy would let him do with her. "Deeper, Li, do you need help, or can you do it alone?" he asked in a broken voice, making her move a bit more on his dick and gag on it. He felt her throat tighten for a second before she coughed and pulled away from him to breathe, expelling an unreasonable amount of saliva on herself. Her eyes watered, and her makeup was already completely smudged from the effort as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. "Turn your head, Li," Art decided to take advantage of the moment she was recovering, and she complied, seeing herself in the mirror behind her. "You’re a mess," he whispered, and they both chuckled. "So beautiful like this." He ran a hand through her hair, pulling it away from her face. "Get back to it." He wanted to command but even with his softest voice, she just turned back and took most of him into her mouth, she gently placed his hand on her head while he groaned. "Yeah? You want me to help you choke on my dick, Li?" his voice almost disappeared again. He couldn't believe his luck. He wasn’t sure if he could hold on much longer like this. "All this so I’ll know you’re really good?" he continued, trying to look at her and seeing her nod, another moan escaped them both as she gagged again. This time his stabilizing hand didn’t let her pull away from him. "You can take it for me, I know you can." She smiled and, if it were possible, took him even deeper.

He felt his pre-cum already filling her mouth and released his grip, giving her the chance to pull away to breathe, but she clumsily placed his hand back where it was. "Fuck Li, if I had known you wanted me in your mouth this much, I would have given you my dick years ago," he muttered, half to her and half to himself at this point. He couldn’t keep his coherence. "Liana baby, if you don’t move now, I’m going to cum down your throat," he said, the thought of it making him close his eyes and moan, while she, on her part, stayed in place. "Oh fuck." He said, feeling his eyes roll back for a second as she swallowed everything that came out of him, and only when she finished did she allow herself to pull back and take in fresh air into her lungs. "Come here," Art managed to mumble. She stood in front of him, still breathing heavily as he skillfully removed her sweater, leaving her in tights with shorts over them and a bra. He kissed her deeply after giving her a few more seconds to gather air into her lungs. The taste he left in her mingled with her own, and Art was ready to swear he had never tasted anything better. "Are you okay?" he paused and looked into her eyes, standing for a moment and examining her as she nodded with a smile. "Use your words, Li," he said, starting to remove her shorts. "Yes, everything's fine, Art," her voice was hoarse from all the effort, and he couldn't help but smile. "You sound so good, baby," it rolled off his tongue, calling her 'baby' As if their whole lives had been just like this, as if they never argued about anything. As if there had always been so much depth and layers to their relationship. She stood in front of him in panties and a bra, and he couldn't stop looking at her. "Lie down on the bed, Li," he said, not taking his eyes off her for a moment as she did exactly what he asked. He arranged the pillow under her and ran a hand over her face, trying to wipe away some of the fluids and putting two fingers in her mouth, not deeply. "Your mouth took me so well," he whispered, hearing her moan beneath him as his lips began to travel over her body. He skillfully removed her bra, and his mouth found its way to her nipple quickly, while his hand played with the other. Her sounds were probably the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. "Do you want to wake up my parents?" he looked at her amused, with her breast still in his mouth. His tongue attacked her from all sides, and his teeth left a mark as a souvenir. "Fuck, Art." Her hand found its way into his hair, not pulling but playing with one of his curls, encouraging him to continue as he trailed kisses down her stomach and blew small breaths that sent shivers through her. "Don't be a tease…" she found the words despite the emotional whirlwind she was experiencing. "Yeah? You don't like that?" Another deep breath, right near her groin.

"Arthur!" her voice was deep and reprimanding, causing him to chuckle. "Okay, okay," he mumbled and removed her panties. "Fuck, Li. You're completely wet." He managed to say, feeling his dick starting to harden again. He began to work gently on her clit in circular motions, holding her thigh with one hand so she wouldn't instinctively close her legs. "Art," his name in that desperate tone from her lips sounded like his favorite song, and his fingers started to work on her entrance. One finger slid in easily and began to move back and forth as his mouth increased its pace.

"Li, baby, I need you to be quiet." He gave a small kiss and looked at her from below, seeing pure bliss on her face and returning to what he was doing before, only this time his own desperation grew. He added another finger and felt her starting to tighten around him. "Are you close?" he asked, and she nodded and sighed quietly. "So good to me, Liana," his voice was muffled, full of her juices as he continued to eat her as if she were his last meal. With those words, she sighed again, trying to stifle the moan that escaped her as she came. Art hated the fact that he missed the look on her face when it happened. Making a mental note that next time he made her come- he would watch her. She trembled slightly as he withdrew his hand from her and lay down beside her. "Do you want to?" she opened tired eyes and looked at him, checking if he wanted to continue. And of course he wanted to. It was probably the thing he wanted most right now. "Liana, we’re not going to have sex for the first time while we’re half-drunk after a party at Josh’s house and my parents are sleeping downstairs." He rolled his eyes and ran a hand over her face, pushing dark hair behind her ear. "Do you want me to help you with that?" she asked, glancing at his renewed erection. "I’ll manage, get in the shower..." he sighed, but his voice was amused. He didn’t want to push his luck more than he already had. Liana went into the shower attached to his room while he masturbated with the fresh memories of this night. He chuckled when she came out, clean and dressed in his oversized Stanford shirt. He quickly washed himself and lay down beside her. Usually, he didn’t do this. He always found an excuse to end the night after sex. It wasn’t always pleasant, but it was always necessary. The thought of sending Liana home didn’t cross his mind for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked once more, examining her and seeing she was half asleep. "Yes, Art. Are you okay?" she replied, and he recognized the teasing tone mixed with amusement. "Okay," he said, chuckling, pulling her close to him as much as he could. Tomorrow they would deal with the consequences of this day. Right now, as his lips brushed the top of her head and he heard her breathing becoming heavier and heavier, a feeling of harmony took over him. He was holding Liana Levy, and he didn’t know where he would find the strength to let her go.

How are we feeling?! Pls talk to me, I'm dying here. To all my Patrick girls, he'll come back, I promise. Again, if you want to join the taglist just ask

taglist:

@swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109

[milogreer]

so uhh this is gonna be scatterbrained. but i'm gonna ramble about milo and (what little info we have on) colm. sorry in advance if it doesn’t make sense i just had to exorcise this demon 🫡

i believe "camping with your alpha boyfriend (2021)" is the earliest mention of colm in an audio. obviously we don't actually know milo's side of things because it's told from david's POV, but we still get the mental image of little thirteen year old milo sitting shotgun in his dad's pickup as they drive to their camping spot. gabe's goofing around in the truck bed to make david and asher laugh, and colm joins in the fun by swerving the truck to mess with gabe. very basic dad thing to do, my dad's done the exact same thing to me and my siblings. it feels familiar and silly, and david frames it as a good memory, so it feels like a good memory. which is important to the point of this post

in "celebrating the new house (2022)," we get a little more colm lore:

My dad was forever blowing any cash he made on fucking bets and gambling and shit, chasing some fucking high. My mom was the only reason we didn’t end up out on the fucking street. He didn’t pull his head out of his ass and get some help until after I’d already moved out. So I never got to have that feeling of being in a house that was actually ours, ya know?

already this is a stark contrast to what we've previously heard of colm (i don't think there's any real mention of him between sept 2021 and dec 2022?) and it kinda makes me look at that old memory in a different light, especially with regards to david saying marie was "nagging [colm's] ear off about being irresponsible and a bad example." like. ykwim? like i'm just thinking about that interaction and wondering how far along those problems were at the time, if they were present at all. was this a normal, fun family outing? or would milo have rather been in the truck bed with david, asher, and gabe?

(and the fact that it wasn't until after milo moved out that colm tried getting any help?? i could make a whole other post speculating about milo struggling with wanting to move out of that environment ASAP vs not wanting to leave marie on her own to deal with colm)

so then i'm re-listening to "your werewolf boyfriend is worried about you" and having a visceral reaction to (re-)learning that colm was also an alcoholic:

But what he chose to do with that frustration and that feeling of powerlessness was not his job’s fault, those were his choices. He’s the one who decided to lose himself in booze and gambling and never being home. Never being there for the people he said he loved but apparently couldn’t stand to be around.

the last sentence especially is just an absolute heartbreaker because milo's, what, thirty now? and he's been dealing with this since he was a kid. clearly he's not on great terms with colm. the only times he ever talks about him is when he's shit talking the department. that is a crazy weight for someone to carry their whole life. i don't have experience with the gambling side but i do have an alcoholic family member who i used to be really close to as a kid but grew up to intensely resent as a result of his actions, so it hits a little close to home to see that reflected in milo

but i digress. umm. i bring up the camping story to highlight the most recent mention of colm from milo and how there were good times and sometimes maybe it hurts to remember them when the person involved devastated you as you grew up because they weren't what you thought they were. and how these things follow you through life and impact how you approach certain things. milo has to live with the fact that the same system that royally fucked colm is potentially going to do the same thing to the love of his life; i never drink more than one shot or half a beer, if i drink at all, and i don't like being around drunk people. even though we don't hear about colm very often, his influence is still there whenever milo has to deal with the department in any way

anyway i guess TLDR; imagine living the majority of your thirty years of life feeling like your dad couldn't stand to be around you because he was too busy drinking himself stupid and gambling away every penny he had as a way to deal with the strain that his job put on him. imagine having to witness your mom struggle constantly to keep you cared for. imagine the few good childhood memories you have with your dad being overshadowed by thinking he didn't love you or your mom enough to change. imagine watching the department run your soulmate into the dirt physically and mentally the same way it did your father and wanting to be supportive of them but also being so worried for them. it's a really interesting situation for him to be in and i enjoy it but it hurts me. the end

[purpleandstarlight]

It continues @hateweasel

-I never listened to Fly me to the moon - but I always connect it to a canon kiss between two queer characters in a trilogy I really like bc after it one of them goes back to his room while humming it. Then that arc of yours with the crazy villain dude who sang it came and past me was afraid it would ruin my good memory associated with the song (but I genuinely forgot it until now).

-I wasn't impressed with that arc's villain's intelligence and didn't understand his beef with Ciel since from what I understood back then it was his own fault for touching sacred objects wrong??? Like don't be surprised if you get cursed while playing with ancient magic artifacts dude...(not criticism towards the author, just the character who's being needlesly petty lmao)

-I then said, and i have really no context for it but that just makes it funnier: "Ciel seems unimpressed...Wich is peak Ciel behavior, but this time he's right." I guess it was about the arc's villain?

- Cameron [about Alois, Ciel and Audrey]: They are horrible supernatural creatures that kill people!!!!

Me back then: Bestie, Audrey is just half reaper? He doesn't do a reaper job either??? And reapers don't kill anyway they just collect the souls of the dead???

(I understood that he was manipulated by the villain so he probs got a lot of shit wrong. Before the whole "trying to get back with Kris while he's amnesiac", me and my friend gave him the benefit of the doubt and defended him a bit. But reading this now its still funny to me)

-Me shitting on the arc's villain name with my friend. I didn't even remember the whole name but I was sure it sucked and we were very vocal about it (again, bullying the character, not the author). I just generally had beef with the dude ig, I realized just now that I kept insulting him for everything...

-i was SO hype about the rest of the 7 going around spying Cielois on a date...wich. understandable. It's peak me behavior. I'm there for the funny hijinks. You actually call them "the backseat boys" while they're on a taxi in that chapter, i realize in my first reread, and it always makes me lose it for the giggles since I assume it's a reference to the backstreet boys? I don't know them I just know the name but ITS A FUNNY PUN.

-Oh God DaffyDucks's introduction chapter...The moment he was fighting with the seven to sit next to Alois my gaydar buzzed, no lie. After he started being sleazy with Alois, I was genuinely just creeped out and annoyed by him troughtout the whole arc and never really stopped. I hate him even now. I cheered when Ciel kicked his ass.

-DLTD: By that afternoon, Ciel had rid himself of the rest of the sensational seven

Me: LOL

DLTD: ...(including Alois)

Me: ... :(

Me: NO WAIT I MISREAD!! IT SAYS EXCLUDING!!! :DD

(Genuine Rollercoaster of emotions I had while reading that single sentence)

-Gabriel Bailey saying he would stop being a cop made me so sad. I was like "More power to you but I'm gonna miss you dude" cause I thought we wouldn't see him again?

Then my friend said "You know, cops saying they will stop being cops in fiction is usually a death flag" and I shat myself.

-I genuinely said (and I'm Copypasting) "NHA BC CIEL AND DAFFYDUCK DO BE HAVING SOME TENSION IF U KNOW WHAT I MEAN 💀" and then i followed it with (not Copypasting but translating in english) "Nha I'm kidding. Daffyduck isn't blonde he's got no chance."

-I said this at like 4 am. At 11:31 I then barged into the chatroom after this hours long silence with "Okay so DaffyDuck is an ally now but I still hate his guts".

- I then said "In the end DaffyDuck was working with the bad guys like i thought at the beginning of the arc but he was only being manipulated. I gave him much more importance than what he has." and my friend jokingly pointed out that a lot of people get manipulated in DLTD so I said "To be fair it's a common trope in every story, but not as many stories are so long as to have space for many repetition, so it's understandable that it happens a lot in this"

[xx-psych0-rabbit-xx]

i need your know your thoughts on fecto elfilis in general bc i lovelovelove your interpretation from what ive seen and i wanna see More So So Bad

AKSYSKJSKS YOU!!! YOURE GONNA MAKE ME BLUSHHH ok ok elfilis thoughts lets seeee

-ive already said this before but i very much go w the interpretation their mind worked like the fermi paradox dark forest theory:theyre extremely paranoid of any other life forms and they see them as nothing but threats to their survival, so they exterminate whole planets therefore conquering them, the good in them was essentially overshadowed by their severe self preservation urges, their failed attack on the forgotten planet and resulting consequences also served as cementing their paranoia that other species are inherently dangerous

-their origins are completely unclear to them and theyve never met another of their own species, they simply came to be one day, tbh growing up as a planet warping alien without anyone to give you an idea of what a moral compass is and whos dangerous and whos not is probably the root cause of them growing terrified of everything and seeing everyone as threats and deciding that means everyone has to die before they can even think of hurting them

-elfilis personality is weird in my view? theyre on a weird line between conscious and having no self awareness, specially when attacking, if actually given a standard healthy environment to fully form it in theyd probably be a bit similar to a (tad mean) child mindset for a while, that did however not happen so their mind ended up splitting in two because it couldnt handle it together anymore after the lab experiments (ayy i found a way to work more plural metaphors into the split), ig in a way you could see forgo and elfilin as the two ways elfilis could have resulted, one grew up in the lab surrounded by people who saw them as a test subject and entertainment source w elfilis memories and the other actually got to bond with others and be treated well

-they did however when lucid (for lack of a better term) (i mean i already headcanon forgo as psychotic so lizzie probably was too) have a bit of an ego issue with being overly confident in how many successful invasions they had done, those were very much power and safety fantasies to them at times

-they can communicate normally w full sentences! thats a forgo exclusive issue having to do w its brain mal forming from the eternity capsule screwing with its reformation and growth from the elfilis goop

-their "species" (its just them theyre the species) are immortal and fully asexual and aromantic, i think their thoughts on gender and pronouns would range from the "we use he/him for him but he doesnt really care" meme to "stop perceiving me i am going to kill you."

-the accident with them was kinda like if you put a hamster in the microwave but instead of exploding it melts into goo.and the result was also their whole ass identity split into two new ones.

-this isnt rly a lis headcanon but i just wanted to bring it up to explain the previous point:the way i see the entire "oops we split in half" accident is their body melted and split, elfilin spent most of that time after escaping as unconscious goop that very slowly throughout the years after the planets population ascended into the stars formed into the the child version of elfilis again, forgo is a deformed overgrown fetus because they tried rushing their body stability with the tube fluids, which instead trapped them as immediately conscious in stasis while their body was stuck expanding the fetus form and not becoming solid at all (i actually see that the reason its right ear is losing shape is because theyve begun straight up deteriorating from being in the tube fluids for over a century by that point)

-a consequence of going w the interpretation forgo and elfilis are separate is theres not much to say abt them bc theyre essentially a character exclusive to the games backstory since their identity died after splitting into two.i miss them </3

[aliashborn]

Natasha's Symbiote in Marvel: CH 3: Agreement

<a little change, Natasha has long hair here instead. The reason? Have you seen the images that I posted of her and how hot she is with long hair ಠಿ_ಠ ಠ◡ಠ? By the way, she's 5'9 in this fanfic, because of that "zipper" pic ಠ◡ಠ. Or should she be taller? Tall women are sexy>

Looking at the face that would horrify even grown ass men and would give children nightmares, Natasha surprisingly wasn't that freaked out as she sighed through her nose with a raised eyebrow :"I guess Symbiotes look like each other after all. But oh well, screw it, it's useful for intimidation and getting information."

One of Ali's eyes expanded, as if he was also raising his eyebrow :"do you perhaps not like this appearance?"

Natasha curled her lips as she tried to explain without offending him :"Well, normal humans tend to freak out when a being with teeth for half of its face shows up. So it's not like I dislike it, but it's that a lot of people will annoy you for it."

Ali obviously knew it, but he seriously thought that Klyntars were just badass. Seriously, Klyntars were the baddest motherfuckers to ever motherfuck!

But well, not everybody shared the same opinion as him. And even though he really didn't give a shit about anybody's opinion, he didn't want to go on a massacre because of some dumbasses making fun of Natasha.

Ali made a look of realization as he nodded :"ohh, okay, okay. Well, I can change it. How about this then?"

Natasha watched as he got smaller as his teeth also shrank with him. The end result was that a terrifying creature that could fuck up the world just became one of the cutest things in it!

The ends of Ali's lips stretched upwards as he tilted his head :"well? How about this look and appearance then?"

Natasha was speechless as her plump lips were separated from each other :"who would've ever thought that those creatures that can cause so much chaos can look so cute... Alright, it's good. Remember to look like this from now on, okay?"

Ali nodded with an adorable smile, causing Natasha to smile a little as well :"got it. Now, let's see how we will get my food."

Natasha nodded with a small smile as she took out her phone and sat down on the bed. Ali hadn't strengthened her at the moment, so her phone didn't shatter when she grabbed it.

After all, if he had made her stronger, she would definitely freak out a little when her gun and dagger were crushed in her hands.

After Natasha typed what is phenethylamine and in what foods it can be found in, her smile grew bigger :"found it!

Foods high in phenylethylamine include nuts, citrus fruits, chocolates, "moldy" cheeses, and vinegar. Well, it seems like the food problem is solved."

Ali's smile also stretched wider as he nodded with a hum :"happy to hear that! Now that the food problem is solved, do you wanna hear about the benefits that I've brought you?"

When his words fell, she smiled at the memories of the strength and abilities shown by other Symbiotes :"yes, I do.

From what I have seen the other Symbiotes can do, I have high hopes. And since you said that you are special among the Symbiotes, then I'm looking forward to it even more."

Ali chuckled as he nodded with a smile :"Well, if you have seen other Symbiotes, you already know that giving super strength, super speed, super durability are common.

I also have strengthened you to a hellish degree. But I had kinda deactivated it so that you wouldn't freak out, since you could easily turn your gun into scrap metal."

Natasha had grown serious, so she wasn't smiling anymore. But when Ali finished his sentence, she frowned with a raised eyebrow :"So you can just choose for me to be strong or not when we're bonded?"

Ali sighed helplessly at how paranoid she was and nodded :"yes, I can. But don't worry, I won't do it unless necessary. Like just now.

Alright, let me explain how much I've strengthened you with just these three common abilities.

Now that we're bonded, you can lift at least 50 tons with ease, can move at least at 1'500 MPH, twice the speed of sound, and can just ignore bullets."

Natasha's eyes went wide a little bit, but she calmed down as she nodded with a serious face :"yeah, I have seen how Venom and Carnage are able to flip over cars and even throw them blocks away with it.

There have also been reports of bullets not having any effect on them at all. The speed that they've shown is also very impressive.

So you're saying that I have all of those right now even without turning to look like a hulking monstrosity?"

Ali had a blank face as he looked at his host :"Natasha, you're seriously judgemental towards the appearance of my race, you know?"

Natasha blushed a little as she apologized :"alright, I'm sorry, okay? It's just that your looks and appearances are rather... odd to us... Ahem ahem, anyway, let's get back to the subject."

Ali couldn't roll his eyes, but it still didn't stop him from trying as he sighed :"alright, I guess you will get used to it.

Yes, that's one of the reasons for why I'm special. I don't need to fully cover you to make you stronger.

However, me doing that will also bring you great benefits. If there is something that can harm you, I can absorb the damage instead of you and act like an armor.

Also, because of me being able to shapeshift, I can create weapons or other things to help you in battle."

Natasha nodded with a thoughtful look as she gently pinched her chin between her fingers :"I see.

Don't worry, I wasn't going to ask you to always stay hidden. What about your weaknesses? The reports that I have read about Symbiotes state that your kin is very weak to fire and high frequency sounds."

Ali smirked smugly as he snickered :"another thing that makes me special. You see, unlike other Symbiotes, I'm actually completely immune to sound waves.

In fact, the louder a sound is, the more it will excite and stimulate me! But the weakness to fire is still there, so you should be careful."

Natasha sighed in relief as she nodded :"happy to know that I can still attend parties. Otherwise, Tony, another hero, wouldn't really like you. Any other powers or weaknesses that you should tell me?"

Ali's smirk grew bigger as his teeth returned to their original form slightly :"a few, actually. You see, I'm not special because of my immunity to high frequency sounds.

The reason why I'm special is because of my ability to adapt unstoppably! You may think that it's nothing much, but I can adapt to anything.

Heck, even fire is just a temporary weakness. My adaptability is so strong that I can adapt to anything in a matter of seconds, minutes at most!"

This time Natasha was surprised. Her eyes went wide as her strategic mind processed just how horrifying this ability is :"so you're saying that as long as you're not obliterated in a single second or attack, you will adapt to it?!"

Ali nodded with his smile still on his face :"yes, and once I adapt to it, I will be completely immune to it.

And I should correct you on someone, Natasha, I can't die. Even though almost all of us Klyntars can regenerate rapidly, my regenerative power is just on a whole nother level!

Think of it like this. Even if a knife cuts your hand, the wound is completely healed the moment it appears.

Think of that, and imagine it as thousands of times stronger. That's how strong my regenerative power is!

So even though I'm not invincible, you don't have to worry about dying. Because even a single drop of your blood is more than enough for me to completely heal you!

By the way, even if I die, I can actually come back to life. And if that happens, I will be forever immune to the cause of my death."

Natasha was shocked, completely surprised since her Symbiote just said that he defies death. But she still kept calm as she raised an eyebrow :"Are Symbiotes supposed to know everything about themselves the moment they're born, or are you just bragging?"

Ali rolled his eyes, it was obvious this time with how his eyes expanded a bit :"I don't brag, Natasha. I always tell the truth when it comes to my abilities.

I'm not one to overestimate myself, I will just say the truth and the facts. The reason why I know I can't be killed and will come back even if I die, is because I have been killed before."

Natasha was confused as she raised her beautiful eyebrow :"what? Didn't you say that I'm your first host? How have you died before?"

Ali sighed with an annoyed look :"you see, most Klyntars don't really like their offsprings that much. That was the case for my parent.

Mine didn't really like me, and because of its host not wanting a competition and a Klyntar that can become as strong as my parent, they decided to kill me.

Which they were successful since they used extremely high frequency sounds and some special means such as mind control to kill me.

However, because of my adaptability and regenerative powers, I came back to life when they had left because of thinking that they had succeeded.

And because of that, I'm now immune to both high frequency sounds and mind control. So you don't need to worry about any being trying to play mind games with either of us."

<In case you haven't read the auxiliary chapter about Ali's powers, Klyntars can't die unless they want to.

The reason why they have been killed is because they have gone through so much pain that they gave up.

The logic in Ali's case is that a being who knew about this ability that the Klyntars have decided to make sure that he's dead.

So the said being used mind control to get Ali away from the Symbiote that the being has and get him where the high frequency sounds won't effects its own Symbiote.

And after making Ali reach the point where he wants to give up, it used the mind control to make Ali self destruct. But unfortunately for those two, Ali came back to life and lost two of the three weaknesses that he has!>

Natasha was quiet for a moment before she nodded with a gentle sigh :"must be rough, huh? To have your own parent want to kill you."

Ali sighed as well as he tilted his head left and right a few times :"I'll admit, it's not the most pleasant feeling, but what's done is done.

And besides, I didn't really know my parent since those two assholes seemed to have decided to kill me even before I was born."

Ali smirked as he raised an eyebrow :"So now that you know about my oh so sad origin story, do you want to help me get revenge once we grow stronger than ever possible?"

Natasha smirked as well as she flipped her long, crimson hair back :"Well, the offer of such power is too tempting.

I would be a fool to pass out on it when I have seen just how strong a normal Symbiote is. And you have the potential to be so much stronger.

You also promised that you won't harm innocent people and even if you eat, you will only eat bad guys.

Alright then, I agree to be your host. I hope that we will be able to trust each other from now on, partner.

I know that you already know my name, but let me introduce myself. My name is Natasha Romanoff AKA Black Widow, it's nice to meet you, Majesty."

Ali chuckled as he created a hand and raised it for her to shake, which she did with a smile :"nice to meet you, Natasha. Happy teaming up with you."

[reikuto]

CONTENT! quirkless!au, bakudeku, angst, established relationship. SUMMARY! completely inspired by the movie little fish. this is NOT my idea. in a world where there’s a global memory-loss pandemic called neuro inflammatory affliction, katsuki struggles to help izuku keep his memories. A/N! enjoy!! (p.s. this fic takes places over the course of several months!!!) UNEDITED. i was too excited to post!!!!!! GO WATCH LITTLE FISH, ITS FREE ON AMAZON PRIME

HE SHOULDN’T HAVE IGNORED THE SIGNS. it’s not like he hadn’t seen the news; the fisherman who jumped off his boat to swim home, the marathon runner who forgot to stop running, the pilot who forgot how to fly a plane mid flight, katsuki had seen it all and yet he shrugged it off. instead he’d shift his focus to the man beside him, who somehow always uttered the most factually incorrect sentences in hopes of getting a reaction out of the blond. bakugou katsuki would narrow his eyes at the freckled man, whose lips quirked up into a knowing smirk. “was it something i said?” izuku midoriya chuckles, sliding the blonde his coffee.

“that’s not what happened.” katsuki scoffs, bringing his mug to his lips. “but whatever.”

“you sure?” izuku cocks an eyebrow. “pretty sure that’s how it went down.”

“nope,” katsuki says simply, resisting the urge to take the bait. “it’s alright though, i know you’re just trying to piss me off.”

it’s never been anything but a stupid joke; a silly way they - mostly izuku - would poke fun at each other. the freckled man would smile cheekily as he spewed out some half-assed version of the truth and katsuki would roll his eyes before almost always giving izuku the exact reaction he wanted. in the end, it never mattered, the blonde would still begrudgingly accept the shorter man’s soft kisses and teasing apologies. it was never serious, it was never supposed to be serious, katsuki was never supposed to feel genuine fear inking through him when izuku recalled a memory incorrectly.

the government said there was no known cure for NIA; there was no avoiding it, no preventing it, no stopping it. people would inevitably forget their memories, some steadily and others in one fell swoop, but they’d lose it nonetheless. katsuki believed - prayed - that somehow he and izuku would be spared, that there was some sort of immunity and they had been fortunate enough to get it.

there wasn’t.

for izuku midoriya it happened slowly, over the course of six months. katsuki didn’t know if he was supposed be grateful for the steady decline; while it gave them more time together, it only made it harder to witness the man he loved lose everything that made him…him. the first sign of NIA that katsuki had recognized in izuku occurred on a chilly saturday morning. walking back to their shared apartment, hand in hand, when izuku nodded at a restaurant they’d frequent at and said: do you think that place is any good?

it took a couple seconds for his question to register, but when it did, katsuki brought the two of them to a halt. “what did you say?”

“hm?” izuku innocently turned to katsuki. “i asked if you thought it looked like it was any good.”

“are you being serious?”

“yes?” izuku laughed. “it’s close to our place, we should check it out.”

“we’ve been eating there for months, deku.” katsuki frowned, and the way izuku’s smile faltered made him wish he would’ve just kept his mouth shut.

katsuki refused to give up though, adorning every picture in their apartment with sticky notes of names, ages, and their relationship to izuku. he’d talk about their childhood at dinner, ignoring the pang in his chest at izuku’s reactions as if these memories weren’t his too. he’d let izuku spend hours scrolling through social media, grateful that their friends had always documented every birthday and outing. he’d watch izuku take in the pictures and videos in awe, with only one thought on his mind: why was the universe trying to take izuku away?

one early morning, when izuku thought katsuki was still asleep, he had gotten up and stared at the pictures littered on their dresser. katsuki watched with a knot in his throat as izuku’s fingers delicately traced the frames, the way his hands trembled as he picked them up, and the way he looked around their apartment as if he were a guest sleeping over for the first time.

katsuki sat up then, his rustling garnering the attention of izuku, who only stared at him silently. katsuki could almost see the gears turning in his head when at last, izuku said, “bakugou?”

katsuki ignored the churn in his stomach because this didn’t mean anything. they could still get past this, the fact that izuku still knew his name is a good thing right? katsuki just had to work a little harder to make izuku remember details.

“kacchan,” katsuki corrected gently. “you call me kacchan.”

“kacchan,” izuku repeated, and katsuki felt the relief wash over him when he sees izuku smile. “good morning, kacchan.”

unfortunately, katsuki wasn’t always as successful, such as the time he and and izuku were cuddled on the couch watching tv when izuku’s phone started ringing. with a sigh, izuku picked up his phone and glanced at the screen before tossing it aside.

“who was it?” katsuki asked, absentmindedly playing with izuku’s fingers as he watched tv.

“someone named uraraka.”

katsuki tore his eyes from the television to look at izuku’s phone. “you’re not gonna answer?”

“i don’t know an uraraka.” izuku shrugged.

bakugou’s eyes furrowed, picking up the remote to lower the volume. “yeah you do. ochako uraraka? we graduated with her.”

izuku remained silent for a couple seconds, “what was she like?“

fuck. “uh…short, round cheeks, nice.”

izuku laughed, and the sound eases katsuki’s heart. “that doesn’t really help, kacchan.”

katsuki took his hand off of izuku’s, crossing his arms as he tried to think of any information on the girl. “you dated her for a while. a long time ago. you’re still friends though.”

“oh,”

“listen, i don’t know her all that well but i know you two are close.” katsuki shrugged a shoulder. “she would’ve liked to talk to you.”

izuku didn’t respond, instead he quietly got up from his spot beside katsuki and walked over to the kitchen. internally debating whether or not to answer the call and let izuku hear her, katsuki mumbled a curse word and stood up to follow him into the kitchen. he recognized that the shift in izuku’s expression meant that he was struggling to put pieces together.

“what’s your name?” katsuki urged.

izuku pursed his lips, grabbing a glass and pouring himself water. “i’m fine, kacchan, we don’t have to do this right now.”

“when’s your birthday?”

that question made izuku roll his eyes but nonetheless he answered, “june.”

katsuki barely succeeded in hiding the slight temble of his lips, “june what.”

izuku took a long sip of his water before setting the glass down, staring at the counter as he struggled to recall a date. “i don’t know.”

bakugou sighed, walking around the island to pull izuku into an embrace, who accepted it in defeat. katsuki squeezed him a bit tighter, taking a minute to appreciate izuku’s warmth. “july.”

“what?”

katsuki’s voice came out in a whisper, “your birthday’s july fifteenth.”

the two of them stood in silence, arms wrapped one another with the looming dread of the situation sitting heavy in the room. katsuki often wondered when he’d wake up from this nightmare, when it would all be over. katsuki didn’t think he was capable of facing the day izuku forgot him entirely.

“your birthday’s in april.” izuku stated softly, and it’s enough to have katsuki’s eyes welling up in tears. izuku never stated anything anymore, his words always carried traces of uncertainty, always waiting for katsuki to confirm or deny them.

“yeah, it is.” katsuki nodded, his hand reaching up to rest on the back of izuku’s head.

“you’re katsuki bakugou.” izuku was just speaking out loud now, reinstating what little he could remember. “you’re twenty-four.”

“keep going.”

“we met when we were…in kindergarten.” the confidence in izuku’s voice faltered. “you were mean to me.”

that made katsuki laugh, and he pulled away from their embrace to cradle izuku’s face in his hands. “yeah, i was real mean to you.”

“you’re crying,” izuku frowned, gentle hand reaching up to wipe katsuki’s cheek. “you don’t have to cry, i’m okay.” a lie.

katsuki closed his eyes, feeling another tear fall as he rested his forehead against izuku’s. “i love you, deku.”

“i love you too, kacchan.”

katsuki wanted to scream out into the sky. curse the world for taking izuku away from him like this. for taunting him with the crippling fear of waking up and finding that izuku’s doesn’t recognize him anymore. katsuki’s almost convinced himself that it’s a punishment. he’s finally paying for the years he spent being so negligent of others. why else was he being tormented like this? forced to watch izuku succumb to this virus, forced to watch izuku forget him, forced to watch as izuku stopped loving him. karma was the only logical explanation for the position he found himself in today, standing across from a distraught izuku midoriya in their shared bedroom, trying to remind the boy of his identity.

“hey, hey, could you stop for a second?” bakugou begs, trailing behind izuku as he leaves their bedroom in search for his clothes. “listen to me, deku.”

“that’s not my name.” izuku hisses as he snatches a pair of pants off the floor.

“please, just stop—“

“i’m sure we had a great time, but really, i need to go.” izuku apologizes as he zips up his pants, although his kindness is strained as he keeps his distance from the blond.

“you live here,” bakugou says, finally closing the distance between them to show izuku the photos on his phone. “we live here.”

on the screen was the two of them at mina’s halloween party a couple years ago, the picture capturing the moment izuku pressed a kiss on katsuki’s cheek. the blond slid his finger across the screen to reveal another picture, a selfie taken by izuku of the both of them cuddled up on their shared bed. izuku finally settles down, cautiously taking the phone from katsuki and swiping the screen. the next image was of them at the beach, izuku latched onto bakugous’s back with a big grin. the blonde can do nothing but watch in silence as the images register in izuku’s head.

after what felt like ages, izuku looked up at him with watery eyes. “i-i’m-i don’t—“

“it’s okay,” katsuki hushes, feeling his own blood pressure ease up once he wraps his arms around izuku. “just take a deep breath.”

izuku hesitantly reciprocates the hug, and katsuki feels the way his body instantly relaxes in his embrace. the dam broke then, izuku beginning to sob as he mumbles why can’t i remember anything? katsuki feels like someone is trying to pull his heart out of his chest, unable to do anything but murmur soft words as he gently rubs izuku’s back.

after a couple minutes, izuku’s cries finally soften, but katsuki still holds him in him arms. in fact, if it were up to him, he’d never let izuku go, maybe then izuku wouldn’t forget him. hands clenched around bakugou’s shirt, izuku exhales a breath before whispering, “april.”

“what about it,” katsuki pries gently, careful not to overwhelm him.

“y-your birthday’s in april.”

“that’s right.” katsuki nods, “keep going, deku. whatever you can remember.”

“you’re twenty-four.” twenty five now, but wasn’t going to tell izuku that today was his birthday.

“what about you, can you remember anything about yourself? the smallest thing.”

“my name is izuku...” he hums before abruptly pulling away from the embrace, “we talked about getting married.”

katsuki can’t hide the surprise on this face as he wipes away the tears on izuku’s cheeks. “you remember that?“

the conversation occurred earlier that year, barely a month after moving into their apartment and before the virus was brought onto society. they were chatting idly on their balcony while drinking wine — because deku is a grandma — while the hour pushed four in the morning. katsuki had never been one to stay up late, but he’d always cherish that night; no noise, no work keeping them apart, no hectic schedules, just izuku.

the topic of marriage had come up, and he easily recalled the way izuku’s cheeks had flushed. ‘we’ve only been living together for three weeks, kacchan.’ izuku had mumbled. is it so bad that i want to spend the rest of my life with you?’ kacchan had responded in a drunken haze - not that it didn’t reflect his true feelings. nonetheless they proceeded to talk about the must-haves at their wedding, bakugou butting in whenever izuku’s vision got a little bit too ambitious.

“i do remember. ” izuku smiles breathlessly, “and i think we should get married.”

“what?”

“i want to marry you, kacchan, while i’m still me.” izuku pleads as he takes katsuki’s hand in his. “while i still remember us.”

katsuki couldn’t say no even if he wanted to, he just wishes these weren’t the circumstances that they were getting married under. had this virus never occurred, he would’ve given izuku the wedding he knew he wanted, with all those stupid extras and their families gathered together. they’d take a sweet honeymoon and everything would be perfect because why wouldn’t it be, they were together.

instead, they both agreed on eloping secretly; katsuki’s parents had long succumbed to NIA while izuku had forgotten the existence of his mother entirely. their friends most likely had their own set of problems so it felt unfair to pressure them with premise of a wedding. besides, it wasn’t guaranteed that they remembered who katsuki and izuku even were. ever since izuku’s memory began to fade, katsuki hadn’t dedicated any time towards keeping up with any of them.

they found themselves in the lobby of a courthouse on the beautiful saturday morning of may second. katsuki couldn’t recall the last time izuku had looked so happy, hand squeezing his own, “i’ll be right back, yeah?”

katsuki gives him a small smile and watches as izuku goes into the bathroom. he feels the anxious churn of his stomach because holy shit he’s gonna marry izuku midoriya. the day he has long awaited is finally here, and maybe now it’ll be easier to remind izuku of the role katsuki has in his life. from now on, when izuku has his episode, katsuki can say ‘it’s me, your husband’ because that’s sure to hold more weight than boyfriend, right? from now on, izuku will have a ring on his finger to remind him that he has someone else in his life, even if katsuki isn’t right next to them. today feels like a hopeful step forward, and katsuki let’s himself get swept up in the potential of their future.

the anxiety that sat in his gut dissolves the longer katsuki stood in that lobby. he looks around the room and takes in the decorations, analyzes the occasional employee that walks by him, and his eyebrows furrow as he turns around and cautiously exits the building.

the sunlight hits katsuki’s face, making him squint out at the world around him. the grass on the buildings is dewey, the breeze is cool and slight against his cheeks, there are people walking their dogs and cars driving by. katsuki pats his body, feeling something in his pocket and shoving his hand inside to retrieve a phone. the screen lights up to reveal a wallpaper of sleeping man, drowning comfortably in sheets, his face hidden. when the phone asks for a passcode, katsuki scoffs, shoving the damned device back in his pocket.

“excuse me?”

katsuki turns around to meet the bright, green eyes of another man, and he can’t help but take a mental note of the freckles that adorned his nose and cheeks. “yeah?”

“did you by any chance see who i walked in with?” the man asks nervously. “i think i’m supposed to meet someone here but..i can’t remember.”

“no,” katsuki grunts stiffly, watching as the man’s face contorts into confusion.

“okay, well thanks.” he mutters, turning around and walking away, although it’s obvious that he doesn’t know where he’s going.

bakugou katsuki watches him leave, the remnants of something foreign in his chest that he can’t quite place.

[latastybastardfish]

Super Mario Bros -the third quest chapter 1

________________________________________

Before you start reading, my name's Kyle woodings, and I'm not gonna waste your time, if you're even vaguely into video games, you've definitely heard of the Nintendo franchise “super Mario bros” if you haven't heard about it, go look it up, it's just one Google search away and I'm not going to was time for people that already know about the funny Italian plumber princess rescue game series.

All of the events written here spawned over the whole of August and happened a year and 2 weeks ago, to say I'd rather forget about this wouldn't be as accurate to how I felt after this playthrough of Super Mario Bros. But there isn’t really any other way to put how I feel about what happened. To people that still have their copy of smb from 1985, please take this as a warning to not play quest two, it's the gateway to what I've been through.

____________________

August 2nd

It was August 2nd, I was hanging out with my friends at my house and we were all feeling a little nostalgic, so we dusted off my nes and a few games I didn't sell after I moved out of my parents place in 2004 when I turned 19. We had a blast of a time, playing the classics like duck hunt, Mega Man 2, Friday the 13th, etc. at around 8:34pm, after looking through one of my box for another few games, I found the one game I somehow didn't take out first, my copy of the original super Mario Bros. I looked all over the old, beaten up and slightly sun bleached cover, the memories of the good times of the 1988 summer started to flood back to me. Unfortunately, after what happened, I no longer look at this box and think of the good times.

Anyways, the next 30 minutes consisted of me and my friends playing the game, it was real fun even despite the glitches from the age of the game. Eventually we got to the last level and defeated Bowser for the last time, saving princess toadstool. We were just going to Play another game, but then Mark asked me something.

“Hey, Kyle. Isn't there like a second journey or something?” “yeah, the second quest” i responded “why'd you ask?” Mark started to smile slightly and said “how's about a little bet? Beat the second quest without picking up any power ups, using any warp pipes or gaining any extra lives” I scuffed slightly, not thinking Mark was serious “pfft, and what do I get out of this? you paying my rent this month if I do?” Mark shrugged and replied “if you succeed, sure”

I paused, not really sure how to respond to that. Yeah, Mark being willing to pay my rent if I beat a Mario game a second time sounded ridiculous, but I also knew Mark wasn't someone that would just say he'd do something if someone else won a bet. So I walked back over to the couch, plopped my ass down and grabbed the rectangle shaped controller, ready to win this bet. To say this to longer then quest one would be an understatement, not only any benefits super, fire or starman Mario would've given me were unusable, but due to me using warps pipes nine times out of ten when I play the original smb, I had to keep retrying whole levels and doing that one holding the a button on the menu trick just to win this bet.

But eventually, after an hour and a half, I jumped over Bowser and reached the axe, ending the final boss fight. After Mark and Andrew congratulated me, I put a sticky note that had “paying Kyle's rent this month” written on it on the back of his shirt (real mature, I'm aware) when I felt Jennifer's finger press the start/pause button and Heard the sound that occurs when you pause the game play. Before I could ask her why she paused the game, she said “is that… normally what peach says after you beat the game?” Confused, Mark and I looked at the screen and noticed that princess toadstool's dialogue/text was different from what she normally says after getting to the end. I unpaused the game and let the rest of the text load in, instead of text being a sentence along the lines of “thanks, your quest is over” the text read “i suppose thirty odd years has been a long enough wait for you to see the lands we hid from you, just please be careful”

To say that confused me and the others was a bit of an understatement, the game was not only acknowledging its age, but something in the game was unable to be accessed till now? None of this made any sense, but the sense of excitement upon discovering something new in one of my favourite games drew me in. So without really thinking, I pressed b and as soon as the menu popped up, I pressed start. The level started up, and I was hit with slight visual whiplash. Instead the level being 1-1 but with different enemies, the floor was desaturated to a slight grey, the sky was also darker and while there were blocks, they were glitched to all hell and were too high to be hit. A mushroom also fell from the top of the stage and onto Mario, glitching out the UI. and yet after getting the mushroom, I still couldn't hit the damn blocks.

All I could do was run straight and hope to find a flagpole, all the while a crappy Melody played in the background. It sounded like someone tried remaking the world 1-1 theme before getting bored and randomly placing notes in hopes of making something that sounds good. Eventually, Mario stopped moving as the sound that plays when you reach the flagpole started to play, followed shortly by the level complete jingle. But instead of walking into a castle, Mario fell to his hands and knees as text appeared over his head. The text read “I miss the silence”

By this point, we were all dumbfounded, none of this shit felt like it belonged in the game, yet it was right there. A new, practically broken level that apparently was there since day one that was only made to be accessible after three decades. After a few seconds of us sitting in silence trying to think about how this was happening, Andrew started to speak. “Kyle, did you make this?” “What, no” I responded, “yeah, like. Kyle's pretty smart, but she can't make something like this” Jennifer added. Andrew then responded by trying to ask how else could what's happening in the game be happening, but was interrupted by loud frantic music coming from the tv. My grip on the controller tightened and my head turned to face the screen to see what was going on. But it was too late, as I faced the screen, the game repeatedly flashed what looked like a face on the screen as a mix of bursts of static and bit crushed noises mimicking laughter played. This only lasted for four seconds before the nes shut down, it turned off and wouldn't turn back on for a week. So we spent the rest of the night playing monopoly and murder mystery, thinking about what had just happened.

The next day, I looked at my phone and saw three notifications on my Whatsapp, all by Mark. Very Confused, I opened up Whatsapp and read the three messages.

“Hey Kyle, remember what happened last night?”

“Well before your nes shut down, I was able to make out what was flashing on your screen. I sketched what I saw last night a few minutes ago.”

3:

As of now, that's all I feel comfortable with writing. I know it's pretty shit to just end it here, but any time I think about that, all I feel is pain and discomfort. It's Like I feel like I'm being watched whenever I think about this and what happened afterwards. just

Please, give me time. I want to get this off my chest but I can't just write all of it down, not now

[jamie4370]

All these dates

And none of them fill the void. I think I spent the better half of the last three hours looking at A’s old tumblr. I still miss her. I only have four photos saved on my phone to remind me of them. I don’t wanna forget. I wanna remember how good she made me feel and hold that forever.

I sometimes have the crazy thought of chasing after her one last time. I know she would hate me for it and probably get a restraining order at that point. Ironic. Most of the old timers that I know would say something like that. “Don’t ever let that girl go until she puts a restraining order on you”. Sounds pretty misogynistic. I never thought that that sentence would apply to me.

I go on these dates and I mostly end up ass up by the end of them. It’s pretty great. I’ve never had this much gay sex. Ever. Now look at me: longing for monogamy.

That beautiful, arrogant, fierce, strong, brilliant, stubborn, lovely girl. That girl that I missed drinking in bed with until 2 am. That girl that I loved making gas station runs for only to see her smile and the beg for my embrace.

I really don’t want anyone else ever again.

I started using a razor blade. It started as a depression tactic to deal with the pain of feeling like none of my friends trust me. Now it’s something…. More. It feels good to feel sexy with the scar lingering on my chest and thigh.

I talked to my therapist about it and we have it under control. For now. I wanna do it when it feels right and not when I’m depressed.

All of this pain though… in that moment, it felt okay. Like I had wanted a release of pain with pain. A loved metal music and its really sparked memories from high school of working out to that music… receiving pain…

Metal music and razor blades have been my only outlet for emotion as I feel I can’t trust anyone anymore.

I hope A is doing well. Having plenty of consensual sex. Sharing the love she has with her sister. Enjoying the warmer weather and vegetation that the south has to offer.

I hope she remembers me for the good things.

I hope she doesn’t think I’m a complete cunt.

[fang-wife]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

voyeur | m. izuku 

➳ tags ;; sub!izuku, dom!reader, watching hentai together?, reader is mean and nice </3, quirkless college au!izuku, corruption kink/religious guilt, unprotected sex/creampies, established relationship, afab reader

➳ wc ;; 2.1k

➳ a /n ;; @/sems-diarie made a post abt this a while ago n my brain wouldn’t let it be so. here we are </3 

➳ plot ;; izuku didn’t sneak you into your dorm to watch.. this with you. but he has a habit of letting you do what you like. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

This is embarassing. 

He knows this is embarassing - more embarassing than he really cares to admit to. He should really know better by now then to let you do as you please. You’re always stringing him along with your schemes and plans and he loses sight of his morals. His standards. 

Then again, he doesn’t have any at this point. The point of him paying for this single dorm was so that he could have space to focus. It wasn’t to sneak you in when his R.A. wasnt looking. Even more then that, it wasn’t to do.. whatever this was. 

It’d be one thing if he was having sex. That’s a normal thing to do in college, to sneak your partner in and smash. But you’re you, and all you ever seem to have planned for him are hair-brained schemes. It’s what this feels like - when you sit on his twin size bed and pat the empty space next to you. The distrust in his expression makes you laugh.. He sighs and does what you’ve asked. 

“What’re you doing?” 

He sounds exasperated. You laugh - too pleasantly for him to be comfortable. You type something into the search bar. Green eyes widen, skin warm and blushing. 

“Wh-what’re you doing?” 

You laugh as you prop the computer on the bed. You grin at him, tucking yourself under his arm. The website mocks him, all black background and animated women with huge tits covering the screen edge to edge. 

“You know something, after you’re done using incognito mode - you’re supposed to switch out to regular search, you know,” you explain. Your hand rests on his thigh. Deku freezes. 

The sound of your voice has always been something of a vice. It gets a little raspy like this - sultry in a way that has him squirming. He doesn’t know what to do. He can feel the heat of your body. 

“Would you know my surprise when I borrow your phone to look up when the convience store closes,” you inch closer, press further “only to see..” 

He knows what you saw before you announce it. His skin feels like it’s on fire, tuning out whatever description you’ve been giving of what he chose to watch. 

Maybe it was the way he was raised - but he always had such a specific sort of guilt towards pornography. Always told himself he shouldn’t watch things like that, shouldn’t touch himself. Izuku had always been a good, well-behaved boy. Done the right thing even when it was hard. 

Meeting you had changed that, changed him. He found his body craving you when he couldn’t control it and he ended up here - watching porn and jerking off with his shirt in his mouth. It’s all come back to haunt him, really. 

“I’m not mad, y’know,” ― and your tone goes soft - it’s assuring enough that Izuku can whimper out an okay, but you’re not done ― “I’m just curious. Can’t we watch it together?,” 

“That’s ― !” 

You flutter your lashes him. 

“That’s?” 

He has a million words that he can say. That he should say. Bad, wrong, immoral. Words that belong at the end of the sentence to describe what he’s doing with you and what he’s considering. 

None of that comes out. 

“That’s.. too much” 

You grin at him. 

“Do you not want too?” 

“..I didn’t say that, it’s just -” 

Your hand squeezes his thigh until your stiletto's dig into them. Your mouth trails his jaw with hot, open mouth kisses until your turning his head to face you. A hand splayed on his face, tongue deep in his mouth. French kissing makes him pant - hands twitching eagerly to touch you. He watches, dazed - the spit trail of saliva that stretches between you two. 

He’s so easy, it’s cute. You press forward with a chaste kiss. 

“Show me what you were watching, Izuku,” 

His hand trembles as he leans forward. He remembers the title - doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Within seconds, it shows up and he clicks. You lean forward too, observing the tags with a small smile on your face. 

“Milf, NTR, Gangbang,” 

“S-stop reading them!” 

You giggle. 

Without warning - you press play. Izuku finds himself frantic. Worried about the sound, the time, all of it - but you don’t seem to care. The AD comes on and you skip that too. It’s on. A familiar arousal blooms in his chest, the memory of what he’d seen appearing. You settle between his legs, your back pressed to his chest. You bring his hands around your waist.

“Let’s watch ~” 

Izuku face twists with displeasure. The plot nothing to ride home about - a lonely housewife goes out to a club and finds someone to take care of her needs. At first it’s just one stranger at the club - then two, then she’s surrounded and its too much. 

Izuku assumes you’re gonna find him disgusting, but when he looks at your face - you’re smiling, heart-beating in your chest. His eyes blow wide when you take his hand between your legs. You’re wet and you’re letting him touch you and he’s trying his hardest not to show how much he’s shaking. 

A little sigh of pleasure leaves your mouth when Izuku very carefully rubs your clit. It throbs under the pressure of big fingers - you hold his wrist and moan. He can hear the porn in the background but it doesn’t serve to distract him from you. 

“You want me to go n’ get fucked by a bunch of strangers, ‘zuku?” 

He shakes his head furiously. 

“Then you just like watching depraved shit, huh?” 

Unable to argue with you or with the the way his cock twitches and jumps in his jeans, he opts to whine. You can feel his it against your lower-back, the little wet-spot that presses to your thin tshirt. He’s too turned onto think properly - watching the way your body jerks and twitches. 

The woman on screen is stuffed to the brim with cock - it’s all over exaggerated he knows, but he thinks that’s why he likes it. Maybe he just likes the idea of fucking someone that stuffed fulled of cum, how it leaks and pours onto every surface and the way her cunt just seems to take it. And Izuku is such a good, well behaved boy - it’s never crossed his mind to think about doing it to you. 

And no, he doesn’t really want to see you get fucked by so many men but if there were more than one of him he’d be more than inclined to let you. His chest feels tight forgetting to breath. 

He thinks maybe you’re some kind of witch because you always seem to know what he wants before he does. The right way to push all of his buttons. 

“Oh, I see’ ― and he’s afraid of whatever words come out of your mouth next ― “you wanna fuck me full of your cum, Izuku? Wanna know how it feels raw?” 

He moans - loud and shameless and needy against your ear. A breathless laugh leaves your mouth because that’s exactly what he wants. He wants to fuck you full of cum, just picturing how good it might feel. 

You sit up on your knees and bend over a little - pulling short-shorts beneath the curve of your ass and thickest parts of your thigh. Your panties are drenched, clinging to your folds. He inhales sharply, frozen till as you lean forward - pulling them to one side. 

“Take your cock out ‘n fuck me then, baby” ― you challenge, dark and dangerous. Everything about you is so sinful and too tempting for him to ignore. His cock aches ― “Do your best”  

His body moves before he has a proper chance to feel shame. Whatever devils been whispering in his ear (read: you) has won whatever leftover dignity he has left. Without a proper word, his cock stands to attention. His hands are fidgety but they mange to settle on your waist. He guides you down on his dick, bottom lipped pulled between his teeth hard enough to draw blood. 

“Oh, fuck” 

He’s going to cum right away if he doesn’t take a breather. This is the first time he’s feeling you, and it feels so much better than he could understand. The lingering thoughts of the dangerous act silence by how tight and how wet and how willing your pussy is for him. The way your walls twitch - ache shamelessly around his cock. He’s fucking sliding in and out of you - it feels like a special privilege he’s done nothing to earn.

He’s shivering, over and over. When he looks down, he’s not all the way in. He’s not sure if he’s praying to god for the right reason - for forgiveness. All he can think about is how good it feels to be inside and how he absolutely doesn’t want to do anything else. 

“How’s it feel, Izuku?” 

He groans at the sound of your voice, the way you clench down on him and stretch so tightly around his shaft. He’s too wrapped up in the feeling of your cunt - like heaven and silk. 

“F-feels so, so good” 

Part of you thinks you should ride him, but another part of you is more interested in seeing how he fucks you. You snap the laptop closed and push it to the other side of the bed, before flipping around and laying on your back. His cock slips out and he snaps into reality - the way you have your legs in the air and your arms out. 

“I’ll let you fuck me as many times as you want today,” ― your legs reach and wrap around his waist, easily forcing his cock back inside ― “go on,” 

Izuku is a mess, really. His pants are only half-way pulled down and he’s wearing a nerdy graphic t-shirt. He’s borderline in hysterics over how good your pussy feels and can’t do anything other than thank you repeatedly and fuck you with an animalistic need. It’s clumsy like you’d expect, but he makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm. 

His cock is long and pretty - hits every spot you need it too. Izuku fucks you with shallow, sloppy thrusts - so needy and chasing his orgasm. Selfish and inexperienced. Every time he pushes forward, you can feel he’s throbbing. Aching to cum inside and unload. 

You reach a hand between the two of you to finish on your own time - planning on cumming before him. He doesn’t seem to care. 

“Ngh, ohh my god, feel’s’good” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum inside me, handsome? Makin’ such a pretty face for me” 

His stomach churns at the way you call him pretty. It sounds so sweet and adoring - but he knows that you’re a bully. He knows that about but fucks you with all his strength anyways - overly frustrated and fucked out of his mind by the feeling. Like a drug. He likes you so much he feels stupid over it. 

“Yeah, yeah ‘m gonna” 

Your own orgasm washes over you in a pleasant wave, squeezing his cock with force. He gasp and goes faster - all the thoughts washed away from his head. He needs to finish more than he needs anything. More than he needs to sleep for his 6am work-out and 8am class. More than he needs to be quiet because the walls of his dorm are paper thin. More than he needs to exercise self-control, he needs to cum so fuckin bad. 

“Look at me,” 

He follows your command, like always - and you look amused and fucked out just like he is. And Izuku has really never been this into anyone before so seeing you evokes feelings he can’t understand. 

“Oh, fuuck“ 

Briefly he understands that he really just came by looking at you, but nothing really makes sense to him. His eyes are heavy and he’s drooling onto your shoulder, spasming and clinging to your body with the most needy little whimpers. It’s so lewd, how he can feel his cum spurt out and coat your insides and his cock. It’s all so sinful but it feels so good, he can’t bring himself to care. 

“So,” ― you smile, full of mischief ― “if you want to be like that, we’ve got a few rounds to go” 

Izuku splutters at your comment and you laugh. He knows you’re not joking and he whines. You really are a bad influence on him. But with the way his cock is twitching to life again.. 

He might not be any better. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[bloomyagi]

bleed me dry (m)

summary: where Itadori is your bottom-loving boyfriend and Sukuna reluctantly learns this vessel is the real curse. or: where seduction is a dangerous game, and the King of Curses loses.

pairings: itadori x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader

warnings: subby itadori, sub sukuna (yeah you read that right), light bondage, blindfolds, sukuna’s havin a whole ‘reconsidering life’s meaning’ moment, lotta swear cause u know sukuna things, coming untouched, he faints (yeah you also read that right) and is actually unabashed about it, all things considered

length: 1,432

notes: what? me? obsessed with jjk? that doesn’t sound like me at all! 

.

.

.

His vessel is in love.

The word curdles in his mouth, tastes like ash. He has never known such a thing. It is part of his nature, he muses absently. Hardened from centuries of death and decay. Of destruction and war. He revels in it. Feels the most alive amongst the chaos.

But that’s the point. Curses can feel. They can have emotional attachment. Can’t you see? In so many ways, they’re not so different from us. He thinks you’re too loud. Your thoughts and beliefs are too loud. They’re also pointless and naïve, and he likes to pop by just to drive it home.

Hello, Sukuna. Where is the fear? Where is the resentment, the anger? The disgust? He enjoys it. But you—you just sit there and coax him into conversation like he’s another one of your classmates. Like he can’t crush your windpipe with a single flick of his hand. Like he isn’t the slow bleed of a death sentence for your lover. Like he isn’t anything at all. Like his titles and powers are stripped. What is he beyond it all? Who is he?

You ask about him sometimes. He rarely gives any indication he’s listening, but he does. Of course he does. There’s not much to do, bound and locked in this pink-haired boy. He lounges on this throne and watches his vessel pine and blush.

Sukuna watches his vessel fuck his fist and mewl your name every night.

It’s sad. “Brat,” he hisses. “Grow some balls. This is just pathetic.”

Itadori swallows. “Oh. Can you—?”

Sukuna shoves him off the ledge. A faint yelp travels, followed by a large splash. “Fuck her already. All this sitting and plotting is making my ass itch. If you won’t, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sukuna tilts his head to peer down. Itadori’s eyes are narrowed, uncharacteristically solemn.

His lips bare into a slow grin. “Try me.”

Itadori blinks once. And then vanishes.

.

.

.

Fuck. It’s the only coherent thought his muddled mind can pierce together. He gazes down at his palm, opening and closing languidly. His vision is blurry, spine tingling. He raises the other hand, reaching for his palm.

Mmm. He shakes his head firmly. The sharp tinge of metallic and iron coating his tongue clears the fog a little. The pain fades quickly, muted from his years of conquest and ruin.

Every nerve is on fire. His skin, this flesh cage, burns, an unfamiliar heat curling in his lower stomach. Sukuna is no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh—is well-acquainted, spent much of the centuries indulging in his vast harems. In the haze of blood and carnage, there is the memory of writhing bodies, of soft thighs and breasts, of glazed eyes and cries of his name. Of women fucked into wanton abandon, bred and lost in the worship of his cock.

But this. This heat is foreign in every sense. In its strange intensity and all-encompassing hold. All his senses are heightened but laser focused on the other pair of hands mapping his body. On the addicting sensations they’re inducing.

Can you—? Yes. Yes, he fucking can. He can feel everything and he wants to wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze.

His eyes roll back. Ngh.

“Fucking wench,” he snarls. You’re a fuckin’ tease and if you edge him again, he is going to murder—

“Ah, ah. Watch your language, Sukuna. Ask nicely.”

He jolts. Finds his eyes cloaked in darkness, arms tied to his back and legs spread. Bare, save for a pair of briefs that’s slick and restricting. Kneeling. The sheets bunch beneath him. Every muscle in his body is tensed, body coated in a thin layer of sweat.

This position—!

“That brat—mmph!” Is that a fucking—gag? Did you just gag him? He struggles harder against the binds, but he feels your lips curl into a smile where you’re suckling against the column of his neck.

“You’re powerless here. The binds will restrict you for the next twenty-four hours … unless you can be good.” You trace the thick knots, smiling only growing at the way he lets out a muffled growl.

Every fucking sense is heightened tenfold. He’s on firefirefire. The flames consuming him inside out, like he’s being exorcised from within.  

It’s humiliating. It’s exhilarating. It feels—

“King of Curses. I want you to beg.” You’re a witch. You’re enthralling. Temptation incarnate. His head falls forward, chest heaving.

“Mmmmf!”

“What a dirty mouth,” you murmur, and his struggling is renewed when he feels your fingers dig into his thighs.

Oi, brat, he growls. What the hell is this?

His vessel is silent, but the back of his mind prickles. He’s watching. That freaky little shit.

“So stubborn. Let go. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” Fuckfuckfuck, you’re palming his cock over the thin fabric. Maybe it’s been a while, maybe there’s a little more truth lurking beneath it, but he vaguely notes he’s never been so hard before.

You—! You’re fuckin’ burning his briefs off. Ash tickles his nose. A small part of him thinks it’s hot. His cock throbs, and even without visual confirmation, he knows you’ve paused at the sheer size. His mouth curls into a lopsided smirk, dark pride making his chest swell. What was he so worked up for? You’ll just end being another one of his breeding bitches, fucked stupid by his thick, long cock.

But then you pinch his left nipple, twisting harshly. Electricity courses through him and a sound he’s never heard in his absurdly long life escape his lips, muffled by the gag. His back arcs, head hitting the mattress beneath him.

His mind blanks, eyes rolling back as white noise fills his ears.

.

.

.

He rouses slowly.

He blinks lethargically at the ceiling, gaze unfocused. Everything feels muted, limbs heavy like he’s swimming in a pool of ink. But he’s not restrained anymore. There’s a blur of movement in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head to peer at you, half-lidded.

“That’s a very nice expression,” you chuckle, moving to sit by his side. The mattress dips lightly. He lifts a hand to tug at the hem of your outfit, expression twisting at the staggering movement.

“That’s a very nice look on you,” he murmurs in response. You’re wearing one of his vessel’s dress shirts, the oversized fabric falling mid-thigh. It simultaneously swallows you and presses against your curves. Something inside him stirs. His throat feels shot, even though he knows he hasn’t had much of a chance to speak.

You help him sit up, propped against the headrest, before offering him a glass of water. His lips lift into a half-smirk and you sigh, shaking your head but acquiescing. You take a mouthful before kissing him. Water dribbles down his chin.

You wipe it away with a half-fond, half-exasperated expression. His chest tightens.

“How long—?” He tries to move, but you stop him with a firm hand. He’s conflicted at the way his body responds immediately to the touch. His temperature flares despite his obvious fatigue.

“A few hours. I asked if Yuuji would keep you out until you woke.”

There’s a pause, and the knowing look in your eye tells him you know he’s mulling it over.

And then—

He reaches for you, and you set the glass aside to climb on his lap.

He bares his fangs. “Then let’s make the most of it.”

As you press him into the bed, tongue stroking his in such a manner his brain is starting to haze over again quickly, he thinks, brat, we’re going to have a long talk after this.

Sukuna doesn’t expect an answer after his vessel’s continued vigil, so he starts when Itadori replies, she’s ours.

I don’t share, he slurs. He thinks he sees a flicker of Itadori’s grin.

You’re going to have to. Because you like her, too. And she’s the one in control, not either of us.

Dimly, Sukuna acknowledges he’s right. You might be the one bouncing on his cock, but he’s not the one fucking you, you’re the one fucking him.

Fine, he gasps as you run your nails down his abdomen. Deal.

Good, his vessel says. Because I’m next, and you better not get in the way.

He growls, eyebrows knitting.

Your smile only grows.

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[lovelybarnes]

restless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and steve rogers warnings: mentions of nightmares and clingy bucky but it’s mostly fluff about: bucky can’t sleep without y/n a/n: i was going to post this yesterday but i fell asleep :| my computer was literally open and nearly dead when i woke up lmao

today marks one week that you’ve been gone, and with it, the official shortest amount of sleep that bucky has gotten in a week. he supposes it’s sightly pathetic that he can’t sleep well- or, really, at all- without you, but you continuously tell him you chase his nightmares away for him, and without you there to make them disappear, where else will they go but deep into the crevices of his mind, where they’ll hide long enough for him to let his guard down and lull himself to sleep, only to wake up with the ugly memories of things he hoped he’d forgotten. he’s constantly told that his attachment to you is overbearing- not by you, though. never by you- because it must be, with how much he clings to your side, always touching some part of you so that he’s sure that, yes, you’re there. not a dream or an illusion, although you’re good enough to be one.

he misses every part of you; your fingers and the way they run through his hair, trace his features with such tenderness he nearly believes he is what you see, your voice and its ability to transform the most mundane words into the greatest poetry, sing soft songs into his skin until he’s fallen asleep, your eyes and how they examine him in the best way possible, glowing when they meet his.

he longs for you, but he can only imagine your smile, the bitter reminder that you’re probably showing it to some psychopath for the mission you’re on. he hates steve every time the memory is evoked, the panic that comes with your being used as bait for some of the most screwed up villains in the world only returning stronger. he’s tempted to go get you himself, uncaring if he screws up the mission because at least he’ll have you.

stark will call him pathetic, then go to bed with the love of his life, so bucky prefers keeping his thoughts about you to himself, much like he’d like to keep you. you’ve told him you can handle yourself, and bucky never doubts it, having been victim to the using of your skills when he first encountered you as the winter soldier. you kicked his ass then, and you kick any and all ass now.

it doesn’t help his sleeping schedule, though your calls do. he swears you’re an angel because there’s no way a normal human could glow like that through a screen, but you always laugh off his words and simply tell him to turn his brightness down. however, you haven’t taught him that yet, so he greets you with the same sentence every time. his smile is always brighter after your calls, the dark bruises under his eyes reduced as if he got a full night’s rest. it’s your effect on him, and as much as everyone teases you both for it, they appreciate it.

you’re due to come back in a week or two, but bucky is unsure he can wait that long, and judging from your chirpier-than-usual voice in your latest interaction, you’ve finished early, like you always do. he likes to imagine it’s because of him, behind the deprecating voice that screams at him why would it be? (the answer is that you love him and hate every second you’re away from him)

sam scoffs when he overhears him telling that to steve, sitting down next to bucky, “man, there is no way you can tell that from a phone call. even if you could, i know she’s good, but to shave two weeks off mission time? natasha hasn’t even been able to do that.” a proud smile grows on bucky’s face without his permission as he shrugs, “she’s that good,” he brags, choosing to ignore the fake gag sam sends his way.

you frown when he tells you what he thinks on your call a few hours later, lips puckering into a small pout, “how did you know? i wanted it to be a surprise!” you ask through a crackled voice. so much for state of the art technology, bucky thinks, but is glad nonetheless to hear your voice. “i know you too well, doll. you’re really coming back today?”

you nod excitedly, biting your bottom lip. “mhm! i missed you and my bed too much to stay here a moment longer. villains are such pervs,” you complain, nose scrunching. bucky’s jaw sets when he hears your words, immediately thinking the worst. “but, i’m coming back today, so it’s fine. what do you want to do when i get back?”

bucky shrugs, “be with you,” he answers simply, making you laugh. “other than that, dummy. we could watch a movie, have a little date night to make up for the one i missed while i was gone.” bucky grins at this, remembering his plans for that night. “okay,” he agrees, “we’ll watch one of those movies on my list. although sam put some weird ones.”

you concur through chuckles that pass through the phone, reminding him how much you love him. he swears an oath to never let you go again and bites back a yawn that you see right through. “you’re sleeping the moment i get back,” you instruct, and bucky nods with your words, even when the sole idea of your being within arm’s reach is obviously too enticing to pass up for sleep. “whatever you want, doll. as long as you’re here.” he replies, thinking about spending the night pressing kisses to your hair and checking for any injuries you may have withheld from him.

the sentence is dishonest and you both know it, but you leave it at that, missing him too much and sure he’ll rest with how exhausted he must be. you say goodbye without the actual words, only giving a blown kiss and a “see you later.”

bucky spends the rest of the hours without you thinking of you, skimming through the words written in the little blue notebook you got him to replace his old one. that one sits on his dresser, the disuse proven by the layer of dust that covers it. the names he spent hours agonizing over, tracing his fingers over the indents made by the pen, are hidden by its cover. they never fade from his mind, though. only half of the pages of the one you gave him are blank now, and the ones that aren’t are bright and white, inviting him to drop his pen on the lines and jot whatever reference he didn’t understand but wants to. he eyes the names of the movies and shows, some accompanied by quotes that refer to them. “new girl: nick miller,” he reads, remembering how one of your friends said he was the avenger version of the character. “friends: ‘joey doesn’t share food,” sam told him that one when he didn’t let him have any of his chips. he looks at clueless, recalling the way all of his teammates stare at scott whenever the movie comes up. there are a couple pages like this, some of them recommendations and others titles he kept hearing. tonight, he decides on starting a new show, but he leaves the actual show up to you to decide.

you arrive a couple hours later, when stars have littered the darkness that bled through the sky. it’s all very rom-com-filmesque, the way you light up when you see his face- even through how tired you clearly are- and how you jump into his arms, ignoring the ache in your muscles because the way his arms wrap around you seems to make it disappear. he gathers you in his arms and kisses everywhere on your face, treasuring your laugh and the feeling of your lips pressing to his shoulder when you hug him again.

even when you pull away, he doesn’t let go of your hand, flesh fingers tracing small circles into your skin. you don’t complain, even when steve shoves papers in front of you and asks you to sign them with a sheepish look. sam comes by and teases bucky lightheartedly, hounding bucky to let you have both your hands. you chuckle at his request and squeeze bucky’s fingers, kissing the back of his hand, “oh, no, he better not,” you half-joke. he smiles, red tinting his cheeks as he gently draws you closer.

you don’t feel like driving at the moment, and you need to water your plants, completely sure that wanda forgot to do it, so you end up going to your room, even though you spend most of your time at his own room or your apartment outside the compound. you can tell how little the room has been used by the spotless counters and floors, furniture clean of any of the knickknacks you usually leave. you only sleep here when bucky leaves for long missions, his absence is overly blatant when he’s gone, and your plants keep you from feeling too alone.

you usher bucky inside, tugging open your drawers to search for something for him to wear. you grin at the soft fabric under the pads of your fingertips, recalling the memory of stealing them from bucky’s closet to soak in his scent when you couldn’t have the real thing. the considerable use has washed away all traces of him, and you decide that needs to be fixed, picking out clothing for him.

you change into one of his old shirts and make tea while he changes, smiling when you feel his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing your jaw. “what do you want to watch tonight?” he asks, and you contemplate it while you pour your drinks, shoveling spoons of sugar into each one to make it as sweet as possible- his favorite. “new girl, i think you’ll like it,” you reply after a moment.

he unravels his arms from around you, taking the mugs from the counter and following you to your room after you peck his cheek in thanks. “okay, i want to see what this nick miller is all about,” bucky says, making you laugh softly. “c’mon,” he urges, opening his arms for you after setting the cups down. you cuddle up to his side after you grab your computer, setting up netflix and choosing the show.

halfway through the first episode, bucky feels the fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks, hours of missed sleep catching up to him now that he’s finally relaxed and comfortable. keeping his eyes open is a job all on its own, and the sweet smell of your hair combined with the way your fingers move on his chest, softly writing letters and drawing shapes, is too much to resist.

you barely notice when he shuts his eyes, the evening of his breathing alerting you he’s succumbed to his tiredness. you stop the video and quietly shut your laptop, placing it on the bedside table while moving as little as possible. he feels you shift through your efforts, pulling you closer in his sleep. you chase away his nightmares like you always do, letting him sleep his first full night since you left.

he wakes up rejuvenated and embarrassed, sputtering out embarrassed apologies that you shush with kind reassurances and tender kisses. he’s reminded of how wonderful you are when you turn, arms extending to reach into your bag and carrying out a small stuffed animal that you say reminded you of him.

[yourtamaki]

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend. 

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?” 

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.” 

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens. 

“i’ll try.” 

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left. 

let them watch. 

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him. 

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it. 

your mattsun who was always just a text away. 

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes. 

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it. 

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.” 

“what if things get worse?” 

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.” 

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.” 

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth. 

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?” 

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one. 

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head. 

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside. 

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin. 

you can’t stop listening to it. 

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you. 

this isn’t part of the script. 

you don’t know your lines. 

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently. 

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear. 

“why’re you asking?” 

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?” 

“no.” 

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?” 

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind. 

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes. 

“no, issei ‘m not.” 

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.” 

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know. 

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out. 

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.” 

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence. 

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you. 

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?” 

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment. 

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world. 

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.” 

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him. 

“am i explaining it okay?” 

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?” 

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.” 

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.” 

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.” 

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours. 

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject. 

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.” 

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.” 

“i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning. 

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.” 

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you. 

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.” 

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.” it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?” 

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.” 

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes. 

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.” 

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other. 

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.” 

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years. 

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need. 

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.” 

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched. 

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?” 

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.” 

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed. 

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it” 

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake. 

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-” 

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.” 

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip. 

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.” 

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?” 

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.” 

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear. 

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.” 

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?” 

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?” 

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.” 

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were. 

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him. 

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.” 

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak. 

“what is it, baby? use your words.” 

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.” 

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible. 

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock. 

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being. 

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi