#I listened to two songs - the first part was

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty part three 

Part 1, Part 2

I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps! 

Fem! Reader

Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)

WC: ~6.3k

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PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom

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Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.

 Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.

You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life. 

So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it. 

 When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?

Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks. 

A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least. 

“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes. 

“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”

“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”

“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”

Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise. 

“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”

“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.

“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.” 

You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you. 

“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”

The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get. 

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Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.

Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue. 

“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze. 

You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.

Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.

“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone. 

You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.

“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick. 

“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”

Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.

Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.

As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes. 

The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.

“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push. 

Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style. 

“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.

Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit. 

The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off. 

“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.

“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie. 

“I-”

His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.

 You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes. 

Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.

The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs. 

“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched. 

His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend. 

Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.

Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy. 

“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly. 

“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.

Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins. 

“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe. 

You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.

 His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take. 

The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.

“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.

Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.

“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.

“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”

You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth. 

Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”

He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.

“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”

At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling.

In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips. 

“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”

It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.

It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.

“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”

“Shit, me too, angel. So close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally. 

It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort. 

“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities. 

Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath. 

“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are. 

He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground. 

“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.

“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek. 

You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts. 

“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.

“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position. 

You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.

Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so, looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver. 

“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first. 

After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world. 

—-----------------------------------------

SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee

The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”

I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually. 

This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!

Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3

[bisexualiteaa]

Feo, Fuerte Y Formal

Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)

CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)

AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰

Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!

Tag list: @expirednukacola

It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.

He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.

Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!

How lucky can one guy be?

I kissed her and she kissed me.

Like the fella once said,

“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”

You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.

The room was completely black.

I hugged her and she hugged back.

Like the sailor said, quote,

“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”

My head keeps spinning.

I go to sleep and keep grinning.

If this is just the beginning,

My life is gonna be beautiful.

You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.

I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.

It’s just like the fella said,

“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”

Like the fella once said,

“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”

Like the sailor said, quote,

“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”

My head keeps spinning.

I go to sleep and keep grinning.

If this is just the beginning,

My life is gonna be beautiful.

She’s telling me we’ll be wed.

She’s picked out a king-size bed.

I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.

Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?

Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?

He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance, you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway, I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway, I go weak

He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

When marimbas start to play

Hold me close, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance, you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.

“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.

“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.

[starry-bi-sky]

realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards

*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then

[rongzhi]

What kind of music do you listen to? And got any recommendations? Anything obscure or not talked about enough in your opinion?

I have pretty basic ass music taste, tbh!! Like don’t be mistaken lol. With Chinese music, I like folk and folk rock for the most part LOL. Songs my dad used to play on loop on long drives 😆. I guess some of those might be considered obscure to non Chinese people, assuming they probably get into contemporary Chinese music first (but I'm sure my Chinese/diaspora followers will know these... maybe?)

Basically I inherited my Dad's music taste

^ This was like the most hype song I listened to as a kid LOL

Dao Lang is also a favorite I got from my dad lol. For younger folk/rock singers, I really like 赵雷/Zhao Lei and 刘森/Liu Sen (华北浪革).

Li Ronghao is another younger favorite artist of mine.

I would also say that any longer songs that I've translated (#music tag) is one that I like also.

I don't think I listen to anything too obscure non-Chinese wise. I listen to a lot of like Motown, dad rock, 60s/70s folk rock, basically. I dont listen to the radio or streaming platforms, so there’s only so many ways I can find new music. I like 90s/early 2000s pop and R&B lol. 90s kpop also. One of the CDs my dad used to play on loop was Celine Dion's album "Let's Talk About Love", so I have every track in that album imprinted permanently in my brain. Uhh… I like Marc Anthony’s earlier stuff also, like Contra la Corriente, basically.

Anna Leone is a newer indie artist I like.

JMSN has a couple songs I like.

Vicky Tafoya is also a newer artist I found recently.

And then I guess I'll leave off with the two songs I've probably been listening to the most recently:

...and Stevie Wonder - Master Blaster (Jammin') (whoops, went past the video link limit). Charles Bradley is also a singer I discovered recently (too late, tho, RIP).

Also Yoon Jongshin, Wheesung, and Lim Chungjang are the kind of Korean singers I listen to (off the top of my head). Tears at the End of the Sky by Junyfore is one of my favorite songs. I like Korean rock as well (blanking on a bunch of songs names right now, though—I'd have to check my phone because it's not in my current library, and that's basically what I listened to for a while after I stopped listening to kpop so much.

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 10

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: sorry for the hiatus. here’s this. it’s not proofed. yay!

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.

—

Bucky comes to with a groan, sitting up from his position on the floor, a hand holding his head. He blinks a couple of times, scanning the room for any sign of you. You’re nowhere to be found. Shaking his head, he pulls himself off the ground, and starts heading to the meetup spot he and Steve had agreed on months ago in case Becca had to be taken somewhere safe.

As Bucky travels, he replays the conversation he’d had with you. Why the hell would you bring up a Greek myth? He struggles to make any sense of it, but then his brain picks out a particular part of your story:

“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Don’t turn around, James.”

Your warning—“Don’t turn around, James”— was certainly a code. After all, if you had struck a deal with Frost, and if you were working with HYDRA, then you were probably being watched, listened to. You couldn’t speak freely. But why Orpheus and Eurydice? Why that story?

“Don’t turn around, James.”

Orpheus turned around… Why is that important?

“Don’t turn around, James.”

“This has to be a metaphor for us,” Bucky thinks. “Does she mean I’m Orpheus, then? Eurydice was trapped in the Underworld… Y/N is trapped by HYDRA… Does she mean to stop looking for her? Or does she mean to trust she has a plan? That she knows what she’s doing?”

Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid he would tell all the secrets of the Underworld.

Then, it clicked. Bucky isn’t sure exactly what it is that changed how he interpreted your story, but, suddenly, everything made sense:

1. Chance one to save Y/N: Russia. I didn’t save her. I only saved Becca. She is saying I don’t get another chance to try for her.

2. Y/N is picking off people Frost is afraid will come between him and HYDRA. Right now, I’m not apart of that list. Proof: She let me go. If I attempt a second rescue, she will have no choice; they will tell her to take me out. Besides that, they will certainly threaten Becca, and we agreed when she was born that Becca always comes first.

3. The muses kept his head? They won’t kill me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they will just capture me. She won’t give me up, but she’s more likely to slip up if it comes to me. A slip up is more likely to lead to… They’ll wipe me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they’ll wipe me if they capture me.

Bucky sighs as he arrives at the rendezvous he and Steve had agreed on. He feels a little better now that he understands more of what you were saying, but he still feels like there is a piece of the puzzle missing.

—

The team goes into hiding. You had revealed a lot about the dangers of HYRDA’s plans, but they still know so little. The team knew you had targets—important targets—that you were being forced to eliminate. They discerned the targets were people HYDRA feel are threats against their mission, but they still don’t have a definite list.

“We’re sitting ducks!” Tony shouts angrily into the room.

“Stark,” Fury says gravely, “watch it.”

“I’m sorry, but we are. We have no new intel. HYDRA is AWOL. The world is looking at us to do something, and we’ve got nothing.”

“Buck,” Steve says, “did Y/N say anything else that might give us a clue as to who she’s after?”

Bucky sighs, thinking back over the whole interaction from the moment you got there to the moment you knocked him out. It was as he replayed your conversation on the roof that it clicked: the missing puzzle piece. Bucky meets Steve’s eyes.

“She told me who she’s after.”

“Well?” Tony questions impatiently. “Who?”

“When I met her on the roof,” Bucky says, “Y/N told me she was marking 3 names off her list. That means her next three targets were in the Compound.”

“FRIDAY,” Tony says, “get me a list of every person who was in the Compound at the time of the break in.” FRIDAY responds in the affirmative.

“Then,” Bucky continues, “she asked me…” Bucky trails off as he tries to remember how exactly you worded the question. “She asked me: ‘You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?’

“I thought it was weird how she worded that. I’ve known Steve longer than anyone, and it was weird she called him ‘Captain America.’ But that was her clue. HYDRA has no problem with Steve Rogers—”

“But Captain America has been ruining their plans since the ‘40s,” Steve says, arms crossed as he puts together what Bucky is saying. Bucky nods.

“So the other two targets have to have been in the Compound at the time of the attack, and they have to be people that have significantly messed with HYDRA somehow,” Sam thinks aloud.

Bucky thought. Who else could HYDRA consider a threat to their cause? Who else has been foiling HYDRA’s plans time after time? Bucky scanned the room, eyes carefully considering each person. It could be any of the Avengers, he thought, but then you would likely have more than 3 targets. His eyes settle on Fury. Bingo.

“Fury’s a target.”

All eyes are on Bucky.

“How you figure?” Someone asks. Bucky doesn’t clock who, his mind still attempting to fit puzzle pieces together.

“Captain America is an obvious choice. It can’t be another Avenger because you’ve done equal damage to their cause. It’s not me because they don’t want me dead—I’m valuable to them. But Fury? Fury created the Avengers. Fury is the leader. He’s also the director of SHIELD: HYDRA’s number 1 obstacle. It makes sense.”

Fury hums in agreement. “Rogers and I make the most sense. We still have a third target to identify, though.”

Bucky nods in acknowledgment, but his eyes settle on Coulson beside Fury.

“Coulson.”

Coulson’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he never would have expected he could be so important to Bucky. He swallows and composes himself, and when he speaks, he is calm, confident.

“I do make sense. My team and I have given HYDRA a real headache, and, like Fury, I’m the leader.”

—

With a list of targets that the team was agreed upon and confident in, it was time for a plan. They’d been idle too long. The plan is simply to get you back first, stop HYDRA second, but the way Bucky see is it, you are crucial to Frost’s plan. If they get you, Frost will be scrambling.

“Okay, team,” Steve says into a huddle. “Stick to the plan. The tip we sent out says I’ll be on a solo recon mission, so they’ll be waiting. Y/N will be waiting.

The goal is to get Y/N and bring her home.”

“And we’re sure she’s not just going to kill you?” Sam asks, facetiously. Bucky scowls.

“We have to hope that she really is just playing HYDRA’s game to stay alive,” Steve says solemnly.

—

“Any sign of her?” Natasha asks into the coms.

“No,” Clint says.

“Redwing and I got nothing,” Sam says.

The coms go silent as the team waits. Steve carefully walks through the hallways of the abandoned HYDRA facility. He’s careful—he half expects you to step out of nowhere and shoot at him.

He turns the corner into what appears to be the facility’s security room. Computer monitors line the walls, each showing different hallways or facility entrances. The room is bland and dark except for the monitors and the light emitting from them.

Steve’s eyes take in the security footage, the room, and the woman sitting in a large desk chair in front of the monitors, legs propped up on the desk the security equipment rests on.

“Y/N?” Steve asks.

“You found her?” Bucky asks quickly, heartbeat picking up. He had been ordered to stay behind in the quinnjet, but if Steve found you, he’s leaving.

“Hi, Cap,” you say pleasantly. “Been a while.”

“You tried to kill me a week ago.”

You frown. “You still mad about that?”

Steve scoffs. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on, Captain America,” a third voice chimes in, “is the fall of the Avengers, of SHIELD, and the rise of HYDRA.”

“Frost,” Steve says, presuming he’s meeting the “mastermind” behind the whole endeavor.

“Captain Rogers,” Frost says with an over animated grin. “A pleasure!”

Steve turns back to you, ignoring Frost’s greeting. “You missed.”

“I won’t miss this time,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching.

“I don’t doubt it,” Steve replies. “I’ve never known you to miss. Best sniper on the team.”

“Steven,” you say, an edge to your voice that confuses Steve. He opens his mouth to answer, but the sound of a gun cocking beats him to it.

Behind Steve, and then behind Frost, stands Bucky; he has a gun to Frost’s head. It’s clear that Bucky had snuck up on him.

“Well! Isn’t it nice of you to join us, Sergeant Barnes,” Frost says. “I just love a little family reunion. Tell me, how is the Mini Asset? Hmm?”

Still holding the gun to Frost’s head with his right hand, Bucky’s left hand goes around Frost’s throat.

“Watch it.”

“Buck, we need him alive,” Steve warns. Bucky releases Frost’s neck. However, in the small amount of time that this interaction took place, Frost had, unbeknownst to the three of you, snuck something out of his pocket.

“Well, this has been fun. I’m sure we will meet again soon,” Frost’s tone is sardonic. “Just know, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, that you may have gotten your little bitch back today, but this is far from over. HYDRA will rise again. SHIELD will fall.”

Then, Frost throws what he had pulled from his pocket to the ground and smoke quickly billows up into the room, filling your lungs and making you cough. You hear footsteps—Frost running. He must have taken Bucky by surprise, too.

When the smoke clears, you face your husband and run into his arms for the first time since being kidnapped.

—

After being rescued from Frost, Bucky and the team take you back to the Avengers’ makeshift headquarters. They (with profuse apologies) blindfold you on the way so that you’re not able to leak any information if you have actually turned against them, or accidentally give something away if HYDRA is watching somehow.

“I’m sorry, Doll. Y’know I trust you with my life, but we gotta be sure,” Bucky says. You rest your hand on his and squeeze.

“It’s fine. I understand.”

Upon your arrival to the HQ, you’re taken to an interrogation room where Fury and Coulson ask you about the kidnap, the torture, the deal you struck, HYDRA’s plans, and everything else up to your rescue. They hook you up to a lie detector machine, even, and ask you if you are working with HYDRA, if you had gone dirty.

“I promise I only did what I had to survive and to keep my daughter alive. I had to do what HYDRA asked. They’re everywhere. They’re within SHIELD, even. I didn’t know who could hurt her,” you swore.

When Fury and Coulson are finally finished interrogating you, they tell you they think you have a chance of being acquitted. You were a prisoner of war, and, surely, the U.S. government would see that. However, until then, you were in SHIELD’s custody and to be locked up. You agree without protest.

As you’re walking out of the interrogation room, hands cuffed in front of you, you see Bucky holding a sleeping Becca in his arms waiting for you. Your eyes widen.

“What is she doing here?” You panic.

Bucky frowns. “I thought you might want to see her. She misses you.”

“Bucky, if she sees me right now, what will she think? I’m handcuffed. The last time she…” You trail off. “I don’t want to see her. Just… put her to bed. Give her a kiss for me. Tell her I love her. Don’t bring her by my cell.”

Bucky says nothing as a couple SHIELD agents lead you away.

—

It takes 2 months for you to be acquitted. You stay locked up in a SHIELD cell, refusing to see your daughter, barely speaking to anyone for 2 months. When you are finally acquitted, it is because a private grand jury hears your testimony, Becca’s testimony, the Avengers’, security and personnel from the White House there the night you assassinated the president, and the families of the deceased. The ordeal is heart wrenching. You are sentenced to a year of probation (including not going on missions as an Avenger) and weekly court mandates therapy, but you are free.

When the judge tells you, “Mrs. Y/N L/N-Barnes, you’re a free woman,” you let out a sob and feel yourself yanked into a firm chest that you’d recognize anywhere: Bucky.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re coming home.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansource @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom

[silverflqmes]

I was curious about a HC for Sephiroth with a quiet S/O that loves to sing when they’re alone?

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐔𝐒.

notes. hello anon! i’m not sure if you just wanted one hc so i added a good amount to suffice enough for a post, hope you enjoy and that they are to your likings<3

genre. fluff + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ sephiroth has known you to be a rather soft spoken individually, often reserved amongst others — though he didn’t particularly mind it. he had similar habits, anyway — if anything it made him feel less alone..

⌗ with him, however, you were thankfully a bit more talkative — as was he, with you. it just felt more comfortable for you both to fully express yourselves, especially your lover.

⌗ but something told your beloved that you were keeping some quirks secret.. certain little things — habits of yours.

⌗ particularly the melodic voice that greeted his ears one chilly evening when he’d arrived home from a dragged out meeting.

⌗ you had been so engrossed in whatever you were busy with, that you hadn’t even heard your boyfriend come in. normally you greeted him at the door if you were home- a cute little routine of yours and sephiroth’s — which made it all the more strange that you hadn’t done so.

⌗ given the late hours, part of him would have assumed you to have fallen asleep as a reason for not expressing your usual ‘welcome home, sephiroth!’ but would you have left the record player on..?

⌗ sephiroth tried not to question it and just assumed you wanted noise with whatever you had been occupying yourself.

⌗ only.. the record player was not in use. interesting.

⌗ with his enhanced hearing, the silver haired first decided to give into his curiosity, leaning against the cool wall as he listened in on that mellifluous tune.. and that was where he reached his conclusion.

⌗ the person singing was you!

⌗ for a moment sephiroth flushed and recoiled, thinking that perhaps he had intruded on your privacy somehow — which brought a slight feeling of guilt.

⌗ he hadn’t heard you sing before. maybe a soft humming while you were busy with your paperwork.. but not full on singing. were you not comfortable doing so in front of him? a mild case of stage fright, perhaps..

⌗ even still, he couldn’t help but feel lulled by your voice — at ease.

⌗ so much, that shinra’s famed hero hadn’t even noticed his body sliding down the solid surface, feline-like eyes fluttering shut.. until his rear made contact with the hardwood floor.

⌗ naturally, sephiroth.. given his height and muscle mass — would make a bit of a thud. guys look at that cushy tushy, come on which might have been ignored by him, since his focus was on your voice, but the sound had very much found your ears.

⌗ the song you’d chosen to sing came to an abrupt pause, concern overcoming you as you beelined out of your shared bedroom with a loud gasp.

⌗ “s-sephiroth..?!”

⌗ but your beloved was.. pretty much fast asleep, a serene smile on his lips with strands of silver framing his relaxed countenance.

⌗ now how could you possibly wake him up? he was likely exhausted from his work, the war in wutai — everything that came to mind regarding shinra.

⌗ a sigh left your lips as you tucked a lock of hair behind his ear before crouching to wrap his arm around your neck. no way would you allow him to sleep through the night like that. especially with his restless sleep schedule.

⌗ and so, you poured every ounce of your strength into your legs, lifting the two of you up with a slight wheeze. sephiroth wasn’t light by any means, but you wanted him to sleep comfortably — which in turn, kept you going with your ambitious, and quite possibly foolish, endeavors..

⌗ a few steps was all it took before you were easing him onto his side of the bed, prying off his boots and pauldrons so that he could relax better. there wasn’t any danger in your shared flat, so he could do without them for the rest of the evening. you’d protect him, anyway.

⌗ crawling into the space beside him, you then curled into his side, fluttering your eyes shut as you allowed sleep to envelope you, just as it had your lover.

⌗ when dawn broke and bled through the curtains, sephiroth stirred a little before opening his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to his surroundings — specifically you, cuddling into his chest.

⌗ had he fallen asleep so suddenly that you had to carry him into bed all on your own?

⌗ you murmured something incoherent, likely from a dream, as he smiled tenderly, pushing aside the thought to slide a gloved hand into your hair, petting you gently.

⌗ perhaps he wouldn’t move just yet to prepare breakfast.. and instead, enjoy your warmth for a little while longer.

⌗ however, he would have comments upon your wake, wanting to know why you’d hidden such a lovely voice from him all this time.

⌗ but, for now, it would just be him, his fluffy bedding, the morning rays, and yourself.

⌗ gingerly, the first class SOLDIER leaned in to press a tiny kiss to your temple, whispering a soft, “sleep well, my love.”

notes. i may have indulged a little here, but it’s sephiroth aiakwhdjsjs sleeping with him sounds so nice rn😵‍💫 ahem- hope it was good tho, anon!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[irkimatsu]

why can't I stop writing, I'm in love, I'm sorry

Husk/Reader, Husk brings Reader on a date, confessions are made, sappy sappy sappy

---

Husk is planning a very special date with you tonight. You've been on plenty of dates together, but that's all been things like drinks at dive bars and simple walks through the park. Tonight, he wants to go all out for you. You deserve it. He tells you to wear your nicest outfit, "though you'll look great no matter what you wear, doll", and to leave all planning and financial concerns to him. Just let him spoil you for a night.

He hasn't told you yet, but there's something he wants to talk to you about, and he can't say it unless he can get the mood perfect.

He shows up at your hotel room door in his nicest suit, and is immediately stunned by your own choice of outfit. "...you look great." Despite his earlier assurance that you always look great, he seems genuinely taken aback. The evening starts at a high-end steakhouse, where Husk tells you to order whatever you want with no concern for the price. You can have drinks or dessert if you want; it's all on him! You appreciate his generosity, although of course you don't want to take advantage of him. (Perhaps part of him still believes that careless spending is the best way he has of impressing anyone...) He then takes you to a live jazz show, where the two of you dance into the late hours of the night. You have a great time together, but soon the crowd becomes a bit much, and you both need fresh air. So, you decide to step outside to an outside eating area. There are plenty of tables, but none of them are taken, giving you some level of privacy here. You can still faintly hear the music from the club, and as a slow song begins, he wraps his arm around your waist and takes your hand.

"I wish the sky here wasn't so awful, and that it wasn't so damn humid," he says. "I wanna dance with you under the moon, in a cool breeze."

That romantic side of him never truly died. Maybe you realized that about him before he did.

"I'm still enjoying it," you assure him as you let him lead you in a slow dance. His eyes are transfixed on you the whole time, enraptured... and maybe a little nervous?

A love song that Husk knows well begins to play. You can barely hear the singer in the club, but you don't need to; Husk is happy to sing it for you, his smooth voice singing every word and note effortlessly, as if it's a song he's sung so many times before. He used to be a performer, so maybe he has. You lean your head against his chest as he serenades you, decades of practice bringing him to one of the most important songs he'll ever sing in his life.

The song ends, but Husk doesn't start singing the next one, even though you're sure he knows this one as well. He's content to keep swaying with you, and you're content to keep listening to his heart.

"Hey... doll?" he says. "I gotta... I gotta tell you something."

You look up at him again, and see that his eyes are completely dilated; in wonder, or in fear?

"I... I like..." He swallows. "I want... fuck. It's... been a long time since I've had to do this. I... can I kiss you?"

Does he even need to ask? He's kissed you so many times before, and you've always welcomed it. Well, at least he's a gentleman who respects your boundaries whether it's the first or hundredth time; it's one of the many things you've come to adore about him. You nod, and he kisses you. It's not a particularly deep kiss, with no use of tongue, but it lingers, as if he can't bear to pull away. He cradles your face in his paws and gently brushes his claws over your cheeks.

He murmurs something during a brief break in the kiss, and before you can comprehend it, his mouth is on yours again. As he keeps kissing you, your brain finally catches up to your ears.

"...I love you."

You'd say it back, but that would mean pulling away from the kiss. Instead, you respond by combing your fingers through the fur on the back of his head and pulling his mouth closer to you.

How long have you been standing there kissing him? Is the music still playing? Can anyone see you? None of that seems to matter. What matters is that you're here with him. You're kissing him.

"...I love you, too." You think you manage to say that at some point in the evening, but everything is such a blur...

"We should... get back to the hotel," Husk says, breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. "Unless there's something else you want to do?"

"I'm fine with going back." A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you consider your next statement. "But I don't think I'm ready for our date to end yet. Maybe we could... spend the night together? In your room?"

Husk's eyes blow wide, and his tail stands up in curiosity. "I'd... I'd like that."

You don't know yet exactly what you want to do when you get back there, but you know Husk will respect whatever choice you make in the end. That respect for you, always framed as common human decency, is one of the many reasons you're so willing to return his feelings.

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

As i approach the end of finals week, I’m taking a moment to reflect on all of the absolutely CRAZY things that have happened during my roller coaster of a sophomore year of college!

This is of course, going to go down in the history books as The David Tennant year. What started as a silly little reawakened special interest in my favorite actor has somehow opened doors for me that I never could have imagined. Writing a two hour video essay about this man is NOT how I thought I’d be spending last semester, but not only did it become one of the proudest creative projects of my entire life and connected me with so many amazing internet buddies, but it was also invaluable in helping me come to terms with my queerness and come out to my friends and family. Thanks to a silly little short about David’s BAFTA outfit, he KNOWS I EXIST NOW, which is still so wild. And finally, he inspired me to write my most ambitious piece of music to date, my 8 month labor of love Crowley’s Lament, which put to the test basically everything I’ve learned about music and performing and has been received so beautifully by you guys.

This year wasn’t all about him, though! I finally got to make my collegiate stage debut in my first opera, and Iolanthe ended up being the dream role I never knew I needed- an endearing and inspiring character that was such a fulfilling challenge for an actor and singer to play. I learned loads of challenging classical, musical theatre, and pop rock music this year, listened to a ton of new albums (Will Wood might be one of the most incredible musical discoveries of my life?), and learned a ton about music theory and history. One of my favorite classes this year was Film and TV music analysis, and I got to apply my knowledge by composing the score for one of my Discord mutuals’ short films! I turned 20 and on the same day got to perform in an original musical for my friend’s composition recital. I took part in my first ever crew assignment, had two of my pieces performed at Project 21 concerts (one with a full band!), and my original Fullmetal Alchemist song Even Into Hell was choreographed for a collaboration with the school of dance, which brought my piece to such gorgeous emotional life.

I’ve gotten closer to friends old and new, and just when I’d accepted that romance probably wasn’t in the cards for me any time soon, I met (well, started DM-ing), the most amazing person through the most unexpected set of circumstances (that honestly deserves its own video sometime in the future). My brilliant internet friend-turned-parter Merlin @elsinore-and-inverness has brought so much light and joy into my life, and I can honestly say I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.

Next stop, THE UK!!! I’m not only studying abroad on a once in a lifetime Shakespeare trip, seeing loads of West End shows AND performing at the Edinburgh Fringe, but I also get to meet my favorite London boy in person :)))) could NOT be more excited

[atragicallycrispydude]

I haven't listened to anything but Guilty Gear soundtracks for like a month (since Symphony released) and for a while I didn't really appreciate how fucking good the songs were but they're SO GOOD

A super underrated part of their composition that I don't really see people talk about is the level of complexity that the instrumentals get into without being overwhelmingly loud. It adds such beautiful relistenability, because you can seemingly always hear something new in a lot of the songs. ON TOP OF THAT, they help to capture the vibes of a character supremely well

For example, Sol's Xrd theme, Give Me a Break, starts with a thick, grindy, intense guitar riff. Then slow, crashing drums and cymbals come in, adding to the sense of weight the song already has, along with subtle clacking (i don't know what the instrument is but clacking is the best descriptor, it might be a cowbell?) to help keep the pace and fill out the song. A bass is there too, adding a nice smooth underlying layer of deep notes to the song. Finally, a lead guitar comes in and the grindy rhythm guitar moves to the background of the song, exchanged for a more melodic guitar in a higher pitch, but still with the longer, more intense notes. This is in the first 10 seconds.

It all blends into a rich and dense layered cake of a song, allowing for freedom of expression from the lead guitar, while not relying on it too heavily to carry the song. (It absolutely is the best part of the song, but the background instrumentals are just as important)

Drift (Happy Chaos' theme) does this so fucking well, so fucking fucking beautifully well. When the outro starts, you hear Naoki's vocals, over a piano and some sparse strings, before cymbals crash in with trumpets and a choir and booming drums to accentuate the climax of the song, cutting out as Naoki says "Please don't stop the flow!" It then goes back to the very fast heavy-metal-esque drums and guitar and bass, but WITH the strings and choir backing up Naoki's singing and holy fucking shit it's amazing amazing oh my goooood

Symphony (A.B.A.'s Strive theme) was what really got me hooked onto it, though. The last two minutes of that song are fucking PEAK music. It starts with light drums, an organ, and a bass backing up a piano, cutting the formerly intense tone of the song for a nice break from the intensity. Naoki comes in, shortly followed by that classic grindy Guilty Gear guitar, as the piano and drums speed up to match a slowly rising intensity, before breaking into the final verse and chorus, with Naoki vocalizing over intense drums and guitar (as well as a bass but i do struggle to pick it out,) with the piano providing the main melody. Choral "la la la la" chants accompany the cries of "Break out, break out," filling it out perfectly for the tone of the song

It's honestly extremely difficult to properly articulate how it all comes together in the end for the songs. It ends up being a complex, emotional, BANGER. Go listen to the music from these soundtracks and when you do, pay attention to the main melody, then listen to them again and again and again and again and pick out the little extras in the background to truly understand WHY Guilty Gear music is so good.

[autumnmobile12]

The Epic Saga: Just A Man

Trigger warning for infanticide.

I want to talk about what an interesting choice it was in Epic's first installment for Odysseus to be the one to kill the infant.

In all versions of the story, the fate of Astyanax, son of Prince Hector, is always the same. He is thrown from the walls of Troy while the city is sacked. What varies from telling to telling is who does the deed, and it's usually between two people: Odysseus and Neoptolemus.

Most modern retellings make Neoptolemus the villain in this story, or they'll leave out this part entirely, because in the eyes of today's society, the senseless murder of a helpless infant is something only a villain would do.

Who's Odysseus? He's the man who won the Trojan War by engineering the idea behind the Trojan Horse, he's the guy who took ten years to sail home, he's the main character of The Odyssey. Odysseus is a hero. And heroes don't kill infants.

Who's Neoptolemus? He's forgettable. He didn't go on any heroic quests like Herakles or Perseus. He didn't slay any noteworthy monsters. Neoptolemus' biggest claim to fame are three things: He's the son of Achilles, he clubs King Priam to death in the sacking of Troy, and in some versions, he kills Astyanax. (He also enslaved Astyanax's mother.)

From the lens of the Ancient Greeks, a hero wasn't an upstanding guy who did the right thing. A hero was the guy who fought for what he wanted and did horrible things to his enemy in the process.

In the context of modern society, it's no wonder why the dubious credit of Astyanax's death goes to Neoptolemus. When that's the only real claim to fame he has, of course he's going to be a villain. We can't be having heroes killing babies because that's insane.

So let me tell you that when I first listened to The Horse and The Infant and I realized it was Odysseus who was committing the deed, that took me so off guard and I had to pause the song just to tell my poor sister how fucking crazy that is. I rarely saw this version. I mean, I understand the reasoning; it's setting up Odysseus' guilty conscious that'll plague him for the remainder of the musical. It's the flawed hero trope, which is a far cry from the brutality of the original myths.

And that in itself is testament of how mythologies have evolved over the centuries. It's why we have different variations of the myth in the first place. Societal views and values change and the stories told adapt accordingly.

Did Hades kidnap Persephone or did she go willingly to escape Demeter, her overbearing mother? Both versions are correct. All versions are correct. We cannot look for something as narrow-minded as a 'canon' version of mythology because mythology is a jumble of headcanons about the same basic concept thrown together by countless storytellers over literal centuries of storytelling.

In The Horse and The Infant, Zeus directly warns Odysseus that if Astyanax lives, he will take vengeance on him and his homeland. And after what the Greeks did to Troy, slaying the men, enslaving the women, and leaving the city in ruins, Odysseus is one of many Greek kings who have a lot to answer for.

Is Odysseus heroic for protecting his family by killing Astyanax because now the infant prince won't grow up to take vengeance?

Is Odysseus a flawed hero who carries the shame of his sins with him?

Is the deed committed by Neoptolemus and Odysseus goes home with his honor unsullied?

It all depends on interpretation. You can choose one that reflects a harsh history or you can pick the one that's been adapted to suit modern values. You don't even have to pick. You can appreciate them all for what they are.

And Epic: The Musical came out swinging.

[katerina-marie]

I Know Everything You Don’t Want Me To (Meddle About)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 4 to this but falls chronologically between part 1 and part 2.

Two months ago, on a beach under golden sun, Ryomen Sukuna vehemently denied ever writing lyrics that could be misconstrued as anything close to romantic. At an awards show, when his band debuts a brand new song that seems to hint at the beginning of everything, you begin to wonder which one of you is the bigger liar.

Word Count: 8.7k

Notes: Last ~major~ part of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Meddle About by Chase Atlantic is the song that brought the idea of band member Sukuna into my head and it’s directly referenced in the fic below, so I recommend listening to it if you haven’t already heard it.

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), lightly explicit content (vaguely described sex), so please avoid accordingly. All characters are 18+ but only reader and Sukuna are involved in explicit content.

—————————————————————————————

“A friend of a friend,” is how Nobara had described them, prattling on excitedly as you joined her in the car to venture off to god knows who’s house to listen to “some album” that the ‘friend of a friend’ was releasing with his band in a mere few days. You couldn’t quite discern if she was being intentionally secretive or was just as oblivious of the situation as you. The only reason you were talked into going was the fact that the ‘friend’ Nobara was speaking of was Toji’s son Megumi, and it was one of his friends that just happened to be a musician.

“They’re letting us get a sneak peak of the album before it comes out!” Nobara squealed, drumming her hands rapidly against her leather-wrapped steering wheel. “Isn’t it exciting?”

You weren’t sure if you would call having to sit and listen through what was probably some b-list band’s basement album exciting, but you didn’t want to spoil your friend’s fun, and you hummed in reluctant agreement.

So imagine your surprise when, upon first stepping into an elegant foyer of a meticulously decorated mansion, you recognized the shock of blossom-pink hair associated with the world’s most popular band of the last couple years. Yuji was all jubilant smiles and boundless energy, jogging towards you and Nobara with arms wide open. You hadn’t quite recovered as he wrapped the two of you in a hug, and you could only gape stupidly over his shoulder as you watched his brother Choso, and Megumi, trail in behind him. You were overly cognizant of the fact that there was a third brother missing, as if anyone could be ignorant of the so-called ‘King of Curses’, and you swept your eyes across the rest of the house that you could see, just to possibly catch a glimpse of him. You were a fan, you supposed, not overly invested but you enjoyed their music nonetheless. If that enjoyment had anything to do with the sharp eyes and handsome grin of a tattooed rock star, you would never admit it.

In an effort to calm the jitters coursing under your skin, you excused yourself in pursuit of finding a bathroom, vaguely hearing the directions thrown over Choso’s shoulder. You meandered down a hallway, took a detour through an expansive kitchen, and tucked yourself through the door to a polished half-bath. Once finished, you took a second to peer into the mirror, smoothing down any flyaways on your head and making sure your outfit sat neatly. If you pinched at your cheeks lightly to bring some color to them…no you didn’t.

You had gone no further than a couple steps after leaving the bathroom when you heard a voice sound out from a small breakfast nook across the kitchen.

“I know you,” it crooned, and with barely there restraint, you turned slowly to face the one who’d spoken, locking eyes with Sukuna.

“And I know you,” you replied back calmly, praying you didn’t look as nervous as you felt. He was leaning forwards on the table, elbows propped up so he could cradle his chin in his hands. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were observant, not missing how you cocked your hip slightly and shoved your hand into your pockets.

Sukuna and Yuji, despite having a couple years and another brother between them, looked eerily similar. Though, where Yuji’s hair usually flopped over his forehead and into his eyes, Sukuna kept his swept back. The planes of Yuji’s face were soft and round, some remnants of youthful exuberance still clinging to his cheeks, and it made you wonder, however many years ago, if Sukuna’s face looked the same before time, age, and responsibility angled his jaw and narrowed his eyes. You made a note—that you also tried to pointedly forget—to search the internet for any evidence of such that might exist. You doubted you would find any though. For as famous as he and his brothers were, there was never much to be said about him. He kept to himself, seldom giving interviews or granting more than a scant few pictures with fans here or there. Sukuna’s romantic involvements were treated the same way. He wasn’t so much a womanizer as he was simply detached, you suspected for some reason unknown to you, and only on occasion would a photo get circulated of him with a woman caught in the mundane, never anything sensual or scandalous. They wouldn’t ever be seen together again, but never did any one of them ever say or do anything to indicate that something regretful befell their relationship—if that’s what one could call it.

“So, you’re one of Yuji’s friends that came to listen to the album?” Sukuna asked, drawing your attention back to him. You nearly died inside when you realized you had zoned out with your eyes on him, and the bemused look on his face told you he noticed.

“A friend of a friend,” you muttered, “but yes.” He didn’t say anything back and took the opportunity of silence to drag his eyes up and down your body once or twice. You were about to start squirming when he stood up from the table and made his way over to come to a stop a half step in front of you. He bit down on the corner of his lip, looking an awful lot like he was considering something, and as you went to open your mouth and ask, he lifted his hand and used it to gesture towards the kitchen exit.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he said, taking the lead and leaving the same way you came in. You followed after him, not quite walking next to him, but just a bit behind his shoulder.

The evening hours passed by you in something close to a fog. The group of you lounged in a great room overlooking a beautifully manicured backyard and a pool through glass french doors. Music was coming out of speakers you couldn’t discern the location of, and you spent the passing time furtively watching as Sukuna would come and go from the room, bringing a round of snacks or drinks and mingling for a few minutes before disappearing again. In between his comings and goings, the two of you would meet each other’s eyes for a fleeting second before returning to whatever conversation you each were having. At one point, Sukuna had leaned down over your chair to place down a platter of glasses, and it took all your self control to sit still as his torso passed over your shoulder and filled the space around your head with the smell of his cologne. The whole time you tried to focus on the music, as it was truly incredible—as expected for the three brothers—but a buzz of anticipation was building in your chest, and didn’t seem keen on tempering down. When nearly an hour passed since the last time Sukuna left the room and hadn’t returned, you resigned yourself to leaving without seeing him again that evening, especially now that Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, and Choso were chatting about some restaurant with a late-night menu and a hidden back room.

“Are you coming?” Nobara asked you. You considered it for a moment before responding.

“Well, I am hungry–,”

Movement from behind the group caught your attention and your breath stuttered in your chest when you caught sight of Sukuna leaning against the doorway, shaking his head slowly.

“–But I’m also pretty tired, so I think I’ll take a raincheck. I’ll have Toji come pick me up so I don’t keep you guys. I’ll just wait here if that’s okay?” Choso gave you a small nod while Yuji shot you a joyful grin, and then you were waving them off as they filtered out of the house, the front door closing with an audible click that echoed through the suddenly quiet house. Sukuna padded through the open lounge until he reached where you sat on one of the couches. The two of you observed each other briefly before he held out a hand in front of you and motioned with his head towards the french doors leading to the backyard and beyond.

“Follow me?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you following me?”

Toji’s voice jerked you from whatever daydream you had been caught in, and you stared at him wide-eyed as he looked at you expectedly.

“I…I’m sorry, I was off in my own head,” you told him, shaking away the memories as you forced yourself to focus on what your bodyguard had been saying. “Can you repeat that?”

Toji looked at you strangely for another moment before cutting his eyes towards Nanami who sat across from you and next to your bodyguard in the back of a modified SUV. No one spoke for a minute, Nanami watching you with a knowing eye until Toji finally resumed conversation.

“In the hopes of keeping the evening incident free and mine and Nanami’s blood pressures low, let’s go over a list of things we aren’t going to do tonight, yeah?”

You had hoped the displeased look on your face would have kept Toji from continuing on with whatever was rolling around inside his head, but he didn’t seem any more likely to stop himself than you were likely to get your wish to go home.

“Can I opt out?”

“No,” he said firmly.

With a resigned sigh, you motioned Toji on with a wave of your hand.

“Number one, we will not insult Gojo Satoru to his face on camera, no matter how strong the temptation.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your seat to cross your arms and level Toji with a haughty stare. “I do have self control, thank you very much.”

He cocked a brow and returned your retort with a look of such blatant disbelief that you couldn’t help being offended.

“Number two,” he began pointedly, “we will not sneak off to inappropriate places with certain pink-haired rock stars to do very inappropriate things.”

The feeling of confident self-satisfaction disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“That was uncalled for,” you hissed, embarrassment flaring at how Toji laughed and even Nanami seemed to be fighting off a smile.

Traitor.

“Anything else then?” you asked. Toji’s smirk faltered and he shot a quick look down at his hands as if a page full of notes for his predetermined rules would appear out of thin air.

“Ah…no. That’s actually all I got.”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and shifted your body towards Nanami, “Everything is set to happen according to what I asked for?”

Ever dutiful and prepared, Nanami gave you a nod as he whipped out his phone and grabbed a peculiar pair of glasses from his suit pocket to place high on the bridge of his nose.

“You are set to arrive on the red carpet five minutes after Gojo does. You’ll take photos individually, and then come together for more photos as previously discussed between you, him, and your producer.” Nanami glanced up at you, his eyes keenly aware of what you were doing with the demands you gave him, and you cursed his perceptiveness. There must have been something unwelcoming on your face because he continued on with a clearing of his throat.

“The two of you are seated on the other side of the room from ‘The Curses’, and you’ll be presenting the final award of the night with Gojo, of which the aforementioned band is not nominated, so there will be no chance of interaction in front of the general public. Other than a brief after-show interview with Gojo on the way out, there are no other requirements of you for the night.”

You let out a shaky exhale, wishing it would take along with it the jumble of nerves that had taken over your mind the last couple of days, only for them to have increased exponentially as the event of the evening neared. There wasn’t anything particularly worrisome that had happened recently, but this would be the first time you would see Sukuna in nearly two weeks, the longest the two of you had gone without seeing one another in the nine or so months since this…thing between the two of you began. Everything was fine, you had been telling yourself, despite getting antsy from the absolute undoing that you and Sukuna seemed to be on the precipice of. You’d be fine with nothing more from him than secret meetings and unspoken feelings, just like you’d be fine if the two of you walked away from each other with nothing but memories behind you.

Liar, liar, liar.

You felt the car begin to creep to a slow halt, and you anticipated no more than a minute or two to check your appearance before you were expected to exit the vehicle and parade yourself down a carpet lined with photographers.

“Do I look okay?” you asked, nervously glancing up at Nanami and Toji as the routine nerves that accompanied huge events like this began to make you tremble slightly.

“You look gorgeous,” Toji encouraged, offering you a quirk of his lips as Nanami echoed his statement, “the dress was a good pick.”

You took a glimpse down at the garment, noting how it melded to your form in some places and flowed in draping waves in the next. Your chest and shoulders were left bare, just a skimpy pair of wilting sleeves falling down your upper arms until they nearly brushed your elbows. In place of a high neck or straps, a necklace of diamonds wrapped around your neck, settling over your collar bone and dripping down a small delicate line to dangle between your shoulder blades. If someone asked you about the color of the dress, you’d insist that you singled it out from a litany of others because it would perfectly compliment the navy of Satoru’s suit and that it had absolutely nothing to do with its burgundy brown hue that reminded you of Sukuna’s eyes.

“It’s time,” Nanami announced, and you watched with bated breath as Toji exited the vehicle, knowing he would appear to open your door in the next couple seconds. “We’ll be waiting for you here in the car when the evening is over.” You replied with a nod and scooched to the edge of the seats as Toji pulled the door open, leaning in with his hand out to assist you out of the car.

“Have a fun evening, Princess,” he said, flashing you a quick wink as you took your first step onto the concrete. The red carpet started just a few feet in front of you, and you could hear a roar of voices and the shuttering of cameras as photographers got wind of your arrival. You bid Toji goodbye with a small wave and took off down the path in a mellow walk, concentrating on pasting a dazzling smile on your face and kicking the front of your dress out of your way on the side that wasn’t slit halfway up your thigh. You stopped midway down the carpet and allowed for the flashing of cameras to work you into a mindless daze. Occasionally, you would change which hip you leaned on or would turn to offer a demure smile over your shoulder. When the shouting escalated, you looked to your right and watched as Satoru sauntered up to your side.

“Hey,” he greeted you, sliding an arm low on your back and grinning down at you, “how’s your evening so far?”

“Well, my boobs are being held up with something akin to duck tape. How do you think I’m doing?” Satoru grimaced at your words and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. In true fashion, the cameras were quick to shutter their lenses to capture the interaction.

“Despite filling my head with that painful image, you should know you look stunning—if it isn’t obvious.”

“Thank you,” you told him, still smiling through the words for the sake of the photos. You broke your focus away from the barrage of flickering light and studied him out of the corner of your eye. His navy suit was tailored to fit his exact form, skimming over his body in a way that even you could admit was mouthwatering. The color offered stark contrast against the paleness of his skin and white of his hair, but did nothing to detract from the captivating cerulean of his eyes. Not that you thought there was anything existing that could. “You look handsome, Satoru.”

Your co-star turned to you with a brilliant smile on his face, the lines at his eyes tightening with the motion, and exclaimed, “Don’t I know it!” You scoffed good naturedly.

Only another minute went by before Satoru was suddenly pulling away from you, dropping his arm from your back to take a step behind and around you, only to appear again on your left side. Before you could question him, you felt his hand slide across your shoulder to tease at the rope of diamonds at your back, the whispers of his fingers against your skin causing you to shiver. He only paused there for a heartbeat or two before his hand continued on to smooth down your side and come to a stop to rest over your right hip. His fingers curled into the fabric of your dress slightly, and he used his grip to haul you against his side. You thought nothing of it, considering it Satoru’s usual antics all done in the name of offering a convincing performance for the sake of padding your pockets. You didn’t think twice as you leaned into it, nor did you break far from him as the two of you walked away from the unrelenting photographers and found solace in the covered entryway leading into the event center. Nothing about the situation would have made you stop to ponder it beyond thinking of what a pretty photo it would make, not until you happened to catch a glimpse of pink hair weaving in and out of the crowd ahead of you before disappearing through double doors.

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

In the time following the red carpet, you and Satoru found yourselves seated in the grand auditorium, placed at a nondescript white table that sat next to many others as they all curved around the stage in a crescent shape. In a silent, grateful prayer to Nanami, you were relieved to find that Sukuna’s table, where he was joined by his brothers and their friends, was situated behind you and at a far enough distance that you didn’t have to worry about catching glimpses of him out of your peripheral vision. In an effort to further distract yourself, you dove into the dinner that was sitting in front of you and continued to mingle on and off with Satoru and other famous acquaintances.

The night carried on without cause for concern, moments of conversation paused as awards were announced and speeches were given. You clapped when it was called for. You smiled accordingly when a camera passed in front of your table. You even remained perfectly composed when the show went to commercial and the stage came alive with movement as staff prepared it for the biggest performance of the evening. It wasn’t until Yuji, Choso, and Sukuna appeared at the corner leading to backstage that your heart started to hammer in your chest. They looked out over the floor and to the audience with mild disinterest, talking amongst themselves and occasionally pointing towards something on the stage as instruments were brought out and microphones were adjusted on their stands. You just barely managed to flit your gaze away from them as Sukuna turned his head and seemed to spot you in the crowd.

“What’s wrong with you?” Satoru asked lazily, his elbow braced on the table so he could drift into your space. You raised your brows at him, fiddling with a ring adorning your finger.

“There’s nothing wrong,” you told him, but even you weren’t convinced by the strained nonchalance in your tone.

“Really?” He asked, drawing out the first syllable in a way that told you he had seen right through you, “because your secret lover has been tossing glimpses your way and not once have you looked back at him in that adoring way of yours. Trouble in paradise?”

You sputtered, “No! Nothing’s wrong!”

Liar, liar, liar.

Before you could try and further convince Satoru of something you probably didn’t even believe yourself, the lights in the auditorium suddenly went dark, and there was a collective gasp from the audience as a dark red haze illuminated the silhouettes of Sukuna and his brothers in all their glory on stage. Your stomach fell out from under you in a sickening swoop, and you clenched your fingers into the napkin in your lap to give them something to do, lest you begin picking at your manicure.

You watched with nervous anticipation as a few more dim lights turned on, and it was just enough to see the band as they formed a triangle in their designated positions. Sukuna was at the very front with an electric guitar in hand and a microphone in front of his mouth. Choso and Yuji were situated parallel to each other a ways behind their elder brother, one seated at a drum set and the other standing at a keyboard, respectively. At the very back of the stage a congregation of other musicians and staff were there to offer their required support.

There was one second before Sukuna began playing his guitar that you contemplated sneaking off to the bathroom for the entirety of the performance, but his eyes flashed to you ever so briefly, and it was enough to pin you to your chair. He didn’t stray his gaze your way again as he opened his mouth to begin singing.

Even in spite of the turmoil swirling around inside of you, there was no denying how magnetizing Sukuna looked on stage. His hair was done in its normal style, but gleamed under the light from the pomade that held it in place. His suit was black and the shirt under it—which you could’ve sworn was the same swatch of color as your dress in this light—was opened one or two buttons more than usual, allowing the jagged black shapes of the tattoos on his chest to peek out.

Sukuna wasn’t known for being overly energetic on stage and didn’t jump around from place to place. He stayed rooted at his spot in front of the microphone, only dropping back to play next to one of his brothers if a particular moment in a song allowed for it. Instead, it was the subtle movement of his body that so captivated people. At more than one performance of theirs, you had been distracted by the way he would trace his fingertips up and around the microphone stand as he sang, knowing he had done the same thing against your spine the night prior. You’d once gotten caught up in the slow gyration of his hips as he matched a beat, or even lost your train of thought at the way his shoulders would glide along with a rhythm one of his brothers would play. All of it, every little move and dip and ounce of him kept you completely enthralled, hanging off every word that came out of Sukuna’s mouth, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

“...Cause it’s not just a figure of speech, you got me down on my knees, it’s getting harder to breathe out…”

Right, cause that’s believable.

“...I’d take you back to my house so we can meddle about…”

The hand that had been reaching for the glass of water in front of you spasmed, and you just narrowly avoided spilling it all over your neighbor’s dinner plate as you scrambled to keep it upright. You felt your mouth part as your breath left you in a strangled gasp and you could no more keep your head from snapping up towards him than you could forget exactly as to what he was referring to.

“Tell me,” you started, turning around to walk backwards and grin at him as the two of you followed the cobblestone path that connected the main house to the equally impressive guest lodge that Sukuna called his own, “what is there to do in this grand ol’ house of yours?”

He let out a small laugh through his nose and reached out a hand to grasp your arm when you teetered just slightly on a loose rock. You flashed him a grateful smile.

“Well, there’s a fully stocked gourmet kitchen if you’re still hungry for a late night snack.”

“Mhm, tempting,” you said, pretending to consider it as you fell back to walk normally at his side, “what else?”

“There’s a library. Aside from books we’ve all collected over the years, it's full of some eclectic poetry and a couple of paintings, amongst other things.”

“Intriguing. I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.” You had hoped it came off as interested and flirty, but not too presumptuous. It was hard to gauge his expression in the fleeting flashes of light that were cast upon one side of his face by the lanterns that littered the walkway. “Anything else?”

The two of you had just stepped into the alcove of his front door, and you used the small space to justify taking a half step closer as you tipped your head to look up at him. Sukuna was quiet for a moment, glancing away at the door, and then turned back towards you.

“It depends,” he said, shrugging lightly, “we could just kind of meddle about.”

You tilted your head to one side, unsure of exactly what he was implying. “What does that mean?”

Sukuna lips curled into a dangerous smile, his eyes closing slightly and in a way that felt daring, and he jerked his head towards the front door. “Why don’t we find out?”

All the memories involved in “finding out” that night rushed back in a flurry, flipping before your eyes as you struggled to wade through them while also focusing on the performance in front of you.

How it felt to kiss him for the first time. Sukuna had pulled you through the open front door only to push you back against it as soon as it closed. He continued kissing you in between hurried steps down a faintly lit hallway.

The urgent shuffle towards the bed, his room dark in color, but not nearly as cold and moody as you would have imagined. The way his hands traveled over every inch of you, grasping at your shirt to tug it over your head and peeling your bra straps down your shoulder so he could run his nose along your collarbone unencumbered.

Your small squeak of surprise when he finally removed his clothes and you were able to see exactly where else those tantalizing black tattoos marked his body, and the strangled noise he had let out when you dropped to your knees to kiss and lick a trail of them, starting from the tops of his thighs, to his chest, and eventually stopping to nip at one that curved over his shoulder.

You heard Satoru asking if you were okay, but he sounded miles away, muffled by the music, the excitement of the audience, and what was going on in your head. You felt similar to that moment, when the two of you were walking to his house and you had stumbled on a rock, and just before Sukuna had stabilized you, you had felt a flip through your stomach as you anticipated falling backwards.

The ghosting of his lips down your neck before he went farther down to mouth at your breasts. His weight pressed you into the plushness of his mattress and the muscles in his arms bowed and flexed with his movement. How your legs had parted to make room for him to settle between your thighs, and the way the fullness of him the first moment he was inside you had your back arching and the air in your lungs escaping with a gasp. Sukuna had sounded equally as wrecked. And in the end—some indistinguishable amount of time later from that first moment—when you had finished yet again, he followed right behind you, clutching you to his chest and groaning in your ear in a way that gave you goosebumps.

“Hey!” You felt an arm twine around your lower back as Satoru’s mouth brushed up against your ear. “Are you okay? I’ve called your name a couple times already?”

You turned to Satoru with a stricken look on your face, unsure of what to do other than shake your head at him and try to wrangle your features into something neutral. You ignored his concerned touch to your shoulder and reached out to take the glass of water in your hand you nearly spilled minutes ago and gulped the whole thing down in just a couple swallows.

You could begrudgingly admit to yourself when you were lying about what this whole involvement with Sukuna meant to you, if for nothing else than to protect your heart and mind. You knew you wanted him, and in more than just a lust-driven way. And you knew he wanted you, but were unsure if that desire ventured beyond the realm of physicality. But, if the way Sukuna let his eyes linger on you for the second time during his performance, and how he stumbled over his words and feet that day at the beach in a way that was undoubtedly uncharacteristic of himself, you would wager pieces of yourself that he had to be conflicted over it too.

The band’s performance wound down and finished with a flourish of grand applause and raucous cheering, and you clapped robotically as to not stand out from those sitting around you. Chatter continued amongst the room, and only a few minutes passed as the stage was being cleared before you and Satoru were fetched to present the final award of the night. The two of you lingered backstage until the cameras resumed rolling and a thick white envelope was pressed into your hand. Satoru held his arm out to you, and you tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow so he could lead the two of you out and onto the stage. You managed to keep an easy expression on your face and a cheerful smile stretched over your lips. You bantered with Satoru at the designated prompts and shouted gleefully when the two of you announced the winner of the award, before you both were swept away and set free from contractual obligations.

“I’m so sick of this damned dress,” you complained, yanking the fabric at your chest upwards as the sweat garnered from the sheer amount of nerves you had the entire evening was causing it to slip. You and Satoru hurried down the hallway exit to where reporters were waiting to get their post-show interviews, and you couldn’t tell if you kept your pace quick because of your intense desire to go home or because you desperately wanted to avoid running into a particular someone.

“That’s a shame,” Satoru pouted, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that was supposed to be endearing, but really just came across looking like he had something in his eyes. “I really like it.”

“You wear it then!” That got a hearty laugh out of him, and you were grateful when the joy of it actually lightened just a little the heavy pressure in your chest. Satoru recovered himself as the two of you were stopped by a reporter and began answering the relatively harmless questions about your shared movie and experiences working with each other. It was mindless work, and you could tell that the reporter was nearly finished before they turned to you and asked you a question directly.

“Tell us,” they began excitedly, “what did you think about ‘The Curses’ performance and the new song they debuted tonight?” With a tilt of their microphone in your direction, they watched you expectedly, and you scrambled to come up with something that would sound objectively positive.

You wished Sukuna would use actual words and tell you directly what he felt about you instead of hiding it in a song.

You wished he would leave you alone if he wanted nothing more than for someone to warm his bed when he felt like it.

You wished you felt nothing.

“I think the sound was great and typical of them, even if the lyrics seemed atypical. It'll be interesting to see what the band puts out together going forward. What did you think, Satoru?” You swung your head towards your co-star, rerouting the reporter’s attention to hopefully prevent any more questions regarding Sukuna and his band from being presented to you.

“Oh, yes, I agree with what she said,” Satoru replied, nodding his head as a mischievous twitch of his lips had you narrowing your eyes at him. “Although, I find the idea of the “King of Curses” being on his knees for anyone hard to believe.” Satoru gave a small, sad shake of his head and looked over at you.

Oh, god.

“I pity Sukuna if he’s never given himself a chance to experience such a thing. I can tell you, Princess here is a sight to behold from down below on one’s knees.” His bold declaration had you—and the reporter— staring at him with mouths agape, both of you taken aback by his brazenness. It took Satoru winking at you before your brain would begin working again.

“He, uhm, he’s referencing a scene from our movie! Please understand, he’s referencing a scene from our upcoming movie and nothing more, I swear!” You nearly shouted, throwing your hands out towards them to plead your case, lest you wake up in the morning to headlines talking about Gojo Satoru putting his head in places it absolutely didn’t belong. The reporter nodded slowly, eyes wide and vaguely disturbed, and borderline hysterical laughter made its way out of your mouth as Satoru thanked them for their time and ushered you down the rest of the way to where SUVs were waiting to pick up their assigned passengers.

“You seem to exist only for the purpose of wreaking absolute havoc on those around you, Satoru, and I’m not sure what I did to deserve being on the receiving end of it,” you lamented to him, watching in sheer exhaustion as he raised his arm to wiggle his fingers at one of the vehicles at the end of the line.

“Don’t lie and act like I don’t enrich your life,” he teased, and if you detected the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes, it was gone before you could give it any more consideration. “Besides, I made you laugh. You looked like you needed it.”

Perhaps you didn’t give Satoru enough credit, nor had you even stopped to realize what a good friend he could be. At least when he wasn’t implying to the world that the two of you had seen each other naked, or trespassing onto your property in the wee hours of the morning. And because you knew he was right, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed, feeling more comfort than you had in days when he threw an arm around your shoulders and returned the hug with equal gusto.

“Now go,” he told you, dropping a quick kiss to your temple and pushing you towards a black SUV that had just pulled up on the street in front of you. Toji stepped out from around it, shooting you a grin, and opened the door to reveal Nanami sitting inside.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you told him, and gathered the skirt of your dress in your hands so you could step into the car. You felt Toji’s hand against your back to offer support as you climbed in and you collapsed into the seat next to Nanami with an exaggerated groan of relief.

“Pleasant evening?” He inquired, a smooth blonde brow arching upwards as he moved his attention from his phone to your slouched position in the seat.

“I heard your boy toy confessed his love through song in front of a live audience. How romantic,” Toji snarked, shutting the door behind him as he took his spot across from you and Nanami.

“That’s not what happened,” you snapped at him, “and how do you even know about that?”

Toji shrugged in that annoying way of his, not bothering to hide his shit-eating grin either, and you figured you were better off not knowing. Letting out a sigh, you lifted your legs and dropped your feet into his lap, heels and all, and raised your brows at him in expectation. He grimaced, glancing down at your shoes with trepidation before shaking his head. You snarled at him as best you could, feeling triumphant once he curled his lip but proceeded to unbuckle and pull off each shoe from your feet before swiping them off his lap. You snickered.

“Children, the both of you,” Nanami grumbled, but didn’t say anything more as he leaned his head back against his seat and let his eyes drift closed. The rest of the drive home passed in silence. Toji played some mindless game on his phone, Nanami kept his eyes shut, and you stewed in your own messy thoughts, convincing yourself you had all of this rightfully figured out and would be perfectly content with whatever outcome prevailed.

Liar, liar, liar.

Once the three of you arrived back at your home, Nanami was quick to bid you and Toji goodbye before leaving in his car. Your bodyguard disappeared into your kitchen, and you went upstairs to your room where you spent twenty minutes prying yourself out of your dress and another ten putting it—and the stunning set of diamonds—into their packaging to be sent back to their respective lenders. You had just left your bathroom after finishing your nighttime routine when your phone dinged twice. With half a mind to leave the message unread and simply throw your phone out the window, you went about getting dressed in a soft set of lounge clothes and rubbing some lotion into your hands. You were about to go downstairs to get a snack when another notification sounded through your room, and this time you had no self control left to keep yourself from reaching from your phone.

Sukuna: I would like to speak with you tonight. If you’re willing.

Sukuna: I can come to you.

Sukuna: Don’t ignore me either.

You grumbled incoherently at your phone, feeling both somewhat relieved that Sukuna had reached out to you, and also like you were one more message away from throwing up. With that in mind, you sent him a quick text back, ultimately deciding that you would know no peace until all of this was hashed out between the two of you.

You: Be there in 15.

You desperately needed the time it would take to drive to his house to formulate a rough idea of what you wanted to say to Sukuna, as well as wanting the opportunity to flee the scene in your own vehicle if it came to that. After grabbing your keys from your dresser and sliding your feet into a pair of casual shoes, you made your way downstairs and out the door. You were grateful that Toji was nowhere to be seen. While he would surely hear about what happened from you in the next day or so, you weren’t keen on having his knowing gaze on you as marched out the door in an outfit akin to pajamas at nearly eleven thirty at night.

You arrived at Sukuna’s house a short time later, having spent the entire drive singing some random song at the top of your lungs to avoid having to think about anything other than keeping your car straight and centered on the road. You nearly threw it back into reverse and peeled out of the driveway when you spotted him standing outside his front door, arms crossed in front of his chest. He had clearly been waiting for you to arrive, and you had to swallow back a knot in your throat as you got out of your car and approached him.

“Hi,” you called out tentatively, taking note that he too was in lounging clothes, and you wondered for a second if he had been intending to sleep away the night’s events before something compelled him to message you. Sukuna nodded at you, only murmuring back a quick greeting before grabbing you around the wrist and pulling you through the front door. He didn’t stop once he closed the door behind you, instead leading you down the hall until you reached his bedroom. You shook your wrist from his grip and took your spot a couple feet across from him while he chose to lean back against his bed. You needed the distance between the two of you to think, to breathe, and to simply resist the overwhelming urge to throw yourself at him. Because looking at him now, as you could hear his earlier lyrics echoing inside your head, you were sure that you wanted nothing more than to be with him, to never leave him, and you desperately hoped that he felt the same way too.

“You lied to me,” you blurted out, “on the beach that day. You said you’d never write anything that could be considered romantic. What changed?”

“I don’t know if you could necessarily consider that song romantic,” Sukuna said, crossing his arms again so he could drum his fingers against his bicep, “a bit reminiscent maybe, or a touch lustful would be better.”

“Semantics, then,” you replied, starting to feel somewhat put off at his blasé attitude that you had noticed the second you saw him, “but you weren’t exactly being subtle. “Meddle about” doesn’t have to refer to me specifically at every given moment, but if it doesn’t at all, you did a poor job of convincing me that I…we…that night are not the muse for that particular lyric. I would argue that having a muse like that in the first place could be considered romantic given our involvement with each other.”

Sukuna was quiet, and didn’t offer any physical indication as to what he was thinking or feeling about what you had said. It was starting to make you angry, and you moved a touch closer to him.

“If you don’t care, if you don’t want me, you should just be honest.” His jaw clenched tight, and you hoped if you pushed just far enough you could figure out what was going on inside that head of his.

“I never said that,” he growled, standing up from his place against the bed and taking a step towards you.

“But you’re not saying anything else either!” You said, your voice raising in frustration. “I know I never told you anything different, so I’m willing to be patient with you for a time while you figure out how you feel, but I would like to do more than this with someone, and right now, that person is you.” You paused for a moment to catch your breath and noted how his eyes lit up subtly. “However, I will not continue to have us dance around each other like this forever. I know a significant part of our lives will always be subject to a large amount of scrutiny and prying eyes, but somewhere, someone is out there who would be willing to do it with me.”

Any previous emotion that had been on his face was wiped clear. “That’s not fair,” Sukuna spat out, hands clenching and unclenching at his side, and you were appalled by the nerve he had.

“It’s a hundred percent fair!” you yelled, closing the distance between you two so you could jab a finger into his chest. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean you can keep me from anyone else!”

“I. Never. Said. That.”

“Then say something different! Or else I won’t believe you.” Your head jerked up close to his as you grit your words out between your teeth. Both your chests were rising in rapid succession, tension and nerves escalating in your bodies as the two of you stared each other down, neither of you willing—or brave enough—to bend the first knee.

Sukuna did, however, smash his lips against yours. It took you by surprise, how hard he pressed his mouth to yours, and just how quickly it wiped your head clear of all thoughts except for how his body felt against yours. It was exhilarating and delectable and everything you wanted, but you refused to follow him into bed one last time before addressing what would happen after. You ripped away from him, slapping your palms against his chest to keep space, but the way his hands clutched desperately at the tops of your arms and his head bobbed down towards yours in an effort to reconnect your lips nearly made you falter.

“I want this with you,” you said quietly, sliding your hands down Sukuna’s chest to splay out your fingers against the solid planes of his abdominal muscles and letting your thumbs slip ever so slightly under the waistband of his pants as you locked eyes with him,“but not without all of you. Otherwise, I can find this elsewhere.”

His eyes narrowed and a snarl scrunched his nose while the grip he had on your arms tightened. “You’re being a brat.”

You laughed bitterly. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve called me that, but I don’t think I like it as much this time. Doesn’t quite sound the same, don’t you think?”

“Ah,” he sneered, “she’s perceptive.”

“Enough to know that you’re stalling,” you countered. He didn’t say anything back, but his eyes bounced between yours, asking for something, pleading with you for just one more minute. You were willing to give it to him, but only according to how you wanted to.

“If you’re not able to continue this any further,” you said to him, “and the lyrics in that song don’t have any deeper meaning, then you don’t care if I walk right out of this room, do you?”

You were vaguely aware that Sukuna was allowing you to push him around, to act like you had an equal measure of control in this dark room of his. And just maybe, if you thought about it enough, you did. Because he didn’t protest when you urged him backwards onto his bed with the hands still on his chest. He said nothing when you landed in his lap, thighs spread to straddle his hips. He didn’t resist when you dug your fingers into his hair, as soft as it was pink, to drag his head back so you could look him in the eyes.

“Exactly,” he bit out, but his hands danced over your waist and then used the fabric bunching at your hips to close the distance between your chests. You giggled lowly in his ear, dragging your lips down his jaw before coming to a stop over his so your mouths could hover a breath apart from each other.

“You’re brave to lie to me as I sit here perched on your lap. Don’t you know I can tell that your heart isn’t the only thing throbbing?” You ground your hips down onto his with as much force as you could muster, and his answering moan nearly had you giving in, ready to forgo the difficulty of talking through emotions to satiate the desperate need to have him. But, for the sake of your own bleeding heart, you resisted, sitting back on Sukuna’s thighs and hoping your pleading expression conveyed everything you couldn’t say.

Please, put me out of my misery.

“We are at an impasse, it seems.” Sukuna’s voice was low and neutral, and it slid through your ears and nestled painfully in your gut.

“It seems we are,” you whispered. Your voice was hollow and final.

Please, let me run, let me hide, let more go somewhere you’ll never find me.

You wanted nothing more than to slink back home and huddle under your blankets than spend another moment in here with him, convinced he would prefer the two of you part ways just because he refused to be vulnerable, and you made a move to swing your leg off him when Sukuna twisted and in the next breath you were under him.

“Here’s what I know,” he said, letting his body settle down on top of yours, and you noticed that his eyes were brighter and the corners of his mouth were ticking upwards in a smile he couldn’t fight. His voice was light and optimistic. “I am stubborn to a massive fault, and I have not been fair to you in how I have behaved and approached my feelings for you. I am sorry.”

A shaky breath of relief passed from your mouth and you opened it to reassure him—,

“I also know that I would prefer it if Gojo Satoru never came within 100 feet of you again.”

Your eyes bulged as a fit of laughter replaced whatever words were at the tip of your tongue, unable to control the amusement that followed his declaration. Sukuna eyed you warily, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle any more sounds in order to encourage him to continue.

“However, I know that is irrational and improbable given your careers, so I will be content with hoping that by making this relationship between us official, he will have to respect some obvious boundaries.” Sukuna sounded quite proud of himself, smirking down at you with a cheeky gleam in his eyes. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that doing such a thing, while lovely, would have no effect on Satoru’s inability to acknowledge, let alone follow, said boundaries.

“Noble,” you quipped back at him, utterly transfixed by the way he nuzzled his nose against yours, “and something I can happily agree to.”

Sukuna grinned, all white teeth and slightly dimpled cheeks, and you went to throw your arms around his neck when, suddenly, he was no longer over you, but standing at the edge of the bed as he dragged you by your ankles towards him. He kept his eyes on you as he tugged your pants down your legs and threw them over his shoulder. In the next moment, he was sliding to his knees in front of you, kissing his way down your leg.

“What are you doing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of him. You didn’t need to clarify what specifically he was about to do. There had been numerous times before this one where Sukuna had his head between your legs. You couldn’t begin to count how many instances you had hovered over his face, fingers clenched around his headboard as he drew circles with his tongue, nor could you recall exactly which surfaces in his home he had spread you out on, his mouth already on you as he pulled your legs around his ears because he couldn’t wait to get to his bedroom. That being said, it was a bit of a shame to admit that you hadn’t ever seen him on his knees before you.

“I’ll be damned,” Sukuna growled, already slipping his fingers into the band of your underwear to shimmy them out from under you and toss them in the same direction as your pants, “if I go another day knowing Gojo Satoru has seen you from an angle I have not.” And with that, he grabbed your thighs and spread them open around his head as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Well,” you breathed out, throwing your head back as your eyes fluttered shut, “we can’t have that, now can we?”

————————————————————————————————-

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to read this little series! It means a lot!

As I mentioned above, this is the last major update for what I had originally planned out for this fic. I will happily write little extra bits if/when inspiration strikes or if anyone has any suggestions.

Also, please forgive me if this part seems less flowing/has worse pacing than the others. I am going through it as I try to fight off some cold or virus over the last couple days and just needed to get this out.

[tokiohotelzslut]

My Angel

Pairing- Tom kaulitz X fem!reader

Synopsis- she's his angel, his person who lightens up the darkest parts of his life, as he calls her "my angel"

A/N- AGHH my first post, I'm excited and scared at the same, time but I really love this and hope you do to <3

"baby" her soft voice sounded throughout the apartment as she entered, he heard her taking off her shoes and placing her handbag on the kitchen counter.

"over here" he replied, voice a lot sharper, tense and angry, she sighed knowing he must have had a bad day at the studio but entered the room.

She didn't bother asking if he was okay, she knew he wasn't, and he never really liked talking about things that bothered him and she didn't push him to.

She walked right over to him sitting on his lap and wrapping her petite arms around his neck as he breathed in instantly wrapping his rougher hands around her small frame, resting his face in the crook of her neck.

He took notice of the white flowy dress she wore, and couldn't help but smile.

"you really are my angel" he whispered pressing a soft kiss against her forehead as he moved out from her neck, sha also looked up at him with a bright smile.

He chuckled pulling her back into him as the two decided on ordering take-out and watching movies while cuddling all night, and thats exactly what they did.

___________

The next day tom was in an interview with the rest of the band barely listening to what they were saying till the interview said his name.

"yea" he asked now focusing on him.

"how's things with your girlfriend, longest relationship you've had, what a surprise" he laughed so did some of the people in the crowd.

Tom ignored the second part of his question not caring about what he thought, a smile on his face as he thought of his girl though.

The others couldn't help but smile at the lovestruck expression on his face, knowing that he had finally found the person who brought out the better in him.

"my angel's great, honestly I couldn't write enough songs or even express how much I love her, she's the light in me I didn't know could exist, she's honestly the prettiest woman I have layed my eyes on and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with her" he answered truthfully, the crowd making a bunch of 'aww' sounds.

"you call her, 'my angel's whenever you speak about her, why is that" the intervirwer asked.

Tom didn't have to think twice about his answer, already knowing the answer.

"Because she's exactly what comes to mind when I think of the expression 'an angel sent from heaven' she's my angel, sent from heaven"

[an-au-blog]

Oh, your love is sunlight

Happy (late) Valentine's Day (version without text ↓ +description in tags)

[astranauticus]

Link Click single "Prometheus" Fan Translation

translation under cut!

让黑夜吞噬最后一点光

Let night swallow the last bit of light

就当是一场梦

Pretend this is all a dream

如果无法挣脱索性就让一切都失控吧

If I can't escape, then let everything go out of control

尝尝我的痛

If you have a taste of my pain

或许才会明白哭到失声根本没有用吧

Maybe you'll understand that there is no point to crying

倒数着三二一零

Count down, three two one zero

卖弄可笑的六欲七情

You're still playing up your laughable emotions and desires

这世界已经天翻地覆

This world has already been turned upside down

不如和我一起跳到深渊感受这失重吧 Why don't you jump into the abyss to feel this weightlessness with me

叫他们的幻想蒸发

Let their dreams evaporate

像是面无表情撕碎玩具那般从容

As simple as coldly tearing apart a stuffed toy

谁叫他们学不会听话

It's their fault they keep falling into my hands again and again

还是一次又一次地落入我的手中

Because they can't learn to stay in line

早听腻了烦人的叽叽喳喳

I've long grown tired of this annoying chattering

用绝望在墙上染个碎花

Use despair to paint a splatter on the wall

请他们永远永远闭上嘴吧

Invite them to never, never speak again

[(LTX:) piano solo]

隐秘的血色的黑夜童话

The hidden, blood-soaked midnight fairytale

刹那间将所有光芒抹杀

Smothers all light in an instant

偷走那神的火把

Steal the torch of the gods

坠落下万丈悬崖

Fall down the bottomless abyss

没有归处的人等待世界崩塌

The ones with no home await the world's collapse

（最后的 狂欢吧

(The final carnival

最后的 狂欢吧）

The final carnival)

偷走那神的火把

Steal the torch of the gods

坠落下万丈悬崖

Fall down the bottomless abyss

没有归处的人啊

The ones with no home

静静沉睡吧

Sleep peacefully now

暂时藏起了利爪和鳞片

I'll conceal my claws and scales for now

魔鬼躲进她黑白的琴键

The demon hides in her black and white keys

收起你那套因果循环

Keep your talk of causality and repetition to yourself

我会遭报应吗？反正还没应验

Will I receive retribution? We don't know that yet

都是我的消耗品

(LX:) They're all expendables to me

被我牵着鼻子走还抓不着要领

I'm dragging you along by the nose and you still can't figure it out

一个 两个 三个 四个

(LX:) one, two, three, four

心跳加速只是我的白噪音

The sound of a racing heart is just white noise to me

撬开一层层的保险

Prying away the layers of safeguards

像茶余饭后的消遣

Just to pass the time after a fine meal

对黑夜缺了点敬畏

You people who get hurt needlessly

白白受伤的人

Because you lack respect for the night

看着我千万别眨眼

When you look at me, never blink

下一秒骇人的画面

Lest you miss the scenes of carnage

命运她由我来加减

I am the one who will alter fate herself

我是那灭灯的神

I am the god that extinguishes the light

隐秘的血色的黑夜童话

The hidden, blood-soaked midnight fairytale

刹那间将所有光芒抹杀

Smothers all light in an instant

偷走那神的火把

Steal the torch of the gods

坠落下万丈悬崖

Fall down the bottomless abyss

没有归处的人等待世界崩塌

The ones with no home await the world's collapse

没有归处的人啊

The ones with no home

静静沉睡吧

Sleep peacefully now

(bonus: my translation of 321!)

[skitskatdacat63]

"Bring on The Dancing Horses"(x) - Echo and The Bunnymen × Ferrari Drivers

[hopelesslovebug]

🎵 u should do 13 I’m manifesting a good song

BRO BRO YOU JUST GOT AN INCREDIBLE SONG

the diverge by jack stauber