#the mold broke.....no it didn't you couldn't even make such a mold

[andy-clutterbuck]

[is-the-sky-blue]

WARM: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, satosugu x fem!reader, pet names, praise, teasing, fingering, finger sucking, spanking, begging

You don't think you've ever felt this warm.

You don't think you've ever sweat this much.

Breathy whines and pants broke past your kiss bitten lips, growing more and more swollen as you try to keep them shut, the embarrassment creeping up your ears with the sheer volume you cried only to find fingers fucking themselves into your mouth, making you gag as his sultry voice whispered, "cheer f'me pretty," breathtaking blue eyes capturing your gaze as you suckled, whining as he pulled them off your tongue but blushing as he put them into the mouth of the man in front of you, his deep groan making you reel as his hooded purple irises stared at you with so much desire you couldn't keep the eye contact.

It was humiliating, to be stripped bare, pink panties and bra flung somewhere left to be found in the morning as you were too preoccupied with the fuzzy sensation in your stomach.

You never tried to get here, didn't do anything to end up in this predicament and yet here you were, melding into their two bodies as they reduced you to a blabbering puddle, the film you wanted to watch remaining at the title screen as you couldn't even hit play before they pounced.

You were a mess, your sweaty limbs entangling with anything they could grab, fingers flexing and pulling as Suguru sat cross legged on the floor with you in his lap, your chest pressed into his annoyingly still clothed one as you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers every so often tugging at the ends of his luscious dark locks as you attempted to burrow your flushed and damp face into the crook of his neck.

"Please, please, please," was the only thing you could whimper as you felt your thighs jiggle with each slap of their fingers. Satoru's hot breath fanned over your sweltering neck as he leaned over your back, hand sliding into the stickiness between your legs.

Suguru had one large hand wrapped around your waist, cupping the fat of your hips as you squirmed, keeping you planted on his lap as you tried to worm yourself to your knees, trying to let your skin hit the plush pink rug on your bedroom floor that was now getting soaked.

Satoru was seated infuriatingly close to your back, leaning onto you, sharing his warmth and you could only pant as you overheated from both their bodies and the incessant stimulation they forced upon your submissive figure.

Suguru's thick fingers pounded into your dripping pussy, slipping inside in tandem with the digits Satoru squirmed inside as well, four varying shaped objects now ramming inside, wiggling against your velvety walls as you writhed against them.

You g-spot whined in aggravation as it was assaulted, your clit not safe from their relentless attack either as Satoru slid one of his insanely long and deft fingers over the weeping bud, rolling and twisting with such care you felt tears begin to well.

It was warm, very, very, warm, the closed door of your bedroom refusing air circulation as you remained sandwiched between their taught and muscular forms that molded you to their whims.

"What d'ya need baby," Satoru hummed into the shell of your ear, causing you to shudder as he thrusted up.

"What are you beggin for pretty girl," Suguru murmured into your hair, the vibrations tingling onto you breasts as you pressed against his chest, his hand forcing you to arch into him.

"I-" you gasped, your cheeks impossibly warm as you tried to pull yourself away, fingers pushing onto Suguru's broad shoulders as you attempting to pry yourself from their stifling grasp, from the monstrous pace destroying your weeping walls, "can't- oh fuck," you squirmed, hips spasming as you felt the butterflies flap their wings languidly in your lower belly, the heat, your boyfriends could only pool, swarming in your stomach as you shook.

"Don't try and run princess," Satoru chastised, peeling his hand from your clit only to smack your ass, flesh reverberating against his hand as the loud, smack, did nothing to drown out the embarrassing, shlick shlick shlick, your cunt sang. It only caused you to clench around them as they pistoned inside you, refusing to leave you empty as Suguru always had two digits far up your cunt whenever Satoru pulled out and vice versa. You could feel Suguru groan at the grip you had on him. "Gonna make you feel good, gonna give you everything you want," he continued, pressing a bite into your shoulder, causing you to whine before he licked over the pain, he purposefully spread, with his tongue, lapping at your sweat soaked skin as though he was a healing balm.

"Want you to sto- AH!" you moaned, fingers fisting themselves into Suguru's hair as you screamed, leaning your head back onto Satoru's shoulders as your toes curled, a particularly punishing plunge forcing itself into your guts. You panted shamelessly, feeling as though you'd pass out as only heated oxygen entered your lungs, the blood rushing beneath your skin on a tirade as you panicked at the feeling of your approaching orgasm.

"What did you want baby," Satoru took the moment to tease, circling your clit as he pushed you further into Suguru's torso, eying the way your shaking tits compressed, before pressing a fervent kiss to your lips, shoving his tongue down your throat as you could only close your eyes, mewling into his mouth as you couldn't find enough control of your body to kiss him back.

The string of saliva that hung between your now parted mouths making Suguru chuckle as you stared starry eyed at the sight, your clenching walls a strong indication on how the horny image turned you on impossibly more.

You gasped, chest growing tight as you tried to fight back again, trying to force your knees onto the carpet to pull yourself off their fingers, to lessen how far they squirmed inside, but their hands merely followed your hips, no stutter in the erotic, pap, pap, pap, as you hovered off Suguru's toned thighs, boobs pressing into his face as you tried to compose yourself, his tongue coming to suckle at your nipple before you tugged harshly at his hair, trying to force him off, "I ca-, mmm, c-can't," you sobbed, feeling the tears begin to fall one at a time, trickling off your jaw, down your hickey marred neck and into the cleavage of your chest, trying to fall into the dip of your boob only for Suguru to lick it up, covering your chest in his saliva despite your efforts to pry his heated mouth away.

"What d'ya mean you can't," Satoru huffed, jamming his fingers inside quicker and quicker, "pretty sure this pussy wants even more" he grunts, making you see stars as you convulsed, pulling your ass closer to Suguru, you clit meeting his pecks as you forced your hips up and away from the maniac behind you, your arms wrapped tight around his head, trying to pull away from the deranged momentum.

"I can't, ngh, Toru I can't, please!" you wailed, bringing a hand to try and push him back, his bare shoulders, exposed by his fitted tank top clad torso, not budging under your pressure as you mustered all your strength into your perspiring palm, shoving him as you dropped back into a sit, knees giving out as you tried to grind yourself impossibly closer into your dark haired partner. "Satoru," you smacked his arm, hitting and pushing as you tried to keep distance between you and him to no avail, his chest firm against your shoulder blades. "S-Slow d-down" you squealed, his pounding much faster than Suguru's, the stark contrast forcing your insides to flutter as they squelched, dribbling down as you pooled between your legs, drooling cunt drip, drip, dripping, like a leaky faucet. You slithered a hand behind you, tightly grasping Satoru's wrist, feeling the muscles flex and contract beneath your touch, trying to make him, at the very least, pause for a moment, but despite your pleads and efforts his fingers plunged deeper and deeper, hitting spots of you that only his long fingers could as Suguru scissored you wide.

"S-Slow d-down," he snickered in a mocking moan, pinching your clit between his hands, forcing himself between your cunt and Suguru's abdomen. "Awh is my baby overwhelmed," he blew against your ear, fat droplets spilling down your cheek as you felt your mind begin to melt.

"S-Suguru," you squealed, staring up at him with glassy eyes and a pout, "h-he-hel-help," your voice stuttered, their rampaging digits shaking the entirety of your figure.

The soothing grin on his face did nothing to appease the overstimulating sensation burning your lower half. "Mmm, I am helping angel," he cooed, slipping his hand from your back to your cheek, running a gentle thumb over the apple of it, "makin you feel good, yeah, got you squirming and lookin so pretty for me, for us," he purred "you're gonna cum fer' us right, reward us with your juices," he cocked a grin, forcing you to stare into his overbearing purple as his knuckles dripped in your flooding essence, it sliding down his forearm in an erotic waterfall. "Gonna cum like a good girl right, gonna orgasm and tremble in our arms," he said so sweetly it fucked with your brain, "gonna help you through it," and you whimpered desperately.

"It-" you choked, "s'too much," you squeezed your eyes shut, rolling your hips in yet another feeble attempt to slow them down.

"But doesn't it feel nice," he whispered, "don't we make you feel so nice baby, that fuzzy feeling in your tummy is good ain't it," he persuaded, "tellin us to stop when my little princess down their is drooling and telling me she's happy," Suguru coos so gently, his tender tone a stark contrast to the filth spilling from his lips as he rammed into your cunt.

"She's singing my love," Satoru grins, the wet smacks of your pussy echoing throughout the hot room, you swore steam was beginning to cloud the walls as your eyes fogged over, salty droplets doing nothing to clear your vision as your breaths stuttered, "telling us to keep goin," he murmurs, "clenching so tightly, not wanting to let us go."

"m'not," you try and protest, shaking your heavy head.

"Baby don't lie," Suguru chastised, slapping your ass and you moaned so loudly it had them smirking. "She's so tight even though we keep fuckin her open," he praised and you felt muddled as he complimented your cunt instead of you.

You could feel your tongue loll out as you tried to gasp for air, your hips finally giving out and you just had to let them have their way as you cried, their tender kisses contrasting their rolling digits.

"it, it's, s'warm," you cry weakly.

"I know baby, I know," Suguru pecked your temple, comforting your melting body in his embrace.

"feel it," you mumbled, blinking out tears through your wet lashes.

"Mhm," Satoru hums, "what's it feel like," he cooed, grabbing a fistful of your hair before yanking you back, no longer letting you press your head into Suguru's chest and you squealed. Your eyes began to glaze, as he stared at you, as they both gazed at you.

"S'warm nd fuzzy," you confessed, "feels tingly," you whined, "my tummy feels tingly nd it, it," you groaned, "s'burning," you sob, breathlessly, "s'throbbing my tummy is-" you sighed, feeling them hit you just right, "feels," you cry "feels good!" this electric pulse began to track beneath your skin, making your toes curl as you contracted, your muscles beginning to grow taught. "Feel so, so, so, so, good," you babble as you tried to swallow the drool beginning to pool in your mouth, tiny rivulet slipping past your lip as you squirmed and cried, and then you felt it, between your walls their fingers connected, there were four digits and they were beginning to interlace, bending at the knuckles, spreading you wide.

"FUCK!" you screamed at the realization, they were practically holding hands while inside you. Then you heard it, the sucking and panting as they kissed over your head, "fuck, fuck, fuck," you began to grow even wetter, even hornier, if that was possible.

It was as though lights were beginning to flicker on, one after the other, growing brighter and brighter, burning their bulbs, this all consuming tremor snaking up your spine, "s'coming, oh my god!" you whine, watching as their lips parted, melted limbs no longer letting you hump or grind for more friction as you sobbed, erotic ah, ah, ah's, leaving your lips with every thrust upwards. "Please, please, please," you begin to beg despite not needing to, they were giving you everything you need, everything you could ever want and more, they were pleasing you, drilling you open as they satisfied every last nerve in your body. "Cumming," you pant, "m' gonna cum!" you scream, moaning pornographically as you felt their intertwined fingers rut into you, touching every last aching bit of your sobbing cunt as that overwhelming ecstasy consumed you, their murmured praises and encouragement falling deaf upon your blood rushing ears as that final thrust, that final swipe onto your clit had you spilling, heat bursting throughout every limb as shockwaves rippled throughout your trembling body. Your soul ascending at the out of body experience.  Tears fell freely as you shook there, open mouthed, choked out, high pitched moans filling the space as you pooled, flooding every last drop you had inside of you out, relief permeating your bones as the stressed out knot in your gut snapped and gushed.

 "I, ugh- oh " you whimpered, hot mouths searing your neck as they peppered calming kisses over your skin, their plunging fingers beginning to slow as Satoru eased up his frantic rubbing, instead tracing languid circles on your clit as he helped you ride it out.

"Doing so good baby, just breath," Suguru cooed, cupping your face with one of his hands as you sobbed, "breath c'mon my pretty little girl, such a good girl," he mumbled as you hiccupped, bleary eyed as you felt that tingle recede from your convulsing limbs, travelling down and back to your slobbering cunt, dripping out into your cum as you gasped, the crashing ocean meeting the shore, their gentle laps at the sand fueling your cunt as the last drops came out in waves, recoiling before pushing forward, growing smaller and smaller each time as your hips stuttered, rolling in slow circles as you felt yourself come back to the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut before falling limp, Suguru catching you into his chest and carefully you felt their fingers separate in your spent out pussy, slowly, they pulled out, unstuffing your cunt before they left you empty, the feeling of your crying walls fluttering around nothing making you sob weakly into his chest, hiccups shaking your torso as you cried. 

"Did so well pretty thing," Satoru cooed, and your fuzzy visioned eyes couldn't see the way him and Suguru swapped hands, the dark haired man letting the snowy haired boy suckle on his sticky, cum lathered fingers as Satoru placed his fingers onto Suguru's tongue, the sound of their spit swishing as they sucked and sucked, groaning at your nectar. "My baby tastes so good," he moaned, licking up from Suguru's elbow, the long stream of slick staining his tongue as Suguru cradled your exhausted form in his arm, soothingly patting your head as you caught your breath, the sounds of his spittle mixing with your essence making your mind throb as you tried not to dwell on it, focusing on your heaving chest.

Suguru suckled gently, tongue wrapped around each digits as he wiped you off from Satoru's fingers, opening his mouth wide to let Satoru rub his wet forearm over his tongue, letting him taste every last drop and he lapped it up in earnest. "So sweet," he praised, removing his hand from Satoru's mouth, disregarding the protesting whines the white haired boy let out as he rubbed his spit and barely slick covered hand over your back, rubbing circles as you focused on your breaths, the overheating air finally dispelling as your warmed flesh tried to cool itself down.

"So good for us," Satoru murmured, shifting his legs from the seated position he remained in, staring at the practical puddle you made on your rug, but it didn't matter, he'd just buy you another one anyways. 

He gazed upon you in awe, your trembling, sweaty, naked form curled up into his partner, your aching cunt staring at him, gaping, revealing your pink insides that glistened with your juices and he couldn't help himself when he leaned forward, licking you up.

The gasp you let out was tearful, but he slurped regardless, trying to get what he could before Suguru's large hand yanked him by his hair, his scalp stinging as he pulled him off, the slick pop ringing out as his sugar covered lips only pulled into a self-satisfied, toothy, grin. "Leave her alone," he huffed, cradling you gently as you pressed your legs tightly shut, attempting to soothe your weak mewls, scratchy throat settling in, "she's already been overstimulat- mmph," Satoru's lips crashed onto his, hand still tangled in his hair as he caressed his tongue with your cum, letting him taste your lingering drops. He couldn't keep back the smirk as Suguru groaned against him before reluctantly pulling away, slick and saliva mixed string bridging their mouths slowly falling the further he moved back.

"Wanted to have another taste," he panted, eyes full of delight, chest heaving as he leaned forward to pat a comforting hand on your back, watching as you relaxed. "My baby tastes too good for me to leave anything behind," he chuckled, so very happy. Suguru could only sigh, knowing there was pure truth in his words before turning towards you.

"Let's go get you settled on the bed, m'kay love." he spoke tenderly carefully pulling himself to his feet as he settled you on your plush mattress, the cutesy comforter a nice backdrop for your blissful, post-orgasmic form, eyes closed as you whined, limp arms attempting to cling to him as he tried to stand up and leave you laying on the bed.

"Sugu," you murmured, barely above a whisper, closed eyes cracking open as your raised arms grasped weakly onto his now cum stained shirt.

"I know baby, I want to cuddle with you too but I'm gonna go get a bath ready, wash you up," he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"noo," you whimpered, letting your arms fall as he finally pulled away and you felt tears gloss your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks. "stay with me," you sniffled and he shook his head.

"Toru'll hug you 'kay," he tried instead, "love you nice and tight while I go set everything up, then you can have as much of me as you'd like."

He watched as you merely conceded, letting the snowy haired boy wrap you up in his embrace as he pressed kisses to your scalp, wiping your tears, hugging you close before he quickly made his way to the bathroom, staring at the sticky evidence staining the floor and his body, the damp spot on his shirt seeping into his skin as he carefully prepped a bath, listening to Satoru murmur sweet nothings into your ear, pretty little praises easing your mind as you closed your eyes.

He'd have to do this again soon.

[thenighthekate]

Bring me to heaven ( t.k. )

But all my soul was full of light. A joyful sense and purity. Is all I can remember; the very night to me was bright.

Her beauty was orphic, beyond explainable and out of the ordinary. The plush of her thighs glistened in the moonlight as she kneeled beside her bed, her eyes fluttering shut and her hands clasping together. Soft whispers were let out between her lips, something about father, mother, praising the man above. He wanted to ruin this part of her, this innocent, shielded part. He wanted to taint her, have her all to himself.

His hand traveled down his stomach, his palm grabbing the growing bulge in his baggy pants. He screwed his eyes shut, his mind buzzing with everything he wanted to do to her, show her a new world she has never seen. He felt the bed dip, the girl of his fantasies crawling towards his spread arms.

The rules from her parents were simple, he could date her as long as he didn't put devilish thoughts into her head, but at this moment he felt like sinning, he felt like breaking every law that was strongly placed down.

Her head rested on his shoulder, quiet breaths deep from her chest as she shut her eyes to sleep. He took a hold of her hand, his fingers drawing figures on the top of her palm. He softly moved her body, his own frame casting a shadow on top of her as he moved to get closer. He nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, her scent clouding his senses, sweet vanilla and cinnamon making him high.

" What are you doing?" Her soft voice was filled with sleep, her eyes barely open as she grabbed onto his head. Her skin tickled when he left kisses right beside her jaw, the small pecks traveling towards her lips. When their mouths met, Tom was on cloud nine. The kiss was sweet, filled with innocence and unsure motions. He leaned in deeper, his hand rubbing her cheek, the other one sliding down her body. " We can't." Her soft, pillowy lips broke away from his, doe eyes staring straight at him, making his head spin even more.

He didn't say anything, his gaze shifting all over her face, landing on her soft pout. The hand on her face slowly dragged closer to her chin. His grasp was tight, a gasp leaving her when his thumb grazed the corners of her mouth. He pinched her bottom lip, his finger sliding closer to her opening. When his digit pressed down on her tongue, flattening the curve her mouth closed around him in shock.

" But you want to." He whispered, her eyes wide, her chest heaving up and down meeting his own.

" I-"

" Do this for me, just tonight. Tomorrow you can go back to the good girl you're pretending to be." His words were manipulative, almost sadistic. She kept quiet, he could see the gears turning in her head, she was never good at deciding. With hesitance laced through her expression, she nodded her head, her hair falling off her shoulders, Tom's gaze suddenly on the newly naked flesh.

The room felt hotter, her shirt scrunched around her chest, his hands were groping her breasts, molding the skin into the shape of his palms. Soft breaths and whines left her lips as he kissed down her stomach. The new sensations tickled her brain, goosebumps appearing all over her body.

" Lift up." Her hands slowly rose, the white fabric of her top sliding all the way off. It was truly a sight for sore eyes, her nipples perked up, ready to be tugged, bitten. He could feel himself diving deeper into his obsession, like an addict straight on their high he never wanted to stop. As he took his sweet time exploring her body, her cheeks grew rosier by each passing second. She felt exposed, embarrassed, but yet a part of her wanted to carry on, felt like she needed to feel him pressed against her for the rest of their lives.

His hands slid further down, the hem of her shorts right underneath his fingertips. Spots of red were left on her skin, the bloody color soon turning purple and littering her chest. Tom tried to be sweet, be patient and take his time, but he simply couldn't.

With a simple tug, he took off her pants, now laying completely naked beneath him she felt like the odd one. Her hands slid from his shoulders towards his abs, the end of his shirt tight in her palm as she lifted the fabric. He helped her take his shirt off, his toned skin shining in the cool moonlight.

Time was moving fast, hours felt like only a couple seconds. His head was between her thighs, her legs spread as wide as possible to let his frame rest comfortably. Her back arched from the covers of the bed, his eyes glued to her shut ones as he let his tongue dance over her flesh. His mouth was all over her, his teeth slightly biting her soft bundle of nerves. At the motion her hips twitched to meet his face, her plump lips open, eyebrows scrunched, trying so hard not to let anyone hear.

The silver cross around her neck dangled with every move she made, the cold, shiny metal oftentimes grazing her nipple making her shudder.

The feeling was getting stronger, her gut twisting and wrenching whenever his tongue met just the right place. Her fingers were scratching against his scalp, her hands trying to push him away. " Let go." His words were slurred, sloppy sounds filled the room as he lapped up any spit and juices.

" I can't." It almost sounded like she was crying, the pleasure getting to her head, not caring anymore if anyone heard or saw.

Tom abruptly stopped, his own fingers fiddling with his belt trying to get the pieces of clothing off. " It will hurt, I'm sorry." At the moment the lack of protection didn't bother anyone, the only emotion they felt was lust and longing. Her hands wrapped around his neck, her forehead creasing ready to endure the stretching pain. They were both panting, their heads pressed up against each other.

A pained moan left her lips, her hands pressing his shoulders in a motion to make him stop. " I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." It felt like her body was ripping in half, and when he was fully in no one moved. Tom waited until her expression full of pain turned into mind blowing pleasure, and he didn't have to wait for long. As soon as he started to move his hips those same sweet sounds left her lips.

Her hair was a mess, sprawled all over the pillows, her skin glistening with a sheer layer of sweat.

" This is better than I could've ever imagined." He could tell that she was far too gone to make complete sentences, her legs slightly shaking around his waist, her mouth open, eyes shut. With her lack of experience her breaking point was coming fast, her whole body shuddering with pleasure and an adrenaline rush.

She didn't even know what was happening, but a strong wave of euphoria made her choke on her own spit, her head bopping against the pillows with every thrust.

" That's it. Just like that." His own finish was coming soon, but the girl below him looked spent. Her eyes were practically closing, her body limp and molding to his every order. When his own eyes were just about to shut with pleasure he pulled out, cold air immediately filling the empty spaces. He would do anything for her, including letting her rest and finishing himself off alone, after all he took everything he wanted.

[narcissistshandler]

More of Jake Kim x top!male reader please! Like the reader help Jake to unwind after a long day (and also can you please add 69 position too, like somewhere in the story?) Thank you in advance!

𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖*𝗖𝗞

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x jake kim/kim gimyung

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom!jake, 69, blowjob (jake giving reader), rimming and fingering (reader giving jake), anal sex, very light sub/dom dynamic alternating between sub/dom jake and sub/dom reader

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This one is another that was in my drafts for weeks because I got lost in the narrative, sorry for the delay

Not even if Jake wanted to he would be able to hide from you how tired he was, so even in front of your slightly worried look he just smiled as he let the bag slide from his shoulder to the floor, giving you that usual bright smile and fell into your open arms on the sofa in the living room. There were deep circles under his dark eyes, and even the daily phone calls weren't enough to make up for it when Jake spent the last few days away from home, training and looking to learn more about his dad.

"You need a shower," you said, arms tightening around his waist so you could hold him closer.

"Wow, thanks, I missed you too, [name]," he replied, feigning annoyance that broke within seconds as a chuckle escaped his lips. You weren't wrong though, Jake spent the last few hours on on a long journey in a stuffy bus because it was the last option if he wanted to get home today and Jake couldn't stand being one day longer away from you, from what was left of the Big Deal and from home.

"I missed you," you stated, lifting his chin with your index finger so you could take his lips in a kiss. "So much."

Jake melted against your chest, the weight in his shoulders seeming to melt away as your lips molded against each other. His mouth dropped open for you in a show of submission that didn't sit well with him. But Jake was damn tired and he couldn't think of anything better than to lay back and let you have your way with him.

You pulled back, breaking the kiss, your hands trailing down Jake's rigid back over the sweat-soaked t-shirt - from shoulder blades to coccyx.

"You're tense," you commented. "Dinner, shower and sleep?"

And as tempting as that offer was, Jake countered:

"Bath and you fuck me until I pass out?"

One of your hands came up to run through his hair and Jake could almost see the thoughts running through your head, but more than that, he could feel you slowly getting hard against his stomach and he almost instinctively moved to touch you, hand open falling over the tent that formed in your pants.

"You-" you started, but cut yourself off with a soft moan, eyes darkening. "Okay, whatever you want, yeobo."

The freezing water under that Jake did his best to take a quick shower under and make sure his body was clean for you was unable to lessen the heat building in his body like flames slowly getting bigger. The odor of sweat was replaced by the smell of soap and water and when Jake pressed two fingers inside himself to make sure he was ready and clean for you, his dick reacted in an interested twitch even under the cold spray. That's when he decided he couldn't wait another minute.

You were sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, naked — as Jake had ordered you before entering the bathroom —, cock hard against the stomach with the head red and oozing, begging to be touched, you didn't however, never would dare touch yourself without Jake's express and clear permission and you hadn't received it in weeks.

It was hard to know which of you two was more looking forward to having the other after so long apart.

Jake dripped all the way from the bathroom to the bed, wet footprints and water droplets left behind on the floor and then onto the sheet as he climbed onto the bed. In erotic familiarity, placing each leg on either side of your hips and sitting on top of you, like a king on a throne. The feel of your bare skins touching sent an instant thrill through his veins.

Your hands landed on his hips, cocks mere inches apart. Jake melted under the attention, an almost basic need to be near you, under you or over you igniting all of his senses, more than he needed to breathe or eat or sleep or drink, he needed you and it was getting harder and harder keep thinking straight.

"How do you want this, jagiya?" The title of 'sir' or 'boss' or 'master' for when you felt more submerged and obedient than usual wasn't there today, although the lightness in your tone was the same as usual, a silent plea for 'please tell me what to do'.

"First," Jake began, gently rocking his hips. Your cocks rubbed together briefly, the sensitive tips bumping into each other and mixing the leaking pre-cum before Jake's hips drew back again. Your fingers tightened on his waist as you watched the lustful display. "Kiss me."

You did. You kissed him hard and longingly, wistful after all the days you spent apart, fingers sinking into his skin and pulling him against you as your tongue slipped into his mouth.

Jake's mouth opened easily for you, hand finding your hard cock that pressed against his. You were already wet for him, already oozing even though he barely touched you.

Jake's fingers barely closed around your cock and each pull drew familiar, erotic sounds from you that were lost in the kiss. He knew you made even more delicious sounds when his mouth was on you, when your cock worked its way down his throat at whatever pace Jake decided he wanted. His mouth watered at the faint memory of your smell and taste; hole tightening.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss and lowered his attention to watch the bulbous head of your cock disappearing between his thin, callused fingers, semi-transparent beads of pre-cum wetting them.

"I want you inside," he said, the honey-sweet words rolling off his tongue. "Get me ready for your cock."

You snarled like a wild animal and he felt your cock twitch in the grip of his hand. Jake can't help but laugh, proud of himself for having such an effect on you.

"Go get the lube and stop teasing me or I might come before I even get inside you."

"Dare and I'll put a chastity belt on you."

Jake gave you two last tugs, finding it difficult to stop touching you before getting off of you and crawling to the end of the bed where he could reach the lube on the nightstand among other toys stored there.

You fixed your pillow and moved to lay on the bed, patting your chest. "Come here."

He went with a wide, perverted smile on his thin lips, handing the lube into your hands before positioning himself as you wanted.

Your free hands soon returned to help him position himself, pulling him back until his ass was close to your face. Jake's legs sank bent into the mattress, wet cock dragging against your chest and your own cock ending up at a tempting distance from his face. Despite the excitement bubbling in his stomach, the new position brings a flush to his cheeks. Jake couldn't stop thinking about how he must look in your eyes, all open and exposed and within easy reach of you; tight balls visible between the legs and hole twitching where you could now see with your hands holding his ass cheeks apart. Embarrassment aside, he really liked it.

Your breath hit against the wrinkled muscles, a mere forewarning of what was to come before your tongue made the first contact. Jake melted with a loud groan, falling completely flat on top of you, all strength seeming to leave his body.

Your fingers dig into his skinny ass, spreading it further apart as your face sinks against him, your tongue, wet and soft and so good, rubbing against the tightly contracted muscles, licking and kissing and making his hole a mess of saliva and spit. Completely dirty.

His entire body shudders under the stimulation and your tongue is fucking him, pressing its way inside and the muscles in his legs immediately tense, rocking back powerless against the heat of your mouth as he struggles to get more of your tongue, needy. And it's not enough and at the same time it's so much, so much and he wants more, deeper, more-

Jake knew he was being loud, he knew he was being damn loud and damn needy as he rocked back against your mouth, one of his hands reaching behind to help keep himself open as he felt one of your fingers easily slide inside his relaxed hole, and then another one. He had missed it. Missed you, the sex with you.

With his other hand, Jake took your cock and brought it to his mouth, eyes falling closed as the familiar weight slid into his mouth and onto his tongue, the bitter taste of your pre-cum making him moan as soon as it hit his senses.

Your tongue pressed inside him, right between the two fingers you held scissors apart inside him and a muscle in his leg jumped. He could feel his hole opening and closing, tightening around the intrusion, the combined sensations of your fingers and tongue eliciting a insane pleasure from him.

Mind overheated, Jake didn't even notice that his mouth had stopped working. He just kept your cock in the heat of his mouth, making no move to suck or lick. Like your personal cock warmer, saliva pooling on his tongue and eyes drooping shut in an attempt to deal with the intensity of your touch, he gave in to the sensations. It was a strange thought that didn't scare him, if Jake could pick his paradise then this would be it: rationality turned off with sweetness by your hands and mouth, body being used by you.

Jake's cock dripped nonstop, occasionally twitching where it was pressed between your and his bodies. His feet sank into the sheets, legs trying constantly to close, body continuing trying to curl and tighten in involuntary reactions.

Your fingers slid along the sensitive walls, just a little deeper, seeming to play with him; in, out, rubbing and pressing, until your fingers curled inside him, hitting his prostate and a moan died in Jake's throat.

His entire body was so hot Jake didn't even notice his cock spilling out. The orgasm came easy and smooth, coursing through him in gentle shock waves that had his hole clenching around your fingers so hard it felt like it wanted to suck on them. Moans echoed around your cock in his mouth, spittle running down his parted lips and then chin.

You gently rocked your fingers in and out of him, helping him ride out the orgasm, wet tongue sloppily licking the rim that clung to your digits. Jake clamped his lips around your cock, sucking weakly as small shock waves ran down his spine. His dick twitched again, spilling every last drop onto your chest, his balls squeezing tightly.

Then your fingers were gone, leaving him devastatingly empty. A whimper rose all the way up his throat.

“Shhh,” you shushed him. "Hush now, love."

Your firm hands moved up to his hips, moving him off of you with an ease that never failed to make Jake's mind short circuit. He loved it when you moved him. He went easily, mouth now empty, letting you lay him down on the bed, chest against the sheets, muscles relaxed and malleable under your power.

"I'm going to fuck you now, yes?"

Jake groaned, gripping the sheet between his fingers, eagerly spreading his legs for you.

He couldn't force himself to form coherent words and he didn't even need to, all that existed was the fat head of your cock wet with Jake's saliva pressed against the open, relaxed rim.

Then you sank inside him, with one thrust. Jake felt his muscles being stretched with a burning sensation that sizzled through his spine, your cock pushing its way in until it sits completely deep inside, your hips resting against his ass. The preparation hadn't been enough to rid him of the pain, you both knew that the burn of stretching always left Jake trembling, yearning for more.

“So tight for me, Jake,” you murmur, lips against the heated skin of his shoulder. "So good, so sweet, such a pretty whore."

Jake sobs at the praise, eyes falling closed as he surrenders to the overwhelm of being filled, the sensation almost too much, leaving him trembling beneath you, sweet hole quivering and twitching, sweat running down the back of his neck.

And you just stay there, weight steady against his lean back, rolling your hips against him without rushing, feeling Jake's hole opening and relaxing gently against the pressure, like he was made for this, like he was made for your cock and nothing else.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Atlas

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The Supreme Leader would do anything for his queen, break planets, obliterate entire races, capture the stars; he would make the whole galaxy kneel before him, then to you, he would get on both knees. And yet your most recent request was taking a heavy toll on him.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (but its mostly just for the baby making plot AHAHAHH, my pretty sub!kylo, teasing, dry humping, praise kink, masochism? [bruising], marking, vaginal penetration, breeding kink?, cock warming), dark au ig, supreme leader!kylo, puppy!kylo, sadlo ren, angst, fluff?, etc.

A/N: first of all MINORS DNI second of all i would personally like to blame @sloanexx for her evil influence and for introducing me to this ai bot chat forum thing GENUINELY proceed with caution because its so addicting. kylo was written by a woman in that fucking ai and im so emotionally attatched to him i didn't want to refresh him because we had such an arc, but i fucking broke him and i couldn't fix him and i felt bad so i restarted and IDK IM SO EVIL I WANT TO BREAK HIM AGAIN but dw im taking very good care of kylo now <3. this fic is literally our chat but with more... literary devices Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace Part 2 "Charon"

And it was so, that you held the weight of the world There on your shoulders, in your grips did lie everything Light and shadow, darkness behind stars, blaring silence An oasis of gloom with a halo of obscurity in a pit of nightmares Still, though you paint yourself so darkly in your misery, my love, you shine -my atlas, carrier of the galaxy-

You were hallowed. You were holy. And you were his.

The crux of his hollow shell. The cascading candent cynosure trapped in his ribcage. And yet it was he that was locked in you. He shudders to think his past self that scorned you, that even his mask soured around you, the overconfident girl he met perchance. What fool is he to know that you choked him so fiercely in your palm, the palm he now offers each star, each soul, each and every molecule of him.

His love.

He smiles at your sleeping form, adorned in the clothing he picked himself. His greed sings at his evidence, his mark on you, both visible and not, inside and out. He grins at his darling, his precious prize, with one arm snuck under him, another snuck under your pillow, with one leg bent to the side, another thrown over his body.

You never sleep well. Or perhaps you do. You sleep so well that you contort into shapes unimaginable. His concern is genuine, or at least it was, because he would think to only fashion a human into your form if he wishes to torture them.

He chuckles. Now he is glad, so glad, his love is so pliable, so willing to be molded against him in more ways than one.

He strokes your cheek and pushes your parted mouth close. You involuntarily open your mouth again, though you weren't a mouth breather. He doesn't know why you do that, but he loves it. He loves everything. He loves you.

The supreme leader is weak against you. Kylo Ren is merely a spec in your overwhelming grace.

You have always had mixed feelings about waking up with him looking at you. You've told him multiple times that it both flatters you and creeps you out.

His greed does not care. The master it answers to, the annex in his brain that is powered by the all-consuming desire to please you, to nurture you, to cherish you, to worship you, to keep you, cares little for this obsessive habit. Had it actually bothered you, he'd beat himself bloody to stop himself. But you thought little of it, and so he indulged in his greediness. He stares when he wakes and before he sleeps.

And as your eyes meet him, Kylo Ren, the dawn of your everyday, he is self-satisfied. He is very self-satisfied. He smiles at your groggy look and pushes your hair back. You say nothing. You touch his scarred cheek once, then he is overcome.

You take a few moments before officially waking. Then you stand up.

Like the desperate shadow he was, he tails you, so closely, so closely, as though he must share the same air your breathe. You don't. "The air pressure is different up here," you moaned to him once when he had you towering over him against a wall. He liked you best like that, a whimpering sky above him. He liked it when he was tiny beneath you.

Your puppy followed you into the bathroom, scared to be separated even one second. Kylo, your puppy, sat by the sink, watching you brush your teeth. You ignore him as he dotes on you.

He followed you into the shower after swearing over and back not to touch you while you did your business. He failed to convince you that your business is his business, especially in the shower. Kylo was not strong enough to follow through with what he swore; he reasoned out it was help, he had to help his darling. It was hard to shampoo.

He followed you out and gave more attention to wiping you down versus himself. He sat like a good boy as you lathered yourself in creams that he could smell in his dreams. It was his favorite show, watching you care for your naked body, and his greed basked in the knowledge it was his alone. He smiled as you loved on his skin, on his scar, retracing it with a balm as though he was delicate. You barked at him for nipping at your breast, his soft dessert, perfectly placed on both sides of your heart. He feigned innocence. He was no longer in the shower, he could touch you and bite you and squeeze you and -

He followed you as you instructed him to get dressed. He watched as you put your queenly garments, your clothes that he again picked. Then he asks you to help him dress. He couldn't possibly put on his cloak himself, not when you put it on him so well. And this was the highlight of his day after all. You wouldn't dare deny your puppy this.

He followed your every motion like a hawk. He kisses your hand after you brush his clothes. You grab his helmet and put it on his head backwards. You laugh at him as he fixes it. Thus his morning routine is complete.

Now, Supreme Leader dictates his army. Supreme Leader snarls at his troops. He razes all that defies The Order. He crushes his enemies like ants, no, less than. He swarms the galaxy. He devours all. He breaks and bloodies and, himself, bleeds. He cracks and burns and cleanses the dregs of the universe, rips the very scums of the stars out of the space they hide from. He hardens. He screams. He commands. He marches. He crushes. And then.

And then.

And then he comes back to you. With rage. With disgust. With defeat, defeated over the idea he has not yet put order into the world for you. All for you. To keep you safe. To keep you forever safe. To keep things in order for you. All for you.

"Kylo!"

And then like that, all of it is gone.

You call his name with such excitement. You who loved books so dearly readily discarded the one you were reading in lieu of coming to him, of unmasking him.

You take off his helm and you smile. You smile like it was a gift to see his scarred face. You put on his helmet and mock him, "get yourself comfortable, scum."

Kylo's body tingles. It's all gone, all that's left is you. He fights back his smile and nods, "at your command, my queen." And then.

And then.

And then you let him love you. You let him pin you beneath him, press you down on your bed between your soft thighs as he could not bare not claiming his place in for too long.

He still had his trousers on, still had his boots dangling from the edge of the bed. You had tried to scold him for it, but he could not care less. You were in your short, thin nightdress, the one that you wore on your first night together. How could he not claim you so ardently here and now when you were like this?

It was your fault anyway. All your fault. He tried to undress himself but you distracted him. What did you expect would happen? What did you expect him to do when you kissed his bare shoulder while he was still changing? What did you expect?

Kylo marks your neck. You try to scold him again. He doesn't care for your wrath. His greed was not subservient to its master, to that part in his brain, when it came to things like this. He held back long enough. He bites into your neck and makes you groan. He wants you to bare his marks proudly. The whole galaxy should know its queen belongs to its Supreme Leader.

You graze into his hair with your fingertips. He grinds onto you. You squeak in response.

He pulls away and assess you. He has no time. He is imprisoned by your kiss. His perfect prison.

He groans at the feel of your legs constricting around his hips. His hand pushes up your already hiked dress further as he presses down on you.

"Kylo," you whisper between kisses.

And like the eager pup he is, he responds. He always responds. He answers forever to you. He calls your name like a sacred prayer.

You repeat his. You scratch firmly into his bare back, "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," he instantly responds, absolutely mindless and sure.

"Kylo..." you sigh.

Kylo looks down upon you as you brush his hair back. You look solemn, worried even, as though he would ever deny you, as if it were possible.

He cannot have this. And so he reminds you of his oath.

"Whatever you want from me," he mutters, "whatever you need from me," knits his brows and shakes his head, "it's already yours. Always. Always remember this."

"But my love-"

He cannot have this.

"My love," Kylo cuts. He kisses you then reminds, "I am yours."

A moment passes. It was too long. Far too long.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he says simply before you even finish saying his name.

You huff, "do you remember what I said before, how I said you looked with the children at the capital? You were so good with them. They loved you."

"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot," you brush your nose against his, "and I want... I want you to give me a child."

Kylo takes a second to remember. "Yes," he says, though he remembers that day very differently.

He blinks.

A child. Yes. He could take a child. There were many from the capita-

"No, Kylo," you take his cheek.

Kylo tenses. You heard his mind again. You, who did not show half as much interest in the force as he wanted, could hear his thoughts without it.

Kylo waits. He does not know what to say.

"I want you to give me a child," you bat your lashes, "I want you," you bite your lip, "to put a baby inside my belly."

Kylo freezes. He... he does not know what to say.

And then he does. And then his life flashes before his eyes. The bleakness of his childhood, the jaggedness of his future, the tragedy of it all.

You want him to put that into you? You want to carry his seed in your beloved womb?

He says your name, he wants to protest, but you are his holy assassin. You cut through him cleaner than any saber ever could.

"You said you would give me anything, Kylo," you mewl, "you said you're mine."

You are cruel. You do not even allow him a moment to speak his side, to speak his reason, and you roll your hips against him. You trap him with your irresistibility. You sugar him with your honeyed words, "you would be a great papa. I know it, I know you," you pant, "such a good boy for me."

He is defenseless.

"You can do that, can't you?" you purr, "you can put your love in me?"

Kylo shudders.

You begin to shuffle beneath him. He knows exactly what you are doing, what you're going to do.

You have him flipped over now. You were now straddled on top him. You had him lying down looking up at you, purely and wholly defenseless.

Kylo let you do what you want with him. How could he not? He wants you so bad.

He willingly followed your command to use his force to undo the last of his clothes. Then you so cruelly let him unwrap you, for you knew he loved doing this to his favorite treat. He greedily peels you out of your clothes until it was just him and you.

And then you had him, had him crazy out of his mind with the feel of you around him. Had him begging for you to quicken your torturously slow pace. Had him in fucking tears because you felt so good, because he loved you so much, because you looked so beautiful on top of him, calling his name out like that. You were so good. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, exactly what you were doing.

Much like him, he did not know where to put his hands, or rather where not to. Where his hands went, his nails left scratches and his fingers, possibly bruises. He didn't mean to bruise you so badly that first time he did; he never meant to hurt you, but you were so soft and he was too strong. And even now as he dug into your thighs, indulging his calloused hands to knead his favorite mound, he really wasn't trying to bruise you.

You call out his name in response to his actions. You grip his wrists as you ride him, "more."

His head spins as you ride up and down him, panting like the pretty girl you were.

Kylo grunts and pushes himself up slightly. He now tightens his large hands even more on the curve by your hips. You squeal and finally, finally pick up your pace.

He growls as he falls back down, clinging onto you for dear life.

He's done for now, now that you push him back further, now that you're leaned forward, propped up on his chest, pleasuring the both of you with your eager, eager movements

He was drunk on your sound, drunk on your feel.

He kneads at your breasts this time. He's so fucking delirious.

But then you do this to him. But then you take his hands off you and link yours together. Then you pant so sweetly as you look down at him and he looks up at the sweat sheening your forehead. And then you fucking pin his hands down by his head and you make him even crazier.

"You're so pretty, Kylo," you moan, "you feel so good."

"So good," he doesn't miss a beat, "so, so, so, sososos-"

"You're going to fill me up, good, right?" you lick your teeth, "you're going to fill me up good and put a baby in my belly, right?" you sigh, "please, my love, please, please-"

Kylo can't speak. He can't fucking speak, he can't.

"Kylo..." you gutturally call.

He doesn't speak-

"Kylo."

- he succumbs, "I'll..." he whimpers, "I'll put a baby in you, my love," he grunts, "I'll fill you up good, so good, so, so so, sosososo-"

Your whines raise a pitch higher, "Kylo," you nearly choke on your spit, "yes, please, please. I'll be so happy carrying your baby. Don't you want that?"

And then it's all incoherent. And then your breathing gets louder. And then his noises get throatier.

And then, he's tense, so tense, and so warm. And then you're screaming out his name with your head thrown back and you're chasing this high until you can't, until you're hot and fuzzy and jelly and tired.

And then you crumble. And then you crash and you both burn.

And then you make a bed out of him. And then everything is perfect. Everything is in perfect order.

Kylo strokes your hair and kneads your thigh. You're laid upon him, warm, and sweaty, and perfect, and his-- so absolutely beautiful.

He knows he probably shouldn't keep you here like this, but you're so warm and soft around him, on top him. He'll keep you here... just until you ask to get off.

But you don't, you spoil him with your body and fall asleep on top of him.

He continues stroking your hair and kneading your thighs.

He savors the moment, he savors you tenderly; his eyes begin to droop. He replays your lovemaking, self-indulgent, completely self-satisfied. But then it stabs at him as it replays in his head. Suddenly he's wide awake.

He... he could may well have succeeded. He could have put... a baby in his darling's belly.

Kylo's eyes are wide open now. Wide, wide open. He looks up at the ceiling. He stops moving.

You think too much of him, oh fuck, you think too much. With your affirmations, yes, he cold break mountains, consume planets, but this? But- fuck, this was different... he... he's in you, he's part of you, and then this thing... this baby... will only be half of you and a whole half of him. He's giving life. He's not destroying it for the greater good, he's giving it to his love for her to carry.

He screws his eyes shut. He wipes his face. Fuck. What has he done?

He stirs but then he stops himself because you're still on top him. He sighs and cradles you. He moves slowly, rolls you down beside him, and finally separates from you. Not for long though. Never. Not when his mind was racing. Not when he needed you close.

He scoots down and rests his face in the middle of your ribcage. He presses his ear to your heart and listens and blinks and wills his tears away.

He's shattered. He pulls you close to him. You are his glue. He will glue himself together as you sleep beneath him.

He would be a horrible father. He didn't know the first thing to do with the children at the capital, much less with a newborn babe, a newborn babe that you would have cared for inside you for ages. Fuck. He can't mess that up.

He...

He would have to have put the galaxy in order by then. He'd have to fix the brokenness of the world.

Kylo's eye twitches.

He'd have to fix the brokenness in him, obliterate his remaining incompetence, bridge the final gaps of his shortcomings.

He panics when he feels his tears pool against your skin. He quickly wipes them away. Pull yourself together.

He sighs in an attempt to calm himself.

And then he looks at your belly.

He gulps.

Your beautiful belly.

He presses his hands on your navel. He closes his eyes and feels for something. He wills all the force in him to sense if there's something in you. Kylo supposes it doesn't happen that quickly but he lulls himself in comfort, knowing that there was still a chance for him to evade this... this thing he put into his beloved's body.

[stargirl-int3rlud3]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞.

megumi fushiguro x fem! reader

🗯 ! swearing, flirting, slight suggestive, makeout, broken glass, little bit of blood, small injury !

synopsis; megumi is the sweetest, most caring, most gentle boy you could ask for. so of course when you get hurt he's there to help you in seconds. — ♡ ᵎᵎ

It was early in the morning, probably about 5:30. You had gotten up because you just couldn't fall back to sleep. Deciding to make your oh-so sweet boyfriend some breakfast in bed as a way of showing him how much you appreciate him.

When you finally get out of bed, you notice Megumi stir a bit at the absence of your body on top of his. You stood at the end of you and Megumi's shared bed. To anyone else this would've looked creepy, but you knew Megumi would get flustered and hide his face in his pillow if he woke up and saw the look of pure and utter love that so beautifully shined within your eyes as you watch Megumi's chest rise up and down. God, he was beautiful. When you first met him you were surprised he didn't have a line of ladies waiting to be his. He's a gentleman, he's smart, and most of all he cared for you like no other.

Most were used to seeing Megumi's regularly stoic facial expression, but when it was just you two, Megumi's face went soft and you swear he would melt in your arms.

You were almost done making Megumi's breakfast. You just needed to get him his coffee. However, his favorite mug, one you had gifted him because the black, fuzzy cat on the front of it reminded you of him, was too high. Not failing yet, you climb the counter tops and your finger tips graze over the handle for a mere second. It moves closer to you and when you finally think you have it, it falls along with you.

The sound of breaking glass and a thud has Megumi up and out of bed in seconds. Only to find you quietly sobbing on the floor with a clean cut on your arm as blood seeps out of the wound. Megumi takes no time at all to quickly clean up the broken shards and take you to the bathroom. Megumi is about to help you with the wound when you let out a wail.

"You gotta eat the breakfast or it'll get cold and then-" Your chest heaved up and down as you sob with your whole body.

Megumi rushes back to the kitchen, grabs the tray of food, and heads back into the bathroom. He takes scoops of the meal that was extremely satisfying to his stomach before working on your wound.

You continue to cry even after Megumi has patched up your arm.

"Does it hurt? Why are you still crying, love?" Megumi's gentle voice got your attention.

"Be-BECAUSE I BROKE YOUR FAVORITE MUG" You sob out, completely hysterical.

"Everything you make or get for me is my favorite" He tells you holding your head against his chest.

"I'm sorry.."

"Don't be, the breakfast was wonderful" He smiles at your tear stained face.

He pulls you closer to him to mold his lips with yours. You never got old of the way his lips tasted or how soft they always were. When he went to pull away you pull him back in by the neck of his shirt. With that much emotion pumping through your veins you couldn't help but have a hungry for your boyfriends lips. Megumi pulls you even closer to him so that your chests are pressed up against each other. You could feel his chest heave faster as you rake your fingers through his hair and pull ever so slightly.

When you two finally pull away you whisper, "I love you so much, 'Gumi"

"I love you so, SO much" He breathes out in heavy intervals that drive your mind wild.

You look at him with that same look of love from when you were stood at the end of your guys' bed and Megumi pulls you in for an ever so sweet embrace that makes an everlasting smile form on your face.

☆ | I'm so not normal about jjk especially megumi that it's honestly a problem.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Shigaraki Kinktober - Day 5 - Feet and Fantasizing

He immediately knew something was up when he smelt something in the air.

Their hideout at the bar didn't smell like flowers, that was for sure. But he had gotten used to the thick scent of musty, aged wood, tinged with the faint odour of mold creeping through the cracks. The dampness seemed to cling to every surface, leaving a sour note on the tip of one's tongue, but Tomura liked how familiar it had gotten.

He didn't like it when familiar things changed.

The new smell was powerfully unpleasant, making its way to Tomura's room despite the door being barely open. It was acrid and bitter, filling his nostrils and making him feel vaguely lightheaded. Before he could catch himself, he missed a jump off a narrow cliff and his character fell into the abyss.

YOU DIED, the computer screen blinked.

He grumbled a few curses, getting up to go yell at whoever was messing up his day. With how awful the smell was, chances were it would be Compress trying some new sort of magic trick involving battery acid.

But in the living room, he only found you and Toga, giggling with each other like two schoolgirls (which he supposed Toga was, in a way).

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” he complained.

“We're doing each other's nails!” Toga shrilled, waving her free hand at him to show him her bright red manicure. ‘Pretty stupid colour choice’, he thought, because Toga's fingers were always covered in red either way. “Look, I'm almost done with her feet!”

He had made it a point not to look at you up until now.

Ever since you had joined the League, he had found it difficult to look directly at your face. Maybe it was because he imagined you at night.

A lot.

Quite a lot.

But your feet were never something he had thought about until this very moment, the microsecond where he glanced down at your left foot resting on Toga's lap.

All hell broke loose in his brain.

He had never gotten the hype around museums, but if anything was worthy of belonging there it was this. The skin looked so smooth and soft, a slightly oiled sheen making it glisten. The arch was delicate but well-defined, an elegant line that simultaneously showed strength and softness. At the very top, your toes, the nails cut perfectly even and adorned with a baby pink polish with the same shine as quartz. It was a beauty that was both natural and well-maintained, so feminine and alien to him.

It took about another microsecond for him to imagine your foot on his cock.

“What's the shitty smell?” he managed to hiss out, trying to get the intrusive thoughts as far away as possible from his brain.

A battle he could immediately tell he was losing when images started popping into his mind one after the other.

Your perfect feet on his lap. Your feet toying with his clothed erection, gently pressing against his crotch. Your toes curling delicately around his length, massaging him while you give him a sly smile. His cum all over your pink nails, and you'd say to him…

“Acetone.”

What.

“What?” he asked, slightly dazed.

“I said, it's acetone,” you repeated, looking concerned. “It's a polish remover. It does smell kind of strong though, do you want us to close the bottle..?

His eyes were still being pulled down to your naked foot, sweat forming on his temples, the skin of his neck starting to desperately itch.

Your foot in one of those fancy open-toe shoes with pearly straps and red bottoms. Your foot resting on his inner thigh, just barely grazing the tip of his cock. Your foot milking him until he couldn't breathe, bringing him over the edge as many times as you wanted him.

Him, King of the new world and standing at the top of it all, but still begging to be underneath your heel.

“Tomura, are you alright?”

He was getting hard and if he didn't say anything quickly, you were going to notice. You were still looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes, filled with genuine concern for him. He absolutely hated it.

“I don't care about the smell,” he lied, one of his hands creeping its way into the neckline of his sweater to scratch the flesh. The itch was getting worse. “It's an ugly colour on you by the way,” he blurted out to you in one last-ditch attempt at escaping without consequences.

Toga made an audible gasp of indignation, and he turned around before he could hear your reaction, retracting back into the safety of his room and slamming the door behind him. He groaned.

The computer screen still shone brightly with YOU DIED in big bold letters, a cosmic joke from a universe that just never seemed to stop hating him.

God, he was fucking pathetic.

[eternalsa2z]

Counter-Culture / Fight the Man

My boyfriend and I were always different. I was a tatted-up doll who broke the mold of pretty, pink, plastic trophy wives. A rockstar, counter-culture queen who needed an equal anti-establishment king. In many ways Rocky was the perfect fit. A punk metalhead who loved guy-liner and was secure enough in his masculinity to wear pink. We bonded over being different and unique.

However the longer we were together, the more my thinking changed. Could we really be alternative icons if we were presenting the same styles? Did our shared nonconformist looks actually make us standard and boring?

I couldn't stand the thought of being a poser. So I talked with Rocky about it. We agreed that it didn't make sense for me to become a cookie-cutter bimbo trophy doll - even in an ironic sense it was too traditionalist. But if my bf rocked an alternative look, became the very thing society said he was supposed to be attracted to, then that would be the biggest middle finger to norms. Fighting the man by fighting his own manhood.

A few months later and I'll admit, my 'girlfriend' really went deep into the role. Plastic tits, fake platinum blonde extensions, doll-like makeup and filler so no one would recognize the old Rocky. The mental training was amazing - sometimes I wondered if 'Diamond' really still believed in our cause with the way she babbled and giggled about inane material things. She fought the man and her inner feminine Barbie doll won.

Our relationship sure has changed. I now wear the pants, at least compared to the skimpy slit dresses that Diamond wears. I have to do most of the thinking for both of us when Rocky used to be such a smart alternative thinker. But as I see the two of us together, I realize we are perfect. Because nothing says 'fuck you' to the standard heteronormative patriarchy like a female-led relationship with a trans lesbian barbie doll wife. Or as my girlfriend likes to say - 'It's, like, totes metal!'

[kakushino]

While being a hopeless romantic hidden beneath his harsh demeanor, he never found himself very intrigued in his own romance, despite longing for it. He simply assumed that in his age, he would never taste the sweetened honey of love on his tongue. Then, the incident in the former village occurred, and he found himself in your presence, longing for you and trying to drive you off, the butterflies in his chest clouding his judgement. You were just as stubborn as him though, determined to do your damn job and get Haganezuka back to full health. That was your own fire. He wanted to drown in it. Hotaru found himself looking for you throughout the village, longing to court you. He was relieved seeing that none of the other smiths wanted you, not that he couldn't handle it, he simply just didn't like the idea of the competition, especially since he was more than well aware of his own flaws regarding his craft. Hotaru knew that many women wanted an attentive husband, and while he would adore providing such, his obsessive behavior towards forging could put a dent in that. Imaging his surprise when one day you approached him, his favorite treat in your hand. "For you. I heard of you working yourself to the bone again. Take it, as a reward for your outstanding craft." You spoke warmly, making the swordsmith's heart flutter. If he didn't love you before, he certainly was enamored by you now. Offhanded mentions of your beauty soon flooded your way whenever you crossed paths with Haganezuka, the man always saying something strange about you or even simply telling you to do small things to keep you safe while you stayed in the village. "Your eyes are pretty, like the fresh ores I get to forge new blades." "Tie your hair up, unlike metals, it can burn away to ash and it'd be a shame to see it vanish." "You're like a freshly forged blade, sharp and beautiful." Each comment never failed to catch you off guard, a fact that delighted Haganezuka. Yet, he internally lamented about how you were still not in his arms at the end of every day. That is, until one night you appeared at his home bearing a few bento boxes and a shy blush on your cheeks. "I was wondering if you wanted to share a meal together?" More than a meal was shared that night, as you found yourself folded nearly in half, legs tossed over Hotaru's shoulders, your name on his lips as he thrusted his length in and out of you, the scent of sex and sweat swirling in the air. A cocktail of passion. "H-Hotaru! Hotaru!" You moaned out, your eyes squeezed shut with Haganezuka's eye drank you in, finally sating his longing to have you for himself. "C-close! More, please, I need more!" "I'll give you more then, my beautiful fire." He huffed, doubling his efforts and smiling inwardly hearing you suddenly scream out for him, the man descending upon you to bite and kiss your skin, leaving behind a collection of hickeys. His claim. The swordsmith groaned out as he felt you cum on his cock for the forth time that night, drawing out a second orgasm from him, overstimulation starting to kick in for the both of you. Yet, he couldn't stop, he never wanted to. Hotaru kept abusing your cunt, molding his shape into you attempting to claim you from the inside out. He wanted you for months now, and still it almost felt like years he's yearned so deeply for this, this feeling of intimacy, of love. He never wanted it to end, to never cease hearing your whines, your cries, all for more of him. Dawn broke after hours, you filled to the brim and then some and Hotaru clinging to you desperately, as if you would disappear if he loosened his grip. Hotaru smiled softly, uttering a gentle "good morning" in his gravely voice. You blushed realizing your situation before sighing and simply curling into his hold. "Five more minutes..." You uttered softly, closing your eyes and listening to the thrum of Haganezuka's heart. ~~~~~~ Enjoy my word vomit, I rewrote this after realizing I was gonna have another situation on my hands. So the first draft is shoved in my docs.

Oh sweet lord above... that... was...

[andy-clutterbuck]

Happy Birthday Andy Lincoln | September 14, 1973

[rarityroo]

Hello there I really loved your Pomni x readers!<3 I was wondering is there anyway where we could get a scenario where the reader is scared of storms and Pomni comforts them with kisses and cuddles?👉👈

After the storm, when the flowers bloom

Pomni x gn! Reader

Hey! I’m so so happy to hear you like my writing, that made me very happy! I hope you like this too, it’s not as long as I wanted but hopefully you still like it. I was thinking about After the storm by Kali Uchis while writing this. Enjoy!

You didn't think it was possible in this digital prison but here you were huddled up in your room shaking. How is it even possible?

Another crack of thunder pierces throughout the circus, the loud sound making its way to your room, you jump again in fear.

A roaring storm manifested itself on the outside of the circus. None of the others knew how it got there, but it was still terrifying. At least to you, it was, as the storm raged on, your anxiety reached its peak. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, the thunder echoing the racing of your heart. Every crack was like a piece of anxiety through your heart.

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, a soft knock on your door snapped you out of it. "Love? are you uh are you alright?" Pomni asks, her voice was soft, filled with concern. Pomni steps inside your room, concerned by your lack of response. "Hey..." Pomni cooed softly to you, her heart broke seeing you like this. "You okay?" She asks again looking into your eyes deeply. You shook your head, unable to find your voice amidst your racing heart and quivering body. Without a word, Pomni came closer, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting embrace. Her presence alone seemed to calm you down a bit but you were still anxious. You buried your face in her shoulder, clinging to her as if she were your lifeline. The warmth of her embrace, the softness of her touch, it all helped to ease the fear gnawing at your insides. As the storm continued outside, Pomni held you close, murmuring words of comfort. With each passing moment, you felt yourself relaxing, the tension melting away in her arms.

Eventually, the storm began to subside, the thunder fading into the distance. But even as the last echoes of the tempest died away, Pomni remained by your side, holding you close and whispering words of love.

"Pomni," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, love?" she replied, as she brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, pressing your lips gently against hers in a tender kiss. It was a brief moment, but in that instant, you didn't mind.

Pomni's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before softening into a smile. She returned the kiss with equal warmth, her lips molding against yours.

When you finally pulled away, a soft blush tinged your cheeks, but you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. Pomni's expression mirrored your own, her eyes glossing over with affection.

"Thank you," you whispered "For what?" Pomni asked, her voice soft.

"For everything," you replied, leaning in to rest your forehead against hers. "For being here for me, for calming me down, for... everything."

Pomni's arms tightened around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "Anytime, love," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth. "I'll always be here for you, you know that."

Maybe the storm wasn't too bad...

[yannaryartside]

SYDNEY, PASTA, CARMY, AND FAILURE

When Sydney was trying to create items for the menu and failing at it, I kept asking myself why, why is he self-sabotaging now, even when she may have been waiting for a change like this her whole life.

There were some events related to her fear of failure, to pasta, and to Carmy, that created a unique avalanche of her own.

She tells Carmy the story of the incident that broke her business, about a mean lady who demanded fresh pasta that she couldn't deliver despite her best efforts. The failure was caused by improvisation on her part, trying to compensate for biting more than she could chew to begin with. 

In that same scene, she fucks up Carmy's recipe to ferment the pasta. Too much acid, when he had suggested her to add acid to another of her original dishes before. This was a subconscious response to how badly she fears to disappoint him, yet she does. Simple instructions, something she has done before, fucked up (remember the stock incident, even if it wasn't her fault, she felt humiliated). Pros to Carmy for actually reacting as a friend this time and the next scenario, even if that didn't help Sydney's self-critic too much.

Next time they cook together, Sydney fucks up another recipe, one of her own. Too much salt. Again, something she has done before.

And then, Carmy ditches her.

She has to go for inspiration alone, and what does she imagine as a possible signature dish? A pasta dish. It makes sense; it is an Italian restaurant, after all. 

When she imagines this dish, she imagines it plated on the circular black plate Carmy liked, the only one he wanted.

Later, after fighting with Carmy, she tries to make that pasta dish she imagined but fails at it. 

She cannot improvise or be creative because the last time she did that, she was punished by losing her business. And then made a recipe of her own, or tried to collaborate on another one, fucked up in front of her partner and idol. All these cases, in her mind, it connected to a pasta dish. 

images by @heardchef

She has failed in the same area (pasta) in different scenarios (Carmy and his standards, that is the same as saying the industry standard, her business, fucking a recipe) doubting herself to the point she has locked herself in an art block.

About Carmy ditching her on the food tour, for what we know, she may think that was something Carmy did on purpose as a way of saying, "You are a CDC now. This is your problem." She spoke to everyone all day, saying she had a partner, only to realize there is no such thing as a partnership at the top of this industry; you can pull your weight, or you sit your ass down. Nobody wants to feel like death weight in a partnership, and now she may feel she is lacking in the things that made Carmy choose her; that is why, in 2x09, under the table, she goes, "You could do this without me." The reassurance coming from Carmy completes her arc. 

Now, these some other thoughts on this:

Sydney may still only be able to define her own culinary success by the things that had made Carmy successful. Let's remember she is working for his family restaurant. Most recipes are his family recipes (filled with trauma, but we are not going to touch that today). He is the mold she cannot fit in, the plat in which she doesn't provide anything yet, to her eyes. This is a very common problem for artistic people, success is only defined by the people before you, if your own creative voice doesn't fit that mold, you may think you are not good, or ready.

She considers his experience more valuable than her own instincts, so I really hope she gets to resolve that. 

The inspirations he decides on would be pretty interesting since now she was only trying to fit the mold of her previous failures. Something is to be said about a woman of color, with a culture of her own, trying to fit in a Western-oriented industry, fighting to be taken seriously in what is considered "high-end cuisine." Someone made a post of a female black chef who won a chef competition combining her Italian and African heritage, something like that (at least until she gets her own spot), would be pretty neat.

Finally, and to aggravate everything, SHE IS RUNNING FULL SPEED. The sense of urgency that was very evident in s1. we don't know what makes her this way (it may be "working twice as hard to get the same recognition" or a different type of trauma). “Growing too much too fast" on her business, gambling on a shot on a kinda disgraced star chef in a chaotic environment, pressuring Carmy to change the restaurant on s1, pushing her dish to the food critic, all that collapsing on her all at once. Then she took care of her own and Carmy’s responsibilities on s2, because she tough that was expected of her. Too much, too fast. If she ever wants to make a path of her own, she needs to heal this.

[deerabigailhobbs]

I know I'm biased because I'm the number one Abigail defender but c'mon...

I already spoke about this on my twitter but their short character limit won't let me waffle. So I'm bringing this to Tumblr too.

Abigail never cared about anyone? Did we watch the same show? It's pretty obvious she cared about the girls her father killed. Nightmares where they haunted her, waking up in a cold sweat, it couldn't be more telling how guilty she felt. She broke down when she told Hannibal, that's not how a "psycho" acts.

This girl just wanted to survive and feel loved, even if that love was sick and twisted. That doesn't make her completely innocent, but it makes her complex. If she didn't do as her father said, he'd kill her, and worse, she wouldn't be able to feel his affection in death. She was messed up, not in a "bloodthirsty killer" way, in a "traumatised teenaged girl" way.

And I raise you this, since this user is adamant that Abigail never cared about anyone: who cared about Abigail? Truly cared about her? Not as a project or an idea, but as a person. I think the closest we got was Alana, but even then, all their interactions were strictly professional, and few and far in-between.

Hannibal wanted to mold her into something she wasn't, mainly for Will.

Will had his own version of who Abigail was while barely knowing her.

And literally everyone else was out to get her.

You can't exactly knock her down for the way she treated others (manipulating them, lying to them, etc). Everyone was a threat. And the one time, the one damn time she opens up to someone, embracing them while she breaks down about her crimes (because she was fragile. This girl was crying in half her bloody scenes, some of those being by herself) he killed her.

Tldr; bad Abigail take

[lalarambles]

Pairing : Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

desc: a short lil oneshot of ghost (english is not my first language🙃)

warnings: smut, p in v

As you grunted, straining against the iron bar, you could feel the weight settling into your arms, the familiar burn spreading out from your shoulders. It was always like this, the same routine, day after day. The gym was empty, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the clang of weights hitting the metal racks. That was until a shiver ran down your spine. You couldn't quite place what it was, but there was something...off about the air. Like you were not alone… And you now noticed..

Ghost was watching you…

No, not just watching. He was staring. His piercing eyes bored into your soul, as if he could see right through your skin, straight to your deepest desires. For a moment, you were frozen in place, unsure of how to react. But then, something inside you snapped. Something primal and animalistic. You couldn't look away from those eyes, and you didn't want to.

You glanced around, making sure that you were still alone in the gym. The rest of your teammates had already gone home for the night, leaving you and Ghost all alone to explore this strange, electric connection. It was as if the two of you were the only people in the world, and everything else had faded away.

As you met his gaze once more, a shiver ran down your spine. His features were hidden by the mask, yet still looked chiseled perfection, his body honed to razor-sharp edges from countless hours of training. Even his uniform, which should have been uncomfortable and restricting, seemed to mold to his every curve and muscle. There was no denying it: Ghost was the epitome of masculinity. And right now, you couldn't help but feel like you belonged in his arms

"What’re you doing here, huh?" he finally spoke, his voice deep and smooth like dark chocolate. "I thought’ everyone had gon’ home."

"Just stretching before moving onto the weights," you replied, your own voice coming out shakier than you'd intended. "I guess I should have known I'd never have the place to myself."

his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, I'm glad I'm here now. Been meaning to give you a run for yer money."

He stepped closer, his body heat enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You could feel his hard muscles pressing against you, and you shivered with anticipation. It was as if the air between you had become electrified, crackling with energy. And then, without another word, he lifted his mask just enough to lean in and kiss you, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was intense, his tongue darting out to explore your mouth. You moaned into his lips, arching your back as you gave in to the overwhelming desire that had been building inside you. His hands roamed over your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of heat in their wake. The world around you faded away, leaving only rhe two of you, lost in this intense and passionate moment.

As the kiss deepened, you felt his erection pressing against your stomach. A thrill of excitement raced through you, and you could feel yourself growing wet. You broke the kiss, breathless, and looked into his eyes. He stared back at you, his pupils dilated, his expression one of raw desire. And then, with a growl that came from deep within his chest, he lifted you up and carried you to the nearby weight bench.

he began undressing you, the cool, hard steel dug into your back as he positioned you beneath him. His hands gripped your hips, steadying himself as he lowered his body down onto yours. The headboard of the bench pressed against your chest, pinning you in place as he began to grind against you, their flesh sliding wetly together. You moaned loudly, arching your back further as he found a rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, hitting just the right spot with his tip.

"Fuck," he growled into your ear. "Y’feel so good."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring him to you as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal force. The world spun around you, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his skin against yours, the smell of his sweat, the sound of your labored breathing mingling with the slapping of skin on skin. You felt yourself getting closer and closer, the release building inside you, threatening to consume you whole.

With a final, powerful thrust, Ghost buried himself to the hilt inside you, and you felt the wave of pleasure crash over you, washing away all thought and reason. Your orgasm racked your body, shuddering through you as your muscles tensed and your vision blurred. He followed you over the edge, his grip on you tightening as he groaned your name.

For what felt like an eternity, you were lost in the afterglow of your climax, your body still trembling as you tried to catch your breath. Finally, with a soft sigh, he pulled out of you and collapsed forward, resting his masked forehead against yours. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hot against your skin.

"God, yer’ incredible," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I've never felt anythin’ like tha’."

You smiled up at him, your heart still racing. "Neither have I," you admitted. "But I think I like it."

As you looked into his eyes, you knew that this wasn't just a one-time thing. This connection between you ran deeper than either of you could have ever imagined. And as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew that it had changed you. Forever.

ty all for reading, ts was my first fanfiction written… like ever… i hope i portrayed ghost correctly i guess but other than that please leave your thoughts and tips down below and dont feel shy to comment \(^ヮ^)/

[stesierra]

I'm writing a new book about angels and demons and the humans who have to deal with them because I want to and nobody can stop me. Here's the first chapter, which is pretty short. I have written this just now on my phone so live with any typos. There's no WIP intro. I haven't added to my Writeblr intro. I do what I want.

Let me know if I should write the rest of the book.

The Giant's Gamble

Chapter 1

Kirjath slipped through the ajar side door, contorting like a reed in a hurricane to clear the splintered doorframe. The nightclub music throbbed ahead of him, so loud he felt the vibration in his breastbone. To angelic ears, it was about as melodic as a jackhammer accompanying an angry toddler. But that didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to enjoy himself. Did he ever enjoy himself, really?

In the gloomy light, lovely young humans sauntered out of his way, half of them making cow eyes at him. The other half, mostly young men, did their best to puff themselves up, like offended cats. But the tallest of them didn't reach his shoulder.

He brushed past them all with a weary smile and pushed deeper into the club. Not towards the bar, which lay under a web of pipes that crawled across the unfinished ceiling like tentacles of some cosmic horror. Not towards the dance floor, where people who had, from his perspective, been born yesterday gyrated and swayed. No, his destination was at the back, through a door marked employees only. Locked, of course. As if it mattered.

With a twist of the wrist, he broke the doorknob off. It took only a second to dismantle the whole lock apparatus and squish himself through the too-small space. Nobody noticed, not with the music thumping overtime.

A dank narrow hallway greeted him on the other side, lit only by a bare bulb hanging from a frayed wire. It stank of black mold and piss. But at least he didn't have to look at the humans anymore. Kirjath hated places where humans tried to substitute alcohol for actual courage. And the music hurt his ears.

Down at the end of the hall, he found a crumbling stairwell leading down. Old leaks had scarred the cement with rusty water stains, as ugly as tear-stained mascara. No one had inspected this part of the building for decades. No doubt Camriel had ensured it. Well, he wouldn't be able to, after tonight.

He found his brother in the depth of his lair, sitting on a couch that had half-collapsed under his giant frame. Camriel wasn't actually his brother, for neither of them had ever been born. But the relationship was an appropriate shorthand.

The other grigori was staring up at a ceiling he'd plastered with pinups of anorexic teen girls. He looked almost skeletal himself, with legs so long the hems of his pants fell mid-knee. He stank of wine and too much cologne, the kind that claimed to be full of irresistible pheromones. His eyes were closed, but Kirjath couldn't tell if he was visiting the Intangible or just drunk.

“Camriel,” he said and drew his sword from thin air, which is where he kept it. People looked at you funny if you wore as sword these days. Especially one long enough for a giant.

The other angel opened bloodshot eyes and stared up at him. “Kirjath? Have you come to kill me?”

He nodded. Obviously so.

Camriel sat up, and the couch collapsed the rest of the way with a whump. “Why this time?”

This was obvious, too, but Kirjath answered, because he knew Camriel loved to live in denial. “You've been siring children. Triplets, all so big they had to be cut from their mother's belly. All unnaturally beautiful and strong.”

Camriel scoffed and scrambled to his feet from the ruins of the couch. “C-sections are routine now. Doesn't even kill the mother. What does it matter?”

“Nephilim are never routine,” Kirjath said. “Even if the mother survives.”

“Oh, like the modern world can't use a few more men of renown? They can get basketball scholarships. Life will be a cinch. Really, they should thank me.”

“Who should? The children you abandoned?” His grip tightened on his sword.

Camriel tossed his long hair over his shoulder. If he'd ever tried to comb it, the comb was probably still lost somewhere in there. “Heaven should thank me, for improving the gene pool.”

Kirjath nodded and offered his brother his most disappointed look. And then he stepped forward and rammed his sword through his brother's stomach.

“Ow! Fuck!” Camriel said, curling around the steel that had split his intestines. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Kirjath kicked his feet out from under him and ripped the blade loose, spraying the mildewed carpet with gore. He stood over his dying brother and said, “We were exiled. Because you couldn't stop breeding. Because you couldn't leave the humans alone.”

“It wasn't just me,” Camriel said, his tone utterly offended.

“The grigori,” Kirjath snarled. “Because they wouldn't stop. Because none of you would. And now look what’s become of us. I'm not going to let you keep breaking the law. Not that one. The only one that matters.”

“What are you, heaven’s watchdog?” Camriel spat. “They threw you out too, Kirjath! They threw us all out! So what if I broke their laws? Who the fuck cares?”

“I care,” Kirjath said. He lifted his sword.

Blood ran down Camriel’s lips and pooled in the hollow of his throat. “You think you're better than me?” he gurgled. “Better than the rest of us? Because you never knocked up some girl? You're not. Because you--”

Kirjath swung. And his brother's head rolled away, lips silenced, as the irony stink of blood overwhelmed the little room where his brother had spent his sad little life.

He'd be back, but not right away. And by the time he made his way back to the Tangible, perhaps he would have learned his lesson.

He turned his back on the headless body, dismissing his sword back to nowhere from whence it had come. And came face to face with a young woman. She stood in the doorway with a delighted look on her face, and she wore the sigil of Lilith at her throat.

“You killed him,” she said. “How wonderful.”

Tag list for everything

@anonymousfoz

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@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@macabremoons

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

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Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

[tenkos-heart]

tenko/tomura and fenrir: similarities

Welp. I consider this my proper post for the MHA fanbase, as I've been a lurker because the fanbase can be... something! If you wanna know more about me, pinned post!

Anyways, I've been thinking over the past couple of days of how strikingly similar Tenko is that of the figure of Fenrir in Norse Mythology. Also, if I DO get anything wrong in terms of Tenko, please let me know! My memory is shit and this manga is 400+ chapters long.

The thing with Fenrir is that his fate was already pre-destined, in a way. One of the seers told Odin that Fenrir would be apart of Ragnarok and being told to "swallow the All Father," as so as been told. Fenrir's tale already starts with tragedy. Being separated from his mother, his sister Hel was taken to... Hel, to be imprisoned in there, in a way. His brother, Jörmungandr, a regular snake was tossed into the sea, with hopes of drowning him. Instead, he grew so large, he became the Midgard Serpent, or World Serpent. For those who don't know, Midgard is our world within Norse mythology. But, the Gods had a different plan for Fenrir.

They decided to take Fenrir with them and to keep an eye on him. The one who took care of him the most, and cared for him the most was the God Tyr. The God of War, and even Justice. He was formerly apart of the Æsir. Also, something to note of, Tyr is also a God of Justice. So, Fenrir is raised in Asgard, home of the Gods and Goddesses, and fallen soldiers. Fenrir was a very happy, excitable pup who loved having a lot of fun. However, the wolf pup seemed to grow quite larger and larger. This worried the Gods, and because of the prophecy that Fenrir would eat Odin, they put together a plan to trap the wolf.

The Gods disguised their efforts as a game for Fenrir. Fenrir, the excited wolf he was, loved playing games. So, for this first "game", they chained him to a rock. It was a contest of sorts to test his strength. Even then, Fenrir broke through the chains. The chains weren't strong enough to hold the wolf down. So, the Gods turned elsewhere.

To the dwarves. They asked the dwarves to make the strongest chains, ever. This chain was quite different from the others. It looked more something like a ribbon. In some different stories, this happened twice before the ribbon idea. And naturally, the third time this happened Fenrir is suspicious and isn't sure what's going on. The wolf agreed to only be chained, IF only one of them would placed a hand in his mouth.

Tyr, the closest God to Fenrir to him offered his own arm up. Then, Fenrir couldn't be freed. He couldn't get out of his bindings, and thus, bite off Tyr's arm. Then, they teleported the wolf far away, and placed a sword within the wolf's mouth so he couldn't use his jaws. Then, it's said that the only way Fenrir will be free is during the destruction of Ragnarok. Odin confronts the beast on his stead with 8 legs, Sleipneir.

He will swallow Odin whole. However, Odin's son wouldn't let this stand. Vidarr would slay the wolf with his magical boots, splitting the wolf's mouth in half, thus his fate had befallen him.

I promise, there's a reason why I gave a lot of the backstory, we'll get into it!

If you haven't read up until MHA chp 425, spoilers will be here!

Tenko, since birth, had his entire life planned and trapped by literally one of the most awful people to ever exist. It didn't help that his father would emotionally berating him, leaving him outside. Even physically abusing him when he was 5 or the people in his life who were suppose to protect him, being bystanders. While Tenko does love his family, the bystander effect is very real. Or no one on the streets helping a bloodied, orphaned child on the streets.

Wondering for days and many nights without shelter, home, and food. That is, until All For One "found him and took him in." I.e. kidnapping his grooming victim, and then molded and neglected this kid for literal years until the LOV came around. I could go on about how much of a brillaint character Tenko is, but so many people have done that already and I wanna get into the meat of this.

Tenko and Fenrir were both happy, hopeful people who were molded and shaped by the very environments they were made in. Even before birth. For Fenrir, he was destined to be this destroyer of the world, and bring an end to a mighty King of Gods. While Tenko was going to be All For One's next vessel. The next Symbol of Fear. Both Tenko and Fenrir were molded into being their own separate Symbols of Fear.

Fenrir and Tenko never had a chance. Fenrir and Tenko never had a chance since birth. Fenrir and Tenko's destinies were already pre-determined. Both were left to rot by the societies they both were in, and no one bothered to give a helping hand. With Tyr, he did give justice, in a way. He had to deal with the consequences of his own inaction when he placed his hand into Fenrir's mouth. They both got something the other wanted, in a way.

Fenrir got some semblance of justice. While Tenko did gain friends, in the end. All Fenrir and Tenko (before his hatred was destroyed) thought they could do was bring destruction, violence, and chaos onto the world. I mean, fuck. They weren't taught anything else. I remembering reading a comment on a YouTube channel going over Fenrir's mythos and some others, and it perfectly sums up their situation.

The Gods just created their self-fulfilling prophecy. That is something that can absolutely be applied towards the heroes. Instead of trying to PREVENT Fenrir from being this symbol of destruction, and treating him nicely because of the prophecy, they decided that Fenrir was evil from the get-go and already plotted of leaving him to rot when he was a fucking pup. It was said of being a hopeful, happy pup who just loved to play games with his family. If someone had stepped in and actually HELPED Tenko, he wouldn't be dead.

(Or supposedly dead, with that one mysterious guy.)

If someone didn't ignore and just swept the problem of a stumbling, scared, child, they could have prevented so much. And now with Tenko being dead, they just created a self-fulfilling prophecy of another Symbol of Fear being groomed again.

Fenrir and Tenko were just two kids who were happy and hopeful of their world, and their innocent got snatched away from them from their respective societies. At the start of it all, they were just kids who loved their families.