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#I don’t know but that is truly problematic
2stepadmiral · 3 days
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So I have some thoughts on tonight‘s episode of acolyte, thoughts that I don’t think are being considered widely enough. The general response seems to be, from what I can tell and what I’ve seen online, that the witches were pretty much just doing their own thing, and the Jedi just showed up and started being assholes, and I’ve kind of got to argue against that.
Now to be fair, the topic of Jedi recruiting children has always been a bit of a problematic thing. From what I can tell, Jedi never just take children from their parents, but they do strongly encourage and probably to some degree manipulate parents to get permission. Definitely problematic. However, the situation with Osha was pretty obviously very different. Osha wasn’t an infant or a young toddler who just found, tested, and then convinced their parents to hand her over. She’s an eight-year-old girl who is visibly uncomfortable with what her parents, sister, and community expect from her.
She has said several times that she doesn’t want to be a witch, and in every instance, her reluctance is casually dismissed. Whether it’s Mae pulling the bossy sibling who knows best routine, Koril trying to aggressively shut down any dissent, or Aniseya affectionately assuring her that she will eventually grow out of her silly individualism, everyone in her immediate vicinity is basically telling her what she wants doesn’t matter. Then, Sol and Indara show up, and one of the first things they do is recognize Osha’s individual wants and encourage her to act on them. Yes, what Osha wants is in line with what they want, and as a child, she doesn’t fully understand what it is that she’s asking for, but they make it clear that the decision is hers, and all they encourage her to really do is to be honest with herself and be brave enough to be honest with everyone else. No one else in her life has ever encouraged her to do so, and there is a degree of child abuse present in that reality.
When the Jedi arrive at their home, there is obvious tension between the witches and the Jedi. Sol might be blatantly prepared for hostility, and Indara definitely had the air of someone who was ready to fight, but generally, the Jedi make an effort at being polite, despite the open hostility and even aggression the witches treat them with. Bear in mind, we don’t yet know the history of this particular group of witches, so whether or not the hostility is justified on either side remains to be seen. We know that the witches have a clear, victimhood mentality, based on the fact that their ceremony starts with a speech about how they’ve been persecuted for this appearance of using dark powers. Again, whether or not their powers are dark, or whether or not they’ve actually been victimized by anyone remains to be seen. They could be witches of Dathomir who were driven off world and legitimately persecuted due to incorrect association with the Nightsisters, or they could actually be Nightsisters or similar dark witch organization who are bitter about having their dark ambitions thwarted.
I’ll wrap it up real quick, basically, the coven, whether or not they are night sisters, is clearly a cult, and possibly a dark side cult that has in history of being up to no good. If that is the case, then the Jedi are probably justified in wanting to keep a close eye on them and being concerned about them training children. And yes, the Jedi have faults, and their recruitment methods are also problematic, but considering that when in their ideal form, the Jedi are truly a force for good in the galaxy that do go through times where they primarily function as tools of the Senate, they are definitively the lesser of two evils here. Especially when the coven is actively engaged in highly controlling behavior towards the children in their care.
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mun-akoon · 1 year
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I have found in my recent friendships all what I looked for in a romantic relationship. Real companionship, being my true self unapologetically, showing my interests passionately and giving giving giving. And that’s why I give my friends my all. I’ll always put them first when I can and I don’t think time will change that. They deserve as much commitment as any relationship gets. They became my village and that’s something people die never having experienced it.
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kingofmyborrowedheart · 4 months
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If you’re so disillusioned with who Taylor is as a person and believes she’s changed for the worse, why are you still here as a fan? If you believe her “activism” isn’t up to your standards, are tired of her not using her platform, see her as an uncaring and callous billionaire, why are you still here and engaging in fan spaces if you’re no longer enjoying her and her work? Just disengaging completely if that’s the case; find something or someone else to pour your time and energy into.
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codecracked · 2 years
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you know, it really is okay to make mistakes sometimes. we don’t always know everything. sometimes we're ignorant. we make poor choices. but we all deserve the room to educate ourselves, to change, to learn and grow. to be corrected with kindness. try to remember that not everyone is always acting with malicious intent.
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lordramsaybolton · 2 years
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Honestly Daemyra is one of the only things I’ve shipped that’s actually canon and it feels weird. I mean, you could argue thramsay is canon in a way, but I mean something less strictly dark and, uh, totally non consensual. Also less subtext.
I guess I was writing Reylo for a hot second(when I could still imagine it was incest after TFA lol) but let’s stick to ASOIAF. Obviously looking at fandom stuff it’s a very different vibe from the sort of content I’d been consuming before (tho as a side note it’s been wild to log back in and see thramsay stuff is still being created…if you remember me and don’t hate me due to years old drama & slander feel free to hmu or follow lol)
Anyway I’m glad to be along for the ride for the new ship??
Edited bc I spelled the ship name wrong duhhh my b
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starkidlabs · 6 months
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Americans are doing that thing on Twitter again where in order to dunk on the Brits they attempt to argue that immigrants to Britain aren’t really British.
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the-oblivious-writer · 5 months
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Get Her Back!
Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Athena!Reader
One-shot
Summary: You and Clarisse have always had a reputation for the rollercoaster you both called your relationship. While on another one of your "breaks," you decide you want to mess with her
Warning(s): Swearing, Clarisse & r are hella toxic, jealousy (on both ends but mostly jealous!Clarisse), making out (nothing more is hinted at, just Clarisse & r kissing like the problematic girlfriends they are), & arguing
Notes: Wooo this one got a bit heated before I knew it. Hope you enjoy
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You and Clarisse La Rue… how does one sum up your relationship with the Ares kid? You and her were known for being on and off, arguing almost as much as you made out. You were both in a toxic, heated, yet passionate, relationship. 
Oh, how you loved each other. 
You met Clarisse the first summer you got to camp. It didn’t take long for you to discover what you had gotten yourself into. She argued with you about everything, she had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye; you couldn’t help but be attracted to her, even when she was so obviously lying about her height. 
The first time you left Clarisse was in the spring, that was when your current dynamic truly started. You lasted about a week before you were back in her arms, forgetting how you threw all her stolen clothes out your cabin’s window just a few nights before. 
You were currently going through another one of your breaks with Clarisse while you laid down on your bed, reading as you tried to ignore another little lecture from your friend. 
“All I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you stay with her, you know? The second my boyfriend did me wrong, I kicked his ass out the door. For good,” he said, sitting at the end of your bed.
“That’s because you didn’t have what me and Clarisse have,” you responded, looking up at him from your book. He shrugged, mumbling, “Whatever.” 
“Do you love or hate her? I honestly can’t tell anymore. One second, she’s the worst human being to ever exist but then the next, she’s the love of your life, the woman you’re gonna marry.”
“I guess it’s up and down,” you replied in a nonchalant tone before looking back at your book.
He lightly chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he said, “I need to learn when to give up trying to figure you out.”
Later that night was the bonfire. You didn’t really feel like attending but your friend had basically begged you to go. Just five minutes in, and he was already flirting with a girl from cabin ten. You were staring off into the fire, red solo cup in your hand, when you suddenly heard somebody sit next to you. You turned your head to see a dark haired boy, looking at you with a smile as he spoke.
“Hey gorgeous, I’m Steve. I think I’ve seen you around before. Athena cabin, right?” He asked, his eyes never pulling from you. You didn’t feel like entertaining him. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was flirting with you. But thoughts of not reciprocating his flirtatious attitude quickly disappear when you see Clarisse watching from the corner of your eyes. 
All night you had to watch Clarisse cuddle up with someone who wasn’t you. And all night you refused to give her the attention you knew she was hoping to get out of it, your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to. So when you finally get the chance for that sweet revenge, you don't hesitate.
You looked at the boy next to you, putting on a sweet smile and placing a hand on his knee. “Yeah, cabin six. What about you?” You slightly tilted your head, looking at him as if he was the most interesting person on earth.
“Hermes cabin,” he responded. He suddenly grew a bit shy under touch, but welcomed it nevertheless. “Hey do you uh… wanna get out of here? I know this cool spot I could show you.” You knew what that was code for; do you want to make out?
“Sure, sounds good,” you winked at him before getting up. He held his hand out for you, which you took as you both began to walk away from the fire. Clarisse's eyes were on you the whole time, clenching her jaw as she watched you walk with him hand in hand. She ignored her siblings’ confused looks as she walked over to you before you and Steve could go any further.
“I think she’s good here,” she said—not asked.
“Um, I think she can make her own decisions. She’s a big girl, if she wants to go, she can go,” he responded. 
“I don’t know who you think you are, but she’s not leaving with you.” She glared at the boy with storms in her eyes, her fists balled up. By now your hands were separated from the boy’s, watching the entertaining scene in front of you with a knowing look on your face.
“Excuse me–” Before he could get himself into any more trouble, you walked to Clarisse’s side—she instantly put her hand on your lower back.
“Listen it was nice meeting you Steve, but she’s right; I should really get going; it’s getting kinda late.” You gave him a fake apologetic look. “Maybe I’ll see you around some other time?” You managed to get out as Clarisse was practically dragging you away. 
“What’s your problem?” You said to her when you both finally made it to the cabin—her cabin. 
“My problem? What’s yours! You know Steve is a douchebag, we were literally laughing about it last week,” Clarisse let out with an aggravated tone. 
“Why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that somebody else is stuck with my high maintenance ass!” She only rolled eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, you really think I wouldn’t bring that up!” You dryly laughed.
“Oh my Gods,” she mumbled before continuing. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met!”
“And you’re the most hot-tempered woman I have ever met!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up as you stepped closer to her. “You’re a hot-headed asshole!”
“Well it’s better than being a stubborn know-it-all!” She took a step towards you; your faces were now no more than inches apart. You both stole a glance at the other’s lip before a moment of silence. Suddenly, your lips connected. She was firmly gripping your waist while one of your hands found itself in her hair as the other held the back of her neck.
“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled breathless against her lips. She pushed you up against the cabin door; Gods, you didn’t even care that you were still outside and anybody could just walk by.
“I fucking hate you too.” Her kissing was hungry, passionate. Blood was rushing through veins, your cheeks were warm, and butterflies had erupted in your stomach. You could feel Clarisse feeling for the door's handle for a few seconds before you reached behind you to turn it.
You both went inside, Clarisse kicking the door shut. You could feel her warm touch as her hand grazed the skin of your lower back. She walked you backwards toward her bed, never daring to pull away. 
“Fuck, I love you,” you let out as Clarisse moved down to your neck.
“I love you too, don’t you forget it,” she murmurs against you. 
Clarisse La Rue may have been narcissistic, stubborn, hot-headed, and pretentious, but you were your mother’s daughter, so maybe you could fix her.
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A/N: she could abuse me, beat the dog-shit outta me, cheat on me, hit me with her car
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writingwithcolor · 3 months
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Sri Lankan Fairies and Senegalese Goddesses: Mixing Mythology as a Mixed Creator
[Note: this archive ask was submitted before the Masterpost rules took effect in 2023. The ask has been abridged for clarity.]
@reydjarinkenobi asked:
Hi, I’m half Sri Lankan/half white Australian, second gen immigrant though my mum moved when she was a kid. My main character for my story is a mixed demigod/fae. [...] Her bio mum is essentially a Scottish/Sri Lankan fairy and her other bio mum (goddess) is a goddess of my own creation, Nettamaar, who’s name is derived from [...] Wolof words [...]. The community of mages that she presided over is from the South Eastern region of Senegal [...] In the beginning years of European imperialism, the goddess basically protected them through magic and by blessing a set of triplets effectively cutting them off from the outside world for a few centuries [...] I was unable to find a goddess that fit the story I wanted to tell [...] and also couldn’t find much information on the internet for local gods, which is why I have created my own. I know that the gods in Hinduism do sort of fit into [the story] but my Sri Lankan side is Christian and I don’t feel comfortable representing the Hindu gods in the way that I will be this goddess [...]. I wanted to know if any aspect of the community’s history is problematic as well as if I should continue looking further to try and find an African deity that matched my narrative needs? I was also worried that having a mixed main character who’s specifically half black would present problems as I can’t truly understand the black experience. I plan on getting mixed and black sensitivity readers once I finish my drafts [...] I do take jabs at white supremacy and imperialism and I I am planning to reflect my feelings of growing up not immersed in your own culture and feeling overwhelmed with what you don’t know when you get older [...]. I’m sorry for the long ask but I don’t really have anyone to talk to about writing and I’m quite worried about my story coming across as insensitive or problematic because of cultural history that I am not educated enough in.
Reconciliation Requires Research
First off: how close is this world’s history to our own, omitting the magic? If you’re aiming for it to be essentially parallel, I would keep in mind that Senegal was affected by the spread of Islam before the Europeans arrived, and most people there are Muslim, albeit with Wolof and other influences. 
About your Scottish/Sri Lankan fairy character: I’ll point you to this previous post on Magical humanoid worldbuilding, Desi fairies as well as this previous post on Characterization for South Asian-coded characters for some of our commentary on South Asian ‘fae’. Since she is also Scottish, the concept can tie back to the Celtic ideas of the fae.
However, reconciliation of both sides of her background can be tricky. Do you plan on including specific Sri Lankan mythos into her heritage? I would tread carefully with it, if you plan to do so. Not every polytheistic culture will have similar analogues that you can pull from.
To put it plainly, if you’re worried about not knowing enough of the cultural histories, seek out people who have those backgrounds and talk to them about it. Do your research thoroughly: find resources that come from those cultures and read carefully about the mythos that you plan to incorporate. Look for specificity when you reach out to sensitivity readers and try to find sources that go beyond a surface-level analysis of the cultures you’re looking to portray. 
~ Abhaya
I see you are drawing on Gaelic lore for your storytelling. Abhaya has given you good links to discussions we’ve had at WWC and the potential blindspots in assuming, relative to monotheistic religions like Christianity, that all polytheistic and pluralistic lore is similar to Gaelic folklore. Fae are one kind of folklore. There are many others. Consider:
Is it compatible? Are Fae compatible with the Senegalese folklore you are utilizing? 
Is it specific? What ethnic/religious groups in Senegal are you drawing from? 
Is it suitable? Are there more appropriate cultures for the type of lore you wish to create?
Remember, Senegalese is a national designation, not an ethnic one, and certainly not a designation that will inform you with respect to religious traditions. But more importantly:
...Research Requires Reconciliation
My question is why choose Senegal when your own heritage offers so much room for exploration? This isn’t to say I believe a half Sri-Lankan person shouldn’t utilize Senegalese folklore in their coding or vice-versa, but, to put it bluntly, you don’t seem very comfortable with your heritage. Religions can change, but not everything cultural changes when this happens. I think your relationship with your mother’s side’s culture offers valuable insight to how to tackle the above, and I’ll explain why.  
I myself am biracial and bicultural, and I had to know a lot about my own background before I was confident using other cultures in my writing. I had to understand my own identity—what elements from my background I wished to prioritize and what I wished to jettison. Only then was I able to think about how my work would resonate with a person from the relevant background, what to be mindful of, and where my blindspots would interfere. 
I echo Abhaya’s recommendation for much, much more research, but also include my own personal recommendation for greater self-exploration. I strongly believe the better one knows oneself, the better they can create. It is presumptuous for me to assume, but your ask’s phrasing, the outlined plot and its themes all convey a lack of confidence in your mixed identity that may interfere with confidence when researching and world-building. I’m not saying give up on this story, but if anxiety on respectful representation is a large barrier for you at the moment, this story may be a good candidate for a personal project to keep to yourself until you feel more ready.
(See similar asker concerns here: Running Commentary: What is “ok to do” in Mixed-Culture Supernatural Fiction, here: Representing Biracial Black South American Experiences and here: Am I fetishizing my Japanese character?)
- Marika.
Start More Freely with Easy Mode
Question: Why not make a complete high-fantasy universe, with no need of establishing clear real-world parallels in the text? It gives you plenty of leg room to incorporate pluralistic, multicultural mythos + folklore into the same story without excessive sweating about historically accurate worldbuilding.
It's not a *foolproof* method; even subtly coded multicultural fantasy societies like Avatar or the Grishaverse exhibit certain harmful tropes. I also don't know if you are aiming for low vs high fantasy, or the degree of your reliance on real world culture / religion / identity cues.
But don't you think it's far easier for this fantasy project to not have the additional burden of historical accuracy in the worldbuilding? Not only because I agree with Mod Marika that perhaps you seem hesitant about the identity aspect, but because your WIP idea can include themes of othering and cultural belonging (and yes, even jabs at supremacist institutions) in an original fantasy universe too. I don't think I would mind if I saw a couple of cultural markers of a Mughal Era India-inspired society without getting a full rundown of their agricultural practices, social conventions and tax systems, lol.
Mod Abhaya has provided a few good resources about what *not* to do when drawing heavily from cultural coding. With that at hand, I don't think your project should be a problem if you simply make it an alternate universe like Etheria (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power), Inys (The Priory of the Orange Tree) or Earthsea (the Earthsea series, Ursula K. Le Guin). Mind you, we can trace the analogues to each universe, but there is a lot of freedom to maneuver as you wish when incorporating identities in original fantasy. And of course, multiple sensitivity readers are a must! Wishing you the best for the project.
- Mod Mimi
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sylvies-chen · 5 months
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okay so… I’m crying!
like. my tv is pauses right now because I’m crying and digesting that entire scene between zeus, poseidon, and percy because that was KILLER. like genuinely in terms of acting and writing that was such an astounding four minutes of television.
first off, rest in peace to lance reddick and a round of applause for his CHILLING performance. he plays zeus with such a perfect level of intentionality that even to see zeus be thrown off for a second is just barely noticeable. the temper, the control he exhibits in jumping between very different levels of emotion, it’s so insane. truly insane walker was keeping on par with an actor like that. and of course, then, with tont stephens himself. and poseidon’s entrance? LET’S TALK ABOUT IT.
to see poseidon, a proud species of god, jump in and immediately surrender to zeus ALL FOR PERCY is just… picture that. picture the father you’ve never met, who you’ve been wondering about your entire life. picture fearing he’s the worst man you’ve ever met, picture resenting him for adhering to a system you can see clearly as loveless and problematic but still having this weird complicated love for him because you just want to know where you come from. and the first thing you ever hear him say is, softly and to protect you, “I surrender.”
to put away pride like that, to let love win… the gods fail at that consistently, but he doesn’t in that moment. and so many details of this scene are absolutely perfect and that isn’t even an exaggeration. poseidon mentioning how percy’s inherited his rebellious streak from him because the sea doesn’t like to be contained. sally having taught percy ancient greek, and poseidon being not at all surprised— and, in that, the subtle recognition that sally did raise him and teach him everything. and then: the first question you ever get to ask your father? “do you dream about mom.” ARE YOU JOKING??? and poseidon need only smile, because the answer is obviously yes even though we don’t hear him say it.
I’m floored. honestly.
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peterthepark · 2 years
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so damn into you
pairing: eddie munson x cheerleader!reader
tags: 18+ graphic smut, mature content, piv, dirty talk, established fwb, swearing, rough sex, ring kink and spanking, mentions of drugs, squirting, choking, throat fucking
summary: good girls stay out of trouble. bad girls invite rockstars like eddie munson into their bedroom and fuck secretly behind closed doors. there’s something different about your dynamic though, and you’re starting to think it isn’t just the sex.
notes: title references so damn into you by vlad holiday! enjoy :)
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There seems to be this forbidden rule in the crowded halls of Hawkins High that runs till this day. It’s funny, truly, how the concepts behind cliques have such a serious hold over your fellow senior classmates. The idea that cliques can’t mix, can’t intermingle, or — hell — can’t even fucking look at each other because a glance meant absolutely everything drives you crazy.
Especially when you liked breaking the rules.
Especially when you liked looking at him.
Him with his shaggy hair, those big doe-eyes with that familiar sparkle of mischief that always had you smiling behind your locker whenever he’d saunter by, him with his obvious double takes of boyish desire in the cafeteria whenever you’d walk past in that tiny little skirt to go sit with the cheer squad as if you didn’t know each other at all, him and the way he stares at you after school, crossing his arms across his chest while he leans up against his van and counts the minutes till he can touch you.
Those eyes were always only for you. Always you. Always him. And yet, always behind closed doors, out of sight, forever in your mind, because the connection between an innocent cheerleader and the mirthful leader of the freakish Hellfire Club would be deemed the semester’s next controversial topic aside from that recurring rumor that Chrissy Cunningham does cocaine in the girls’ bathroom.
Not true, by the way. It’s definitely weed.
The twenty-year old senior has a reputation far different from yours, an accumulation of all the negative remarks people seem to implode upon him for his extreme love of D&D, overachieving rock band and his late highschool graduation. 
Although, if someone were to accuse you of having sex with Eddie Munson on a regular basis? You’d be totally screwed. Surely, something with a lack of seriousness couldn’t be so problematic? Sex with no feelings. One-hundred percent, to the core, consensual sex, filthy and forward with zero emotions implied. 
A fling, who you’d let tear you apart anytime and any day.
A fling that leaves you not just weak in the knees but… fuck. That’s all it is: a fling. Right?
So when Eddie shows up at your bedroom window with autumn-colored leaves in his hair and a shit-eating grin, the palpitations in your achy heart tell you otherwise. You don’t exchange many words, moreso just usher him inside and gently shut the latch behind him as if your entire manic spiel of avoiding each other’s houses hadn’t mattered at all anymore.
At this point, nothing matters. Except him. He always does. Especially now, when he’s hauling himself off of that little bench by your windowsill and nearly face-planting into the carpet with how he ungracefully maneuvers his taller frame into your arms for the millionth time this week. You’re careful not to make too much sound, giggling like children as Eddie’s boots thump against your flooring.
“Sorry. Sorry.” Eddie whispers with twitchy lips, scratching the nape of his neck bashfully as he adjusts to the midnight darkness of your small bedroom. “I know I’m late, but I had this really, really important campaign earlier and those shitheads Dustin and Mike needed a ride home, so I didn’t want to just leave them hanging which is why…”
You interrupt him with an overdue kiss to the lips, caressing his flushed cheeks as his outgoing hand gestures come to a halt and instinctively make their way down your soft sides. You slowly ease your tongue into his mouth, his large palm splaying over your jaw as he draws you closer to him. 
“Well, hello to you too, sweetheart.” Eddie quips playfully. 
You pull away shyly, wiping the smeared gloss from your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Sorry. Artificial strawberry.”
He hums in approval, smacking his lips together. “Tastes sweet. You know, actually reminds me of something…”
“Oookay, you can stop right there.” 
“I was gonna say your…”
You glare at him, “Eddie.” 
“Fine.” He rubs your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, remnants of a chuckle falling upon his features as the moonlight dances through your curtains. “Y’know, your lips are always so soft, so… fucking delicate — how do you do that? Jesus Christ, you smell really — fuck, you smell really good right now.”
You twirl one of his unruly curls around your digit, batting your lashes up at him as you pout with feigned innocence. “All fresh and clean from a shower.”
Eddie’s brows shoot upwards in amusement at your suggestion, “I can change that.” 
“Really?” You gnaw on the inside of your mouth, feeling his hand dip lower and lower on your back as you instinctively arch into him. “Why? Feeling filthy?”
He holds your cheek, palm spreading across your blemished skin as he stares into your eyes. “Everytime I’m with you, all I am is filthy.” His lips twitch humorously. “You turn me into an absolute horndog, what can I say? Short skirts, knee-high socks, and you know I go a little crazy for those black converse.”
“Converse turns you on?” You snicker, nearly yelping aloud when the backs of your knees finally hit the edge of your king-sized bed and you catch yourself against the springy mattress. 
You look up to Eddie, jaw falling open as he thumbs at your bottom lip. His tall shadow is far from menacing, but surely intimidating as he smiles toothily down at your frame. “You’re so silly, converse doesn’t turn me on. But, hey, you know what does, though?” He sighs out through his nostrils, using his other hand to card through your scalp and tilt your head back. “Mmm, look at me.”
“I am.” You gulp loudly.
“Look harder, Y/N.” You want him to swallow you whole. Right there, with that look, the intensity of his gaze and the dominant stature of his skilled hands molding and melting into your body. “You know what turns me on? The thought of having fucked you in nothing but those converse, back in my van, just a few days ago. You must remember, hm?” 
You clench your thighs together at the recollection.
“I remember, alright.” You hold his stare, feeling his thumb dip a bit further into your mouth. “Came home smelling like sex and weed. My cheer uniform… all sticky and gross.”
“And you liked it… because the next day, you still smelled like my van. Meaning…” Eddie hooks his finger against the corner of your lip, before pulling away and putting the glistening digit against his own tongue. “You slept without washing me off you, little lady.” He hums in approval when you shut your eyes. “Hawkins’ perfect angel of a cheerleader, such a good fucking girl that surely no one in this small town would suspect that she’s actually just a slut for my cock…”
You whimper, tucking your chin to your chest as a rush of heat pulses through your cunt. “F-Fucking hell…” 
“With the mouth of an actual sailor, by the way.” He shrugs almost dorkily, “But, god, do I love that mouth.” His hand slips to the nape of your neck, fingers gripping the soft skin before he starts to breathe heavily and blink rapidly. “Shit, can I kiss you?”
You don’t even answer, just nod and awkwardly rise from the bed to meet Eddie’s lips halfway — your knees are buckling beneath you from the weight of him against you, his plump lips velvety and familiar as his tongue explores your wet mouth. 
You try to be more resigned, knowing that flaunting your neediness would only stroke Eddie’s already-growing ego. But your older classmate has learned to see right through whatever facade you use to convince yourself that you’re immune to him. 
This current dynamic is different from when you first slept together.
You’ve grown bolder, he’s taken note of that. Especially in public, you like to stare. A minute turns into two, two turns into a couple glances that are too shit to be even called subtle, and glances turn into objectifying stares at his hands or rings, his lap, and sometimes even the ink on his arms.
Eddie gets off on it more than he should.
He finds pleasure in breaking your little good-girl cheerleader act, knowing that his unholy influence is seeping right through the cracks of your misleading halo.
But you’ve also grown tender to one another. Eddie knows there’s still that awful rift between your differing sides of highschool, but sometimes your company means more than just sex to him. He feels… wanted, seen, sure of himself, because a pretty woman like you probably wouldn’t hang out with anyone like him if he wasn’t someone of good substance. 
And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t only sex. Because on the afternoons you’d sit in his van, he sometimes wouldn’t even think about what was underneath that cheer uniform. Fuck the uniform, he could listen to you and your animated self talk for ages, watching how your bright smile spreads across your cheeks and your kind eyes light up with enthusiasm as you tell him about your day. 
He knows he’s screwing himself over for the long run.
“I’m still sore, just so you know.” You whisper brokenly against his lips, clutching a fistful of his leather jacket. “I had to skip last practice because I really couldn’t walk straight.”
Eddie moans wantonly at the confession, covering up his whiny tone with a stifled cough. “Oh, that’s a shame.”
“It really is.” 
“Let’s make it happen again, then.” He grins, winking at you before he’s settling you down onto the bed. He rests on his knees between your spread legs, chin jutted out as he studies how your arms lay out over your pretty head. “Fuck, you’re so cute like this.”
You scoff, glad that the darkness can mask your flustered expression. “M’not doing anything.” 
Eddie tosses his jacket to the side, baring a plain white tee. “No, you aren’t. It’s just adorable seeing how all innocent and put-together you look right before I fuck you.” 
You gasp when he roughly tugs you closer to him by the slope of your calf, hooking your leg over his shoulder and pervertedly watching the way your shorts ride up your thigh from the new angle. 
“Take a picture,” You breathe out, moaning quietly as Eddie kisses along your exposed skin and brushes his mouth against your ankle. “It’ll last longer.”
“I have enough pictures back at home.” He smirks devilishly with a shrug, and you can’t help but laugh knowing that he’s absolutely right. Shoebox of polaroids and other things hidden under his bed. Classic move. “None of them are as good as the real deal right here, sweetheart.”
Eddie sets your leg down from his shoulder, gently skimming his hand over the faint lovebites across your thigh before he’s helping you out of your oversized shirt and shorts. Both look two sizes too big on you, but either way, he still finds it sexy. His palms hover over the naked swell of your breasts, fingertips barely running across your hard nipples as the cool air of your bedroom hits your chest. 
Your apparent lack of bra is coupled with a pair of lacy boyshort panties, a little ripped by the waistband, but Eddie honestly doesn’t care (he can do a lot more damage than some wear and tear). He admires how it hugs your hips perfectly, cheeky from the back and nearly teases him with how it drapes over your ass before the cloth disappears between your luscious thighs.
“Touch me.” You pout, tucking his hair behind his ear. 
He grins. “So eager, let me take you in. Don’t rush it.”
“Mmm, okay. Whatever you say, dungeon master.” A giggle escapes your throat, sweet and innocent, and not at all mischievous. His nostrils flare, eyes dilating into the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen him sport. “Does… that turn…? Oh, my god, it does!”
He pushes your shoulder playfully, sneaking a glance at the way your breasts jiggle from the movement. “Shut up.”
“Okay, I thought it was a joke.”
Eddie winces. “You’re kinkshaming right now, you know that?”
You bite back your widening smile, and take it upon yourself to hook your arms behind his neck as you clamber onto his lap. “I think it’s kinda hot.”
“You’re a horrible liar, Y/N.”
“Oh, please fuck me, dungeon master.” You draw a laugh out of Eddie, stroking his flushed cheeks as he finally finds the courage to lock eyes with you again. “Show me who’s boss. Come on.”
Eddie hisses when you grind yourself against his denim-clad thigh, suddenly a reminder of his aching hard-on. “You’re a fucking whore.”
“Okay, now you’re just telling me qualities about myself that I already know.” You nudge your nose against his, entranced by the image of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So? Are you gonna fuck me like the whore you think I am?”
Eddie’s hands squeeze the fleshiness of your ass, rings cold against your bottom before a hot sting starts to crawl over your skin. 
He spanked you, and you’re certain that his ornate jewelry has left an angry mark that’ll appear in the morning.
“No need for me to think when I already know.” He whispers, before he’s pulling his shirt over his wild head of hair and flinging the ball of fabric at you. You catch it before it can hit you in the face, tossing it back at Eddie with a giggly hmph! that makes both of you lose your balance.
The sudden motion combined with your bodies at the edge of the bed sends you tumbling onto the carpet, limbs hitting the floor with a foreshadowing of bruises. You both wince at the loud thud that echoes throughout the house, and Eddie’s thankful that your family is full of deep sleepers — a theory that he hates to say has been tested out before.
“Are you okay?” He laughs, propping himself up on a pale elbow as he cups a hand over his twitchy mouth. You both erupt into hearty chuckles, muffling your amusement behind your forearm.
You groan, rubbing your boob. “Peachy.” 
“Mmm, I’m sorry. Listen, I can make it better.” Eddie crawls over to you, spreading your thighs apart with an expert knee as he hovers over you. “I know a couple tricks.”
“If you’re that horny, you could’ve just told me.” He watches the careful rise and fall of your breasts, taking in the suppleness of your abdomen and the slight arch in your back against the floorboards.
He bends over you, slowly mouthing at the space above your navel before his large hands travel up your stomach and knead at your tits. Your mouth falls open, nothing but the ghost of a moan leaving your throat as Eddie pinches your nipples and runs his tongue up your middle. The hot muscle immediately finds one of your breasts, taking the pebbled skin between his lips before he tends to your other hardened nipple. 
You card a shaky hand through his curls, taking a gentle handful and guiding his head to that sweet spot beneath your jaw. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” Eddie whispers, pecking the underside of your chin before he’s trailing his lips over that vein in your neck. “Can I tell you something?” You hum, lashes fluttering against your cheek as Eddie nips at your earlobe with a knowing grin. “I’m so fucking horny, I just wanna take you from behind on this floor. Is that what you wanted to hear from me, Y/N? God, is that alright? Me eating you out right here, me fucking your mouth till you’re just drooling, then me cumming inside your little pussy? Is that okay with you, sweet girl?”
You squirm beneath him, pleading with your eyes as he pins your wrists over your head. “Y-Yes, Eddie. I… fuck, yes. Please.” His teeth make contact with your neck, a tiny pinch drawing a needy groan out of you before his tongue swipes across your pulse point and soothes the bite mark he’s left. “Wanna feel good.”
Eddie kneels back and sighs out desperately, puffing his hair away from his face as he guides your hand and runs it over his torso. You bite your lip as goosebumps form under your compelling touch, his faint abs flexing against your palm as you skim over his happy trail and make straight for the tattoo near his collarbone.
“You can be quiet for me, can’t you?” He inquires, his voice dripping with desire. You nod instantly, and Eddie almost laughs at how quickly your head bobs in agreement. “That’s a good girl. Help me out of this, yeah? Can’t let me stay here and do all the work.” He gestures at his heavy belt buckle and distressed jeans, smiling cattily as your fingers eagerly run his belt out of the loops and pop the button of his pants. “Fuck, feel how hard I am.”
You sit up and press your hand against the thick outline of his clothed cock, mewling at the feeling as Eddie’s eyes light up with an immediate burst of ego. 
“Don’t let it get to your head, Munson.”
“Honestly? It’s all going straight to my dick.” He huffs, throwing his head back as you kiss him through his boxers. The tone of his voice changes instantly once you start to palm him, lips massaging the tip of his leaking prick through the fabric, “Shit, fuck, o-okay… you know what, I’ve been edging myself this entire day, and I really don’t wanna get walked in on so if you could… just… hell, if I could fuck your throat like right now… please, I’m dying to be inside you.”
“God, you really are horny tonight.” You laugh teasingly, pulling the waistband of his boxers past his hips. “What’s gotten into you, rockstar? Is it the whole dungeon master thing?”
“Oh, my god. You need to shut the fuck up.” He hisses playfully, scooting forward until his hard cock is aligned with your parting mouth. “Getting off on my embarrassment is so not funny, Y/N.”
He doesn’t hesitate to shove the reddened tip right between your lips, and you immediately salivate at the weight of him on your tongue. Waiting has never been Eddie’s strong suit, always too eager, and you seem to take it as impatience when really, he’s yearning to be as close to you as possible. 
“Mmm… E-Eddie!” You whimper around him, using your fist to fuck the base of his cock while you suckle on his aching head. 
He inhales deeply, placing his hand on the back of your head. “Look at you, baby. C’mon, suck me off. You know exactly how to do it. Had to teach you in the library bathroom that one time, didn’t I?” His hips instinctively buck up into you, pushing his length further into your mouth. The tip of your nose is pressed up against the groomed tuft of dark curls by his lower abdomen, inhaling the scent of his manhood as Eddie guides your head up and down his dick. “Fuck, and you were such a f-fast learner, too. Weren’t you? Can I go a bit harder, sweetheart?”
Your face scrunches up into pleasure when Eddie’s hand dips between your thighs, cold rings skimming over the damp crotch of your panties before you’re widening your legs and opening your jaw even more for him. 
He tightens his hold on the back of your head, fingers stroking your scalp as he keeps you in place and his hips rhythmically meet your mouth. Saliva starts to roll down your chin, a trail of wetness making its way past your flexing neck as Eddie fucks your warm throat. 
“Damn it, Y/N, you’re taking it so well. You love it when I fuck your throat like this? Filthy thing, tsk tsk. What would your little cheer team say? Their favorite member… s-shit, getting her throat fucked by an awful boy like me in her own bedroom. You gonna tell ‘em how much you enjoy getting corrupted by me?”
You scratch at his inked thighs, clasping a hand over the backside of his knee to draw him nearer. His jeans hang haphazardly low on his hips, the front slick from the spit dripping off your knuckles and the mess that spills over the corners of your lips. 
Eddie finds pleasure in your humiliation, in fact, it’s what keeps his cock begging for more. 
So, when you quickly pull away from him and blink away the tears from your sparkling eyes to utter your next words, he’s practically begging for sweet release.
“Want you to be rougher with me tonight. Please, Eds.”
“How rough?” His brow quirks upwards, a taunting smirk tugging at his mouth. “Like… fuck you till you can’t walk kind-of-rough? Slap you in the face? Spank you till your gorgeous ass is just… covered in — fuck — bruises?“ He drags the tip of his prick along your cheek, moaning at how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling and a shaky sigh leaves your body. “Choke you till your neck is covered with the outline of my rings? What, so you can show up to school tomorrow and flaunt it for everyone to gawk at like the fucking dumbasses they are? Can’t figure out who’s been railing the pretty cheerleader, can’t they?”
You whine at his loaded words, avoiding eye contact when his fingers find the underside of your loose jaw. His touch is a stark contrast to the tone of his voice. “Need you so bad.”
Eddie begs to differ. He needs you more. Needs to be buried inside you and never leave, just an endless night of wild, uncoordinated sex like horny rabbits — so believe him when he says he needs this more.
“Where do you want me?”
A pout forms on your lips as you intertwine your hand with his and drag it towards your mound. “Here.”
Eddie coos, splaying a hand over your stomach. “Lay back then, baby. I’ll go easy. Promise.” You send him an unconvinced look, watching as he finds solace in the space between your thighs and flops onto his stomach. “What’s up with that face?”
You roll your eyes, gesturing at him as he hooks his ringed thumbs over your boyshorts and pulls. “And by easy you mean… make me cum on your tongue like fifty gazillion times till I’m begging for mercy.”
He pauses in contemplation, before letting out a sound of agreement and pursing his lips. “Sounds ‘bout right. You never seem to really complain though.” You swear your vision blurs when Eddie flattens his digit along your folds, teasing your poor hole with gentle swirls. “My sweet Y/N, it seems that you’re already soaking wet.”
“I can’t help it. Rings off, by the way.”
Eddie playfully frowns, making haste to rid himself of his silver ornaments. “Watch these for me.” You moan when he lines the cold jewelry straight along your navel, “And keep still.” He says. “Wouldn’t want these little babies all over the floor.”
You look down at him from where you lay, hands reaching for him as his steady breaths fan over your pulsing cunt. The placement of his rings on your belly feels incredibly sexual, like a signature on your body that belonged to Eddie. Every tiny movement you make causes the silver to shift just a little bit, so when his tongue finally makes contact with your clit, you have to stop yourself from thrashing out in satisfaction.
But something about the way Eddie looks at you from between your thighs, his moans buried in your own folds, just makes you want to leap up and take him right there. 
Maybe you don’t give him enough credit for his restraint.
He continues to flick his tongue over your bundle of nerves, testing out your sensitivity and relearning the perfect amount of pressure when he suckles on your clit. He drags his hands down your outer thighs, gripping the soft flesh with a newfound hunger.
“Fuck, E-Eddie… feels nice. God, I love your mouth, you’re so — so good with it, baby.” 
“Yeah? Fucking tastes delicious. Could eat your pussy out everyday.” He chuckles sneakily. “Maybe even take you to-go. Lick you up whenever I need a snack.”
You whimper, balling your hands into fists in his hair when he slips a long finger inside you. “Perv.” 
“Simply a man speaking his mind, Y/N.” Eddie’s digit slowly curls into you, making an embarrassing wet and sopping sound that draws a whiny groan out of him. “Christ, you really are wet. Fucking hell, babe.”
Babe.
That’s a first. 
Eddie adds another finger, the soft heel of his palm is pressed roughly against your clit as he rocks his hand into you. Your cunt grips around him tightly, pulling him in further with every stroke that brushes against your contracting walls. He nibbles on your inner thigh while gauging your reaction, dreamily gazing up at you with those huge eyes as he fucks you with his slender fingers.
“Eds, please. Mmm… f-fuck, I’m… fuck!” You grit your teeth to muffle the sounds of your broken moans, the rings laid out on your stomach nearly toppling over as your hips jolt up. “You fill me up so well, your fingers are so — fuck, please. Please just fuck me.”
“Oh, such a dirty mouth.” He hums in amusement, grinning as he uses his other hand to massage your clit. “At least give me one orgasm. Just one, baby. You know I love making you cum more than once. You deserve it, deserve cumming over and over again like the pretty girl you are.”
His hand snaps into you faster, your juices coating his palm as you start to drip all over him. His digits are embarrassingly slick, and you quickly feel the rush of your climax approaching from his gentle words.
“I’m — I’m close, just please… please keep touching me like that. Gonna… gonna cum.” 
A smile spreads across his face, “Yeah? Keep beggin’ for it. Show me how much you want it. Need some convincing.”
“Please, please let me cum. I’m so — Eddie, want you so bad. Please make me cum so I can… fuck, so I can have your cock inside me already.” 
“Only because you said so, sweet thing.”
You share a look. Longing. Need. Lust. 
Then Eddie is fucking his fingers knuckle-deep into you, relentless and unstopping, a sensation so overwhelming that you don’t even know you’re cumming until Eddie is pointing out how you’ve wet the carpet. 
“Did you just…” Your mouth falls open in disbelief, breasts heaving as he pulls his fingers from your cunt. 
He grins toothily. The smug bastard. “Make you squirt? Hell-fucking-yeah.” Eddie leans over you, capturing your lips in a celebratory kiss that feels all too tender. “That was so goddamn hot. Christ, I could cream my pants.”
“You’re so lame.” You laugh, pushing his shoulder gently before he’s pecking either side of your cheek.
“Lame? Does lame make a girl squirt? I don’t think so. I’m cool-lame. Watch, I’ll make you squirt again.”
“In your dreams, Munson.”
He slips his boots off, pushing the rest of his jeans down and kicks it to the side. “Get on your knees.”
You send him a challenging look, raising your brows with a smirk. “If I don’t?”
“Guess I can just do this, then.” You yelp as Eddie flips you onto your stomach. His rings clatter loudly to the floorboards, flying in all different directions as he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. A heavy sigh leaves his mouth, and you glance back at him with sudden concern. “Fuck… condom?”
“Just pull out.”
“Just… pull… out?”
You shrug, making a confused face. “Yeah, I’ll pop something in the morning.”
“Y/N, honey, have you ever been to this thing called… I don’t know, sex-ed?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and you would’ve laughed had you not noticed his extremely hard cock waiting in his hand.
“Honestly, I’m more of a hands-on learner.”
“Oh, are you now?”
“Most definitely. You’d know.”
“You sure you want me to pull out? We can just stop right here if you don’t wanna keep going.”
You bite your lip, eyeing him over your shoulder with a half-lidded gaze. “I wanna keep going.”
“Down you go then, Y/N. Fuck, let me see you.” His hand comes down on the middle of your spine, pressing onto your back until your cheek is laying against the floor. You can feel his tip prodding into your entrance, the teasing motion of his cock rubbing against your needy slit. “Shit, baby, could just cum on myself from looking at you.”
“Please, f-fuck me.”
His dick enters you in one, slow and agonizing motion. You muffle your moans into the carpet, mewling from the immense stretch you feel between your legs as Eddie buries himself deep inside you. His hips are lined up against the curve of your ass, his large hands leaving dark prints on your skin as he pulls out and pushes back in.
“S-shit… Y/N.” He drawls, hair falling against his face as he watches his thick cock disappear into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight. What the fuck… Christ, it’s like the first time I had you.”
When he took your virginity on that lunch table in the trailer park, that’s definitely what he meant.
“Oh, my god. You’re so — so big, I can’t… can’t think with you inside, I just… fuck, move.” You reach back for his hand, nearly crying out when he places his palms on either side of your head and looms over your compromised position. He trails his soft lips over the nape of your neck, his pick necklace brushing over your skin as he breathes your scent in. “Need you. Need you, you treat me so well.”
“I know. I know I do, sweetheart. Rock back for me, yeah? Feel it, feel my cock right here.” You choke on a moan when Eddie feels up your abdomen, stroking the outline of his cock inside you. “Good girl. You can take it.”
His hand wraps back around your throat, fingers pressing into your pulse point before he’s pulling you up by your neck and having you sit on his dick. He chuckles darkly, “Your favorite seat in the house, right? All the way, Y/N. Take it deep for me.”
You shiver when his head pushes against your g-spot, and you realize that shutting your thighs together is absolutely no use when Eddie Munson is balls-deep inside you.
“Oh, f-fuck!” Your voice comes out garbled and raspy as his hold on your throat tightens, bruising yet pleasurable all at once as he pounds into you.
From fucking under bleachers, to the bathrooms in the library, to the back of his van and the floor of your childhood bedroom, you’ve come a long way.
Eddie’s fingers leave your throat and find comfort on your supple waist, digging into your generous hips as you grind on his lap. He meets you halfway with long strokes, slow and purposeful with each thrust of his cock. 
“Y/N, baby… f-fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good. I-I — holy fuck — I’m so lucky I can do this with you.” He whines out, barely coherent, but you can only focus on that one phrase.
Lucky I can do this with you.
“Eddie, fucking hell. Oh, oh my god. P-Please… wanna cum on you.”
“Gonna get you there, baby. Promise. A little longer, yeah? Gotta make you cum before I do.”
Your fingers messily circle over your clit, a combined sensation of pleasure that adds to the feeling of Eddie stretching out your pussy beneath you. He’s holding back his moans, stifling whimpers against your shoulder when his pace starts to quicken and his rhythm grows sloppy.
You tilt your head back and reach for his lips, pulling his face against yours as he continues fucking into you. You still taste yourself on his tongue, and you’d be lying if you denied that you enjoyed the idea of his mouth being on your cunt just moments ago. 
“You’re so pretty.” You whisper against his cheek, watching as his eyes close in bliss. “Fuck, you’re so hot. And I get you all to myself — a cheerleader and her favorite rockstar… oh, you fuck me so well.”
The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick, and your words spur him on even further. He holds you tight against his chest, tattooed hands grasping at your skin and breasts as he feels you clench around his length.
“Close, ain’t you? C’mon, sweet girl. Two for two. Let me feel you cum, Y/N. S’my favorite part.” Eddie nearly topples over when your cunt gives his cock one hard and long squeeze, fingers flying to help you massage your clit as another orgasm pumps through your quivering body. “Holy fuck, you’re so sexy when you cum. S-Shit, I… I gotta pull out…”
You nearly sob from the loss of contact when Eddie leaves you, emptying his seed out across your back and the tenderness of your ass as he grunts quietly behind you. Of course, you make no subtlety to watch him ride out his high — that perfect scowl on his face, the curl on his lip as he moans and runs his thumb over the leaking head of his prick.
“Hoooly fuck…” You sigh out, knees giving out from under you. Thankfully, Eddie catches you at the last second, arm swooping under your stomach before your body can make contact with the floor. “Oh, my god. That was…”
“Yeah, I… I honestly can’t… can’t think right now when there’s cum all over us.” He giggles heartily, leaving a hickey right on your collarbone. “Fuck, your neck is all red and purple.”
“Hot.”
“Not hot, I’m sorry if I was too rough. Just been thinkin’ about you lately, and… well, I guess I couldn’t help myself. Hold still for a sec.”
The admission makes you smirk, and you look back at Eddie as he grabs a random towel from your closet and wipes his spill off of your back. You turn over once he’s finished, arms outstretched over your head as Eddie sits against your bed frame and lazily draws shapes on your calf. 
“You think about me in your free time often, Munson?”
He clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side cutely, “Only when I wanna recall something pretty.”
“Mhm. Sure, rockstar.” You flick at his hand.
“Don’t let it get to your head, miss cheerleader.”
Eddie continues running his fingers up and down your leg, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body as the late midnight seeps through your curtains. You hum as he brings your ankle to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the bone before he’s leaning his head back against the edge of the bed and letting out a tired sigh.
“Wish you could stay the night.” The words that leave you shock you just as much as they do Eddie. “I mean, I just don’t want you driving back so late, y’know.”
“I know.” He takes note of your darting eyes, suddenly evading his amused stare at all costs. He’ll play nice for now. “I’ll see you tomorrow though, just before first period. Wanna see you in your dorky uniform.” 
You gape at him, sitting up with an expression of feigned offense. “Okay, rude. I thought the uniform was hot — like, like every guy’s fantasy kind of hot.”
“Only getting back at you for calling me dungeon master.” He shrugs giddily, before he’s pulling your legs off of his lap then slipping on his wrinkled boxers and jeans. You follow suit, fetching new underwear and a flannel before you prop the window back open while he collects his rings from your bedroom.
Eddie’s belt buckle jangles behind you as you sit on the bench by the windowsill, looking out at the flickering street lamp of your little culdesac. A hand on your hip draws you from your trance, and you’re met with Eddie’s sunken face of an awaiting goodbye.
“Stay safe, Hellfire.” You tease, heart fluttering as he squeezes your side and gently moves you away from the window. You’re unable to tear your gaze away from his arms, admiring the way his tattoos glint on his porcelain skin.
“By the way, best part about this is the drive back.”
“Huh?” You lean over as Eddie clambers out onto your roof, boots nearly slipping on the shingles. “Why’s that?”
He smirks, glancing at the sky before he settles on the details of your face. “Get to think about you all the way home.”
Then, he’s landing on your lawn with two feet and jogging away from your porch, but not without a nerdy wave and a little wink that makes your heart do another somersault similar to when he first knocked his way into your room.
Whatever this is, whatever it’s going to be, you know the both of you are absolutely fucked in the long run. Either way, it doesn’t matter what people will end up thinking. 
You’re so damn into him, even if it is — after all — just a fling. Totally a fling. 
Just a cheerleader and her favorite rockstar. 
13K notes · View notes
mamayan · 9 months
Text
★Mind Break☆
Cult Leader! Tenko Shigaraki x AFAB! Reader
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You should’ve known better than to run from the devil.
WARNING: This work contains depictions of psychological, physical, and emotional torture. Cult ideologies/problematic religious themes will be present throughout this writing, and will include nonconsensual and dubiously consensual sexual content. Abuse, violence, murder, sadism, and blood used even in a sexual context will be present. This story is not a romance, and depicts unhealthy obsessions and mental illness caused by psychological breaks. I am not going to tag this work further. By reading this work, you are agreeing that you understand it will include morally conflicting content and sexually explicit material which can be considered extreme. Read at your own risk, and enjoy. ♡
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It wasn’t always like this.
You shift, abhorring your inability to function properly anymore, trying to make your body comfortable despite the freezing temperature having numbed your muscles into lead.
The metal bed chained and hanging off the damp stone walls seemed to inject ice into the very marrow of your bones. Was there even a point to it?
You distractedly listen to the soft scurry and skitter of mice. That was the point of it.
Everything hurt.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, face blotchy and swollen from the last round you’d given into.
It wasn’t like this before.
Sure, you’d occasionally slip up, and you’d get a swift smack on your ass for causing trouble. Where was that treatment now? It changed when he stepped up. When Father Shigaraki passed the torch to him, your life became a walking nightmare.
Your chest constricted, eyes shutting despite no light illuminating your surroundings as memories flooded. The throbbing in your skull becoming a fist pounding to get out.
When you’d finally gotten old enough, you’d left the compound. Ran away from everything you’d ever known and loved. Your instincts had screamed at you to get away. Tenko had become a man you could not withstand, because despite his treatment towards you, everyone loved him. They had hailed him as the next great leader and prophet, saying that he’d bring them to greatness and no one would’ve believed you. He was hope in the dark world for your community, and that was the sign which showed you that the only way to survive was to distance yourself as far as possible.
You stayed hidden for nearly five years… you truly thought for a moment you were free. You thought he’d forgotten. That your past would let bygones be bygones.
You were sorely mistaken.
You clenched your teeth as the loud sirens began, the noise so sharp and painful it made your head nearly break.
You could only weakly curl up, mind so foggy and disoriented you didn’t hear anything but a constant buzzing tone in your ears as the siren waned into silence again. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve slept. Food was brought but it was merely pushed through a hole at the bottom of your metal door. You got two meals a day, bread and a watery vegetable soup.
The sharp pounding on the door cuts through the tinnitus and has you scrambling off the bed, muscles screaming in protest as your skin splits under the jagged earth you’d thrown yourself onto. Tattered clothing not helping the painful friction as you dig your bare feet into the stone and pushed yourself against a wall.
You weren’t fully cognizant, but as the heavy lock turned, you whined as warm light crawled into your space, nearly blinding you despite the dullness.
“Poor thing…,” his voice was raspier than you remember, more gravely in depth as he chuckles, looking down at your pathetic form curled and shaking.
“How’re you doing my little lamb?” His humor isn’t disguised in the least, his glee at seeing you vulnerable and weak for him obvious as he grins.
He tracks your bloody hands weakly hugging yourself, your bottom lip trembling as you look up under your lashes with those teary eyes he adores so much.
Your small pink tongue dips out to lick your lips, his dark garnet eyes watching intently.
“M-m’cold…” your voice is tiny, hardly audible.
His boots thump loudly as he walks towards you, ignoring how you clearly tense up and attempt to mold yourself into the wall to get away from him. When he’s close enough to nearly touch your bare feet with his boots, he crouches down, resting his forearms on dark denim as he tilts his head with a soft expression.
“Tell me lamb, was it fun out there?” The light against his back blanketed his pale skin in warmth, “Did you have fun in the big wide world, running around, dirtying yourself like some common whore?” You flinch as his tone grows in severity. Blurry vision looking at a familiar yet not face.
He has a scar on his lip, one which hadn’t been there before, crossing straight down.
He was still a beautiful man, the scar even seeming to add a masculine charm to his otherwise somewhat pretty visage. Soft purple rings clung beneath his eyes though, making him look softer somehow. He looked like he’d slept about as much as you.
You stared too long.
You can’t react when his hand shoots out and curls around your neck, fingers and rings digging painfully into your flesh as he cuts off your oxygen cruelly. Your fingers grasp at his wrist and hand, futile in their attempt to pry his death grip off your throat as you slowly suffocate. The pinch and pull of the jewelry he wore was breaking the delicate skin and making it more slippery as blood flowed.
He’s rambling, but it sounds like you’re underwater and he’s above the surface, as if he’s speaking another language.
Tears pool down your cheeks, rivers running freely like your blood as your face begins to take on a sickly dark hue, veins bulging in your face and eyes popping wide from their sockets. A few blood vessels bursting in your left eye.
Just as your vision goes dark, he lets you go.
Your coughing fit which followed nothing glamorous or cute, sputtering and hacking as bile rose but nothing came out. Your throat burned like someone forced you to drink gasoline and swallow a lit match, dropping over to your side by his feet and clutching where he’d left bloody indents.
“Pfft, you haven’t changed at all… I’m glad honestly.”
His boot connects with your side, merciful in the amount of strength exerted but still painful in your weakened state. You sputtered, nearly choking again on your saliva as you tremble and struggle to draw in air.
“No one is going to save you lamb, no one even wants to. When you ran away, you died to everyone here, everyone but me,” you can smell the leather of his shoe as he lifts it and brings it to your head, pushing down until you literally croak. “You should be grateful I’m showing so much grace to you lamb, the others suggested I do much, much worse to rehabilitate you.” His voice is snide while your heart wars with his words. He’s lying, he had to be.
You could only cry though. Sniffling beneath his boot as he lifted it off you, eager to look at your face.
His smile is vile, you note as your tired eyes flick up. He looked nothing like the messenger angel Father Shigaraki had dubbed him before his passing. As your tears blurred his pretty image… he looked like a demon from hell. A beautiful monster.
You weren’t sure what he even wanted from you, what it was he truly craved, but you wanted the pain to end.
Your palms scraped against the damp gravely floor below, finding a somewhat good position to lean your weight on and push your body up, even as your blood created an imbalance due to the slickness. Tenko let you, watching as your head hung in defeat lowered even further, chin tucked to your chest as your knees slid up. When you got to a semi-kneeling position, one hand steadying you on the ground, the other… the other reaching out and gripping his pant leg.
Those red eyes widened a fraction, watching intently as you look up at him from your spot on the floor.
His heart rate increased, pounding in his chest as he drank you in, lips twitching as his teeth ached. He didn’t stop you from using him as an anchor and rising up enough to sink your other hand into his pants too.
You looked like a dog begging for a treat, and his cock throbbed in agreement.
You remembered the degrading title he used to force you to call him when you were younger.
“M-Master…” it was almost inaudible, your sweet lips struggling to even form words after the abuse he leveled your throat.
“Master please…” even as your tears continued to fall, face ruined and messy, he laughed. Deep and boisterous, he nearly doubled over as he bared his white teeth.
“Fuck haha! You—!, okay, alright, what do you want little lamb, hm?” Once he calmed down enough, adrenaline high as he stares down at you with a renewed sense of vigor, he spoke.
He leaned down a bit, cupping your jaw and smiling deeper when you cringe and flinch, but still don’t pull away.
“Go ahead, you got my attention now.” He says it almost benevolently, but his eyes were impatient.
It hurt to swallow, your mouth having gone dry as you parted your lips.
“I want to be forgiven… I’m sorry…”
He lifted one sparse brow up. “Yeah? You’re sorry?” You nod, jerky and short as your neck flames up in pain.
He straights, tapping a finger against his lip in a gesture of consideration.
“Okay little lamb,” he snickers, “I’m willing to forgive you and let you leave here, but you need to be cleaned first.” You perk up, eyes finding a hint of light as the prospect of relief is dangled in front of you.
“Yes, anything please,” you gasp, desperation bleeding into your voice.
That’s why it takes you by surprise when his hands drop and begin to calmly undo his leather belt. Fingers steady and sure as you blankly watch him unbutton his jeans, and shimmy them down enough for his fat leaking cock to spring free.
“Well then, we can start by cleaning this filthy mouth first.” His eyes are closed as he grins, pearly canines on display and distorted features resembling something inhuman.
“T-Tenko…?” His hand not holding his cock swiftly sinks into your hair, easily dragging your face closer so he can slap the hard rod against your soft cheek a few times, the smell of him warm and bitter, contrasted by the damp cool air around you. “That’s not what you call me, is it lamb?” He doesn’t sound angry, but when you look back up, he’s dropped his cock and raised his hand.
The blow is more sharp than it is brute force, your head held in place by his other hand to avoid you collapsing and hitting your head on the floor.
Your cry echoes weakly. Face inflamed as your jerked right back to his groin where he smashes your injured cheek against his dick, rubbing it in as he groans.
“You need to be retaught manners too it seems, but we’ll just stick with a simple cleaning today.”
He’s speaking as if discussing a mundane topic like the weather, scolding you like one might scold a child in school. His tip rubbing and spreading pre-cum and tears across your face as you calm down from the pain he assaulted you with.
“Open your mouth.” He’s not asking but you obey and part your lips.
He holds a lot of your weight up by your hair, watching in fascination as his swollen mushroom tip rests against your bottom lip. His engorged meat rod looks insidious against your face pretty, thick veins protruding from the angry red of the skin, long and thick but tapering towards the tip a little where it curves up. He lets his hips tip, the tip entering your warm wet cavern, lips opening wider as he sinks about a quarter inside.
Your face scrunches, likely due to the sensation and taste of him, little tongue moving languidly against the underside of his shaft. He curses, bucking his hips a little more and arm exerting force when you attempt to pull back.
You whine around him, hands trying to push his hips back but too weak to prevent him from sliding out and doing it again.
“That’s it lamb, I’m just cleaning your mouth, relax~” he chuckles, Tenko’s grip in your hair tightening painfully as he begins testing your limits with depth and speed.
“I wouldn’t have to do this if, fuck, you just stayed home where you belong like a good girl,” he moans, your teeth accidentally grazing his cock but it seems to spur him on rather than flinch in pain.
“Shit, that’s it, go ahead and bite if you feel like dealing with a concussion, I’ll break your skull on this floor happily.” He’s sneering down at you, loving the fear which enters your gaze as you now struggle to open wider and avoid such a fate. It only helps him work his cock deeper, into your throat where you almost scream due to the blinding pain.
His earlier damage still too fresh as he loses it moaning, your slobber and blood now coating his cock and bringing delicious friction as he lets his tip tease your raw throat. His balls tap against the under side of your chin, his white pubic hair nearly tickling inside your nose as he tries to fit all of himself inside your mouth.
The noises you made would make any normal person stop. The painful howls muffled by his cock and stuffed back down your throat, his speed increasing as his balls drew tight.
“Have to keep you clean inside and out lamb, so you’re going to take every drop—,” his teeth are grit, grinding together as his orgasm washes over him, hot ropes of cum gagging and suffocating you again as he lets his cock rest inside your throat while he finishes. You don’t feel the cum, only him twitch as he empties his load into your belly.
Your eyes stare blankly at nothing. Dark spots dotting your vision even when he pulls out and pushes you off him.
You land on your side, wheezing and clutching your throat again as you blink away the darkness threatening to consume you, your adrenaline keeping you awake as Tenko crouches down beside you again.
He’d redressed, looking unfazed with a healthy pink hue to his cheeks now.
“C-can I leave now…?” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own now. Each syllable grating on your damaged flesh.
“Why the fuck would I let you leave?” His words nearly stop your heart. Icy dread replacing the burning.
“Y-you said…” your eyes leaked, face showing your absolute shock and disbelief.
He laughed, standing up again, shoving his hands in his pockets as he smiled down at you.
“I lied.”
His lips tug higher as he leaves, locking you away again even as your wail echoes woefully throughout his hideout.
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Invisible needles stabbed up your knees, waking you up more than the blaring white light.
You wanted out, away from this migraine inducing brightness, but all you could do was pray.
As a child, you’d preferred to sleep or pass notes around rather than be immersed in devotional. You wished you paid more attention, because only God could save you from this hell.
You flinched, startling yourself as shadows stretched and danced around the walls, despite the fluorescents preventing such things from being cast.
Your arms wrap around yourself, kneeling and hunched over as the visions continued even when you closed your eyes. Faceless dark creatures trying to pry into your mind as you scream, the noise bouncing back and slamming into your sensitive eardrums, breaking you from the moment.
They were gone, your weary eyes tracked, licking your dry chapped lips and imagining how nice it would be to have some sort of lip balm or lotion.
Your head bowed again, lips running through carefully memorized prayers as events from your past unfurl like a blooming rose. Each petal a fractured piece you try to suppress and fail, the voice of your therapist so distant now since you’ve been home.
Deep breathes led to panic attacks and unconsciousness, the faces of family and friends skewed into wicked distortions you struggled to differentiate between dream and reality.
Tenko remained vivid in your memories though. You grimaced, as it was likely due to the pain he inflicted in your youth, which seared into your subconscious as a warning for any future interactions. Humans rarely touch a hot stove twice.
You shake and tremble as time drags on, murmuring scripture from memory as best you can to ask for grace, pleading for your safe release.
Tiny patters catch your attention, eyes blinking open and staring at a small mouse. Soft tuffs of light brown fur, the little creature might’ve invoked disgust and fear before your capture, but now only bland curiosity filled you.
It scurried around for a while, sniffing at the metal tray left by a thin hole on the bottom of the door, looking for crumbs it would not find.
It was… abhorrently cute.
You returned to prayer, until your evening meal arrived and was silently exchanged, your eyes catching not even a glimpse of skin.
You shuffled awkwardly before the tray, decorum gone as you eat with need for survival instead of enjoyment, eyes steely and swirling almost violently as a tiny squeak draws your attention down.
The mouse. Tiny pinpoint dark eyes and a little pink twitching nose face you.
You should kill it. It likely had diseases or something else, it’s better of dead but…
Something inside prevents you, and instead you drop a few crumbs of bread.
It was all you could spare. The little creature isn’t wasteful though, eating with gusto unlike you as you watch in mild amusement.
“If you like the food so much, we should switch places,” you whisper jokingly, the mouse ignoring you in favor of licking and sniffing out even the most minuscule piece of food left.
You finish your meal too, however unsatisfying and unfulfilling.
Your eyes close shut even though the light disallows you any proper rest, mind shutting off like a device to power down.
Your hazy brain reboots at the sound of footsteps some time later, obnoxious compared to the ones belonging to the one in charge of food delivery.
Tenko, your brain unhelpfully supplies. You don’t want to see him. You want nothing to do with him or this compound anymore, but your body was beginning to associate him with more than just pain.
He was warm, physically speaking at least, and the skin on skin contact left you reeling with comfort you didn’t want to receive from him. He’s a lunatic and a psychopath, and you loathe him like none other, but the terror of him is equal to the hatred.
Your new friend abandons you as the locks turn, your eyes trailing up from the ground to watch as the door slowly swings open, revealing the man who haunts even your dreams.
“Hello little lamb, did you miss me?”
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Each wobbly step felt like treading over broken glass.
You could hardly stand, legs truly unused to the feeling as you’d given up your mad pacing in favor of protecting the damaged soles of your feet.
Not anymore though, as the hand tangled in your locks jerked you onward, using your hair almost like a lead as you stare at the filthy floor you traverse on, destination left an anxiety filled mystery.
“Come on little lamb~ we’re nearly there,” his soft cooing voice makes your insides revolt, twisting and causing you to stumble.
At least he’s there to make sure your face doesn’t hit the hard surface of the ground, oddly powerful in his lean physique as he simply holds up your weight and pulls you along side him.
He’s merry and cheerful, whistling occasionally as he strolls as if through a friendly neighborhood park and not some type of underground dungeon only found in medieval theatrics.
Your eyes trail back at the light smattering of your blood on the floor, wearily looking as far ahead as you could in this half crouched position.
It was dimmer out here than your cell. The blaring alarms replaced by white hot light that seared your mind awake and deprived you of sleep further.
Out here the shadows danced. Your eyes fearfully taking in the monsters beginning to crawl off the walls and towards you, just out of reach though, as if Tenko was holding them back.
That scared you even more.
A new room came up just at the end of the hall, a shorter distance than you’d felt it was.
He hauled you forward and threw you inside before dim lights illuminated the space from an antique switch on the wall.
There was only a chandelier in here, you noted before the breath left your lungs on impact with the ground, side blaring up in pain as you lay still.
Your eyes widen, pupils dilating as strange staticky figures moved about the space, the room swirling like a whirlpool of colors before you were yanked up and out of the fever dream.
Tenko was humming some sort of hymn, his deep timber almost soothing despite his violent manner of dragging you towards a small in-ground pool.
A baptism pool, with steps leading into the shallow water with a metal railing for assistance, likely for the elderly.
Your vision seemed to jump back and forth between the water being a dark blue and bloody red, unintentionally jerking in Tenko’s hold.
He seems to misinterpret it, “It’s okay lamb, I’ll be baptizing you tonight, washing the sins of the outside world which tainted you away.” You want to bark at his delusional little speech, to roll your eyes or do something, but you’re silent like a doll in his hold. Weak. Pathetic. Worthless. Powerless.
He lets you drop, in favor of scooping you up bridal style in his arms, your filthy sorry figure truly in need of a bath you’ve been denied thus far.
He’s not the least bit repulsed, seeming even thrilled to hold you close as he smiles his pearly white canines at you.
“Look at you, being so good for me. I almost want to reward you,” he chuckles, face calm and even as he takes you both fully clothed into the shockingly cold water.
He doesn’t even flinch.
You’re unable to do much else but gasp, curling into Tenko’s warm chest as chills immediately wrack your body.
Once he’s about waist deep, he extends his arms and lets your feet sink down, one hand spread between your shoulder blades and keeping you up.
Those red hued eyes truly seemed to manifest evil, the dim lighting not dampening the color’s vibrance. He looks like a malevolent angel.
“Are you ready? You’ll need to hold your breath for just a little while I recite the passage.”
Something inside is trying to worm itself out past your lips, begging you to speak up, move away, not trust him.
You can’t seem to remember exactly why as you nod numbly.
Until his free hand raises up, pressed against your chest just under your collarbone and caging your upper body between his hands.
His smile is almost serene.
Then you’re submerged, just barely enough time to hold your breath while the chilling liquid around you wakes you.
Your eyes blink open despite the chlorine burning them, seeing him through a strange mirage now, lips moving and canted up.
Your chest starts to hurt after ten seconds. Then it’s a somewhat urgent need after twenty.
At thirty your instincts take hold and you struggle, air being pushed out meanly by his hand as he applies pressure to still you.
It’s impossible though, you need to breathe. You need it with urgency as your feet kick out, arms coming up to fight and remove his grip, but he just keeps you under. The adrenaline wins though, finally pushing him roughly so you can come up for greedy gulps of air, choking and sputtering while the rooms spins and nausea grips you.
“You didn’t even last a minute lamb,” he remarks offhandedly, and your near drowning reminds you why he is to be feared like death itself because his next move is to grip your throat, the other tangling back in your hair while he smiles down at you, face cinching unnaturally tight as he leans over your panting trembling figure.
“How about this? If you can last a minute, we’ll stop.”
Liar, your heart and mind roar with passion, but your survival instincts demand you do so because it meant life or death.
He doesn’t prepare you this time, sinking you under while his laugh filters through the water into a muddled tune as you fail to even last thirty seconds this time, clawing and biting like a wounded animal as your vision begins to go dark and lungs threaten to shut down.
He yanks you back up, just enough time to gather in air before you’re plunged again, vision beginning to fade as those horrid shadow creatures emerge, almost playfully as you dance around suffocation.
Your mind is playing tricks, these devils aren’t real, not when the one above you is flesh and bone attempting to end your miserable existence.
You’re dragged to the surface again, fighting for freedom from the death grip which holds you in the water as you lash out, a war cry almost deafening to your own sensitive ears.
It’s impossible to tell how long it goes on, your will for survival being challenged by a soul deep exhaustion, finger nails soaked in blood from scratching at his arms and even his bared skin around his throat and chest.
He’s content to watch the inevitable. The moment when your mind releases the concoction of chemicals to ease your death peacefully, because it could fight no longer as he repeatedly drowns you.
His eyes gleam with wicked joy, pupils enlarged as he pushes you beneath the water again, you’re thrashing so much more futile despite how you still struggled. You still wanted to live.
It’s inevitable though, when your vision goes dark, creeping in at the edges and swallowing your sight hole as a painless numbness washes over you.
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You begin to hear again first. Strange warbled noises and hissing. Your foggy mind is content to drift, light as you feel rested and freed from the confines of agony which plagued you like a disease so long.
It sounds pained, the noises, the strange squelching and smacking not connecting as you languidly listen and try to decipher what was occurring around you.
Your vision returns next. Slowly, as if not to frighten you, your eyes begin to take in more and more light. Faded blurry shapes and colors becoming clarified into a full picture you could actually make out.
You were on the ground, this floor tiled like you’d see around a public pool. Face resting down as you looked at a familiar baptism pool which began filling your mind with dread.
The water was rippling, your eyes noting that the room was rocking.
Feeling came back last. You felt the chilly air slowly prick at your wet skin and hair, teeth sensitive as you felt your body rock, pressure and numbness beginning to fade into true feeling. Your hand was out stretched and dipped into the water, as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully pull you out, the cool liquid somewhat refreshing as your skin felt hot and feverish.
A blooming white hot pain in your rear caught your full attention though, body too weak to even manage words as you lay limp on the ground, realization dawning as full frontal clarity strikes you like a branding iron.
“Awake?” He muses, hand moving to press your face back down when you attempted to lift your head, not bothering to lessen his crushing weight as you choke and heave. Your eyes can only widen further, looking up at the mirrors which acted as a backdrop to the the pool to see your body and not recognize it. Not recognize you. As if this was all happening to another as he grunts, the hot iron rod which continued its path inside your taunt previously unused sphincter as you groan low in your throat like a wounded animal. Your own native language foreign in your mind as it goes blank to only focus on the mirrors.
His pretty face screwed up in pleasure, his tongue nearly hanging out his mouth as he pants and works his hips against you, more of a struggle to fully sheath himself inside your bleeding rectum due to the lack of preparation he’d done. The stretched ring of muscle inflamed as he lets a drop of spit hit just above it and slide around his cock as he grips your hips.
“You have such a tight little ass—fuck—,” his head drops, hair falling into his face as he watches you take him, pulling out occasionally to see how wide he’s left your abused asshole.
“—p-please—,” you brokenly whimper the words, still unable to fathom why this all was happening. What did you do?
It didn’t matter, not when his thrusts were getting rougher, thick cock spearing you and nearly tearing you open as he grunts and moans above you.
“Keep begging lamb, I want to hear it,” he chuckles, and your vision becomes blurred with tears you can’t even wipe away. Too tired and hurt. You wanted to sleep again.
He doesn’t like your unresponsiveness though, bucking hard and digging his knees into the ground to scoot you up.
You shriek as he pushes your torso back into the water, hand tangled in your hair as he cackles now, deranged expression lighting up at the break in your stoic facade.
“I-I’m sorry—!” Your voice is broken and raspy as you cry out, hands trying to keep him from pushing your head back into the water as his cock begins slamming inside you aggressively.
Blood, spit, and his earlier load he’d jerked and shot over your unconscious figure frothed at the base of his cock as he sinks inside you.
“Start begging lamb!” He moans as you tighten in fear and panic, senseless babbling too quick and jumbled for him to truly appreciate.
“Tsk, that’s not how you beg—fucking idiot,” he sighs, ruthless as he shoves you beneath the water again. Enjoying your futile struggle as your hips jerk and work his cock with delicious friction inside your rigid hot walls.
“Fuck yes, tighten your ass slut, that’s it!” He’s close just from watching you struggle.
Your eyes are open, staring at the bottom of the pool as he abuses your hole above the surface, oxygen deprived and delirious until he yanks your head up.
He moans loudly when you cough and sputter water out, the suction of your walls driving him wild as his thrusts become more jerky and uneven.
“O-oh God please—!” You can only sob for mercy, praying to be saved from the purgatory that is Tenko Shigaraki.
“Yes—! Pray to me baby, because I. Am. Your. Fucking. God.” He growls and punctuates each word with a merciless thrust, pushing you under one last time as he grinds his groin against your soft rear and pumps his load deep inside.
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Bleary eyes blink open to dim lighting, seeing a familiar cell from the position of the metal bed.
Your head ached like it might split open any second, but your soul felt the most damaged.
You could only whimper and whine as you sat your stiffened body up, muscles screaming in protest as you stood before collapsing to the ground below.
It was a miserable reality as you dragged yourself over to the little toilet in the corner, attempting to relieve yourself but only finding the water saturated with murky red and clots.
The little sink difficult to use as a wash station, as you cup the icy water, for once grateful for it, and let it wash down your battered form.
It took what seemed like forever to clean away the evidence of him, but as you looked around, you realized blandly there were no clothes for you anymore.
What you’d worn to the… baptism, had been stripped in your unconscious state. He didn’t seem to feel like returning the tattered rags.
You crossed the room, laying beneath the metal bed now, content with just sitting with the low hum of aches inside and out of you. Curled on your side, you sit and watch the door in the dim orange glow of the lights.
They turned off the white fluorescents, which meant the noise would come soon.
It did, not long after that thought, the wailing siren began as you numbly looked ahead, no longer flinching at the noise.
Hours seemed to pass before your food arrived, which you crawled towards, content with eating on your stomach as you rested.
It was the familiar squeak which granted your friend the favor of seeing your face.
Your little mouse came just on time for… whatever meal this was. You hardly paid mind to it, throwing a few generous crumbs for your mouse like a gracious host.
“You should feel honored mouse, this is the finest bread they serve here.” Your giggle is slurred as you bite into the stale bread, mouth dry and the baked good only acting as sandpaper.
You finished it all though. Your mouse not one to be beat either, leaving no trace of the crumbs you’d left for it.
You smiled, content to watch it skitter about, before it curiously moved closer to you.
Then a little closer.
Then it was sniffing your finger, flinching back at first when you lift it, but coming back anyway as you softly pat its tiny head with the tip of your pointer.
“Am I all you got down here…?” You imagine those beady little eyes filled with intelligence and understanding.
“That’s okay. We can stick together.” It’s whispered like a sworn secret.
You let your eyes fall closed, trusting mouse not to attempt to nibble on you while you slept.
You awoke with a jolt, heart beating wildly in your chest as shadows rampaged around the room, the sound of the siren wailing as you try and scramble away from the chaos.
They were everywhere, trying to grab you, actually grabbing you, your scream of fright falling on empty halls as you struggle with your sanity.
Your legs kick out, arms thrashing as you attempt to fight off these morphing demons, hazy mind fighting for some sense of reason despite the madness.
A clawed hand reached at you from below, your palm instinctively coming down to smack it away in your panic.
The siren ends, and with it, the shadows seem to disperse as you pant and try to catch your breath, dizziness and fatigue weighing on you as your fingers rub together and feel something… stinky.
Your heart stops. The world seems to as well.
“Mouse…?”
It’s not real. Yet the little brown clump of fur and dark blood and guts could only be the dead body of your tiny friend.
“Mouse— I-I didn’t mean it— wait, why?!” Your shriek echoes, blood on your hand streaking your cheek now as you wail in anguish, careful to lift up the mangled corpse you’d crushed.
You did this. You hurt it. It was your fault.
It felt like you were being shattered. Screaming until you couldn’t anymore, coughing up blood from your raw and abused throat, clinging to your cooling friend as time became irrelevant.
Food came and went. You didn’t touch it. You didn’t know how many trays were given and taken away without a single piece touched, but it finally summoned him.
Heavy boots were your first clue, eyes still following shadows of little mice dancing around you.
The door opening changed the direction of your gaze as Tenko stepped inside, face impassive this time as he looks at you.
His presence invokes the tears which bubble and spill down your cheeks, quick to crawl on your knees to him like he was your last salvation.
“Please—,” your lower lip wobbled as your scratchy small voice broke the silence. “She’s hurt… I hurt her… please…” and he watched.
Watched the lovely little angel he adored lose her wings and fall to the depths of hell where he ruled.
“Shh… it’s okay, I’m here. Let me see,” he crouches down, smile soft and soothing to your frayed nerves, one hand moving to tuck a matted and tangled chunk of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t seem the least bit repulsed by the decomposing mouse corpse you held. Eyes focused and attentive on you, as you cried and confessed the sin of murder to him.
Like he was your God.
He wrapped you up in his arms, carrying you out as you sobbed weakly for mercy and forgiveness… for the little mouse and for your crime of harming it.
Your face buried in his neck, breathing in the scent of bleach and chemicals like it was fresh air.
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You were curled up in a ball, rocking yourself comfortingly as you trembled in fear before hallucinations so real you weren’t able to differentiate anymore. Shadow monsters haunting you at every second except when he was around, trying to crawl into your mind and destroy you completely.
Your hands ran through your hair, clean now as Master had been returning nearly everyday to bathe you with him.
He should be back soon.
You glance at the bed and clean living space, somehow so foreign and alien that you feel terrified of even laying on it without him.
You hum a familiar hymn, counting the seconds until these demons are cast out in his presence.
Your soft skin is naked and bare, but the room is warm despite phantom goosebumps raising.
The door opens, boots muted on the fluffy carpet, strolling towards you with ease and grace as you unfurl and crawl towards him.
“Little lamb, did you miss me?” His cherry red eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief, glossy white hair swept back save a few strays which framed his face.
Your smile is genuine as you nod, “Welcome back Master.”
He watches you with immense satisfaction, your skin and hair healthier now that you’ve been rehabilitated and given proper nutrition and care.
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You sit perfectly still, nude body on display for thousands of eyes. The solemn atmosphere disallows for embarrassment as Master speaks, voice carrying his message and voice of God for the people.
“With this sacrifice, let our sins be washed in blood!” his arms spread wide, the cheer of the church deafening yet you move not a single muscle.
You don’t watch, even as the muffled screams become gurgled sounds of drowning.
The sacrifice had to be a damned sinner, one Master deemed better off sent to Heaven early. Dying for the church like this meant even though they were unclean, they could still find salvation through their death. It wasn’t anything new, even as a child you’d witnessed such things.
You cease useless thoughts, eyes trained on him.
He caught your gaze, eyes crinkling as he grins before winking.
They smear the freshly spilled blood over you, hooded masked members wordlessly carrying out the ritual.
“Now the blood of a virgin needs to be spilled…” he murmurs for heads to bow, prayer beginning but you don’t close your eyes, staring out blankly as iron burns your nostrils.
Your skin painted with the blood of a sinner, laid dead on another alter, which you let yourself skip from staring at.
The prayer finishes as Master rises, turning his attention on you as he walks your way. His clothing is all white, current appearance similar to a saint as he approaches.
“Little lamb,” he smoothes a hand through your soft hair with affection, bright red eyes nearly glowing as he leans close, undeterred by the blood coating your cheeks, lips, forehead, and major portions of your body. “Are you ready to be slaughtered?”
A chant in the crowd begins. Hummed at first, building in volume, the words ominous. “Lamb for slaughter.”
You briefly wonder if you’re next, just like the man they’d gutted next to you.
You nod anyway. It hardly mattered whatever he chose to do with you.
Your eyes still widened in surprise as he pushed you gently to lay back on the alter, as he climbed up as well before his people watching with heated gazes.
Master grins, looking sinister and beautiful as he licks his lips and addresses the masses.
“I shall now make the virgin bleed,” you don’t question him as he easily spreads your thighs open, leaving your slit on full view for the crowd and his own eyes.
“Be good for me lamb, I know you can do it,” these words are hushed and spoken just for you, as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The action is soothing, and you allow your muscles to relax as you watch the crowd with a mixture of emotion.
Were they real or shadows?
You jolt as you feel something hot and wet prod your vaginal entrance, looking down to see Master had freed his heavy thick cock, erect and leaking from the dark red tip as he pumps it with his free hand a few times.
Then he lets the soft warm tip slip through your folds, parting them to press.
It takes immense force that leaves your chest heaving for air as your finger nails chip and break on the marble alter, body wracked with the intense desire to cringe and pull away.
You stay still, as he grunts pushing into your dry walls, essentially digging his cock inside your cunt to burrow deep.
You’re hardly breathing anymore, face frozen in agony as he stuffed you with each searing inch as you grit your teeth and endured.
The chanting was muted by the muddled noise in your head, like water in your ears, as tears slid down your cheeks.
He pulls out completely once his tip kisses your cervix. His cock coated in a sheen of your blood, though whether it was actually your hymen or the tearing of your vaginal walls was not important. It was the symbolism.
He lets his people take in the sight of you both, feeling pride swell inside him as they grow wild with excitement, moving to close in around you both now. The elders stayed back, their robes and masks in place as they continued the chant while the younger and common members touched and groped your trembling body, smearing the blood and even moving it down to your slit where you jerked a little.
“Be gentle with my lamb, tonight, I make her my wife on this auspicious occasion.” His teeth are sharp and glaring as he smiles, your eyes watching as if behind a screen.
What day was it? You wondered oddly, curious why you couldn’t recall it at all.
Master begins disrobing, shamelessly revealing each inch of his lean muscular build for all eyes as he falls on you again, this time caging your view in to only see him.
Your eyes connect, his alight with joy. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you stupid tonight.” He whispers in your ear, too low for anyone else to pick up on, using the position to lick the shell of it as you moan at the strange sensation.
He uses one arm to stay propped above you, letting the other move towards the hooded hard nub just above your slit, pressing softly and rubbing circles as electric shocks of pleasure zap up your spine. Your toes cramp as you try to straighten, but his hips smashing against you ass he sinks into you again stop your movements.
Your eyes widen in shock.
It doesn’t hurt at all.
It’s strange, the fullness still heavy and different, but the sting and ache are gone as he uses the blood of that scapegoat as lube to fuck your pretty cunt.
Tenko laughs as your eyes glaze over, face already showing the euphoria as he works your clit and his cock slowly into you, taking his time this round without the necessity of injuring you.
His gaze even gentle as he almost lovingly fucks you, the terrified expression on your face amusing at the very least for him.
“Relax lamb, we got the pain out of the way, just keep your legs spread for me and I’ll do all the work.” He assures, and like always, you fall for it.
He works you both to climax quickly, chuckling as you clamp and seize around his cock helplessly.
Your hands gripping at his shoulders as he leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue in your mouth for a filthy kiss that leaves you light headed and pliant as he hardens again inside you.
You glance down wearily, his hips grinding back into you as his finger works your clit again.
“Let’s feel so good we both want to die.” Those red eyes seal your fate.
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“Tenko! Stop breaking your toys, I’m not gonna share mine if you do.” Small childish and chubby hands grip at his own, tugging the toy owned by you from his grasp as he eyes you with disdain not matching a child his age.
“I have to break them.” He rolls his eyes, picking up the disfigured doll he’d “fixed” given to him by his previous family. The ones before his Master Father Shigaraki took him in.
“Why? That’s stupid.” You retort, obnoxious as you try to hide your dolls as if he even wanted them.
“Because if I don’t break it, then how is it even really mine?”
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Post dividers/@cafekitsune
A/N:
I hope you enjoyed this piece! It was very self indulgent if I’m being honest~
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lains-reality · 11 months
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hi!! i’m this anon, https://www.tumblr.com/lains-reality/723844364791676928/hi-i-hope-youre-having-a-wonderful-day-youre
about the difficult circumstances :)
i’ve followed your advice, and just rested. whenever i had moments/situations that brought up stress, i began to exercise this feeling of completion/bliss. ever since then, my health has been stabilizing. i took a break from tumblr/over-consuming, and just asked myself “what am i?” “who am i?”. i would let my thoughts go, attaching no meaning, nor identifying with them. i would observe them- in an almost manner of meditation. i started to feel lighter, as i no longer identified with the body. while doing such “exercises”, i found that i “tapped into the void” within minutes of doing so. it was so peaceful, and i had no urge to affirm- which even though my ego thinks my life is still far from perfect, i could care less.
i feel a sort of indifference to what used to seem problematic. i now understand, that there is no “convincing” myself of something, when i am already it. i’ve been “documenting” what works best for me- just because i might have brain damage lol, but what i’ve found is when i am in full acceptance of both the desirable and undesirable, it happens instantly- or within a day. just now, i noticed my collar bone feeling fleshy or the skin around it inflamed- which was one of the major symptoms i faced when i had cancer. my whole collar bone to face just puffed up like a pufferfish. in that moment, i knew who i TRULY was- I AM. God. i didn’t care if my collar bone wasn’t prominent or not- i just KNEW that it was normal, and prominent. literally not even a minute later, i touched my collar bone while scratching my neck- AND THE SWELLING WAS COMPLETELY GONE, IT WAS JUST BONE.
So, for me- what worked was knowing there was no conviction necessary, i am already everything, the good and the bad. thoughts and day dreams have no effect on me unless i identify with them- or personally give them power. no effort, and just complete ease and bliss. the past, and future do not exist- and only affect the present, when identified. indifference was the “biggest” aha moment for me.
I realized, each time I affirmed/thought of something- then let go, and gave it no more attention, it appeared (instantly). for problems, i just forgot of it. i disregarded it- and then bam. gone. since my last experience with the void, i knew since then that everything was perfect with my relationship regarding the void. i always wake up in it, everything perfect for me- i’m aware, blah blah blah. and that’s how it’s “manifested!”. i don’t even think of it any more. ever since that indifference feeling/knowing came- life has been soooo different.
during times of meditation, or of just observing my thoughts and letting them pass- is when i truly began to understand non-dualism. that’s when the knowing came for me. taking accountability and responsibility, and knowing everything is as temporary as night and day. i still have to “fix” my problems with school and university, but i know that is my ego talking. it is already done because i am it. i’m (my ego) is a bit worried if i will properly fix my problems, but after proving what lester, and all the info i’ve consumed (from blog to blog), i truly understand that there is no problem until i think i have a problem. my problems are as an easy fix as my situation with my collar bone.
i’ve also “fixed” my relationship with my mother, and grandparents. they now truly have realized the abuse that is in my household, and are 100% into supporting me, and protecting me. i was so surprised, because they would usually just ignore it and normalize it. especially my mother. all i’ve wanted was my mom- to actually be a mom. and now she is. even though there were moments where my ego wanted to cuss her out and identify as having a bad mother, i thought of it as nonsense, and now our entire dynamic has changed. i can’t really get into it without trauma dumping- but it’s been my wish since i was a child. she has truly changed and grown. even my therapist was shocked, and happy for me! i’ve been trying to “manifest” a change in her, for about 3 years- and after applying little to no effort, through what i’ve mentioned above- everything has changed.
(also “manifested” appearance changes, health to be completely perfect, my safety, perfect grades (literally all A+ or straight up 100%s loll, my pets health, and many other things. literally we all “manifest” our entire day just by identification)
i believe, or what has been true personally to me, about the reason behind the struggle of changing anything- even after seeing confirmation of one’s true power, is because it wasn’t a “big” enough accomplishment. they/me have put problems and “desires” on a pedestal- thinking it will be a varying degree to alter, than let’s say the weather. but it is all the same. everything holds the same balance. it is just the ego that convinces you that it does not. we literally shape our “today” and “tomorrow” from memory and identification. when i’ve thought/knew what my tomorrow would be- that is how it was.
i just wanted to say thank you to your kind response to my ask, last time. i know that it wasn’t easy- and i’m so sorry if i’ve caused anyone to feel any negative emotions. i also wanted to say thank you to your- and every other bloggers dedication to helping anons, and continuously posting the truth. you, and adasdisciple (idk how to do the @ thing, im so sorry!!!) as well as, 4dkelly something (i hope they may see this! i apologize for not remembering your user😭) have aided in ways not even professionals, or other bloggers have. my life has done a true 180- and i know it’s only going to get better from here on out. i appreciate everyone’s kindness to my first post, it truly warmed my heart to see so many people sympathizing with my ask. not many people have reacted with such genuine sweetness. thank you so much!! i’m fr feeling on top of the world 😋
wow! i'm so proud of you!!! speechless tbh!
i'll tag them here for you: @adadisciple, @4dkellysworld
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nebuladreamerrr · 21 days
Note
Holaaa can I request another Mbappe imagine where you’re married to Kylian but somehow his family never noticed that you don’t drink. While you’re at his parent’s house and his mom offers you wine you told her no thanks. And she got a mini heart attack thinking you were announcing that you’re pregnant😂
I hope you like it, sweetheart ❤️❤️❤️
Problematic beverage| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader
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Summary: To commemorate you and Kylian's last night in France you decide to have a farewell dinner, but one drink will set off alarm bells among all the guests.
Warnings: English is not my first language, and I am not a doctor so some medical information might be wrong. 
As I indulged in a tranquil shower and meticulously selected my attire for the upcoming occasion, a sense of gratitude washed over me knowing that the celebration would be held at my mother-in-law's residence. While venturing out to explore new culinary delights with Kylian was a beloved pastime, today, the allure of a cozy night at home held greater appeal.
Since the morning, I had been grappling with slight abdominal discomfort, but it was the violent expulsion of my breakfast that sent alarm bells ringing. A sigh escaped my lips, a reflexive response to the familiar discomfort that had plagued me since childhood. From a young age, I had endured sporadic bouts of stomach pain, often coinciding with stressful events like ballet competitions or pivotal exams.
My mother, recognizing the pattern of discomfort over time and the occasional severity of the pain, decided to seek medical advice. It was then confirmed by the doctor that I was suffering from chronic pancreatitis. Fortunately, this diagnosis did not thwart my aspirations nor impede my plans. Nevertheless, there were limitations imposed by my condition, one of them being the prohibition of alcohol consumption.
I vividly recall the bewildered expression on my face when the doctor delivered the news that alcohol was off-limits due to its potential exacerbation of my condition. Despite having never partaken in revelry or imbibed alcohol, I comprehended its central role in youthful socialization. I anticipated feeling excluded and feared it would hinder my ability to forge friendships. However, fortune smiled upon me as I found companions who reveled in diverse activities, such as leisurely picnics punctuated by impromptu art sessions and beach outings adorned with sunset photography. While occasional forays into nightlife did occur, they were infrequent. Moreover, my aversion to alcohol transcended mere medical necessity; it stemmed from a profound apprehension regarding its transformative effects on individuals, a sentiment that prompted a steadfast commitment to abstention.
I crossed paths with Kylian at a charity gala where young French athletes, each with an inspiring tale to share, were invited to engage with children and organize activities, with the proceeds earmarked for various charitable causes. His speech resonated deeply with me, capturing both his pride and underlying sense of unease at being in the spotlight. His exact words, etched in my memory, were: "It's in these moments that I often feel out of place because, despite many of you seeking wisdom from me, it's I who must truly learn from all of you and your resilience in the face of adversity." Fortunately, I also captured his attention. When my presentation concluded, he couldn't resist approaching me, ostensibly to delve deeper into my world as we leisurely meandered through the buffet arrayed by the gala's organizers.
His heart nearly skipped a beat when I declined his offer of wine, yet my reassuring smile assuaged his concern as I disclosed my health condition, explaining the potential ramifications of alcohol consumption. Eager to learn more about me, Kylian exhibited a genuine interest in every facet of my life: from my ballet classes and training regimen to the nuances of my medication routine and anything remotely connected to me. Thus, a swift friendship blossomed between us, evolving into a profound romantic bond over the course of just a few months—a connection I wouldn't trade for anything in this world.
Four years ago, when we embarked on our relationship, we were both young and full of energy. Kylian, in particular, made the most of his free time by hanging out with friends, often leading to lively gatherings. Despite this, Kylian maintained a sense of discipline and restraint when it came to alcohol consumption. Instances of indulgence were typically reserved for national festivities or significant triumphs for his team or the national squad. However, everything changed when he met me. Suddenly, I became his top priority.
Kylian's transformation was profound. He meticulously documented all of my medications in a calendar, ensuring that I adhered to my prescribed regimen. If he couldn't be present when I needed to take my medication, he set an alarm to remind me. Additionally, he curtailed his social outings significantly, and on many occasions, he refused to attend events if I couldn't accompany him. When we did venture out together, our excursions were brief, as Kylian was adamant about not subjecting me to any discomfort.
On our wedding day, Kylian solemnly declared that his every decision would revolve around me, promising never to take any action that didn't prioritize my well-being above all else.
Thankfully, my illness never prevented me from attending any of Kylian's games. He cherished my presence, considering me his "lucky charm." It was through these matches that I had the pleasure of meeting my in-laws, whom Kylian introduced me to after one such game. As the Ligue 1 season progressed, so did my relationship with his parents, and I couldn't help but feel blessed by the bond we shared. Kylian's parents took immense pride in their son's career, and when I mentioned my occasional ballet performances, they eagerly pledged their attendance at my next show. This promise was fulfilled a few months ago when I took to the stage, greeted by the sight of my partner and his parents in the audience.
The decision to depart from France proved to be a challenging ordeal for both of us. It was a place that held significance for each of us individually; for Kylian, it was where he found trust and unwavering support, particularly during his darkest moments. Likewise, for me, it served as the backdrop for my personal and artistic growth, particularly in my beloved pursuit of ballet. However, I was acutely aware that leaving France would entail a narrowing of job prospects, given that few other nations accorded dance, especially ballet, the same level of priority.
Thus, when Kylian broached the idea of a modest gathering to mark the conclusion of a significant chapter in our lives, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. Initially slated to unfold at a private restaurant in the heart of Paris, a venue Kylian frequented with his friends and where he once celebrated his maiden PSG paycheck, the plans swiftly shifted. Sensing my discomfort on the eve of the event, Kylian promptly altered course, opting instead to host the gathering at his mother's residence—a more proximate locale to our abode. Here, I could seek respite in the guest room if my discomfort intensified, shielded from any prying eyes or unwelcome scrutiny.
With a sense of urgency, I hastened to complete my preparations, summoning Kylian to assist with the delicate task of fastening the gray satin dress adorning my frame. His admiring whistle upon beholding me in the garment, accompanied by the endearing epithet "my beautiful woman," served to ignite a flutter of warmth within me, intensified by the tender kiss planted upon my collarbone.
As we stepped into my mother-in-law's abode, she greeted me with an exuberant embrace, sharing how she had procured my favorite appetizers and guiding me toward the others, while Kylian grumbled behind me, visibly "irritated" by his mother's preference for embracing me first. In response, I couldn't resist playfully sticking out my tongue.
Upon crossing the threshold onto the terrace, Kylian's friends extended warm welcomes. Kylian, ensuring my comfort and safety, opted to leave me engaged in a delightful conversation with Melissa and his mother.
"How are you, y/n? I was genuinely concerned when Kylian mentioned you weren't feeling well," Fayza remarked, her tone laden with worry.
"I've been better, but thankfully, at the moment, my discomfort is limited to stomach issues, so things are more or less manageable for now," I responded, seeking to allay their concerns.
"Well, y/n, do tell us. Have you managed to secure a place with any academy or instructor for your inaugural performance in Spain?" Melissa inquired eagerly.
"I've reached out to several, but I've had to turn down many options because they weren't the right fit for me. They seemed more interested in my relationship with Kylian than my craft. However, in recent days, I've connected with one that genuinely seemed invested in me, so let's hope this one pans out."
"Sweetheart, can I get you a glass of wine while you continue telling us about the move?" Fayza asked, retrieving a bottle from an ice bucket.
"No, it's okay. I can't have wine because of my condition," I replied with a smile, which quickly faded when I noticed everyone falling silent and Fayza dropping the bottle to the floor.
"When were you planning on telling us?" Ethan teased his brother.
"Telling us what, exactly?" Kylian asked, attempting to lock eyes with me for an explanation, but my cluelessness only heightened his concern.
"That y/n is pregnant," Fayza blurted out, barely able to overcome her shock.
"What?!" Kylian and I exclaimed, unable to shake off our bewilderment at his family's confusion.
"Yes, it all makes sense now: y/n's frequent vomiting, her occasional dizziness, her abdominal discomfort, and her abstaining from alcohol," Melissa exclaimed excitedly, envisioning her children having a cousin to play with.
"What? No, no, there's been a misunderstanding. I can't drink because of my illness, and Kylian and I... no, we're not planning for a baby right now," I explained nervously, seeking Kylian's confirmation of my statement.
"Exactly, as she said, for now, we won't know for three weeks," Kylian chimed in, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke, but his attempt fell flat when met with my glare of disapproval.
Gradually, the atmosphere returned to normal as Fayza apologized to both of us for her reaction. It wasn't that she didn't want grandchildren; she simply thought we had chosen to keep it a secret and would find out through the media when her son was abroad.
And so, we savored our final evening together, cherishing the memories to bring comfort in times of homesickness, though Kylian couldn't help but hope that the next time we entered that house, it would be to announce a pregnancy.
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i literally had ZERO clue that so many people in the fandom have a problem with hermes being cast as lin manuel miranda so imagine my surprise when i log onto the fandomspaces and see memes and jokes and actually upset protests against the guy. like ok maybe he didn’t match your ideal casting but I really don’t think he’s deserving of all the vitriol and derision 😭 i just know him from encanto and i loved his work there but i did do a google search to see if he did something truly irredeemably horrible/problematic and...no, he didn’t. the complaints against him are so superficial i’m so shocked at people openly making fun of his looks, of all things, like can we please be more respectful of the cast??? rick approved of lin manuel miranda too and if we can be supportive of the kids and other adult castings, we can extend atleast cordiality and basic respect to lin manuel miranda as well.
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mcflymemes · 5 months
Text
AS SAID BY THANE KRIOS  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, updated version
technology cannot cure greed.
face it bravely. i know you are good at that.
perhaps i shouldn't have said that. i don't want you to worry or feel guilty that you are not with me.
i cannot forget you.
there were too many. shields couldn’t hold up.
a quick exit is preferable.
this is… problematic.
i have thought over what you said.
i was curious to see how far you’d go to find me.
you were a valuable distraction.
i prefer to work quietly.
you have only made my life better.
i rarely make mistakes.
you disrupted my plan, but your distraction eventually proved valuable.
what would you like to discuss?
i’ve heard of them.
you’ve built a career on performing the impossible.
i’m dying.
the universe is a dark place. i’m trying to make it brighter before i die.
an assassin is a weapon. a weapon doesn’t choose to kill. the one who wields it does.
i came here to do a job for you.
where shall i put my things?
do you need something?
i won’t be a burden to you.
perhaps later you can give me some suggestions.
i can do nothing to alter my fate.
there’s so many ways to interpret one’s place in the universe.
in my experience, those who are truly dangerous don’t act like they are.
perhaps we can discuss it later. i’ve wasted too much of your time.
it’s difficult to control at times.
i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.
my training was very thorough.
i appreciate these chats we have.
it seems there will no one to mourn me when i die.
you’re the only friend i’ve made in ten years.
i shall… consider it.
it’s clear my conversation skills have atrophied.
just don’t make the same mistake i did.
now that you are here, though, it seems more difficult to talk about.
i abandoned them.
there have been complications.
something happened that should not have.
i would like your help to stop him.
that thought haunts me more than any other.
i don’t need your help, i want it.
i’ll be meditating until you need me.
there is nothing left to speak of.
i know how easy it is for a person to lose himself in the galaxy.
the galaxy is small compared to the endless sea of dark space.
removing evil isn’t the same as creating good.
i appreciate your patience.
you… you are very kind.
that assassin should be embarrassed.
one day i’ll tell you what it means.
i confess, i’ve come to care for you.
i hope it won’t offend you if i carry you in my heart.
whatever may happen, my gun is yours.
i’m… ashamed.
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getosbigballsack · 1 year
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𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑭𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓
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𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒓! 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒙 𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓! 𝑪𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖.
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒙... 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒖𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.
𝑨/𝑵: 𝑰𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅, 𝑰 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔.
𝑾𝑪: 3.6𝒌 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔
𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖'𝒔 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝑷𝒆𝒏✯
𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚❤︎
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It wasn’t in his best interest to have kids. He loved the bachelor life just a little too much. And though he had money or riches that could last him a life, he thought that it would have been problematic to have a kid at his age. 
There was so much to do, too many things to enjoy and he didn’t want to have a kid that would tie him down and prevent him from having way too much fun. 
But that’s until he met you. A simple beautiful woman, maybe a year or two older than him, who worked at the bakery that was a part of his corporate business.
… 
“Order for Mr. Gojo?” your sweet voice rang in his ears as he stood at the far corner of the cafe, admiring just how beautiful you looked that morning. It felt all so surreal, But after a few double takes and then one good look, he came to the conclusion that you were the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. 
“Here,” he said as he lifted his hand a bit before walking to the counter to take his drink from you. 
“Sorry for the long wait,” you said to him while you clumsily handed his coffee to him. “I’m a bit new here so I’m just getting the hang of things.” Cute! He thought as he handed you his card to pay for his drink. “I’m sorry but do you have any cash?” 
“Excuse me?” he asked with his brow raised a bit. 
You smiled, a bit embarrassed as you answered him truthfully, “I really don’t know how to use the card machine.” 
“That’s cute,” he chuckled a bit. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered underneath your breath as you picked up the machine, “Let… I'm going to get my other co-worker.”  
As you were about to walk away, he called for you. “Hey, it’s no issue. I’ve got the cash, Miss…” 
“Y/N. My name is Y/N and uhm… thank you,” you said as you came back with the machine and handed him his card. “That’ll be $4.50 please.” He took out the money from his wallet and handed you a $10 bill. 
“Keep the change pretty girl,” he said to you before walking away but not without giving you another glance. 
You were truly beautiful, funny and cute too. 
You were just perfect.
He came to visit the cafe for the next couple of weeks, just to see you. He even told the manager that he wanted you to make his coffee every time. You thought it was a bit weird, but you did it anyway and during that time, he took the time to get a bit closer to you and that’s when he found out that you were two years older than him. He was 23 years of age, and you were 25 years of age. 
Then weeks turned into six months and during those days, weeks and months he spent getting to know you, he eventually asked you out in which you immediately accepted. The first date went really well, he didn’t take you out to any extravagant restaurant at a high end hotel or some place in an upscale community. It was a simple picnic, in a park eating sandwiches that he made along with other food that he also made at his home. After eating sandwiches and his food, you allowed him to lay his head in your lap while you read a book. 
You really enjoyed the first date. And if you thought the first date was fun, then the second date was beautiful. Gojo came to an understanding that you were simple. (Not to say this as any disrespect) but you were just simple. You weren’t so keen on the idea of having riches, or jewels, or even clothes from high class brands. You preferred simple and small things. 
So the second time he asked you out on a date,(it was a bit of a stretch) but he took you out to a small cottage that he rented out for the weekend just for you and him. At first you didn’t like the idea, but he explained and told you that you would’ve probably declined if he had asked you to come to his home instead. 
So after his explanation, you felt a bit relieved. And decided that you wanted to enjoy the date. The entire weekend you both spend time cooking meals around the kitchen, dancing to songs that were being played on the small radio and even relaxing underneath the huge tree that was behind the cottage, that was also in front of a lake behind the house. After the second date, you both ended up kissing the night he took you home. It wasn’t too intimate, but it definitely had you wanting for more. 
The third date came by quickly and this time you were the one who asked to visit his home to watch one of your favourite movies. But let’s just say that you both did a little more than watch movies that night. It started off with him picking you up from your home and took you to his. You complimented his home before moving on to eat dinner that he prepared. You also had a little meal that you prepared at your house so you both eat that as well. After dinner you both went into his room, because the television in the living room was currently out of service so you had to use the one in his room. So let’s just say you knew what happened from there. 
You both ended up kissing half way through the movie the moment he called you beautiful and then one thing led to another and the next thing you know… 
He was whispering in your ear, “Is this ok?” 
“Yes…” you whispered back as you held onto his shoulders. “Don’t stop, it feels so good.” 
He smiled as he kissed your lips sweetly. “I won’t stop,” he whispered against your lips. “You’re so tight baby,” he commented when your walls clenched and grip his shaft as he slowly thrust deeply inside of you. 
Hair sprawled across his pillow, nails scraping the skin on his shoulders, he was slowly hammering into you and moving his hips in tight circles, hitting all the sensitive areas within your aching area with his cock.
“I’m cumming,” you cried and you pulled him down by his shoulders, wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into the space between your arms and his neck. He hummed sweetly into your ear as his hand slipped between your bodies, fingers rubbing tight tantalising circles on your clit to ease you into the most overwhelming orgasm of your life. 
"Baby, let it go. "Let it all go," he grunted through his need for breath, eager and moving inside you with those perfect delicate thrusts. You started bucking into his fingers, panting, gasping, and threatening to release yourself beneath him. Your entire body rose from the bed, and your lower regions tightened as the slick sound of your arousal clinging to his cock filled the room. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing you to scream and sob while your thigh trembled and your muscles spasmed. 
And Gojo all but moaned into your ear as you came around his cock. “That’s it, cum for me, sweet girl.” 
And the sex didn’t stop there. It went on for most of the night and early in the morning when he woke up with a morning hood. The third date was exceptional. And so were the other dates that followed after. The morning after the third date though, he asked you to be his girlfriend in which you agreed to. And it didn’t take him long to ask you for his hand in marriage. 
Gojo Satoru gave up his life as a young, handsome, hot and rich bachelor to marry a woman who worked inside a cafe. He gave up his life to sleep with any woman he chose, just to be with you. 
The woman who now sported his last name. The woman who he was joyful to call his wife. The woman who he posted adorable pictures of your messy hair and stained dress as you worked in the cafe on his Instagram stories. He loved posting those adorable little pictures of you smiling or just curled up on the sofa sleeping next him to. And also he most definitely loved to post extremely sexy pictures of you in a short dress, swimsuit or even a lingerie you’d wear for him on special occasions like birthdays, Valentines day, Christmas and anniversary. 
When people realised that this young hot, rich, handsome and most popular bachelor was off the market. He was getting a bit of a backlash for marrying a woman who was not even in his league. But he cared nothing for that as a matter of fact he let the whole internet know that he would rather be with you than someone who only wanted him for his money. 
He let them know that you were the most precious thing to him, he let them know how much he loves you and how he would give his own life just to be with you. He let them know that you were the best thing that had ever happened in his life. 
But after all that it still didn’t change the fact that he did not want to have kids. He still thought that having kids would be a bit problematic, because now he wouldn’t be able to have you all to himself.
He had so much that he wanted to experience, so many things that he wanted to do with you. And you knew this too, and you respected that
But suddenly, after witnessing his best friend Geto Suguru and his pregnant wife, Gojo felt the urge to start a little family with you. He kept it to himself at first, hoping that the urge to have kids would go away eventually. But it only grew more and more until one day he finally snapped. 
… 
“Y/N, can we go in there?” he asked you as he pointed towards a baby store. He didn’t give you much of a choice to reply when he was already tugging you inside the baby store. 
You were a bit shocked but soon after smiled as you watched as your husband admired the baby clothing, shoes and even the crib. You giggled a bit when he took up a baby onesie and held it to his chest. He closed his eyes and smiled and lucky for you, you were able to capture that beautiful moment before he turned to you. “My wife.”
“Yes my love?” you answered as you watched his baby blue eyes twinkled with excitement and joy as he picked up two more infant onesies. 
“Let’s go home. We’re going to make a baby,” he said as he grabbed your arms and pulled you towards the cashier to purchase the baby clothing. 
“Huh?” you asked, looking up at him confused. 
“We’re going home to make a baby. You’re ovulating right. The timing is perfect,” he said to you. You were feeling a bit embarrassed to say the least because the cashier was smiling a bit as your husband spoke. “Thank you,” 
“But Satoru, what about the groceries?” you asked as he tugged you out of the store and towards the parking lot where he had parked his car earlier. “We have to buy groceries.”
“Later,” he said as he opened the car door and allowed you to enter the passenger's side before closing the door. He got in quickly, tossed the bag with the baby’s clothes on the backseat. “It’s baby making time.”
“But the groceries Satoru?” you asked while giggling at his eagerness. You’ve never seen this eager to get something or to do something (well except for your wedding and sex on your honeymoon,) he really must be excited to go home and make some babies with you. 
“We can buy our groceries later, I promise. Right now we’re going home to make a baby. I want us to have a baby, my beautiful wife.”He said to you before starting up the car and quickly drove home. 
You were dumb struck out of your mind, but you knew he was serious because as soon as you both got home, his hand and lips were already on your body as he took you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He wasted no time to strip you from your clothes, toss you on the bed while he removed his clothes, then quickly got to work to get you prepped and ready for his deep penetration. 
He may or may not have studied what  sex positions are the best positions to ensure that you’ll get pregnant. So while he licked and fingered your dripping cunt, he also made it his goal to make sure that you at least came once before he starts to have sex with you and once you were through with your climax, he wasted no time flip you onto your tummy and have you in a doggystyle position. 
This is going to be extremely hot. 
“Mhm, sweetheart, you taking me so well,” he moaned heavily as he rested both his hands at the sides of your head, leaned his body forward to press his chest into your back as he continued to penetrate you deeply. 
“Yes, right there,” you cried sweetly, as you gripped the sheet in your hand to keep your body grounded beneath him, (as if his weight on top of you wasn’t enough already. But you still wanted to be good and take him as deep as you could. 
Hot tears ran down your flustered cheeks, a bit a drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as you moaned out his name, “Satoru… ugh Toru.”
“Mhm, my beautiful wife? What is it?” he whispered as he nibbled on your ear before moving to press soft kisses on your shoulder blade and the soft skin of your neck. You feel him pressing his body down against your back even more and despite all of this, you somehow manage to maintain that slight arch in your back. 
You could feel him, deep inside your sweet cunt, brushing against your cervix with each sharp thrust of his hips. If he keeps penetrating you from this angle, you’ll surely end up pregnant. “Look at me,” he whispered against your skin before moving his head to the side to look at your beautiful fucked out face. 
His wife beautiful, fucked out face. 
More tears kept spewing from your eyes, and he grinned as he whispered, “You gonna let me breed you?” 
“Yes, yes!” You moaned as he pushed into you, knocking another sweet moan from your lips. Your head bounced slightly while continued to look into his eyes. “Right there Toru… right there… harder, fuck.”
“Yeah right here and like this?” he asked as he kept brushing against that sweet spot inside your pussy. Then he began fucking you harder like you asked him to, smacking his pelvic area against your beautiful ass every time he pulled out to thrust back in.
“Yes, JUST LIKE THAT!” 
“Mhm… fuck. You gonna let me cum in you and get you pregnant?” he asked. “Are you gonna let me give you my babies?”
The bed creaked with every thrust, and the sounds of your sweet moans and cries were reduced to breathless moans, and through all that you still managed to answer him, “Yes I want to have your babies.” He was literally knocking the wind from your body, edging you closer to your release. 
“Fuck yeah…” he moaned loudly above you. “You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful all round and swollen with my babies… our babies, my beautiful wife,” he moaned before pressing his lips to yours. 
The slapping of his cum filled balls against your throbbing clit was enough to set you off, it was enough to have your thighs quivering and your cunt desperately sucking and spasming around his shaft. Your body trembled with a coursing through your body, you could hardly keep still to allow your husband to devour your lips. 
“Fuck baby, I’m cumming,” he babbled against your lip having felt his orgasm fast approaching. 
“Inside… inside,” moaned back against his lips before swallowing up each other's moan until finally you snapped, your cunt clenching tightly as you came off his shaft. “Ugh yes… yes.” 
“Yeah… fuck I’m cumming baby… fuck,” he cried as he pushed into you one final time and came deep inside your womb. You could feel his hot cum filling up your hole, just the way it was meant to be right now. 
And if he kept fucking you this way for the rest of the night they there won’t be any doubt in your mind that your about not being pregnant. 
… 
It was hard to tell how many times he came inside of you or how many times you came, but he made it clear that he was hellbent on getting you pregnant. The first attempt was an obvious failure because at the time you were still on birth control and at that moment Gojo forgot about it. But you both went to get it removed just so that you could try again. 
And you thought it would take very long for you to get pregnant. But you both kept trying and every time you both tried during your window of conception and even before or after that, the result turned out to be negative. 
You were devastated to say the least, but Gojo remained optimistic and he suggested that you and him should just keep trying until one day. 
It's been a few days and your period has yet to arrive and also you woke up feeling very nauseous today. Hence the reason you and your husband were both searching for the pregnancy test on the shelves. He held your hand tight as he picked up three boxes and went to pay for them at the cashier. 
“I’m scared,” you said as you both walked out of the pharmacy. 
“It’s going to be ok,” he assured you.
It didn't take you a long while to get home, the pharmacy wasn’t too far from your home anyways so you and Gojo decided to walk there. Anyways when you both got home, he went for the jug that he bought specifically for you to pee and gave it to you. 
“Let me know when you’re done.” 
“Ok…”you said to him as you left to go pee in the jug. Once you were done with that, you stuck all three tests in, took them out and rested them on paper towels on the bathroom sink. You emptied the jug, washed it out in the tub with hand soap before washing your hands as well then you. “Done,” you said as you walked into the living room to see your husband sitting on the sofa waiting for you to come back. 
“Come here, my love,” he called you. You slowly walked over to him and sat in his lap. 
“What if I’m not pregnant again,” you said to him as you stared at him with sad eyes and pouting lips. 
“Then we can try again baby and visit the doctors to get check ups. It’s not the end of us Y/N, we still got time to make a baby together. We’re going to be ok, alright?”
“Yes alright,” you answered and he smiled before kissing your lips. You both waited until five minutes passed and even after the time had passed you both sat there and waited a few minutes more. 
“Ready?” he asked you. 
“I don’t wanna look at them,” you said to him and he sighed softly before easing you out of his lap. 
“Alright, I’ll go check them,” he said before leaving to go check on the results. You sighed heavily because you expected to see him come out of the bathroom with the failed test and a disappointed look on his face, but that didn’t happen. Instead you heard him scream. 
“Yes… Haha… yes.” 
You jumped out of the sofa and rushed towards the bathroom to see your husband holding all three tests in his hands. “Satoru?” 
“My wife, we’re pregnant,” he said as he showed the test to you. All three of them were positive. “We’re pregnant,” he said yet again as he dropped the test on the floor, grabbed your cheeks and planted a sweet passionate kiss on your lips. 
You couldn’t believe it, you were finally pregnant. After a year of trials and failures, you’ve both made it possible and now you’re pregnant. You were going to carry your husband's child. 
“We did it baby, we’re pregnant,” he said before peppering your face with kisses. “You’re going to look so beautiful while crying our child. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
… 
And he does love you and you’re still the most beautiful woman in his eyes. And now you were going to be so adorable and cute when your tummy started to grow. 
As mentioned before, the idea of having a kid never sat well with him. But after meeting you, a simple yet beautiful woman who worked at a cafe changed his whole life and now here he was, successful in his company, still famous around his area, married to a beautiful woman, living inside a nice home that was decorated by you and now he has a baby on the way. 
He couldn't ask for anything better than this. 
Because his life with you is just perfect.
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𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔. 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖❤︎
@getosbigballsack 2023
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