#i should probably make a lil thing for that at some point… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 13 days

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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna.

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.”

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too.

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You.

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?” You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Weird.

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account?

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got.

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.”

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off.

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man.

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion.

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor.

This was absolute torture.

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…”

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice.

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now.

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips.

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to admit - “-virgin.”

Oh.

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped.

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not?

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation.

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted.

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly.

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice.

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again.

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is.

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other.

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit.

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it.

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?”

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were.

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy.

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster.

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices.

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you.

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm.

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more.

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet.

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both?

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection.

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door.

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone.

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing.

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word.

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you. Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world.

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully.

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all.

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles.

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead.

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy.

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter?????

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack.

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy.

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already.

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game.

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum.

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over.

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him.

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you.

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will.

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there.

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter.

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

“Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.”

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body.

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him.

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but.

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you?

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit.

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again.

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you.

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you.

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs. So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all.

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won.

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera.

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies??

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right?

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo #gojo x reader

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wheresarizona · 2 months

Text

but I would die for you in secret

summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.

To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.

Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.

So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.

Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.

If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.

You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.

There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.

It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.

Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.

That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.

It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.

Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.

Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.

The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.

The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.

And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.

It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.

For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”

“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.

There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.

“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.

You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.

“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.

“No-none,” you stammer.

His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”

His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.

His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.

Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”

Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.

Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.

“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”

The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”

“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.

“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”

He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.

It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.

He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.

The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.

You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”

His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”

You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.

Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.

“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.

“Yes.”

The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.

The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.

He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”

His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.

His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.

You’re so close; you’re just needing—

Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”

That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.

A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.

It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.

Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.

Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”

His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?

He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.

All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.

His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.

When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.

Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.

He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.

“What did you say?” you ask.

“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”

The question has your tight walls constricting around him.

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.

The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”

“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”

He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.

The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.

For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.

It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.

Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.

“Joel?” you break the silence.

“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.

“What are we?”

“Huh?”

“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”

His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.

“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.

You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”

His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”

“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”

“Well, there’s Ellie—”

“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”

“Yes.”

“So, you have feelings for me?”

“Of course.”

“Do you love me…?”

“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.

One word has your heart picking up in speed.

“I love you, too.”

His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”

A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.

“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”

His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”

Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”

He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.

This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.

“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”

His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.

“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”

“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”

He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”

Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.

“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”

“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”

His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”

Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”

“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.

“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”

“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.

You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”

“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.

“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”

“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”

“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”

You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.

“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.

“I do,” you reply.

“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.

“‘Cause no one else can?”

He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.

His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”

And something about that declaration thrills you.

“I’d like that.”

He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.

“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”

You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.

The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.

All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.

From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.

Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:

It was time for him to tell Ellie.

Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.

If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.

He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.

He hates that.

He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.

When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.

He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.

The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.

It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.

It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.

His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.

“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.

“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.

“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”

He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”

She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.

She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I asked you first.”

She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.

“I was at the same place you were.”

He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.

He meets her eyes. “And that is?”

She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”

“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”

“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.

“You done?”

“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”

His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”

“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”

“Were we really that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”

“What topic?”

“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”

He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”

She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”

“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”

His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”

“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”

“You’re what?!”

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #wheresarizona writes #joel miller x you #Joel miller/yo

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weirdmageddon · 9 months

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i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #mom lalonde #roxy lalonde #hs #strilonde guardian swap

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mikajunie · 2 months

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rediscovering shame and giving yourself compassion (how to deal with shame as someone with ADHD)

this is directed towards my fellow ADHDers who have trouble with reoccuring shame while leads to hindered productivity.

signs that your productivity is hindered by shame (compiled by my own experiences):

you feel negative physical symptoms when you think about your responsibilities

you find ways to avoid the responsibilities

every time you make progress, you feel like you don't ever wanna touch it again

when you present your progress, you feel ashamed of yourself because it's not finished (on time & according to ur standards).

you feel like you are a constant failure. you never win, despite achieving good things here and there.

you are a walking ball of anxiety

you have a fear of being perceived

there's probably more, but eh those are just from my own experiences

below i will write down what y'all should remember, what you can do to help yourself, etc. this is compiled from dr k, my own journaling time, and my firsthand experience from having shame 24/7

some things u gotta remember

shame is what exists in the gap between your ideal self and where you are currently.

your ideal self doesn't have to be unrealistic, it can be yourself when you were at your peak or someone who is very similar to you.

shame brings negative thoughts, because it makes you see progress as a negative thing.

instead of being happy that u made progress, u grumble to urself and ask "why didnt i just do it sooner? im so stupid". it's a reminder of your failures, so u avoid progress altogether.

shame can become a part of you, to the point where you feel uneasy or vulnerable if you dont feel ashamed at yourself

shame doesn't do anything to ADHDers in the long run except self-loathing and hindered productivity.

what should u do?

basically self-therapy, but instead of stopping at why, i try to solve my shame one-by-one.

examine past moments where you felt a LOT of shame. this can go back to elementary. the stronger the emotions, the better. now, write them down. you're probably cringing, but that is good. feel all the cringiness running through ur veins.

why did you feel shame? why did it happen? what did you feel?

reframe your thoughts. instead of immediately running away from it, accept it and justify it. give it compassion. give it a hug. was it your 7 year old self? hug yourself. it's okay to fuck up and do silly things sometimes, and it's okay to have ADHD. it's not our fault.

remember that ADHD is a lifelong nerudivergency, you can't just push it away. coping mechanisms and tools help, but give yourself some grace when you screw up. it's our first time living anyway.

calm your body down. make sure your physical body is doing okay.

now... think of one thing you want to do but can't because of shame and do these steps carefully. think of the reasons why you might be ashamed, and reframe your thoughts.

WARNING!! TAKE IT ONE PRESENT ACTION AT A TIME. don't do this for every action you want to take, let your body slowly learn that it's okay to make progress despite the shame you feel, and you are allowed to feel compassion for yourself.

train your body to accept compassion slowly. life is tough with ADHD but it's even tougher knowing that shame will get in your way. give yourself a break, it's fine to fuck up, we all go through different things anyway. even if it's not fine, you will learn and make those mistakes a lil bit lesser in the future.

ok hope this helps.

#mika rambles #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #adhd #actuallyadhd #actually adhd #adhd tips #adhd advice #adhd problems #adhd brain #adhd things #self improvement #mental health #mental illness #advice

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markatoto · 10 months

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fan of breasts?

chicken breasts? yeah! they are, maybe & arguably, one of the most delicious part of the chicken. well, maybe next to drumsticks (which i personally prefer for things like fried chicken, or soups). in particular, i like to use chicken breasts for making katsu, which, lemme tell ya, i'm no expert cook, but id like to think that i do a pretty good job.

matter of fact, if you want an extremely simple recipe, here's how i personally make chicken katsu (all off the top of my head, so some slight details might be missing, so please bear with me):

you'll need a few ingredients

panko (any sort of breadcrumbs will work, but panko is just the brand i use)

cookin' oil (usually simple vegtable oil will work)

the actual chicken breast, of course

the ol' traditional: salt and pepper

one egg (u dont need any more than one egg, typically)

if u wanna make things extra crunchy, having some corn starch mixed in with garlic powder + onion powder for some extra seasoning. maybe even a scoosh of paprika for that yummy (i personally like using this filipino chicken mixture called "crispy fry", which is usually used for fried chicken, but it works here too. it's usually meant for fried chicken drumstick, but what is katsu but a different kind of fried chicken)

anyways, here's how u wanna do things:

take out your chicken breast, pat it down with a paper towel so that it aint wet on the surface and either: slice it so that the chicken breast is about inch and a quarter (or so) thick OR use a mallet to make it around that thickness. youll want your chicken flat as possible, but not too flat! i think you know what i mean.

salt and peppa that mothafucka, both sides (OPTIONAL STEP 2B: it's at this point id probably mix my chicken breast with the starch mixture/crispy fry. it just gives a lil extra flavour and crunch that i enjoy. but this is just me, u dont really gotta do it)

crack open an egg and put it in a bowl. MIX IT UP

put your flattened (and maybe crispy fry seasoned) chicken in the egg. get it drenched, you want that panko to stick to that shit

what i like to do is i like to put panko in a plastic container with a lid, then i put the chicken in the container, close the lid up and just SHAKE it so that its nice and evenly coated. super simple and fun and WAY cleaner to deal with after the fact LOL

pop your oil in your pan. put in generous amount, enough that your chicken wont necessarily be drowning, but enough that your chicken will be sufficiently fried. heat that up until the oil reaches that perfect temperature of around 350'F (that is THE temp for doing any deep frying)

pop your chicken on the pan and leave it frying on the one side for, id say, approximately 4-5 minutes. youre going to have to keep a close watch on it. make sure that panko is that GOOD crispy brown on each side. over all it should take you like…. 7-9 minutes for your katsu to be done.

BEFORE YOU EAT... make sure the internal temp of the chicken is around 160 - 165'F. if it is, it's good to go. take it out and, what i like to do is get a plate and pop on a paper towel to let the katsu dry off all the excess oil. even though its off the pan, that shit is STILL cookin, so youll want to leave it alone for like… a minute or two. plus if you eat it now you'll totally burn your tongue and that's the WORST feeling in the world

and after all that, your katsu is done! get some jasmine (white) rice, put on some katsu sauce and some japanese mayo with a lil bit of furikake for that slight seaweed flavoring and youll be GOOD to go!!

so yeah, i guess you can say i'm a fan of breasts.

#the questions

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evilminji · 5 months

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You know one of the purposes of Lining?

Shock Absorption.

If the Zone is the Inter- and EXTRA-Dimensional Lining, connecting, containing, and generally powering all of Multiversal Creation? The Great Primordial Soup? The Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, from which we came and too which we return?

If the Zone itself is basicly the place between Universe, where your soul goes to get washed down, cleaned up, recharged, and sent out to wherever the next random portal takes it? To BECOME whatever you happen to find? An infinte recycler and Multiversal management?

The great metaphorical Yggdrasil, grown far beyond few branches, into an incomprehensible forest of one?

Well!

That kinda changes things! And also nothing! Because it means that those who remain? Are basicly squatting in the DMV's attic. Have built bunkers, under the country's main power generator. They really SHOULD move along. Granted, there is no one to MAKE them... but like...

That's cause no one thought anyone would NEED too?

Lol. Don't they feel silly? Anyway, I'ma put MY house over-! *wander off to go squat in the rafters*

Yeah, the CONCEPTS are native. But those probably just generate naturally. It's all the Souls constantly flowing through. Lots of background Sentience and Memories and such being washed away into the air. But? Then these lil souls were like "yeah, but if THEY get to stay... me too! D:< " "no, you can-" "ME TOO" and then they stopped listening and did what they wanted.

Good thing we have literally infinte amounts of room.

T...there's so MANY, you guys.

But! Not the point here!

*smacks white board* Realities! The Die too sometimes! And get born! A beautiful process, really. You can find Reality Beads if you know When and Where to look, some times. They, OBVIOUSLY, don't last for very long. Since they are basicly just seed universe. The explosive growth takes them almost immediately out of our range of perception, as they Begin.

Foundations of all Life and such.

But good God are they MAGNIFICENT!

However, sometimes? The REVERSE happens. If you find the area of the Zone your in? Is getting... "wavey" is the best way people describe it. Distorted. Fun house mirror. As though your vision has weird wrinkles that are distorting and stretching your view of things? Get Out. FAST.

If it's only SLIGHT? Barely noticeable? You can grab your Lair. IF, and ONLY IF you are NEARBY! If not? Remember. Things can be replaced. YOU? Can not.

Cause that "wavey"-ness? Is the final stage of Realm Entropy. The universe that portion over the Zone is covering and connected too, is all hollowed out. And about to CAVE IN. You DO NOT want to be there when that happens!

Remember! You see "waves"? Fly for three days!

Get to the edge of the affected area then KEEP GOING for a full three days flight. Warn everyone in you path. We stay safe together, guy. Collapses are NO JOKE. People get... well. Let's just say it's NOT a nice way too go.

Knowing this of course? We should all be SAFE right? Respectful if Awed distance from Reality Seeds, run like he'll if "waves"? We Gucci?

.....Sooooorta.

*flips Whiteboard to other side, to reveal a cartoonishly drawn Supervillian labeled "Asshole"*

Behold! A Terrorist!

It's a charged word. Not used lightly. But THESE fuckers? Oh ho ho! THESE fuckers?! "Ooooh~! Look at MEEEEE! I'm gonna play with FORCES I DONT UNDERSTAAAAAAAND! Destabilize my whole funckin UNIVERSE! Kill countless TRILLIONS OF TRILLIONS! Cause life was bad to me personally and I'm mad about it! Wah wah wah!!" ASSHOLES!

These fuckers? Cause Collapses. Blow Outs. Weird Fucked Up Cancerous Real Growths. You ever seen the Cleaners? No? You don't WANT TOO. They are basically eldritch, deep sea, angler fish looking mother fuckers THE SIZE OF SOLAR SYSTEMS. They travel in SCHOOLS.

BIG ONES.

When Realities collapse, they "fall off" as it were. Detach. And have to get recycled. All the countless impurities of Life eaten way to a blank slate. So it too, can start again. Thus the Fish. But! They ALSO eat anything "problematic".

Like tumors. Cancers. Poisoned, Multiversal Threats. Those quote on quote "God Killers".

Yes. Yes this IS part of why you DONT want to be near a Collapsing Reality.

No I WON'T explain how I know.

I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

*smack the board with pointer* pay attention.

Jason Todd. Not! An Asshole. Sexy thighs. Fancy lil hair strip. We all miss him. But! He's off living his "no really, I'm totally alive, guys" hot girl summer or whatever. We are going to respect that! But!!! How did that happen? When he was DEFINITELY Hella dead?

Superboy Prime-y Pants. Who IS an ASSHOLE.

Because THAT fucker? PUNCHED HIS REALITY SO HARD IT NEARLY SHATTERED. Oh, no, I'm sorry! He punched SOMEONE ELSE'S reality! Because he is a tantruming MAN CHILD! And NOW? Now, Your Majesty, that WHOLE ASS Reality is more hair line cracks then border walls! One good shove? It'll cave in. Killing every soul inside.

The Cleaners are ALREADY circling.

It needs to be patched. Immediately. But that's not something normal ghosts can DO. The Zone won't LISTEN to us. Nor allocate the energy for it. The Concepts of Healing? We can't even FIND them.

We need help.

Please help them, King Phantom. You're the only one who CAN.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #Cracked Reality Au

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madkiska · 8 months

Text

watching the entirety of jrwi: riptide again. here's some important things from the first few episodes that I feel we forgot (<110 mentions too though)

Jay

Had night terrors similar to those of Kubakinta's curse in episode 5, and they eventually start returning even after Loffinlot's curse is lifted ○ All of them were about her family and/or the navy ○ I simply think people leave her out of the nightmare stuff and she deserves it. Hurt her more, please (he said, lovingly)

was actually very upset at having to use her medal to get a Loffinlot rebellion to shut up ○ This could be because she didn't want them to guess she was a spy, but I choose to believe it's because she felt guilty

"If you're gonna be sailing with someone, you should have a good relationship with them. [nervous chuckle]." She says, while asking him for information about the Black Rose Pirates (ep. 10)

Said "thank god they didn't find me" after a nightmare about the navy attacking. Even when she was supposedly a spy, who one day would have to return to the navy ○ Very unclear if she was scared of her dad, or if it's because she was a secret spy so the navy would've just killed her

Rewatching, she was suspiciously into the plundering and gold and stuff. Like that was real sus. It doesn't fit her current character much

The only one among them who's gambled before

Chip

The entire thing literally starts off with Bizly holding a lit match

Called Gillion "Gill" and Jay "Sureshot" from an early stage

Was SO much more of a bastard. Lied to Gill constantly, didn't care about anything but the money, etc.

Had aggressive hand tremors alongside Jay's night terrors ○ Gill cures it with lay on hands

When he gets drunk married, they talk extensively about how he'd be released when he's dead. Welp.

They did actually break up and it was fine and they were still friends. They parted on good terms

Is really fucking good at chess ○ Beat Earl twice and Jay once. Jay had a point of exhaustion after a nightmare but Earl had no excuse ○ Lost to Gillion though, but only cause of prophetic screwup ○ This kid is smarter than he lets on, y'all

Was the first one to have a backstory dump while Jay is asking him about the Black Rose Pirates, yet still we know jack shit about his life before them other than "orphan"

Gill

Charlie has referred to Gillion with 'they' many times. I can pull receipts.

When describing Gill, Charlie said: "He's more.. elven, if you had to make a comparison. 'Cause I don't wanna be a fish guy". Oh, honey.

Smote a bald person by using his hair as a whip (ep. 4)

Was given anxiety and self-doubt alongside jay's night terrors and chip's tremors ○ "What do you want?" "I want the feeling of satisfaction I've been chasing my whole life." ○ This was episode FIVE.

First mention of the prophecy and how Gillion wasn't their ideal student is ep. 7, after he divine smites + prophetic screwups and deals like 60 damage to some beetles ○ Chip spends the next 30 seconds in gay awe

He refers to the crescent moon Niklaus tattoo as "my zodiac" (probably a bit) ○ It's not a lil basic white girl moon this thing is the entire size of his forearm

Gill had never heard about the Black Sea - it's unclear if the Undersea just don't know, or if that's just how sheltered he was (ep. 10)

Biz: "What would Gillion do. If he just had no goal - was just sitting there." "Gillion always has a goal." "Would his goal ever be to just.. Sit there?" "Absolutely not." ○ Later, Chip expresses that he doesn't know what Gillion likes. What he would want out of winning a bet. Gillion doesn't have an answer

Other

Apple, in a couple of early battles, acted like Gill's familiar (see: ep. 7)

They also pecked at his Niklaus tramp stamp and looked all confused at the idea of eating seeds

The specific crescent of the moon in the Niklaus tattoo is known as a symbol of "corruption" (ep. 9) and its antonym is the sun, for "life", similar to the yin and yang ○ Interesting to consider after what the tree said in 110 <_<

Pretzel has a masters degree in couple's therapy (ep. 10)

The Albatross/Millennium Chipper was described as the colour of rosewood or mahogany

Captain Lizzie's first introduction was a wanted poster, and Chip wanted to turn her in for the prize, then decided to try learn from her instead

Chip/Bizly called Old Man Earl "Erol" for a loooong time ○ Maybe it's an accent thing but I have an uncle called Erol and so this stands out to me

#I have lots of thoughts about all of this #jay also got her gun in like ep 1 but didnt use it for ages #idk. it's unclear with the combat in the beginning. she just says “shoot”. i love her anyway #jay the kinda girl to have a “no boys” sign up but then when she meets chip and gill she changes it to “son boy” like that one meme #theyre all my favourite character #not art #jrwi riptide #jrwi show #jrwi jay #jrwi chip #jrwi gillion #jay ferin #chip bastard #gillion tidestrider #jrwi #just roll with it #just roll with it show #just roll with it riptide

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willowser · 7 months

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you had only to look at me—

part two.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 3.3k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, dry humping, implied virgin bakugou, a tad angsty at the end.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

childhood best friend bakugou is probably a wrestler. a lil' rough-houser.

games of tag end with you tackled to the ground, squashed underneath him until you finally agree that he's the king of the world. whenever your hair is long enough to pull back into a pony-tail or little bun, he's yanking on it to get your attention, harsh, especially if you're ignoring him to talk to anyone else. scraped knees and bruised elbows, coming home missing a single shoe, shirt stretched out and wrinkled at the bottom corner: all katsuki's fault.

it makes you a little volatile, too, in turn.

not so much as him, but you grow up defending yourself; the first black eye he gets is from you (if you don't count the time he hit himself in the face by accident, when you'd started a slap-fight because he was trying to hold you down) and you very quickly learn how "unfair" it (apparently) is to kick him in the groin. your parents spend a lot of time separating you, putting you in opposite corners of the room until one of you stops crying and the other is ready to mumble out an apology. you're not allowed to sit next to each other at holiday events. whatsoever. under any circumstances.

he's your best friend. you wouldn't have it any other way.

in middle school, he's just as insufferable, hardly allows you to talk to any of your girl friends without butting in some how, too loud for anyone's own good. he tries to embarrass you in front of other boys, puts you in a headlock even when he's sweaty — which he is a lot at that point, during puberty — and calls you names that make you want to hide in the bathroom.

("why is he such a jerk?" your friends will ask, trying to fix the mess of your hair during lunch. all your butterfly clips are either missing or broken, crunched under bakugou's scrawny arm. "you should tell on him for being such a bully.")

nobody else treats you the way he does, and you don't treat anyone else that way, either; you never make ugly faces at your girl group, never punch them as hard as you can in the arm, aiming to leave a bruise. with all other classmates, you're — normal, trying to discover what that even means in the grand scope of things, who you want to be as the years pass. you avoid bakugou and his little posse of brats like the plague, because detention is what awaits both of you, should your paths ever cross.

things start to change, seriously, in high-school.

bakugou goes to u.a and you — don't; instead you continue on to the shizuoka high-school without him, along with your group of girls. his time at home and in the neighborhood lessens, even moreso when he moves into the dorms on campus, and the only time you see him becomes those few and far in-between family visits he has time to make; some holidays, he doesn't come home at all.

at first you think it's a good thing, because you've never gotten to flourish while trapped in his armpit. yanking at his hair until he finally lets go in the middle of the hallway has always garnered you some weird looks, odd stares, and you finally stop being labeled aggressive, too, with him gone. boys can talk to you without being stalked by your angry, wiry, chihuahua of a best friend, and you go on dates, ride in cars, have your first kiss.

you miss him from time to time, though you'll die before admitting it, and the yearning doesn't last long whenever he does come home. even when you're seventeen, eighteen, he still lays on the couch and puts his stinky feet in your lap and in your face, purposely puts things too high up on your shelves, leans against the front door so you can't get out when it's time to leave.

(he becomes an immovable object, much to your annoyance; in the past, you've always stood somewhat of a chance against him, knowing all his weak spots, like the clump of hair at the crown of his skull and how ticklish he is on his thighs, but now, after all the training he's been doing — he's huge, unfortunately.

if he grabs your wrists in one hand — like he's never been able to do — and holds them above your head, you're useless to defend yourself; there is an absolutely zero-percent chance you'll ever manage to overthrow him if he sits on you; tickling him is impossible, because his thighs have gotten so muscular that it's hard to grab him, and even if you do manage it, he can nearly crush your hand if he closes his legs together.

bakugou doesn't even look like your scrawny best friend anymore; he looks like the guy that ate your scrawny best friend.)

you graduate and go to college. bakugou graduates and goes to work for best jeanist, in the heart of tokyo. seeing each other means planning on it, making an effort neither of you have ever had to, and there's a lot of radio silence for months at a time. somehow it always comes full circle, though, and it always ends in violence, because you two don't know any other way to be.

you're twenty the first time his touch becomes tight, bruising, purposeful — for new reasons.

it's one of the few times he's off, and you haven't seen each other since his mom's dinner party four months ago. you only agree to come over because his patrol route had taken him through your campus and you'd spotted him across the street in the early hours of the morning, after you got out of class.

now you're both tired, lazing around despite planning to get lunch once the heat died down. together doing nothing; sometimes it's a little alarming how easily the two of you fall into each other, but you've been doing it for so long that it doesn't take a second thought.

bakugou strolls out of his bathroom with damp hair, in nothing but a loose pair of sweats, and you're laying on his couch half-asleep and he puts his wet towel over your face and you ball it up and throw it at him and then he tries to whip you with it.

"stop," you groan, serious, "you're so annoying." when he only twists it tighter, you stick your arm and leg out, deflecting against the wet smack he tries to leave against your skin.

his sharp teeth flash with his ugly little grin, and you try to grab the towel twice, ending up with an angry, stinging lick up the inside of your arm, before he gets too close and you can finally yank it from his hands. you sit up to get a better angle, but you're not as quick as he is, as adept at being a brat, and when he yanks on the towel, your whole body nearly comes off the couch, arms almost coming out of their sockets.

"bakugou!" you squeal, and he cackles, evil, and grabs your hands when you try to smack him. your massive, stinking, freight train of a best friend deposits his entire body on yours, crushing your lungs with his back as you cough, "get off!"

he doesn't say anything, choosing to pretend he's watching whatever is on tv and that he can't hear you — which you could believe, because bakugou likes trash television more than he lets on — and your hands are trapped at your sides and you can't breathe and so you bite him, right in the neck.

"ow, fuck!"

when he moves, he moves fast, and you're only hope of retaliating before he flips around and grabs your wrists and holds you down is to roll the both of you off the couch. his body thuds, deep and heavy, against the carpet, and you trap his hands beneath your knees as you straddle his hips, adjusting your full weight so you can at least try and keep him down.

beneath you, bakugou sneers. "you've got five seconds t'get off me before—"

"one!" you shout obnoxiously, rolling your eyes just to hear his annoyed snort. "two! three! f—"

his body snaps up into a sitting position, nose bumping yours as he rips his hands from beneath your legs. a scream tears out of your throat as you wiggle, surprised, trying your best to stretch your arms over your head and around your back so he can't grab them; if he does, it's game over for you.

"stop!" you shout, choking out a shock of laughter when he brings his legs up, trapping you in his lap against his chest. a little grunt leaves him as you jostle, but the tension at your back never lets up, not even when his mouth sets in a firm line and a sharp exhale leaves his nose. "let me go," you tell him, squirming again as he reaches for your hands. "i'm not playin' around."

"too bad, y'shitty nerd." he says, gruff, and when you stick your tongue out at him, he buries his face in your neck and bites, too, taking advantage of your shock as his fingers close around your wrists.

"no!" you scream again, trying in earnest just to get away from him completely, but he holds your hands behind your back and keeps you squished so tightly into him that you can only breathe shallowly, and his free hand goes to ball into your shirt at your side and —

— and his face is red, you realize, delayed. you can almost feel the heat from his cheeks with him so close, and you take in the flush of his neck, how it spreads down to his bare chest, crimson and fevered. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, nervous, almost.

"what?" you breathe, quiet, as if speaking too loud will break your playful bubble, and his eyes jump around his living room before landing back on you, narrowed and black.

"what?" he echoes, voice pitched and mocking. "you lose, dumbass." and even though he closes his eyes and grits his teeth, there isn't any hiding from how hard he's breathing. how subtle he's trying to be about spreading his legs.

all at once, everything kind of — falls apart.

bakugou is a man now, much to your horror; it feels like you've closed your eyes and opened them in the lap of someone else wearing your best friend's face. there's serious muscle definition in his shoulders and biceps, and you can feel yourself getting lost in the curves and valleys of him like never before. he's — you're — so close. more than it feels like you've ever been, even though you know that's far from true.

this boy used to pin you down in the yard and threaten to lick your face, the both of you grass-stained and covered in sweat. you've tackled him face first into the ocean on various vacations, running behind him quietly and plunging his scrawny, shirtless body into the waves as they rushed forward, uncaring of what you were wearing or how it twisted when you both came up for air.

saliva is still drying on your neck from where he bit you and, unthinking, your eyes dart down to his lips; plumper than you ever realized and parted, just a bit, enough that you can feel his breath on your cheeks. and you wonder —

bakugou grunts quietly, shuffling himself so that his back is leaned against the couch, and you half-expect him to just let you go because things have — changed. but he doesn't.

instead the new position has his legs a little wider and you've sunk a little further and you're now very aware of exactly what's changed, and how much. you can feel him twitch, just barely, and the hand he has at your side balls tighter into your shirt, jostling you minutely in the process.

and finally he opens his eyes and stares at you — cheeks burning, eyebrows furrowed — and you stare back — heat lighting up your body to an uncomfortable degree as your stomach flips.

you wonder what he would do, if you kissed him. what it would feel like. what he would taste like.

you move your hips with purpose, stuck on the new and foreign change it does to him; bakugou's always been a tough little brat, and you made him cry a handful of times when you were younger, but this weakness is — different. there's so much you know about him and yet even more for you to learn, and you find yourself consumed with the desire to explore this new, enticing territory.

his lashes flutter gently when you grind against him, tentatively, and then his head thumps back against the couch as the muscle in his jaw sets. half-lidded, his red-hot gaze jumps from your face down to where you're seated against him and back, and it's only after you move again that you realize — he's watching you, too. discovering.

the fist he has in your shirt loosens and his fingers burn your bare skin when they slip under the material to grip your hip. at any moment, you're half-expecting him to tell you to cut the shit, to shove you off and ask what the hell is wrong with you. why you're being so weird, doing things friends don't do to each other. but he doesn't.

you're almost certain that if you put your hands on his chest, you would be able to feel the mirrored, nervous pace of his heartbeat; it only takes the faintest tug of your hands for him to let you go, his grip falling to the other side of your hips. you can't tell if he means to hold you in place, or keep you going.

you spread your fingers out and, gently, as if you've never touched him before, run your hands up his chest, watching the bob of his adam's apple when you rest them on the sides of his neck. stabilizing yourself a bit, before testing the waters again.

bakugou's eyes are nearly black and when you don't stop, he looks down to resume watching the movement of your hips, the way his sweatpants bunch up and tug, and you feel a little zing up your spine with his every sharp inhale and sharper exhale. even his jaw falls a little slack and, fuck, you've never seen him like this.

you never thought you'd want to, but now — you don't think you'll ever see him any other way again.

his eyes go a little wide when you lean into him, brushing the tip of your nose against his. neither of you have said anything and maybe you should keep it that way, lest the bubble burst, but you feel like you're going a little insane.

quietly, around your own heavy breath, you ask, "does this — feel good?"

you can feel the temperature of his cheeks spike, but he nods shallowly regardless, and you press your mouth into his throat to bite him again, just lightly. it should be so that he's a little biter; the feel of your teeth makes him jump, has him angling his head so that more of his neck is exposed to you. when you soothe the barely-there indentation with the flat of your tongue, his breath hitches and his shoulders shake on a shudder and he groans, like he's angry.

"hah, fuck."

the friction in his lap isn't doing much for you, realistically, but his reaction is what has you aching, has you drawn tighter than a bow string. you feel yourself growing antsy for something that you won't name, because friends don't do that, though you can't help but to wonder if he's ever done it before.

you've had a few boyfriends. had a few experiences that ended quickly and left you feeling exposed and uncomfortable and a little in pain, and even though your girl friends insist that's normal — it's nothing like this. bakugou might not last much longer, if the grip he has on your hips is any indication, but not a single piece of your clothing has been removed and you're hot and getting sort of desperate and you know your underwear are a little more than damp.

you want to dismantle his long-standing composure. you want to be — maybe — the only one that gets to see him fall apart like this.

he's been your best friend your whole life, afterall; this experience should be yours. he should be.

the thought has you shivering a little bit and bakugou bucks up against you, pulling you down hard in his lap. dragging across the thick and solid length of him becomes even more clear and another, stronger zing has you letting out a breathy little sound into his ear. it makes him groan again, this one almost whiny, but he closes his mouth to muffle it and you don't want him to do that so you tighten your fingers in the hair on the crown of his head and — just to see, in a way you've never done before — you quietly whisper,

"katsuki,"

and he loses it.

one of his hands slips up your shirt to splay against your back, forcing you closer to him so he can bury his face in your neck, and his hips become insistent, urgent, rutting up against yours eagerly.

"fuck, oh fuck, fuck," he groans into your skin, fingers gripping you so tightly that you think he might actually leave burns behind, and his shoulders tremble before he goes totally still.

for a little while, you both sit there and let your breathing even out as reality sobers you from whatever lust-drunk haze you'd both been in. distantly, you think you wouldn't mind if he pinned you to the ground the way he always does, only this time to peel all your clothes off, right here on his living room floor. but he doesn't.

doesn't say anything, just shudders every now and again, and you think you're starting to feel the wet spot soaking into the front of his sweatpants.

you pull back just a little to look at him and he lets you, face just as red as he stares back at you, like he's the one waiting for you to freak. a little bit of red has returned to his eyes, though they're still swollen and dark with want.

when you lean in again, to bump your nose against his, bakugou snaps back away from you.

"wh-the fuck are y'doin'?" he shifts his eyes to the ground and they go wide. horrified, maybe. all the blood rushes in your ears and you don't know what to say, so he continues. "i-i don't have time t-to sit around all day, so—" bakugou shakes his head and you think he's going to kick you out, and he must know it, from how stiff you go. "so, you better know what the hell you wanna eat."

your bubble has burst; you nod silently and he glances up at you twice before swallowing.

"well, i can't get dressed with you sitting on me, so get off." when you remain quiet, he finally raises his head to look at you head-on, fisting the edge of your shirt again so that you'll look back. "d'you..." bakugou wets his lips before biting them, "need anything?"

"uh," maybe to shove your head down the drain and drown yourself, so that you can get rid of all the not-so-nice feelings that are creeping up beneath your skin. instead of that, you tell him, "just the bathroom, maybe."

"hurry up then," he mutters and even tries to roll his eyes, though it feels anything but casual. "don't...take for-fuckin'-ever."

and then he's up, quick to stand so that his back is to you as he disappears around the corner to his room, leaving you to yourself, trying to smooth out the wrinkle he's left in the corner of your shirt.

#this is my attempt at being a bit more organized akhfkahfa #the second part ends so abruptly that i'm tempted to extend it a little more............#if i don't put up the second part right away it's bc i'm thinking about it LOL #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #i did not even check over this for typos whoops #not a one shot oh well #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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dnpbeats · 3 months

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so much about why dan loves phil and how phil changed him but what about how phil loves dan??

Okay. When I first read this ask I was like "I got nothing" lol. now obviously not because I think phil doesn't love dan, clearly I believe that he does. but you'll notice that everything I said in my dan loving gremlin phil post was based on things that dan has said. and when it comes to phil, that man is SILENT!! he keeps his mouth shut. so I was like I have nothing to extrapolate from here. but! then I realized that's not true!! bc I think phil is very obvious with his actions!

and honestly just the fact that phil lets us see how much he loves dan through his actions speaks volumes in and of itself. because phil has said so many times that he's a private person, wants to keep any relationship he has private, etc., and I think he's proved that he's serious about that based on the fact that he hasn't said jack shit about dan in the way that dan has said stuff about him.

and yet, phil SHOWS so much how he cares for dan!!! and he says things that allow us to read between the lines! like phil buying the japan tickets and surprising dan with them in 2015. we know that dan is not an impulsive person at all and likes everything to be meticulously planned out. phil knew dan was never gonna bite the bullet so phil was just like "well this is a thing that's happening now" (see also: 2009, phil telling dan to buy tickets to come visit him for the first time and 2023, phil making dan come back to the gaming channel because he knew it would be enjoyable for him again). he just knows dan so well and loves him sm that he doesn't let dan stand in the way of his own happiness. and even though phil is private he allows us see how much he cares for dan, he doesn't try to hide it at all

and then just things like. phil telling the bbc he wanted dan to do the radio show with him. phil calling dan up on stage at the boncas. phil just randomly mentioning dan on his channel(/having dan be there) while giving no context bc at this point he expects everyone to just Know who dan is. phil talking about how proud he is of dan and his book at the end of the hair cutting video bc he knew dan wouldn't let him get away with saying that shit in front of him but he just had to say it.

okay and in terms how dan has changed him/bettered him. I do not think phil was necessarily an unconfident person/struggled in the same way dan did but like obviously everyone is gonna have their own insecurities. but I really truly believe that dan just, lets phil be phil. I was rewatching some of the ditl videos the other day, and in the manchester ditl there's the iconic "phil's in his own little world again" with the fondest laugh ever. but then! london ditl, dan saying yes phil should go climb on the lion and then filming him running over to it (and then being annoyed at the guy who told phil to get off LMAO). japan ditl dan telling phil to go run over towards the bird. do you catch my drift? like phil's a lil quirky but dan doesn't love him in spite of it he loves him because of it!! he encourages phil's phil-isms bc he loves them! and then also just little things like when phil swallowed the glue and dan knew he was anxious so he talked with the paramedic and then texted phil everything that they said and that he was gonna be fine!! I think dan is probably a voice of reassurance for phil a lot. like they just both know each other so well and they know exactly what the other needs, yk?

sorry that I let this sit in my ask box for almost a week anon I just had a lot of thoughts to collect but yeah <3 that's all

#dan and phil #ask #anon #dan howell #phil lester #d&p

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larluce · 5 months

Text

AU where Merlin is Arthur's familiar

Firstly, for everyone that doesn't know, in European folklore of the medieval and early modern periods, familiars were believed to be supernatural entities or spiritual guardians that would protect or assist witches and cunning folk in their practice of magic. They're almost always represented as some kind of animal, like a cat or a bird, sometimes a demon.

So, having that cleared up, how would Merlin be a familiar and how would he be Arthur's familiar of all people when Arthur isn't a sorcerer?

That's the thing, in this AU a group of evil druids or sorcerers find out about Merlin's identity earlier and his whereabouts while he is still in Ealdor. Not wanting Emry's magic to be under the command of some prophesied king and desiring that power to themselves, they kidnapped him and make a ritual to turn him into a familiar (a merlin especifically). They also erase his memory so Merlin doesn't remember he was ever human. Just when they where about to bond the bird to the sorcerer/druid leader to have Emrys magic under their command, Merlin manages to escape. He doesn't know who he is or where to go, he just knows he has to go far away from there.

Somehow, probably through his run away ordeal, familiar Merlin ends up in Camelot's castle, with an injured wing. He's chirping in pain when the young prince finds him in his yard.

Arthur: (covering his ears) Why are you making so much noise? Shut up! (looking closely) Wait! you're hurt? (picks him up carefully) I think your wing is broken. (Merlin chirps louder) Alright, alright! I'll find help. (runs as fast as he can) Gaius! Gaius!

The court physician bandages the bird's wing, but he can't take care of it due to his work, so Arthur does it. He makes a place for the bird in his room and feeds it. He tries to not get attached to it knowing the bird will have to return to its natural environment as soon as it recovers. However, after the bird's wing is healed, it doesn't want to leave, not matter how many times Arthur frees it in the forest, it always comes back, so finally Arthur decides to keep it. He has a bit of a fight with his father, because he never let Arthur have a pet, but after the bird protects the prince of a witch that was in disguise by stinging her eyes out, the king finally allows the prince to keep it. The prince, very happy, brings the bird to his chambers.

Arthur: (with Merlin in his forearm) Now the you're oficially my pet- (the bird chirps in protest) Well, my, eh... animal companion? (the bird deadpans) We'll work on that later. The point is, I should probably give you a name. (the bird moves its wings, excited) What about...bird? (the bird shakes it's head) Yeah, I've been calling you that from the start, so no. hmmm. What about falcon? Gaius says you're a falcon, though you're too small to be one, honestly. (the bird chirps, offended). I should just call you falcon or little falcon. No, it's still too long. Lil' falc? No. hmmmm. I think Gaius said you were a especific kind of falcon? How was it? Mar... Mer...Merloni? Merlon... Merlin! That was it. I'll call you Merlin.

Without knowing, Arthur just finished the last step of the ritual: naming the familiar, and with that, becoming the familiar's master. When the bond is created, a flash of light blinds him and, suddenly, the bird is replaced by a boy, who now is sitting on him, while he's spread on the floor.

Arthur: (looking up, shocked) What the fu-

Merlin: (looking down, confused) Arthur! Why are you smaller now? Wait... I can talk? (brings his hand to his face surprised) And I have... hands? Where are my wings? (panicking) Arthur, I lost my wings! And my feathers!(crying)NOOOOO!

Arthur: Merlin? That's.. you? Merlin? Mer...Merlin, shut up! (Merlin stops crying) And get off me! (shoves Merlin aside) How did this happen?

Merlin: You think I know?! Maybe that witch cursed me to be as ugly as you as a revenge for turning her blind. (sobs) My wings, my beautiful wings.

Arthur: (offended) Excuse me? Is not like you were a "handsome" bird either, you poor excuse of a falcon.

Merlin: How would you know, human with so little imagination that names his bird after their species?

After their stupid fight, they go to Gaius, in secret, of course. They can't have the king knowing the prince's bird was cursed. The physician does his investigation and, after Merlin discovers he can turn to his bird form and his human form at will and do some magic stuff, he concludes Merlin is, in fact, a familiar.

Gaius: Incredible! I thought they were a myth. It's said they're spiritual guardians of magic itself and that just the most powerful sorcerers could summond one and tamed them to become even more powerful.

Merlin: No... it can't be. I'm just a bird! I can't be a magical creature! I can't!

Arthur: (Knowing Merlin's scared due to his father laws and believes) Merlin. It's okay.

Merlin: (crying, almost hysterical) NO! I'm not a monster! I swear! I'm not evil!

Arthur: I know. Human, bird or familiar, or whatever, you're a good person. Well, a good being. Nothing is going to change that and nothing is going to happen to you, alright?

Merlin: (calms down) alright (snifs)

Arthur: But we need you to remember. Do you have any memory of you being anything but a bird?

Merlin: No, I've always been a bird. Although... (thoughtful) I don't... remember being a chick before.

Arthur: A what?!

Gaius: He means a baby bird.

Arthur: Oh, right (blushes). I knew that.

Merlin: Yeah, my very first memory is just before I came to Camelot, when... I was trap in a... cage. (he trembles at the memory) There were humans with capes, I think. They said they wanted to... control me, to had me at their mercy. I don't know what they wanted to do with me but I escaped. I thought I wouldn't make it. (with tears in his eyes) I was.. so scared.

Gaius: They must be the sorcerers that summonded you.

Merlin: Great. So not only I'm some magical entity but I'm sorcerer's slave now?

Arthur: (fiercely) You are NOT a slave! You are... ("mine" he is about to say, but stops) your own.

Merlin: (suddenly scared) What if they look for me?!

Arthur: I won't let them take you. I promise.

Gaius: And I don't think you have to worry about being some sorcerer's slave, Merlin. If you were bonded to one, you wouldn't have been able to escape in the first place.

Merlin: That means... (hopeful) I'm free?

Gaius: And in Camelot where magic is forbidden, so you're safer as you can be. You'll just have to keep pretending you're a bird, if that's not a problem with you.

Merlin: I'm completly fine with that.

Arthur: (joyful) And me! (composes himself) I mean, I like him better when he can't talk. (Merlin frowns at him)

Times goes by. At first, Merlin stays in his bird form and tries not to do magic, because, apparently he's been doing magic all this time without knowing (honestly, how was he supposed to know all the things he accidentally broke or dirt in Arthur's room were repaired and cleaned by him? He just thought Arthur has very efficient servants!). But it becomes impossible, not only because not doing magic makes him sick, but Arthur keeps running into danger time and time again, so he has to use magic to protect him. Arthur scolds him everytime he does that, he doesn't want his friend to be discover, but eventually it becomes rutine. Also, Merlin starts to take his human form more and more frecuently, because he needs Arthur to understand him, sometimes to give him a piece of his mind, to warn of some danger he finds out, or simply to cheer him up when he's sad or pass time.

Merlin: Is magic really evil? (he looks at his hands)It doesn't feel evil when I use it.

Arthur: How does it feel to you?

Merlin: It feels like... flying (he smiles and closes his eyes) So natural and beautiful, like the earth under my feet and the wind moving my feathers. And I feel it everywhere, not just inside me, but in every living thing. In every flower that blooms, every pup and chick that is born. Even in you. It's suppose to corrupt you, but instead of feeling wrong, I feel so good and... so alive.

Arthur: (looks at him for a moment, completely in love and then composes himself) I don't believe magic is evil. Not anymore.

Merlin: (open his eyes, surprised) Why's that?

Arthur: At first I thought you were an exception to the rule, but then Morgana-

Merlin: (even more surprised) She told you?!

Arthur: (just as surprised) You knew?!

Merlin: I could feel the magic inside her (he admits, guiltily). I wanted to be wrong. She's one of the kindest human I know, but then I saw her doing magic and... I just couldn't tell you. It wasn't my secret to tell, I'm sorry.

Arthur: It's alright. I understand. (he sighs) She was... so scared, Merlin. She begged not to tell my father, like I could ever do that (he laughs dryly). And she didn't learn magic, she just have it. She didn't even know she was a sorcerer until recently.

Merlin: Oh... (thoughtful) That explains a lot of things.

Arthur: What do you mean?

Merlin: Morgana isn't the only one, I think. Sometimes I fly around and I feel people with magic inside them. Some of them are evil, so I call you, but there are others that just do minor stuff, like healing spells and potions. But there are other too that… don't do magic at all and yet… the magic inside them is so strong. I thought maybe I was seing the potential of magic, but now…

Arthur: (in heavy realisation) So it's true. My father's been killing innocent people all this time.(with tears rolling down his eyes) I've been killing innocent people all this time.

Merlin: (hugging and comforting him) No! Arthur you did nothing wrong. You didn't know.

Arthur: (crying and hugging tightly in return) I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

Aaaand that's it. I don't know what else could happen. Apart of merthur getting together obviously. There would be a lot of pinning and confused feelings. Arthur first meets Merlin as a bird after all, so accepting he has a crush on his bird friend is not going to be easy. The same goes to Merlin. Lets not talk about when they both discover they're bonded and Arthur could technically control Merlin and use Merlin's magic at his will if he wanted. And I guess at some point the evil sorceress/druids would try to get Merlin back. And then Merlin finding out he was human before and has a mother in ealdor… Damn that's a lot of angst.

Anyways, I still have a couple of fics on going so I don't think I'm going to write this anytime soon... or ever. So if anyone wants to write it feel free to do it. Or just comment any ideas you have for this concept/prompt below so I can keep them in mind if I write it in the end.

EDIT: I DID A PART 2, GUYS!!! -> LINK

#merthur #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merthur prompt #merlin prompt #merthur fic #merthur fanfic #concept #king arthur #arthur #merlin x arthur #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU

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7ndipity · 1 year

Text

Dating Jungkook headcanons

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: some swearing, a lil suggestive, I think that's it

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, I've never written a list like this before so it's a little scattered, sorry. Anyway I'm very soft for this man now, goodbye.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Jungkook is, for lack of a better word, messy. But like in all the best ways.

Late night hangouts when y'all can't sleep and you just end up at the local convenience store, eating snacks or whatever and talking until you notice the sun coming up.

I know I wrote a lil blurb abt it already, but karaoke dates are a regular occurrence. Doesn't matter if you can sing or not, y'all are just having a good time seeing who can hit the highest note(it's him, sorry)

He's one of those people whose friends probably tease cause he says "my s/o is my best friend". But he actually means it, you are his best friend.(I really feel like he would fall for a friend, but that's a discussion for a ot7 reaction I'm working on for next week👀)

Acts really cocky sometimes, but will fold like a house of cards(ha) into the softest boi at the slightest provocation from you.

He's fucking whipped for you, and he knows it.

Was so nervous to kiss you the first time that he legit backed out like three times before it finally happened.

Probably has some kind of nickname for you like "my light" or "my life."

But on the other hand, y'all also tease each other relentlessly, it's like a second love language with him.

Like he will sit there while you're trying to read or smth and poke your cheeks until he gets a reaction out of you.

Will make height jokes, even if you're only like 1in shorter than him.

"Tiny baby." He coos while patting your head. "I'm gonna climb up there and kill you." You warn. "So tiny, so precious."

But if he catches anyone else giving you a hard time about something, God help them.

Possessive(*cough perilla leaf debate)

Gives you his sweatshirts to wear because you look cute in them, but also loves that it's a subtle sign to anybody else that you're his.

This goes both ways though, he loves when you call him yours.

The first time you called him "your boyfriend", he legit short-circuited for a second.

Would probably have matching, macrame type couple bracelets that y'all made together for your second or third month anniversary.

Protective AF

Does that thing where he makes sure you walk on the inner half of the sidewalk when are you're out together, so you're protected from the street?

Not big on Pda exactly, but usually has an arm around you or is holding your hand. He doesn't even realize he's doing it sometimes, it's just kinda become a habit to have you close as much as possible.

He gets so little time with you as it is, so he just wants to make every second count.

When it's just the two of you though, he becomes a fucking koala and will NOT let you go.

Clings to you like his life depends on it.

Begs you to stay over all the time, swears that he can't sleep well unless you're next to him.

At this point, you might as well move in, half of your shit's at his place already anyway.

Looks at you like you're a literal dream.

Like some mornings when neither of you are really awake yet, you look over and he's just staring at you over your coffee mug like🥺

Loves to make you flustered tho

Like, if he notices you have a thing for his arms, he's gonna take every chance he can to roll his sleeves up in front of you just to see your face go red.

Randomly walks up to and gives you these deep, intense kisses and then? just fucking walks away as if nothing happened? Like, nuh-uh, get your ass back here and finish what you started sir!

Talks about your future together with such casual certainty. Like "when we get married, we should get a house like that".

Refers to Bam as your child.

Idk where I'm going with this or how to end it, so I'm just gonna stop here, but yeah. I just think he's neat lol.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenarios #jungkook headcanons #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts reaction #bts requests #bts headcanons #bts x y/n #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts imagines #7ndipity

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Text

✦Slashers with a Male(“dominant”)S/O✦

✧AMAB!Reader, implied to be on the tall & broad side, also a lil southern cause I wrote this when I was tired and my southern accent took over. ✧Danny Johnson(He/They), Bubba Sawyer(He/She/They), Stu Macher(He/Him), Billy Loomis(He/Him), & Brahms Heelshire(He/Him)

NSFW Warning; some headcanons & implications

✦Danny Johnson ~ Ghostface✦

Danny is pansexual, I will defend that til the day I die. He doesn't give a single fuck, as long as he gets to fuck. He has a typical type when it comes to men but it's never concrete. That being said, his usual type is dudes who look like they could snap him in half. Because that's what they want.

He's usually the dominant type, but he's all for being a pillow princess if the dynamic is right. But! They have to really like you, they're not a cheap whore...most of the time. Point is, he has to be fascinated with you as much as he is attracted to you, which they are. Lucky you.

Let's assume you're a survivor for this. All the survivors are pretty unique, but you being new should help your case. But what will really get Danny interested is seeing you match his energy. Flirting with him when you evade an attack, blowing a kiss before you leave through the hatch, wolf-whistling if you catch them crouched behind something. It throws him off but he's a bit too flattered to stay annoyed. A surefire way to get them obsessed with you though is to struggle when he tries to mori you. And if you're successful, keeping your cool as you pin them back? You might feel something poking your thigh in record time.

Danny's the lovable kind of annoying. Which is confusing, given the fact he's a murderous psychopath and most likely a narcissist. Matching his flirty and energetic ADHD-ass nature will get their crush to develop further. It'll be unhealthy but you're not here for someone mentally stable.

Expect him to follow you everywhere, take a million pictures of you, he probably brags about you to other killers. They're honestly sick of him shoving pictures of you taking your shirt off, taken from a distance without your knowledge.

They're a cuddly bitch, and they're incredibly starved for human contact. You're gonna need to carry him. Complain all you want. He has mommy/daddy issues and he wants to be held like a baby, damnit.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Did I mention pillow princess? Yeah. When Danny's the dominant partner in a relationship, sexual or romantic, he puts in all the work without any complaint. He doesn't mind his partner just laying there and enjoying it. Makes him feel accomplished. But sometimes a bitch needs pampering. That's where you come in.

They're an extreme masochist as much as they are a sadist. You could put the hot metal of a lighter to his thigh and he'd probably cum in his pants. Pulling his hair is the easiest way to put him in his place if he's being a bit too mouthy. And they will beg you for marks if you don't put them there yourself. He wants to be sore after it all, damnit!

Panting, Ghostface let out a little laugh from behind their mask as he settled over you, knife raised. "Finally caught you, sweetheart. Tell you what, you're a good runner. But I won.~" He hummed raising a gloved hand to your hair in order to pull your head back, slice your neck. Danny inhaled and went to jab his knife into your jugular, only to let out a rather unmanly yelp when you suddenly jostled them. Able to completely flip around, tossing them off as if they weighed nothing. The muderer's camera landed in the grass and his hands were trapped above him by yours. He blinked in awe behind his mask, watching your chest rise and fall. "If there's one thing I hate 'bout y'all killers, it's the goddamn ego." You smiled as you spoke. For once, the talkative killer didn't reply. "What? Cat got your tongue, Casper? You were talkin' a bunch of smack befo-" You paused and glanced down. Danny swallowed as you let out a quiet chuckle. "Well I'll be damned...shoulda known you'd be into this kinda thing. Gross lil' fucker." They cleared their throat awkwardly as you tapped their mask. Danny inhaled and pulled back some of their dignity. "Should expect everything from me, big guy." He retorted. "Suppose I should, huh?...well, Ghostie. Rest of the team's down and I ain't got a clue where that hatch is. Might as well make the most of it, eh?" Perhaps a terrible idea, but exciting nonetheless.

✦Bubba Sawyer ~ Leatherface✦

SHE DESERVES A STRONG HUSBAND TO HELP HER AROUND THE HOUSE.

That aside, Bubba's not necessarily in the most accepting time or house. His brothers still poke fun at him sometimes when he dresses femininely, but have mostly grown to accept it. And I can't see Chop-Top as not being the type to mess around with a guy occasionally, so while they probably say ignorant stuff every now and then, I don't think it's those three that'd be the problem. It's the forties. Everyone else is gonna have something to say. Assure Bubba it's not a problem for you, she'll be over the moon.

They've tended to be into women and feminity in the past, but don't let that fool you, they are very bisexual. It especially helps if you're the sweet-talking type. Bubba is very easily thrown off by flirting.(Looking at you, Stretch) That and gentleness. Be a gentleman and you got Bubba swooning, especially if you're like that even after they've shown you they're cannibals.

We all know Bubba's not super dominant, at all. She's rather submissive and it's usually taken advantage of, since she struggles saying no. And they rarely get thank you's. Proper praise will get you a long, long way.

Pick. Bubba. Up. Pick her up. Do it. Pick them up and carry them around like a precious husband wife because that's what they are. They deserve it, their legs probably hurt from working all day!

Helping out around the house in general will score you major points. Especially if you aid in the process of getting food, that'll get you points with the rest of the family too. The more good word you have in Bubba's family, the more they'll be willing to keep you, because Bubba's love for you is honestly the only thing keeping you alive.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Praise. Praise praise praise praise, praise and compliments all over the place. Bubba has been nothing but criticized their entire life, if there's anything they need both in and out of sexual experiences, it's words of affirmation. They're even more submissive when underneath you. Because(southern accent activated), lawd almighty what a big strong man you are!~ Oh also, call them good girl/good boy/good baby.

Bubba's got no fuckin' clue what to do. They've only occasionally seen a dirty magazine or the clip of a porn movie that Chop-Top left on the old TV. You're gonna need to teach them basically everything. Just make sure you're gentle, because Bubba is sensitive and they need patience when it come to new things. God forbid they have an overstimulated meltdown during something that's supposed to bring you two closer together.

The old floorboards whined under your weight as you looked around the old house. "Pardon me, but uh...is anyone here?!" You called. "I don't mean to intrude, I was just wonderin' if I could borrow some water..." You voice trailed off at the sight of an...oddly furnished room. A bench made of bones, a chicken in a cage, feathers everywhere. More and more bones that were no doubt human. Alarm bells rang in your skull, amplified when there was a heavy slam of a metal door being opened, and quick footsteps. You took a defensive stance when you saw a large figure appear, dressed a button up, cowboy boots, old pants and a stained yellow apron. They held a hammer in thick hands and looked around, letting out animalistic like squeals and distressed grunts, until they spotted you. Though typically the fight type, you couldn't seem to do that or resort to flight, stuck in place. Their hands waved a bit and they ran at you full force. For a moment, your gaze fell on a cracked floorboard, one you'd avoided coming in. "Whoa hey now, wait-!" Too late, they stepped on it and it gave way, sending their leg through the floor. They whined and kicked, getting more distressed by the moment. "Hey!" They snapped their gaze up to you. It took a lot of willpower not to cringe at the sight of their mask. Instead approaching slowly with your hands open and in front of you. "Easy, alright? Relax. You're just gonna get yourself hurt thrashin' 'round like that." The stranger let out more noises of distress. "Relax, sweetheart, I ain't gonna hurt'cha." They stopped moving as soon as the pet name left your mouth. Confused, likely. They let out a little concerned whimper as you knelt down and tugged the floorboard next to the broken one. It pulled up and their leg was freed. "Look, see? Nothin' to worry 'bout. Just gotta be careful with these old floors. They give way real easy." They twisted the hammer around in their hands, standing rather stiff as you rose to your full height. Not much different from theirs. You exhaled and introduced yourself by your name. "I apologize for just bargin' in, door was open and I kinda thought this place wasn't occupied. I was just lookin' for a drink if that's alright?" You asked. They shifted their weight from side to side, shyly. Were you insane for considering this cute? Probably, but that wasn't a concern at the moment. They eventually nodded. "Yeah? Well alright then, thank ya, sweetheart. I really appreciate it." They squeaked at the pet name again and flapped their hands, pushing their face into the palms. You chuckled softly. Nearly killed only to charm the attacker, only in Texas.

✦Stu Macher ~ Ghostface✦

Stu. Is. So. Fucking. Gay. Extremely gay. “Oh but Tatu-“ SHHHH, gay. He’s a switch with a casually dominant personality, but he’s not really a dominant person. He’s just intense. He’s actually pretty gullible, especially when looking for praise or approval. Man likes to be included.

He's got a bit of a type for soft-spoken alternative dudes. Like, quiet & brooding. Basically the opposite of himself. You could say anything and if it's said in the right tone, he'll go with it. Why do you think Billy had such an easy time manipulating him?

If you're taller than him, which means over 6'4", bonus points. Major bonus points. Because that's rare and he's a whore.

Proving that you can handle yourself in dangerous situations, or that you can completely whoop ass? Stu finds that super attractive. Especially if you don't even instigate it. The whole "I don't start fights but I finish them" thing is extremely sexy to him.

He's gonna stalk you, just so you know, but he's not very good at it. Stu's a bit too loud and obvious. But he's definitely gonna try and impede your schedule so you two can constantly bump into each other, he thinks he's being subtle but he's not. It's endearing if you don't look too hard at it.

He's not necessarily the ride-or-die type with Billy in the picture, no matter how hot you are. HOWEVER, if you somehow get in on the Ghostface plot? And you're cool with it? Oh now he HAS to suck your dick, it's just a requirement. Especially if you help out directly. Depending on how you treat him and if you're manipulative enough, you might even replace Billy in Stu's mental throne. But you'd have to put in the work, don't expect it to be easy.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

With Stu, you don't really need a dominant or submissive relationship. It kinda just...exists, and that can be very refreshing! He's really not picky on whether or not he's top or bottom, he just likes feeling good. That being said, he has an affinity for oral. Giving or receiving. And he's unfairly good at it.

Pillow. Talk. Do it, all the time. If you want Stu to be your mushy-brained-bitch, use pillow talk. Saying the right things in a soft, breathy tone could be enough to make him jizz in his pants. Just expect him to be just as vulgar in return, and he has no shame, he'll do it in public. Match his energy.

Music flowed from a stereo in the kitchen, mixing with the voices of high school seniors and the clinking of alcohol bottles. Stu's house was known for great parties, especially around Halloween. He enjoyed the atmosphere of social gatherings and he made for a great, unconventional host. Ensuring everyone was as drunk as they wanted and everyone felt comfortable to let loose. He jumped out from behind a corner with a mask on, it smelt of booze and weed and he'd simply found it resting on his dining room table. Two girls, both dressed as angels, screamed. One smacked him in the chest after he took off the mask whilst laughing. Stu sipped some beer from a red solo cup as he meandered through his entryway. "Stu!" A junior girl that he sometimes asked to do his homework skipped up to him, smiling as she held a new model cellphone in her hand. "My cousin just called me cause he's new in town, can I invite him over? He's the same age as you and-" She squeaked when Stu hugged her into his side casually. "Shhhshhh your explanations, sweetheart! Call'em! But he better be cool!" He insisted. She grinned and quickly dialed back her cousin as Stu chugged back the rest of his alcohol.

It was hard hearing the heavy knock on the door about thirty minutes later, but Stu prided himself on how good his hearing was, despite all the music he tended to blast. He didn't get to the door before the same girl ran up with a smile. What was her name again? Stella? "That's probably him!" She exclaimed excitedly as Stu swung the front door open. It caught him off guard that he had to look up instead of down. His mouth grew dry as he was met face-to-face with a motorcycle helmet. "Oh, sorry." The stranger's voice was muffled and their gloved hands rose to hoist the helmet off, they quickly fixed their hair. "Thanks for the invite, I'm guessin' you're Stu?"

"The one and only! Nice to meet'cha cowboy. Got any booze?" Stu was excellent at quick recovery. You dug into your pocket for a moment and pulled out a small shot-bottle of vodka. "'Specially for the host." You said, Stu grinned and took it, stepping aside and dramatically motioning for you to enter. Stella began rambling off to you about how happy she was you were in town whilst Stu just...stared. It was noticeable at this point, which made you look over. "You want a picture, big guy?" Stu felt horniness sucker punch him in the ribs. "Nah, I'm good with staring!" He grinned. He swallowed as you snickered. "Alrighty then, feel free." Stu would be staring at you a lot. A whole lot.

✦Billy Loomis ~ Ghostface✦

Did someone say INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA?? It's so obvious. Now, I think Billy is bisexual, but he's hella hesitant to admit he's into dudes. For the sake of his dad, the idea of a dude having more power than him, and the time period? It's not easy for him to just be cool with it when it comes to himself.

That being said, Billy's more of a bottom than he'd like to admit. And it comes out with dudes that are bigger than him, and it's even worse if they're not easy to manipulate. Which you're not. That pisses him off so much.

Rule of thumb with a Ghostface? Energy matching. Be just as smooth-voiced and eerily calm and he's gonna have heart palpitations. It pisses him off so bad that he can't affect you.

To be completely honest, he's gonna try and stab you because he's an angsty teenage boy who can't handle his feelings so it's easier to get rid of the cause. Of course, it's not that easy. You don't make it easy, and that also makes him more into you. He likes the adrenaline of a struggle.

What'll really get him is if you somehow get him vulnerable, which will take a blue-moon and 1/10,000 type of luck odds. But not take advantage of it. Don't pity him and don't poke at him, just...being there. Even trying to lighten the mood, that kind of thing gets any angry boy with mommy issues to get at least a lil soft.

If you know he's Ghostface and ask to help, especially if he just tried to kill you? Bro how dare you...offer something so sexy, of course he's gonna say yes. But don't ask to be a Ghostface. He's comfortable with being in control of that aspect. But you can help with things like the gameplay or the information on victims, or being an alibi. If you can be an alibi put on the spot? Mm, so sexy.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Look, I know Billy probably isn't a bottom at all, but this is fiction and I can do whatever I want. And I say Billy Loomis is a reluctant pillow princess. Reluctant because of internalized homophobia and a fear of being vulnerable, but we're gonna lie to ourselves and say that you somehow managed to get past that.

You're gonna need to have the patience of a saint. No hard doms here, ironically. He likes a power struggle, but what really gets him is you being in control and calm. Like you don't have to try. Oddly enough that kind of thing is comforting. It feels like he's relinquishing control to someone who knows what they're doing, rather than someone flying blind.

Billy chucked the burner phone as hard as he could into the woods surrounding Stu's house before bending down and ensuring his knife was properly strapped down. Hidden under his jeans and boots. The music from inside was headache-inducing. Stu was far more sociable than Billy, he had never been much of a party person, aside from the booze. He was more of a homebody.

He walked around the house and went over his alibi story a few more times as he hopped onto the porch, ringing the doorbell. It swung open to Stu, who was very clearly buzzed, if not just straight drunk. "Billy! Baby, my man, c'mere. I gotta introduce you to this dude." Billy didn't get a chance to speak as Stu pulled him inside, rambling on. The teen sighed and rolled his eyes. "Aight, Bill, this is the new guy that's coming to our school next week." Stu motioned to you. Significantly taller than him and probably twice as broad, holding an air of natural intimidation and a stern expression. But it softened when you turned.

"Oh, you're Billy? Stu kept talkin' bout you. Nice to meet you." You held out a large gloved hand, mentioning your name. Billy held up his fist instead, which you quickly adjusted to make it a fist bump. "Bill, this dude is so cool. He's got like a ton of motorcycles and a fuck ton of knives-" Stu slurred. "I have two motorcycles, one of which isn't even technically mine. And I have a collection of pocket knives, he's exaggerating." You smiled. "Oh! You two wait here, I'm gonna get you both some booze." You didn't have a chance to deny the offer before Stu rushed off.

Billy stood with his arms crossed, tongue tucked into his cheek. "Introvert?" You asked. "Hm? Oh uh, yeah, more or less." He replied, to which you nodded. "Yeah, I'm not much for parties either. I'm just here for my cousin. Definitely wasn't my plan for tonight." Billy blew some of his hair out of his face, leaning on a wall. "Then what was your plan?" "Watching scary movies." You replied, and maybe it wasn't intentional, but you noticed how he perked up. "Yeah? You a big horror fan?" He inquired. You nodded with a growing smile. "Oh yeah, especially the gory ones. They're the most fun. Do you like scary movies?" You asked. Billy nodded. "Mhm." "What's your favorite scary movie?" He felt a shiver run down his spine as you tilted your head, probably unaware of just how significant the word choice was. Billy smiled and rested the back of his head against the wall. For a moment, slightly lowering his guard as he grinned slyly. "Guess."

✦Brahms Heelshire ~ The Boy✦

How the fuck did you manage to make that happen? We have no idea. Assuming you're a nanny, that is. There's always a chance you work for the Heelshire's for a different reason. (my boy @disc0dild0s has a fic like this on Wattpad, y'all should look at it)

But for my personal wants, we're gonna say you're the nanny, and you somehow meandered your way into a position. Maybe the Heelshire's were just extremely desperate for anyone at that point that they basically told Brahms to deal with it. He has no choice, really. He's gonna be the biggest brat because you're not the pretty woman he asked his parents for.

Yet, seeing how well you handle the job, all the patience you have and the kind demeanor you carry, it intrigues him. Until eventually he's attached. He doesn't know what exactly to do with the emotions, because it feels the same way as it did back when he had female nannies, but...you're a man. Isn't that weird? You can thank his old ass parents for that.

When he reveals himself, it's probably an accident. He's worried you'll run away of course, but part of him is also worried you'll whoop his ass. You're bigger than him and he's seen you hoist shit up no problem when cleaning the mansion. Which is very sexy as much as it is intimidating.

But there goes your gentle nature again, despite how you look. You don't run away even if you probably should, and you don't whoop his ass. Brahms is so hooked after that.

He's not going to make it easy for you. He's got it built in his head that he's the man of the house, that's what his father was trying to turn him into after all. But he is not, you are. You may follow his rules but you also keep him in line, you do all the work, and you could probably snap him in half. He can't just outright admit he enjoys it but he does. Especially when he's feeling sensitive and vulnerable. It's comforting to be carried around by a big strong man, probably more than it should be.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

B O T T O M . Holy shit he's a fuckin' bottom. And a pillow princess, for sure. He's there to feel good, what do you mean you want him to do some of the work?

Brahms is horny as hell but he's not really sure what to do. Teaching him what to do as a woman is difficult, but at least he's read some books to have a very hazy idea. Two men? There's like...two books in that library within it that he probably isn't aware are there. But he's willing to learn, as long as it feels good.

"Brahms? Brahms! Come on, Brahms, I'm not mad, you can come out! I wasn't trying to make fun of you!" You called. The only response you got was the echo of your own voice bouncing back from the walls. You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. It really was a misunderstanding. It had been a month and a half since Brahms had been caught outside the walls. It had been quite the experience. Freaky, but, the reality of his situation was heartwrenching, and his pleading for you not to leave really solidified it. It didn't feel right to leave. So you stayed, now properly caring for a grown man instead of a doll.

He was a man, even if he had these slips in mentality where he acted like a kid. But being an adult with barely any contact, affectionate or otherwise, could lead to some issues. One of which caused Brahms to grow extremely embarrassed recently, which was why he'd retreated into the walls. He'd gotten a pretty obvious boner from just a hug, something you had noticed and lightly teased him for. It was an attempt at lightening the mood but it backfired. You'd given him some time, hoping it would settle down and you could talk to him properly. Unfortunately, an hour had passed and he still wasn't out. Now dinner was nearly done and you didn't want him skipping a meal.

Though the dust would've made your allergies hell, you approached a mirror in one of the sitting rooms, setting it up on a wall before slipping through the cutout behind it. You'd never properly gone into the walls, but you'd heard and seen Brahms use the pathways. You rubbed your nose as you took an inhale, immediately burning from all the dust. "No wonder he coughs all the time...poor baby." You muttered as you began walking. It was confusing and you were far more lost than you'd anticipated, but eventually, you saw the glimpse of a bedside lamp.

You were quiet as you approached. Brahms' inner bedroom was...well, sad. Given he felt the need to live all hidden in the walls on an old bed without support, cobwebs everywhere. You could only imagine how bad his lungs would be if he'd been left in here any longer than he had. The man laid on the mattress in the corner, facing the wall, hugging something you could recognize. A sweater that had gone missing from your luggage a while ago. You sighed as you stood, crossing your arms. "Brahms." Your voice made him harshly flinch, scrambling to sit up and push himself more into the corner.

He let out a sad noise and shrank back, making you frown more. "Hey, hey, don't do that. I'm not here to chastise you." You said softly, walking closer. You tried not to think of the cleanliness of his bed as you sat down, keeping some distance so he didn't feel pressured. "Brahms, sweetheart, can you look at me please?" He did as asked, probably because of the pet name. "I'm not upset or anything, you know that, right? I was just trying to make light of it. I wasn't trying to embarrass you." You explained as Brahms picked at a string in the sweater.

"'s embarassing." He muttered. His voice teetered between states, but was overall soft and muffled. "I know, and I'm sorry for teasing you. But it's okay, it's not like you can help it." You reassured. "But, but...but you're a man..." Brahms replied. Oh. You sighed and glanced at the wall, thinking. "Yes, but, that doesn't have to mean anything. I'm sure you've been told that's weird but it's really not. I like men." You shrugged, a bit caught off guard by how shocked Brahms seemed. "Really?" "I- pfft, yeah? Do you think I go around flirting with just every guy friend I have? No." You smiled. Brahms' face grew warm and red under his mask. "I...I didn't know, I wasn't really sure."

"Well yes, I was flirting with you. You can take that how you will. And if something like that happens again, we can deal with it or we can not. But you don't have to run from me, okay?" You whispered, holding out a hand for him to take. He hesitated but did so, even though he didn't move closer either. "Regardless of the situation, you don't need to hide. I don't want you to feel that way with me. Okay?" Brahms swallowed and messed with a ring you wore. He sighed and nodded shyly. His first instinct was always to hide, even if it always made him feel worse after doing it. "Good boy, now come on, it's dinner time and I don't want it getting cold." You stood up and he did the same, messing with the sweater. "You can keep that if you want." Brahms glanced at the fabric. It had some cobwebs on it and a few flyaway strings from him picking at it, but he took off his cardigan and put it over his head. You chuckled and took the opportunity to kiss his temple, putting him more at ease. "We can talk more about it later. Let's get you some food first. Now, help me get out of here because I nearly got lost at least four times." Brahms snickered quietly and walked ahead of you.

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