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strang3lov3 · 7 months

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Massage Chair

Summary: Joel teaches you to massage him, then takes advantage of your new skill. After, he shows his gratitude.

Tags: Lots of joel teasing, malicious compliance, light arguing, smut, fingering, teasing, romantic massaging, creampie, slower and more emotional, joel comforting u after boning.

a/n: thank you for your patience with me! I wanted to have this done last week, but I ended up in the ER which slowed me down a little. But, that gave me more time to write and @papipascalispunk time to beautifully edit this <3 she's such a babe.

(mall rats 5, though can be read as standalone. find more mall rats in my masterlist)

A brown leather chair is flipped on its side, and Joel’s tinkering with the parts inside, cursing and hissing expletives. It’s a broken massage recliner that came with Joel’s house, and he spotted the same model at Macy’s back in the old mall. So he stole bits and pieces, and now he’s attempting to fix the chair. It’s not going too well.

“God bless it,” Joel grumbles at you, “Quit shinin’ the flashlight on the damn floor. Shine it inside the chair.”

“I am shining it inside the chair, Joel,” you argue, “Why don’t you make Ellie hold the flashlight for you?”

“‘Cause she can’t hold it right either. You girls suck at using flashlights,” Joel grimaces as he sits up off the ground, then reaches for your hand that’s holding the light. He manipulates your position, adjusting the way you’re sitting and how you hold the flashlight and says, “There. Stay like that.”

You smirk, “Oh Joel, it makes me so hot and bothered when you take control of me like that.”

Joel sighs, frustrated with you. Like always. “Was that really necessary?”

“Of course it was,” you reply. Moving gingerly, he lays back down on the carpeting. The chair makes small, metallic clanging noises as he works, and you’ve got a perfect view of his ass. So tight and plump in those jeans. What a treat.

Joel turns on his side, twisting his torso to reach for a different screwdriver. This time, he grunts in pain. He works a little longer, then tosses the screwdriver aside before hoisting himself up. His knees crack and ache as he slowly stands up, carefully pulling the chair upright and plugging it into an outlet. You watch as he sits in the chair, lifts up the armrest to press a few buttons, and the chair comes to life. He keeps his eyes squinted shut, his chest rising and falling heavily with every labored breath he takes. He fidgets with the buttons as the chair makes different mechanical whirring noises, vibrating and pressing into his back.

“Can I try it?”, you ask.

“No,” he deadpans, “S’not massagin’ too good anyway – kinda just vibrates. And before you ask – no,” you smirk as he glares at you, “It doesn't vibrate like that. So don’t even think about doin’ that to my chair, you horndog.” He knows you so well.

When Joel is done speaking, he sighs and closes his eyes again. It’s a little awkward, watching Joel sit in his massage chair. He doesn’t seem very comfortable, and it’s making you feel sort of sad. His back has been killing him for weeks. He doesn’t talk about it much, but you can tell it’s getting worse. As he squeezes his eyes shut, those two little lines between his brows grow more prominent than usual. He inhales through his nose and exhales from his mouth, like he’s trying to breathe away the pain.

Before the outbreak, he found things like heated massage chairs and beds that move up and down to be frivolous and unnecessary. In his twenties and thirties, if his back hurt he’d pop a few Advil and tough it out. Not exactly an option now. So, an old massage chair it is.

“Have you been icing your back, Joel?”, you ask but Joel opens just one eye and glares at you. You take his silence as a no. “You need to ice it.”

“My back’s fine,” Joel lies as he rolls his eyes at you, “Go away. Go play in traffic.”

“Are you keeping yourself hydrated?”, you continue.

“Yes.” You look at Joel, then you look next to him. The full glass of water on his end table says otherwise, condensation pooling on the wood. Joel looks there too, then back at you as you stare at him, unimpressed, “Yeah, I drink enough water, dammit. What’s with the third degree?”

You ignore his question, “Are you getting enough rest?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do right now?” Again, you stare at him with an unimpressed expression. Joel sighs, exasperated, “For the love of god, I rest plenty.” Out of all the ways you could annoy him, this is the most brutal. It’s torturous. He continues, “I’d rest easier if you weren’t here, y’know. So get gone. Quit naggin’ me.”

“Charming, Joel. Like always,” you tell him, your tone sarcastic. Lifting yourself up, you stand in front of him and take his hand in your own. You pull with all of your might to lift him up, and drag him to his feet. He groans the entire time.

“Oh, come on,” Joel complains. He knows that look you’ve got on your face, knows that you’re on a mission and he’s coming with. Of course he’s coming with. He’s always stuck with you, somehow. “What are you signin’ me up for now?”, as you lead him to his room, matching his slow pace as he takes heavy steps, so as not to overwhelm his ancient bones.

“Bed,” you tell him.

Oh. Joel gets it now. You’re forcing him to take a rest. Could be worse, he supposes, but he always has a flair for the dramatic, so he sighs heavily as he lays down, making sure you know he is not happy that you’re putting his ass to bed. You untie his boots and pull them off his feet, then toss them aside.

Just as Joel settles on his back, you move to his side of the bed and put your hands under his torso and thigh, then roll him onto his stomach rather harshly. He yelps in pain, “Jesus Christ–”

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. You join him on the bed, straddling his butt, careful not to put too much pressure on him.

Joel is confused beyond words. Before he can process what you’re doing, he feels you bouncing the sides of your hands down his shoulders and spine, and then you’re pinching and smushing his body haphazardly. “Uhh, what are you doin’ to me?”, he questions now. It is a deeply uncomfortable sensation.

“Massaging you, because your chair doesn’t work,” you tell him, continuing your work on his back, “It’ll help you rest. I’m feeding two birds with one scone, Joel.”

“That – that’s not how the phrase – fuck, never mind,” Joel relents, baffled as you “massage” him. He lets you continue for a few moments longer before deciding he’s had enough. “Sweetheart, it’s very kind of you, but you are terrible at this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no, this is god awful. You’re gonna break my damn spine in half,” Joel pauses before speaking again, thinking to himself. There’s no way you’ve had or given a massage before now. “Am I your guinea pig?”

“Kinda,” you answer quietly.

“I could tell,” Joel taps you on the leg twice, “Alright, get off and switch me spots.”

“What for?”, you ask.

“So I can teach ya how it’s done and keep you from committing a fuckin’ felony assault on my back,” he says, “What you’re doin’... it’s inhumane, darlin’.” He’s being very Joel about this. Harsh, a little rude. Dramatic. You climb off him and he scoots off of his bed. “Take off your shirt,” he tells you, “S’rule one of a good massage. You’re supposed to massage a person, not their clothes.”

“Noted,” you say. Joel leaves then, maybe to give you privacy or something, not that you need it. If Joel wants you to strip naked, you’ll strip naked, no questions asked. You’d lay yourself on a silver platter for him, cherries on your ass and an apple in your mouth. Though, you do think it’s sweet he’s trying to keep you feeling comfortable. Joel Miller, always the gentleman.

You strip nude, then lay on your stomach on the bed, right where Joel was. His sheets feel warm from his body heat and they smell like him too, warm and musky and woody. You’re facing his window, where outside it’s overcast and gloomy. On his bedside table sits his book of crossword puzzles.

The stairs and floorboards creak as Joel returns to you. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you naked and face down in his bed, rolling his eyes at your lack of modesty. Joel places a few things on his dresser, then a little glass container full of oil on his bedside table. “Only had to take your shirt off, hon,” he says.

“Oh. I thought you wanted me naked.”

“You’ve got selective hearing,” Joel lowers the curtains by his window and lights a few candles on his dresser, “I think you wanted you naked.” In the darkened room, he moves behind you and you hear the sound of fabric moving before he’s draping a blanket over your bum. You shrug, “Sorry, Joel. Guilty as charged.”

“Uh huh,” he mumbles. Joel rolls up his sleeves before beginning. “You ready?”, you nod, and so does he. He takes the container of oil and drizzles it down your spine. It’s warm, a little sweet and fragrant. You feel relaxed already. Joel then pours some of oil into the palm of his hands and rubs them together. “First thing, you always wanna be mindful of any painful or sensitive areas. Anything you need me to be careful about?”

“Uh, no. My back doesn’t usually hurt,” you tell him.

“Must be nice,” he mumbles. After rubbing his palms together, he places them on your back. He spreads the drizzled oil from your lower back up to your neck and shoulders in long strokes with his palms, so big and strong and warm. You sigh in relief. “The oil makes it easier to glide your hands. Don’t wanna use too much, though. And you’re gonna spread it out, nice and even.”

You nod, your eyes closed, “What about the candles?”

“Candles don’t make a difference. Just thought you’d like ‘em,” Joel whispers.

“I do.”

He spends the next couple minutes using wide, gentle strokes of his hands to completely spread the oil over your body. Once he’s satisfied, he places his hands at your shoulders. He works his thumbs into your traps and up your neck, pushing and sliding them up your skin. “How’s the pressure?”, he asks, “Too much? Not enough?”

“Little too much,” you tell him.

Joel lightens the pressure and continues the motion, “Feel nice?”

All you can do is hum in response. It feels incredible. His hands are so firm and gentle, so careful. Your skin is warm and his touch is comforting. He works his way down your body, massaging and rubbing your muscles. He alternates between circular and back and forth movements.

“Good. Remember that. Be nice and fluid when you massage me,” Joel whispers, “None of that karate choppin’ shit.”

“None of that karate choppin’ shit,” you repeat, matching his tone.

Joel massages you everywhere for the next ten minutes. Instructing you to stay away from the spine directly, but focus your pressure next to it. Focus on the muscles. You can dig your thumbs in, use your knuckles, even the heels of your palms. He tells you he’s being more gentle, but he’s gonna need you to use your body weight.

“You writin’ this down?”, he asks.

“Mmm, yeah. Got my pen and paper right here,” you murmur. He massages a sensitive spot on your back and you moan softly.

“Hey,” he warns, “Don’t be enjoyin’ this so much. S’for my benefit, not yours. I’ve got ulterior motives for massagin’ you.”

“Oh?”, you whisper.

“Yeah, oh. You volunteered yourself to fix my back, so I’m gonna take advantage.”

“Joel?”

“What’s that, hon?” he asks quietly.

“I’m not, fuck, right there,” you breathe, “M’not learning a whole lot. Need some more pointers.”

“Always workin’ an angle,” he retorts, “But I don’t have nothin’ else to tell ya.” Joel massages you quietly for a couple more minutes, generously giving you more massaging than he anticipated. But he likes it, likes knowing you’re feeling good. The soft noises you’re making, how smooth your skin feels. He loves watching the candlelight dance across your skin while he runs his palms up and down your hips, your sides, pouring over your curves. You’re lost in the sensation for a few moments longer before Joel taps your hip, “Alright, time’s up.”

“No, Joel, come on,” you whine, “Not yet, don’t stop now.”

“Move it,” he says, tapping your hip harder, “S’my turn. My back hurts, not yours. You said so yourself.”

You whine again, “Please? Just a little longer.”

“Mmm, nope. Let this be a lesson to ya, don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.” Joel leaves to go to his bathroom then, turns on the hot water in his sink and returns with a warm rag. He gently scrubs your back, removing the excess oil.

Finally, you sit up in defeat. “Give me that,” you grumble, reaching for the rag. You take it to the bathroom and rinse it out for Joel as he begins undressing. When you return, Joel is shirtless face down in his bed, a blanket draped over his ass, just like how he had you.

“Alright hon, I’m ready. Show me whatcha got.”

Standing next to him, you step a little closer to the bed and survey Joel. He’s on his tummy facing you, his eyes shut gently. He looks gorgeous like this, his hair messy, his shoulders thick and broad. You trace the curve of his back with your eyes, curious when you look at his ass. So plump under that blanket. Reaching forward, you lift the blanket.

“What’re ya doin’,” Joel asks in an annoyed tone.

“I’m just…”, you trail off, admiring the swell of his ass cheeks. Joel doesn’t seem to mind when you touch his bum, squeezing the flesh gently and watching it move beneath your fingertips.

“You’re snoopin’,” he answers his own question for you.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You look at Joel again, and he’s still got his eyes shut. A small smile on his face that you know wouldn’t be there if he knew you were looking at his face.

“Why don’t you snoop a little higher, dirty bird.”

“Okay,” you murmur, draping the blanket over his ass. “Can you remind me of step one again?”

“Ah, someone wasn’t payin’ attention,” he teases, “Sure. Ya gotta ask me where it hurts.”

“Where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

You sigh, “Thanks, Joel. That’s helpful.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to give my neck and shoulders a little extra lovin’, though.” You nod, then reach for his shoulders. “Nuh uh,” he tuts, “Oil first.” You reach for the oil and hover it over Joel’s body. “Easy does it. Little goes a long–”, but Joel is interrupted when he feels a large splash of oil on his back, dripping over his sides and onto his sheets. Definitely gonna stain.

“Ah, fuck,” you curse, “My bad.”

“God bless it,” Joel grumbles, “S’alright. Get the rag and clean me up a little.”

Doing as you’re told, you get the rag from the bathroom and wipe away the oil you don’t need. Then you spread the oil on Joel’s back, using your palms to drag it from the area just above his ass cheeks to his wide shoulders. Joel hums in satisfaction. You lean over him to begin massaging his body, but you’re finding it uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I straddle you again?” you ask, “To reach your back easier.”

“Go for it.”

You hold onto Joel’s shoulders for stability as you straddle yourself over him, sitting on his ass and settling your knees at his sides. This way, you have much more mobility. You place your palms at his lower back, thumbs on either side of his spine and press into him hard, then work your hands up his body. He sighs softly. “How’s that?”, you ask.

“Jury’s still out,” he replies, “Do that again, little harder this time.” When you do, Joel sighs deeper, “S’it. Much better.”

You repeat the general motion, but vary your movements. Sometimes letting your hands explore his sides, making big and small circles, large sweeping motions. Joel groans when you walk your thumbs up his spine. “Yeah, very nice,” he praises.

Once at his upper back, you focus pressure on his shoulders and neck. You curl your fingers inward and use your knuckles for added pressure. “Little more,” he tells you. You press harder, but his muscles are so tight. “Harder,” he says, “C’mon, use some elbow grease.”

“I’m gonna hurt you, Joel,” you argue.

“You ain’t gonna hurt me,” he says. “In fact, I want you to try.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, hon. Hard as you can. Like you’re tryna squeeze the life outta me.”

Shaking your head, you try it. You squeeze his traps, digging your thumbs into his flesh as hard as you can. You watch his skin turn white under your fingertips.

“Fuck,” he moans, “There it is. Good girl, doin’ such a good job.”

Oh dear lord. His words go straight to your pussy. You continue to work his neck and shoulders, listening to Joel breathe and sigh, moan and groan. You admire his back, his freckles and moles and stretch marks here and there. “Good girl,” he praises you again. He whispers it over and over and over. Good girl.

He’s making all sorts of sinful noises, cursing all kinds of obscenities, and you’re falling to pieces just listening to him, feeling his hot skin. You picture his face, contorted in pleasure.

You feel warm, your core beginning to ache. You didn’t quite expect to get so worked up over this. As you lean forward over Joel to massage him, you tilt your hips into his back, pressing yourself against him for some sort of relief. Maybe repeating the motion once or twice.

“I can feel that,” he says.

“Feel what?”

“You. Drippin’. Rockin’ those hips on me. You’re makin’ a mess all over me, dirty bird.”

Your cheeks heat up and you’re feeling a little bashful at the accusation.

“Ya gotta finish my massage before we take care of that, hm?”

“Yeah,” you agree. Not like you have much left to do anyway. You’ve been massaging him for half an hour at this point, paid special attention to each area of his back. After massaging him for a few minutes longer, you tap his shoulder blade to let him know you’re done. Joel lifts himself up and begins to twist over, so you lift up to your knees to make room. “Wait, Joel, your sheets–”

“You ruined ‘em already.” He’s right. Oh well.

Once he’s settled, you sit down on his lap. His cock is half hard already. You reach for it, and he swats your hand away. You balk in confusion. “Ya ain’t done yet,” he tells you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Massage tax,” he says plainly, as if somehow you should have known that’s a thing and you roll your eyes, “It’s the law.”

“That is not a law.”

“Is now,” he says, taking his cock into his hand. You watch him work himself, swiping his thumb over the blushed tip a couple of times before holding it tightly, restricting your access.

“Joel,” you whine, “This isn’t– come on, man.”

“I know. I ain’t happy about it either,” he says, though his mischievous smile says differently,

“Government’s just rife with corruption, ain’t it?”

You can’t say you didn’t have this coming. You’ve tormented Joel for months in a myriad of ways. You deserve this.

“I don’t deserve this,” you tell him.

“‘Course not,” he says softly, still holding his member tightly. You try to wriggle his fingers away, but he’s got an iron grip. You sigh in defeat, annoyed. Joel looks all too proud of himself.

“I hate you, Joel.”

“You wound me sweetheart, really. It hurts,” he inhales sharply through his teeth, extending an arm to you, “Hurts almost as much as my arm, you know that? S’been so sore, my hands an’ fingers too.”

Yeah, yeah. You get the picture.

Glaring at him, you watch him shimmy into the pillows and wiggle his arm at you again. You’ve still got some oil on your hands, so you don’t bother with the bottle on his nightstand.

“Start up top,” he instructs you.

You move a little closer, taking his upper arm into your hands. You squeeze the muscles of his biceps and triceps, and as much as this is bothersome, it’s nice too. His muscles are strong, big, and firm. You’ve never really seen them until now. You admire the contours of his arm, the soft lines his muscles make. “And work your way down, down,” he says. And you follow, massaging his forearm. He sighs when you reach his hands, “S’my favorite part,” as you massage his palm, each knuckle of his digits. His hands are worn and calloused.

You drop his hand once you feel like you’ve done enough, “Done.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Hm,” Joel hums before offering you his other arm, holding his cock now with his other hand, “I’ve got an entire arm you haven’t touched yet.” You stare at him with a blank expression. Joel pouts and acknowledges your disappointment by saying, “I know, hon. I’m so sorry.”

You roll your eyes, taking his other arm into your hands. “No, you aren’t.”

“Yeah, I’m not sorry,” he says, “Not one bit.”

And so again, you repeat the motions, first massaging his biceps and triceps. The hand that holds his cock rests between your thighs, and you begin grinding into it. Eyes shut, he raises one brow in amusement at your arousal. You’re soaked.

Finally, he lets himself go. His cock springs free, rock hard with protruding veins, and you inch forward so that it sits between your thighs.

As you massage his forearm now, you rock your hips slightly. Joel surely notices, though he doesn’t mind. You rock yourself quicker, chasing that sweet friction on your clit. Your hands are at his palm now, thumbs urgently rubbing circles into the flesh. You need to be done with this.

“Slow it down,” he tells you, “S’not a race.”

You groan, but slow down anyway. You screw your eyes shut as you massage his palm sloppily, your focus now concentrated on what's happening between your thighs. Your pussy is slick as you roll your hips, grinding against his hard cock. That familiar coil in your gut is back. “Joel,” you cry, “My hands are sore.”

“Now you know how I feel,” he retorts, and you whine impatiently. “Ya never do any hard work in your life. C’mon, you’re almost done,” he taps your ass, “Lift up a little. I like watchin’ you get yourself all worked up on my cock.”

As you work Joel’s hand, you lift yourself, hovering just inches above him. With his free hand, he takes his cock and drags himself through your dripping folds, collecting your slick on his tip. It feels good, your pussy is sensitive. He nudges his head against your clit, back and forth and periodically notches himself at your entrance, playing with you, achingly torturing you. “Joel,” you whine as he teases you, “My thighs are aching, hands too, ca— can’t do this anymore.”

“Sure ya can,” he coos. It feels like you’ve been massaging him for hours, way longer than he massaged you. This isn’t fair in the slightest, even with his back pain.

Truth be told, the hand and arm massage stopped feeling good for Joel a long time ago. You’re aching and tired, and so are your hands, not giving him the proper pressure he needs. But he’s taking advantage of this opportunity to tease you, drive you insane. He feels it’s warranted.

And then finally, finally, he pulls his hand away from you. You’re done.

You flop next to Joel and take his hand back in yours, guiding his fingers to your center. “Please,” you beg him, “Touch me. Do something.”

Joel clicks his tongue, “No can do.”

“What?”

“Yeah, think I just wanna rest now.” You stare at Joel, confused. He shrugs, “And I’m just parched. Need some water. And I’d go and get it, but I don’t want ya to yell at me again. I’m supposed to be resting, like you said.”

“You want me to get you water,” you confirm, annoyed.

“And some ice, too,” he adds.

Joel watches with a smirk on his face as you shove his hand away from your thigh and huff, then stomp out of his bedroom and all the way downstairs. After Joel hears the sound of running water and the slamming of cabinets, you return moments later with a glass of water and some ice wrapped in a towel. You mumble, “You can shove this ice right up–”

“Right up my ass, got it,” Joel takes the ice in one hand and the glass of water in his other. Joel drinks a sip of the water, then makes a disgusted face, “You gave me warm water? What is wrong with you?”

“You didn’t specify the temperature.”

Joel rolls his eyes and sets both the ice and the water on his nightstand. “Fuckin’ psycho,” he mumbles. Even when he thinks he’s one step ahead of you in the never-ending quest to piss one another off, he’s not. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

You smile, “Thanks.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, admiring the mischievous grin on your face and that look in your eye. And then faster than you can blink, he takes your arm in his hand and pulls you back into bed as you giggle. You hear him laughing too, and then he’s situating himself above you. Hovering over you with one arm by your head, he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks on them before bringing his hand between your thighs.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You’re so sensitive and he’s finally fucking touching you, fingertips dragging through your slick folds, circling your clit before dipping one, then two fingers inside you. He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight circles into you. “Quit teasing,” you plead.

Joel laughs breathlessly above you, “M’not teasin’—”

“More,” you interrupt him, “I need more.”

“You got it,” he says, then inserts a third finger. He curls them repeatedly inside you, your pussy gushing and soaking his fingers, making all sorts of wet, sticky noises.

But it’s still not enough. You’re so fucking needy, so ready for Joel to just fuck you. You push his hand away and reach for his cock, wrapping your legs around him and using your feet on his ass to push him down closer to you.

“Ah, fuck,” Joel hisses when he feels your hand touch his member, “Hey, easy, sweetheart. Let’s slow it down.”

“Slow it down my ass,” you argue, “I want you now, Joel.”

“Now?”

“Need you now,” you repeat, tilting your hips and bouncing your heels on his ass, “Now, now, now, now–”

Joel smiles at your desperation, at the way he’s managed to torture you. “Didn’t quite catch that, bad hearing and all that. You want me to fuck you when exactly?”, you cry in pure agony and Joel says, “Gotta mark my calendar, set my alarm clock...”

Your groans of frustration quickly turn into a soft sigh of pleasure as Joel takes you by surprise, pushing his cock inside you deeply, inch by inch, in one fluid motion. The stretch feels incredible and you’re so perfectly full of him. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close with one of your hands resting on his shoulder and the other tangled in the soft curls on his head.

“Been needin’ this, huh?”, Joel asks as he settles inside you, letting you adjust to the stretch.

You nod, your cheek brushing against his scratchy, salt and pepper facial hair. “You’re such an asshole,” you whisper, “You make me so mad.”

“Ditto, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he kisses your cheek. That’s become a regular thing, now. Always kissing your forehead, your cheeks. It always makes you blush. Joel pulls out of you nearly all the way before pushing back in. Over and over, building to a steady pace, and he makes soft grunts as he fucks you.

You love how he cages you in, surrounds you, the low light of the candles dancing on his face as he fucks you passionately. And he’s watching you, big brown eyes full of something you can’t quite read. He pulls your hand from his hair and pins it next to your head, his fingers interlaced with your own. It’s sweet and it’s intimate, almost too intimate.

You can’t take this right now. Can’t deal with the way it feels, to be treated so specially by Joel.

You untangle your fingers from his, and he watches you with a confused expression on his face. Reaching low, you slap his ass, “C’mon, fuck me harder. Use some elbow grease,” you mock his words from earlier, “Or does your old ass back hurt too much?”

Joel stills and stares at you. You stare back, challenging him. “Why are you bein’ like this?” he asks, “Do y’always have to instigate?”

“Think I just heard your hip crack, too,” you tease, but it gets no reaction from Joel.

“Quit while you’re ahead,” he warns, then composes himself before speaking again, “Have some faith. You trust me?”

There’s something different about the way he’s looking at you, watching you. You’re apprehensive, but you nod anyway.

“I said, we’re gonna slow it down this time,” he whispers, “Gonna go nice and slow.”

Joel pulls out of you then, and you groan in disappointment. He silences your displeasure with a quiet shhhh, then moves lower down your body. He runs his hands over your tummy, up your sides, tracing each and every curve. Kisses one hip bone, “I know I was teasin’ ya,” he says, “And I really put ya to work with that massage. That you offered t’do, mind you,” he adds as he kisses your other hip bone, “Really didn’t think that you were gonna get me ice and a glass of water. Wasn’t surprised when you told me to shove it up my ass, but I wasn’t expectin’ to drink warm water. Was a nice touch, trouble.”

You begin to speak, but you stammer, struggling to find the right words. You squirm under his touch. He’s being so gentle, so sweet that he’s got you all flustered now.

“Yeah, I know, sweet girl,” Joel mumbles against your skin. Pressing soft and wet kisses on your body, his fingers leisurely dragging through your dripping folds as he looks up at you, “I want you to know that I appreciate you. I appreciate all the ass backward things you do for me. I really do.”

“Joel, I–fuck,”, you moan. He’s pumping his fingers inside you again, now licking and kissing your nipples, swirling his tongue over the soft skin, worshiping every inch of your body.

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head. Y’still drive me fuckin’ nuts.” You laugh breathlessly, voice caught in your throat as Joel kisses up your neck, up your jaw, your chin, and stopping just before your lips when he hears your breath hitch. He searches your eyes, sensing your apprehension. He knows the weight of the intimacy that kissing your lips holds, especially since it’s been put off so long. He’s gonna kiss you. Just not yet. “Now can we try this again?”

When you whisper a quiet yes, he enters you for a second time, burying himself inside of you. He begins to fuck you again, slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of him, parts of him you don’t usually feel. His quiet breaths on your skin, the thick vein of his cock, his soft tummy, so warm against yours. Usually he fucks you hard, fast. But today, he’s savoring you. You dig your heels into his ass, faster. It has to be faster.

“Don’t fight me on this,” he says, “We can just be nice, pretend you like me and I like you. Just this once. We don’t always have to argue.”

“Joel,” you whine, “Please. I can’t–I want–”

“I know what you want, ya want what we’re used to. But s’not so bad, I promise,” he purrs above you, “Tell me– fuck, tell me how you feel.”

Exposed, but good. Really good. It’s new and unfamiliar, but so fucking good, but it feels like a crime to admit that. “Joel,” is all you can say, “Joel.”

“I know,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours, one hand on your waist holding you tight as he fucks you, “Doin’ so good for me.”

You still can’t bring yourself to say anything, don’t know how to respond to him. You’re at a loss for words, feeling him like this. How warm and protected and loved you feel. Your skin is on fire and you can’t help but close your eyes, retreating inward. But as different as this is, you don’t want him to stop, so you hold him tighter, pulling his face down to yours and burying yourself in his neck.

Joel fucks you like that for a while. Just like that, with every thrust being intentional, feeling devastatingly good. You lose yourself in the feeling and Joel seemingly does as well. Words are left unspoken as he savors this moment with you.

Hours could have passed, you wouldn’t know. Joel’s movements are becoming erratic, quicker. “Come with me,” he begs, resting his forearm above your head and moving the other to your center, as he paints tight circles around your clit, “I want you to come with me, sweetheart. Please.”

It’s not long after that when that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach is back, fluttering and intense. “Oh, god,” you moan, “M’close.”

“That’s it, just let yourself go,” he breathes, “With me, now.”

His words are all it takes. Your orgasm washes over you slowly, intensely. It’s powerful, the way lava flows from the earth, setting your skin ablaze. It’s overwhelming as Joel fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He makes broken moans and grunts as he comes with you, painting your insides with his hot seed.

He pants on top of you, catching his breath before pulling out of you, not caring that you’re now dripping his spend onto his bed. He lays next to you, pulling you into his side with your legs tangled between his and your head resting on his shoulder.

You’re crying, quietly. That’s never happened before. Joel feels your tears dripping down his skin, and he looks at you with concern.

“M’fine, Joel, I was just–It was just–”

Joel speaks to you soothingly, “I know, I know,” he whispers, “I’m right here.”

He just holds you like that, his fingertips trailing over your skin in lazy patterns. When he chuckles to himself, you look at him. “What?” you ask.

“Warm water,” he says, amused, “You amaze me.”

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel #mall rats

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miguelhugger2099 · 4 months

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What a Man!

Summary: Times where Miguel reminded you that he's kinda the ideal man. Art by AndalusiaLu on twt :) Next>> Miguel x GN!Reader, Fluff, Drabble

You were used to dating shitty men. One way or another they'd disappoint you so you've learned to pick your poison. You'd much rather date a broke man than an abusive one, as sad as that sounds.

So, when you meet Miguel, a six foot nine, muscle built rich man, you half expected for him to fall into one--but not limited to--three categories. Gym rat, machismo, or a entitled narcissist. It wouldn't be your first and it wouldn't be your last either. But, you were pleasantly surprised when he offered to take you out to a nice restaurant as a first date.

You asked for the address of the place he named and were met with pure confusion on Miguel's end. "Why would you need the address?" He asked.

"So I can drive there?" You raised an eyebrow. Miguel's lips tugged downward.

"I was planning on picking you up," He shrugged. "But if it's a matter of safety, then let me at least pay for your ride there and home."

You were gobsmacked. No forcing you in his car? And he offered to pay for the expenses? You pushed down the slight leap in your chest and coughed. "Picking me up is fine."

Miguel had set the time to pick you up at six thirty and when he texted he was outside, you had to embarrassingly ask him for another five minutes to finish the touches on your outfit. He assured you it was fine and to take your time but you still hurried anyway, not wanting to take up too much time when he's the one driving.

You opened the door the exit and you gasped, taking a step back at seeing Miguel right in front. His back was facing you but when he heard you and the door opening, he turned around and gave you a charming smile. In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers, his suit neatly tailored and it looked snug on his toned body. His white collar was popped open just enough to see the gold chain draped on his neck.

"Forgive me. I should've asked what type of flowers you liked beforehand but I hope these roses will do." Miguel handed them to you and you had to remember to pick your jaw up off the ground. Flowers? On the first date? Flowers at all? You accepted the bouquet with a bashful smile, smelling the fresh scent of the roses with a murmur of your favorite flower.

Miguel's smile grew slightly at your pleased reaction. "I'll be sure to remember that, cariño." He held out his hand to you and you took it with him then leading you to his car.

You subconsciously reached for his car door handle but his larger hand reached for it first. Popping it open, he helped you inside the comfy leather seat of his luxurious car with a gentle squeeze of your hand and closing the door. He opened the door for you? Good lord. You fanned your face to ease the heat growing on your cheeks and dumb smile on your lips.

On the road, he engaged in small talk that consisted of asking about your day, listening to your small rants about work with him pitching in when you asked your own questions. The chemistry was there, conversation and bantering flowing seamlessly between the two of you.

Once at the restaurant, not only had he opened the door for you but also pulled out your chair! You two picked up the menu and you struggled to find the cheapest option available, not wanting to hurt his pockets. Seeing your eyebrows knit together, Miguel nudged the menu down with his finger to meet your eyes.

"Pick what you want. I'm paying anyway." He tilts his head slightly.

You chuckle nervously. "I just don't want you to spend too much. It's rude."

Miguel tuts, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, like I said, I'm the one taking you out. Everything is on me," He leans back in his chair, gazing at the steak section. "Besides, I have more than enough. A few extra dollars won't make a difference."

Jesus Christ. These prices couldn't hurt his bank account when yours is crying just looking at it? "Well, maybe this pasta here looks good?" You point to the one you've been subtly eyeing. Miguel gives a hum of approval.

"You have a good eye." He praises with a small wink and making you giggle. The waiter comes by to collect your order, Miguel adding a wine by a name you can't pronounce. He then hands both your menus to the waiter and faces you again.

"Now, what was that about your boss giving you shit at work?" He smirks, remembering and even wanting to hear the rest of your story from the car. You laugh and lean your elbows on the table, starting from the top while Miguel listens with open ears.

After being in an established relationship, you learned Miguel was private about your relationship but not secretive about it. He often invited you as his plus one to his works banquets at Alchemax, his arm around you at all times whether on your shoulder or around your waist.

Miguel would show you off with pride. "And who's this lovely one next to you?" Someone would ask mid-conversation. He'd perk up, standing a bit taller and moving his hand to the middle of your back.

"This is my wonderful partner." He smiled, announcing your name to them and kissing your temple. You felt shy even with the small public display of affection. Too much made you feel icky and too little made you feel sad---Miguel knew just the right amount to get your heart fluttering.

While Miguel had been talking to another group of men, you tugged on his suit to grab his attention. He immediately put the conversation on hold and looked down on you with a hint of of concern. "What's wrong?"

You smiled reassuringly. "Nothing. I'm just gonna grab a drink--kinda thirsty. Want one?" You asked. Miguel relaxed after knowing you were okay and he nodded.

"That'd be great. Gracias, cariño." He lifted your chin to give you a quick peck that you reciprocated and slipped you his card before letting you be to find the bar.

You squeezed through the crowd of rich and smart people alike, making your way to the familiar counter filled with various types of alcohol. You leaned over to catch the bartenders attention and order two drinks, passing Miguel's card to him and sat on the stool while you waited.

You glanced around the banquet, mindlessly taking everything in to the chandeliers and the different types of people you'd never thought you'd be in the same room if it weren't for Miguel. Speaking of which, your eyes landed on him, smiling to yourself as he chatted along with his colleagues. You admired the way he was confident but not egotistical, kind but not a push-over, humble but knows his worth. You really lucked out with this one.

The clinking of two glass cups snapped you out of your lovesick gaze and you smiled at the bartender, giving your thanks. You hopped off the stool and picked them up carefully before looking up and stopping in your tracks. Where you meant to walk towards Miguel, there was an older man introducing what you guessed was his daughter to Miguel. In the pit of your stomach, you pushed down the feeling of jealousy, instead focusing your emotion on how Miguel would react.

You've spent too much time entertaining men and their games, whether it was to purposefully piss you off or discard you for an ounce of someone else's attention. So you watched how Miguel would handle it and you hoped he wouldn't disappoint you.

The woman smiled a little too big for your liking, obviously making herself seem more attractive in his eyes. Which would've been fine--if it wasn't to your man. Your eyes narrowed when she reached for his bicep but then Miguel stopped her. You blinked as you saw him try to shove her off as professionally as possible but you saw him clench his jaw to hide his disgust. He faced the older man without sparing another glance at the appalled woman, gesturing to himself and shaking his head. You assumed he was explaining he was taken and was proven right when he turned in your direction and his eyes met yours. His face morphed into something softer when he looked at you, a smile on his face when he turned back to the man-- "happily in a relationship" his lips said.

The weight in your chest lifted instantly. Miguel wasn't playing a childish game to make you jealous and he was committed to you. To you, he had gotten so much more attractive in your eyes.

You felt a small poke to your shoulder and you turned around, seeing a man with slicked back blonde, almost white, hair. He sized you up and down which made an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine. You took a step back and smiled politely. "Can I help you?"

The man chuckles. "Just wondering what a pretty thing like you is doing all by yourself. Especially with two drinks. Someone ditch you? That's a shame." He sauntered over closer to you but you took another step back up until you hit a wall. Or what you thought was a wall. You smelled the familiar scent of Miguel's signature cologne and looked up.

Miguel was right behind you, his eyes void of the softness just moments ago and narrowed at the man in front of you. His arm had wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer to him possessively, his other hand taking one drink from your hand. "Thank you for getting us a drink, mi vida," He kissed your temple then down to your cheek. "Kron, seems you've just met my partner." His smile was strained as he hissed out 'partner'.

Kron, as you now know, had stopped smiling instantly. He tried hiding the obvious hatred for Miguel but it still seeped out. "Miguel," He greeted. "Seems I have. Didn't mean to intrude. Have a nice night." He excused himself and grumbled while walking away. Miguel watched as he did so, taking a sip of the drink you had gotten him, the cubes tinkling against the glass. He bent down to your ear after swallowing the bitter taste, his breath warm and tickling you with how close he got.

"From now on, you don't leave my side. I can't bear people thinking you're not mine." His deep voice rumbled and his grip never left your waist the whole night. Wherever you went, he went along and wherever he went, his hand was always somewhere on your body. You head spun the rest of the night, flushed next to him while he managed to slip in that you were his in every conversation and even stealing a few kisses here and there. To have a man this proud of you, it made your heart flutter like no other. Private but not secretive.

A/N: something short and sweet in the middle of writer's block :')

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099

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wynnyfryd · 8 months

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Trailer Park Steve AU

part 1

“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.

Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”

“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”

Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”

Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”

He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.

A lot of people aren’t around anymore.

Nobody fights for fallen kings.

So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.

From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.

Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)

“You want to try that again?”

Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.

Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.

Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”

Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”

Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.

A little stiff in his jeans.

When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.

“M’row,” says the cat.

There’s a dead bird at her feet.

—

part 3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #trailer park steve au

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rzyraffek · 1 year

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Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you 🧍 " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #hush headcanon #hush 2016 #hush x reader #the man x reader

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illubean · 2 months

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Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3

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scatterbrainedbot · 5 months

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Hello :D

You're so cool

Anyway have you thought that in your rat sons au Splinter might outlive the boys?

You're very cool :D love your stuff dude

(tw for some blood, light gore, implied overdose (kinda??))

hi copper!!! this is a fantastic question!

so obviously typical irl rats have far shorter lifespans than the average irl tortoise. according to google (yes, be awed by my spectacularly in-depth wealth of research) the average pet rat lives between 2-4 years ish, and the oldest on record lived to be about 7. meanwhile, an African spurred tortoise (Splinter's species) averages more around a 50ish year lifespan in captivity, tho is suspected to possibly exceed 75 or more in the wild.

Now, the mutation does give us a lot of wiggle room for playing with these numbers. For the rat sons boys, id say their natural lifespan probably clocks in at about 45-55 years old? definitely not old by human standards, but not young young either. (though, its also important to note that the boys were exposed to the mutagen just days after being born.)

For Splinter, meanwhile, aging is slightly more complicated. He lived the vast majority of his life as a regular normal African spurred tortoise (well, non-mutated at least. there were perhaps some shenanigans of a more mystical variety going on before he was mutated, but thats a separate matter) He was about 70ish i think? when the boys were born and they were all exposed to the mutagen. so he is already distinctly an old man turtle papa. id guess he'd probably still have another eh lets say 25-30 years after his mutation. he could probably push it a little farther even with some mystic nonsense, but when push comes to shove id say his 'natural' post-mutation lifespan would put his death like a solid decade or two before his sons.

of course, the tricky part of the matter is that theres no way for Splinter to know any of this. theres no way for him to know how the mutation affected them all, or if it even affected them all in the same way. especially since the boys dont show many physical signs of mutation for the first few years, and just kinda look like normal rats, (albeit with a more human sort of intelligence) — what sort of health standard do you hold them to? what if they simply dont show external signs of sickness or old age anymore? how do you actually know if something is wrong?

for a while there Splinter is very worried that one of his babies will just essentially reach the end of their normal rat lifespan, fall and not get up again.

so mostly, he just tries to live in the moment, enjoying whatever time he does have with his little ones, taking each day as a gift <3

still,

that fear

never

really

goes

away.....

#cue the 2003 tmnt dramatic Shredder sound effect TM #my art #rat sons #tmnt au #ask reply #TOOK ME A FULL MONTH TO ANSWER AND IM STILL NOT SUPER PLEASED WITH THE RESULTS BUT #also apologies if shits incohierent im v sick rn #but thank you so much for the question copper!!#a parents grief and terror at the thought of outliving their children #always gets me #and boy howdy these rat babies do Not make that shit easy for ol Splinter #all of them have brushed too close to death too many times #tbh thats probably why he started teaching them ninjutsu etc #like yeah yeah discpline and routine and practice all excellent lessons #but also #yall squishy babies and ur father is Stressed please learn to fight good so its one less thing he has to worry about #sorry splints theyre hamatos now theyre destined for danger #cw blood #cw gore

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moneyndior · 3 months

Text

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫and i promise forever.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! percy, hypothetically, confesses his feelings.

tags/warnings: percy jackson x reader, tv!percy for the theme, however, book percy was in mind, reader is hyper aware of what people think, awkward teenagers interacting, friends to lovers, the lake kinda rats percy out, not proofread.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷: take a shot everytime hypothetically is in this fic

—

“hypothetically, how well can you keep a secret?”

“i’ve been your friend for god knows how long and you don’t know how well i can keep a secret?”

you asked, snickering as you hugged your knees closer to your chest. the sun was starting to set over camp half-blood and the last thing on your mind was getting to your cabins on time.

watching the lake’s waves splash against each other, the leaves in the trees whistled together. you two were relaxing after what feels like years.

you two didn’t particularly ask to be demi-gods.

“‘oh, very well, percy. thanks for asking!’ would’ve worked too.”

he mumbled more to himself than you, mimicking your voice as he made the pitch in his higher.

“oh, very well, percy. thanks for asking!”

you mocked, blinking in an over exaggerated manner. curiosity began to fill your head, questions racing in your mind. however, with how you are, you didn’t wanna come off annoying. so, deciding to kill two birds with one stone, you just asked,

“why?”

“because i have another hypothetical question to ask you.”

you rolled your eyes, another chuckle leaving your throat. percy was never the type of kid to just ask one thing and move on.

“wow, shocker.”

“shush. anyways—hypothetically speaking here—i have a crush. and, remember..all hypothetical, the crush was you…”

percy mumbled, breaking eye contact to look at the lake, the waves in the water beginning to splash a little faster and a little more hectically.

your mind went blank as you tried to process what he was saying. even if it was all hypothetical, hypothetical wouldn’t change the false hope he was feeding you.

“and i asked you out. because i, technically, really like you. would you say yes?”

percy asked, his words coming out jumbled and frantic, matching the water in front of you two.

“hypothetically, of course.”

he added, his tone still fast, his heartbeat speeding up along with it. the silence from your end made his blood run cold from embarrassment.

“uhm,”

you managed to squeeze out, your voice way more unstable than you’d like it to be in this situation

“hypothetically…i’d have to ask how well you keep a secret.”

well, shit. if this isn’t the start to a rejection—percy doesn’t know what is.

“pretty well.”

you gulped, biting the inside of your cheek as you went through every possibility and every word in any dictionary ever to find the perfect words to use.

“i’d tell you that in this hypothetical situation…i, also, really liked you and that i’d say yes any day.”

percy didn’t know what to do in all honesty. all he could do was grin from ear to ear as the sound of the waves getting quicker blocked out any other background noise.

“seriously?”

“yup.”

you nodded, your eyes shifting down to the ground for a second or two.

“well, uhm, would you like to go out? maybe? non-hypothetically?”

percy asked, his small flush across his cheeks making his face feel hot. he, unconsciously, leaned closer to you in anticipation.

“yeah, i would.”

with your confirmation, percy felt a bolt of energy enter his body. he nodded, chuckling to himself as his smile begin to hurt his cheeks.

“cool.”

he muttered, feeling anything but cool as he leaned back away from you. the both of you sat in silence until you stood up, dusting yourself off.

percy looked up at you, his knees to his chest, lips slightly parted. you bent down, brushing his hair behind his ear, kissing his temple lightly.

“can’t wait, percy.”

you mumbled before walking off, leaving percy alone with his thoughts and the way-too-out-of-control lake. as what happened slowly proceeded in his mind, a wave hit his legs.

sure, his pants are now wet. sure, he looks like a goddam dork right now. but who cares? he just got a date with the girl of his dreams. all he could do his care about you and only you.

not something silly like water, or the hypothetical, or what lie he’s gonna use to explain why his pants are wet.

#`⌁ ◜ viv’s reqs !◞˖ ࣪#—PERCY JACKSON #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson blurb

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candycandy00 · 7 months

Note

hello! i just came by one of your post, and checked your profile for more. could you do a rape scenario for sukuna? it can be short, or long, anyway you prefer, no pressure <3

Smut. 18+. Rape/Noncon! This is a very brutal little fanfic! Do not read if things like this bother you! Contains blood/torture/humiliation/double penetration. All the bad things! This turned out way longer than I planned but I got kinda into it lol. Goes harder than I intended too but let’s face it: being raped by Sukuna would be a very hard experience.

You were a powerful sorceress. That’s what everyone had told you since you were a young girl. Your power dwarfed that of every other person in your large village, and so you were treated as special, almost like a deity. You had your own group of guards, whom you cherished as dear friends, and you adored the villagers who showered you with gifts.

So when the monster Ryomen Sukuna attacked your village, you didn’t even hesitate to step in and try your best to protect it. You were a bit naive, having been sheltered by the villagers, but you were not stupid. You had heard rumors about Sukuna, and so you were aware that you probably didn’t stand a chance against him. Still, if you could only keep him distracted long enough for some of the villagers to flee into the mountains, it would be worth trying to fight him.

He was most likely after the cache of cursed weapons and items stored there, and would probably have little interest in chasing down the people scurrying like rats. You would offer the treasures to him, but he was already in the village, already slaughtering everyone who stepped into his path. He would listen to no offers, no negotiations. So you dismissed your guards, who only left when you commanded them to guard the children as they were evacuated, and then hurried to the village square to confront Sukuna.

When you saw him, your heart nearly stopped. He was far more terrifying than you had ever imagined. It wasn’t just the four arms and four eyes, the massive height, the muscular figure. It was the aura he emitted, the crushing pressure of his very presence. Every inch of your body was screaming for you to run, or to immediately drop into a bow and beg for your life. This man was a cruel and brutal beast. He would tear you apart if you displeased him in the slightest of ways. That’s what you felt when you looked at him.

Even so, there was something awe-inspiring about him. You understood instantly how he had brought so many villages to heel and why people were drawn to him. There was a savage beauty to him that made your heart pound furiously.

But despite all of this, you still had to fight him. Every second you could buy was another second for the villagers to escape.

“If it’s the cursed tools you want, you can have them,” you shouted to him from several feet away. “Spare the rest of the villagers, and you can take them all with no resistance!”

He looked at you then, his red eyes all four sweeping over you. “What resistance?” he asked with a laugh, sending invisible blades slicing through a woman who was running by you. Her blood splattered across your robe.

As you suspected, trying to talk to him was pointless. Battle was the only language he understood at that moment.

So you attacked him. The fight was brief, lasting less than half an hour and consisting mainly of you evading his slashes while failing to get a solid hit on him. You got the impression he could have ended the fight instantly but had chosen to toy with you first. In the end, his slashes ripped through you, shredding your robes as well as your flesh, leaving you a bloody mess on the ground.

As your life faded, you saw him walking toward you, and to your great surprise, he used his Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you! Not enough to restore you completely, but enough to pull you out of the dying state. You were still covered in slash wounds, but they were closing up and no longer pouring blood. You struggled to get to your feet, realizing with embarrassment that your clothing had been completely destroyed, leaving you naked and totally vulnerable before this monster. You wrapped your wounded arms around yourself and looked at him questioningly, wondering why he spared you.

You got your answer soon enough.

He’d dragged you into the shrine, sat down on the raised dais, and pulled your bare, cut up body into his lap. You were too terrified, and too weak, to struggle. You’d used up all your cursed energy in your vain attempt to stall him, and you’d lost a lot of blood. It was still dripping down your body in small, slow trickles.

When he reached down with one of his four hands and pulled his own robe open, you nearly screamed. Revealed to you were two gigantic cocks, one above the other. Both were standing tall and hard. Apparently the battle, brief and one-sided as it was, had aroused him. Or maybe it had been the sight of your naked, bloody flesh. Regardless, you understood what was happening, and your only comfort was that more of the villagers would have a chance to escape while Sukuna was violating you.

Just then you heard a commotion at the shrine’s entrance, and the worst possible sight greeted you when you looked up. Your guards, the handsome and kind hearted young men who were charged with protecting you, had rushed in. The look of horror on their faces probably mirrored your own. You could only imagine what they were thinking, finding you in this state.

They ran forward, intending to help you, but the first one was sliced to ribbons before he got even a foot closer. The rest of them paused, but clearly were prepared to run at Sukuna again, but Sukuna’s smooth voice stopped them.

“Take another step, and I’ll slice her up the same way.”

They all froze, their infuriated eyes watching Sukuna’s hands jerk your arms behind your back while the other two moved over your body.

“Kneel,” he told them, and they quickly dropped to their knees. Sukuna grinned. “All of you watch.”

You turned your face to look at him. “Please, no! Just let them go! I won’t struggle!”

His haunting red eyes met yours as a wicked smile spread over his face. “I want you to struggle,” he said, and his two free hands yanked your legs apart, exposing you to your guards.

To a man, they all looked away, but then you felt a painful slash across your shoulder. Blood spurted as you cried out, and the guards looked back up. Sukuna didn’t even have to speak the threat for your guards to understand.

Sukuna shifted his hands so that only one of them was holding your wrists behind your back. Only one was needed. Two of them were still holding your thighs wide apart, and the last one moved down between your legs, his fingers gliding across your slit. One finger slipped between the delicate flesh and found your most sensitive spot, stroking it with agonizing gentleness. You didn’t want to feel pleasure in this situation, from an evil, sadistic man who’d murdered many of your friends, and right in front of your poor guards who were forced to watch. But Sukuna’s fingers moved masterfully, rubbing in exactly the right way to send jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You quivered in his lap, trying to pull your hands free, trying to close your shaking legs, but it was no use. Your struggling and fighting only seemed to excite him.

He pressed his mouth against your ear, and said in a low, sultry voice, “For a nobody in a backwater village like this, you’re pretty strong. But that’s alright. I enjoy breaking the strong ones.”

Suddenly you felt something wet and soft moving over your clit. You looked down in alarm to find a mouth in his palm, the lips open and a long tongue protruding from it, lapping at your spread open pussy. You cried out in surprise, and then in horror when you realized the pleasure was becoming too much for you. Sukuna was going to make you cum right here in front of your guards.

You struggled again, jerking against his grip, but it only made him laugh loudly.

“You should be thanking me,” he said. “If I don’t get you properly slicked up, my cocks are going to rip you apart.”

You whimpered in response, tears filling your eyes. You knew what was coming, but having him verbally confirm it broke your spirit.

You’d been avoiding the eyes of your guards. You couldn’t bear to meet their gazes. But there was one you’d been particularly close to, and you couldn’t help seeking his face for some small bit of comfort. But when you looked at him, you found his face flushed pink as he watched you writhe about in Sukuna’s grasp.

Sukuna chuckled in your ear. “Your guards are starting to enjoy the show.” The words cut you deeper than any of Sukuna’s slashes had. These men were your friends! Some were like brothers to you!

Suddenly Sukuna’s hand-tongue plunged inside you while his fingers pinched your clit. You moaned despite yourself, your back arching against your will. You’d never felt anything like this, and with tears of shame and pain running down your face, you came on Sukuna’s hand.

When it was finally over, and you were a trembling mess in Sukuna’s lap, you hung your head low and sobbed. You were so ashamed of yourself for feeling pleasure, for having an orgasm from the touch of this brutal conqueror. But your torment was only beginning.

You felt Sukuna lift your whole body up, then position the tip of his absurdly huge upper cock at your entrance. Then without hesitation, he pulled you down, roughly and quickly, impaling you.

A scream erupted from your mouth as you felt yourself stretching past your limits, your skin slightly tearing, warm blood trickling down your thighs. Sukuna was merciless, immediately beginning to move you up and down his length with two of his powerful hands, as if you were a toy to him. You cried, you struggled, but it only made his movements faster, harsher. He was enjoying your pain, laughing at your humiliation.

Eventually, after an unknown amount of time passed during which you almost blacked out twice, you heard his voice again. “My lower cock is feeling neglected.”

You were half conscious, but you snapped to awareness when you felt his other tip pressing into you. His fingers had slid in beside his upper cock, and were stretching you even further open, to make room. You looked back at him in disbelief. “Y-you can’t! That would kill me!”

Again he put his warm mouth close to your ear as he said, “From the moment you attacked me, you’ve been living on borrowed time. At least use your pitiful death to please me.”

You glanced out at your guards, your addled mind somehow hoping they could save you. But they were all frozen, the ones that had looked slightly aroused earlier now looked horrified as they realized what Sukuna was doing. A few of them had tears in their eyes.

“Please send them away,” you begged. “Don’t make them watch me die.”

“But that’s the best part!” he said, the grin on his face looking slightly unhinged.

And then, the second cock shoved its way in. You gasped first, then screamed as he sheathed it completely inside you, ripping you open in the process. As he began moving you up and down, drilling into you, the pain was blinding, maddening. You wondered if this was what giving birth felt like.

Two of his hands were on your waist, lifting you up and down, one was still holding your wrists behind you. The fourth hand touched your face, turning it to the side so that he could look at you, so he could watch the agony in your eyes. For a moment, he wore no expression at all. And then he dipped his head closer to yours and kissed your mouth. It was a bizarrely sensual kiss, a kiss for lovers. Gentle, slow, intimate. It confused you more than anything.

He released your wrists, but you were too weak to do anything useful with them, so they dropped limply to your sides. The hand he’d been using to restrain you slid down, and again a mouth appeared in his palm, the tongue softly circling your clit.

You wanted to scream again, to beg him to stop. Don’t make me feel pleasure while you’re killing me! you thought. But your tortured body sought out any relief it could find, any sensation that didn’t hurt. And Sukuna’s tongues, one in your mouth and one gliding wetly over your clit, did not hurt. In fact they were the only things that didn’t.

So your body responded. Even as his twin cocks tore through you, even as you could hear blood dripping onto the floor, you moaned into Sukuna’s mouth. Reflexively, without your permission, one of your hands moved up to touch his face as he kissed you, sliding back and into his hair. You felt him smile against your mouth, his eyes shimmering with delight.

You didn’t want this. You could think of very few things you could want less than being violently raped by Sukuna in front of your helpless guards. But the human body does all sorts of strange things to cope, to survive. So you came, moaning and crying at the same time, your body twitching in his hands, your guards looking on in horror.

Eventually, Sukuna’s cocks shot out massive loads of cum, first the upper one and then the lower one, completely filling you. Afterwards, he pushed you off his lap, and you landed unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, blood and cum pouring out of you.

You were certain you were dying, and within seconds you passed out right there on the floor of the shrine.

When you awoke, Sukuna had taken all the cursed tools your village had been guarding and left. You heard from one of your guards, who refused to look you in the eye, that Sukuna had healed you almost completely before leaving. You had no idea why.

You also found out the majority of the villagers had made it safely into the mountains, and were now being escorted back by the guards. So even though you had gone through hell and back, you would still do it again. Your suffering saved a lot of lives, and you could live with that.

Sometimes you wondered why Sukuna spared you, and even went so far as to heal you. Maybe it was just a whim. Or maybe he thought he might return someday to terrorize you again. Either way, you had survived. Your village had survived.

#Sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #Sukuna #ryomen sukuna #tw: rape #tw: blood #tw: torture

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browniefox · 9 months

Text

The (New) +Anima Au Guide!

A few months ago, I made a post about the basics of +anima, and now I realize it was kinda bad, so I'm making it again! So, here's a little guide to the basic world of +anima - mostly how anima work - in hopes to inspire people to create +anima aus!

What is +Anima?

+Anima is a ten-volume manga written by Natsumi Mukai. It is very good and cute, you should read it! It revolves around a world where certain people have something called an anima.

When a child is put into a life-threatening situation, there's a chance that they will get the abilities of a nearby animal - granting them wings like a bird, or tail of a fish, for example - in order to survive the situation. It's like if trauma gave you cat ears!

Nana, for instance, was running from her drunk and angry father in the woods at night, and got a bat anima. Natural anima only happen to children.

Getting an anima, or seeing someone with an anima, is rare enough that, even if people are aware of what anima are, those with bird or fish anima are often confused for angels or mermaids. Those with anima are usually treated poorly and feared as something dangerous and scary.

Those with anima are able to look like normal humans most of the time, accessing their anima and transforming back and forth at will. When appearing like a normal human, however, there is still proof of being an anima by way of a marking(s) somewhere on their body. The marking reflects the animal/trait that they have, the location usually correlates with there or how the trait shows up.

As an anima is connected to survival, children with them usually lose their anima as they grow older and find themselves in better situations. In the manga, most of the anima are either kids or teens. There are a few cases of adults with natural anima, two being seemingly homesless men (one seems to be a rat anima, while another is a bison), and a few who are of the Native American-Coded group in the manga, the Kim-un-Kur, who are known to keep their anima through adulthood seemingly because 1. it's less ostracized against, 2. their life style probably is better with one, and 3. they're more in tune with nature and their anima.

(^this is the the buffalo anima and a crow anima)

There is also such a thing as 'fake' or 'manufactured' anima, but only in a sense. There's a way to extract the anima from a person, though if the person is not willing the anima will not remain after the procedure. When willingly extracted, however, the anima can then placed into another person, though the connection between human and anima seems to be tenuous, and the anima may choose to leave.

Outside of a 'manufactored' anima, in canon there is one instance of an anima hopping from one human to another, though in that case the anima was that of a vicious and vengeful bear.

While in-fiction it's mostly hinted at and a little vague, it seems that the anima - as in the animal power itself - seems to have some degree of sentience, as it seems its the anima that makes makes the choice when to leave the human. It seems to be that the spirit of the animal literally ends up in the human that gains the anima.

Those with anima also seem to be able to do a further transformation into a more animal-like form called metamorphosis.

As you may have noticed me doing throughout the post, those with anima are usually just referred to as ‘anima’, though the animal spirit in the is also called their ‘anima’.

In the world of +Anima, there is also a side of the continent that has big market in anima slave trade, so make of that what you will.

Anyway, I find the world of +Anima FASCINATING, please talk to me about +Anima and make aus I love it.

(These are the four main characters of the manga! Cooro (crow), Husky (fish), Senri (bear), and Nana (bat).)

#browniefox speaks #plus anima #+anima #cooro #husky #nana #senri #au

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dandylovesturtles · 9 months

Text

late night posting but I had a thought that spiraled into mostly Disaster Twins banter and I wanted to write it just because of that

I have no plan I’m just going sorry if it just kinda ends

takes place immediately after the events of Evil League of Mutants

———

Donnie’s in his bunk, doing one last nightly check of all his socials, when the curtain to his room is opened and shut. He doesn’t have to look to know who it is - his other brothers have the decency to knock.

“What do you want, Leo?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Donnie hears the sound of his desk chair rolling over concrete and looks down to see Leo making himself comfortable, reclined back so he can see Donnie without craning his neck.

Great. Donnie returns to his phone and waits for Leo to speak.

“I just can’t stop thinking about what happened today.”

“A lot of things happened today, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Uh, about Lou Jitsu being our dad, duh! I mean, it’s crazy!”

“Oh, I know.” Donnie actually grins at that, looking up at his ceiling. “Of all the people it could have been! You know, I’ve sequenced all our DNA, and if I go through the data perhaps I can isolate his badassery in genetic form!” He wiggles in excitement. “Maybe I can even make my own Lou Jitsu clone…”

“Okay, cool it on the mad scientist junk for a second,” says Leo, rudely jerking him out of his tiny Lou Jitsu fantasies. “I’m just saying… he’s our dad.”

“Yes, as we’ve established.”

“I mean, all four of us.”

“Good job, Leo, you are two for two.”

“And that makes us brothers. Like… biologically.”

“Yes, very good. You have a fifth grade understanding of biology, gold star.” He looks away from his phone and down at Leo, and feels a sudden rush of panic. “Aaaand you aaare emotional about this… for some reason.”

“Am not,” argues Leo, even though he clearly is. Leo doesn’t cry much, but sometimes his eyes get all big and shiny like he wants to, and now is one of those times.

Donnie cringes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have… whatever conversation this is with Raph or Mikey?”

“No.” Leo scowls. “They’d be all… weird about it.”

“I’m going to be weird about it!”

“Dee, can you just… listen a sec?”

He knows if he tells Leo no after that, Leo will get up and leave… but he feels bad doing that. No matter what reasoning led him to choose Donnie to hear out these feelings, if Leo gets rejected he’ll never tell anyone and just sulk in his room instead.

So Donnie sighs. “Fiiine. But I’m not sharing any emotions tonight.”

Leo snorts, but after a second he starts talking again. “I just… know it shouldn’t matter, because we’re brothers no matter what. But… I don’t know. I always thought, since we’re different species… But now I know we all have the same dad! And it doesn’t matter, but… doesn’t that make you kinda… happy?”

Leo’s looking at him expectantly, and Donnie mulls it over. Does it make him happy? He’s never thought too much about it before, but maybe there is something nice about sharing that connection.

He already said he’s not talking about feelings, though, and anyway… “I already knew.”

Leo is out of the chair and in his face in a second flat. “What do you mean you already knew?”

“Not that Lou Jitsu is our dad, obviously!” He isn’t intimidated by Leo, but he pulls back anyway so he has more room to properly display his annoyance. “But I sequenced our DNA, remember? And it took some work, because of the highly complex processes involved and the fact that we don’t have DNA that is purely human or turtle-“

“Donnie-“

“-anyway, I isolated our human DNA and found enough similarities to determine there was a 92% chance our human donor was the same person. So I already knew that we are biologically brothers.”

Leo gapes at him. “And you didn’t think to tell us that!?”

“I tried to tell you! I laid all my findings out in a powerpoint, and you said, and I quote, “Donald, it’s been fifteen slides already, if you have any more I’m shoving you in a sewer pipe and leaving you for the rats.””

“Hey, don’t pin this on me! You’re the one who didn’t put the important information up front! Effective scientific communication is critical!”

“The point is that it’s all important, and thus impossible to pare down! So if you could just be patient once and a while, you’d actually learn something!”

“Well maybe I just thought you would tell us something this important straight out!”

Donnie is all geared up to keep fighting him on this, but just like how he can tell when Leo is emotional but trying to hide it, he can tell when Leo is hurt and trying to hide it. Arguing doesn’t feel good when it’s like this.

He backs down with a small shrug of surrender. “I just… didn’t think it was that important. I mean, it’s like you said… We’re brothers no matter who our human donor or donors are.”

The hurt slips off Leo’s face as easily as it came, and he smiles just a little. “Yeah?”

“Yes. And if I’m saying it then it’s obviously right.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but he’s still got that smile so Donnie knows all is forgiven.

Leo decides to extend an olive branch too, apparently, because the next thing he says is, “What would you even do with a Lou Jitsu clone, anyway?”

“I haven’t decided.” He looks at Leo, then sighs and scoots over. “Since you’re here, you can help me brainstorm.”

Leo’s smile turns into a full grin, and he pulls himself up into the bunk. It’s a tight squeeze, but they fit.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #disaster twins #rise leo #rise donnie #my fanfiction

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yuta-nation · 2 months

Text

Selfish (Ayato Kamisato)

summary: your brother is upset about your sister's new boyfriend. you show him that you aren't going anywhere.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest, big bro!ayato, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but reader is referred to as girl, sister, etc.), vaginal fingering, unprotected p -> v (pull out method), possessive! ayato, alcohol consumption ( reader is sober, ayato acts drunker than he is), chatty!ayato, teasing!ayato, he's kinda a bully, slight manhandling, voyeurism (ayato listened to reader get off w/o her knowledge) reader is hesitant, but everything is consensual.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: heed the content warnings, i have been clear and thorough. anyways i just think you're ayato's favorite sister.

Things between you and your brother had been tense for a while. Truthfully, it had been building for years, though it had only reached the boiling point in the past few months. The fuse was lit when your younger sister, Ayaka, began courting Aether. Your elder brother liked the man well enough as a friend, but no one was good enough for his precious little sisters. Despite being the youngest, Ayaka was as much of an adult as Ayato was, and he knew forbidding her from seeing the traveler would only blow up in his face. So, he gave the couple his reluctant blessing and put on a brave face around them. He didn’t even reveal his true feelings about the relationship to Thoma, fearing the younger man would share Ayato’s disapproval with Ayaka, Aether, or both. The only person he could confide in was you. And confide he did.

“There’s no way you’d leave your darling brother for another man, is there, Sister? You know better than to break my heart like that, don’t you?” Ayato hiccuped into his sake cup on the other side of the kotatsu. You doubted anyone, even Ayaka or Thoma, knew how whiny your brother could be after he got a little alcohol in him. Ayato was excellent at keeping up appearances, but he was willing to let down his walls around you. You were special. Though you had to admit, your older brother looked pathetic at the moment, clothes and hair disheveled, face flushed, eyes watery. Truthfully, he looked like a drowned rat, albeit a particularly cute one. He stared at you with those wet eyes, obviously expecting reassurance from you.

“I won’t leave your side until it’s time for me to marry; you’ll have me for another year or so,” you said before raising your teacup to your lips. Ayato’s lavender eyes met yours, hardening as he registered your words.

“If you think I’d allow both you and Ayaka to be married off, you’re sorely mistaken. And since she was the first to find a suitor, it seems you’re stuck with me,” he said with a sickly sweet smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“And what will happen to me when you finally marry? Do I become the nanny of your children? A spinster dependent on your charity?”

“You would remain my beloved younger sister and a pillar of the Kamisato clan. Besides, I will always love you more than any woman I end up marrying.”

“You are the most selfish man I have ever met. Ayaka didn’t need your permission to find a suitor. I just might follow in her footsteps,” you said with a roll of your eyes and another sip of your tea. You watched as Ayato lifted his head from the surface of the kotatsu and stood. He was surprisingly steady on his feet considering how much he had to drink, footsteps steady as he approached you. You felt the hair on the nape of your neck stand up as he settled on the floor behind you. You opened your mouth to question him, but before you could get the words out, he pulled you backward into his lap.

“Ayato! What are you–” You’re cut off by his hand covering your mouth.

“Selfish? Most definitely. And why wouldn’t I be? The archons blessed me with the most beautiful little sister, and you expect me to just give her away? Ayaka is different; I always intended to let her marry. But you’re special. You’re all mine; don’t think I’ll let you go so easily. Do you understand?” Ayato squeezed you tightly before removing his hand from your mouth, indicating he expected you to answer.

“It’s not right, brother. You must marry one day; what would your wife think?” you said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“I have no interest in what is right or wrong. I do not care what my future wife thinks of me; she will not be the woman I love,” he said, positioning you more comfortably in his lap. You could feel something warm and stiff poking against your back. You swallowed hard but made no move to pull away.

“And who is? The woman you love, I mean,” you asked, grateful to have your back to Ayato. You wouldn’t have been bold enough to ask if you had to meet his eyes.

“I think you know my answer, pretty girl. It’s you; it’s always been you, it always will be,” Ayato whispered as his head fell to the crook of your neck. He nuzzled his face into the expanse of your skin before exhaling in pleasure.

“You just haven’t found the right person yet. You will one day; this will pass.”

“And if I don’t want it to pass? What if you are the right person for me? If you were born for me? What then?”

“We still can’t be together, Ayato. T-think of Ayaka,” you stuttered out as his grip on your waist tightened and his lips began to graze your neck.”

“She doesn’t need to know. You and I have always been so good at keeping things secret from her. Besides, she has Aether. Don’t you and I deserve to have something? Deserve to have each other?” Ayato rested a hand on your abdomen, tracing random patterns with his finger. His lips began to kiss your neck in earnest, though they were surprisingly gentle. He gave the flesh a teasing nip, earning a gasp from you.

“Ayato! You can’t. We can’t,” you protested, though you made no attempt to remove yourself from his grasp.

“Stop pretending you don’t want this too, pretty girl. I know you better than you think,” he said, hand moving higher towards your chest, taking a breast in the palm of his hand.

“You’re drunk, Brother. That’s all this is,” you justified, laying your hand over his as if you planned to pry it off your kimono. But you couldn’t bring yourself to remove his hand, instead just resting yours atop his.

“That isn’t the excuse you think it is. I feel this way about you sober; the alcohol just makes me more honest. The truth is, you’re the only woman on my mind. I think of you all the time. I think of kissing you. Of holding you, just like this. Of making you my wife. Of being your husband. Your lover,” he squeezed your breast to emphasize the last word, and you fought the moan that bubbled up in your throat.

“But most of all, I think of making love to you. Of burying my face between your thighs until tears spill down your face. Of splitting you open on my cock, until the only word you know is my name, until the whole house knows that you belong to me,” he murmured in your ear as his other hand found its way under the skirt of your kimono. His slender fingers locate your dampening panties, grazing the crotch and causing you to clamp your legs together.

“Come on, sweet girl. I can feel how wet you are; you want this, too, don’t you? Stop pretending; just be honest for once. Let me show you how much I love you. Please,” he whispered the last word in your ear. You felt your resolve crumble into dust, and your legs fell open, granting him access.

“That’s my perfect girl,” he groaned, fingers petting the damp fabric, running along the outline of your lips. You stifled the whine that attempted to leave your throat, causing Ayato to make a sound of displeasure.

“Ah ah, pretty. I want to hear you.”

“What about Ayaka and Thoma? They’re still–”

“Do not say another man’s name when you’re with me like this. I should be the only man on your mind right now,” he admonished as his fingers worked their way under the fabric covering your cunt, ghosting over your clit. You bucked your hips at the contact, chasing after the feeling of his fingers. You heard him chuckle darkly from behind you before feeling his lips on your neck once more. His hand on your chest moved lower and began to undo the belt of your kimono. He removed his teasing hand from your underwear to assist in divesting you of your clothing. In no time, you were stripped bare before your older brother. While undressing you, he had shifted you to be face-to-face with him so that he had a better view. You could feel his lavender eyes raking over your body, drinking in every detail. After a moment of his scrutiny, you began to feel embarrassed, hands moving to cover yourself.

“No, don’t do that. Come here, beautiful girl,” Ayato said, reaching out to pull you into his lap again. This time, you were positioned chest-to-chest with your brother, nipples hardening in the cool spring air.

You watched with pupils blown wide as Ayato lowered his head to your breast, taking one of the perked buds into his mouth and sucking. You whimpered at the feeling of his warm mouth encircling your nipple. You could feel Ayato’s lips warp into a smile without pulling away from your breast. He removed one hand from your hips to trace your lower lips once more. You let out another choked sound as his skillful fingers finally made their way to your clit. They expertly circled the bud with the lightest pressure, enough to bring you pleasure but nowhere near the amount needed to bring you release. You whined at the sensation nonetheless, hoping the sound would encourage Ayato to give you more.

However, your brother had always possessed more patience than you. He continued his teasing strokes around your clit as his mouth shifted to your other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first. After several minutes of his ministrations, your impatience got the best of you, prompting you to buck your hips against his fingers as your hands tangled themselves in his hair. Ayato pulled his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop, meeting your desperate eyes.

“Eager, are we?” Ayato said with a chuckle.

“Please, no more teasing. Be nice, Ayato,” you begged, rolling your hips once more.

“So needy. I could be much crueler, you know. I could just leave you like this, you know? Desperate and empty.” “Ayato, please! You started this!” You whined, eyes pleading with the man before you.

“You’ve always had the cutest pout. I’ll take care of you, sweet girl. I always have, haven’t I?” He asked as two graceful fingers finally prodded at your entrance before slipping in. You nodded your head in agreement and pleasure as you finally felt him enter you.

“I’m being so nice to you, aren’t I? What do you say when someone gives you what you want, hmm?” “Thank you, thank you, thank youuu so much, Ayato!” you squealed as his fingers reached the spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in pleasure. His thumb began to rub circles on your clit, prompting more whines from you.

“So polite. I think you deserve a reward for being so obedient, don’t you?” He asked as his fingers and thumbs picked up speed. His fingers bumped that spongy spot inside you with every thrust, and his thumb pressed down on your clit as he circled it, making you see little white spots in your vision.

“Well, what would you like as your reward, pretty girl?” Ayato asked before his lips attached themselves to your throat, sucking gently at the delicate skin.

“Wanna feel you i-inside! Please!” You pleaded, rolling your hips against his hand. His fingers felt like heaven, but selfishness was a trait you and Ayato shared; you desired more.

“I am inside you, silly girl,” he said, lips smiling against your neck.

“No, I want you inside me. Want your cock, please, Ayato!” You begged, pulling on his hair to bring his mouth to yours. He was happy to indulge in you, nipping at your bottom lip to gain his tongue access to your mouth. As his tongue entangled with yours, his fingers worked your cunt harder, scissoring them inside your heat. His thumb on your clit pressed harder and circled faster.

“You can have my cock as soon as you cum on my fingers. Sound fair?” he mumbled against your lips. You nodded before diving back into the kiss, taking control this time. Your tongue explored Ayato’s mouth as his hand explored your pussy, bringing you closer to the edge. It was harder to fight back your moans and whimpers as he prodded your G-spot and pressed against your clit. You could feel the knot in your abdomen tightening, warning you of your impending orgasm.

“Are you close, pretty? Gonna cum on my fingers? Come on, cum so I can fuck you properly,” Ayato encouraged as he felt you clench around his fingers. You began to hump his hand in earnest, chasing your high with vigor. You stopped trying to stifle your moans, instead letting your brother swallow them with his mouth.

After several moments, you finally felt yourself come undone, felt the knot in your stomach snap, and your pussy gush around Ayato’s fingers.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Making such a mess. So proud of you for letting go; didn’t that feel nice? Didn’t your big brother take care of you?” He asked, not slowing or stopping the motion of his hand on your cunt until you tugged at his wrist.

“I think you’ve earned my cock at this point. You ready for it, beautiful?” Ayato asked as he shifted you from his lap to lie on the floor.

“Please, Ayato, want it so bad,” you confessed, spreading your legs to him in invitation. He chuckled at your display as his hands went to undo his belt. He was swift in removing his clothing, shucking it off as if it had offended him. Soon, the two of you were equally bare before one another. Your eyes raked over his leanly sculpted body, taking in every mole and birthmark that graced his body. You let out a gasp when your eyes finally landed below his waist.

It was far from your first time seeing a penis; you’d lost your virginity to a certain male housekeeper a few years ago, but Ayato had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. It was a pale pink that grew redder at the tip, curving towards his stomach. It wasn’t as lengthy as Thoma’s, but it was thicker and veinier by far. Just the thought of it stretching your walls had you squeezing your thighs together with want. Ayato let out a soft laugh at your reaction before lowering himself to join you on the floor.

“I can’t believe I’m finally doing this,” he whispered, mostly to himself, as he positioned his body over yours, settling between your hips.

“How often have you thought of this?” you asked in amusement as you wrapped your legs around his hips.

“Every day since you were 19. I thought it was my turn for the bath, but you were in there, touching yourself. I didn’t want anyone else walking in on you like that, so I sat outside the door until I heard you getting out. I heard every sound you made; I tried so badly not to get hard, but you sounded so needy, looked so pretty; I ended up cumming in my pants like a damn teenager. I’ve wanted you ever since. So don’t think I have any plans of letting you go after this,” He confessed as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“You’re such a pervert,” you said, pulling his waist closer to you with your legs.

“You’re the one who’s about to take their pervert brother’s cock. How are you any better?”

“Archons, Ayato, just fuck me!”

And with that, his cock finally found a home in your cunt. Just as you expected, the stretch of his girth was toe-curling, prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders. You couldn’t help the squeaks and sighs that escaped you as he sheathed his length inside you. Your brother was surprisingly vocal as well, letting out more profanities than you had ever heard him utter in your life. When he was finally balls deep, he rested his forehead against yours.

“This is going to ruin me, you know? I’ll never want anything else, anyone else,” he said, sweeping a stray strand of hair away from your face. “Good,” you said, leaning in to catch his lips with your own.

With that, he began to move, giving shallow, tentative thrusts of his hips. Your small grunts of pleasure spurred him on, encouraging him to deepen his movements.

“Fuck, baby, you were made for me. This pussy was made for me and no one else. This is my pussy; it’s mine,” he groaned, picking up the pace to fuck you in earnest.

“It’s yours, just for you! Please don’t stop!” you whined as he gave a particularly deep thrust.

“Never gonna stop, baby. Pussy’s too good, couldn’t stop if I wanted to,” he assured, bringing the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight to your clit. He began to rub tight circles on the bud, never slowing his hips. You could feel your high building once more, jerking your hips involuntarily against his.

“You feel too good, pretty girl. Not gonna last. Need you to come for me, can you to that? Can you make a mess for me, baby?” You nodded frantically, willing to do anything to please the man above you.

“Close! So close, just a little more, please!” You squealed, no longer cautious of your volume. Ayato lowered his head to take a nipple into his mouth again, increasing the pressure on your clit in the process. A nip to the sensitive skin of your tit and a pinch to your clit sent you falling over the edge of pleasure. You didn’t have time to warn him of your orgasm before you were gushing on his cock, coating his abs and pelvis in your slick.

“Good fucking girl! That’s it, make a fucking mess on my cock. You’re perfect, fucking, ah, perfect!” He praised, hips stuttering. He gave several more shallow thrusts before he pulled out of your warmth and fisted his cock, pumping harshly once, then twice, before he came, painting your tummy with his thick seed.

He rolled off of you and onto the floor before pulling you to his side. The two of you clung to each other as you tried to catch your breath. Ayato brought his hand to rest upon your head, gently petting your hair while you came back down to your body.

“I hope you know I was serious. That wasn’t a one-time thing,” he said as you rested your hand on his arm. You peeked over at him, taking in the flushed face and disheveled hair of the man who knew you best, loved you most in the whole of Teyvat. You allowed a smile to spread over your face as you spoke.

“I’m aware, Brother. I think we both need a bath.”

“Good idea,” he said, making no move to get up, instead pulling you closer to his side. You wouldn’t be leaving that spot anytime soon.

#🩵: writing #🩵: ayato #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #cw incest

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puffein · 10 months

Text

FALL PARTY | late spring [ii.]

summary: you persuaded wanda to go to the party with you but at what cost? pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader warnings: the usual angst lol word count: 1069 a/n: idk how to feel about this but please enjoy!

series masterlist playlist!

New Brunswick, New Jersey

November 2021

"We should go, Wanda. I bet it's gonna be fun!" your voice booms from the bathroom, Wanda looks up from the book she's reading, her feet tucked tightly under her thighs. She shrugs and then realizes you cannot see her across the room.

"I don't know. I don't like parties," she says quietly. You got out of the bathroom wearing something that screams party girl. Wanda's eyes linger on you, for a little too long and abruptly looks down on her book.

You bit your bottom lip lightly, thinking of different things to persuade her. Fall exams week just ended and you badly want to go to the party and drink the stress of studying all week away, but if Wanda won't go then the decision is settled. You wouldn't want to leave her behind even if it means ditching a scheduled plan with your roommate.

"Okay, we won't go then," you said, your arms reaching out to smooth strays of her long brown hair.

She sighs, "No, you go. I can stay with Darcy or something." She shrugs, untucking her feet and placing them solidly onto your black carpet. Her eyes muster a wavering stare, eyelids drooped as her glinting green eyes filled with doubt.

You roll your eyes at her, sitting beside her, "Party won't be fun without you."

Shoulders rigid, you tense as her eyes stare right at your face, analyzing your features, observing how she examines every person her eyes settled in. Sometimes, fright would swallow up your whole essence, afraid she would analyze something out of you, something you deeply hid under.

Fear would always strike up at your chest whenever she does this, the staring, the head tilting with eyes determined, afraid she might see your feelings for her. She didn't have to know the affection you have for her goes beyond the borderlines of platonic warmth.

Then she looks away, brows furrowed, "I'll go then." her voice quiet. You see the fiddling of her hands and the nibbling of her bottom lip.

"We don't have to— wait, really? I mean, I'm fine with just staying here with you, we could watch movies or some—"

"You persuaded me anyways with that rat eyes."

You gasp at her dramatically, her laugh resounding in your all too quiet dorm room. Your face flushed at the sudden laughter she had emitted, the melodic laugh stabbed right into your chest with its sharp edges, however, instead of feeling pain all you have felt is fondness and devotion for the laughing girl.

That's how you found yourself and Wanda huddled together in a crowded room, sound blasting all over the place, people swarmed together to dance and sway their bodies closely. You felt the burning touch of her fingertips, her hands tightly grasping at your waist, leaving a fiery coil at the pit of your stomach. You try not to think too much of her touch, you knew Wanda hates crowded rooms, which makes her feel too close to people.

You now kinda feel bad persuading her in something she deeply despises and watching her clutch at your side like a terrified puppy made you want to back out of the party and spend the night watching her favorite sitcoms.

Your thoughts snap in place as you felt her tugging you impossibly closer, you lean into her ears, "Wanna grab drinks?"

Her wide eyes peer at yours and nods meekly, you smile at her encouragingly, wrapping your fingers around her wrist delicately, you pull the two of you out of the crowded room into a corner with much more space and none of that sweaty college students around.

"Stay here, I'll get you an apple juice." you playfully utter.

Wanda rolls her eyes, her cheeks turning pink as she scrunches up her nose endearingly. Huffing, she says, "Very funny."

You wave your hands in the air while walking away, steps bouncing lightly towards the kitchen of whoever house this Stark dude stole. Proud surrounds your chest at having the ability to find a space solely for Wanda. Not only for Wanda but for you and her too.

"I thought I will be ditched. Surprises." curly fiery red hair comes into your view, and you glance at her with brows raised high.

"I never ditch you."

"You did. Three days ago claiming it was yours and Wanda's sitcom day. Oh, and that coffee plan we had a week ago which totally got bamboozled as you said your best friend feels weird so—"

"Jesus. I get it." you sigh defeated, shoulders slump but a mischievous glint surrounds your roommate's eyes.

"Just ask her out." she suddenly suggests, lower back positioned right at the kitchen counter, slender hands grasping a small drink with lots of ice.

You shake your head, "No way, Nat. Wanda doesn't —"

Your words die down as your eyes settled on your best friend, tucked in the corner of the room but this time she's not alone. A tall blonde man stands beside her, he keeps a respectful distance between them, head bobbing and his interest is piqued at whatever your best friend is babbling about.

"—like me." you continued. Your Face scrunched up in a weird, pain, embarrassment kind of way.

Wanda doesn't like talking to strangers, much less babbling her night away with a man she never met before.

So, watching her step out of her comfort zone for someone she had never met gave you a very weird erupting feeling of sorrow and bitterness. You could practically taste the dejection and wretchedness of the hurling realization that this man might be too special for him to get Wanda to break the walls she had put herself and gaze at him like he was the only being who matters in the entire space.

That was the night you very first felt a strong feeling of patheticness.

You will always be the girl admiring the person she deeply loves from afar, who will always be positioned at the sidelines, who will always be the best friend, and will never be more than that.

Other than that, realizing that you were the one who persuaded her to come to this party made you sick. To come into the very place where she met the man she will be marrying 3 years from now.

Safe to say, you are the cause of your very own heartbreak.

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—୧ taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @sokovianbaby

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff mcu #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff marvel

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moonlessdusk · 5 months

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Why the MKulia alliance was formed and how it’s so effective (analysis part 3)

Okay now I’m talking about the actual alliance. I’m basically just going to go episode by episode here, touching on points for how they managed to keep each other in the game and why they’ve managed to effectively fly under the radar despite being so threatening together.

So jumping back in to the formation in episode 1 of season 2, MK says:

“And I hope you have a plan in case Bowie only picked you so he and the hockey bros could make you first voted off the island.”

And Julia’s response? She hadn’t even thought of that. This just adds evidence to my argument in part 1 that Julia has a major problem with being short sighted. Meanwhile MK’s plans may be sloppy in execution (something I’ll get back to later) but she plans for the long term. Julia acknowledges this weakness in her strategy.

Now MK could’ve kept this to herself or not taken her comment anywhere but she says “Then I guess I’m helping already,” which is effectively her extending an olive branch to someone who is in a situation where no one else is willing to place their trust in her. And just from looking at who’s on her team, Julia can’t trust Bowie and the hockey bros to not double cross her again (she said so in her walk of shame), nor can she expect any reliability out of Scary Girl, Ripper, or Chase. Thus, her eagerness to form the alliance.

Why would MK be so eager to join? Well, this could be a weakness that was retconned in given her performance on the obstacle course last season, but this season really hammers in how MK is the smallest and least athletic of of the cast:

And we know from her confessionals that Julia’s capacity to be physically aggressive is something MK greatly appreciates:

The way that this alliance has functionally worked as of episode 8 is that the two of them play to their strengths from last season: MK comes up with the plans to cheat and and meta game the challenges while Julia executes things MK can’t physically do with ruthless efficiency while also handling the social game. MK gets a hold of the intern uniform by the end of episode 2 and the scheming goes on until the merge.

Julia’s been doing well the first two episodes but she’s been relying on her brute force method and trying to be a team player. Admittedly, not a great idea in episode 2 specifically considering if they lose anyway, Bowie would still get her out and it’s not a good idea to draw attention to herself. MK’s face here kinda says as much:

She kinda lucked out on having bad teammates of Scary Girl and Chase.

Episode 3 is when the intern plan is put in to use and MK plants the sap remover and bucket of sap just off the the trail to avoid the actual challenge. It also seems to have been her idea to sabotage the other team, knowing that the Rats still have the numbers to beat them. So they spend the rest of the messing with the other team after Bowie gives the okay.

Exactly who they target, what they use, and how they went about it seemed to have been squarely Julia’s idea, which MK praises Julia for. Ultimately the plan does work and Caleb becomes too exhausted to carry his team across the line in time.

MK only gets a chekhov's gun out of the intern briefing in episode 4. In a turn based knowledge challenge, Julia kinda takes a backseat but still has something to do. While realizing the answers must be locked in, sneaking off to the production trailer for the answer, then using hot sign was all MK’s idea, Julia still came up with an excuse on the spot to cover for MK and not make Chris or the other competitors ask more questions for why she’s gone for so long.

This is basically like if what MK did in capture the skull last season actually worked out for her. Great idea to sneak off on meta the game but only possible if she had an ally to vouch for her. Emma did know what she did last season but wasn’t really an ally for MK because she was too wrapped up in her plot with Chase.

Episode 5 makes use of the chekhov's gun wireless hairdryer and MK finding a map of the challenge’s maze. On top of this, she was already thinking one step ahead and brought ice skates to distract the hockey bros.

We get to see Julia working her social game this episode by blackmailing Bowie. Revealing to Raj and Wayne how he lied to them and cheated in the previous challenge effectively sets up a situation where Julia has more room to work with for voting. What she’s probably trying to do is split the trio’s vote, giving her and MK voting power in the likely event they can convince Ripper to vote with them.

Julia and MK both having the idea to hide the other team’s coin is a solid idea but what follows is… shenanigans? Rather than continuing with the argument between Raj and Bowie, they throw a snowball at Julia? Like, it’s on brand for Julia to drop what she’s doing and retaliate, which I assume is why the hairdryer was given to her when MK was just holding it. In character but still kinda odd, logically.

Julia also unnecessarily puts a target on her back by revealing she’s the reason Nichelle left the game. MK was also sloppy with how she put back Chris’ hairdryer. I know narratively the reason this is done is so they can be kept apart the next episode but I feel like Julia wouldn’t have done this if MK was there to stop her and remind her to think ahead instead of having a moment of gratification.

In episode 6, the teams merge and MK and Julia are still in an advantageous position and Bowie acknowledges it. This is the episode Chris ours MK as a cheater to everyone else and MK is basically out of commission the whole episode.

Neither of them win immunity but more importantly, Bowie doesn’t either. Julia says she told the former Rats that the cheating was Bowie’s idea, and between insulting Axel and Damien, plus a vote from Ripper, and Priya likely still being mad at Bowie over last season (and Caleb likely voting with her), this was a very clever and opportunistic way to swing the votes away from her alliance partner.

Episode 7 creates a more dire situation for the alliance because it splits them up, whereas Chris kept literally every other alliance together. Julia is teamed with the hockey bros, which gives her a lose-lose situation where in she’s the most likely to be voted off if she doesn’t win immunity but if she does, her biggest adversaries also stick around. This is what her and MK’s confessional is essentially laying out.

Further complicating things is that team 1 are four friends that would definitely vote with the hockey bros and them winning immunity would put them in a tough spot where if it’s not one of the two, it’ll be one of their pseudo alliance partners Ripper or Axel, and they just lose more voting power.

There isn’t a discussion that we see about it but the initial plan seemed to be to create a situation where team 1 can’t win. Thus we see the two of them target the most threatening members on team 1: Caleb and Priya.

Later in the challenge, Julia’s impulsiveness basically forces herself in a situation where she can’t afford to lose after she sabotaged team 1. Realistically at that point, cutting their losses and convincing team 1 to eliminate Axel was really the only thing the two of them could do because the hockey bros would’ve voted for MK and team 1 would’ve voted together. It’s more beneficial for Mkulia to keep Ripper’s semi-loyalty to them and he is competent in challenges when he’s not distracted by Axel. Even if Julia was already avoiding MK at this point because guilt from her sabotage, that’s still at least 5 votes against Axel vs 2 for MK and the remaining 3 from her, Ripper, and Axel don’t matter. Of course, Ripper is eliminated too so Mkulia are on their own again but I can see what they were going for.

Episode 8 is interesting because it sets an implication for how the Mkulia alliance is more covert than we see most post-merge alliances, with Caleb and Priya being a good contrast to what I mean. (And I’m skipping over “the Owen thing”, I have a different analysis on that.)

This is the first time we have a challenge where there’s nothing to stop them from helping each other and yet Julia only stops for a moment to shout “Hurry it up, girl,” at MK with MK shouting back that she’s trying while she struggles to even drag the coin. That’s the only interaction they have the whole challenge. Given their reaffirmation earlier that they’re a good team, this looks kind of cold for Julia, but I think that appearance is intentional.

Consider how Caleb and Priya have openly been helping each other and everyone knows that they’ve been trying to find the immunity idol together. I’ve glossed over it until now but Priya has also been in danger of being eliminated since the merge and between constant bad ideas, being the reigning champion, and working with the strongest person on the island, she has a target on her back, possibly bigger than Julia’s at this point considering she hasn’t won immunity or even runner up yet.

I think that the two of them are trying to hide their alliance to not get targeted. Like sure, they interact with each other between challenges but alliances usually explicitly help each other during challenges. Them just looking friendly to each other doesnt raise any more suspicion that it would claiming Damien is working with Priya, which we know he isn’t because he hasn’t told her about the idol. I think that gives Mkulia room for doubt with only the hockey bros actually knowing what they’re doing.

This also explains the lack of urgency Julia has with winning immunity. She has one confessional where she contemplates getting the secret out of Zee or going for immunity, initially thinking she’s get both but she ultimately zeros in on Zee, as evident by her score staying the same all game.

At first I just thought this was her being impulsive but it’s actually a case of her playing the social game because even if spilling the secret doesn’t get Zee out, the Priya and Caleb alliance still falls and directs attention away from her and MK.

Meanwhile MK gets to fly under the radar this episode. She’s second to last to get to the pinball and even though she immediately figures out the advantage, her small size and lack of fitness once again leads her to getting walled. So she’s not even considered a big threat and doesn’t need immunity.

So with Zee out of the game and a target on Caleb’s back, my prediction is that Caleb gets immunity next episode just to drag out the drama, then the vote bounces to Damien as the next most threatening on account of winning solo immunity once and doing solid the other two times. He’d then play his idol, which would bounce the votes that do count to Raj. He’s the more competent of the hockey bros and Mkulia’s priority should be breaking them up with Priya and Caleb imploding on its own.

As long as Mkulia is able to break the pairs in these next two episodes, they’ve basically paved their way to the finale. If they pull it off successfully, their alliance truly will be the most efficient and successful one in the series.

#can you Tell I’ve scrambled to finish this before monday #mkulia #td mk #td julia #total drama 2023 #total drama reboot #total drama julia #total drama mk #total drama spoilers

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