#most struggled actors
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tis the season !
#the charcuterie board was devoured and ppl rly loved the cookies and the dates r usually popular#and the baked brie too!!!#and then ppl brought their own assortment of treats and drinks as well#i rly enjoyed my blackberry orange drink personally#my gfâs friend does really beautiful pottery and all the food she brought was in her gorgeous homemade pieces#was so fun i love feeding ppl and making things look pretty and festive#my gf did the insane lettering on the drink menu#and decorated so cutely#and then we all went to the halloween event at the amusement park afterwards and it was fun and cold and misty#and i mostly sat outside of haunted houses while they walked thru them haha#i struggle rly rly bad to recover from being startled and sometimes it just. turns into a panic attack even if im not like Scared?? idk#itâs stupid my body just canât distinguish real danger from fun danger very well#but they had these ââno booââ necklaces i could wear so actors would then just interact w me nicely and creepily instead of jumping at me#which was still fun :-)#bummer tho i hate being mentally illlllllll#and rly embarassing bc the necklaces lit up rly bright so it was like i was wearing an im-a-weenie beacon#lolll#also shoutout to my mutual who recognized me while i was waiting for my friends and stopped to say hi LMAO that was crazy#wonât name names so i donât dox u#but iâve never been recognized from tumblr before was a very i like your shoelaces momentđđđ#top 10 most embarassing things to happen to me ever but thanks for saying hi !!!#personal
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Actors AU!
Garments, most of them are for promotional material, but sometimes the actors take them out to have a bit of fun. Well, a bit more than sometimes.
Props have somehow not been broken when it comes to the garments.
I like to imagine collaborations like that one with Discovery are made to promote the series and said collaboration. Which then brings me to the idea that they end up sending 37 and Regulus to many parts of the world a lot because they're some of the most famous members
I have to say, I believe Regulus loves every single Garment of hers. I bet she wears them from time to time outside of filming because she likes how it looks on her.
Not sure if Sonetto is very fond of her second garment but her third garment is so comfortable she wears it often.
I especially think the youngest one enjoy said clothes because they're more casual, like Eagle's and La Source's. They're simple but also really nice.
This wouldn't be a proper garment discussion without mentioning Isolde's. I believe it is way too fancy for her to wear around, but she's fascinated by the concept of it. An opera singer in a jazz outfit? Amazing, 10/10
Separating the event garments from those that are collaborations makes it funnier to imagine, because some are made to promote their movies and sometimes you have Regulus live from Los Angeles dressed as a rocker with 37 following behind.
#reverse 1999#THE BUNNY#r1999 actors au#I like the idea of those garments being made to promote but ultimately being so cool sometimes they end up wearing it separately#which comes to the idea of Regulus having a lot of outfits#1.5 garments wete probably the most casual in the sense that wel#it's just sports yk?#but then you have Spathodea struggle to walk kn her 2.0 garment#no I really feel bad for Spathodea she's probably struggling
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The Forgotten (Don't Look in the Basement, 1973)
"Perhaps I shouldn't have come here at all."
"I don't think there's any point in our talking about your leaving, Miss Beale. You forget, you were very anxious to take this job. I made special provisions for you to be here."
"I realise that, but I don't know what to do!"
"I'm the doctor and you're the nurse, and what I do decides what you will do!"
#the forgotten#don't look in the basement#blood tw#horror film#american cinema#video nasty#s.f. brownrigg#tim pope#rosie holotik#bill mcghee#annabelle weenick#gene ross#betty chandler#harryette warren#jessie lee fulton#robert dracup#michael harvey#jessie kirby#hugh feagin#camilla carr#rhea macadams#properly dingy DIY horror filmmaking. when you consider this was just the year before Texas Chain Saw Massacreâ the gulf in ability and#execution between two contemporary indie horror shockers that both ended up on the video nasty list is.. staggering really#pretty clearly shot on short endsâ this suffers badly from just what a budget production it is; real shoddy cheapo hours hereâ and it#bleeds through in every scene and in every aspect of this film. an obvious plot and a plodding script do nothing to help and honestly this#is low grade stuff but if it has one saving grace it's the spirited performances of an almost entirely unknown cast. these actors are#giving it everything and honestly they deserved a better project to be a part of: Holotik is a little shaky at first but comes into her own#during the frantic madness of the final actâ McGhee manages to make something genuinely likeable and sympathetic of a potentially very#tactless role as a victim of lobotomy; most of all it's Gene Ross as the disturbed Judgeâ whose desperate struggle with his own repressed#humanity and discomfort with human interaction is actually beautifully played in a series of affecting moments
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Restorative or Transformative?: Homoerotic Subtext, The Closet, and Ciphers in Pop Culture. The nature of commercial art is that itâs sometimes bad and inconsistent. Notably itâs also misogynistic. One way in which audiences try to reconcile massive plot holes or gaps in character motivation is by reading secrets or hidden information into a plot.
Commonly, male characters are interpreted as closeted gay or bisexual to reconcile the absence of women from commercial narratives with the generally stunted and poorly-written male characters that form the focus on said texts. This reading has become especially common among a non-heterosexual milieu. Rather than transforming the original text into some radically different new form, this closeted interpretation seeks to make the original text stand on its own as a story rather than a Swiss cheese of dumb writing decisions.
This interpretation only works for a specific type of pop, usually genre fiction. Any story in which tortured male leads eschew women in favour of male-male bonds (because female characters are constantly killed off, written sparsely, or written out, because the production team keeps casting their male buddies, because actors demand to keep having scenes with their bros, whatever) can become a sounder structure if you put one of them in a closet.
The gay interpretation is the natural consequence of shoddy misogynistic writing from ventures like Supernatural, Naruto, all the biggest hits. Itâs also the natural consequence of more benignly misogynistic writing like The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes or The Lord of the Rings, where women arenât necessarily rejected but are simply absent from the worlds of the protagonists. When the emotional crux of the story falls on male-male interactions, this reads as romantic because society at large priorities (definitively heterosexual) romance as the pinnacle of human connection. Two forces are in conflict, the primacy of heterosexuality (read as: romance) and the primacy of men.
Anyway. All that is to say that the typical gay or bisexual reading of male characters in pop fiction comes from a very real place. But, in some places, thatâs the default interpretation. Angst, insecurity, secrets, double lives, fatigue, disappointment, restrained passion, stunted personal growth, anyone living in the closet can tell you that it impacts and defines your whole life to know that you live in a way fundamentally incompatible with The Proper Way that life is structured around down to tax law and superstore prices (which assume a heterosexual nuclear family unit). Characters in fiction also tend to have personal problems because that makes them interesting and tasty.
If youâve grown up on stories with the specific type of misogyny that can be papered over with a closeted interpretation of the male leads, carrying this interpretation over to any male character will make sense more often than not. Even a bit of angst or insecurity? Well of course that makes sense if a character is closeted.
Except thatâs hurt a normal part of fiction, and sometimes the closeted interpretation takes away from the point of a character. If a male character is on another axis of marginalization, the closeted interpretation imposed by the slash reading community downplays or trivializes the effects of that marginalization in the plot by overwriting it with another type of marginalization. Alternately, sometimes a characterâs heterosexuality is a part of the story. There are some sorts of critiques or investigations of misogyny or masculinity that donât work if the character has an âopt outâ of the cisheteropatriarchal perspective. Not that gay/bisexual men arenât except from misogyny, but misogyny masculinity and heterosexuality are so tightly linked that it sort of defeats the point if you interpret that character outside of heterosexuality.
All that is to sayâthe closet interpretation is a quick and easy spice to apply to the weaker parts of action-adventure genre fiction to make it taste better. It draws from a large enough sample of art that itâs pretty widely applicable. Because of that, itâs part of some peopleâs [my] default interpretation package just because the semi-dull macho show at least gets less dull if you imagine thereâs a reason for there to be no girls besides simple hatred. That then forms its own problem where the interpretation that works with your average genre work gets then blanket-applied to all genre works and obscures the places where the closet interpretation doesnât fix the work, and actually makes it less interesting.
#kelsey rambles#Iâm as guilty of it as anyone.#just thinking about Johnny Storm and like. bisexual ass character. deeply bi guy. but.#what IF heâs just heterosexual. what then. wouldnât that almost beâŠmore interesting#if heâs Like That and not closeted? what twisty gnarled psychological torments would a good comic have to explain him#and on the other hand. that one post I saw about how miles/hobie totally misses the point that their relationship is about solidarity#spider-punk and spider-byteâs alliance with miles are the same thing and to read it as romantic erases the important part#and on a third hand. when speaking of milesâ story. the stupid fucked Bendis running joke/subtext with Ganke#to have Miles be gay would possibly take away from the messy and interesting part of his character that is being a person with nothing#to hide. a totally honest genuine straightforward kid who is forced to start a double life by an outside actor#but at the same time itâs dumb and a cop-out to throw in that much bait and that much of a genuinely charged tense friendship#and then go âlol jk. nothing to see hereâ#the other thing is the semi joke in atsv about âcoming outâ as spider-man#the most important thing about Miles having to hide is his relatively precarious position as a black kid. heâs not afforded the leniency#that Peter Parker would expect if he got unmasked. Miles is more cautious because he is in more danger because heâs Black#so to paint that struggle with the gay brush is to disregard the characterâs raison dâĂȘtre. while also#using that sort of language and structure deliberately puts a gay lens over that character and ignoring that or kicking it to the side#feels a bit cheap. to borrow the look and not the substance#way too many tags and itâs past my bedtime. thesis statement is:#miles morales is a character whose history is fraught with plenty of real gay subtext and whose character struggles are entirely divorced#from any sense of gender performance. heâs subtextually bi but thatâs got so little to do with his story that it feels almost wrong to read#that into him because there is so much other interesting stuff going on with him
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âŠand welcome to another episode of Charlie disregarding every single boundary Babe tries to put up whilst single-handedly becoming the most annoying character I have ever had the displeasure of watching
#pit babe liveblog#itâs unbearable#truly#Iâm waiting for this show to do more#get good#I donât think even pavel can save this show for me#itâs such a cop out#omegaverse? WHERE#just say you want a show with super powers and move on#didnât even commit to the most basic bit#your main couple have zero fucking chemistry#one of your main actors is painful to watch#for my own sanity I need to stop watching#but some part of me is still waiting for it to turn itself around#but weâre 6 episodes in#I think Iâm kidding myself here#not gonna tag this because I donât wanna fill it with negativity#but Iâm struggling lads
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I want an Actors on Actors I actually care about
#what if toni collete and glenn close had a chat about being THE most talented motherfuckers playing the most insane women#and still being pretty fucking underrated lets talk about that#what if yalitzia aparicio and rita moreno talked about being a latina oscar nominee and then struggling to get another lead role#oscar isaac and pedro pascal talk about being latino actors and only getting attention when theyre being fetishized by white women#idk just a thought
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Well the french in the last episode of iwtv was certainly something
#I think I needed the subtitles almost as much as someone who does not speak french. Had to re listen to some of the lines like 2 or 3 times#WHILE reading the subs to know wtf they were saying. Or am I stupid ? I'll ask friends what they think#(Not all the lines but some were hard to get for me)#Like i understand the main actors are not fluent. Not sure they even speak french cause sometimes it sounds like they dont know what the#fuck they're saying themselves. But would it kill them to hire at least french actors for background characters who have 2 lines. So that#at least the environement is believable. Like it was okay in the 1st season cause there werent big sentences in french but here..nope#also when Sam Reid speaks english with the french accent it's okay. It works honestly. I mean I think. And at least it's funny.#But in s2 having them act those big sentences wasn't a good idea. Really you can see they dont know where to put what little tonic accent w#have in french. And so it sounds fake. I mean ''ça sonne faux'' but i dont know how to translate that exactly in english. But yeah makes th#lines sound unsincere and meaningless. So the acting is downgraded. And I can see they're putting a lot of effort into it but it does#Make them sound like they're struggling hard. And we go back to the line not feeling right. Like they dont know what they're saying you kno#*I meant intonation rather that tonic accent (maybe ?) french doesnt have a lot of tonic accent(s). but both probably apply to this case)#Im only this bitchy about it cause it's a rather big production. Im pretty sure they have the resources to do better.#I know it most likely the same for any other language that was represented in the show. Or other shows for that matter. It's just that#I dont have expertise on other languages. Tho i dont remember what show i was watching where the actors spoke spanish and even i could tell#they were neither spanish nor from any latin america country. For the record i am not very good at spanish.#iwtv
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the thing about Hawaiâi politics is that. You absolutely need to criticize the local government. But you also need to stand the economic and political politics of living in a place where the local government doesnât have an iota of the power of the mega corporations like Hilton and Sheraton that run mega resorts here, nor the billionaires like mark Zuckerberg, Larry Ellison, or Jeff bezos that run second homes here or have quasi-feudal estates or exert far far more power than the relatively progressive county and state governments
like. You have to clock what it is that a man worth over 100 billion dollars purchased 98% of an island. What thatâs like. What power does a city councilman who represents that island in a council have over a man worth over 100 billion who both owns the land people live on AND the hotels they work at
#A) HI runs and is far more like a separate nation than another U.S. state even if under mainland colonial control#B) us imperialism is and always has run through the interests of mega corporations that may not be *officla* government actors#So so so many issues boil into the market forces in a Neo imperial world in a place with a long history of colonialism#schools struggle to keep teachers and local businesses struggle to keep employees because the wages donât match the insane cost of living#Local agriculture and food industries struggle because the cost of supplies and cost of living for farmers#Makes their produce more expensive than most people can afford so we have to buy from Walmart#Young people and families keep leaving and thereâs increasingly severe labour shortages for basically ever job in terms of#Everything from minimum wage local jobs to local doctors teachers and lawyers#So every aspect of local society struggles to keep going#And all those deficits make hi a harder and harder place to live#Thereâs market forces that are just. Beyond us all#also the most powerful gov actor by far is the national military and you think city council has more control than the pacific fleet? PFFFF
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Why do you ever thought, among the other ârelationshipâ, that Hamille could be real?
Thank you! I wasnât in the fandom during that time
Iâm not sure it was real, to be fair. I was also taking a break from fandom during the time Harry was dating Camille, so I didnât really experience much of it firsthand. But I think itâs interesting that Camille was written into the official narrative of Harryâs life (by Harry!) in a way his previous relationships were not. Her voice is included on âCherryâ and he referred to her as his girlfriend (after the fact). And in that way, it did stand out to me and come across as⊠emotionally authentic.
However, I donât think we as fans could ever know what relationships are ârealâ versus ânot real.â People make a lot of arbitrary distinctions like if a relationship of Harryâs is âtoo publicâ itâs bound to be fake (hence why his relationship with Camille was more believable to some people). And the list goes on. But we really have no way of knowing any of that. I think, in most cases, it would be impossible to distinguish between a real relationship and a fake one. Would a real relationship thatâs being leveraged for PR look markedly different from a fake one, for example? Would a romantic relationship look worlds away from a bearding relationship where the parties are good friends and enjoy spending time together? And thereâs a whole lot of grey area in between. So Iâm probably not the best person to ask about the girlfriends because, while I have a position, I also think anything is possible and we as fans have no way of knowing.
#I do think a lot Harryâs relationships lack that⊠emotional authenticity#which is why I kind of struggle to believe them#and by that I donât mean that thereâs any ill will between him and the women#but he seems kind of like a passenger along for the ride#in most cases#like itâs all something happening to him and around him#and the Rolling Stone article where Olivia was interviewed and referred to as Harryâs girlfriend#but never mentioned by Harry himself#is kind of what I mean#Iâm not expressing myself well#because Harry definitely has agency and I donât think heâs a passive actor in his life or career#at all#but there is something thats hard to reconcile about a lot of his public relationships I think#and Iâm choosing to call it emotional authenticity#for lack of a better word
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I need to make a fucking bingo card for Dutch films and TV shows (would probably just make the viewing experience worse but. Honestly I'm already ticking off the bingo boxes in my head even without a real card)
#the most unnatural sounding lines and dialect#actors who seem to believe acting can be done just on instinct and vibes (PLEASE block out your intentions im BEGGING)#the same 5 faces everywhere#acting that is like. SLIGHTLY lacklustre. you're almost there. almost#SUCH ambition!! the scale! the budget!! boy is the result fucking Mid#the show im watching now has a character that's half dutch half american#but he grew up in the states and seems to prefer speaking english#yes native english speakers will STRUGGLE to learn dutch for the role im sure so i get the choice to pick a dutch actor#especially considering almost every dutch kid speaks fluent english these days#but. he doesn't have a real american accent. he sounds native dutch#but what's more annoying is the choices for which lines he and his mum speak English or Dutch#writers clearly never interacted with bilingual speakers like. what. why#the premise of the show seemed intriguing but as per usual i just can't get into it bc it's just so typical#we do have good things!! i remember charm and colour and character in films from my childhood#but the grown-up stuff is trying so hard to be like American tv shows and. it's just. not#anne speaks#sorry to be salty about this i just think it's a damn shame#this is exactly why i went to study acting in the UK#bc i looked at Dutch productions and went naaaah
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A lot of fiction these days reads as ifâas I saw Peter Raleigh put it the other day, and as Iâve discussed it beforeâthe author is trying to describe a video playing in their mind. Often there is little or no interiority. Scenes play out in âreal timeâ without summary. First-person POV stories describe things the character canât see, but a distant camera could. Thereâs an overemphasis on charactersâ outfits and facial expressions, including my personal pet peeve: the âreaction shot round-upâ in which we get a description of every characterâs reaction to something as if a camera was cutting between sitcom actors.
When I talk with other creative writing professors, we all seem to agree that interiority is disappearing. Even in first-person POV stories, younger writers often skip describing their characterâs hopes, dreams, fears, thoughts, memories, or reactions. This trend is hardly limited to young writers though. I was speaking to an editor yesterday who agreed interiority has largely vanished from commercial fiction, and I think you increasingly notice its absence even in works shelved as âliterary fiction.â When interiority does appear on the page, it is often brief and redundant with the dialogue and action. All of this is a great shame. Interiority is perhaps the prime example of an advantage prose as a medium holds over other artforms.
fascinated by this article, "Turning Off the TV in Your Mind," about the influences of visual narratives on writing prose narratives. i def notice the two things i excerpted above in fanfic, which i guess makes even more sense as most of the fic i read is for tv and film. i will also be thinking about its discussion of time in prose - i think that's something i often struggle with and i will try to be more conscious of the differences between screen and page next time i'm writing.
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Juliet Harmer guests as headmistress Jill Manson (or is she an imposter...?) in The Avengers: The Town of No Return (4.1, ABC, 1965)
#fave spotting#juliet harmer#the avengers#adam adamant lives!#georgina jones#the town of no return#1965#abc#classic tv#pictured here with alan macnaughtan#which was unavoidable as they're together in all her scenes and she doesn't get a solo closeup#(i like macnaughtan as an actor too! but a fave spotting is best when i can get the fave pictured alone..)#not the most rewarding of roles tbh; Jill is probably the least developed of the imposters in terms of character and macnaughtan gets most#of the dialogue in their scenes together. she does however get the honour of being the first person Mrs Peel properly fights onscreen#and puts up a relatively good struggle!#oh yeah. spoilers for a nearly 60 yr old tv ep ig but yeah she is an imposter#actually watching this ep again after some yearsâ it is a little weakly plotted#most of the issues the villains face could easily have been avoided; why didn't they simply tell Patrick Newell's visiting relative#that his brother had gone away for a week or two? why don't they pause their loud military manoeuvres while the strangers are in town?#idk I'm picking i guess. was also struck on this rewatch by just how dramatic the change in tone and design and production is between#s3 and 4. i mean i know it's obvious but i watched the series in a weird order as a kid and i guess i never reallt picked up on just how#seismic that shift is; not just the jump to film from videoâ but the pure fantasy of scenes like Steed producing a boiling kettle from#his bag on the train journeyâ or the entirely blasĂ© way the duo confront the concept of a total invasion of britain
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its really interesting to listen to covers of aimers song bc imo no one really captures the emotion she puts into her singing
#her singing is more hm#breathy? its strong but not powerful#i think?#and a lot of cover artists have strong powerful voices but at least the ones i listen to struggle to put that softer breathiness into their#interpretations#like you know?#admittedly i havent heard as many japanese covers usually i listen to english ones mostly for the transliteration interpretation#it could be a product of language#english doesnt really lend itself to softer tones#like you can hut youd have to really eat the hard T and D and other similar sounds to get that same softness#like enunciate less?#<- i am speaking out of my ass btw#like again im not saying you cant be soft in english like obviously you can people sing like that all the time#its just ive personally noticed that a lot of english singers like. enunciate so much? which like yeah you need to be clear in your singing#so people can actually hear and understand what youre saying but like. have you ever listened to musicals? the way the actors like land so#heavily on the T's and D's is wild like it starts making your music start feeling sanitized and like#as formal and proper english as can be#it doesnt lend itself to conveying emotions bc idk abt you but /i/ dont enunciate so hard#like im jot saying mumble but like. give some freedom to your words? let them flow together and stuff#like not to criticize random people on youtubes singing LMAO like i do like the covers dont get me wrong#but again i dont think ive ever seen someone capture the style or emotion that aimer does and it got me thinking#sometimes i listen to people sing and it gives me the same feeling i got when i lhear commercials on tv in spanish#like that is the most lifeless sanitized basic ass spanish ive ever heard like they are trying so hard to be neutral and it just ends up sou#sounding unnatural bc no one fucking talks like that like come one#idk what im talking abt now ANYWAYS#listen to aimer <3#michi tag
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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didnât trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.Â
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brotherâs new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h.Â
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadoriâs from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.Â
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.Â
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couplesâ cruise theyâd won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - whoâs divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.Â
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man youâve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isnât on your side, and you donât get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?Â
You double check the address youâve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that wonât make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesnât do much to hide that godly physique.Â
âNot that mâcomplaining, but whoâre you and whyâre ya in my house?â you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.Â
âChoso,â he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.Â
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where youâd heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, youâd know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.Â
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. âNot surprised you havenât seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.â he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you canât place. âMâbabysitting your brother for tonight.â
You almost donât hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?Â
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, youâd only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didnât know what exactly youâd anticipated. You just didnât expect him to be soâŠhot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.Â
âDamn,â you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. âEverything alright there?â he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. âMhm, perfect.â Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, âWell, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jusâ know Iâm always down to-âÂ
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - thatâs when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots youâve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.Â
And then itâs all black.Â
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though youâve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.Â
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers ofâŠyour bedâŠthat youâve been tucked into?Â
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.Â
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.Â
And just as youâre entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he mustâve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.Â
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
âGâmorning,â he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. âFeeling any better?â
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. âYeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.â
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. âIt was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, câmon, your brother and I are making pancakes.âÂ
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.Â
âIâm sorry,â you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. âI didnât mean to... yâknow, act like a Victorian man seeing a womanâs ankles for the first time-âÂ
âItâs al-â
 âI swear Iâve seen ankles-â
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. âSâalright, sweetheart. I didnât mind.âÂ
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didnât trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.Â
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, âBesides, it was kinda cute.â
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadnât uttered words that sent your mind reeling.Â
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Chosoâs warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didnât realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.Â
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever heâs scheduled to babysit.
Youâve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brotherâs hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.Â
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.Â
At this point, Chosoâs at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brotherâŠand sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
âSemanticsâ are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as youâve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think thereâs a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
âŠ
Nahhh.Â
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.Â
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Chosoâs grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.Â
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
âShoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, yâknow.â you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. âMaybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,âÂ
You scoff, âMaybe you should stop being a distraction then.â
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, âSânot my fault youâre so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.â
âOh, itâs on now.â
âWell, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,â Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows youâre hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yujiâs dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.Â
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring âBeg for mercy and Iâll let you off easy, Choso.â
âKinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.â
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, âThen, better run for your life.â
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-Â
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesnât even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as heâs drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious heâs mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogetherâŠ
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.Â
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that heâs not just screwed, heâs absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit.Â
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso canât help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least heâll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.Â
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasnât as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He canât help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.Â
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. âShit.â he breathes, âJ-jusâ like that, sweetheart.âÂ
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?Â
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lilâ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.Â
Or maybeâŠ
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.Â
Maybe youâd be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, youâd probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, âNow now, baby. If you donât act like a good boy then you wonât get to cum~â
âSh-shit, hah-â Choso thinks heâs going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.Â
All for him.Â
Itâs too much.Â
âAh- Ngh, fuck.â he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. âMore. Need m-more, sweetheart.âÂ
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Chosoâs thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.Â
Chosoâs heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows heâd be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.Â
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows youâd do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.Â
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you wonât call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows heâs fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. Heâd kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. Heâd fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.Â
âCum fâme, baby.â youâd mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. âMm, fill me up with your cum, wanâ taste you, baby-â
âFuck,â he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. âFuck...fuck fuck fuck. Mâgonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.â
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isnât making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.Â
You.Â
And then heâs cumming.Â
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and heâs spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what heâd been doing on this suspiciously long âbathroom breakâ.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.Â
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldnât have to-
âŠ
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.Â
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.Â
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
âŠ
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.Â
Either way, what youâd expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didnât mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
Youâre sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldnât decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldnât help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if thereâs anything youâve learned about Choso - itâs that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew heâd be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew heâd have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.Â
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.Â
Itâs only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
âThe big gunsâ being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.Â
It wasnât too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didnât think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of âNetflix no chill. Haha jkâŠunless?â But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yujiâs place, you couldnât help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?Â
Itâs a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you werenât lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didnât come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasnât expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture.Â
âGod, this is so painfully fake. Donât you think so?â your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. âOh, yeah.â voice rough with a hint of nervousness. âIâve seen better performances in middle school plays.â
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. âI mean, who even writes this stuff?â you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. âItâs like theyâve never actually had sex before.â
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.Â
âYeah, exactly,â he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.Â
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hairâs breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.Â
âChoso, just a thought.â you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. âWanna recreate the scene better?â
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. âDo you know what youâre saying?â he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. âAbsolutely.â
It was like something snapped.
Because then heâs kissing you. And youâre kissing him. Because goddammit you havenât spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didnât have enough time. And he probably didnât. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one heâs shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
âKiss me, you fool.â
And, well, Choso didnât have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.Â
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. âChoso- bed.â you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. âNow.â
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, âHonestly, sweetheart. I donât even hah- know if weâll make it there.â Mumbling against your lips, âWould you kill me if I take you right here right now?â
âIâll kill you if you donât fucking do something.â you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesnât pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldnât even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Chosoâs snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.Â
âAlways wanted to do this.â you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.Â
âOh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- fâmy piercings, sweetheart.â Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.Â
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Chosoâs face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Chosoâs eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers âGuess you were expecting this, huh?â he murmurs, voice thick with desire.Â
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. âIâve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, yâknow,â you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.Â
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. âOh yeah?â he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. âNow, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?âÂ
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. âWha- that doesnât matter. I was drunk and-â
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
âWhat was it, sweetheart?â
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. âI- itâs stupid. I was gonna say that Iâm down to sit on your face, baby.â
âThought so,â he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.Â
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, âNow, sit on mâface.â
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Chosoâs pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.Â
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.Â
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.Â
âLuckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on mâface ever since I saw you.â sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.Â
He barely even gets the words out before heâs surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.Â
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. âHngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-â
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him âbabyâ. Itâs as if every wet dream heâs ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
âOh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. Sâgood.â your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.Â
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. âAh! Right there - jusâ like that!â
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost donât notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.Â
Oh, how youâd kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do.Â
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.Â
âShit,â you whisper, voice strained with need.Â
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.Â
And thatâs probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.Â
âOh?â he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. âDidnât think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gonâ make me cum, hm?â
Now, youâve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Chosoâs painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.Â
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.Â
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. Youâre really a dream come to life.Â
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Chosoâs kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.Â
Popping off with a lewd squelch, âFeels good, baby?â
âFeels perfect.â
But he wasnât gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.Â
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.Â
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Chosoâs mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.Â
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.Â
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Chosoâs pretty face.Â
Youâve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Chosoâs wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.Â
âDidnât say we were done yet, sweetheart.â he mutters. You werenât done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.Â
âHah- fuck-â you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. âSo fuckinâ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.â The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.Â
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.Â
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. Itâs animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.Â
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Chosoâs eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
âNow, what do we say, sweetheart?â
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldnât have it any other way. âThank you.â
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that youâre splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.Â
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.Â
âAh- hngh- oh fuckkk.â you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Chosoâs shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till youâre gagging and moaning around them.Â
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldnât see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
âNow now, wouldnât want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brotherâs would get worried.â he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when youâre being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. âThereâs no one else home, though?.â
The corners of Chosoâs lips lift into a devilish grin, âThe neighbors, sweetheart.â
His tone is teasing, but thereâs an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. Heâs just joking, right? Right?
âWha-â
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time heâll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you donât know what it feels like when youâre empty without him.Â
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
Thereâs no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.Â
âSh-shit, sweetheart. God, sâtight. better than I ever couldâve imagined.â he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
âOh, yeah- wanted this for so long-â
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you canât leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.Â
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.Â
Maybe you say those words out loud - you donât even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, âMore? My sweetheart wants more?â
And, as youâve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.Â
âThen fucking- take it.â he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, âYes. Yes yes yes- wanâ cum. Need more. Need you-â
âFuck- Hngh-â is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Chosoâs balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all heâs wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
âSh-shit, sweetheart.â he rasps into your heated skin, âSo close- mâ so close.â
You all but sob at his words, âMâtoo- hngh- ah, mâgonna cum, baby.â
You didnât expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didnât think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you âShit, youâre driving mâcrazy, yâknow that?â
âI know.â you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didnât expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Chosoâs hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, âAlways did, yâknow?â
âI know.â
âNo- yâdonât hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-â
âChoso, just kiss me.â
And then youâre kissing him. And heâs kissing you like youâre the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesnât match the way he rams his cock inside you.Â
And then youâre cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.Â
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white youâve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
Itâs messy. Itâs sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that itâs all you could ever want.Â
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isnât seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.Â
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isnât laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
âMy parents are coming home tomorrow.â you start, casually.Â
âMhm. But Iâll still be around here, sweetheart.â Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks heâd made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.Â
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. âFor babysitting?â
âNope.â
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.Â
âGod, am I glad your parents arenât home.âÂ
Except maybe those.Â
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
âWell, we still have time so how about-â
A distant click!
âHoney, weâre home~!â
Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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âWHATT? NEVER SEEN A GHOSTT..â

summary: next time be respectful for gojoâs memorial. . .
tags: ghost!gojo x fem!reader, smut, threesome (ig ..?), use of clone techniques, jjk spoilers, mean gojo, Ćral sex (f!recieving), size difference,belly bulging, full nelson, degrading, dumbification, etc, mdni.
w.c: 4k . . .
a/n: GUYSSS WE GOIN UPPP âđœ TYY FOR 1,7K MWAAAAA
+ sorry for the errors
kinktober masterlist

the halloween theme park buzzes with screams from rollercoasters and actors in horror costumes that look almost too real. you walk arm in arm with your friends, all of you decked out in matching monster high costumes. at first, you werenât into it, but after enough pestering, you caved and ordered clawdeenâs full outfit.
the crowd canât stop complimenting the four of you. from the boots to the hair, everything is spot-on. but gosh these platform boots are killing you. you can already feel tomorrowâs regret setting in.
âooo, letâs try this ride before we leave,â one of your friends says through the fake fangs sheâs wearing as draculaura. you all turn your heads to see what sheâs pointing at. a sign reads infinity maze, with eerie, glowing blue eyes blinking on and off. itâs famous, mostly because the guy who designed itâgojo satoruâdied a few years ago, turning it into some kind of attraction with ghost stories attached.
you scoff. people are suchwimps.
as you approach, youâre grateful for your speed passes because the line is insane. âokay, how about we make a bet?â your cleo-dressed friend suggests. âslowest time pays for dinner.â
you grin at the challenge, nodding along with everyone else.
as you wait, something catches your eyeâa giant memorial statue of gojo satoru, standing tall near the maze entrance. his cocky grin is frozen in stone, and beneath it, the descriptiom reads,
in loving memory of satoru gojo. forever lovable and the strongest.
you roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. âwho gives a fuck about him?â you say, loud enough for your friends to hear. they giggle, and you continue, âseriously, theyâre doing the most with this memorial. itâs not that deep.â
one of your friends shakes her head, trying not to laugh too hard. âitâs haunted, remember?â she says mockingly, to which you just snicker.
âhaunted, my ass.â
your first friend goes into the maze, and you start timing her on your phone. almost three minutes later, she comes out breathless, claiming the only scary part was a worker grabbing her ankle at the end.
next up are the others, who all manage to escape in under two minutes. the pressureâs on now, but you refuse to be the one paying for dinner. with a quick glance at your friends, you flash your speed pass to the coordinator, ready to sprint through this lame maze and leave them all in the dust.
your platform boots thud heavily against the creaking wooden floor, each step echoing in the suffocating silence. the door slams shut behind you with a sharp clack, sealing you inside. a deep breath fills your lungs, but the air feels heavy, thick. the faint glow of flickering lights ahead barely cuts through the darkness, revealing the first roomâa classroom?
itâs an old, japanese-style classroom, but something feels off. chairs are scattered across the floor like a struggle took place, and bloody handprintsâtoo real for comfortâsmear the walls. your heart races as a sudden crack of thunder rips through the air, making the weak lights above you flicker wildly. it feels like youâve been transported, as if this isnât a theme park anymore... like youâre somewhere else, somewhere you shouldnât be.
you inch forward, boots sinking into the floorboards with each loud creakk. you canât shake the feeling that the room is watching you. the chalkboard looms at the front, with jagged, uneven writing smeared across it
look behind you
your stomach twists. your mind fights to stay rationalâitâs just part of the maze, itâs not real. but your hands are trembling as you slowly turn. nothing. just scattered desks and the harsh, stuttering light overhead. thunder crashes again, timed too perfectly.Â
your heart rate slows a bit, but you mutter under your breath, stupid maze, trying to shake off the unease as you head toward the next door. the sign above it reads, hall of mirrors,
the knob feels cold in your hand as you twist it, stepping into the next room. pitch-black darkness swallows you whole, except for the mirrors that tower from floor to ceiling. hundreds of them, endless reflections stretching out in every direction. your eyes adjust to the faint, flickering lightâjust enough to see yourself, but not much else.
âfuck,â you whisper, hating mirror mazes with a passion. you move cautiously, knowing youâll bump into a dead end at some point. your reflection multiplies with every turn, making it feel like youâre being watched from all angles. you stop in front of one mirror, catching your breath, and take a moment to adjust your costume.
you smooth down the sheer purple mini skirt, making sure your wolf ears are straight on your head. you shift slightly, checking out your ass in the reflection, appreciating how well the outfit hugs your body. youâre about to laugh at yourself when your eyes catch somethingâa shadow
a figure. behind you.Â
your breath stops cold. your friends hadnât mentioned anyone being in here with you. you freeze, heart pounding as you stare into the reflection, too terrified to turn around.
âo-oh um, did I come in the room too early?â you stammer, your voice barely steady, assuming heâs the worker who grabbed your friendâs foot earlier. you swallow hard, trying to make sense of the tension creeping up your spine. the lights flicker again, casting shadows that stretch too long. your eyes twitch as you stare into the mirrorâheâs still there, standing so still it sends a chill down your spine.
the lights flicker again, plunging the room into darkness. your pulse races. you can feel his presence behind you, closer now, even though you havenât turned around. every hair on your body stands on end, anticipation mingling with fear. when the lights finally come back, your breath catches in your throat.
gojo satoru.
he stands right behind you, towering over your smaller frame, his eyes glowing like cold fire through the mirror. his presence is overwhelming, suffocating, andelectrifying. his ocean-blue gaze locks onto yours through the reflection, freezing you in place. you canât move, canât breathe, as his lips curl into a slow, dark smile.
ânahhh, you came at a good time,â he drags out, voice low, rough, as it echoes through the room. the sound of it, mixed with the flickering lights, makes your knees weak. he steps closer, his icy fingers brushing the hem of your skirt, sending a shiver down your spine. your breath hitches as you feel his touch, subtle yet possessive.
âand who are you supposed to be?â his voice is condescending, almost mocking, as his hand continues to toy with the fabric, lifting it just slightly. the way he says it makes your heart race faster, your skin prickling with a mixture of fear and something elseâsomething darker.
you glance up, meeting his gaze in the mirror, tears forming in your eyes. this canât be real. his white hair falls messily around his face, his long lashes shadowing those dangerously beautiful eyes.
âh-how? y-youâre dead,â you blurt out, ignoring his question as panic takes over. but his chuckleâlow, darkâvibrates against the back of your neck, making you shudder. youâre trapped between the mirror and him, his breath warm and taunting against your skin.
âthat i am,â he murmurs, his lips so close to your ear, âbut you know what they say⊠energy never dies. you brought me here.â his words wrap around you, suffocating, intoxicating. your mind spins, trying to comprehend. you brought him here? how could you possiblyâ?
âh-how?â your voice is barely a whisper, trembling as you try to make sense of his words. it feels like the room is shrinking, like the walls are closing in, the air too thick to breathe.
âdonât play dumb now,â he chides, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. the heat of his palm sends sparks through your body. you shouldnât want this, but the way his fingers tease your skin, the slow drag of his hand, has you clenching your thighs together.
suddenly, it hits you. images of you mocking his memorial, laughing at his statue, flashing through your mind. his low chuckle tells you he knows exactly what youâre remembering.
âi-i didnât mean-â
âdidnât mean it? nahh, pretty, you fuckinâ meant it.â his plush lips press against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that make your knees weak. fuck, you shouldnât be getting turned on by this, by a ghost. yet, your body betrays you, burning up under his touch.
he leans into you, his teeth grazing your exposed skin, making you flinch. fangs? you tremble as he brushes his fingers under your chin, lifting your face so your wide, glossy eyes meet his through the mirror.
âall that nasty energy you have within you⊠mmm, thatâs why.â his voice drops as he nibbles on your earlobe, tugging lightly on your hoop earrings, making you wince.
ââm sorry, j-just donât hurt me, Iâll do anything,â you stammer, your voice shaky as his grip on your chin tightens. his movements still, and the way he smirks behind you makes your heart sink. youâve never felt so exposed, so vulnerableâlike you just handed him your dignity on a silver platter.
without a word, he pushes your back down, forcing you to brace yourself against the mirror, your fingertips smudging the glass as you struggle to keep steady. glancing to another mirror, you see him crouching down, eyeing your clothed cunt with dangerous curiosity.
âanything, she saysâ, gojo quietly says, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you arch your back just right for him. his eyes darken when he notices how soaked your panties are, the fabric clinging to your folds, sucked in by the wet heat between your thighs. of course, the lights choose now not to flickerâhow fucking embarrassing.
with a quick, rough tug, gojo hooks his finger into your panties, pulling them side to side, watching how your chubby folds swallow the fabric before yanking them aside, fully exposing your dripping cunt. you clench hard at the sudden cool breeze against your exposed skin, and he pauses, mesmerized.
âyou like this, huh? getting off to a dead man⊠ohh, youâre disgusting,â he mocks, his voice low and sinister.
ââm going to make sure you live your dirty fantasies,â he growls, his tone laced with intent.
and he really is.
gojo has been diving into your cunt for what felt like hours, his impossibly slimy tongue lapping up your juices as your gummy walls snugly embrace him. your hands grip the sides of the mirror for dear life, feeling him reach the deepest parts of you. youâre moaning like a bitch in heat, your desperation rising as his spare hand mercilessly toys with your clit, not in cute circles, but pinching and pulling on your sensitive nub with no mercy whatsoever.
your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably as he pushes you to your third orgasm, broken moans escaping your glossed lips. your pussy slowly feels numb, overwhelmed by how hungrily heâs eating you out. do they not feed him in his world?
ânghââtoru, itâs too m-much,â you hiccup, and he growls behind you, the sound vibrating through your body. at this point, youâve completely forgotten about your friends, about the stupid betâyouâre lost in the most toe-curling head of your life.
your stomach churns unexpectedly as you cum again, your brain so fuzzy that you canât even comprehend it. he loudly slurps up your mess, not wasting a single drop as he licks you clean, your cunt twitching around his tongue. when he pulls his tongue from your gaping hole, your swollen folds throb in response as he grins at your state.
âheh, look at youâjust a slut for a ghost!â he taunts, now standing behind you, grinding his achy bulge against your exposed cunt. his eyes never leave your face in the mirror.
âletâs see how much dick she can take,â he mutters to himself, cupping your pussy, clearly addressing her rather than you. as you catch onto his words, a wave of confusion and excitement hits you. how much? thereâs more than one?
before you can process anything, you blink once and find yourself in the most insane position youâve ever been inâfull nelson. gojo has you completely at his mercy, holding your legs high above your head with a firm grip, locking you in place like a ragdoll. your tall platform boots dangle helplessly in the air, the sensation thrilling and humiliating as you stare at your reflection in the endless mirrors surrounding you. your stomach twists at the sheer size difference between your body and his, your eyes widening as you see your slick, swollen cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for him.
your miniskirt is now so short that itâs bunched up around your waist, exposing more skin than youâd ever intended. your eyes drop lower, and you gulp as you take in the sight of his cock, standing proudly upright. the base is a tan colour, thick and powerful, with mean veins decorating the sides that pulse with each heartbeat. the bulbous tip is a deep pink, glistening with droplets of cum that catch the dim light.
with one hand firmly securing your legs, gojo uses his other to tease you, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds, the sensation sending electric jolts through your body. you bite your lip at the girth of his shaft, feeling a mix of excitement and horror. heâs definitely bigger than all your previous exes, and with every second you spend in this position, he brings undeniable shame onto them.
âcan you handle it, baby?â he taunts, his voice dripping with condescension as he revels in your predicament.
âyes, I can-â
without lettint you finish, he thrusts into you, burying himself deep within your slick warmth. the suddenness takes your breath away, and you let out a gasp as he fills you completely. his girth stretches you in a way youâve never experienced before, almost burning as your gummy walls clench around him, trying to accommodate his size. each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, a delicious blend of pain and ecstasy as you realize you can only take it.
gojo holds you firmly in place, using this ruthless position to keep you utterly at his mercy, revelling in your helplessness. with each powerful thrust, he drives deeper, hitting spots inside you that make your vision blur and your legs tremble. you canât escape, all you can do is take what he gives you, your body completely surrendered to the pleasure.
âlook at you, taking it so well,â he growls, a wicked grin stretching across his face as he watches your reflection in the mirror. your moans fill the room, echoing off the glass, mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. the sweat glistens on his body, making his white hair stick to his forehead, adding to the rawness of the moment. âyouâre nothing but a greedy little slut, arenât you?â
you can only whimper in response, your head spinning as his relentless rhythm pushes you closer to the edge. your thighs shake uncontrollably as he hits that sweet spot, the coil in your stomach tightening with every thrust. youâve completely forgotten everything but the way he stretches you out, your body fitting around him perfectly as if you were made for him.
as gojo thrusts into you relentlessly, your collar jingles with every powerful movement, a stark reminder of your current position. each chime echoes in the room, amplifying your vulnerability as he drinks in the sight of your pretty, disheveled form. he watches how your eyes flutter in bliss, how your lips part with each thrust, and how your reflection reflects the pure ecstasy etched across your face.
âwhat happened to all that toughness?â he sneers, his breath hot against your ear as he quickens his pace. âwanna tell me how stupid this is?â his laughter reverberates through the air, as he reminds you of your sly comment.
the humiliation of his words ignites a flame deep within you, and despite the embarrassment, your body craves more. your jewelry clinks and jingles as he pounds up into you, each sound mingling with the echoes of your moans. the sensation is overwhelming, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of submission, your mind hazy as pleasure clouds your thoughts.
as you struggle to keep your eyes open, the world around you blurs and spins. you canât tell if itâs the overwhelming pleasure or the way heâs wrecking you, but you swear you see multiple gojos swarming around the two of you in the mirrors. they grin wickedly, each one reflecting the same smug confidence, but youâre too lost in ecstasy to process it completely.
am I seeing things? you wonder,
your mind foggy from the pleasure coursing through your body. each thrust sends you spiral deeper into submission, heat pooling in your core, ready to explode.
then, without warning, you feel another hand, another gojo, playing with your pussy. your eyes shoot open, panic flooding your senses as you choke back a gasp.
he can clone himself!
your body responds eagerly to the dual sensations, the original gojo still jack hammerinh relentlessly inside you while his clone teasingly rubs your clit, heightening your pleasure to unimaginable heights. as if sensing your need, the clone moves closer, rubbing his chubby tip along your widened folds. you scream internally, panic flashing through your mind as he presses against you, the overwhelming stretch igniting both fear and pleasure.
thereâs no fucking way.
the clone pushes in slowly, stretching you beyond your limits, sending shockwaves through your body. you cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain, tears brimming in your eyes. heâs moulding himself deep within your walls as you feel every inch of your velvety walls being re-designed for him.
the original gojo leans down, his breath hot against your ear. âcâmon, big baaaad wolf, can you handle both of us?â he taunts the nickname referring to your costume, as his thrusts becoming more forceful as the clone fills you. âi thought you were a big girl.â
you can only moan in response, the sound mingling with the jingle of your jewelry as they continue to drive you wild. the mirrors reflect your stateâmultiple gojos swarming around you, each one more enticing than the last. their mocking smiles deepen your humiliation, but the pleasure they bring you makes it impossible to care. both their cock heads rushing as if it were a race to reach your cervix as you squeak at the brutal thrusts.
âlook at you, a pathetic mess,â the original gojo mocks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as you squirm between them. your gaze lazily drifts to the your tummy where a large bulge forming beneath your costume, moans escaping your lips at the sight. âyou love being filled up like this, donât you? whoâs the stupid one now?â
your body betrays you, your pussy clenching around both of them as they thrust in sync, stretching you to your limits. the lewd squelches and sloshes of your dripping cunt fill the air, drowning out all coherent thoughts. each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, the overwhelming sensations causing your mind to spiral into oblivion.
the clone suddenly flicks your head, thr pain forcing you to look at him, and you feel a rush of clarity amidst the haze. âstay with us, pretty,â he demands, his tone both condescending and sultry.Â
âwe- hgnn -want to see that face you make when you fall apart.â you shudder at the sound of his voice, the way it sends waves of heat coursing through your body.
âmmfâi canât. . . âs too much,â you babble, your voice rising higher as the clone continues to push into you, the overwhelming sensation of fullness sending shockwaves through your body. pleasure and pain blur together, and you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.
âohhh, but you can,â the original gojo growls, thrusting harder, your body shaking as you sob loudly, the sounds echoing off the mirrors as your achy walls clenching around his thick shafts.
every angle captures your struggleâyour skin glistening with sweat, your costume soaked and clinging to your curves, and the way youâre trapped between two versions of the man you crave. the reflections amplify the chaos, a never-ending loop of desire and degradation as youâre thrust deeper into submission.
âwhat about your friends?â the clone taunts, a wicked smirk plastered across his face. âwhat will they think when they find you like this?â the thought sends a wave of humiliation crashing over you, but the pleasure is relentless, drowning out any semblance of reality.
âanddd what about that bet you had?â the original gojo continues from behind, his voice dripping with mockery. âi bet they wouldnât believe how much you enjoy being filled up by us.â you nod at his words, sniffles escaping your nostrils as fat globs of tears streak down your cheeks, your makeup a ruined mess.
theyâre so deep inside you that it feels like theyâre going to split you in half. each thrust stretches you to your limits, their relentless rhythm pushing you closer to the brink.
you swear you feel him in your chest.
âplease⊠i need toââ you gasp, your body trembling as the clone toys with your clit, electric jolts of pleasure coursing through you. your senses blur, and all you can feel is the overwhelming fullness and the pleasure spirall out of control.
âlet go, pretty,â the clone whispers, fingers dancing over your sensitive bud. âshow us how much you want it.â
with one final thrust from the original gojo, the heat builds to an explosive climax. you feel your body tighten around them, walls pulsing as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes over you.
âfuckk!â you scream, body convulsing as you squirt, release gushing out of you and mixing with his cum. gojoâs thick cum shoots deep inside as he paints your gummy walls a pretty milky white, creating an intense mess that ends up coats your inner thighs. the overwhelming sensation sends you spiraling into a realm of ecstasy, every nerve ending igniting as you succumb to the bliss.
âwhat a sight,â the original gojo grunts, breath heavy with satisfaction. youâre lost in the aftermath, body shaking as you ride the waves of pleasure, mind fogged with overwhelming satisfaction and disbelief at the chaos that has consumed you.
as you try to come back from your intense orgasm, the clone pulls back and disappears. when gojo finally slides out of your cunt, a waterfall of cum oozes from you, thick globs spilling forthâitâs utterly inhumane. gojo carefully places your wobbly legs, which had been in the air for what felt like hours, back on the ground as you collapse, the numbness too much to bear.
the mess cascades down your gaping hole, sticky and warm, creating a thick pool beneath you. you canât help but feel utterly exposed, the evidence of their domination staining your costume and making you acutely aware of how thoroughly youâve been filled.
the sight is almost too much to bear, the way your body quakes with the remnants of pleasure while the glistening fluid slowly drips, accentuating the chaos youâve just experienced. you feel humiliated yet impossibly aroused, the reflections in the mirrors surrounding you amplifying your vulnerability as he stands, watching you tremble.
âcâmon, baby, your friends have been waiting,â he coos, picking you up bridal style as you mumble nonsense, your brain so fucked that you can barely string a thought together. he strides through the mirror maze and into the last room, steadying you onto the ground for you to exit on your own.
he fixes your hair and outfit, quickly pecking your lips before opening the door and giving you a final push. you stumble out, the cool breeze hitting you like a splash of cold water, bringing you back to reality.
âgirl, what the hell took you so long?â your friends shout as you try to steady your wobbly legs. one of them shoves her phone in your face, and your jaw drops.
50 fucking minutes.
ât-the worker wasââ
ât-the worker- shut up. now youâre buying us food.â one of them mocks, handing you your belongings while they stare you up and down, taking in how badly youâre shaking and your frizzy hair.
âjeez did a demon fuck you? you look like you got meannn dick in there,â she jokes, and everyone bursts into laughter, including you. they have no idea what youâve just been through, but you canât help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

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Hi gamers guess who's thinking abt unit swap stuff again. Shiho and Saki discussing who would be best fit to play the cast in their musicals knowing full well they're going to assign Honami to the main character like they always do and the Saki will insist on playing the main villain like she always does and then Ichika gets stuck playing every other character while also playing the trumpet like he always does
#rat rambles#sekai posting#unit swap au#shiho initially only does backstage work when it comes to their actual shows but eventually they get talked into taking some on stage roles#also yeah Ive been fleshing them out a bit more but mostly in the concept department as unfortunately there rly isnt much more I can do#without fleshing out wxs too and Im too scared to and also have too few ideas#most of what I've said in the past of each of their general roles in production still holds true but Ive musicalified them#one thing I do want to do with them is have them make more and more connections with the other units as time goes on#so eventually what was initially going to be a 2 person project turns into a whole hord of ppl helping shiho and the gang#this is mostly because of my current vison of unit swap shiho and I think itd be cute to see them be surrounded by so much support#they still mostly insist on only having the 4 of them perform on stage but occasionally rui pops in to help with backstage stuff in shows#shiho is an actual actor in and plenty of folks will show up to help with set design#also fun honami struggling rly hard with acting until eventually it starts to click and suddenly the others keep asking her for advice and#she has absolutely no idea what to tell them because she doesnt even know how she started being able to stand on stage without trembling#let alone how she got to a point where others look up to her acting she just walks on stage blacks out and then wins#the secret is that in the dance club she joined to try to get better endurance minori pushed her into the deep end on accident#you see minori made the club along side airi to basically try to get a better grasp on dancing by teaching it since she had spent most of#her time just learning and practicing by herself and airi was like well maybe a good way to wrap your head around it better would be to#stop bashing your head into the same wall and try changing your perspective with it a bit#or smth like that again still in development stuff#and since minori basically threw herself in the deep end when she was first learning she tried to start similarly with the others#which had mixed results as it meant that they spent a lot longer on parkour than dancing during the first year dvskdhjd#all while minori continued to give everyone else heart attacks every meeting with her messed up cartoon luck#but hey all of this did absolute wonders for honami's physical capabilities and also for her confidence to a degree at least#bad news now saki always tries to write in unecesary action in every scene and shiho has to be like we are not making honami do a backflip#everytime she has a line#also Im sure you could put two and two together by now but yeah saki and shiho write most of the scripts together#ichika usually helps with the music composition and all of them work together to brainstorm and create the set pieces and costumes#they may have like zero budget but they have the power of âšfriendshipâš and also eventually rui#oh yeah and honami plans out most of the choreography with some imput from the others
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