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#it just feels a bit infantilizing you know
dunmeshistash · 7 hours
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I really enjoy your deep dives and analyses of all the characters, and Milsiril especially. I haven't done as much research and investigation as you have, but I have my own ideas about Milsiril. I think she's rather... delusional might be the word? I agree that Otta was probably exaggerating and she didn't actually consider the children that she adopted as pets, but I think that she didn't have what we might consider a normal perception of the children, specifically Kabru.
First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world. Her decision to train him when he asks is far from complete acceptance of his goal. What she says is "until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.
Secondly, I think that there's a lot of symbolism around the dolls. Bear in mind that these are all my own interpretations. First off, Milsiril's love and friendship for her dolls shows her as almost a child-like figure. Her dolls do what she wants them to, but they're people to her. She's a child in her own little world, and the kids she adopts might be a part of that-playmates, just like her dolls are. Bear in mind that I'm not trying to infantilize her or say that she has one, straightforward motivation. One of the things I love about Dungeon Meshi is how complex every single character is. She probably has many driving forces behind adopting children, but it seems to me like this might be one of them.
That's about all I have for her, at least at the moment. I think she might have some underlying mental illness or trauma that's skewing her perception of things, but I definitely don't agree with the people who think she's completely unstable or immoral. Thanks for looking at this!
Hey! Thank you!
Yeah I think the dolls is what lots of people use to say she likes to "manipulate" people or be in charge of them in a way, and I understand the symbolism of a puppet master since she has full control of these dolls and wont deny that might be something!
I'm not sure if I agree with this part tho.
First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world.
I think Milsiril mostly can't keep up with Kabru getting older so fast since he's short lived, to me its almost like she sees him as a toddler when he's already a teen. And that's a common issue between long and short lived races so it's not something unique to her.
To me the reason she's so upset seems to be trauma from Utaya tbh. She was there and saw all those horrible things happen, it affected her so much she retired, and Kabru is the only survivor, a small frail child that lost everything and that now she sees like a son. Wouldn't you want to protect someone you see as a small scared child? Wouldn't you be upset if you learned they want to leave the comfort and safeness you created for them to go back into the horrible world that caused all that suffering he went through? I would.
I think people forget she's basically a war veteran.
She might not know him very well especially now that he left home but I think she knows him about as well as moms usually do, if you mean the cake thing I'm pretty sure she was aware Kabru didn't like elf cake and it's just a silly gag about her being upset he doesn't like her hometown sweet. (And probably also to show he does struggle with having two different backgrounds, Utaya and Milsiril) I think she knows he doesnt like it cause Kabru is never fake in front of her in the interactions we see, I'm pretty sure he tells her when he dislikes something and when he likes something. The other proof is how she took him to the family gathering even tho he didn't explicitly ask, she knew he wanted to go cause she knows that's the type of thin he likes.
About this
That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.
Yeah that's completely right! But I see that as an act of love on her part, even if its misguided and like, not great. She wants to prove to him he's too weak to go on his own because she seems him as a small child. If a 5 year old asked you to teach them to be a soldier so they can go to war how would you feel?
He isn't 5 tho and he clearly COULD take the training. Nothing indicates he ran away from her to be able to go and he talks about how she trained him and helped him study all that he wanted.
So even tho she said something bad and wanted to convince him the world out there was too cruel, she ultimately let go of him so he could do what he needed.
And Kabru even acknowledges she was right, the world WAS as shitty as she described and even worse. When he says he still doesn't want to go back where he has a soft bed and cake I don't think it's because he hated it there, but because he has the determination to face the cruel world she described cause he doesn't want Utaya to happen again.
Again about the dolls I think they're a source of comfort for her, she was clearly traumatized and going thru something her whole life, you don't get nicknamed "gloomy" for no reason, even her fellow canaries bullied her and thought she was weird.
The children she adopts might be an evolution of her doll thing I'll admit. But more in the sense they're a source of comfort for her, she was someone who was alone for most of her life, being able to love and be loved by children is probably something that makes her really happy. Even if her "motives" might be a little weird and she might not be fully altruistic (who is) what she does seem to be a net positive. Considering the two people we know that she helped (Mithrun and Kabru) she successfully helped them become independent of her. They were both vulnerable people in her care at one point but both are now independent and navigating life. (Mostly independent in Mithruns case but he doesn't need her in specific) That's my arguments to why she doesn't really treat real people as dolls, dolls can never become independent of you.
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eldritch-spouse · 2 days
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This is a bit of a loaded question, however curiosity is a stronger beast than lust is
Do any of your characters have, specifically, a rape kink? Or get turned on by the idea of rape?
Gomen I know this isn't a very nice question :(
[Anon, the rape warning is in the blog for a reason, there's no need to apologize because you have crossed no boundaries. However, unlike you, these guys-]
TW: NONCON; Death; Mild dehumanization.
Kalymir. Listen. He just loves to dominate. It's his whole thing. Seeing you fight for your dignity, your body- Tossing everything and anything you can to try and slow this hulking beast, but deep down, he knows you know it's already over. He knows he's going to get his way and your running, screaming, kicking and punching only gets him more excited. Because, to Kalymir, sex is hunting. And you're exceptional prey. Crying, begging for mercy, slumping under him in utter defeat- Growing to worship him in time, all things Kalymir loves. Granted he wouldn't be as brutal to you as he was to past lays who meant nothing to him, the people who ended up shattered and lifeless from the brutality of his desire and the sadism that fuels him. If there wasn't a splatter of blood every single time Kalymir pistoned, then something was wrong.
Vesper. Such a sweetheart he is, so generous in his offerings- Until you recall that Vesper is the Icon of Lust, and lust is sometimes quite ugly. Vesper's violation of your will is subtle, peppered in perfumed pheromones and arousing lilts, suggestions of consent, illusions of desire. You will not deny him, because you cannot, he demands your carnality. Is Vesper capable of outright rape? Yes, that's how he fights, that's how he fulfills the fantasies of rotten people who strike deals with him, and Vesper does get aroused from his own vile actions. Does he prefer to trick you into thinking you want things? Yes, a lot more.
Morell. Another one who loves the hunt. But more than that, Morell is just a little too used to treating humans like a commodity rather than a person. All piggies kind of flail and whine about it, all of you make faces and get temperamental. What does it matter anyway? Play nice and let him make you squeal one last time before you end up on a platter... Although Morell will rape you in a non-lethal manner, he's infantilizing throughout it, trying to soothe you and shushing you, treating it like a dumb animal's tantrum. The damage is fixed with a few kisses and a nice meal, in his eyes.
Vinnel. Oh the sneering sadist. He wants you broken and crying beneath him, trying to hide your face and curl in on yourself, shaking like a leaf. He wants you covered in cuts and begging him to stop. What a pretty, pretty image you'd make, especially if put on display this way. But he's willing to be nice, oh very very nice, you just have to not get on his nerves. Very simple. His attention will still generally happen regardless of you wanting it or not, what changes is the degree to which he'll be relentlessly cruel in his assault. The more you suffer, the more he quakes in pleasure.
Nebul. Your will is secondary and you know this. Consent? No, you're a pet, he determines your consent, the same way he determines your entire routine. Punishments during his training oftentimes involve sexual assault, because it's brilliantly effective in drilling powerlessness into the minds of his victims, and your powerlessness is a drug that makes him feel oh so alive. Nebul likes that no matter how much you try, you're nothing but a puppet to his desires, and you will one day share them in a complementary fashion.
Patches. He feels very guilty about it, not that it makes it any better. It's not very often that it happens, but sometimes his own inability to take initiative or suceed in courting will have Patches erroneously casting his frustrations onto you and fantasies of rape flourish- Arousing him because of how cathartic they feel. Would he act on them? Only as an opportunist. Would Stitches outright rape? Oh yes, you're fucked with that one. Curiously, Patches also has vivid daydreams of you assaulting him, and the more degrading you are in his mind, the more he longs for it in real life.
Santi has enjoyed rape before. He's taken the sexual dignity of others before to make himself feel powerful, and it's something he won't do again. But sometimes, the thought rears its ugly head. Remnants of who he was, paired with a more sinister side of his nature.
Roch. A bit like Patches, he more so fetishizes the possibility of being taken advantage of while he sleeps. Roch enjoys the idea of being touched inappropriately or outright used by someone who stumbles upon him and simply decides to have the soft little imp all to themself. He doesn't tell you outright that you have permission to fuck him in most states, simply hopes that you'll be rotten enough to discard his consent entirely.
Ludwig. Like most wrath demons, rape is at the very least a semi-frequent fantasy. You're very lucky Ludwig happens to have more control over himself than most of his kin, but oh, that doesn't mean you're safe. While he will only harm you further if he has to, Lud does morbidly get off on intimidating you into performing sexual acts for him. Sometimes he doesn't even want penetration, he just wants to see the fear in your eyes while you bare yourself to him, touch yourself, suck him off, or just present and wait for a load on your ass.
Nick. She likes abusing her physical might. Ideally, she won't have to, but if it comes to that, Nicele gets a pretty big kick out of seeing you crumble to her commands. If she barks at you to ride her fingers, then you better. If she pushes your shoulders down and starts grinding her cunt on your face, then you better stay still and take it. Wouldn't want anything to break now, would we? Fear is a beautiful look on you.
Sybastian. Listen, it's a bit genetic in this case. Sybastian's used to snatching people. Careful not to trigger that instinct when he's trying to get frisky with you. It doesn't help that part of mimic sexual foreplay involves surprising their partner with sexual attention, so your initial flailing will only make him more enthusiastic because it signifies he succeeded in shocking you. He finds it fun and stimulating to overwhelm you, which makes gouging consent borderline impossible at times, and there are instances where he simply refuses to let go, therefore assaulting you.
(A lot of other characters are capable of rape but don't necessarily particularly get off on it.)
(Monsters who enjoy rape should not be confused with opportunists, which there are many here. These opportunists would not outright assault someone until the victim is vulnerable enough for the act to be performed, but they would take advantage of situations where they either know that you can't verbalize consent or lack thereof, situations where you may not recognize them, etc...)
Notable opportunists are: Breg; Lacai; Shags; Zizz; Livius; Flints; Jayde; Rinx; Nena; Obie; Belo; Vorago; Glauk; Colmei; Gallon; Fank-e.
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sad-gay-cowboy · 1 year
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look to each their own but I think it's just a bit odd in fanfics where like herbert has a complete personality change and is suddenly like "uwu, i'm actually really emotional and vulnerable and like such a virgin what's a kiss?" and like it's weird for a couple of reasons but honestly I find it a bit sus that this is done to the commonly perceived trans masc character
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seventh-district · 12 days
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not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go
(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)
#today's gone Badly and i'm upset but instead of venting abt it i'm gonna channel that energy into doing a bit of tag rambling abt Boothill#well. less abt Him and more abt uh. self-analyzing my anxiety surrounding contributing to fandoms. he's just today's catalyst#like. i know it's mostly a me thing. i'm hypersensitive to criticism and very conflict avoidant + socially anxious + perfectionistic etc.#so I'm the one that keeps myself from posting more stuff out of fear of being criticized or called-out for what i've made#bc inevitably Someone's gonna see it and think its OOC or a problematic take or they'll misread my intent. etc etc what have you#but like. that's inevitable. there's no way to communicate every single thing with all of the nuance required to avoid misunderstandings#and other times it's not a misunderstanding it's just a difference of opinions and that's Fine!! there's no accounting for personal taste#there's no accounting for several things actually. taste‚ bias‚ lore-knowledge‚ differing levels of chronic-online-ness‚ etc#so this isn't me complaining abt the state of fandom culture (although i do think. sometimes. ppl take shit a bit too seriously)#but anyways all of this is mostly just anxiety-fueled. it's not like i very often actually even receive negative feedback or anything#if anything ppl tend to tell me that i'm overthinking it and killing my own fun and worried that my stuff is more OOC than it is#which like. yeah. Yeah u right :) but that's just the way that i am! always losing the idgaf war i suppose#anyways what's Boothill got to do w this ur wondering. well. i've been thinking abt the quickly emerging concept that he's illiterate.#and it just. has me feeling a lot of ways. and watching ppl disagree over it has me feeling some Bad ways. bc it's def a loaded topic!#if you'll pardon the pun there. and i don't rlly have anything new to add other than that i'm conflicted abt it.#like yeah i saw the leaks days ago. of him mentioning 'not hitting the books' much as a child when we ask him why he sends voice messages#or voice Transcriptions ig. ykwim. and like. *braces for impact* ...i liked it? like. it doesn't feel right to call it endearing#i'm not trying to infantilize him. ok that's not the right word either but ugh. you know? what i mean?? who am i kidding even i don't know#it's not quite right to say that it feels like Representation either. but it's something close i guess#as a southern person myself who didn't receive a 'complete' education due to factors that weren't to do with my intelligence#the concept of seeing him as a capable force to be reckoned with and respected who also happens to have not received much formal education#i like that. i do. but there's so many issues w it at the same time. like. as i said‚ being southern myself has me Wary of the way Hoyo is-#writing him. as well as of the way that the fandom is taking the bits of his lore and running away w them. and i'm Very aware of how ppl-#will see a southern character and be All Too Eager to agree that they're lacking intelligence based on our Redneck™ stereotype#sigh. and before we even go too far with this. it's not even confirmed that hes completely illiterate. which is a valid criticism i've seen#there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions#like. example: that edit i made the other day of him saying 'no thanks i can't read'. wasn't me playing into the stereotype of-#'haha dumb country boy can't read!' it was. in my eyes. something he'd say as a joke to make light of a potential insecurity#like. i think there's far more depth to Boothill's character if ppl could look past the surface. and i dont wanna contribute to the problem#but sometimes ppl Will have stereotypical traits and i wish the same could apply to characters as long as it's done Thoughtfully.
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eurekq · 8 months
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some of the takes people have about astarion i just. ive been talking about this a lot with alexis but no one is allowed to make any more posts about whether the sexual aspects of his romance are "problematic" unless they have actual experience with sex addiction LOL
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raayllum · 2 years
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also bc of the new content / season incoming rayllum and this blog have been getting more attention so just a few reminders / boundaries:
1) I’m not here to offer comfort or approval. You have or like a HC, just go for it. You’re worried or stressed about S4? That’s your thing, I’m happy and excited, and I come here to make fun stuff and have fun, not to offer reassurance (which, take a quick peek through my tags, you can already find spades of). 
2) If you have a question regarding a character’s background or choices, there’s a good chance that information is already included on their wikipedia or on my meta page (directory and all). Please check those places first before sending an ask in. 
3) My theories, opinions, and interpretations are just that: mine, and can matter as much or as little as you want them to. Recently there have been some posts detracting some ideas that I blog about often, or even sparingly originated, in ways that haven’t been particularly kind. By no means do people have to agree with me (like, at all), and while I make the stuff I do because it’s fun, I also put real effort and time into those things, often times 3-4 hours minimum if not more, and having that effort dismissed or derided is a bit hurtful if not also insulting, to say the least. Again, this is absolutely the minority of fans, but I think it’s very easy for people to forget there’s, well, a real whole other person behind a screen. I’m not in this to be right or wrong, I’m here to have fun and explore concepts, possible parallels, etc. Even (and when) I’ve disagreed with a theory or interpretation, I’ve typically done my best to be kind about if it it wasn’t related to trolling. I like to think the same courtesy will be extended to me. 
idk if I’m just tired of seeing the same TTM discourse hashed out all over again (seeing people extend little to no sympathy to either Callum and/or Rayla was frustrating then and is frustrating now) or just feeling jaded by people writing off their relationship like it isn’t a clear cornerstone of the show, like they aren’t each other’s best friends, but I think both stem from being perpetually bored with people who refuse to engage with the media they consume in full, instead siphoning off favourite characters with bad takes and no compassion for anyone else in the cast, since it’s so diametrically opposed with how I - and I would say at least 70-90% of Rayllum fans - actually engage with TDP and its themes, characters, plot lines. Also: the dismissal reeks of jealousy and entitlement and just a little bit of aphobia, tbh 
Basically:
Be kind to each other and please be kind to me. Learn to self regulate your own emotions. Tag properly. I may be taking a tiny step back from engaging with fandom in favour of focusing on writing the oneshots and projects I want to get out before S4 drops, and may see about regulating my ask box a bit more, but I’ll have to wait and see.
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bardkin · 8 months
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feeling like you're "not disabled enough" to quit your job or at least ask for accommodations fuckin' sucks
#venty tags because i'm angry and tired of my fuckin' job. ya'll are free to skip this one if you're not in the right headspace <3#my fuckin' rsd just really got to me today.#your muscles hurt and ache & they hurt enough to be noticeable more often than not.#you expect them to Stop Fucking Hurting SIX MONTHS into having A Job and they seem to have only gotten worse.#but they don't hurt bad ''enough'' to keep you bed ridden.#you get frequent enough headaches but none that are on the level of full on migraines.#they're enough to make you feel like shit but they don't make you physically ill.#so you go in anyway - even though taking pain meds does fuck all for any of it 90% of the time.#your brain fog is Bad but you can force yourself to snap out of it long enough to get a requested task done.#you're barely able to remember how to do multi-step shit that gets done Every Fuckin' Day and thus should be seared into your brain by now.#you're demotivated and depressed but you know none of your coworkers will Get It & you go in anyway -#so you almost have a breakdown at the end of each month but you smother it until you finally get home that day.#you're always exhausted no matter how much or little you sleep or how long or short your work day Actually is -#and every day is a fuckin' slog that only gets worse the later in the week it is.#& if you say anything about how much you hurt or how tired you are...#it's either brushed off or becomes an open invitation to infantilize and/or ''jokingly bully'' you.#you get told to ''toughen up'' or ''get better sleep'' and that ''you can do it.''#ugh. fuck.#i'm in a bit of an ''extremely fucked'' situation bc my work isn't corporate. it's incredibly close-knit & family run.#small business as hell being a service dog training thing.#granted - my boss is disabled / chronically ill so she May understand if i ever say anything.#but my fuckin' coworkers are Glaringly able-bodied & neurotypical. and they're the ones who do most of the ribbing. all of the ribbing.#it's not constant but it's consistent enough that my rsd has me somewhat convinced that most of my coworkers are probably sick of me.#i frequently have intrusive imagined scenarios where i get fired & at least one person says ''good riddance'' or something like that.#i'm a scrawny depressed queer who's only kind of good at sweeping up.#and i can barely do that these days without having to sit down every handful of minutes.#it's just kind of all around fucked rn.#i can't wait to get out of here.
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wally-franks · 1 year
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I feel like people underestimate wally so bad. (In like a lot of aspects.) He obviously isn't a 100000000IQ mastermind. But he also isn't some dumb clueless fuck. He knows his shit!! One huge aspect where it really shows is that he knows how to stay out of trouble!! I think when you work at jds that's literally the smartest thing you could do. Try to get along with as many people as you can and STAY OUTTA TROUBLEEE
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dandan-theberserker · 2 years
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#It’s honestly been kind of shocking to me that apparently the only reason I haven’t spent most of my life#being self-conscious about my height was bc I aggressively internalized the idea that it’s ‘better for women to be shorter’#bc once I realized I uhhhh Wasn’t One#my confidence has been dropping exponentially by the day#realizing my gender has been great but also one big stomach-turning wave of ‘oh This is dysphoria’#It’s another in a long line of things about me that make people prone to infantilize me#Like… fuck I’m seriously looking into those surgeries that make you taller#People really don’t fucking talk about the standards we have for men physically#Not nearly enough#So much is disguised as ‘preferences’ and is really just racism and queerphobia#It makes me not want to go outside sometimes#It makes me want to believe in reincarnation so bad bc maybe next time the universe will get it fucking right#I try to talk about it w my therapist but she only tells me that most of the trans guys she knows are petite and that it’s okay#AND GODDAMNIT I KNOW THAT BUT MOST PEOPLE AREN’T SO KIND ABOUT IT#I HAVE TO LIVE IN THEIR WORLD#Hell I have to live with cis people who are well intentioned but still holding onto toxic beliefs about gender#And they’re learning but sometimes they make me feel like they’re humoring me by acknowledging my gender and pronouns#I’m *trans* not *delusional*#People are so cruel to men in particular who don’t fit their standards of what a man looks like#They’re absolutely vile about it for women too but at least the horrible standards about women are a bit more acknowledged socially#Thanks to very necessary work done by feminists and queer activists!#But hey we need it too#Not every dude is a conventionally attractive and toxically masculine allocishet man#Do you know how much shit most of the guys I know got for being short???#We’re Hispanic we’re usually not that tall#Just… FUCK stop being so condescending about short dudes or dudes with delicate features#Enough with the ‘manlet’s and ironic ‘short king’s#I don’t care if it’s funny#i really fucking don’t#Stop
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bloodsbane · 4 months
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so i really liked this part in the snack/sorbet episode, and since i've been in a Think About Dunmeshi mood the last couple days, i've been trying to interrogate why this little moment caught my attention (besides the fact it's cute and appealing animation-wise - i especially like the movement of chilchuck pulling his head back up and gesturing with his hand afterwards)
i guess the short answer is it's a nice moment between chilchuck and laios. like, to me, it's an oddly... not vulnerable position, but maybe more open for chilchuck? it's a couple things: the POV shot emphasizes the fact that he has to tilt his head up and back to look at laios because of the height difference, and i know it's been shown (mostly in bonus material i think) that laios tries to be careful about how he interacts with chilchuck because chilchuck doesn't like feeling infantilized for his size (like laios not obviously bending/kneeling down to hug him, as an example). like, chilchuck could've still turned his head while looking up, or even walked backwards to look at laios, but he does this instead.
then there's the fact laios is gently pushing chilchuck forward. it's a small thing, but i know pushing can feel... well, pushy, maybe patronizing or rude in some cases, depending on the context and who's doing it, yknow what i mean? but chilchuck doesn't appear to mind. and this last part is probably mostly a me thing, but i think there's a certain amount of trust being demonstrated here, because chilchuck is 1) letting laios guide him, 2) trusting laios enough to not look where he's going for a second, which 3) idk about you but i find the act of walking forward while looking up mildly disorienting
i get this is probably mostly me looking into things a bit more than i need to! but still, i've always really liked the moments where chilchuck demonstrates that he does see laios as their team leader, and generally trusts laios well enough, even if he might prefer laios behave differently and sometimes decides he needs to be pushed to understand/confront certain things. their relationship dynamic is a particular one, kinda subtle, but there's a degree of respect and trust that i just enjoy seeing!
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atticrissfinch · 6 months
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In the Next Room | (joel miller x fem!reader) (oneshot) (18+)
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Masterlist | Ko-fi pairing: neighbor’s fuckbuddy!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When the peace and quiet of your apartment is disturbed by the noisy escapades of the couple in the neighboring unit, you find yourself entranced by the mystery man on the other side of the wall. And when you stumble upon him on a dating app…well, it might just be fate. warnings/tags:  [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, age gap (Joel is 48, reader is under 29), v mild dom!joel, slight voyeurism, joel just straight slutting and whoring it up but…like…in a charming way, masturbation (f), daddy!kink, a looootta size!kink, dirty talk, a liiittle bit of sexting, one (1) swat to the ass, minor degradation!kink, praise!kink, spitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), mild deepthroating, irresponsible unprotected piv, creampie, brief cockwarming, Joel Miller: DILF Extraordinaire even without a kid at home, a teensy weensy bit of ddlg-esque infantilization but nothing extreme, joel and reader just being feral and adorable w each other and having a jolly good ol’ time, reader has hair and is lifted onto a counter sry.  word count: ~11.5K | ao3 a/n: I was chatting with daddy chloe @chloeangelic and she mentioned she knew someone who found out her fuckbuddy was also fucking her neighbor and I said…hold on. Huge idea. So this lovely fic was born. I really love these two and I did not expect it to be this fun and cute and sexy, so I hope you enjoy! title is from In the Next Room by Neon Trees, which I highly recommend you give a listen to. s/o to @saradika for the gorgeous divider ♥️
Taglist Update: This will be my last time using my taglist! For future updates people follow @atticrissfinchupdates 💖
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If you only knew
How hard it is to handle
How bad I want this scandal
Oh, I lose control
When I hear your body move
Through the walls in the next room
--
One thing you’ve really come to appreciate about your new apartment is how quiet your neighbors are. You’ve only been here for about 3 months, but in comparison to your last apartment, the noise level might as well be nonexistent. No persnickety old lady raising hell over the dodgy as fuck elevator by the stairs, no screaming three-year-old behind the door across the hall, no meathead grunting out his squats at 5 AM in the neighboring unit. Just a mild-mannered elderly couple across the way and a cute, perky woman, probably in her 30s, in the apartment to your left. It’s been a silent paradise so far, and you couldn’t be more grateful. 
Until tonight. 
It started off with tampered whimpers, then what sounded like moaned “oh, fuck”s, and finally graduated to a thumping bedframe and a woman screaming. Your next-door neighbor, you gather pretty quickly. And not just wordless screams, very colorful screams.
“Fuck, baby!”
“Oh, shit, Joel! So fucking big!”
“I can’t! Too fucking big, please!”
The headboard on the other side of the drywall knock-knock-knocks against your shared wall where your own headboard stands pathetically dormant in contrast. 
You hear an unintelligible response to her cries in the cadence of a deep, rumbling voice. You’re a sucker for a deep voice, you always have been, and it sounds like the girl next door is having exactly the kind of night you wish you were having. 
“No, fuck, don’t stop! Just so fucking big, Joel!”
The voice rumbles again with a silky lilt to it, and for some unknown reason, you find your eyes drifting closed and your mind filling in the gaps you can’t quite hear. 
I know it’s big, baby, but you can take it. 
Such a good girl for me.
Feel so tight around this fat cock, baby.
Without even having put thought into it, you discover your hand has snaked its way under your panties and is already massaging circles around your clit. Your mouth drops open in a gasp when you slick up your fingers with the evidence of your arousal and you get the rhythm just right against the bundle of nerves pulsing between your legs. 
You thrust up into your hand to the tempo of the headboard crashing into the wall, straining your ear to try and catch even the faintest glimpse of the actual words the man is feeding to her as he pounds her into the mattress.
You’re blessed when his voice raises for a single phrase, a passionate aggression behind his words.
“Yeah, fuckin’ take it for me .”
The words have you bucking into your hand, a moan crackling in your throat, and your fingers picking up speed. Your ears take it upon themselves to filter out the shrieking voice of your neighbor and solely hone in on the husky tones of the man. You imagine he’s older, large and imposing, with hands that dwarf yours as his fingers slip in the spaces between your own and restrain them above your head as his huge cock wreaks havoc on your insides. 
It’s been months since you've been laid, months since you’ve even had a single viable candidate in this new city. It’s not a stretch to claim that you’re fucking desperate, hence your hand taking residence in your underwear and getting off to the auditory scraps granted to you by this mystery man.  
The woman’s voice breaks through your selective hearing barrier.
“Fuck, I’m coming, Joel!”
And he bestows his heightened voice on you once more as he replies.
“I know, sweet girl, I know. I’m so fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want it? ”
You shut out the woman’s voice again in favor of embarrassingly whimpering out loud to your empty room, “Inside, please, daddy.”
You hear a guttural grunt, and you picture your faceless man’s hips stuttering into you as he fills you up with all he has to give you. You gasp as your orgasm floods through you, shooting warmth through your limbs and sparks through your brain as your hand slows to a stop. You pant as you feel the faint pulsing of your clit under your fingertips, and both the couple and the furniture in the next room fall silent.
Your unsoiled hand reaches up to cover your face, dragging down it as you come to terms with what you just did. 
Fuck, you need to get laid. 
You’ve been rotting in bed all morning, taking full advantage of your peaceful Saturday with no obligations. You scroll mindlessly on your phone as a notification pops up indicating that a package you were expecting was dropped off at your door. You groan, relishing the precious moments in your soft fortress of sheets, and roll lethargically out of bed. You throw on a pair of leggings to cover your bottom half and straighten your mussed camisole to ensure all nipples are accounted for within the confines of the fabric from a night of tossing and turning. You perform a solid full-body stretch, feeling your joints pop faintly and pleasantly as you pad to your front door. 
As you pull it open, you bend over to grab the small box, just as the door to your left swings open. You swivel your head to see a man, a large, older man, stepping out the door and pulling it shut behind him. As you snap upright, the man startles, a hand flying over his heart in surprise. 
“Jesus, you scared me,” He drawls with a small grin gracing his scruffy–fuck, beautiful –face.
After a few moments, you realize that you’re just fucking gawking at him. “I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to!”
He chuckles, a gorgeous little sound from plush lips, and gives a courteous shake of his head. “All good. Hope you got somethin’ excitin’ there.”
You blink, a quizzical look on your face before you process what he said. “Oh! The package. Not really, just a new milk frother. Gotta have those homemade lattes, you know?” You say with a short laugh, cringing internally at how awkward you’ve suddenly become around this man. Are you really this out of practice with flirting? Not even flirting, just human interaction itself?
The man shrugs, his smile still in place. “More of a black coffee man, myself.”
“Bold,” You attempt to tease, nodding your head. “Need all the energy you can get after a night like that, I suppose,” You say a bit boldly yourself, gesturing to the door he just came out of. 
His eyes widen a little, a pale flush entering his cheeks as he gives an uncomfortable cough into his fist. “Uh, ‘s-’scuse me?”
Your eyes widen in response when your brain catches up with what your mouth just ran away with. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I just, uh…had a bit of a front-row…ear to your activities last night. Walls are a little thin,” You clench your teeth in a show of shared embarrassment, jabbing your thumb over your shoulder toward your own apartment.
The blush intensifies on his cheeks as he gives an uncomfortable laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Shit. I, uh, I’m sorry about that. We, uh, we’re usually over at my place, but I found a termite infestation in my house, and it’s being tented right now, and I’m stuck over at my brother’s place, and…I don’t know why I’m tellin’ a complete stranger all my business, but. Anyway, we’re usually over at mine. I’m sorry for the, uh, ruckus,” He rambles, burying his largelargelarge hands into his jean pockets and rocking on his heels. “We’ll be back at mine next time, so. Won’t happen again.”
You nod, only half hearing what he’s rambling about as your concentration is taken out at the knees the more you hear him speak, the more his voice washes over you like a cool splash of water, the more your brain sees fit to supply you with a plethora of disgusting things that voice could divulge to you that you didn’t conjure up last night, this time with his voice in crystal clear high definition and not muffled by anything other than possibly your hair or your skin or your lips on his mouth. 
The throbbing between your thighs has your confidence climbing, elevated by your attraction to this complete stranger as he’d referred to you. “Sure sounded like you gave her a good time in there.” 
“I-I don’t know about all that,” He laughs awkwardly again, the blush bleeding down his neck. 
“I mean, she sure had a lot to say about, uh, what you had to offer,” You babble, feeling your cheeks heat up, but unable to shut yourself up. “Sounds like she was struggling a bit.”
The man’s eyes dodge yours with a fervent dedication, flustering his words as he excuses the accusations. “Nah, she uh…she…she was just talkin' up my ego. You know how it is,” He stammers. 
“I don’t know, must be a pretty good actress from what I heard. I’ve never been able to fake it that hard. Sounded pretty real to me…Joel, is it? Did I hear that right?”
“Damn, I, uh, yeah. Yes. Joel. Miller,” He introduces himself stiltedly, holding out a hand and then staring at it like he’s shouting in his head, what the fuck are you doing?
You take his hand for a single shake, gifting him your own name in return. His handshake, though short, is sturdy, mildly calloused against the back of your palm, like he works with his hands. As your mind digs its claws into you with ideas of what exactly he could do with those hands, they fall away from each other, and you occupy the absence by gripping the frame of your doorway. 
“Well, uh, it was nice meetin’ you. I-I promise we won’t disturb your peace again,” He says with a resolute nod. 
“No biggie,” You reply, doing your best to sound casual and, if you’re honest, not discourage him from putting on another show for you to get off to. 
He gives one more jerky nod and heads for the elevator, rubbing his flushed neck as he goes. You grab your package and scurry into your apartment, shutting the door firmly behind you and drooping back against it. 
Stupid stupid stupid.
Hot hot hot.
Fuck.
That evening, the solution to your growing problem seems relatively obvious as you mull over your actions from last night and this morning. Your need to have the shit fucked out of you is reaching a fever pitch, and the easiest, most logical conclusion is to dust off the dating apps burning a hole through your phone. 
So you settle in against your pillows with a large glass of rosé and open up an app. 
You won’t lie, things are looking pretty bleak. 
You must swipe past thirty mediocre men, only doling out one or two right-swipes among the lefts. 
And then you feel your stomach swoop. 
You know that face. Time could jettison you forward forty years into the future and you would still know that face. The way it blossomed with red at your comments, the way thick fingers scratched at the scruff adorning it, the way the lines by his eyes crinkled in bashfulness. 
And then there’s his name, locking your suspicions in concrete. 
Joel. Age 48. 7 Miles away. 
Bio: Just a simple guy, looking for fun, but we’ll see how things go.
You scroll through his photos, a random selection of snippets from his life. One with a beer in his hand at the beach, his toes in the sand. Another with his face shaded by a ball cap, squinting at the photographer to his left as he sits with a fishing pole cast into a lake. His arm around a man roughly the same height and age range, some shared facial features, matching smiles–a brother, maybe. A suggestive selfie in his bed, sheets tucked below his pecs, eyes bleary with sleep accompanied by a soft smile and messy curls. 
Easiest swipe right of your life. 
Another pang alights in your stomach when you’re instantly met with the little “matching” animation, clinking your two profile pictures together with a heart. 
Your tongue darts across your lips as you sit up straighter, wine sloshing in your glass until you steady it with another sip. Your standard protocol is to wait for the guy to message first, but your eagerness gets the better of you. You don’t even wait a few minutes to be coy, you just go full-send.
You: Fancy seeing you on here…
Fully expecting to wait a minute for a response, you take a deep breath and burrow into your pillows again. But you get a notification almost instantly. 
Joel: I was thinking the same thing… Joel: Feels somethin like kismet, or whatever they call it
A smile breaks against your cheeks, and you bite into your knuckle to stop yourself from just straight-up squealing. 
You: They do call it that, from what I hear 🤭
This time he doesn’t respond immediately, and your teeth begin to tug at your lower lip as you watch the stagnant chat thread. 
And then a possible reality smacks you in the face. 
What if this man is taken? What if your neighbor is his girlfriend and he’s still creeping for girls on dating apps?
The fluttering in your stomach starts to take a sour turn, worrying your lip further as you await his reply. What if they’re together right now, and he can only respond when she’s distracted?
Another message pops up.
Joel: A little like kismet that we met in the hallway i’d say too. Same place, same time and all
You take a breath and decide to just cut through the bullshit as early as possible before your thoughts truly run away from you.
You: Speaking of. I’m gonna be honest. If that’s your girlfriend that lives next to me, I’m gonna have to enact Girl Code and let her know I saw you on here. Because that shit is not cool. 
You send it before you can talk yourself out of it, and close out of the app as soon as it’s out of your hands. You down what remains of your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand, but your attention springs back to your phone as it buzzes again. You brace yourself for his panic or defense and open the message. 
Joel: lol well you can put down your pitchfork and reshelve the sacred “Girl Code”. Trish and I are strictly casual. By her own insistence matter a fact. You can ask her if you don’t believe me
You sigh a breath of relief and tap out a response.
You: Really?  You: Guess I just have a hard time believing that any woman could turn down that face
He responds immediately again.
Joel: Well now you got me blushin again. Thank you darlin
You: At least I can rule you out as “stupid enough to cheat on your gf by trolling dating apps with your full face on display”
Joel: Haha no ma’am. I’m an honest man. Only cheat at Go Fish and Yahtzee and it’s been an age since I cast my hand at either. 
You: Well now I know what to watch out for 😜
You stretch your legs out under your sheets, feeling giddy that the banter is coming so easily after your awkward conversation earlier today. 
You: How’s the whole tenting situation going?
Joel: Got back in this morning. House successfully fumigated. Termite threat hopefully neutralized. Fingers crossed. 
You: Lucky Trish
You nibble on the side of your thumb as you wistfully beg him to take the bait. 
He does. 
Joel: Could be your luck too… Joel: If you want
You suddenly very much regret consuming half a bottle of rosé. 
You could invite him over here, but that would be especially cruel. Unequivocally against Girl Code to fuck the man you literally met because your neighbor is also fucking him in the apartment next to you, in the apartment next to her the very next night. That’s some twisted, reverse Uno shit, and you have no desire to tempt fate or karma with that nonsense.
You: Unfortunately I’m a little intoxicated right now. And I don’t want to invoke the wrath of an otherwise peaceful neighbor by stealing her fuck buddy from right under her nose and then rubbing said nose in it by making her listen lol
At severe risk of coming off as uninterested, you quickly follow up.
You: Maybe tomorrow? I’m free all day. Would love to see what all the fuss was about last night.
He surprises you, his next response coming in the form of a short voice memo. You practically tangle your fingers into knots in your effort to smash Play.
That dripping, syrupy Southern drawl echoes out of your phone speaker. 
“That’s a real shame, darlin’. But I’m free all day too. I’d love to show you…what was it you said? What I ‘have to offer’?” 
The message cuts off just after a delicious little chuckle, and you stare daggers at your wine glass. Fucking bullshit little cockblocker. 
You decide it’s only fitting to respond with a memo of your own, dipping your voice a little lower, more sultry to the best of your ability. 
“I think I’d love that. I could come over at noon. You could have me for lunch.”
Before you can second-guess, the memo slips from your fingers and straight to Joel’s phone.
Joel: Damn. Joel: I’ll put on my bib. Got a feeling i’m gonna need it. 
Your cheeks heat at the insinuation, and you sneak a hand underneath your panties to assess whether he’s right. 
And, fuck, he is. You’re practically swimming in your own arousal at the mere thought of Joel being a live outlet for your pent-up sexual energy. You moan as your fingers graze your clit, but you pull them out before you lose yourself too much. 
In a display of what you can only describe as bravery on your part, you aim your camera at your two soaked fingers, spreading them slowly until your slick is webbed thickly between them, translucent and alluring. Before the viscous threads break, you focus the frame and snap the photo. Caution to the wind once more, you send it off to Joel. 
No more than a minute later, another voice memo pops up for your listening pleasure.
His voice sounds significantly more wrecked this time. 
“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl. Better save some of that for me. By the time I get my mouth on you, I’m gonna be fuckin’ famished .”
You toy with your wet fingers, only pausing a moment before slipping them between your lips and sucking off the evidence of your attraction, moaning into your empty room at the heady taste, knowing Joel will be drinking it right from the source tomorrow. 
You start another voice memo. 
“Lucky for you, I just did some quality assurance on your meal for tomorrow. A little taste test. I think it’ll meet your expectations. Maybe even exceed them.”
Joel responds quickly with his own memo, the message starting with a groaning sigh that is quite possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard until you hear what he has to say next. 
“Shit, babygirl. So proud of you, bein’ so thorough for me.”
You swear you can feel the serotonin flooding your brain at his praise, only increased when he sends a short follow-up memo.
“Such a good girl for daddy.”
A shot of arousal pulses through your cunt at that word and you feel like this shit is too good to be true. At the risk of saying something stupid, you opt to just send a no-frills text back. 
You: Fuck.
You already feel like you can just hear that decadent, dirty little chuckle from that first voice memo in response to your message.
Joel: Night, babygirl. See you at noon.
A text with his address tags along after. You paste it into your GPS app. Seven miles away.
You laugh, almost incredulously, to yourself. 
Fucking kismet.
It takes you mere minutes to get yourself off after. 
Once the haze has lifted, you’re on your wobbly feet, planning your outfit for Joel to take off tomorrow. 
—-
The summer breeze fiddles with the hem of your skirt, probably too short to be wearing in any kind of windy weather, but you know what you’re about today. High hemlines, low necklines, a necklace with a tiny charm positioned at the crest of your cleavage to draw the eye, just in case he’s not the red-blooded straight American male you’ve tapped him to be. 
You fidget with your dress as you make your way up Joel’s driveway, cross-checking the address number in the text with the one on the front of his house in tarnished gold numerical plates. When you’re confident you’re in the right place, you step up onto the porch, taking a deep breath before knocking on the front door. 
The varnished wood creaks open moments later, revealing Joel in all his scruffy, broad glory. He’s in a basic white tee, jeans, and thick socks, and that shit has never looked so tantalizing to you, biceps straining the elastic on his tight shirt sleeves. 
“Hi there,” He drawls, taking you in from head to foot and back again. You smile, doing your best to swallow the catastrophic levels of animal attraction you feel to this man just from the first glance.
He holds the door open for you and you step inside. Your first thoughts are that the home is cozy. Lived in. Picture frames on the walls of people you don’t recognize save for the ones featuring the owner of the home. A living room shooting off from the foyer with appropriately dingy couches and throw blankets strewn across them. A carpeted wooden staircase in the entryway leading to the upper level and a hallway that’s a straight shot into the homey kitchen. 
It feels…like a home. But a home that has had more than one resident. You decide to delve into that at a later date. 
Joel clicks the door shut behind you as you slip off your sandals and he takes your hand in his, holding it out to get the full effect of you. He pipes out a wolfish whistle as he admires your dress, the drape of it over your body. 
“You are a picture, darlin’.”
“Thanks,” You mutter, fighting off the urge to succumb to your self-consciousness. “But if I’m a picture, you’re the whole fucking photo album.”
Joel tuts at you. “Don’t you start an argument about who’s the better lookin’ one of the two of us, ‘cause a bastard just might spend the rest of the day makin’ his case,” He counters with a crooked smile, petting the back of your hand with his thumb before placing a kiss to it. 
“What a gentleman,” You say, an airy affect to your voice helping to mask the catching of your breath in your throat at first the touch of his lips to your person. 
“Do what I can,” He chuckles, letting your hand fall, but linking a large pinky with yours as you meander down the hall. It feels strangely intimate, yet somehow settles the subtle shake in your fingers. 
“Your home is lovely. Very warm. Welcoming.”
“I like to think that’s mostly my charming demeanor,” He flirts, peeking over at you as you both enter the kitchen. “Get you a drink?”
“No, I’m okay,” You throw over your shoulder as your pinkies lose contact and you wander around the kitchen island. He leans back against the counter, arms loose across his chest as he tracks your movements around his space. That feels intimate too, the casual scrutiny. 
You run your hands over the clean counters, your curiosity peaking when you come across a hodge-podge of odds and ends scattered on the laminate. Screws, drillbits, drywall anchors, and a myriad of other bits and bobbles you don’t know the technical terms for. 
You nudge one of the screws and send it rolling towards the backsplash. “Handyman, huh?”
“Somethin’ like that,” He affirms, glancing down at his arms and then back up at you. “I’m a, uh, contractor. My brother and I, we run a ragtag little outfit. Oversee a handful of guys. Got work all over the valley.” 
“So good with your hands,” You nod with a flirtatious little smirk.  
Joel gives a small laugh. “Reckon so, I guess.”
“Work on anything exciting?”
He shrugs. “Here and there. Mostly just internal construction for new small businesses in the area. Sometimes homes, kitchen remodels, that kinda thing.”
“You build this one?”
“Actually didn’t. Just ‘cause I got the know-how don’t make it easier to get all the proper permits and land and shit to build my own. And was still raisin’ a kid on my lonesome at the time. Less hassle to just buy. Did do my brother Tommy’s place though. Let him handle all the bureaucratic shit.”
You hum in understanding. “He the guy in your profile photo?”
“The very same,” He confirms with a dip of his head. 
“Hmm,” You muse, the passive revelation he just dropped not at all lost on you. “A kid, huh? So, you’re, like, a proper DILF then.”
He chuckles, eyes downcast with a dash of that sheepishness. “Dunno about that. She’s long gone out the house by now.”
“How old?”
“Uh, she’ll be 29 come this December.”
“Oh. Damn.”
“What?”
“Older than me.”
His eyes pop. “Shit.”
You see a kind of cast fall over his face, like a cloud drifting its way past the sun, and you feel a twinge of guilt for digging that up. But something tells you there’s something about that concept he’s intrigued by, aroused by. He’s not blind, he knows you’re young. He knows how old his daughter is, what she looks like at her age. Maybe just didn’t quite put two and two together until you emphasized it. 
You saunter toward him, your teeth sliding against your lower lip as you rest your hands on the counter at either side of him, feeling the heat of his skin radiating on your own and intent on waving off the cloud over his expression to bring back that sun. 
“Good thing I like that sorta thing, I guess. Daddy…” You let that final world melt off your tongue as you look up at him, the solar flare in his eyes a perfect match for yours. 
Joel’s chest rises as he inhales, blowing it out in a measured stream through his lips and shaking his head at you as his hands navigate their way to your sides, curling into the thin, stretchy cotton of your dress. “Oh, you little devil. Don’t go teasin’ me with that. Can’t be held responsible for what I do with it.”
“What?” You tease, fingertips tracing the softness giving way to muscle beneath the flimsy material of his t-shirt. “You ashamed to be putting the moves onto someone younger than your kid?” 
Joel just shakes his head again, exhaling through his nose as it points to the floor. “Just makes me feel like a dirty old man.” 
“Mmm,” You croon, tucking a finger under his chin and coaxing him to look at you. “But you are a dirty old man. Desperate to slide into some young, hot pussy. For a pretty little thing to call you ‘daddy’ while you do it.”
“Fuck…” He rolls off his tongue as his eyes squeeze shut and his head droops back. 
“Does Trish call you daddy, too?”
Joel’s head plops back down, conflict warring on his features at the mention of your neighbor while you’re both tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge. “Shit, baby. You can’t—”
“Does she?”
He sighs, his pivoting pupils searching yours before answering, “No. She doesn’t.”
You pull a raspy little sound from your throat as you inch your face closer to his, but taking care that you can still study all of his wrinkles and micro-expressions. 
“But that’s what you want. Isn’t it,” You state with no room for argument. “You want me to call you my daddy. Let you fuck me while I whisper it in your ear. And fall apart on your cock with it on my lips, where your come will probably be soon after.” 
Your lips ghost over his, and you can see the shimmer in his brown irises, the sparkle of every last filthy thing he wants to subject you to for the good of his own pleasure. As you speak again, your lips brush against his, and you tilt your head back enough to capture his eyes. 
“Now, which set of lips that ends up being, I’ll leave up to you.”
The tension snaps like the bite of a rubber band, and you gasp in shock as Joel’s hand flies up to your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks until your mouth is in a pout. 
“Said you wanted to see if your neighbor was all talk, didn’t ya?”
He all but forces you to nod your head with his hand as you blink rapidly, him nodding along with you with his own head, almost mockingly so with you in his unyielding clutches. 
“Yeah? So how’s about you stop runnin’ that pretty mouth, get on your knees, and find out for yourself.”
He maintains his grip on your face as you lower obediently to your knees, your hands slipping down the panes of his body as you go, until they sit at his thighs and you’re sat on your heels with Joel leaning slightly over you to maintain his hold in the new position. 
“Good girl. Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.”
With him already pressing your cheeks together, your mouth pops open with little effort, your tongue following suit. You detect movement inside his mouth, and then he’s hovering over your face with a glint in his eyes. A thick strand of saliva drips from his mouth directly onto your waiting tongue. 
You let out a brief, open-mouthed whimper as the fluid hits your tastebuds, but stay put as his spit trickles to the back of your mouth. 
“How does daddy taste, babygirl? Good?”
You nod assuringly, the saliva pooling at the back of your throat. 
“Such a good girl. Now swallow for daddy.”
You do so eagerly, closing your mouth to swipe your tongue against the roof and push every drop down your throat, before opening back up for him in a display of subservience. 
Joel’s thumb tamps down on your tongue, stroking with minor pressure over the muscle with something like a proud smirk. “So obedient. Daddy likes that. ‘Specially when you were so mouthy a second ago.”
“I’m versatile,” You manage to enunciate with Joel manipulating your face to his liking. 
“Yes, you are,” Joel praises, eyes flitting back and forth between your mouth and your blown out pupils. Without any preface this time, he shoots another wad of spit directly to the back of your mouth, and you gulp it down with as much relish as the first. Joel exhales a laugh and descends on you, slotting his mouth against yours with a decadent moan, his tongue dragging against yours as if to say good job. 
You laugh into it a little bit, tangling your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck to hold him to you. He tastes fresh, like cold water and toothpaste and something else that seems to be uniquely Joel. 
His kiss is commanding. Domineering in a manner that’s almost passive, intuitive. He leads, you follow. You hear the jingling of a belt, and your lips already feel plump and debauched from his tongue and teeth. When he breaks apart from you, it’s to lay his forehead against yours, peering directly into the insatiable avarice that he’s provoked inside you in an unprecedented amount of time. 
You hear the grate of his zipper as he lures you in further with a teasing, “Now how’s about we see just what you can offer me .”
He pulls you in for one last tongue-caressing kiss, leaving you breathless as he props his elbows onto the counter to his back, an impressive bulge protruding within his boxer-briefs though the undone fly of his jeans. 
“Right here in your kitchen?”
“Right here in my goddamn kitchen. ‘S where we eat all our meals,” Joel informs with a shade of seriousness, reaching down to pinch your chin in his fingers and successfully enrapturing your attention. “You be a good girl and choke down what daddy gives ya. Then daddy’ll have his fill. Unpack that little lunchbox you brought just for him, spread you out over the counter so he can feast as he pleases. And then he’ll pack it right back up for you, ‘cause he knows how hungry you are, huh?”
You whine from your throat and nod, “Yes, daddy.”
“That’s daddy’s good girl,” He coos. “Now take it out. Tell daddy if it’s gonna fill you up as full as you thought.”
When your hands come up to curl around the band of his boxers there’s a swirling of anticipation in your belly. You draw the suspense out for yourself, keeping your eyes on Joel’s as you tug down, his shaft bobbing in your periphery. And fuck, even just at the edge of your vision, you can tell he is impressive. 
“Go on and look, babygirl. He’s all ready for ya.”
You indulge yourself then, drinking in the sight, the size of him. He’s thick, girth like you’ve never seen before on a normal person who doesn’t pull his cock out for cash. He’s long, too. Swathes of skin bulging with purple-blue veins over the rock-hard swell of him, culminating at a plump, dark red tip that’s already weeping for you. 
Your mouth is far ahead of you, saliva flooding from under your tongue to signal up to your brain, I’m so fucking ready. 
You subconsciously lick your lips, earning a fleeting laugh from Joel above you. “Whaddya think? Look like it’ll make a good snack ‘fore we get to the main course?”
There’s a severe lack of eloquence being crafted in your mind, forcibly being shoved out in favor of Joel. Big. Joel. Big. Lick. Taste. 
Before you can filter it out, you just blurt out, “Big.”
That makes Joel chime a laugh again. “Very astute. What a smart girl daddy’s got here.”
“You were being modest outside my apartment,” You point out with a smirk. “You’re proud of how big you are.”
“Lotta talkin’ goin’ on here, babygirl,” Joel chides, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock that somehow only serves to make him look larger. “That really what you wanna be doin’ right now?”
You shake your head and nudge his hand to replace it with yours, almost comically small around the thickness of him. Joel hums out a moan as you employ the dribble from his slit to slick down his cock. 
“Can I…spit on it?”
Joel’s chin drips down as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Can you? Baby, you think you gotta ask?”
You make a shallow shrugging motion as you pull at his cock with your fist. “Just trying to be a good girl.”
“Well, ‘f you ask me,” Joel replies, his voice crawling a little deeper in tone as you continue to stroke him, “a good girl always spits, then swallows.”
“Yeah?” You ask, your own voice verging on coyish innocence. 
“Yeah,” Joel rasps, an edge of authority infused into the word in response to the naïveté in yours. It stirs something in your belly, something that preens and purrs and waits not-so-patiently for more of that dictatorial timbre—and maybe a firm hand to go along with it.  
You find yourself yearning for the strong, steady press of his fingers against your cheeks again.  
Not wanting to taint that “good girl” status as laid out by Joel, you accumulate the saliva in your mouth as you poise his length at your lips, and then round them to expel a healthy dose of spit onto the head. 
Joel moans again, petting a hand over your hair as you work the lubrication down his cock. “Mmm, hand looks mighty small ‘round that big cock, don’t it?”
“Yeah,” You breathe, your speed increasing with the enhanced wetness. Your fingertips don’t touch, and that knowledge has your pussy tingling under your dress. There’s just so much of him. 
Noises continue to spawn from Joel’s mouth as you pump him, twisting around the head and enthralling yourself with the precome spilling from his tip. 
“Put your mouth on it, baby,” He directs, a hint of that dominance injected into the command, which you take as an indicator that he’s done with teasing, he wants to fuck something. 
Fortunately, your mouth is more than willing, saliva still pooling in anticipation. You stroke him at the base as you stick out your tongue, giving him broad licks up the underside of the head and dipping into the slit. The groan Joel emits spurs you on, encasing the tip in your mouth and sucking. 
“Fuck me, babygirl. So fuckin’ good. Take it deeper.”
You moan around him as you loosen your jaw and dive down onto him until he nudges at the back of your throat. The tickle has an eye-watering cough vibrating around him, but you tuck your lips over your teeth and fight through your gag reflex. 
The length you still have left to take has you whimpering as you bob on him, keeping him buried toward the back until you have to release and gasp in a large breath. 
“Little too big for you, darlin’?” He remarks with a tilted smile, his thumb running over your damp cheek. 
You vehemently shake your head, taking him in again as you stroke what you can’t suck. 
Joel groans loudly, tossing his head back as his cock drags along the back of you. His fingers grip your hair as his head falls back down, his lips glistening. “Gimme that tight little throat, babygirl. Can you do that? You ever deepthroated a big cock before?”
You whine and let him slip out of you, dripping with saliva and making up for your absence with quick, long strokes. “Not as big as you, daddy. Not even close.”
“Just let me do the tip then, babygirl. I know it’s big, but you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Y’can take it. I won’t go too deep.”
You nod, mumbling against the reddened tip, “I can do that.”
“Good girl,” He praises, nudging at the back of your head until he’s as far as you can take him without actually entering your throat. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes as you gaze up at him, and him down at you. “Just let it in. Deep breath through your nose and let daddy take your throat,” He soothes, flexing his hand in your hair. 
He watches as you inhale, and then rocks his hips forward, stretching your throat open around the head of him. You choke out a whine and Joel shivers at the friction of it, white-knuckling the counter at his back with his free hand as his eyes clench shut. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby. That’s— fuck.”
He pulls you free to inhale more precious air, an expression of lust and admiration on his face as he takes in your debauched features. “So good. Doin’ so good for me. Let daddy in again.”
You suck in another breath and sink down on him, your clit beating between your legs as he breaches the tip of his cock into your throat again. It makes your brain go misty, struggling to inhale through your nose. You’ve never felt something stretch your throat like this, but it’s intoxicating. You’ve been choked before and found pleasure in that, but this is different. A complete obstruction of your airway, just for the sake of proving your sluttiness to a near-stranger. 
“God, so fuckin’ tight for me. Such a tight fuckin’ girl for daddy,” He forces out through gritted teeth, gently rolling his hips to fuck your throat with his tip. Your throat constricts as you stave off your reflexes, and you know he feels it because the man goddamn whimpers. 
He rips you off of him by the back of your head, panting as he rakes his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Fuckin’ Jesus. ‘Bout to bust my goddamn load, darlin’. Shit.”
Warmth blossoms in your stomach at potentially being this gorgeous man’s undoing. You watch his chest rise and fall as he reigns in his orgasm, his cock bobbing up and down, the purpling tip seeping with precome and cascading with your spit. 
You automatically lean back in and place a tiny kiss to his slit, giggling at the resultant undulation of his stomach under his shirt. Joel breathes out a laugh of his own and holds a hand out for you. 
“Come on. ‘S my turn.” 
A little dazed, you take his hand and let him haul you up off your smarting knees, pulling you right into his chest. 
“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” He mutters as he captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth with fervor. You collapse into it, sighing into his mouth as his tongue mingles with yours, not a care in the world about the presence of his own fluids coating your tastebuds. 
You relinquish your hold on his lips, the bottom one sliding through your teeth, and mutter against him with a grin, “This is fun.”
He laughs lightly, stroking a thumb along your jaw. “Yeah? You havin’ a good time?”
“Mhmm.”
“Haven't even served the appetizer yet,” He mumbles, squeezing at your hips. “Hop up on the counter.”
He maneuvers you back and helps lift you up on the kitchen island, his hands gliding over the tops of your thighs once you’re seated. 
“Been thinkin’ about this pussy since I met you in the hallway,” He shares, heat in his eyes as he looks up at you from your acquired high ground. 
“Really? Slipping out of one woman’s bed just to pop a boner over another one’s pussy ten seconds later? Such a slut, Joel Miller,” You chastise, leaning back on your hands and parting your legs wider. 
“Well, as you can attest to now, there’s plenty of me to go around,” He justifies with a little wink, before craning his head to whisper against your ear, “She’s never deethroated me like that neither. So what does that make you, babygirl?”
“Hmm,” You hum, pretending to actually ponder his words as he kisses along your neck. “Good at what I do?”
He snorts, nipping at your jaw, “‘S a nice way of puttin’ it. I’d’ve just called you a goddamn slut right back.”
“Mmm. Kismet, huh?” You banter back, your fingers curling against the countertop at the charged sensation of his breath over your skin. 
Joel grins against your cheek, his hands slowly shifting up your dress. “Fuckin’ kismet.”
His fingers journey up higher, higher, until they hit the crease of your thigh…and he stops. 
“Fuck. You’re definitely a little slut. Showin’ up to a stranger’s house with no panties?” He emphasizes his words by dipping a finger between your soaking wet folds, drawing a shiver from you. 
“W-waste of time,” You stutter out, subtly rolling your hips down onto his finger. “Already knew what was gonna h-happen. Where they’d end up.”
“I’ll say,” He agrees, his finger disappearing from your center as it drags wetly back up your inner thigh with the rest of his fingers, gripping your thighs with both hands. “Already drippin’ off my fingers.”
He parts your legs with something akin to reverence, and when you’re spread out for him, fully on display, he groans as his forehead drops down onto your thigh. 
“God, look at that. So fuckin’ juicy for me and I ain’t barely touched you yet. You really like chokin’ on my dick that much? Make you all drippy and desperate for your daddy?”
“Yeah,” You whimper, feeling your hole clench at his words. 
“Perfect,” He sighs out, pressing up on the back of your thighs. “Feet on the counter, darlin’. Lie back.”
“But this is your kitchen counter —”
“I know what it is. What, you think a man don’t got bleach in the house? Now lie back.”
“I don't think you’re supposed to use bl—oh, fuck.”
Joel puffs out a devilish laugh into your clit as he swirls the tip of his tongue around it in dizzying circles. 
“Shit, god,” You exhale, feeling a full-body shiver roll through you this time as you dance on the balls of your feet against the counter. “Ok, I’ll shut up now.”
“Don’t shut up,” He mumbles, unlatching for just a moment. “Wanna hear exactly what I do to you,” He adds with a mischievous lilt to his voice before sucking your clit back into his mouth. 
“Yeah, okay. Fuck,” You sigh out, your hand blindly searching between your legs until it locates Joel’s head and grabs. Joel moans into your pussy, pulling a gasp from you in return as it pulses through your clit. 
Joel’s fingernails dig into the meat of your thigh as he brings two fingers to tease down the folds of your cunt and prod experimentally at your entrance.
“Fuck, yes, please put them in, daddy,” You whine, hips seeking to suck them inside you and making Joel breathe out a laugh again. 
“I got you, babygirl. You just lie back and let daddy make you feel good.” 
You pick your head up from the counter, seeing the twinkle in his eye and the top of his head adorned with your fingers in his hair, and you feel your face collapsing in pleasure as he slips his fingers inside you while holding your gaze. You drop your head back on the counter a little harder than you should, and if your cunt wasn’t clamping down around his fingers right now and your clit bearing the hot, broad brunt of his tongue, you might care more. But the soft throb at the back of your skull syncs up flawlessly with the thrust of him pushing your walls open, and it just works. 
You lose yourself in the slip of his tongue over your sensitive nub, your slick folds, the trace of him around where you’re stretched open around his fingers, sucking kisses at your stuffed entrance. It’s disorientingly hazy in your mind, the reality of it all. You just met this man, know next to nothing about him, whether he’s a liar or just a single father with a heart of gold and a dick of divine proportions. 
But Joel crooks his fingers just right as he fucks into you and you don’t fucking care about any of that. Just care about the press of him against your most sensitive spot, how you’re fucking screaming “daddy” for him and bucking your hips against his face. 
He hooks his free arm around your thigh to hold you in place, and you glance up to see pure, unadulterated hunger in his eyes as he devours you. You catch glimpses of his mustache webbed and glistening with your slick as his mouth works you over. 
The passion, the intensity in his gaze has the pleasure in your belly spinning and swirling, and you know that he knows it. 
“Daddy, I-I’m—”
He doesn’t even lift his mouth from your quickly spiraling pussy, he just fixes you with a look and nods. 
Your fingers yank at his hair as your back arches against the laminate, feet bowing up on your tiptoes, a thousand and one words flooding your brain that you could say, if only your vocal cords were operational at this exact moment. You just see a flash of white across your vision, eek out the tiniest squeak, and feel yourself transcend for a few blissful moments. 
Joel growls against your pussy, fucking you through your release with abandon until your body all but disintigrates against the countertop, your clit still pounding like a drum against Joel’s voracious lips. 
He drifts off you and flops his sweaty curls against your leg as you hear him laughing a little, panting a lot. 
“Oh my god,” are the first words you’re able to string together in the aftermath. Joel chuckles against your thigh, tonguing kisses up your skin and nuzzling his nose into the crease of your thigh and pussy. 
“Could fuckin’ live right here,” He muses, placing a delicate kiss on your outer lips. 
“I wouldn’t complain,” You sigh, muscling yourself up onto your forearms to admire the pussy-eating-glow Joel has in spades on his face. 
He holds his two slicked fingers up in the air and beckons your forward with them. You heed his call, pushing yourself up until you’re sitting up, albeit rather unsteadily. Without a word, he brings them to your lips, and you open. It’s so fucking easy to open yourself up for him, you’re learning. He studies your lips as you suck yourself off of him, substantially more coated in your wetness than when you sent him that filthy picture last night. And just for a little fun, you swirl your tongue around the tips of them, in between them, just to see his eyes glaze over a bit. 
He slips his fingers free and cups the back of your neck, eyes still preoccupied with the shape of your mouth. “Bring those lips over here, babygirl.”
You indulge him, indulge yourself, and revel in the press of his plump lips against yours again. His mouth moves so silkily with yours, an expert at drawing out the tension of these in-between overtures, sucking the taste of you right off your own tongue.  
Resting your forehead against his, you whisper, “Can I tell you a secret?”
His eyes close as he nods, “Mhmm…”
“The other night…when I was listening…”
He pops one eye open in curiosity. “Mmm?”
Your teeth toy with your lip before you reveal to him, “I came. To the sound of your voice. The sound of you coming.”
His eyes fall closed again with a broad grin. “Goddamn. Do I got a little voyeur on my hands?” He asks, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing as his mouth finds your neck again, gradually winding you back up. 
“Not intentionally,” You sigh out, your head lulling to the side with the drag of his lips. “Just couldn’t get over how sexy your voice was, even when I could barely hear your words. Just the tone of it.”
“Well, I’ll talk all you want me to, babygirl.”
“Good.”
He hums into you, flexing a hand at your hip. “I would really like to fuck you now. ‘F you’ll let me.”
“Hmm, let me think about that…” You tease, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck to pull him in and taste him again. 
“Bedroom,” He mouths against your lips, helping to lift you off the counter and back onto your feet. 
“Yeah,” You agree, letting him tug you along behind you up the stairs. 
Your dress is on the floor in record time, your tits falling free of their confines when your bra follows, and Joel is shrugging his shirt off his shoulders when he herds you onto his bed, straddling you at the shoulders and waist. 
“Look at these goddamn tits, baby. Where you been hidin’ these all this time?” He groans, burying his face in them and sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth. 
“Th-th-think we were a little busy, don’t you?” 
“Never too busy for tits like these,” He asserts as he trades sides, the bud popping from his mouth plumped and shiny. 
You allow yourself to get lost in the sensation of his mouth on your breasts, his tongue and teeth stimulating your nipples, his hands groping the flesh of them. His exposed cock grinds against your thigh, leaving streaks of precome in its wake. 
“How do you want daddy to fuck you, babygirl?” He asks, kissing his way up your chest. 
You push through the haze of pleasure in your head, second-guessing what you’d already decided to say when you’d both arrived at this moment. “You’re gonna think I’m weird.”
Joel studies your face with a faint smile. “Maybe. Try me.”
After a brief silence, you decide to throw caution to the wind. Just ask for what you want. He can tell you to fuck off if it creeps him out. 
“Fuck me like you fucked her.” 
A flash of devilishness sparks in his eye, his smile burgeoning as he considers your words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Wanna see how much my imagination got right.”
You see his tongue prodding at his inner cheek as he processes, eyes not straying from yours. Only growing more ravenous. “Okay,” He finally agrees, giving you a small nod. “Hands and knees, babygirl.”
Joel pushes off the bed, wriggling himself out of his lingering clothes as you eagerly get in position, peeking over your shoulder to get a nice view of this gorgeous specimen getting naked for you. Joel spies the attention quickly with you not exactly striving for subtlety, and he winks at you as he strips off his boxers. 
And something about that small gesture sets off the butterflies in your stomach. Which is all well and good, you suppose, granted that given Joel’s size, they were destined to be disrupted rather imminently anyway. 
Joel settles in behind you on his knees, his hands naturally gravitating to the curve of your hips as his cock bobs obscenely in the space between your bodies. He pushes and pulls at the flesh of your ass, parting it in front of him to reveal yourself to him from a different angle this time. The muted fuck he breathes out at the sight ruffles those wings in your belly again. 
His middle finger slips down the center of your ass, gliding over the pucker of your asshole and descending toward your soaked opening, and your eyelids shutter closed with a sigh. 
When he speaks again, it’s softer than it has been. Like the reverence that manifested when he spread your legs on the counter has found its way back to him. 
“Now, I fucked her with a condom. You want me to use a condom?”
You swallow and exhale through your nose. “We should.”
“Yes we should,” He echoes, and his finger pushes into you with ease.
“Don’t.”
His finger freezes. “Don’t?”
“No, not—” You try to clarify, huffing a breath out through your mouth this time. “Don’t use one. Fuck me bare. I’m clean. And on birth control. You’re…you’re clean, right?”
Joel’s finger starts to move again, but slowly, fucking into you at a glacially agonizing pace that has your breath hitching in your chest, building that heat in your core once again while barely even trying. 
“I’ve been clean since the last time I fucked someone bare. But I don’t know about after. You okay with that?”
You sigh, “This is fucking stupid right? We shouldn’t.”
Joel nods behind you, quietly slipping in a second finger along with the first and evoking a near-undetectable moan from you, while he commiserates your own sentiments once more. 
“It is stupid. And we shouldn’t.”
“God,” You moan, floating your head back onto your shoulders as you gradually rock your hips back to meet the maddening thrusts of his fingers. “Just…fucking do it.”
Joel’s fingers still inside you once more, shoved in all the way up to the webbing between them, as he bends over you, cupping your hip in his other hand and ghosting his lips over your ear. “I need you to be real sure, darlin’. ‘Cause once I start, once I feel this perfect pussy wrapped around my naked cock, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”
Joel twists and curls his fingers inside you, and your toes curl along with it as you gasp at the press of them against your sweetest spot. You swallow thickly again and affirm, “I’m sure that I wanna feel your bare cock inside me.”
Joel’s forehead makes a home between your shoulder blades, moaning as he places a kiss where his lips land on your spine, and grinding out a wrecked and reedy, “Fuck. Alright. Then daddy’ll fuck this cunt raw.”
You whimper as Joel’s fingertips massage at that spot inside you, his other hand coming around to circle your clit, all pretense of dragging out your pleasure abandoned. 
“But I need to feel you come around my fingers again first, babygirl. Be a good girl for daddy.”
You’re embarrassingly close already, vestiges of your activities downstairs culminating with the torturous tease of his fingers winding you up for the last several minutes, and now the sweet, slippery, calloused drag of his skilled touch rubbing at your clit. All in all, it takes him less than thirty more seconds before you’re tiptoeing the edge. 
“I-I’m—” The words don’t even have the opportunity to claw their way out of your mouth before you’re shattering on him for the second time this afternoon, pulsing around his fingers in a silent scream as he mutters the sweetest encouragements into your skin. 
His hand is wet when he uses it to stroke down your side, squeezing and smacking your ass lightly as your legs tremble under you and you float back down to earth. 
“That’s a good girl. All soaked and ready for my cock now, huh?”
As your brain cells continue relearning how to assemble words, you just nod, muttering some mottled version of yeah that sounds alien even to your own ears. But the incoherency makes him laugh, which makes you smile, and it helps ground you. 
Joel takes his cock in hand and slicks it up with the wetness clinging to your folds, your stomach seizing when he grazes your sensitive clit. It sits between your lips as Joel leans over, rifling through his side table and coming up with a small bottle of lube. 
When you protest slightly, he insists, “Just wanna make this feel as good as fuckin’ possible for you, baby. I know you’re already drenched. But you’ve seen how big daddy is. Need all the help we can get.”
He’s liberal with the lubrication, anointing your hole and his cock and lining himself up. And at the first light press, his size feels insurmountable. Skin stretching, pulling apart in every direction as his head makes room for itself. You whimper into the side of your arm, biting into the flesh as the pain flares. 
“I know, baby,” He coos in your ear, his inching forward more akin to centimeters as he takes his time entering you. “Daddy’s real big, huh? Too much for this tight little pussy?”
“It’s just so…” Your words trail off in a moan as he slips further inside, almost fully seated within your walls. “God, it’s so fucking big.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Fuck no,” You gasp out, your hand reaching out to dig your nails into his hip to prevent him from retreating. 
“Mmm,” He moans, sucking your lobe into his mouth and tugging with his teeth as he bottoms out inside you, feeling you clench around him as he brushes your cervix. “Knew you could take it all. Slutty little thing.”
“F-feels like I’m splitting in half,” You let out shakily, your fingers trembling where they indent his hip. 
“Well,” Joel grunts out as he withdraws to the tip and pauses to whisper in your ear, “I guess good ol’ Trish was right,” and then slams the full length of him back into you again. 
The scream you release grates against your vocal cords, has your fingernails threatening to pierce through the cotton of his duvet, has your knees sliding further apart on the bed, dropping your ass down. Firm hands dig into your hips and haul you back up just in time for Joel to fuck into you again. And again. And again. Until the rhythmic slapping together of your skin perpetuates the illusion in your mind that it’s failing to keep tempo with the sound of it reverberating off his bedroom walls. Or maybe your hearing is just failing you in favor of zeroing in on the stretch of Joel’s cock inside of you. 
That must be it, because you don’t even realize that you’re still screaming, still shouting obscenities about his size, his pace, just him, until you register Joel in your ear, growling at you, “Yeah, let me fuckin’ hear it baby. Let me hear how you take it. How big is daddy’s cock inside you, babygirl? ‘S’it as big as you wanted?”
He must categorize your half-intelligible slurs of, “Yes, fuck, so fucking big, daddy please ,” as plenty satisfactory, because he just keeps going. One of his hands buries itself into the hair at your scalp and pulls, yanking your head up until your view shifts from pillows and sheets to stark white ceiling. A grunt pushes its way past your throat as the arch of your neck compresses your skin against your throat and Joel bottoms out inside you again, grazing the end of you in the most glorious, transcendent fashion. 
“Shame there’s not someone in the next room over hearin’ what I’m doin’ to you, ain’t it?” Joel coos in your ear again, his thrusts going more liquid, like honey drizzling off its dipper into the jar. He slides languidly inside you to the hilt, dragging out with the suction of sweet molasses luring him back in. It devastates you in an entirely new way, has you hanging off his words with blanching fingertips. “Though, I’d wager you’re screamin’ loud enough to perk up some ears in the houses down the street.”
You moan at the thought, at the notion of people hearing Joel destroy you just like you overheard him doing to your neighbor. Right now, you couldn’t give a shit if the entire world knew how good this man is making you feel. Your friends, your family, the goddamn Pope for all you care. Just as long as he keeps fucking you like this. 
You are absolutely, without a sliver of a doubt, irrefutably positive that you have never felt this full. Despite Trish’s own words, god bless her, you never could have prepared yourself for the battering ram that is Joel’s cock ravishing your cunt. In your experience, dicks of any size can be fulfilling; dicks of any size can be unfulfilling. But heaven help you, Joel has the length, the girth, and the motion down pat. Throw on top the scintillating monologue of filth spilling into your ear like the sweetest poison, and goddamn it, this man could have you professing your love for him within the hour.
“Love this fuckin’ pussy, baby. So goddamn tight around me. Tell me how it feels,” He growls through his teeth as he steps up his pace again, your head jostling with the thrusting of his hips and the strands of your hair stinging at the back of your skull. 
“So perfect. So fucking perfect. Love your cock, daddy,” You sob, your hair slipping through Joel’s fingers and your head falling forward as he releases his grip, instead wrapping his hand at the slope of your shoulder into your neck to pull you backward into his pistoning hips. 
“‘S it big? ‘S it as big as you wanted when you heard me fuckin’ someone else with it?”
“Yes, daddy! So big. Bigger than I ever could’ve—oh god ,” You cut yourself off as Joel hits you so fucking right inside, and suddenly words aren’t so doable anymore. 
And for the first time in your life, you think a man is going to make you come three times in a single day. Hell, in an hour. A man you just fucking met, a man who 48 hours ago was nothing more than a velvety hum and a few dirty words on the other side of your wall. And now he’s made a space for himself inside your body, coaxing orgasms out of you as easily as he had you calling him “daddy”. 
“Daddy, I’m-I’m gonna fucking come again,” You whine, and Joel is already sliding the hand on your hip in between your legs, circling your throbbing clit with his fingers.
“Little cunt is putty in my fuckin’ hands, huh, babygirl? Don’t matter what I give you–my mouth, my fingers, my cock–just a thirsty little bitch for any piece of me you can get. Come on, come for me again, darlin’. Come for your daddy. All over his big fuckin’ cock.”
With that, your eyes roll back as your pussy spasms around his hard length, your body convulsing as his fingers tease out your release from you. The pummelling of his dick inside your cunt, the magic of his touch on your sensitive clit has your orgasm seeming to float through every vein in your body, not stopping until it’s fried every one of your nerve endings in the process.
“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s–god, pussy feels too fuckin’ good,” He grits out, fingers and cock still doing their due diligence to draw out your pleasure as long as possible. “Tell me to come in this fuckin’ cunt.”
You whimper, nodding your head rapidly as your high finally starts to fizzle out and the pounding of his dick increases in intensity as he approaches his own climax.
“Uh-uh, I need to hear it, babygirl. Tell me to come in this stretched-out little cunt,” He grunts out, his voice going a little breathy as he struggles to stem his release. 
“P-please, daddy! Please come in my little pussy, fucking need it so bad,” You sputter out, using what energy you have left to throw yourself back onto his cock. 
Joel groans deep from his chest as his hips snap forward once, twice more before he’s shooting his load inside your already dripping, waiting cunt. Joel’s mouth descends on your shoulder, his teeth burrowing into the skin as his cock pulses. 
Your racing heart begins to slow as the moments pass, Joel’s mouth unearthing from the craters excavated in your flesh, sucking lazy, soothing kisses to the impressions. You hum at the calming slide of his mouth, his cock softening but staying put right where you’re convinced it belongs for the rest of the day.
You let out a little squeak when Joel nips playfully at your shoulder, knocking your head against Joel’s as you mutter with a lighthearted grin, “Eat your heart out, Trish.”
Joel breathes out a laugh, capturing your lips in a lazy, sloppy kiss. Strong hands wind around your waist and pull you back against him, Joel sitting on his heels with his length still buried inside you and your heads craning to savor the afterglow.
“You’re somethin’ else,” He mumbles into your mouth, hand sneaking up to squeeze at your tit.
“As long as I’m something,” You tease back, intertwining your fingers with his over your breast.
“I’d really like to do this again.”
“I would too.”
“Might not even have to take my cock out of this glorious little pussy in the meantime.”
You laugh a little, nestling your forehead into the curve of his neck. “I meant more like…I’d like to do this whole thing again. In the future.”
He tilts his head toward you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Joel affirms his hold on you and plants a kiss on your head. “I like the sound of that too.”
You stay there, secure in his arms, his spend pooling where he’s lodged inside you. You gradually feel him harden once more and you fall onto your back, letting him unravel you all over again on his cock. Taking you a little slower this time, a little longer, fucking his come back into you with each heavy stroke and smearing it over his shaft, into the tufts of hair at his base, dripping down his balls. And after he brings you to orgasm a toe-curling, limb-tingling fourth time, he makes you tell him again. Tell him to spill himself into your body, fill you up with more than just his paralyzing length. And this time he spreads open your thighs, watches as you push it out of your ravaged hole onto his disheveled bedding, and showers you with praise.
You lie sated and exhausted on his bed as he wipes between your legs with a damp cloth and settles down next to you, pulling your back into his chest and draping his chin over your shoulder. Your bones relax into him as his breathing balances.
“That was… the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. No contest,” You finally admit, at risk of it going straight to his head. 
“Me too,” He reciprocates, inhaling deeply as he squeezes around you. “All that fuckin’ kismet,” He chuckles in your ear. 
You hum, unable to wipe the smile from your face as his breath dances over you. As he kisses down your neck, you sigh. “Remind me to send Trish a fruit basket.”
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azrielfiend · 7 months
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hi. reminder/psa for ADHD rivulet.
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i recently had a discussion about headcanoning rivulet with ADHD. we discussed about how most portrayals of it are.... Terrible. lets talk about that.
"what do you mean?"
rivulet is often seen as the "ADHD slugcat" however. most of the portrayals that ive seen of rivulet having ADHD is because theyre an "energetic/speedy/hyper slugcat" or have "big eyes that looks neurodivergent" and thats all the ADHD trait that rivulet has. in which both of these reasons are just straight up terrible.
"why is this terrible?"
this portrayal of a speedy slugcat having ADHD just because theyre energetic/hyper is stereotypical. its harmful and doesnt actually show what ADHD is. there are more to ADHD than just being really hyper and impulsive. some of the stuff ive seen even infantilizes rivulet to an "owo cute hyperactive slugcat" which is gross!
"how can i make my ADHD rivulet better?"
first off, ADHD is actually a really overwhelming disorder. it can make you extremely sensitive to things whether it be touch, sound, texture, taste etc.
it can make you have sensory overload. you can feel overstimulated because of too many things! but you can also be understimulated when theres not much stuff happening. understimulation is NOT just boredom. it can leave you irritated for hours on end, and feeling unsatisifed with the things you do. and sometimes even feeling hopeless.
your emotions with ADHD are way worse too. theyre usually more sensitive and hard to control, rapidly changing and hard to predict. and with the already overwhelming issues from the previous point, yeah, its not great.
it can make your thoughts race or blank out, which makes it almost impossible to focus. it leaves you feeling frustrated because you are unable to finish your current task, even if it seems easy, like cleaning the dishes or making the bed. they are extremely overwhelming for a pw/ADHD. again, with all of the sensory issues mentioned.
ADHD also makes you very forgetful and prone to misremember even the most important things, such as meetings, work to do, etc etc.
and of course, hyperactivity. this also just sucks because you are unable to control yourself during bursts of hyperactivities and it makes you exhausted right after it happens. you might also potentially hurt yourself because being hyper can make you impulsive and do risky things.
plus so many more! ADHD has so many issues with it that i just urge you to research about it more before headcanoning rivulet as a slugcat with ADHD. (or any character with ADHD really.) but these are the main issues that me and the people i know w/ADHD has experienced.
im not saying that its wrong to have your rivulet as energetic/hyper/silly or with ADHD in general of course, no no no!, in fact its completely fine! but just please keep in mind when you are explictedly stating that your rivulet has adhd, dont give them only the hyperactivity trait and nothing else. dont call an energetic rivulet an "ADHD slugcat" just because its.....energetic. dont make ADHD this cutesy disorder that makes you excited and silly, because in reality, its really not.
thank you for listening to me ramble. its something thats been bothering me for a bit.
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aureatchi · 3 months
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⚕ ᡣ𐭩 . ° . AND IF THERE WAS A PLACE I HAD TO CHOOSE…IT’D BE IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT. (bedroom session) ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa, sigma
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— how the bsd men treat you when you’re sick. (& more)
a/n. started writing when i was sick djsjsja. tagging my moots who were under the weather anytime this month <3 to them & anyone else unwell, feel better soon !!
info. fem!reader. fluff. established relationships. light angst & hospital in akutagawa’s. chuuya plays the guitar. you play the piano in fyodor’s. sigma’s a chef. some inspo from RED for dazai & fyodor’s (our hcs!)
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DAZAI will cuddle with you anyway, even when you are buried under bundles of blankets. he still thinks you need a little more warmth…and you look just too cute wrapped up in what resembles an igloo to not nuzzle with you! however, don’t be surprised when he blames you for making him sick once you recover, as if it wasn’t his fault.
“A-choo!” Your eyes were watery, you felt too cold for your liking, and it was harder than usual to breathe through your nose. Your sneeze made you sit up in discomfort, and you hastily pulled the covers toward you.
“‘Bella? Are you alright?” Dazai sat up next, meeting your eyes as you turned your face toward him.
He noticed how flushed your cheeks were and how watery your eyes were as you frowned—no, the first thought Dazai had wasn’t Oh no! You’re sick!
“Aw, love! You look so cute!” And he tackled you back down.
“Osamu!” you shouted as he lay practically atop you, squeezing you like a teddy bear.
“‘Samu!” you repeated once more. “You’re going to suffocate me!”
“You feel so cold, though, darling!” His reply was muffled as he buried his face into your neck.
“It’s like you’re trying to get yourself sick!”
He sat the both of you back up.
“H-huh? What’d you mean? Why would anyone willingly get sick?”
“Oh, I’m not sure either!” you exclaimed. “Maybe so you can use it as an excuse to skip wor-“
You sneezed again, interrupting your statement, seeing through Dazai’s plan.
“Bless you ‘bella!” he replied, a bit too excited. “What were you saying?”
“I. Was-” you sneezed again. And then twice. And then thrice.
“Aw, my poor baby!” Dazai spoke in his infantile voice. “Looks like you’re super sick…don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I have a solution.”
“Yes, please,” you responded—as best as you could with him pinching your cheeks—thinking Dazai would finally get up and bring you medicine so you didn’t have to do it yourself. That was, in fact, a terrible assumption.
“You trust me so well you didn’t even wait for me to tell you!”
“Uh-”
He then proceeded to pepper your entire face with kisses.
“Get-well kisses! They work better than medicine, trust me. Because these ones are made from lo-ove~.”
“Osamu!” you shouted. “You’re really going to get sick!”
“Do you really think I care, pretty?” He moved his face so his nose was touching yours. “I’ll tell you a secret. I know why I’d get willingly sick. So that I’ll be taken care of by my favorite girl in the world-“
“You’re so stupid!” you facepalmed. “You see being ill as a reward?”
“Yeah, I’ll make you believe so by the end of the day,” he winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Thankfully, Dazai did give you medicine to clear your stuffy nose. And then he told you to stay in bed while he would prepare you…breakfast.
“Oh no,” you said, knowing well that you mostly cooked the meals for a reason. Dazai was good at many things, but there were exceptions. He wasn’t the worst cook, but he certainly wasn’t the best.
“Wait, please trust me on this one!” he pleaded before you could get up. “I promise you I won’t burn the house down.”
The brunette was staring at you with dramatic puppy-dog eyes, and you were too tired to object any further.
“You have to make sure it’s edible, too,” you glumly replied.
It felt like almost an hour passed. You started to get worried—was he really struggling with cooking you something? You imagined the kitchen would be a chaotic nightmare by now, and it was enough to make you want to check on him.
But the moment you decided to get up, the door opened with Dazai bringing in a bowl of hot soup. Surprisingly, you could smell the aroma—and it was good.
“You really underestimated me, ‘bella?” Dazai smirked as he placed the bowl on a portable bed tray. “Bon appétit!”
“I haven’t even tried it yet,” you smiled back. “It might be the worst soup I’ve ever had.”
It wasn’t bad. You hated to admit it, but it tasted delicious.
“The virus must’ve affected my taste buds, too,” you chuckled. “Because for someone whose forte isn’t cooking, this tastes really good.”
Dazai wiped his head with a phew! “I actually…put in a lot of effort. I wanted to make sure I did it all right for you. Sorry it took so long.”
You wanted to hug him. You found it so adorable that he had really taken his time to make you something.
“Awe, thanks, Osamu,” you responded. “This was really sweet.”
“So…do I get a few kisses and back rubs as a thank you?” he asked.
“Sorry, back rubs? I’m the one sick; you should be the one giving me them!”
Dazai ended up giving you the massages in exchange for continuing to cling to you without complaint. You accepted and were defeated at this point—the man really wasn’t going anywhere.
He continued to stay with you until you felt better, and very unsurprisingly he spoiled your recovery celebration by becoming sick himself.
“Heh…” he mumbled as you looked at the thermometer with a frown. Contradicting was Dazai with a large smile, despite just finding out he had a fever.
“Your turn, ‘bella!” he exclaimed. “I already called Kunikida saying I’m going to be out for another week! This almost beats a vacation.”
“Osamu!”
“What? Any time spent with you feels just as amazing. And this is just a result of how well I’ve taken care of you.”
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CHUUYA wants to make your recovery as comfortable and entertaining as possible—he doesn’t want his darling feeling mopey the entire time. after all, enjoying something distracts one from the botherations of being sick, right?
You hadn’t done as much as you would’ve liked today. Unfortunately, you were sick, but not to the point where you had to visit a doctor or were stuck in bed. It was an inconvenient gray area, where you were still able to do things but accompanied by the mild symptoms of a cold.
“Nah, doll, you’re just a workaholic.”
Chuuya laughed as you pouted while trying to do your laundry. Just because you were sick didn’t mean you should skip your chores. You would probably still go to work the next day, too—as long as you weren’t dying, you’d be alright.
You sort of felt like you were, though. You were overcome by a haze of debilitation, whether you wanted to admit it or not. But you couldn’t just sit around all day.
“I’m fine though, Chuu,” you replied, but a contradicting sneeze immediately followed.
“Your nose is saying something different,” he replied, handing you a tissue. “If you’re so bored, how ‘bout we do something actually fun? And won’t exhaust the life out of you?”
“Well, what are you thinking?” you asked, curious as you wiped your nose.
Chuuya had you sat by the table with a bowl and a box of cornstarch.
“Out of all people, it was Q who showed me this.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not dangerous. It’s weird, but I can’t deny this entrances me.”
Chuuya poured some cornstarch into the container and added a cup of water. “It gets a little messy, but…” he started combining the contents until it became a gooey mixture.
You started giggling. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the sort of crafts experiment you did as a kid.
“Chuu, this is quicksand. You’ve never made it before?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Quicksand? Nope. But look—if you play around with it, it becomes solid—isn’t that amazing? But if you let it go-“
“It turns back into liquid, yes,” you replied before you sneezed again.
“It’s so weird! What kinda manipulation is this?
You couldn’t help but laugh at how the Port Mafia executive was captivated by such a simple science project. You watched as he played around with the oobleck.
You realized you could live this day simply as well. You proceeded to make your own cool mixture as well.
“You got some on your face,” Chuuya said a little after you were finished with your venture and were washing your hands.
“Where?” you asked, about to touch your head.
“Right here,” you felt his thumb gently rub your cheek and then move around your neck to tug you closer.
“Just kidding.” He stole a kiss in its place.
Chuuya sat down on the edge of the bed with his guitar. It was late afternoon, and you decided for once a very needed nap. But not before your lover entertained you with one more thing.
“I’m gonna give ya a little performance.”
He strung his guitar several times and ensured everything was correctly tuned.
Your widened eyes in curiosity made his heart warm. You were so enamored with everything he did—just as he was utterly obsessed with you.
He started playing a familiar tune. Your favorite song. You immediately smiled despite your oncoming headache.
“One day, I think I’ll write my own song for you,” Chuuya said. “You work so hard, how couldn’t you be the inspiration of a ballad?”
You cherished times like these. Even though you were sick, you had the company of the soft, sweetheart side of the Mafia Executive.
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FYODOR is full of surprises, and you falling ill is no exception. unexpectedly, he decides to let go of his schemes and responsibilities for the day, to make sure you’re feeling better.
He could already tell by your unusual exhaustion yesterday evening. You didn’t do anything that required more exertion than usual, and it was too frigid in the year for you to feel so hot.
Fyodor already knew you wouldn’t feel so good when you woke up the following day. Your cheeks were flushed, and your head was pounding. It even ached to sit up. It was the worst combination.
Feverishly, you sneezed. A tissue was immediately placed over your nose.
“Blow, milaya.”
You looked up at Fyodor, who was standing by the bed. His amethyst gaze fell upon you—his usual amalgam of tranquility and complacency looked a bit different today…was there a hint of concern shining through his eyes?
You took the tissue from his hands and blew your nose.
“You’re supposed to be at work, no?”
You tried your hardest not to get sick because of this reason. You would be another hassle on Fyodor’s list of endeavors. You hated the thought of contributing, especially when he was already stressed and occasionally neglected his own needs with what he already had to do.
“You would really expect me to when I had to carry you to bed last night?”
The previous evening was a blur. Sometime after dinner, the weather immediately flew over you, and all your energy just drained out.
“Ah.” You sneezed again into the tissue. “Well, I think I’ll be fine on my own. I know you have a lot on your hands. I can take care of myse-“
“Please believe me. You’re not being a burden,” Fyodor cut you off and directly addressed the point you had been dancing around. His hand found yours and started to massage your fingers. He felt ice cold against you—or perhaps, you were on fire.
“Is your throat sore? I’ll make you some tea.”
He didn’t leave you alone for too long. Fyodor returned with a cup of hot ginger tea that you immediately took, desperate for some relief for your throat. Your nose was quickly soothed by the warm, sharp aroma of the ginger as you held the mug close to your mouth.
If there was one thing you learned, there was a type of tea for every occasion. Fyodor had an entire cabinet dedicated to those beverages—all precisely arranged.
“Is it alright?” Fyodor asked as you sipped, the liquid alleviating the soreness in your throat.
“Yes, of course,” you replied. “Maybe after I can try to get up…” your voice trailed off as you struggled even to shift your position.
“What’s wrong?” Fyodor moved beside you again as you frowned.
“I feel really sore. Like I ran a marathon without stretching at all yesterday,” you dryly chuckled, even though that had not been the case at all. Your whole body ached; it felt uncomfortable to move anything, and you felt awfully weak.
Fyodor didn’t respond for a moment, thinking.
“You can still entertain yourself without moving. Do you want to read? I’ll bring you to the living room.”
You curtly nodded your head and picked out one of the many books on the large shelf before Fyodor carried you to the sofa in the next room.
“Stay on my lap,” he said, holding you by your waist when you tried to move away.
“I don’t want you to get sick too,” you replied, confused.
“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I’m doing a favor for you.”
He motioned for you to enjoy your book and not pay attention to him. So you did as he said—you flipped to the page you left off on and tried to immerse yourself in the plot.
It got easy to do so and lose track of reality because Fyodor started to massage you—hands moving in circular motions on your shoulders to ease and relax the pain on your joints.
You felt both too hot and cold alone on your bed earlier. But here, in the embrace of your lover, you could see the end of your little tunnel of fever.
“Thank you, Fedya,” you whispered sometime after.
He got up to do something on his own a little later, but not before tucking you into the softest blankets you owned on the couch. He admired you for a moment right after—a touch of amusement in his eyes.
“What’s so funny?” you asked with a pout. You felt like you were made into a burrito.
Fyodor had thought the same.
“Milashka,” he simply smiled.
You thought he went away to attend to the business he was able to at home—Fyodor was infamous for being a workaholic after all, but you were surprised once again when amidst your reading, you heard a melody coming from the other room. Rich and resonant, you realized he was practicing his cello.
You placed your book down and freed yourself from the warm blankets before making your way over to the next room, disregarding the dull pain that still accompanied you.
Fyodor didn’t pause as you entered and sat down on the piano’s stool. You opened the cover and placed your fingers on the keys before smoothly joining in with the composition you had secretly been learning while he was away so you could play with him.
He probably suspected it anyway, but you still smiled and felt a little pride as you harmonized with him without error—and while sick.
♬♩♫♪
There was a moment of silence after the final note. You felt at peace. The tune made you sleepy.
Fyodor stepped towards you, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze.
“You played it perfectly, lyubov,” he said before kissing your forehead. “How about a nap now as a reward?”
After a glass of water and an adjustment of the heater, Fyodor tucked you back under the covers. He checked your temperature with the back of his palm, and he was appeased to find that your fever had noticeably gone down.
You suddenly giggled, catching Fyodor off guard.
“Why are you giggling?”
“I had an observation,” you chirped. You wanted to tell him it was evident he had been stealing physical affection from you throughout the day and that he wasn’t sly, but alas, exhaustion had overcome you again.
You took his own hand in yours. “Wash your hands after,” you whispered before placing a kiss on his fingertips. “This was nice. I feel better because of you staying.”
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AKUTAGAWA feels that the roles have been reversed because it is usually him who is sick, and you helping him get better. however, this time it’s you, and so he wants to repay all the care and love you showed him. for once, not to prove something, but to show proof of your adoration towards him.
You didn’t want Akutagawa to visit you that day. You had sent him a text earlier that you were sick—your pneumonia was so severe that you were admitted to the hospital. He immediately rushed over right after.
You told him he didn’t have to—truthfully, half of your heart didn’t want him to because of his already weakened immune system and his tendency to get sick easily.
Yet he still showed up at your bedside with a “get-better” box and pink tulips, a mask covering half his face.
“Ryu, I appreciate this so much,” you told him, a cough accompanying your statement. “But I promise you don’t need to stay—I don’t want you to get sick too.”
He didn’t respond before striding over to the sink as if he were in his own house, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. You watched him trim your flowers, place them in the container, and then putting it on the counter.
“Ryu…”
“You’re in the hospital. Do you think I could just go about my day like my girlfriend isn’t sick?”
Even though his tone was straightforward, his hand gently brushed away the hair covering your eyes.
He was visibly bothered. He hated seeing you in the hospital gown, lying on the bed. He hated the IV line attached to you and the distant beeps! of your vitals. Akutagawa went through this experience more often than not, and if not painful, it was always irritating and unpleasant.
He would never want you going through this, even once.
“Are you comfortable? Should I move you to one of the VIP rooms?”
“That’s not necessary, thank you though,” you replied. You noticed the exhaustive distress in his argentine eyes.
“I’m going to be okay, Ryu,” you reassured him. “I promise. Just don’t touch me for now.”
Akutagawa nodded. “Are you hungry? Is there anything you’re craving?”
“I want…something sweet,” you bashfully replied. “All the hospital food was savory…they missed a dessert.”
You could see the corners of his mouth slightly lift up—an unlikely smile, especially in a place like this. “No explanations are needed. I’ll be back.”
He returned with one of the sweets you always picked up whenever you went grocery shopping and a couple of figs for himself. Akutagawa didn’t like sugary things that much, but this fruit he could eat for days. He indeed ate one a day—you were able to observe how long he would be gone on a mission based on how many figs he brought with him.
Akutagawa had brought two today. Was he planning to stay with you overnight? You knew he hated the hospitals—he would never willingly go to one.
Yet here he was, pulling up a chair by your bedside.
“I brought a book,” he said. “Can I read to you?”
“Of course,” you replied. “I didn’t feel like using the TV here anyway, so nothing’s been entertaining.”
The onyx-haired pulled out a book from his coat.
“Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest,” he started.
When Akutagawa was sick, you often read him children’s stories to combat his restlessness. He was calmed by your voice and fell asleep faster than any over-the-counter medication ever worked.
The first time you had found him in the hospital before you were even in a relationship with him, you introduced him to The Little Prince. At first, he scoffed and turned his back the other way, pretending not to listen. But his furrowed brows relaxed, and his frown lifted as you continued with the story—the theme of the openmindedness of children compared to adults, loneliness, love, and loss all gave him something to think about.
Eventually, the book became a source of comfort and light to Akutagawa, and now he had his own copy.
"‘And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.’” By the time Akutagawa had gotten to that part, you had dozed off into a nap.
When you finally awoke, the curtains were closed, and the only source of light came from an ambient lamp on the nightstand. And in this night, you also felt a soft pressure on your legs—Akutagawa’s head. He had fallen asleep too, with the book still flipped to a page.
You felt both adoration and woe in your heart. He was sacrificing comfort and possibly his health for you. You desperately felt the need to stroke through his white-tipped raven hair, but you didn’t want to heighten any more chances.
You fell asleep again after minutes of watching your lover’s chest delicately rise and fall, just as he carried his true self without his violent front.
Akutagawa stayed until you woke up the following day. He went out to do some errands and then returned with a small gift for you he picked up during the day. That was the routine he followed for the next three days, always content to find you better than the previous day until you were all better.
A nurse came in with a final evaluation and discharged you. You changed into new clothes Akutagawa had brought you before running up and embracing him.
He hugged you back tightly, relieved that you were finally out. He turned to the vase of the pink tulips, which were starting to wither.
“Just in time,” he said.
“The get-well-soon flowers,” you giggled, taking your first good look at them. You loved how he knew of flower symbolism.
“Let’s get out of here,” Akutagawa said, holding out his hand for yours to take. “I despise dwelling in this place any longer.”
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SIGMA is worried sick, even though you’re the one sick. how could he not, especially when he isn’t with you? are you feeling alright? drinking enough water? eating well?
“You’re sick?” Sigma asked over the phone.
“Is it my fault? I mean, I was feeling unwell last week, but I got better in a day, so I didn’t think it was that serious…”
“No, it wasn’t; please don’t worry,” you replied. You hated when your lover blamed your problems on himself. “But yeah, it sucks. I even lost my smell! I can’t smell anything.”
“Really?” You sensed his worry through the call.
“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can pick you up and take you there—or I can call the doctor to your house if you’d prefer that-“
“No, it’s okay! It’s not that serious; I’ll be fine in a few days,” you said. “I just wanted to let you know because I won’t be able to see you for a week. But don’t worry about me. I’ll update you.”
“Oh, I see,” Sigma responded. “Alright then.”
Firstly, Sigma was most definitely worried. Secondly, you couldn’t smell? He knew how much you loved the dulcet scents of the desserts he created and the delicate fragrances of your favorite flowers. You must’ve been even a little upset when you realized that sense was gone.
Of course, he wasn’t going to leave you to battle the viruses alone, despite you having just said you didn’t plan to see him until you got better. So, the part lilac, part pearly-haired immediately set out to plan a sweet surprise for you.
The next day, Sigma showed up at your front door with a homemade bento box and a few bags of groceries.
“What are you doing here?”
“I at least have to check if you’re eating well.”
One thing that hadn’t changed since meeting Sigma was the butterflies in your stomach feeling. He always showed nothing but ultimate consideration and compassion towards you, treating you like royalty.
“I’m trying,” you replied honestly. “Everything tastes the same. I can’t smell any of it.”
“Maybe it’ll be more appealing if the food looks nice.” With that, he walked to the dining table.
“You haven’t had lunch yet?” You nodded, expectably to him.
“Sit down, love.” He pulled out one of the chairs. You followed him, taking a seat as he prepared your meal—putting a placemat on the table and setting the bento box on top.
You opened the container, and you were revealed with an assortment of the prettiest foods. For the first time this week, you were hungry.
The ones that caught your eye the most were the rice balls decorated to look like chibi versions of you and Sigma. A part of you didn’t want to ruin something so cute.
“What—this is so cute, Sigma! You’re so creative,” you complimented him. “It’s like you cook with magic.”
You noticed Sigma’s cheeks tint a rosy pink. “T-thank you. Go ahead and eat while I prepare your dessert.”
“Dessert?” you asked as you eyed the remaining grocery bags he was holding.
“You’re going to bake here?” You weren’t complaining, but you wondered why he didn’t decide to do it at his place.
“Yeah. That way, it’ll taste the best. Everything tastes the best when it’s freshly baked.”
You ended up eating everything. Sigma’s cooking never failed to impress you, even for a previously sated stomach.
“I finished!” you exclaimed, earning a smile from Sigma in the kitchen.
You hadn’t paid attention to what he was making in the meantime. He had put the tray of mystery into the oven a few minutes ago, so you were unable to see what it was.
“It’ll be done in twenty minutes,” Sigma said, walking over to you and taking your hand. “Was it good?”
“Very tasty; I’m full now,” you replied, looking up at him. His ashen eyes shone a gleam of fondness once he made eye contact with you, causing him to fluster again. He was so cute—at times, Sigma still acted like a schoolboy with a crush on you.
“You know your body makes room for dessert,” he noted coyly.
He guided you to stand up, and as you did, a familiar scent softly breezed past you.
The smell of your favorite muffin—and the smell of Sigma’s kitchen. It was faint, but it was there. Your eyes widened in wonder.
“Wait, Sigma—I can smell this!”
Even though it was a bit dramatic, you were cheerful to finally be able to smell any thing after a couple of days. You spun with Sigma around the room in delight. Surrounded by the aroma that made you feel truly at home and the sunrays through the windows, you started to dance together.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, a bit concerned you were spinning around while feeling unwell.
“Yes,” you reassured him, drawing Sigma into an embrace. “I’m just thrilled right now. I think you’re cooking does have magic.”
The muffins were out and looked mouthwatering. Sigma took the first one from the tray and peeled down the wrapper.
“First taste is yours,” he said, taking your palm and placing the pastry in your hand.
“Today, I’ll be Sigma’s food critic,” you joked among the two of you. “He’s baked my favorite muffin—I’m rea-ally picky about this dessert, for your information. So I’m going to be really harsh on this review…”
Catching him off guard, you ate the entire sweet in one bite. You started laughing when Sigma abruptly gasped.
“Mm! That was delicious!” you declared, trying to sound like you were trying this for the first time. However, it contradicted the way you were reaching for a second one. Sigma had made this for you hundreds of times before—there was never one time you refused a muffin from him.
“Eleven out of ten!”
“And so are you,” Sigma added, bopping you on the nose. “If my cuisine does involve magic, then I hope that the food works better than medicine.”
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bea’s acoustic songs are always so calming & pretty; in my mind, this is what chuuya plays for me. <3
i saw you said you were sick on the dash this month, i’m glad you’re feeling better by now/feel better soon, this is for you <3 @lovedazai @cheriiyaya @chuuyrr @osaemu @atlasnessie
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i heard if you rb, your fav will give you get-well kisses until you feel better !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most <3
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© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. dividers by cafekitsune.
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astrobydalia · 11 months
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more observations (lost count)✨
Hello guys! Life's been crazy lately and I barely have time to make any of the master posts I wanted to, so you'll be getting lost of observation posts that I've been collecting in my drafts for the past months. As always, enjoy!
❗️long post
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work by astrobydalia
✨ Sagittarius and Aquarius are so fucking similar. Both of them are chaotic af, love their freedom and think they're smarter than everyone else. People who have both of these in their big 6 have the most unhinged
✨ Libra is WAY more obsessed with perfection than Virgo
✨ Whenever I had Libra or Taurus ASC on my Solar return chart I was lazy AS FUCK. I had no motivation to work whatsoever during those years, all I wanted to do was vibe and enjoy life. I also felt very relaxed and stress-free, when difficulties came I just went with the flow
✨ What is up with Gemini risings and always feeling intellectually insecure all the time? Literally their #1 insecurity is feeling like they are dumb or like they’re not good enough for highly abstract and intellectual tasks/professions. They come across as someone immature who lacks wisdom or has a superficial/simplistic view of things. I feel like this is because they attract people who are a bit of know-it-alls (Sagittarius DSC) and they have a reputation for being scattered-brained (Pisces 10th house) so people tent to infantilize them a lot.
^^^But let me tell you this not true at all, Gemini risings are some of the most brilliant people I’ve met with so much potential. Their problem is that they allow overthinking to get the best of them and end up doubting themselves 24/7. These are the type of people who have amazing ideas but they never pursue any them. They really struggle making decisions for themselves, they always need to ask for opinions first which is not a bad thing but this makes them come across as incapable or as someone who lacks self-sufficiency
✨ Mercurial signs (Virgo and Gemini) like to focus on concrete things and immediate reality, they process life by connecting one thing at a time and taking info as it comes, they focus on what's going on around them cause Mercury is all about multiplicity and details. With Jupiter signs on the other hand (Sag and Pisces) one thing about them is they don't care about details as long as things make sense as a whole, they see life from a more broad and general perspective, they prefer having a birds eye view of things because Jupiter is all about expansion and therefore it likes to encompass many things at once. This is why Virgo and Gemini rule mundane life themes and immediate reality while Sag and Pisces are more about general life lessons and higher knowledge
✨ Scorpio moons/8th house moons are the definition of an energy vampire fr. They just have a really poor understanding of healthy emotional boundaries, they expect you to give your all but aren't willing to reciprocate and always turn everything into a manipulation or mind game somehow which makes it pretty exhausting to be around them in the long run. Don't get me wrong, most of the ones I’ve met were very and good people but they always end up taking my energy away and make me feel emotionally burnt out
✨ Mercury-Mars aspects have this "it is what it is" mentality and really dislike over complicating things by reading too deep into them. They tend to think things exactly as they seem. This does not mean they're simplistic, on the contrary this makes them surprisingly insightful fast thinkers and are not the type to be easily fooled
✨ I've seen people saying that hard aspects between Mercury-Pluto makes people misunderstand your words. This is not true, this happens with Neptune cause Neptune rules delusion, but Pluto is a very blunt and straightforward planet cause it's all about revealing the dark truths. Mercury-Pluto aspects makes someone very deliberate with their words and they know exactly what to say to make their message stick. You will understand their words exactly how they want you to understand them. What happens with hard aspects is that the native tends to have a more provocative approach in the things they say, they don't care if you're offended by what they say as long as what they say makes an impact. People can misunderstand their intentions because of this, but not their words
✨ The ironic thing about Aquarius placements is that they are very good when it comes to connecting with the masses, the public usually feels very drawn to them because they're very good at appealing to collective values which makes them come across as relatable to many people as a result. However, when you actually try to relate to them or connect one-on-one, you will find yourself with someone that is surprisingly elusive, distant and more distrustful than Scorpio placements which is a huge contrast from the welcoming vibe they give off to the public. I've found that the only way you will get close to an Aquarius placements is on THEIR terms lmao, if they've decided they like you, it'll be them who will approach you and/or make the effort to engage with you
✨ A reocurring thing I've seen with Virgo placements is that they really dislike big changes and prefer to stay in control. I think this is not mentioned often cause it's kinda weird to say that about a mutable sign, but Virgos being mercury+earth ruled they feel comfortable relying on facts, data, observations, etc and they use all this tangible info to navigate reality, that's why they rule daily life and routines because they invest a lot of their energy on factually understanding and categorizing their reality (earth signs in general are very attached to the tangible). Their mutable nature shows in that they easily use their knowledge to adapt, find solutions and fix what’s wrong but when they are in situations where these "categories" prove to be useless (aka Pisces themes), they get very triggered cause that means they no longer have control of their reality
✨ That being said another reoccurring thing I’ve noticed with Virgo placements is that they love to predict things. But not in a mystical sense it’s more like they enjoy understanding things in such way that they’re able to easily put a label on them and easily predict what’s going on or how something works
✨ I have not seen a single Taurus placement who didn’t have the most insanely sexy and pleasant voice ever. Doesn’t matter if they sing of not, just hearing their voice is so delightful
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✨ Aquarius Mercury really believe their opinions are the most ultimate and correct opinions out there. They are certain that their judgment is always 100% objective (aka always true) so in their mind if you slightly disagree with them that means you’re mediocre, dumb or narrow-minded.
✨ There's always a duality in all mutable signs. Sagittarius can be very humorous and optimistic but also very dark and profound. Gemini can be curious and chaotic but also very analytical and logical. Virgo can be picky and perfectionistic but also very permissive and conformist. Pisces can be very compassionate and wise but also very detached and clueless
✨ Neptune does not do well in air houses/signs at all simply because air energy rules (different types of) information and connections, while Neptune is all delusion and confusion. Also air energy is purely cerebral and rational while Neptune appeals to the unconscious
✨ I have not fact-checked this but I feel like it's safe to say that Mars rules testosterone. Testosterone is a hormone associated to violence or impulsive behavior, sex drive, red blood cells (blood), masculinity, etc That's literally all mars
✨ People always talk about how Capricorn moons have had a rough life but I've noticed this is also very true for Sagittarius Moons?? Responsibilities are not imposed on them like Capricorn, in their case they have to build up wisdom about life through pure and raw experience without anyone giving them a heads up or any pointers first, that's why they grow up feeling like they're fully on their own. Things work out for them at the end but they always have most MESSY life experience it's really crazy
✨ Both domicile and afflicted Mars are ambitious and determined but the main difference is that Libra/Taurus/Cancer Mars need to find some type of enjoyment or fulfillment in their goals in order to get motivated while Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio Mars find motivation in the challenge and endure through stuff they don't find pleasant
✨ From what I've seen males with Scorpio placements are very superficial and will gaslight as a lifestyle. They are the type of people who look the other way or brush things off or never takes anything seriously and I've noticed they do this so they never have to take accountability.
✨ Neptune/Pisces energy either gives “glamorous and ethereal” vibes or “weird in an extremely cringe way” vibes, there’s no in-between
✨ A reoccurring thing I've noticed with those who have Chiron in Taurus/2nd house or Chiron-Venus is that they often have dubious morality or double standards because they don't have a solid values
✨ Every single Libra Moon/rising female I’ve met embodied the material girl stereotype. They really have this “instagram girl” vibes to them if that makes sense
✨ Those with Sagittarius in the 5th house can actually find a lot of joy and happiness in becoming parents or they have a lot of fun with children
✨ Scorpio Mars can't stand not knowing what's going on around them and at first I thought this was bc they were suspicious/paranoid but then I realized it’s because they’re just controlling as shit. They come across as very chill and care fee but they’re actually SUPER controlling dude. Even when they know for sure that they can trust you and you’re doing nothing wrong they still want to keep taps on you and won’t leave you alone. They won't bluntly violate your privacy but will still find ways to always know what you're up to
✨ The resentful and spiteful stereotype associated to Scorpio actually belongs to Leo placements imo. They can be very reactive and childish when you insult their ego and will make it very known that they won't let it go
✨ Cancer North Node people always have some sort of issue or inner conflict with of having kids. They feel drawn to the idea of becoming a parent but deep down they low-key don't? I've also seen many women with this placement who had fertility issues
I have the theory that these natives are conflicted in this topic because they see family as an achievement or a societal expectation (Capricorn south node) so in this life time they have to know what it's like to desire a family for the right reasons and not because they feel like they 'should'
✨ Capricorn risings really are hyper-aware of their public image and how others perceive them. That's why they always end up becoming very popular and respected, cause they know very well where they "stand" publicly so they know how to successfully curate their own reputation. It's not surprising to see this placement a lot in celebrities
✨ Pluto in the 12th house are genuinely unsure of who they can trust which leads to a lot of paranoia and projection. The type to ignore the most obvious red flags but then automatically doubt your loyalty cus you spoke in a suspicious tone
✨ Pisces/12th house placements 🤝 disappearing. Y’all shit on Gemini for ghosting but have you ever met a pisces/12th houser?
✨ Saturn in 5th house people had parents (namely father) who were overly critical of them and their self-expression. Doesn’t necessarily mean they were unsupportive of the native but they were quite hard on the native’s creativity
✨ I've seen a lot of bullies/mean girls have Aquarius placements. Honorable mentions: virgo, Leo, libra
✨ Neptune-ASC people are really good at making themselves invisible when they want and/or making parts of themselves go completely unnoticed even if they're bluntly obvious. I've noticed they actually get away with a lot cause they have this tendency to not be accurately seen by others if that makes sense
✨ Neurodivergent individuals usually have Mercury harshly aspecting (conjunction, square, opposition and inconjuction) Uranus and Saturn. Said Mercury is more often than not in a water house/sign/degree or in Aries. Of course not everyone with these aspects will be neurodivergent, but it's just a pattern I've seen
✨ Pluto-ASC people most of the times fail to have a lighthearted view towards life. They always want to look beyond the surface of things which doesn't really allow them to enjoy life as it is. They often get a reputation for looking too deep into everything and in turn the Pluto-asc native often sees others as superficial
✨ Virgo risings are huge conformist and won’t go after anything that’s outside their immediate boundaries. They only make an effort towards things that are accessible and will quickly lose interest in anything that has difficult availability or requires them to go way out of their comfort zone. They're overall pretty self-serving.
✨ I know several people diagnosed with OCD. All of them have Virgo AND 6th house placements, 22º in their big 3, Scorpio Mercury/Moon and Mercury dominance
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work by astrobydalia
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luviwon · 4 months
Text
BEGGING ON HER KNEES TO BE POPULAR 이희승
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warning: public nudity and head, careless fuck boy heeseung, y/n in embarrassment situations, degradation
COMING BACK FOR MORE?
"Can you not keep your promise anymore, pretty girl?"
The tall, brunette guy wouldn't let you leave anymore. As much as you tried to get away from his arms, he was holding you way too tight. His worked out arms around your waist were making you feel small and powerless. He was strong, and he was taking advantage out of that.
"I thought we established something" he whispered into your ear, barely able to hear him through the loud music in the house.
You sighed to yourself, turning around in his arms and not breaking for even a second the eye contact between the two of you. As drunk as he must have been, he was still so beautiful. Not to your surprise, but it's been a while now since you had a thing for this guy. Even though he had no idea, but isn't that better?
You were not his type anyway.
"Alright, but not here. I don't want to have my breasts touched in the middle of a party"
The guy agreed with a smile on his face, more like a devil one. He let you guide him outside, to the garage you were hoping. From all the parties you've been to before, you didn't remember once there being people in the garage. So it was the perfect place to show your zesty chest to Heeseung.
"Here now" you whispered to yourself, starting to feel self-conscious. Was this right?
The brunette got closer, measuring your waist in his hands. His palms travelled their way up, making sure to pull up your shirt at the same time with them and have your perfect, round tits pop out in his face, yet still while wearing your black bra. It was actually one of your favourites, and that cause it was the most comfortable one you were owning. The design was hot too. It was kind of a see-throught piece, with floral texture, showing bits of your skin every here and there. However, they really did not miss revealing what's most important.
Your hardened nipples, unaware if because of the cold or because of his presence, were making a scene themselves. Heeseung didn't hesitate to use his pointing fingers to rub them through the piece of material, pressing hard against your chest. They were so pretty to him. He barely pulled down your bra a little bit, just to have them show on top of it.
Heeseung licked two of his fingers and started twisting one of your nipples, making you try not to start moaning. That was one of the sensitive spots, you could say. Crossing your legs, you did not oppose what he was doing. It was once in a lifetime experience. The boy kept playing with your nipples, not getting bored of them for even a second. It was like heaven for him.
He moved behind your back, holding your tits in his hands while pushing his lower body against yours. He was just dying to make you aware of what he was feeling like.
"Your pretty tits made me think of other things I want to do with you, princess"
Heeseung pressed his lips against your neck, sucking on the clear skin and leaving nasty marks all around. He walked the two of you outside, you feeling a shiver around your naked chest. You were wondering why you were now in the middle of the yard, but you doubted he'd even tell you. He didn't care enough to reassure you of anything.
"I want to push your pretty breast against my car window. I want to flex with that so much, baby"
Heeseung left another mark, but this time on the other side of your neck. He wanted to show you off? For a second, you felt like you could actually be his type and he'd actually be interested in you. But that's just an infantile quick reaction. How could he, right? Even though you were daydreaming about him so much, you would do anything to be his.
"You could" you whispered yet he heard.
He turned you around, making you face him. His face was all dark, probably because of the night, but you couldn't mistake that smirk for nothing. He was definitely thinking about it.
"I know you have a thing for me. No need to hide anymore."
You gulped as hearing that, your eyes pupils becoming bigger. You did not expect him to know. To his mind, no girl is important. He just uses them all. That's just how he was. So there was no hope in that.
"You see darling, we don't really match, but for this pair of tits..." he started, coming closer again and grabbing your boobs in his hands, squeezing them hard enough to make you whine inside your mouth "...I wouldn't mind taking you up here"
Heeseung let go of your breast, pushing you on the grass and have you falling on your back. He wished you would have fallen all the way, then those pretty legs will reveal something just as hot under that tight skirt.
"If you want me, try and win me, nerdy" he giggled, palming himself for a couple of seconds "It's all ready for you"
Were you actually going to give him head in front of the house where all of your friends were? Definitely. You would have never had another opportunity but this one. And as scared as you were that you'd be caught, it didn't even matter. At least you took Hee's dick inside your hungry mouth.
Heeseung is known to fuck around and change the dorms every weekends, and the rumour were spreading fast. Just like the rumours about his size, which were no joke. As you got on your knees and pulled down his trousers, his hard dick stood up in front of you, almost getting in your mouth itself. You felt scared as to how to do it. It was your first time, so you were not quite sure.
But fuck it, you needed to taste him already.
"Take it, already, bitch" he yelled, annoyed at your constant hesitation, even though it was only for a short time.
Your breasts still exposed in the cold were making you shiver, and the wet grass under your knees didn't help much either. But you had to do it now, otherwise it won't happen again. Heeseung will not give you his dick for free next time.
Anxiously you wrapped your lips around his dick, moving up and down, though barely making it half the way. You could already feel yourself gagging, making Heeseung smirk to himself. He was damn big. You used your hands to touch around his cock, holding his balls in your hands. Hee pushed your head down harder, you barely resisting.
He was so hard and difficult to control. If he knows there's something he wants to do, there is no little time for explaination. He will just do it.
"Force yourself to take me all"
Heeseung pushed his length all inside your mouth, reaching the middle of your throat, thrusting in and out while making you gag constantly. As much of a whore as you were for him, you couldn't do it. It was too much.
"On your knees to be popular...You suck, pretty, but you suck really badly"
Heeseung sighed at the view of you trying and failing, and left you alone in the grass, with your bra almost falling, on his way to find another girl dying to be his new whore.
[ Hi loves! I found myself in a really shit financial situation and I need to save to be able to cover my apartment deposit, which is a lot. If you could and would want to, it would mean the world to me if you'd help me out with that, every penny counts honestly. Doesn't matter if it's £1, £10, more or less, it's the thought. Thank you for reading this message! For payment information, please just text me. Also, as a gift, I will write special content for you.]
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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months
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Hello first timer here, Can I request for hcs for Gojo, Nanami and Choso wherein their frail darling manages to escape but not so far because they end up getting a fever from all the stress
No Escape
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
REQUESTS: OPEN
warnings: obsessive behavior, kidnapping, delusional mindset, choso breaks your leg
taglist:
If you would like to be added to the SFW Yandere!JJK taglist, please comment a ❤️(red heart emoji). You must have your age in your bio and have a tagable/mentionable blog!
Yandere Prompt List
Gojo
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-He doesn’t keep you too locked up considering you’re not very strong, even a bit frail.
-You are usually left alone in his home when he’s busy, just with the front door locked. He’s already made you well aware that no matter what you do, he’ll always find you
-Unfortunately, you’re tired of being imprisoned and want to go outside. It wasn’t your attempt to escape really, you just wanted some fresh air and time in the sun.
-You didn’t expect it to be so cold. You only had on a pair of socks and slippers, along with a tshirt and pajama pants. As you walk around, you notice how out of the way your “home” is. Even if you wanted to run to someone for help, you couldn’t. If you did happen upon someone, Gojo may just kill them for trying to help you.
-After walking for 30 minutes, you collapse in the snow from fever. It doesn’t take long once Gojo comes home for him to find you. He’s nearly distraught with worry, taking you back to his home and calling Shoko to come take a look at you.
-When you wake up, instead of a punishment or yelling, he pulls you into his arms. This is the first time you’ve seen Gojo cry. “Please… never worry me like that again. I was terrified that I lost you…”
Nanami
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-Now, even despite your condition, Nanami is much more careful keeping you confined and safe. It’s almost obsessive with the way he fawns over you, making sure you’re comfortable yet also being gator you’re not very capable of escaping.
-Even though you’re treated well, being locked up is boring. One day, you decide to attempt an escape, wanting your freedom.
-You don’t get very far before you collapse, your frail body and midn too stressed to continue. When Nanami finds you, he picks you up as gently as possible and carries you home.
-for your bad behavior you’re now forced to wear a chain on your ankle when he leaves, but to nip the problem of your boredom in the bud, he allows you to watch TV and buys you new books to keep your mind occupied. Nanami isn’t evil and he knows what he’s done to you is wrong, so he tries to be understanding and keep you comfortable.
-He is more cautious and paranoid for the next few weeks though, barely leaving you home alone for more than thirty minutes. It’s not that he thinks you’ll actually have a successful escape attempt, no, he doesn’t want you to get yourself hurt from over exertion.
Choso
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-You are very much infantilized by Choso. He treats you like a sickly child, trying to feed and bathe you when you’re feeling tired. He never thought you would even think of escaping his grasp. In his mind, you desperately need his care and attention to survive.
-So when he finds you collapsed in the middle of the woods a few yards away from the small cabin he put you in, let’s just say he goes full on insane with worry and stress.
-He carries you back of course, making sure your fever is down before he settles on what he’s going to do. Choso’s delusional mind has been confronted with the fact that you’re not as innocent and frail as he thought. He’ll need to take drastic measures to insure you don’t get out again.
-he has tears streaming down his face when he breaks your leg, sobbing out apologies while you scream in agony. “So sorry princess, it’s for your own good, I promise. Shh, shh, don’t cry. It won’t hurt for much longer.”
-He has always called you princess, but after breaking your leg you are treated like one more than before. He does everything for you, making sure you take your pain medicine and eat well. Choso even bathes you, and is glad to see your need to escape vanish once you’re all healed. He only has to remind you of this experience when you’re being bratty once for you to fall in line.
-Choso hates that you fear him, but he’s happy you’re more compliant now. It means you’re safe, and if he has to be the villain to maintain your safety, so be it.
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