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heliosunny · 4 months ago

Note

Could we get a Boothill Lucky Egg?

PWEASE?!

-*^* anon

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Boothill x Reader

The first thing you noticed was the heat.

Not the gentle warmth of sunlight or the lingering comfort of blankets, this was heavier, more oppressive, like the thick air before a storm. Then came the scent of gunpowder, worn leather, and metal tinged with something sharp.

Your fingers twitched, brushing against something solid. Not the sheets. Not the mattress.

Your eyes snapped open.

And there he was.

A tall figure, stretched out beside you like he’d been there all along. His hat with star-shaped emblems glinting faintly under the light was tilted just enough to cast a shadow over his face, but not enough to hide the long, white hair streaked with black that spilled over his shoulder.

A red scarf rested loose around his neck, shifting slightly as he breathed, and his jacket was unzipped just enough to reveal the mechanical structure of his torso.

His eyes- grey, rimmed in black like the barrel of a gun, at the center, white reticles marked each pupil, staring back at you like a scope locked on a target.

“Mornin’” he drawled, like this wasn’t the first time he’d woken up next to you.

“What the hell—?!” You scrambled back, pressing yourself against the edge of the bed. “Who...how did you—?!”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, finally sitting up. His cropped jacket shifted with the motion, exposing more of his mechanical frame, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to explain himself.

Instead, he tipped his hat up slightly, revealing the full, lazy amusement in his gunmetal eyes.

“Hatched” he said.

You froze. “What?”

Boothill rolled a shoulder, fingers brushing over the bullets strapped to his belt. “Same way a chick busts outta an egg—‘cept in this case, reckon it was a lucky draw.”

Your gaze flicked to his gun, to the bullet earring on his ear.

This man was dressed like he’d just walked off the battlefield.

And yet, he looked entirely at ease.

Your hands curled into fists. “That doesn’t explain who you are.”

Boothill exhaled slowly, lifting a hand to his belt—not to draw his gun, just to rest his fingers against it, casual-like.

“Name’s Boothill” he murmured. “And as far as I can tell…”

He leaned in slightly, sharp teeth flashing in a slow, deliberate grin.

“You’re my partner.”

You pushed off the bed, ignoring the way Boothill’s gaze followed your every movement. “Come with me.”

His expression didn’t change, but you caught the slight shift in his posture—relaxed, easy, but never off-guard. Like a man who never let his hand stray too far from his gun.

The place where the Lucky Egg Dispenser had once stood was empty.

No trace of its oversized, ridiculous capsule design. No faint hum of energy. No nothing.

Just bare ground where it had been.

“That’s—” You swallowed. “That’s not possible.”

You had used it. You were sure of it. The egg had been there.

Your head snapped toward Boothill.

He was standing just behind you, hat tilted downward, one hand resting lazily against his belt.

“You know something” you accused.

Boothill let out a quiet chuckle. “Darlin’, I am somethin’.”

You clenched your jaw. “That doesn’t answer anything.”

He hummed, stepping past you, slow and deliberate, boots kicking up dust where the machine had once been. He knelt down, gloved fingers grazing the dirt—then lifted them, rubbing them together like he could feel something you couldn’t.

“Well, ain’t that somethin’” he murmured.

Your patience was wearing thin. “What?”

Boothill stood, dusting off his hands. “No trace. Like it never existed.”

“That’s my point,” you snapped. “I saw it. It was here. It gave me—”

Your throat closed around the words.

It gave me you.

Boothill only smirked, like he’d been waiting for you to connect the dots. “Reckon that means one thing.”

“Which is?”

He tapped two fingers against his temple. “You ain’t dreamin’.” Then, after a beat, “And you ain’t losin’ your mind neither, far as I can tell.”

Morning, Post-Hatching

Waking up with a cowboy that "hatched" from an egg wasn’t exactly how you imagined your week going.

Boothill had spent the rest of the morning settling in like he belonged. He had a way of leaning just close enough to make you aware of his presence without pushing, of watching your reactions like he was taking stock of every little twitch and hesitation.

“So,” you muttered, arms crossed as you leaned against the counter, watching him pick apart a gadget he had found on your desk. “What exactly are you planning to do now that you’re here?”

Boothill gave you a slow glance from under his hat, fingers twirling a tiny metal gear between them. The barest flick of his wrist sent it spinning through the air—he caught it without looking.

“That a real question, or you just makin’ conversation?”

“It’s real.”

“Then I reckon the answer’s simple.” He tilted his head “Gonna be wherever you are, sweetheart.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Boothill leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his palm. His reticle-marked eyes glinted under the light.

“Ain’t it?”

Fine. If he wasn’t going anywhere, he might as well pull his weight.

The world you lived in revolved around dungeon raids. Every fight, every challenge, every victory earned you points—currency to trade for goods, resources, even shelter.

If Boothill was going to stick around, he needed to prove he could handle himself. Which was why you brought him to a Trial Dungeon.

It was a beginner’s test, nothing too difficult. Just enough to see if Boothill could hold his own.

And, well—

He didn’t just pass.

He obliterated it.

The instant the battle began, Boothill moved like a gunshot. One second he was at your side, the next he was gone, boots skidding across the battlefield, bullets flying with terrifying precision.

You barely had time to register what was happening.

His gun spun effortlessly in his grip, taking down targets before they could even charge. He weaved between attacks, moving in impossible patterns.

And when one particularly large beast lunged at him, he stepped forward. The monster’s claws slashed through the air, and Boothill was already inside its reach. The barrel of his gun pressed against its jaw, his reticle-marked gaze never wavering.

BANG.

The creature collapsed instantly.

He casually blew the smoke from his gun, turning back to you like he hadn’t just humiliated the entire dungeon.

“Well?” He tipped his hat. “How’s that for a trial?”

“…Yeah. Okay. You’re good.”

Boothill chuckled, holstering his gun with an easy twirl. “Good?” He shook his head, stepping closer. “Darlin’, I ain’t just good. I’m the best *** partner you could ask for.”

“What? I think there are words I couldn't hear.”

He looked like he was mad, but then he got back to normal. Then, his fingers tapped lightly against your chin—brief, teasing, before he pulled away.

Boothill had proved himself to you. And you're pleased with the result.

The night started simple. A casual gathering, a few drinks with friends, nothing Boothill should’ve had a problem with.

Except Boothill was Boothill.

The moment he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and hat tipped just low enough to shadow his eyes, you knew he wasn’t about to let you drink much.

“Easy there, sugar,” he murmured, tapping the rim of your glass before you could down it. “Ain’t no sense in drownin’ yourself when you can just sip.”

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re acting like I don’t do this all the time.”

“Exactly,” Boothill said, slow and smooth. He smirked. “And I got the feelin’ you don’t do it well.”

Your friends laughed, and you huffed, but you let him have this win—at least for now.

What he didn’t notice was you sneaking extra drinks while he was distracted.

Or maybe he did notice. Maybe the twitch of his eye meant something when he saw you giggling at your own failed attempt to pour another shot. But he let it slide.

Somewhere between one too many drinks and the warm glow of festival lights, you wandered toward a small shooting game stall.

The rules were simple: hit enough targets, win enough points, trade for a prize.

A giant, soft teddy bear sat on display.

You wanted it.

Boothill, hands in his pockets, watched with vague amusement as you eagerly slapped down the payment and grabbed the fake gun.

Aiming felt harder than it should’ve.

You fired.

And missed.

Then missed again.

Then you hit one, but it didn’t count.

The stall owner, an older man with a thick mustache, laughed a little too smugly. “Tough luck, kid. Wanna go again?”

Your eyes narrowed. The gun’s sights were misaligned. The targets? Weighted.

This game was rigged.

You turned to Boothill, who had already figured it out.

He sighed. “Step aside, sweetheart.”

Boothill dropped a few coins onto the counter and took the gun with an easy, unbothered grip.

The stall owner paled.

Boothill didn’t even need to aim.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Every single target dropped instantly.

The owner hesitated before forcing a nervous grin. “Well, uh—looks like you won! Hah! Pick your prize!”

You pointed at the giant teddy bear with absolutely no shame.

Boothill exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but took the bear and turned to you. “Happy now?”

You beamed. Then, without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

It was quick, clumsy—drunken, but warm.

Boothill froze.

You didn’t notice. You were already hugging the teddy bear like it was the best thing in the world.

But Boothill stood still for just a second too long. His eyes flickered—something brief. Then, with a slow exhale, he grabbed your wrist.

“A’right, that’s enough trouble for one night” he murmured.

You barely had time to protest before Boothill hauled you up, teddy bear and all, and started dragging you home.

You remembered everything.

The warmth of the festival lights, the distant hum of laughter and chatter, the way the world had spun just a little too much after sneaking those extra drinks. You remembered the shooting game—the way the owner had rigged it, how Boothill had stepped up and effortlessly nailed every shot.

And, most of all, you remembered what you’d done after.

The press of your lips against his cheek.

A reward, you had called it, drunk and pleased with yourself. Boothill had gone still for just a moment, his usual drawl softening, just barely, before he muttered something under his breath and hoisted you up to drag you home.

Now, standing at the entrance of your next dungeon run, you risked a glance at him. He was leaning lazily against the checkpoint wall, arms crossed, hat tilted.

You weren’t sure if he knew that you remembered.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out.

But before you could think too much about it, someone else called out.

“Hey—hey, I remember you!”

You turned to see a man approaching, vaguely familiar from that night. He had the easy confidence of someone who thought they had a chance, smiling as he stopped just short of your space. “Didn’t get to talk to you much last time. I was about to ask you out, but you were too drunk.”

Before you could react, Boothill shifted beside you.

It wasn’t obvious at first—just a slow push off the wall, a lazy step forward. Then came the small things. The way his hand hovered just a little too close to the gun at his hip. The way his sharp grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That so?” Boothill’s voice was light, almost amused. “Guess it’s a good thing they had company, then.”

The man chuckled, missing the warning entirely. “Yeah, well, no harm done. You don’t seem too hungover today, so what do you say—”

“Y’know,” Boothill cut in smoothly, tapping the side of his gun holster, “interestin’ thing about folks who don’t know when to quit. They tend to learn the hard way.”

The man’s laughter faded, brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

Boothill smiled, all sharp teeth and something just a little too cold. “Nothin’. Just chattin’.”

“Uh…right. Maybe another time.”

You watched him walk away, only realizing in hindsight that the whole exchange had felt off.

“Guess we oughta get goin’, huh?” He tipped his hat up slightly. “Ain’t like the dungeon’s gonna clear itself.”

You hesitated, the weight of that moment still lingering, but eventually nodded. “…Yeah. Let’s go.”

By the time you got home, the tension from earlier had faded—mostly.

You stood in the kitchen, focused on prepping dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables filling the quiet air. The dungeon run had gone well, and despite Boothill’s usual antics, nothing had seemed off, at least, not until that moment at the entrance.

You were lost in thought when you felt it—an arm draping over your shoulder.

“You got a real sneaky way of sayin’ thanks, sugar.”

Your knife almost slipped.

Boothill’s voice was low, just by your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His arms looped around your waist, casual but firm, and when you turned your head slightly, you caught the edges of his sharp grin.

“What—?”

“That little stunt ya pulled at the festival.” His hold tightened just enough to make you pause. “Didn’t think I’d let that slide, did ya?”

“I—”

“You remember, don’tcha?” His voice lilted, slow, knowing.

Your face felt warm, the memory flashing back in perfect clarity—your drunken self, all giddy and bold, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Boothill chuckled, the sound low and pleased. “Ain’t often ya get the drop on me. Had to think on how to pay ya back proper.”

Your hands were still hovering over the cutting board, caught between finishing dinner and escaping this whole conversation. “…So this is revenge?”

“Mm.” His arms tightened slightly, his chin resting against your shoulder. “Somethin’ like that.”

There was a pause, a beat too long, before he added, “Didn’t hate it, y’know.”

Boothill pulled back before you could react, his usual teasing smirk settling back into place. “Food’s gonna burn if ya keep starin’ off like that.”

You turned back to the stove quickly, ears burning. “Shut up.”

Boothill just laughed, stepping back—but not before ruffling your hair, a satisfied glint in his eyes.

You had a feeling this wasn’t the last time he’d bring it up.

Boothill had nailed the last dungeon so cleanly that you barely had to lift a finger. It was impressive—the way he moved, the way he handled things like he was born for it.

It also meant that now, he was getting ideas.

"Don't see much point in draggin' you along, sugar" Boothill said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "I got this handled."

You raised a brow. "You're trying to solo now?"

"Wouldn't call it tryin’ when I already did." He tipped his hat back slightly, grey eyes gleaming. "No need to split the points if I go alone. Might as well make things easy."

You clicked your tongue but didn’t argue. He had a point.

So, with Boothill off doing his thing, you had the rest of the day to yourself.

Later that evening, you were at the marketplace, chatting with some friends while picking up a few supplies.

The conversation was light, easy, and one of them had just started to offer you a hand carrying your bags when a familiar presence made itself known.

"Now, that don’t seem necessary."

The drawl slid into the conversation like a well-placed bullet.

One of them hesitated. "Oh, we were just—"

"Helpin’?" Boothill finished, stepping in with an easy, lopsided smile. "Mighty kind of ya, but I got it covered."

Your friend glanced between you two, clearly debating whether to push back. You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in Boothill’s stance, or the way his fingers idly tapped against the belt of bullets at his hip, but they seemed to think better of it.

"Right. Well, see you around then."

With that, your friends made a polite but quick exit.

You turned to Boothill with an exasperated sigh. "Really?"

He just grinned, stepping closer to take your bags from your hands. "What? Ain't nothin' wrong with givin’ my partner a hand, now is there?"

The words rolled off his tongue like a casual remark, but you caught the weight behind them.

You shook your head, deciding to let it slide for now. "C’mon, let's get home."

Boothill fell into step beside you, his smirk lingering like the promise of trouble yet to come.

You didn’t expect to hear Boothill’s name today—not like this.

When your friend mentioned a fight breaking out near the market, your stomach dropped. They didn’t know the details, just that someone wasn't holding back. And the moment they said white hair, a red scarf, and a revolver that never missed… you knew.

You ran. And now, standing at the edge of an alley, you wish you hadn’t come.

Bodies lay slumped against the walls, some groaning, others too dazed to move. The scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mixing with the sharp tang of dust and sweat. At the center of it all stands Boothill, unbothered, unhurried. His gun still smokes, his gloved fingers spinning it lazily before holstering it at his hip.

He looks up at you.

“Well now, look who finally showed up.”

His voice is easy, like this is normal, like he wasn’t just standing over men who can’t even pick themselves up.

“Boothill… what the hell did you do?”

His grin stretches. "Handled it."

You take a step forward, fists clenching. “That doesn’t explain anything. Why are they—”

He tilts his head. "Y’know, sugar, you oughta be thankin’ me."

"These fine gentlemen?" Boothill gestures toward the ones still groaning on the ground. "Thought they could get a little too cozy with you. Offer a hand, offer a ride—hell, offer more than that."

His smirk remains, but there’s something colder beneath it.

"Problem is, they were lyin’ to get advantages from you."

Your brows furrow. "Lying? What do you mean?"

Boothill scoffs, tipping his hat back slightly as he watches your face. "Oh, sugar, you really don’t see it, do ya?"

He steps closer, voice dropping just enough that it feels like a secret only meant for you.

"They weren’t bein’ nice. They were testin’ ya." His hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Seeing how much they could push. How much they could take."

"They wanted to help me with my things—"

Boothill hums. "Did they now? Or did they wanna use that as an excuse to get you alone?" He tilts his head. "Tell me, sugar. You ever noticed how they only offer when no one else is around?"

Your mouth opens—to argue, to deny it—but then the doubt creeps in.

Had they?

Now that you think about it… one of them had asked you to "drop by his place" after work once. Another kept pushing drinks on you at the party. And another—

Boothill watches the realization flicker across your face, and his smirk deepens.

"Half the things they said were true," he admits, voice smooth. "The other half? Just twisted enough to keep you from seein' the knife behind their backs."

"How do you know all this?"

His eyes gleam under the shadow of his hat. "‘Cause I see things you don’t, sugar."

"And I ain't about to let nobody take advantage of you. Not while I'm around."

He sounds so sure. So convincing.

And you believe him.

You glance at the men still on the ground, groaning but unable to do much else. Your fists unclench, tension slowly bleeding from your shoulders.

Boothill notices. He always does.

His hand extends toward you "Let’s go home, darlin’."

This time, you don’t hesitate.

You place your hand in his.

And just before he turns away, Boothill glances back at the men with a victorious smirk.

A silent message, clear as day—I won.

Then, with your fingers still laced in his, he leads you away.

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #heliosluckyegg

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anyshowwitharainbow · 2 months ago

Text

Cooties (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary:

You've got COOTIES! AKA: You're sick and you loathe it. Don't worry, though! Rio and Agatha will take perfect care of you. That's what loving, doting partners are for. One of them is even a doctor! Your marriage to the two of them is like Allstate: you're in good hands.

A line to entice you:

“Behave, bunny. Don’t forget she needs this just as much as you do.”

Warnings + Tags: 18+ MDNI, fluff and smut, sick!reader, caring Agatha and Rio, Rio g!p, bottom reader, mommy!Agatha, daddy!Rio, cg/l themes, no mention of pronouns except 1-2 'they's, clit/pussy/cunt used for reader, pet names

Words: 5.4k

A/N: I bet you couldn't guess this...I'm sick and in a court of law I will blame cold & flu meds for the creation of this fic. This is my first x Reader fic- so be gentle! I write 800% for fun and I will make edits as I catch the need for them. Feel free to comment anything you see that needs to be edited! (I'm sick, I promise there will be some errors...pretend they're endearing...)

AO3 | My Fics | pt 2 | pt 3

Cooties

You are pissed.

You feel like shit, and you’re pissed about it.

Less than 48 hours ago you started to feel a dull aching in your back that you tried to write off as stiffness. Shortly after, when your throat constricted painfully when trying to swallow, you knew you were in for. Rio clocked the impending illness rather quickly.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Rio’s tone was gentle, but cautious. Too cautious.

“I’m fine, Rio.” You snapped. If Rio’s eyes doubling in size was any indication then your bark must’ve carried its bite.

“Right,” Rio drawled, “so is this an emotional grouchy or a physical grouchy?”

“Neither,” You rolled your eyes at how easy it was for Rio to breeze past your harshness.

It only took a tilt of Rio’s head to earn a heavy sigh of defeat from you.

“I think I’m getting fucking sick.” You mumbled through an unabashed pout, your anger rapidly deflating under Rio’s attention.

“Oh, I see,” Rio coaxed, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Rio’s arms wrapped you in warmth and a gentle kiss on the forehead followed.

As Rio pulled away, you grimaced at the look of concern you found etched into her features.

“You do feel warm,” Rio confirmed, cementing your fate.

“Noooooo,” you whined, burying your head in your hands.

“Hush,” Rio soothed while prying your hands away from your face, “None of that.”

That was just last night, but it seemed like an eternity since Rio had rummaged through the medicine cabinet for some ‘preventative’ treatment.

She had proudly presented a small cup full of purple-ish liquid and a few pills of varying sizes. When you hesitated to relieve her of the bounty of medicine she brought you, she rolled her eyes.

“Seriously? If I was going to poison you I would’ve done it by now,” she reasoned, clearly unimpressed with you.

“It’s not that,” you croaked plainly through your growing congestion, “We do happen to know a doctor though. Should we maybe wait for her recommended course of treatment?”

Rio analyzed you with equal parts suspicion and humor. Her annoyance carried little weight, but she maintained her rouse of offense just the same. You couldn’t handle the hurt, even fueled by jest, that tore at you from deeply brown eyes.

“Fine. I’ll take the mystery drugs. Can you get me something to get the taste out of my mouth?” You had mostly trained yourself out of your gag reflex, but liquid medicine always served to remind you had one. Your stomach felt queasy just thinking about downing the thick, syrupy, mentholated liquid.

As soon as Rio exited the bedroom to retrieve you something with a stronger flavor than the medicine, you hurriedly grabbed your phone.

Aggie 💜

You: Hypothetically, if I started feeling crummy 2 days ago and now feel like I got hit by a bus…would I need to take a purple liquid, a gel capsul, a white pill that’s the size of my face, and a pill that looks like a little red m&m?

Three gray dots danced for a few seconds before disappearing. They reappeared for a split second before Agatha’s contact photo appeared from an incoming FaceTime call. You had barely pressed ‘accept’ before Agatha began pressing you for answers.

“You know better than to not tell me when you aren’t feeling well,” she admonished through the phone.

She was nestled into a too-well lit hallway that looked to be the definition of sterile. Her hair was up in a ponytail and youl noticed the dark circles that settled under her eyes. She looked tired- so, so tired. Guilt didn’t have much time to eat away at you before she continued.

“When did your symptoms start? Are you running a fever? Where’s Rio? I need to know what she’s trying to drug you with.”

“I’m fine, Aggie.” your voice gave out halfway through her name and she gave you her best unimpressed face.

“Yeah? Then why do you sound like Steve-O swallowed a frog?” Her comeback was punctuated by a laugh from the doorway.

You groan when your eyes land on Rio sauntering toward you with a Diet Coke and an assortment of your favorite snacks. The last thing you needed, on what was surely your deathbed, was getting tag teamed.

“Good one, babe,” Rio calls to the phone before her eyes landed on you, “Steve-O the Snitch has a nice ring to it.”

“Almost as good as Dr. Vidal.” Agatha’s look was pointed and it melted the smirk off of Rio’s face in an unprecedented amount of time.

“I channeled you, Dr. Harkness. Want me to show you the bottles?” Rio laughed, but Agatha didn’t.

“Yes, actually.” both you and Rio waited to see if she was joking. She was not.

“Yeah, okay,” Rio conceded and grabbed your phone before swiftly exiting the room.

You could only make out a few words before their voices were too far to hear. From what you could tell, Agatha was accepting Rio’s compliments on her description of your voice.

They’d both pay for their smugness. One day…when you didn’t feel like you might die. You threw your head back against the pillows which only served to make you dizzy from the quick movement. You mourned the times you took a non-stuffy nose and a clear chest for granted. Your wallowing-in-pity was interrupted by the soft patter of Rio’s footsteps coming toward you. A sigh of relief escaped you when you heard Agatha through your phone.

Good, you thought. You wanted the chance to tell her goodbye. An ache buried itself in your chest. Agatha had been at the hospital for almost 72 hours and you missed her. Your rapidly on-setting illness only heightened the ache and you felt your throat constrict against the swelling emotions.

“Cleared for take off, bunny,” Agatha announced when Rio handed your phone back to you. “Rio just needs to take your temperature first then you can take the meds. You need rest- so no reading or scrolling or whatever you choose to do until 1 AM. Understood?”

From beyond your phone, Rio made a face to poke fun at Agatha’s intensity. When you chuckled, Agatha spoke far more gently, but still firmly.

“I mean it, love. You won’t get better if you don’t give your body time to fight whatever has a hold on you. The meds are going to try and knock you out. Will you be good for me and not fight it?”

The gentle prodding and soothing of Agatha’s tone turned you into putty. You were becoming more and more pliable and cared less and less about fighting it off. As if she could read your mind, Rio settled into the bed next to you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ve got our little fighter, Dr. Harkness,” Rio said surely, “They’ll be good. I’ll make sure of it.” Rio’s voice dipped lower and you felt her hand reach down and give you a soft pinch on your side.

“I have no doubt,” Agatha feigned uncertainty, but you both could see a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Behave- both of you. When I get home in a few hours you both better be asleep.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Rio chuckled before reaching for the phone to end the call. “We both love you very dearly. Have a good rest of your shift, be nice to the interns, goodbye!” Rio rushed, likely in an effort to rile Agatha up.

“And clothed! Rio, I mean—” Agatha’s frantic final words were cut short when Rio tapped the ‘end’ button. She chuckled conspiratorially before setting your phone on the headboard and turning her full attention toward you.

“You think she’ll come home early just to kill me?” Rio teased, fishing a thermometer out of the pocket of her joggers.

“If she comes home early it’ll be to check on me. Killing you would be an afterthought.” Your smugness had its intended result and Rio’s jaw fell open in offense.

“Open up, you little shit.” She chuckled with you before nestling the thermometer under your tongue and tapping a finger under your chin so you’d close your mouth around it.

You let her give you the medicine and help you sip on the Diet Coke she had brought. After putting on a movie you’d both seen way too many times, you fell asleep halfway through the pack of sour gummy worms she slowly fed you one by one while she softly scratched your scalp.

Now, you wince at the small bit of light that peaks around the edges of the blackout blinds that line the bedroom windows. The same hands that soothed you to sleep offer you more medicine and your favorite bottle filled with, presumably, fresh water. When Rio raises a finger to her lips to indicate you should be quiet, you become aware of the warm weight nestled into your back and thrown over your side. Agatha is home.

You nod your understanding to Rio and quickly take the meds. Your entire body aches and you feel like you’ve been water boarded. An uncomfortable amount of weight is pressing into your skull and you're sure your head could explode. Still, the pressure can’t dim the tinge of excitement you feel now that Agatha is finally home. You skillfully down the pills with a silent swig of water. Fueled by the subtle pride in Rio’s eyes, you throw back the shot of liquid medicine like you were 19 again at a bar that never ID’d.

This proves to be a mistake as the iciness of the syrup hits the back of your throat. You grimace and your lungs falter as you try to out-will the need to choke, gag, or do anything but swallow the medicine that was quickly coating every corner of your mouth. Rio mouths ‘swallow’ and you focus all of your energy on following the order. This focus is stolen when a familiar shushing meets your ear.

“Relax, baby,” Agatha mumbles through sleep, “Un-tense your shoulders. Breathe as much as you can through your nose.”

You let her instructions will your actions. Your shoulders fall and stay relaxed even when Rio giggles at the whistling noise your nose makes when you try to breathe through it.

“Now swallow,” Agatha groggily coaxes.

You comply effortlessly and in the haze of stuffiness and recent slumber you're mesmerized by the sure comfort the woman holding on to you provides.

“Good, bunny. Now come here.” The pet name cements your headspace and you help her turn your body towards her.

Her eyes remain shut, and your heart flutters at the easy confidence she cares for you with. She doesn't need to rouse from her place of sleep to settle you down. Agatha never has to make you feel safe, because when she is near safe is all you are. This truth sings sweetly as she nestles you under her chin and plants her lips softly on your forehead. She grunts before sliding her hands up the back of your t-shirt and holding you as closely as she can.

“You have a fever,” She lazily declares before you wiggle a leg in between hers, aiming to get impossibly closer. “The medicine will help soon. Rest your eyes, bun.”

You would prefer to stare at how peace is settled into all of her features. The small, relaxed lines earned from years of laughter, worry, and joy begin to blur as your eyelids feel heavier and heavier. You move to match her by sliding your hands up her vastly oversized shirt. As your hands travel up to find her back you can’t help but to give her ass a light squeeze on the way. This earns you a small chuckle before the feeling of Agatha’s cool skin and her gentle caresses on your back lull you back to sleep.

The next time you wake, your throat is painfully dry and Agatha’s presence is noticeably vacant. You grunt before stirring, grumbling through words that aren’t fully forming yet.

“I like the way you think.” Rio chuckles at your grumbles as she finishes the paragraph she is reading and marks her place for later. “Tell me more, mi corazoncito.”

“Everything hurts,” You groan, “If you’re secretly death, you can take me now. Put me out of my misery.”

“I would never,” Rio feigns offense, “not when you don’t say please.”

Her smile is replaced with the shape of an offered kiss. It is unclear whether the growing dizziness is due to your illness or the pillowy lips that lazily meet yours.

“Don’t wanna get you sick,” you croak as you push against her shoulder.

“Hush. I’m death remember? I’ve come to take you,” Rio offers suggestively.

Before you can respond to her antics, another voice breaks through the remnants of the quiet barrier left from the morning.

“Trying to seduce our patient, Dr. Vidal?” Agatha questions with a raised brow from the doorway.

“Trying would imply that I’m not succeeding,” Rio smirks and you roll your eyes. You aren’t opposed. For some reason, being sick makes you feel extra needy and you’ve always been prone to trying everything you can to get one or both of them inside of you.

You do, however, want to shower first. You figure your fever broke twice as you feel damp but also layered with the remnants of older sweat.

“You are not succeeding because someone needs a bath,” Agatha’s eyes playfully dare Rio to challenge her and she continues when it looks like Rio might, “The real doctor is ordering a bath. Keep your cock away from our patient or I’ll order a cage for our little friend.”

The snickering that escapes you throws you into a coughing fit and Rio looks torn between concern for you and offense at Agatha. Once you recover and they are certain you are getting enough oxygen Agatha goes to the connected bathroom to run the previously prescribed bath. Imagining the warm water soothing your muscles is much more enticing than the thought of hauling yourself out of the bed.

Rio answers a request you never verbalize when she effortlessly hoists you into her arms and begins carrying you to the bath. She stops after a few steps and her eyebrows furrow.

“Did she just call my dick little?” She looks into your eyes earnestly and you know she is waiting hopefully for your laughter. You don’t make her wait for long.

After the incredible bath you still feel dull, but somewhat rejuvenated. You are able to stomach a hearty portion of soup and crackers and you reel in the murmurs of approval and praise from both Agatha and Rio. Though you still feel the weight of your congestion, your body aches far less than it had this morning.

Now, you are sprawled out between Agatha and Rio on the couch. Your head is in Agatha’s lap and Rio sits underneath your thighs. Their hands lay entwined on your stomach and you find the way Rio’s thumb brushes over Agatha’s hand in time with the gentle massaging Rio gives your thighs much more interesting than whatever was on TV. The three of you aren’t often able to lounge around for an entire day doing absolutely nothing and you relish in the peace that surrounds you.

Your need for closeness begins to swell and suddenly laying on the two women isn’t quite enough. Before the nibbling of the inside of your cheek can become noticeable you begin to draw lazy patterns over Agatha’s tummy. She quirks a brow, but makes no move to stop you or look down at you. You let your finger drag a line on her t-shirt over the underside of her breast before you trace what you assume is her areola. Your finger catches on a quickly budding nipple and Agatha inhales sharply.

When your eyes flick to hers you find far more need than you thought you would. You remember, all at once, that while Agatha worked her 72 hour shift she missed you and Rio just as much as you both missed her. The concern she expressed when she found out you were sick wasn’t surprising, but the way she’d clung to you since she got home and carefully watched over you now makes you realize how much not being able to care for you while on her shift must have affected her.

Agatha’s hand unlaces from Rio’s and caresses your cheek. Your breath hitches as she lifts her shirt and scoots down just enough to where if you turn your head you’ll have easy access to her nipples. You feel your face burn red when you feel Rio’s newly free hand sneak under your shirt and rub your stomach just above your underwear.

“I think Mommy wants to make you feel better, bunny.” Rio speaks lowly and it makes your stomach tighten under her touch.

Rio scoots closer and your ass now rests fully in her lap. You feel her bulge poking against where your ass meets your thighs and you clench around a painful nothingness. You meet Agatha’s eyes, asking permission, and she coaxes you closer to her chest.

“Daddy’s right, baby. See, because I’m your Mommy I have special superpowers. I was worried about you before you even texted me. There was something in my body that just wouldn’t settle quite right.” She continues to stroke your cheek as she speaks, “One of my residents asked me a question and I didn’t even hear it. He repeated himself three times before I had to tell him to bug off.”

Your smirk at imagining Agatha looking at the resident like he had three heads is matched by a chuckle from Rio.

“Bohner?” Rio asks, knowingly.

“Had to be Bohner,” you confirm before looking back at Agatha for confirmation.

Ever the show woman, she relishes in making you both wait. After a beat of silence she relents.

“It was Bohner,” She smirks, clearly enjoying her ability to play to her favorite audience, “But as I was saying…my superpowers mean I can feel what you need.”

Her eyes pool with lust and its hard to feel anything but the weight of her attention.

“It makes me need you too. Can you be good for us, baby?”

You nod and let yourself be guided to one of Agatha’s nipples. She lets out a guttural moan when you begin lapping and nipping at her. You don’t unlatch until Rio’s cock rubbing you through your underwear makes you gasp.

‘You’re so fucking wet,” Rio speaks in equal parts awe and lust, “Daddy forgot how needy your body gets when you’re sick.”

Agatha’s body jerks beneath you and you realize she is touching herself. Rio must realize too, because she grunts and bucks her hips. Her cock is nestled against your cunt and poking out from in between your thighs. You try your best to gain more friction to no avail.

“Mommy must like watching Daddy rub against your pussy, bunny. Be quiet now, let’s see if we can hear how wet Mommy is for us.”

Agatha groans and shifts. The sudden squelching makes it clear she has moved from her clit to fingering herself. You let out a pathetic whine and your strained voice isn’t louder than the raunchy, wet noises coming from Agatha’s cunt.

“Fuck, Mommy.” You groan and the noises only get louder and faster.

Her eyes fall to you and you’ve never seen her more hungry and wanton. She shushes you and guides you back to her nipple.

“That’s it, baby. You make Mommy feel so good. Mommy’s going to cum for you and then help Daddy make you feel good, okay? Just keep going—” Agatha cuts herself off with a loud moan.

“Fuck, Aggie. I bet you’re going to squirt for us. The only time your cunt sounds that greedy is when it wants to put on a show.” Rio’s cock is so close to your clit. If she just pressed up a little further… “What do you think, bun? Do you want to see Mommy make a mess for us?”

“Mommy’s going to cum for you both. Turn around, baby. Watch Mommy fuck herself.” Agatha is panting through her commands, “You’re so good for me. Letting Daddy fuck your thighs while I make myself feel good. I can’t wait until these fingers are making you feel good too. Maybe I’ll use my cum to make sure Daddy’s cock is nice and wet for you, hmm? Is that you want, bunny? Daddy fucking you full of her and Mommy’s cum?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you whine. “Please cum for me.”

“Tell me you need it, bunny.” Agatha’s demand sounds dangerously close to a plea and you are certain Rio can feel your cunt throb.

“I need your cum, Mommy. I need you.” You know you sound pathetic, especially through your floaty, congested stupor.

You feel wetness smear on your thigh and realize Rio is leaking precum. This realization doesn’t have time to melt your insides because your eyes catch the frantic movement of Agatha’s hand as she fucks into herself. You're surprised to find every finger but her thumb buried deeply in herself.

It doesn’t take much longer for Agatha to explode. A near-silent scream is punctuated by a yelp and then the soft patter of liquid falling across the coffee table and floor. Your head falls with Agatha’s rapid breathing and you figure you’d be content to stay here forever. Rio, however, has other plans.

She scoots out from under your legs and towers over you before leaning down and giving Agatha a soft kiss that teeters on hungry.

“You should let us watch you fuck yourself more often,” Rio teases before pulling away from Agatha. “That was fucking hot.”

“I’ll consider it. Take this one to bed, please.” Agatha looks down at you and smiles when you begin to fuss at the idea of moving. “None of that, bunny. I’m coming too, don’t worry.”

With her promise, you allow Rio to hoist you into her arms and cart you off to bed. Agatha is close behind, a familiar brown bag in tow. As soon as Rio settles you down onto the bed, you clock Agatha’s slight demeanor change. You don’t dream of complaining because seeing your wife in doctor mode was hot.

You let her check your pulse with the thin analog watch that sat on her wrist- face turned inward. You memorize the path of the small furrow in her brow as she concentrates. She pulls her stethoscope out of her bag and she attempts to pull you upwards so she can access your back. When a groan escapes you, Rio tuts and Agatha lets her take over moving you.

“Hush, bunny. Let Mommy listen.” Agatha lulls, unfazed by your fussing.

You comply, stifling a hiss at the cold of the stethoscope on the bare skin of your back. When Rio chuckles at your displeasure, you give her your best scowl that melts away as she places a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Big breath in,” Agatha instructs.

Rio holds her forehead to yours and takes a deep breath in, in time with your own. Each time Agatha further instructs ‘again’, Rio breathes with you. It is meditative to a point where as Agatha’s hand retreats from under the back of your shirt you find yourself disappointed.

The stethoscope is safely tucked back in Agatha’s medical bag and she produces a thermometer next. Rio is peppering your lips and cheeks with soft, pillowy kisses so you try to wave Agatha away. Her brow raises, silently asking if this is truly the hill you want to try and die on.

Either Rio has eyes in the back of her head or she knows you both too well because you feel her breathy chuckle as her lips move to your neck. She plants a kiss on the shell of your ear before whispering to you.

“Behave, bunny. Don’t forget she needs this just as much as you do.”

Rio is right. Health is Agatha’s area of expertise and she won’t be satisfied until she can tangibly prove to herself that, while you are sick, you are okay. You bite down on your lip at the feelings that threaten to bubble over at being so cared for that it impacts these two incredible women so much. Before you have the chance to comply, Agatha speaks up.

“I don’t like it when you two conspire,” she grumbles through squinted eyes. “I can always get the thermometer that goes up your—”

“NO! Look, wide open. See?” you frantically offer your open mouth, not missing the way Rio's eyes linger there for a moment too long for it to be considered wholly innocent.

Both women chuckle at you and share a knowing look. The way they can communicate without sharing any words threatens to burst your chest. You are feeling so much that trying to sort through it all was overwhelming. The loudest feeling screeching through your body is a wanton need for closeness. You need both of them. All of them. Everywhere. All at once. Rather than whine, you know the fastest way to get what you want is to continue complying.

Rio takes the thermometer from Agatha’s hand and sets it gently under your tongue.

“Close up, buttercup,” she coaches.

Agatha rolls her eyes at the rhyming and you give your best unimpressed look.

“Tough crowd,” Rio hums to herself, not even remotely put off by the lack of outward appreciation.

You are constantly in envy and awe at the sureness Rio meets life with. Sometimes, you are certain she has been dropped from another planet to observe and assess the one you share. Every interaction seems to be processed as new data to add to her understanding of the world around her. As a result, others thoughts and reactions to her own hardly ever cause her any sort of grievance. The only path for Rio is being every ounce of herself, and she is perfect.

Through your dreamy gaze that casts tiny, floating hearts around Rio’s head, you miss Agatha climbing into bed behind you. Right as the thermometer beeps Rio quickly retrieves it. You hadn’t even had time to make yourself cross eyed trying to read the number on the small screen. Rio quickly shows the number to Agatha, who only nodds her head to signal that Rio could put it away.

Part of you wants to know what your temperature was, another part of you is content with it being information you don’t need to worry about. If you need to worry, Agatha or Rio will let you know. Everything else you know they will take care of. With Agatha behind you, her legs on either side of you, and Rio gently pushing you back so you fully rest into Agatha- you feel fuzzy and warm. You are safe. You are cared for. You are loved.

As Agatha’s nails gently scratch up and down your arms, Rio quickly rids herself of her briefs. All three of you remain in oversized, worn t-shirts that have seen better days. When she settles in between your legs you squeak when you feel the staunch hardness of her cock nestle against your center.

“We love you so much, bunny,” Rio breathes in a whisper, gently rocking against you. “We’re so sorry you don’t feel well.”

“That’s right,” Agatha hums. “We can’t make it go away, but we know what your body is asking for.”

Agatha’s hand settles over your heart and the intimacy of her touch and the intensity of Rio’s gaze causes your breath to stutter.

“See, it’s part of my superpowers, you know?” Agatha continues, “It’s my job to know that when you feel icky because you’re sick it makes what’s in here louder.”

Agatha taps on your chest a few times to signify what ‘here’ is. Rio punctuates the movement by placing a tender kiss on each visible vein that runs through Agatha’s hand that's now settled back over your heart.

“If you had it your way I bet you’d want us to tote you around all day. On our hip, in a carrier, whatever meant you were nestled right against us the entire day.” You could hear the knowing smile that forms Agatha’s words. You feel your cheeks burn hot at being so known.

“You just need us close, right, bunny?” Rio speaks softly from her place above you and you whimper when her cock catches the edge of your underwear and meets your slick folds.

“Oh, God, Aggie. Our little bunny is soaked. You really do need us, don’t you?” Rio turns her attention back to you before taking a breath to steady herself.

Agatha presses a kiss to the top of your head and throws an arm across your chest, holding you near. Her other hand tenderly meets Rio’s face and their lips meet in a loving, languid kiss. There is no urgency in their movements. You all have forever to share this moment. An unspoken certainty of such echoes in the air around you before Agatha's low voice meets your ears again.

“Daddy’s going to give you everything you need, baby. Are you ready to take her? I’ll be right here.”

You nod your head, but Rio makes no movement to enter you. Only when you feel Agatha give a nod does Rio fully push the fabric that conceals you aside to sink herself deep within you.

You whimper at the sudden fullness and your eyes are entranced by Rio’s needy gaze. Agatha gently shushes you while peppering kisses on the top of your head.

“Good, bunny.” Agatha coaches, “That’s all you needed wasn’t it? For Mommy to hold you while Daddy fucked your pretty little pussy?”

Words are beyond you- you know nothing but the feeling of being doted and loved upon and the fullness that makes your belly bloom.

“We’ve got a pro on our hands- taking you so well.” Agatha feeds Rio’s thrusts with her words. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Making our little bunny feel better with your cock?”

Rio’s eyes screw shut and her head falls to your shoulder. She turns her head slightly so she can kiss your neck. It doesn’t take long before the kisses turn into pants and moans.

“Daddy, I need more.”

You pant in time with her thrusts. She nestles her hands under your hips and somehow is able to reach even deeper inside of you. You aren’t sure if its the medicine or if Rio is just that good, but you see stars. If you're honest its probably both.

You hear praise and cooing coming from both Agatha and Rio, but what they're saying is lost on you. Your body is only focused on how it feels to be consumed by Rio and enveloped by Agatha. You feel the thrusts begin to rut even deeper and know Rio is close.

“Please, Daddy. Cum in me. I need to feel you. Please, please, please. Give me your cum.”

You are a mess and you know it. You don’t always love to beg, but there is nothing else you want to do in this moment. The way you are needed just as much as you need breaks everything inside you. The only thing you are is theirs. And they are yours.

You feel dizzy, but coherent. Before you know it you are full of cum and Rio has switched places with Agatha who is now gently lapping at your folds. The moans coming from her chest are filthy and you could ascend into heaven when you see her use her tongue to move Rio’s cum up to your clit and coat you with it before giving you a wet, purposeful suck.

Rio is whispering filthy nothings into your ear: Mommy looks so good tasting my cum from you, baby. Look at how worked up you made, Mommy. You’re so good, bunny. I can tell you’re close…cum for us, mi amor.

Between her consistent stream of words that reach you in all of the right places and Agatha’s skillful tongue that knows exactly what you need and where you need it- you are somehow even more of a mess than you were with Rio inside of you.

You reach your peak at an earth shattering intensity. Once you come down, you do your best to comply anytime you hear an instruction. Despite your best efforts everything quickly becomes fuzzy before you drift into a deep, satisfied slumber.

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beemovieerotica · 1 month ago

Note

beloved fiber king,

as i once more waste 20 (very painful) minutes of my day on the throne of doom, humbled, I come for your wisdom

is there anything we ought to know abt what fiber sources get absorbed the most? I used to take packet supplements that i would mix with half a glass of apple juice (as that was the least brain-effort way my gastro doc could recommend me), but now i worry if that is financially less efficient than other methods, and times are as they are

what are your thoughts, o wise king

main thing is that you're getting fiber during a meal. having any volume of food in your stomach will slow digestion and make sure that fiber gets absorbed. same is true of any vitamin or supplement, which is why the labels always say take with a meal or milk.

psyllium powder + liquid isn't ideal on an empty stomach, because liquid runs through you faster, and compliance generally isn't good because the powder tastes bad. it really does make the texture of drinks weird. i don't like turning my drinks into slop. it makes sense that you dropped it.

recs with links under the cut

if you're fine with swallowing pills, the humble psyllium capsule can go a long way

$10 for 200 caps. or $20 for 500 caps. cheapest form of fiber out there that tastes like nothing. sure, they're only about 2g of fiber per serving, but it's all about the little, consistent changes, you know? it's better if someone can make the habit of taking a few tiny pills a day at dinner without even thinking, versus having to psych yourself up every time you need to drink a big lukewarm slushie of fiber. small steps.

$8 for half a kilo that lasts me well over a month.

i do swear by chia seeds because 1) they also taste like nothing, 2) they're pretty cheap, and 3) only change is adding a crunchy texture if you eat them fast, and a boba-like texture if you wait, which most people are fine with.

sprinkle on whatever cereal you eat every morning, yogurt, or make smoothies with it. i'll also throw it into pancakes and cookies if i do those.

$8 for 15 bars

fiber bars are probably the next cheapest route before we get to actual fresh fruit and veg, and unfortunately amazon does have the lowest price on this one. the fiber one brand does a lot of high-fiber snacks, and they're worth checking out. i like them because they have chocolate and actually taste good, plus 9g is a lot of fiber.

getting into "real foods" but still don't have access to good fresh produce - nuts dot com is actually a lifesaver for getting bulk nut products. for non-allergy havers, this is a great source of fiber with lots of varieties & flavors to try out to find what works for you (salty, sweet, spicy, etc). they do a lot of promotions and discounts, so keep your eye out.

after this point, you get into fruits / berries as your big fiber providers. apples are pretty easy and cheap, berries taste good but holy fuck they're expensive. but yeah, find one or two small things to try out, and develop a habit first before making sweeping changes to your diet that may not stick. let me know in the notes if anyone has other recs.

#fiberposting

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capuccinodoll · 8 months ago

Text

The Confession

Before the sun hits (chapter five)

Summary: Joel wants to know more about your dream, and he might make it come true.

You walked down the stairs humming the last tune that had spun through your mind in the shower—China Girl by Bowie. The song’s notes lingered on your lips, a little offbeat, but it didn’t matter. The warmth of the shower still clung to your skin, and you realized just how much you’d needed that heat until it washed over you, easing the tension you hadn’t known you were holding. Even though the rumbling thunder outside made you tense up a little, the cascade of water had been a comfort, like a temporary escape.

Bundled up in your favorite lounge clothes—pajama pants, a worn-in cotton T-shirt, and an oversized sweater that practically swallowed you—you made your way downstairs. The rain was still lashing against the roof, a steady downpour that filled the house with its rhythmic patter, creating an oddly soothing backdrop. When you reached the bottom floor, you wandered toward the living room window, curious about the storm. The sight outside surprised you; the sky was a swirling, tumultuous grey, like a Renaissance painting where the artist had chosen to convey the world's sadness through heavy, brooding clouds.

"Still afraid?" Joel’s voice came from somewhere behind you, and you jumped slightly. He had a way of sneaking up on you like that.

“No,” you shot back, spinning to face him, but the lie must have been obvious. He was standing just a bit too close, his smirk playful as he stepped back, but only by a few inches, leaving barely enough space to breathe.

“You sure?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Joel, sure,” you replied firmly, trying to hold onto your composure. But almost on cue, a loud crack of thunder split the air, and you flinched despite yourself, taking a small step back.

Joel's lips curled into a bemused smile, his eyes dancing with amusement that he was barely disguising with a frown. “Good Lord,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, get away from the window.”

You didn’t argue, following him to the couch, feeling like a child caught out. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you settled next to him, your arm brushing against his. Joel didn’t seem to mind. He sprawled out on the couch, grabbing the remote with an easy familiarity, and you took a seat beside him, closer than you probably should have been.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked, your voice bright with anticipation as you tilted your head, studying his profile.

He glanced at the TV screen, then turned toward you, and the sudden intensity of his gaze sent a jolt through you. It was like being seen, really seen, for a moment too long. He gestured toward the screen, where a reality show played, two women shouting and sobbing in a flurry of drama.

“Anything but this,” he muttered, a wrinkle of distaste crinkling his brow.

You reached over, and he let the remote pass into your hands, your fingers brushing briefly against his. You tried to ignore the way the touch made your pulse skip. As you navigated through streaming options, Joel watched you, his focus almost palpable.

When you reached your recently watched shows, Joel let out an exaggerated sigh. “Season twenty of Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Yes, why?” you replied with a smirk, arching an eyebrow.

He didn’t dignify the question with a response, instead pointing to a different movie thumbnail. “That one. Christine.”

You navigated to the film without protest, pressing play. The opening scenes filled the room with the familiar, grainy colors of ‘80s cinema. You’d always loved movies from that era—the way they captured the world with their hazy, saturated palettes, the oversized jackets, the neon lights. It all felt like a time capsule, a window into a different kind of life.

On screen, Arnie strutted around in his red jacket, exuding a cocky confidence.

“Look at that, what a beauty,” Joel mused, leaning a little closer to you. His voice had a warmth to it, a hint of something wistful. “I always wanted a Plymouth Fury, red and everything.”

“Everything? Possession included?” you quipped, looking up at him, catching his eye in the dim light. He shot you a side glance, his expression mildly irritated but also amused.

“Pay attention,” he replied, frowning.

You bit back a grin, turning your focus back to the screen. But you couldn’t help the small huff of frustration that escaped when the car’s dark influence on Arnie became more apparent.

Joel caught the sound, leaning toward you, his voice dropping into a low whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“That damn car,” you muttered, the edge in your voice belying your irritation.

“It’s just a movie,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You know that, right?”

“Oh, no shit, Joel. A movie?" You shot him a mock-serious look, and his mouth twitched, barely holding back a smile.

“Okay, smartass.”

A laugh bubbled up from your throat, surprising you both. Without thinking, you let your head rest on his shoulder, curling your legs up beneath you, and you felt him relax slightly under the weight of it. He didn’t move away; he didn’t make any snide comment. He just let you stay like that, the warmth of his body a quiet reassurance.

“Let me know if you’re hungry,” he said after a while, his voice breaking the silence.

“Why, are you going to cook for me?” you teased, your cheek pressing a little more firmly against his shoulder.

“If you behave,” he shot back, the words carrying a playful edge that sent a shiver through you. You looked up at him, letting your gaze drift to his lips for just a second too long.

“So scary,” you muttered, shifting against him. “Is Joel Miller a good cook?”

“I’ve received no complaints,” he replied, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was so close that the air seemed to thin between you, and something tightened in your chest.

“I have a discerning palate."

“I’ve seen you eat, sweetheart,” he said, a trace of a smirk playing on his lips. “I can handle you.”

The words hit differently, slipping through your defenses, and without thinking, you let a thought slip out as if it were nothing more than a whisper. “I know you can.”

Joel’s expression shifted, a shadow of something passing over his features. He took in the shift in your tone, the undercurrent of something you hadn’t meant to reveal. “Can I ask you a question?” you asked, suddenly emboldened by the intimacy of the moment.

“You know you can."

“Why did you agree to come to Canmore?”

He fell silent, staring at the screen without seeing it. His mouth tightened, as if he was weighing the words before giving them to you. For a moment, you thought maybe you’d overstepped. But then he spoke. “Have you met your dad?”

“Believe me, I did,” you answered with a dry laugh.

“He was... pretty persistent. I tried to say no, but Sarah disagreed. It was like they had a plan.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who does what he doesn’t want to,” you observed, trying to decipher him.

“Maybe. Most of the time. Not lately,” he said, his voice softer, almost introspective.

A knot formed in your chest. Did he regret being here? Was he just tolerating you? You lifted your head from his shoulder, turning to face him directly. He noticed, his brows knitting together as he took in the change in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, but your voice betrayed you. He shifted closer, studying your face, and the weight of his attention was impossible to ignore.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, Joel,” you said quietly, the words firmer than you felt. “I mean, today. Or any day.”

“I know,” he replied just as firmly. His gaze held yours, unflinching, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Just so you know,” you pressed on. “You’re not obligated to spend time with me.”

“I know,” he said again, but there was something else there, something you couldn’t quite name. “Are you trying to convince me to leave?”

“No, I’m just... letting you know.”

He exhaled slowly, a faint, wry smile pulling at his lips. “I’m not having a bad time, you know. Even if I have to put up with your sass.”

Relief washed over you, a warmth settling in your chest. You couldn’t help the small smile that slipped out. “You’re not the only one putting up with things, Joel.”

He arched a brow, leaning in even closer, his voice dropping. “Enlighten me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his words carrying a challenge that made your pulse stutter. You could feel the heat between you, an invisible line you were both daring the other to cross.

“I could list a few things,” you started, your voice playful. “Like you spying on me while I sleep.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something that sent a thrill through you, like you’d just lit a fuse. He leaned in, his thumb brushing against the side of your hip, a touch so light it felt like a promise.

Joel's face hovered close, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate cocoon in the dim light. His arm settled beside your hip, fingers brushing just enough to send a jolt through your skin. It felt almost like a question—one he wouldn’t voice, but asked with the pressure of his thumb, the careful tilt of his head. You were hyper-aware of everything in that moment: the faint scent of soap clinging to his skin, the underlying musk that was uniquely his, and the way his presence filled the small space between you, almost like a gravitational pull.

“Tell me what you dreamed,” he murmured, the request slipping from his lips in a tone that felt like an order disguised as an invitation. His voice had that low, rough edge, the kind that made you want to answer without question, to let yourself be led by it. You felt the warmth begin in your chest and travel downward, a slow unraveling that left you bare.

Look at you, so reckless, you thought, almost laughing at yourself. But even as you hesitated, you couldn’t resist the idea of letting him in on the dream. Would he react like you imagined? Push back, pull away, or lean in further? A thrill went through you at the uncertainty of it all.

“Well, it was dark,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, but there was a slight tremble you couldn’t control. “I woke up to a noise. I was in my bed, alone, until I felt something move behind me, pressing close.”

He leaned in, just enough to make you feel the shift in his breathing. “How close?” His voice carried a note of urgency, like he needed the answer more than you did.

You swallowed, feeling a flicker of boldness ignite. “Not a millimeter away,” you confessed, watching the way his expression shifted, tightening with curiosity and something else, something deeper. “And then I felt it—a hand, sliding over my waist, fingers pressing in, but gentle, almost hesitant. For a moment, I thought it was just a phantom feeling, but then it moved lower, and I turned over to see—” You faltered, catching the gleam in his eyes. He was listening, but not just with his ears. He was taking in every word, every flicker of emotion on your face, holding you captive in his gaze.

You brushed your fingers over the back of his hand, feeling his warmth seep into you. It made your pulse stutter. “I think you know what I mean, Joel,” you continued, his name slipping from your mouth like a plea. “When I finally felt it—all of it—it was like it was tearing me apart from the inside, a sensation so strong it felt like it would swallow me whole.”

His eyes, dark and intense, never wavered from yours. He swallowed hard, like he was trying to keep himself steady, but you could see the hunger there, wild and unguarded. “Say it,” he urged, his voice rougher now, and it made your skin tingle.

You feigned confusion for a second, savoring the way his impatience crept into the curve of his mouth, the tightness of his jaw. “What?” you asked innocently, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

His lips twitched into a smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes. “Don’t play innocent with me. Say it. Out loud.”

The challenge in his words, the edge of command, did something to you. A rush of need flooded your veins, making your head spin, leaving you breathless with wanting. You could have kept up the pretense a little longer, but he was so close, so maddeningly close, that it was all you could do to keep from leaning in those last few inches to taste the urgency on his lips.

“It was you, Joel,” you confessed, feeling the weight of the admission hitting you, your heart drumming wildly against your ribs. “Touching me, gripping me like I was something you couldn’t bear to let go of. Taking me, like you needed it as much as I did. Of course you you had to heard me, those noises were just for you.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, just stared at you with a raw, naked hunger that made your skin feel too tight. His breath came in rough bursts, and his chest rose and fell like he was struggling to keep control. Then, you saw his gaze drop, his eyes tracing the line of your throat, lingering on the curve of your collarbone, and finally, drifting down further.

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out, grazing the front of his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. His reaction was instant—a sharp intake of breath, a tightening of his hand on your hip, as if he might pull you closer or push you away, he hadn’t yet decided. But he didn’t push. He let you touch him, let you feel the evidence of how much he wanted this.

Then Joel’s fingers curled around your wrist, gently halting your touch, as if savoring the moment. His grip was firm, his hand rough against your skin, and when he spoke, there was a crack in his voice that made you pause, just for a second.

“If this happens, there's no turning back, baby,” he said, his voice low, gravelly, but with an edge of vulnerability that you hadn’t heard before. His eyes searched yours, and for a brief moment, a shadow of uncertainty crossed his face.

You swallowed, taking in the weight of what he’d just said, the gravity in his words. But really, that was all you needed. No second thoughts, no hesitations. You leaned in, closing the space between you both, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was urgent, like you’d been holding your breath for hours, and finally, you could exhale. Joel’s taste filled you—something intoxicating and warm—and you let out a low sound, a moan that vibrated through your joined lips.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he studied you with half-lidded eyes. He sank back against the couch, drawing you with him. His hands moved quickly, guiding your legs around his waist until you were straddling his lap, your thighs cradling his hips. You could feel the strength in his arms as he adjusted you, holding you close, anchoring you to him. The contact of his hard chest against your own, the way his body seemed to fit perfectly beneath yours—it set a spark in your blood, a need so intense that you barely recognized your own voice as you gasped against his lips.

“Damn, baby,” Joel breathed, his lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. He dipped his head to kiss along your jaw, his hands cupping your backside, fingers digging into the curve of you. A low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest when he felt you grind against him, his body responding with a slow, helpless roll of his hips. He broke the kiss, just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he felt your eagerness. You couldn’t help but match it with a smile of your own, though yours was tinged with impatience.

You pressed your mouth to his again, this time with a frantic edge, your hands finding their way into his hair. The heat between you was searing, uncontainable. Your hips moved instinctively, seeking the pressure, the friction. When you felt the length of him pressing through his pants against your core, a desperate sound slipped from you, something raw and needy.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed, the words leaving you in a rush as your head tipped back, your lips parted. He felt so good beneath you, so solid, big, and it made your mind spin.

Joel’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and hungry, watching the way your mouth fell open, how you clung to him as if you might lose your balance. His breath hitched, and his jaw clenched as he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then, in a sudden move, he gripped your waist and lifted you off him, setting you down next to him. A whine of frustration bubbled up in your throat, but he was already on his feet, pulling you along with him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, your legs dangling for just a moment before finding their place around his hips again. You couldn’t keep your lips off him, your mouth chasing his as he maneuvered you toward the stairs, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

Before you knew it, he turned you in his arms, your back pressing into the wooden railing. Your breath came out in a shudder as he kissed you there, fingers digging into the curve of your spine. But then he pivoted again, leading you backwards until you found yourself at the door to his room. He fumbled for the handle, and when it finally gave way, he pushed the door open and guided you inside.

You took a breath, glancing around, taking in the intimate details of his space. It mirrored yours, but different—more organized, less cluttered, though the bed was rumpled, as if he’d just been lying in it, restless.

The thought disappeared when you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you into the heat of his chest. His mouth brushed over the curve of your shoulder, trailing kisses up to the sensitive spot beneath your ear. You tilted your head, giving him more space, your breath catching when his lips grazed your skin. His hands spanned your waist, holding you steady, and you shivered against him, your whole body aching with need.

Turning, you faced him, your hands going straight to the hem of his shirt. You were impatient, trembling, and he must have seen the urgency in your eyes because he didn’t waste time—he pulled off your sweater and t-shirt in one swift movement, leaving your skin bare to the cool air.

For a heartbeat, he just looked at you, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath stutter.

"So pretty, baby."

His fingers traced along your sides, pressing you closer, his mouth finding your neck again. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious ache building low in your stomach.

You tugged at his shirt again, desperate for the feel of his skin against yours. He shrugged it off, letting it fall somewhere on the floor, forgotten. His body was warm and solid beneath your touch, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped when he pressed himself to you, the heat of him seeping into your bones.

The edge of the bed met the back of your thighs, and Joel took advantage of your stumble, guiding you down onto the mattress. He hovered over you, his breath mingling with yours, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—this delicate push and pull of control he was struggling to keep. But then, with a small, desperate sound, he surrendered, his mouth crashing into yours.

His kiss was hungry, consuming, like he’d been starving for you, and it left you dizzy. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up against him, and you arched into his touch, a helpless little sound escaping your lips as he took control.

His lips moved lower, kissing down your neck, over the curve of your breast, until finally, his mouth closed around one of your nipples. The sensation sent a bolt of electricity through you, and you cried out, your hands twisting into his hair, pulling him closer, as if that would ease the ache growing inside you.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, voice barely above a whisper, but it felt like the only thing you could manage.

He paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his lips swollen and wet, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back.

“What, baby?” he teased, the words catching in his breath, his eyes dark with want. “You have to tell me what you need.”

Your cheeks flushed under his scrutiny, but you managed to meet his gaze, biting down on your lip. “Fuck me,” you whispered, the words a raw plea, your hands trailing over his shoulders, urging him closer.

He kissed you again, slower this time, but with a lingering desperation that made your head spin, his body pressing yours into the mattress.

As Joel pulled away, a cold emptiness settled over your body, making you lean up on your elbows, your head following his movement as he stood before you. His hands moved with urgency, tugging down his gray pants. And just like that, the fabric pooled at his feet, revealing skin. You blinked, your breath hitching. Of course, Joel wasn't wearing underwear.

A sigh tumbled from your lips, heavy with desire as your eyes drank in the sight of him. He stood exposed, unabashed, and hard. His hand wrapped around his hard, thick dick almost instinctively, and you caught the smallest flinch in his expression. It was intoxicating.

“I knew it,” you breathed, tossing your head back, a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth. Joel's eyebrow arched, and he took a step closer, a playful smile spreading across his face as if you’d just confirmed something you’d been dying to know.

You moved quickly, rising onto your knees on the mattress, aligning your face with his. Your arms found their place around his neck, tugging him down, your lips pressing against his with a desperate heat. The friction between you both was electric, his body pressed to yours, and you could feel him—solid and pulsing, rubbing against your stomach, warm and slick where he brushed.

Joel’s hands settled firmly on your hips, rough palms sliding lower until they cupped your ass, kneading the flesh with a force that pulled a moan from deep inside you. It vibrated between you, swallowed by his mouth, the sound mingling with the low groan rumbling in his chest. Your hands roamed downward, feeling every plane and muscle of his chest, before slipping further until your fingers wrapped around the base of his hardness.

“You’re so hard, Joel,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes stayed locked on his as you spoke. “You need this so badly, don’t you?”

He drew a sharp breath at your touch, his hands tightening on your hips, bruising almost. A flash of something wild crossed his expression, and he shook his head, lips quirking as he exhaled a chuckle that held no humor. “Witch,” he accused softly, the word a caress against your lips.

With a sly smile, you brushed a kiss over his mouth, barely a whisper of touch, before you let your hand work up and down his length, slow and deliberate. His eyelids fluttered at the sensation, lips parting as he tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat to your view.

God, the way he looked in that moment—lost and completely yours—made something tighten in your chest. A shuddered breath escaped his lips, breaking into a groan that seemed to take all the air from the room.

He felt it, the pull between you both. That magnetic force that had been there since the first time you saw him sitting on your parents couch, unreadable and infuriating. Now, here he was, completely undone by you, eyes dark with need, his hands leaving marks on your skin as if trying to hold onto you, to keep you tethered. But you wanted more than that—you wanted to give him more, to show him how good you could make him feel.

You shifted back on the bed, your legs folding beneath you, bringing your mouth level with him. With a teasing pause, you took him in hand again, guiding him towards your lips without quite touching. Joel’s breath stuttered, and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up so he could see your eyes.

“Show me how much I fucking need this, now,” he blurted out, his thick voice piercing your bones, as he pulled you closer to the tip of his dick.

You gave in, tongue slipping out to taste him, the salt and heat of him filling your senses. He groaned, his hips jerking forward, but you held firm, only letting him in bit by bit. When you finally took him into your mouth, the stretch was just enough to feel like a challenge, a thrill. He let out a low, shaky exhale, but you didn’t stop. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, moving with a rhythm that made his fingers tighten in your hair.

You were drooling, saliva dripping down your chin as you picked up speed, Joel ramming into your throat almost causing you to gag.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he whispered.

You didn't care, you wanted to eat him whole. And the sound that echoed through the four walls was obscene, wet, worthy of taking you to hell. And you loved it, loved it too much.

Joel was soaked in your saliva, it dripped from his cock every time your mouth approached his tip. So you grabbed him with one hand, jerking him off as you moved your lips to his balls, giving them a little kiss before taking them into your mouth and licking them with need.

But just as you leaned in to take him deeper again, Joel's hand found your hair, pulling you back with a gasp. He stared down at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and awe, chest heaving.

“You’re going to kill me,” he managed, his lips twisting into a rough smile, as if the idea didn’t bother him much.

You only answered with a mischievous look, taking him back into your mouth, this time letting him see everything, your eyes fixed on his as your lips wrapped around him. His hands tightened in your hair, his face twisted with the need to control himself.

“Fuck” he muttered, voice breaking. But then he yanked you back again, breathing heavily. “On your back.”

You obeyed, shifting onto the bed, your body singing with anticipation as he settled between your legs. Joel’s hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, and he lowered himself until he was almost flush against you. You trembled beneath his gaze, feeling exposed in every sense, but there was something intoxicating in being seen by him like this, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

His fingers traced a slow, teasing line down your stomach, dipping between your legs. When he found your clit, a slow circle of his thumb sent a shock through you, making you arch into him. The look he gave you was dark and satisfied, as if he’d uncovered some secret you’d been hiding.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate,” he murmured, watching your expression change, drinking in the way you gasped and arched for him. “Is that what you’ve been dreaming about? Me, fucking you?”

“Yes, Joel,” you answered, the words slipping out before you could think. “Please, fuck me.”

He just smiled, shaking his head. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and unhurried, even as his thumb sped up its torture, drawing moans from you that you couldn’t keep back. His eyes bore into yours, unyielding. “You need to beg better than that.”

He had known exactly how much power he held, savoring it until the very last moment, until his own desire got the better of him. Without a word, he lowered his mouth onto you, sealing it around your most sensitive spot, his tongue moving in waves, patient but relentless.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a cry, your fingers twisting into his hair, trying to anchor yourself against the onslaught.

Joel sucked at you with a gentleness that felt like a contradiction, each flick of his tongue pulling you closer to some edge you couldn’t quite see. The rhythm he set was almost maddeningly precise, a tempo that left you no choice but to arch your hips into him, chasing the pleasure that seemed to spill from his mouth in every movement. Your breath stuttered as he released you for a moment, his tongue sweeping lower, dragging over you slowly before dipping inside, finding that place where you needed him most.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, and the way his voice cut through the haze made you shudder. He sounded almost amused, but there was a hunger there too. “Bet feeling me in your throat got you like this, didn’t it? All swollen and ready.”

“Joel, please,” was all you managed to say, the desperation curling up in your voice like a plea. It felt raw, something you didn’t want to give him but couldn’t keep back.

He didn’t make you wait—his mouth was on you again, as if he’d been starved for you. He kissed and sucked at you like it was the only way to survive, his mouth devouring, each motion of his tongue sending pulses of sensation through every inch of your body. You could feel the texture of the sheets beneath you, the cool air on your skin where his lips weren’t, but all of it blurred together under the hot, unrelenting focus of his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair, trying to find some control, but it was impossible. It was too much, and you let yourself go, surrendering to the flood of sensation.

You tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a high-pitched cry, and he felt it in the way your body arched beneath him, trembling with the intensity that rolled through you. His rhythm never wavered, the friction of his mouth pushing you deeper into that overwhelming feeling. When it became too much, you pulled your hips back with what little strength you had left, and the sound of him coming off you was slick, leaving your skin sensitive and flushed.

Your clit throbbed, swollen and pink, still tingling with the aftershocks of his attention. And just as you tried to catch your breath, he shifted you onto your side with his steady hands, his chest pressing against your back. The warmth of him behind you was dizzying, the closeness both comforting and unbearable. It wasn’t enough—you wanted him closer, to sink into him completely, to forget where you ended and he began.

Your mind spun as he kissed the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your ear.

“I was behind you, wasn’t I?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost like a secret between the two of you.

A smile tugged at your lips, the meaning sinking in, the memory of your dream making your pulse race again. Before you could respond, his hand found your waist, his fingers kneading into your skin. He remembered without you needing to say a word.

You guided his hand down, trailing over the curve of your stomach until he reached the sensitive spot between your legs, still pulsing from his earlier attention. You shifted back against him, feeling his hardness against your ass, a reminder of how much more he wanted.

“Kiss my neck,” you whispered, and he didn’t hesitate. His mouth found the spot that made your breath catch, and your skin prickled under the heat of his lips. You shivered as you guided his hand lower, until his fingers pressed against you, finding that aching place with an agonizing slowness. The sensation made you moan, a sound you couldn’t hold back.

He took over then, his fingers slipping inside you, and you moved with him, setting the rhythm until he matched it. His lips grazed your earlobe, his teeth scraping lightly as he added another finger, stretching you, pushing deeper. The motion was intimate, almost unbearably so, his breath fanning against your skin, his voice a rough murmur against your ear.

“And then,” you started, your voice unsteady, barely holding on to the thread of your thoughts. “Then—fuck me Joel, please.”

His fingers slipped out of you, and his hand landed on your bottom with a firm smack, the sound cracking through the air and making you yelp softly.

“Be a good girl and spread those legs for me,” he ordered, voice thick, his fingers pressing into your thigh as he guided your leg back, opening you up to him.

The anticipation twisted inside you, tightening like a spring, and you pushed back against him, turning your head to meet his eyes. They were so close, so dark with desire, and when he finally pushed inside you, the stretch of him was enough to leave you breathless.

You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as your body adjusted to the feel of him, to the way he filled you completely. He didn’t move, letting you take in the heat and pressure of his body, the fullness that made your head spin. And then his hand found your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse before he squeezed, just enough to make your breath hitch.

He turned your head with a gentle but insistent grip, catching your mouth in a bruising kiss. “So tight, so wet, just for me,” he rasped, his voice trembling against your lips.

“Just for you, Joel,” you managed to reply, your voice cracking into a sob.

And then he started to move, his hips finding a steady, unyielding rhythm. Each thrust seemed to reach deeper, leaving you wrecked, clinging to the sound of his breath in your ear and the way his body collided with yours. You could have listened to those ragged, desperate sounds he made forever, each one making you feel like you had him in your hands even as you surrendered everything.

“You're close,” he said in your ear, his words barely a broken whisper. He could feel it inside of your throbbing cunt. “Come for me, baby, I want to feel you break over me, is that what you need?”

“Y—yes, Joel, fuck.”

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

His firm voice in your ear was enough for the explosion to invade your body, making you open your mouth in a silent scream and tighten around him, squeezing him devastatingly tight.

“Oh God,” Joel moaned in agony, his hard movements becoming unsynchronized. His mouth caught your sweaty neck in desperation, digging his teeth into you hungrily as his hand, still on your neck, held you immobile beneath his lips.

A primal sound came from him, making you moan again. His body tensed and his quivering lips released your flesh.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, baby,” he cried, cumming inside you.

Deep inside you, his warm seed spurted out as he lay still, unmoving as his discharge filled you.

His hand released you, leaving a soft pink mark on your skin, and you pulled back seeking his lips, which captured yours in less than a second.

His hand gave you a gentle spank, and a smile from you broke the kiss.

As you looked into his eyes, still dark, his words echoed in your mind.

No, there was no turning back now.

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fic #tlou hbo #tlou joel #capuccinodoll #joel x reader #pedro pascal joel #joel the last of us #pedro joel #joel tlou #dbf!joel x fem!reader #joel x you

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jinxpantsu · 2 days ago

Text

Samuel is a pain in the ass next most of the time. It's very difficult to enjoy your day most of the time when some fly is buzzing in your ear, isn't it?

Which is why you tend to ignore his messages. At least when you have a good reason to. He's put a tracker on you somehow and usually knows when you aren't working... or where you're headed.

He also knows about your addiction to parties. Which sounds silly on the surface- everyone loves a good party if they're social enough. If nothing else, it's a good opportunity to make more money to avoid Bailey's punishments.

Which is why you so readily accept Samuel's invite to a party up Danube street. It's a regular frat party. There will be booze. There will be drugs. Don't be lame about it.

"I'm trusting you to at least entertain the guests there. Indulge them a little... make'em laugh. You're funny. You can do that for me, can't you? Be good and I'll make it worth your while?"

Easy enough.

So when you go, and when you indulge the guests, you find out that the owner of the place is in fact Samuel himself.

He invited you to his own party? That's sort of....

Cute?

It feels like an off-handed way of him saying he does enjoy your company. That makes you feel special.

You aren't sure why but for the rest of the party he has his eyes on you. Even when you try to avoid him, he appears out of the corner of your eye. No way.

Is he stalking you, even here?

It seems absurd for him to try and keep an eye on you. You can take care of yourself- you HAVE taken care of yourself so far... So why is he acting like a concerned lover? Or a creep?

It isn't until the drugs start coming out that you realize why. Piles of it, wrapped into rolling papers, lines laid out across the table, needles discarded on the floor, prescription pills, capsules strewn about...

You thought it was just going to be weed.

Worse yet, you see Samuel indulge a line across the table, neatly, almost delicately created by one of his many credit cards. You think you recognize that from when he took you shopping one day.

Just how careless was this bastard with money you struggled to make every day?

You try to seem uninterested. Avoid the ones doing lines in favor of those smoking- but everywhere you turn people are getting handsy with one another. At first it was one or two people, then it became four, then 8, then 10 more behind them...

Everyone was high on their drug of choice. Everyone except for you.

And Samuel wasn't having that.

"Don't be a girl about it." he says flatly, his eyes red from the effects of the drugs. "You don't gotta take any snow... But have some of this. It's some new shit on the market. I like it."

He holds up a pink pill in his hands. You've seen these before in the form of pills Harper would give you. Whether you take them or not, you're often suspicious of what they do.

He pops it into his mouth instead of giving it to you. Just when you're about to comment on it-

(for whatever reason you were curious now?)

-he reveals it again. Sat just above the piercing on his tongue. It's been broken in half in the split second it was hidden between his teeth.

"I'll share it with you. Now say aaaah~ ♡"

And you oblige.

Because you've realize Sammy is paying for you to be here. Just like Avery would.

Sammy is paying for you to party with him. And whether you wanted to or not in the first place does not matter. Because once he kisses you, his long tongue slithers into your mouth and pushes the pill down your throat. The amount of saliva on his tongue makes it easy to swallow it down, but he doesn't seem interested in stopping there.

"You're so pretty."

You're inclined to believe him. Because when he kisses you again, it somehow feels even better this time. With how his tongue brushes against your lips, your teeth, the underside of your own tongue- you can't help but imagine where else that tongue might feel good.

You're not a stranger to hookups. You've done it plenty with people you've never seen again, whether it was forced upon you in a back alley, or in a dark room down at Briar's. But this was Samuel. Good old Samuel.

And the longer you sat there, swallowing around his tongue in your throat, the more willing you were to shut your eyes and let him peel off your clothes.

"That's it. You're so pretty when you're high."

You are inclined to believe him.

#pnp kink #yuhhhhhhh...#samuel the transient #brain worms thats azul lol #cmooonnn party with ur fave drug dealer stalker boyfriend(?!?!)

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subby-succubus · 9 months ago

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Imagine you're sitting in my lap and I'm giving you pills from an unlabeled bottle. Little capsules, all different colors, almost like candy. You keep taking them like a good little whore, sucking my fingers each time. You have no idea what they are, and you don't care. You'd do anything you were told to do AND you'd probably take a pill you found on the ground. There was no way this could ever be your limit.

Your head is spinning a little already. The lights are brighter than they should be. You can mostly think clearly. Well, you THINK you're thinking clearly. Oh, it's time for the next pill! How many is that? Has to be more than five, couldn't be more than, um... Twenty? You think maybe they're starting to really kick in now. Every sense is pulsing, growing and receding in intensity. You try to say something, but it slips out of your mouth and turns into a few happy syllables. "I know, Angel. Here, one more."

I ask what you want to do. You giggle and turn and slip to the floor. You reach for my belt and fumble at the buckle. I smile at you as I undo it and strip off my pants. "Of course we can."

Your mouth isn't so much opened for me as it is hanging limp, but it's warm and wet all the same. I take hold of your hair and push inside your throat. I'm having to do all the work, but you seem happy enough. You're not blacking out just yet, but it can't be far away. You moan and fumble at your own tits and pretend to help me fuck you, but you're getting limper with every passing second.

I figure I'm ready to move on. You figure you're ready to go to sleep. We can both have what we want, really. I strip off what little you're wearing, and the last thing you feel as you drift away is the head of my cock starting to enter your...

Imagine you're waking up, right where you went to sleep. How long has it been? You're still naked. I'm still there. I have one hand on your cheek and the other jerking my cock, slowly. When I see your eyes flutter open, I speed up. You try to say something. Try.

I take my hand off my cock to grab the pill bottle. I shake three of them into your hand. "Go ahead."

You take them, of course. Then I throw back the rest of the bottle into my mouth and swallow them all.

You're shocked. I'm laughing. My hand is back on my cock, making myself cum on your face. "It was a joke, silly slut. They're all placebos!" I smear my load across your face, let you down gently to a lying position. I wipe my cock on your clothes, throw them on top of you, and walk away.

Now imagine that before starting our little game tonight, I took the placebo bottle and put two dozen real pills on top of it. You swallowed them all. What were they? You don't know. I've already forgotten. Who gives a shit anyway. What matters is I drugged you into unconsciousness, did God knows what with your body, and then convinced you that you were sober the whole time. Isn't that hilarious?

- Sinister

Wow. Wow wow wow. Yes please.

I'd just keep taking anything you gave me. I'd want to be a good girl for you after all. Each pill making me more and more needy. Each time I think less and less about the consequences by replacing those thoughts with how badly I want to be obedient. I mean, I can't say no. How could I? I want so badly to please you. Wanting to pleasure you with my mouth. Wanting more, but feeling too sleepy. I fall asleep for you to do whatever you want to my little, weak body.

I wake up feeling hot and used. Not sure what happened to me. Not sure what is currently happening. Not fully understanding how I could be like that with placebos. But if you say so, it must be true. After all, you wouldn't lie to me. It's my fault for being such a dumb slut. It's my fault for being so easy.

It would just make our game so much harder for me to win. Just like it should be.

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authoradaelise · 17 days ago

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Only You - Chapter Two.

Content warnings: Mention of parental death, subtle mention of abusive relationship.

Word count: 2.6k

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Late mornings towards the end of summer are a blessing I’ll never again take for granted. I didn’t realize how much I missed the slow start, coffee brewing, sound of the wind rustling through the trees. This is the first morning I’ve woken up without that tight feeling in my chest, waiting for the fuse to blow.

I ruffle around in bed, taking in the look of my room. It’s a time capsule for the person I once was and it feels strange to be in this place again. It’s almost as if I’m cosplaying a role I don’t even remember the details for.

“Darling?” I hear my dad call out in question, gently, right outside my door. I slide out of bed, stretching my arms over and wiping at my eyes. I walk towards the door, take a deep breath, and open the door.

“Hey, Dad. G’morning.”

“Coffee, milk, four sugars.” He holds up the steaming cup towards me. I don’t have it in me to tell him that’s not how I drink it anymore. My ex husband, Liam, preferred me to match the way he did things. Black coffee – no coffee at all if he fully had it his way. I suppose letting me still drink it at all was the one kindness he extended me. I grab the cup from his hand, smiling so he knows he did the right thing, placing my hand on his back, in a gesture.

“Front porch? It seems nice out this morning.”

“Sure thing, darling.” We make our way downstairs, walking out the front door to a rush of fresh air. It’s as though it’s helping me breathe. We sit down, quiet for sometime before my dad breaks the silence.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?”

I swallow a sip of coffee, feeling a lump forming in my throat. “I know.”

“I know it wasn’t easy, coming back home and what not. Especially after all this time, but I-” he pauses, his voice breaking a little. “I just want you to know how sorry I am for not seeing through it all. For not knowing how much trouble you were in.” He looks at me then, eyes glassy. “It’s not your fault, Dad. You wouldn’t have known, he made sure of that.”

“I should know when something ain’t right with my little girl. I just thought...I thought after your mother died you needed that time and space to grieve. But then it turned into too much time and too much space, I just lost track of how to get you back.” A tear slides down my cheek. I reach over to grab his hand and give a gentle squeeze. I can’t speak but I think he understands. We’ve always understood each other in what’s unspoken.

Across the road, I see a car pull up to the house in front of it. Two girls step out of the back seats and race towards their front door, nudging each other out of the way, fighting to see who can open it first. I recognize them to be Sarah and Ellie.

“They live just across the street?”

“Sure do. It’s real nice.”

My mind is reminded of last night. Laughter was all that filled the air, giggles from the girls as they kept making jokes, Dad talking about everything that kept breaking in the house, how nice enough of Joel was to always come by and help fix it right up. I’d make eye contact with him whenever Dad mentioned his name. He’d return it, if only for a brief moment, just to humbly look down again, shaking his head as if my dad’s praise was a ridiculous thing he didn’t deserve. He didn’t speak to me at all. Not directly, at least. The girls eventually sat in the living room, playing board games, while the adults stayed at the table, sipping on beer.

There was a brief moment where we were left alone at the table, Dad off upstairs to use the bathroom. I remember asking Joel if he liked living here. He was short with me.

“Mhm, real nice.”

I struggled to find a way to continue. He didn’t seem rude, just… not interested. As though he couldn’t wait to have my dad back downstairs as a buffer. I continued anyways.

“Your girls are real funny.” I lift my chin, gesturing towards them. Not that he can see me, anyhow. His eyes remained focus on them and I see a small smile grace his lips.

“Yeah, they are. Real pieces of work, too. Don’t let ‘em fool ya.”

“All the best people are.” I say. He turns and finally looks at me and I get a small rush of air that smells like him. Like wood, smoke, a hint of sweat. There’s that warmth again, burning into me. I can’t tell if I’ve somehow said something wrong. Did I say something wrong? I think to myself. A nervous gulp making its way down my throat. His eyes flicker to my throat and linger there for what feels like a full minute before he finds my own eyes again. He clears his throat.

“You’re probably right about that.” I move to say something witty, to lighten the mood some more, finally feeling progress from earlier in the night where it seemed like it pained him to be in the same room as me, but then my dad interrupts.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He walks back into the kitchen, patting his stomach. Joel and I both chuckle.

“I think we better head on out.” Joel says, standing up to give my dad a pat on the back. “Ellie, Sarah, let’s head on out.”

“Well what’s the rush? It’s only eight!” My dad exclaims, sounding disappointed and a little confused. As if this isn’t the normal.

“The girls are starting school back up soon and I think we should get them back on schedule. You’ve seen ‘em in the mornings, Henry, you know what they’re like.” Joel says, as if to prove a point. The girls stand up in the living room, rolling their eyes. They make their way towards me, arms extended, both of them end up hugging either side of me, squeezing gently.

“It was really nice meeting you both. I had a really nice time.” I say as I hug them back.

“Nice meeting you too!” They say in unison, both grinning and waving as they walk towards the front door, waiting on Joel.

Dad, Joel, and I start heading towards the door then. I’m prepared to end the night without hearing another word from Joel again, but then he surprises me.

“Nice to meet you, Julia.” He gives a nod, back to staring at me, waiting for a response. It takes me by surprise, partly because no one has called me Julia since Momma. Liam used to call me Julie, sometimes not even by my name at all. And Dad, well I’m always darling to him, but other times it’s just Jules. My heart skips a beat and I’m waiting for it to catch up when Joel turns around to leave, probably given up on hearing a response from me.

“Yes!” I say, a little too loudly, causing him to whip his head around. My hand extending out and swatting the air as if to scratch that awkward moment from in front of us. “Sorry it- it was nice meet you too.” My cheeks feel like they are burning, my eyes are shut for a moment and I open them to him smiling.

“Yeah.” He says, as if he’s agreeing with my agreement of him. He heads out the door and I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until the door shuts and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You okay, darling?” My dad looks at me, concerned. “Your face is a bit red. I guess it is kind of warm inside. Let me open up some windows.”

“Mm.” I nod in agreement as he turns to do what he suggested.

I’m brought back to the present moment, shaking my head of last night, when Dad says something.

“So, I heard Liz and Maggie are excited to have you at the library. Maria just left on maternity leave so it’s real good timing for you to hop on in.”

“Maria?” I ask.

“Ah, right. Forgot to tell ya. Maria is Tommy Miller’s wife. Tommy is Joel’s brother. They moved here a couple of years ago, following Joel. Figured he was lonely and could use some more family. They’re real close.” Joel Miller.

“Why move here? Such a small town, everyone already so acquainted.” I look to him, curious.

“Something about his wife. Said she visited when was young and she loved it here. She wanted to move here eventually, raise the girls. But the car accident happened and it just took him a little bit to make it.”

“How old were the girls? When…”

“Sarah was two, Ellie just born. It’s been a long while since, the girls being thirteen and fifteen now. But for Joel, it’s still something he’s struggling with. I think he just wants the girls to be happy and safe, most importantly.”

“Right. Of course.” I nod, understanding as best as I could. I suppose we know a different kind of loss. But loss is loss at the end of the day and a grieving heart is one looking for a place to go. My dad places his hands on his knees, pushing him self up.

“I think we should head on over there and help with whatever they got going on. I think they went grocery shopping and lord knows those girls are probably eating the food instead of packing it away.” He chuckles, getting ready to head down the steps. “You coming?” He asks me, looking for confirmation.

“I’ll be right over. Let me just brush my teeth and get changed.”

“I’ll meet you over there. Door should be open so just come on in.” He leans to give me a kiss on the cheek before making his way across the road.

I head upstairs to clean myself up and change out of my pajamas. I throw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, my boots waiting for me downstairs. I try to pull my hair up into a ponytail but a slight headache graces me, so I leave it down in a lose braid. I make my way downstairs, throwing on my boots, and head down our front steps, door shutting behind me.

I stare at Joel’s front door my entire way across the road. I wait for it to become closer, but it feels like the more I walk the further it is. Or maybe it’s the way the air feels heavy on my lungs. That anxious feeling lurking beneath me, but the moment I step on his front porch, slow steps until I’m inches from the front door, I finally breathe. I don’t know what’s causing me to feel this way. I’m far away from Liam and he won’t find me here. All those years he kept me away, he figured there’s no sense in knowing where I’m from. Where I’d return to if it weren’t for him. I swallow, willing myself to place my hand on the doorknob, turn it, and walk in. I move to do just that, my hand reaching out when the door suddenly opens and Joel bumps into me, my hand suddenly resting on his stomach in shock. I pull back.

“Sorry! I was just taking a moment before stepping inside. I went to turn the knob right as you walked out I guess and-”

“It’s no worries.” He says, wiping his palms on his jeans, then tucking his hands in his front pockets, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. My face is still angled down, staring at the place my hand was just at. I start to look up slowly, gathering more of him into my memory. He’s a simple man, wearing boots, jeans, and a dark gray shirt. My eyes continue to drift up his chest, his neck, his mouth, eventually landing on his eyes. The wind blows slightly, the wind chimes on his front porch the only thing disrupting the silence. The smell of cedar and sage envelops me and I can’t help but breathe it in.

I scramble to find words to say when he saves the moment.

“Your dad is just in there with the girls. I’ve still got a few things in the trunk of the car if you don’t mind helping me out?” He pulls one hand out of his pocket, pointing his thumb towards his car, eyebrow raised. He looks as serious as always, almost like it pains him to ask. Like my dad somehow convinced him to let me help out and he’s just trying to be nice, make me feel useful.

“Mm, yeah sure thing.” I nod profusely, holding eye contact, making sure he knows it’s not me that can’t stand to be near him. He turns and heads down to the trunk of his car, me right behind him.

“It’s just a few cleaning supplies for the house.” He starts explaining to me, getting all the bags together in one spot. “It’s been a while since we did a nice deep clean, and figured with school starting up again it’d be good to get the house reset, you know, for the girls. So they can feel nice and ready.” He lets out a deep breath, like he didn’t take one the entire time he spoke.

That was the most amount of words I’ve heard come out of his mouth when addressing me. I don’t know how to respond because a part of me feels like if I speak, I will ruin this moment. This brief moment where he gave me more than five words of his time. I want to savor it, freeze time, until he turns around, looking at me with worried eyes, like he may have over spoke. I don’t want to lose this moment so I quickly say “No, yeah of course! Makes a lotta sense.” I smile. Gesturing my hands out so he can hand me which bags to carry. He clears his throat and turns to grab a bag. One singular bag. He hands it to me.

“I- are you sure? I can grab more than one bag, I’m not as weak as a I look.” I joke. He looks at me with his, what I’m learning to be familiar with, usual serious expression. He eyes me up and down.

“You don’t look weak at all.” He says softly, in a way that contradicts his usual rough tone. He closes down the trunk and starts heading towards the house again. I watch as his arms flex when holding the bags on both arms, his veins protruding just a bit. His stops before going up the porch steps, turns his head slightly, and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “I appreciate you helping, Julia.”

I look down at my hand, still holding the one bag while he holds the rest. I almost think he might be upset, offended that I didn’t keep suggesting to hold more. Maybe I was meant to southern hospitality my way back and forth with him until one of us felt satisfied enough with the proper bag to person ratio. That is until he smiles and lets out a low chuckle, continuing up the stairs.

“Could you get that for me?” He nods his head towards the door for me to open it.

“Sure thing.” I say, pulling the door open and standing with my back against it, holding it while he makes his way through. His arm brushes mine as he walks through and his eyes briefly drop to where our arms touched. He presses his lips into a firm line and keeps moving forward without looking at me. I follow him into his home, letting the door shut behind me, sealing me into his space.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #slow burn #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #OnlyYouJoelMiller #AdaElise #authoradaelise #onlyyoufanfic

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luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago

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as If you don’t mind at all, please please feel free to say no, could you share your symptoms?

I also have thyroid problems in the family, but I have no insurance, so I can’t go to the doctor

Under the clouds so people can scroll! Personal experience, don’t take my words as medical advice.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

My symptoms were supposedly unrelated, but a big reason why I went in was because after my last child my tits shriveled up. I went from a B cup pre-baby, to a c cup breast feeding, to an AA. And nothing was making them come back. Gaining weight, getting off birth control. Bee pollen.

Then I was getting these nights where I could pull an allnighter easy and had absolutely no appetite and felt fine. I had a rapid heart rate those days.

I also had hair falling out, pretty bad skin breakouts. (Which I thought was just cause of sugar and normal.)

There was also, I don’t like talking about it much, the paranoia. Just random bouts of insane paranoia.

Went to the doc. They checked all my blood work, and it looked fine and I mentioned my family history of thyroid problems. So she checked the blood for that too before checking my actual neck. Noticed a slight lump, which I told her I sometimes felt weird when swallowing.

They got me an ultrasound that day.

Blood came back normal. I just needed vitamin D and took some magnesium to help with the paranoia.

But, then the ultrasound came back. Two nodes on my thyroid. Which isn’t instantly cancer. It was a 2% chance of them being cancer.

So I went to a different doc, ENT. They got me a CT scan and a biopsy. (I had a cold that day and feared for my life while they did that.)

The ct caught my swollen lymph nodes which were fine. But, the biopsy came back looking suspicious.

So then they did a PET scan, which was horrible. But, that confirmed my lymph nodes were not cancer shaped.

While that happened they did a genetic test and decided it was too high risk of cancer, so they’d take the thyroid out. Either part of it or the whole thing.

Ended up taking the whole thing. One node, the stage one cancer was about to escape the capsule and a few cells possibly did escape. (Which could attack my lymph nodes later.) The other node was just a plain ol’ node.

So they’re doing treatment to make sure all my thyroid cells are dead just to make sure the cancer is completely gone.

After that I went on Thyroid meds, and I honestly felt a lot better. (Basically meds replace my thyroid now. I do have insurance and they’re $4 a bottle a month.)

Unfortunately to prep for this cancer treatment . I had to not take any thyroid meds and be on a low iodine diet. (Iodine helps your thyroid function properly. It’s in table salt, try that if you have issues.)

No thyroid meds made me dizzy, irritable, emotionally unstable, and exhausted.

But, skin cleared up. Boobs are perking up. I’m actually back on my meds and starting to feel normal again. So it’s working out.

We caught it in time.

(My dad kept telling me to go to the doctor before I ended up in a casket. I thought he was overdramatic. Boy, was a shell shocked when I realized I could’ve if I hadn’t…)

Hope this helps!

My family has a history of Hypothyroidism, yet I showed none of those symptoms. In fact, after child birth I had more symptoms in line with Hyperthyroidism before they would eventually go back to normal.

#luluramblings

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xanthiccircuitry · 5 months ago

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Imagine loving someone so much that you would go through the agony of living for them

Imagine yearning for their companionship so long that you feel like enough of an empty shell to be a capsule yourself

Imagine not being able to stand it when it's weeks and then having to wait a hundred years-- but you don't know that it's a hundred years. You don't know there's an end coming. There is just the rest of the life of an unaging, unchanging statue, knowing that it could be hundreds of years, maybe forever

Imagine people telling you to find somewhere else to put that love, to direct those feelings, as if they aren't big enough to swallow you whole, as if you can properly grieve and mourn when you know that whom you desire the most has a heart that is still beating

How could you possibly get over someone who isn't gone?

Imagine, then, the release of being shattered to the core of your being, finally some form of release from the pain... And there is still yearning left behind.

There's enough yearning to create a whole new person

And still your soul is sad.

Imagine loving someone so much you'd die for them...only to find out that the living is the hard part. And still doing it.

So... Yeah, I sorta get the Leviathan thing.

Dying for someone is easy, it's the living that's the hard part.

#mmz #cex #original x #mmz zero #(z)ero #im totally normal about learning how long X tried to save the world from itself and rule Neo Arcadia

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sheebawilson · 4 months ago

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Moringa Magic Supplements - health

Moringa Magic Supplements: A Natural Boost for Optimal Health

I recently used the Moringa Magic Supplements, and I must say, they have had a transformative effect on my health and wellness. This natural, plant-based supplement has proven to be a valuable addition to my daily routine. Here’s my detailed review of the product, highlighting my experience and its many benefits.

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Packed with Nutrients and Antioxidants

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It’s clear that Moringa Magic has been formulated with great care and quality in mind. Knowing that the product is made with pure, natural ingredients and adheres to high manufacturing standards gives me confidence in its safety and effectiveness.

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Having used the Moringa Magic Supplements for over a month, I can confidently say they are a fantastic addition to anyone’s health routine. From increased energy and improved immunity to better digestion and glowing skin, the benefits have been undeniable.

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#Moringa Magic #Supplements - health #healthcare #skincare #leadhealthylife #moringa #supercharge #veggiecapsules #health and wellness #skinglow

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angelnumber27 · 1 year ago

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Supplements will be like “just three easy to swallow capsules each day!!!!” and the pills are like this

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product-health789 · 5 months ago

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My experience with mytolyn dietary supplement for weight loss

Introduction: My Journey Begins I recently had the pleasure of trying Mitolyn, a dietary supplement designed for weight loss, and I must say, it exceeded my expectations in every way. Like many people, I struggled to shed those stubborn extra pounds despite exercising regularly and maintaining a relatively healthy diet. Mitolyn proved to be the game-changer I needed, and I am excited to share my experience.

First Impressions and Ease of Use When I first received Mitolyn, I was impressed by the thoughtful packaging and clear instructions provided. The capsules were easy to incorporate into my daily routine, with no unusual aftertaste or discomfort. This was a significant advantage, as I’ve previously encountered products that were difficult to swallow or had a strong, unpleasant odour. Mitolyn stood out for its simplicity and user-friendliness right from the start.

Noticeable Energy Boost One of the first benefits I noticed after using Mitolyn was a marked increase in my energy levels. Within a week, I felt more alert and capable of tackling my daily tasks with vigour. This boost in energy not only made my workouts more effective but also helped me stay consistent with my fitness goals. The supplement appeared to work in harmony with my body, providing a natural lift without the jittery side effects that some weight-loss products can cause.

Steady and Sustainable Weight Loss Over the course of two months, I began to see real, measurable results. I lost nearly 6 kilograms, which was both motivating and reassuring. Unlike quick-fix solutions that lead to yo-yo dieting, Mitolyn helped me achieve steady progress. My clothes fit better, and I started receiving compliments from friends and family, which was incredibly uplifting. What I appreciated most was that the weight loss felt natural—I didn’t feel like I was depriving myself or putting undue stress on my body.

Improved Digestion and Overall Well-Being Another unexpected benefit was the improvement in my digestion. Mitolyn seemed to have a positive impact on my gut health, reducing bloating and helping me feel lighter throughout the day. Additionally, I noticed a general sense of well-being that I attribute to the supplement’s carefully chosen ingredients. Knowing that the product is made from high-quality, scientifically-backed components gave me confidence in its safety and efficacy.

Conclusion: A Highly Recommended Solution In conclusion, my experience with Mitolyn has been overwhelmingly positive. This dietary supplement not only helped me achieve my weight-loss goals but also enhanced my energy levels, digestion, and overall wellness. I wholeheartedly recommend Mitolyn to anyone seeking a reliable, effective, and natural solution for weight management. It has truly transformed my journey, and I am confident it can do the same for others.

If you are considering a supplement to support your weight-loss efforts, give Mitolyn a try—you might just find it’s the missing piece in your path to a healthier, happier

#mytolyn dietary supplement for weight loss #health & fitness #health tips #health care

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frogshipping · 5 months ago

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How They Got Together: Viti and Goku

This is a little post series I'm doing to explain how my s/i('s) get with a specific f/o. These are going to be summaries and not actual oneshots about the pairings (though they get long. Especially this one, because there's a lot of details!). The writing isn't even close to my best work due to the nature of it being a summary, so don't judge my skills based on this series

With that said, let's talk about my main selfship:

Viti zapped into the Dragon Ball Z universe at the beginning of the Buu saga, just in time to sign up for the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai. Viti hadn't yet realized what universe she was in; only that there was a fighting tournament going on, and that she wanted to compete. After changing outfits, Viti applied for the adult’s division, and began tearing her way through the ranks of the competition.

Viti was having the time of their life, confidence flaring and heart pounding with all the buzz and excitement. She felt as though she could win this, make a name for themself in this strange, new universe. That was, until she noticed a familiar mess of black hair from across the way.

Suddenly all of her confidence drained, fluster taking its place. They realized what universe they were in now. They would recognize the man approaching them anywhere. Ever since they were little, Viti had held great admiration for Goku. She'd grown up watching DBZ, and used it as a guide to train herself in the use of ki energy, as well as inspiration for learning martial arts. Before the whole media-universe-hopping-shenanigans, she would have never imagined she'd get to meet him. Even now, she hadn't thought she'd be a blip on his radar. Still, the saiyan with the sunshine-bright smile came over and introduced himself. Apparently, he'd been watching her fight.

Meeting him killed Viti's hope of winning. Yet the thought of potentially going up against Goku thrilled her. The reality that he was trying to befriend her excited her even more.

The pair clicked immediately, their conversation easy and pleasant. It felt like they'd known each other forever. To Viti, It was a strange feeling. She was not one to trust easily. Yet she had no hesitation with Goku. And Goku certainly hadn't caught on to how flustered Viti was, only reflecting back the hyper energy she gave off. Soon, he invited her to join him and his friends as they waited for their next matches to start.

And that's where everything went to shit. Canon events continued to occur basically the same from this point on, though Viti was there tagging along. She went with Goku and the others to confront Babidi. She was there when Vegeta became Majin and killed half a stadium full of people. And they were among the very few survivors of Buu's Earthling eradication. She distracted Buu by fighting him when Vegito was swallowed. And they helped project Hercule Satan's voice across the globe with her powers to help grow Goku's Spirit Bomb.

When the dust settled and peace was accomplished at last, Viti decided she was going to stay in the DBZ universe permanently. They'd been hopping from media universe to media universe for years. Their hope of getting back home had diminished. This was as good of a place to settle as any. Besides, Viti liked the people here, and the possibility of participating in more world shattering battles. She also really liked Goku. They'd become good friends, and he even offered to train her, seeing the potential she had inside. Viti wasn't going to pass up that kind of once in a lifetime opportunity. So she accepted the saiyan's offer, and temporarily moved into Capsule Corp while she put her new life together.

That was the beginning of their soon to come relationship. As Viti and Goku trained together, they found similarities among each other. They both loved to go on adventures, interact with animals, and have a big tasty meal. Their humor was the same, and they joked around constantly whenever they hung out. Eventually they started spending time together outside of sparring. They had a routine of grabbing lunch at various restaurants when they were done. Or Viti would whip up a meal for the two of them to share. Then that evolved into going to new places to explore. Soon, there were times the pair would spend time together and not even train at all. That was unusual for Goku. People started to notice the extra attention he gave to Viti. Mainly Vegeta and Chi-chi.

This friendly ritual between Viti and Goku went on for three years. Viti's feelings for Goku over that time started to grow from admiration to adoration. But she refused to acknowledge that she had romantic attraction towards him, especially because he had a family.

That was until he invited her to spend a day with him in the Room of Spirit and Time. Everything changed between the pair once they entered the chamber. Over what–to them–felt like a year, their relationship blossomed from something friendly to something more domestic. They were closer in the room, with everything being just the two of them. They trained together constantly, slept in the same space, and cooked together. In their downtime they would talk of deep things, and watch movies on the laptop Viti snuck in.

Things escalated when Goku witnessed Viti having nightmares. He took to soothing her after them, and discovering all the horrors she was reliving through them. Cuddling became a regular routine, and soon the pair couldn't sleep without holding each other. They sought comfort in one another, and began craving the affection.

By the end, when they'd exited the Room of Spirit and Time, both had realized they were in love with each other. Yet neither confessed, returning to their usual routines. However, a few days after they had come out of the chamber, Goku told Viti they could no longer be around each other. Viti took it to mean he stopped liking them, now that he'd gotten to live with them and see who they truly were. Heartbroken, Viti tried to be understanding. She let him go and cut contact, even if it killed them to do so.

Viti put all of her focus on getting her life in better order after that. In a year's time; she sold the blueprints and patent to the teleportation device they'd used for universe hopping to Bulma, and struck rich from it. They bought themself a house, and started attending university to follow their childhood dream of being a zoologist. They tried to focus on spending time with other friends. They even got themself a pet chicken to provide more company. Their life was turning out spectacular. Yet, Viti couldn't fill the void that'd formed in their heart.

Meanwhile, Goku was trying to fix his home life. The reason he was no longer allowing himself around Viti was because of his wife, Chi-chi. She was upset at him, calling him distant. She wanted them to become closer again, and the only way was for him to stop hanging out with his friend. Chi-chi called Viti a distraction, one that was getting between their marriage. She noted even Vegeta had recognized how much attention Goku gave the blonde god-human who'd come from another universe.

Though Goku had realized he was in love with Viti (something he'd never felt towards anyone), he still cared for Chi-chi. Their relationship didn't have the traditional romance in it. Their marriage had been arranged. Yet over the decades Goku had developed a unique type of love for Chi-chi, the one who cared for his home and raised his children. He didn't want to mess it up. So, he complied with her demands and stopped seeing Viti. Yet he could never get his mind off of her.

Over the next year Goku and Chi-chi tried to work on repairing their marriage. Though the distance between them seemed to grow even larger. Eventually, it became big enough that Chi-chi no longer cared what Goku was doing, as long as he was working and providing for their household.

One day, while Goku was working one of his jobs, he noticed a familiar head of windswept blonde hair in the passing crowd of people on the street. Calling out, he grabbed Viti's attention, hope radiating from him like a beacon.

Viti, surprised, approached the saiyan beckoning to her, hardly recognizing him with the way his hair was gelled back. They struck up a conversation, catching up on all the things that had happened with the two of them over the past year. Viti told Goku about her new house and her status as a university student. Goku told her about how he'd become a farmer, as well as Mr. Satan's bodyguard part time. Viti commended him for putting in such hard work, and wished him luck in all of his endeavors.

She was set to leave after that, her heart aching at the knowledge that he was doing so well without her in his life. Yet Goku nearly begged her to stay, offering to buy them both dinner when he was finished work for the day. Though Viti wanted to refuse, her heart pulled her towards him. So, she accepted the invite and met with him come evening.

The two of them came back together as if no time had passed. Their conversations were as easy as they had been the first time they met. Goku and Viti held great joy in finding their friendship again, even if both had feelings to hide from each other now.

Things went back to the way they used to after that dinner. Goku and Viti started to spar again, go out to lunch, and hang out with each other. Everything was wonderful, and Viti hoped nothing would change between them again, even if in secret she wanted more. But nothing ever stays the same.

During the following year, Goku and Chi-chi were having serious discussions with one another. Their marriage was worse than ever before, and the time they'd spent together with only the two of them had made things more hostile. Goku blamed it on the seven years he was in Otherworld. Chi-chi blamed their different life values. Both came to the conclusion that they were miserable together and wanted more out of living. It was a hard choice, but the pair ultimately decided it was time to go their separate ways.

And this absolutely crushed Goku. Though he held no romantic love for Chi-chi, she was all he'd ever known. She was the mother of his sons. Trying to figure out a life without her was difficult and depressing. But his friends were there to help him out. And Viti was there to cheer him on.

Goku didn't indulge in his feelings for Viti for a long while after his marriage ended. Though his heart pulled him towards her more and more. She was such a positive influence in his darkest time, and he truly was grateful for her presence. He didn't know where he'd be without her support.

One day, Goku could no longer ignore the yearning in his chest, the way he ached to spill all of his love onto Viti. He confessed to her after an intense spar, while the two took a breather to watch the setting sun.

Viti was completely blindsided by his proclamation of love. It was something she thought she could only hope for in her dreams. Yet she was hesitant. Surely there hadn't been enough time since his divorce for him to move on? Yet Goku assured he was ready. He had loved her for years, ever since that special time they'd shared together in the Room of Spirit and Time. Viti admitted she'd been hiding feelings for him since then as well, and even before. She'd always loved him, she thought. Even before she truly knew it. Goku and Viti came together in an embrace that solidified the true start of their relationship. And they've been together ever since.

#spars and stars #tadpole typewriter #selfship #selfshipping #self ship #self shipping #yumeship #yume ship #yume shipping #yumeshipping #viti stuff #carrot cake 🥕#btw if it isn't obvious dragon ball super is not canon in my selfship universe at all #I did borrow very tiny elements from it such as goku becoming a farmer and that one time he was a bodyguard at an event #and him having the slicked back hair during it (I thought it was really silly and cute)#but everything else in super is noncanon here #maybe I'll make an AU for it but I really don't like super. or the fact that god powers were introduced to the saiyans #gt is canon tho because I have nostalgia for it and istg there's shit worth reworking from it I CAN MAKE IT BETTER I CAN FIX IT I SWE-#tho no mention of the gt stuff is in here I just thought I'd state this fact #how they got together

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