#air knocked out of my lungs

[viivdle]

“Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips.”

-Cardan Greenbriar, The Queen of Nothing by Holly Black.

[soulmvtes]

saw someone from my past in the street yday and it was so strange how little it affected me

[ceru-draws]

I feel unmoored. Untethered. Sick with a mystery illness causing me to cough up my lungs and currently out of a job more abruptly and dramatically that I thought I was going to be. Maybe, hopefully, hopefully, starting a new career soon that will change my life for the better in so many ways, given that I did not fuck everything up by being on flu medicine during my pre-employment drug test. I feel floaty. Mote-like. Fuzzy and shapeless. The end of a year is hurdling towards me and all I can do is drift here until my body finds me again.

[sentientsky]

Everything, Everywhere, All At Once (2022)

[rillabrooke]

just listened to the october 11 entry where jonathan reads mina her burial rites, and re: dracula adds the lovely touch of jonathan reading them in the background while dr. seward finishes his narration. as i am not anglican (or of any liturgical denomination), i didn't realize the burial rites begin with john 11:25-26.

at first, i went !!! that's the verse in a tale of two cities!! and then i went ???? that's the verse in a tale of two cities?? and now i'm realizing that sydney carton was reading his own burial rites the night before he went to the guillotine.

and now i'm crying over a book i'm not even reading ;-;

[jaskierx]

at this point i don't even consider the mountain goats to be 'music that i like' it's more 'music that has me in a fucking chokehold'

[cyeayt]

Back on my bullshit answer my questions

while doing some rudimentary research for this poll it has come to my attention that pins and needles are a feeling felt while the limb is asleep, not the period of intense sensation/tingling/sensitivity experienced while it comes back online. or maybe it's both? the stuff i read referred to it as tingling that happens while the limb is pinned/under pressure/numb. i cannot find anything that references what i have come to think of as "the agony" but ive referred to it as the pins and needles in the options for this poll anyway.

Mild: limb has muted sensation but can be moved and used carefully, pins and needles begin almost immediately after limb is moved from whatever position caused it to fall asleep. Pins and needles not painful and do not appear painful, and last a few seconds, person affected is capable of speech and moving other parts of their body during pins and needles, which last a few seconds.

Middle intensity: limb is numb or partially numb and can twitch but not be moved precisely. Pins and needles begin a few seconds after limb is unpinned or when it is moved. Pins and needles not painful but intense and appear uncomfortable, taking a lot of the affected person's attention/capacity. they last between 5 and 7 seconds.

Intense: limb is numb and cannot move/be used, pins and needles begin 5-7 seconds after the limb is unpinned. pins and needles are intense and may be painful or not painful but 'unbearable', causing the affected person to cry out, grimace, or otherwise appear to be in pain. Person cannot speak or move their other limbs during pins and needles, which last 10 or more seconds (without shaking) and have residual tingling for a few seconds after limb regains movement/becomes bearable to move

obviously this all depends on how long the limb was pinned but just answer whichever is the most common for you, and if you want you can put in the tags what positions make your limbs go numb/how you deal.

[theeldermillennial]

SAME ENERGY

Yes please....

[lanistas]

"Sanctuary" season 3 is top tier. Legendary, extraordinary, revolutionary. Not a single weak episode, not a moment out of place. Just one ten-out-of-ten episode after another. (Well, maybe with the exception of 3x13, but still it was a solid episode, I learned to appreciate it in the end).

Phew, I need to go and lie down. And I definitely need to take a break before diving into season 4.

[tsivi]

There are lines and scenes from fanfiction that sadly have left more of a meaningful impact on my psyche than full works of literature

[tonycries]

MONSTA!

Synopsis. Mama, you’re in love with a criminal monster!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, weréwolf!Toji, rúts, bíting, ghostface!Choso, slight knífeplay, breéding, creampíes, knots, true form!Sukuna, dp, smácking, NÉEDY boys, vampíres, turning, clan leader!Gojo, cúlt leader!Geto, exhíbitionism (Geto), mentions of having kíds, PÚSSYDRUNK, squírting, bódy worshíp, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k (whoops)

A/N. First post of kínktoberrrr, hope y’all have a lovely month <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - FULL MOON FULL YOU!

“Baby–” Toji’s raspy baritone vibrates throughout your squirming body, all the way down to where he was unapologetically stuffing you gapingly full. He’s pressing hot kisses along your face, your neck. Everywhere and anywhere. “Baby.”

You’re never seen him this needy. This unable to hold back. 

And suddenly you’re finding yourself flipped over to straddle his strong hips, the bed creaking strenuously when he jabs up all greedy inches stretching your overfilled pussy open. 

There’s nowhere to run - nowhere to hide from Toji and the way he’s simply dragging you down with five of his thick digits wrapped snugly around your throat. “My baby.”

Truly, he was always so mean to you whenever it was a full moon. 

So determined to make sure you end up just as round and glowing as you are in his wettest of dreams. 

You’re gasping, “Wh-what do you-”

“Whoops” He titters, sucking lewdly on your glossy pout, “Did I say that out loud? But, I mean- really silly girl-” Toji bares his elongated canines at your drunken look of shock. Feral. Depraved. “-what else did ya expect coming to a werewolf in rut?”

Drool trickles down the corner of his mouth when the vicious curve of his fat tip draws relentless glides across your g-spot, mapping you from the inside out. Bouncing you precariously on top of him while he fucked up relentlessly over and over-

“Ah!” you’re yelping when Toji bites down harshly on the tender crook of your neck. Hard enough to draw blood, your hips stuttering down in a lewd thwack! onto his sharper ones.

“F-fuck–” the sharp nails on your fingers just dig into his skin, and it makes him grin. “Right there- hah- right there- need you to cum in me again, Toji-”

“Yeah?” he croons from below, quirking up a dark brow. “Think you can handle it- I mean just look.” There’s a low, sultry growl coming from the very depths of his broad chest when Toji’s pulling out ever-so-slightly. His vice-likehold around your neck tightens even more, breath puffing in raggedly hot pants against your cheek. “Look at this.”

And, fuck, you can’t look away. 

Toji’s gripping the red, angry base of his cock, giving the peak of your puffed-up clit a stinging smack! smack! smack! with the very tip of his weep, rotund head. 

And your overspilling pussy just clenches to coat his throbbing cock in such a milky gloss of cum and saturated slick, dredging down to form a creamy ring at the very bottom of his thick hilt. “Yeahhh- think you can handle it, heh.”

As soon as he’s bullying his length back in-between your sopping wet pussy lips, Toji just throws his head back, darkened eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His mouth just waters, heavy cum-filled balls squeezing so painfully, all the blood in his writhing body flowing into a thick knot at his base. And he has to hold himself back from marking down your neck once again. 

“Fuck- fuck yeah tha’s what m’talking- a-about.” His words are slurring now, heaving. You’ve taken him fully before - but he always grew so massive during this time - all the air knocks out of your lungs at how sinfully he stretched you wide open. “Gonna give ya a baby- gonna- ah- gonna make you such a pretty momma.”

And maybe it was because of the rut - maybe you were just that cockdrunk already - but Toji’s rough handling on your hips were veering into bruising territory. Leaving neat little fingernail patterns along your skin, making use of each and every bit of inhuman strength he had to hammer with such pressurized pummels into your poor pussy.

“Oh-” your jaw slacks open when his sloppy hips jerk you to and fro. It’s like his girth was just molding your plush walls to his size. The calloused curve of his thumb dances upwards to roll over your clit, “Feels so- hngh! So good Toji– oh my god-”

“Ya think god can hear ya right now, baby?” he’s leering, jutting his engorged dick upwards until it leaves a messy puddle of his swelteringly hot cum at your thighs, “Tell me how much you hah- want it.”

Each word is just spat at you, and your breathy little whimpers and moans mumble out into his cushiony pecs. “Want it s-so-”

There’s another mean smack against your sensitive clit. “Nuh uh. No stutterin’”

“Toji–!” Big fat tears are streaming down your eyes, ones he lolls his tongue out to catch. Groaning at the slightly salty taste, “Want it so- hah- so bad. Wan’ you to get me pregnant- ngh!”

Such a deep growl is hissed against your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all it takes before Toji’s breath hitches - rough - and he cums all over again. 

He barely even slows down, grunting out the hoarse mantra of your name. “Oh fuck-” Toji’s feet plant firmly on the silken sheets, arching his back in a tantalizing curve upwards. Achy cock pushing and pushing until he’s managing to squeeze that fattened knot at the very base of his cock through that first ring of muscle. And then he’s shooting such thick spurts of cum all the way into the very back of your pussy, coating your channel in drippingly wet coats of white. “Yeah- fuck- Take it all- m’gonna make you a- ohhh-” 

As if on cue, his teeth find their way back over where your pulse was thundering rapidly. Marking. Claiming. So filthy that it takes only a few more of his hurried, sloppy swivels before you’re cumming as well. 

You’re breathing out shallowly, smoothing out one of your palms over where you could feel the excess of his seed oozing down slowly along your womb. 

“Oh- don’t do that- f-fuck-” Toji was the one stuttering now, his unsteady hips trying desperately to get back that sultry push and pull from before. Difficult with his knot, he was cockwarming you so thoroughly now, all of his solid inches plugging you full - making sure you take his seed the way he wanted to. And it was killing him. 

“When this thing goes down-” He drags you by the throat to crash your lips against his. Free hand patting at your stomach, “-ya better know m’breedin’ ya once more. Until I physically can’t.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - BloodLUST

“Hngh- K-Ken-” your syrupy, slurred-out moans sounds so pretty in Nanami’s ears. So greedy just like the way your drippingly wet cunt calls to him, making such a primal part of himself rear its dark little head. ”It feels so- hah– good-”

“Does it now, my love?” Nanami’s intertwining his fingers with yours, gifting a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. His knees spread apart your trembly legs even further, fucking you harder and harder into the cushiony pillows.

God, the mating press he had you viciously folded into felt so torturously good. Exactly his favorite position to have you in - to spear his thick cock into you like an animal. Jostling out your insides until you were stretched tautly around his swelteringly hot cock, stuffed with so many of his solid inches that you could barely speak. 

Yeah, times like this, Nanami was so entranced by your cunt that his pussydrunk self lets his control slip - just a little bit. He could bare his gentle, fawny eyes with something dangerous. Something that had you gulping, nervous gaze flickering down to his sharply glistening fangs.

“Ken-” you’re pulling him closer by his favorite speckled tie - barely even bothering to change out of his work before he caught a whiff of your bubbly sweet scent. Before he just had to have you. Hot breath sending goosebumps down his spine, “I wan’ you to bite me-”

Slam!

Just the thought of that has him heaving his hand down onto the rickety headboard, jaw clenched. Gritting out, “Don’t- fuck, don’t say things you’re not s-sure about.”

And all he gets is your protesting pout, thighs squeezing even tighter around his broad shoulders. Easily swallowing up every inch after inch that slammed so recklessly into your cunt, clingy ropes of precum seeping out of those bare edges. 

“But I am sure.” Your sweet coo makes him just throw his head back, and he can only pant and pant while you’re bringing up a tender hand up to cup his cheeks. Thumbing just barely over the pointed curl of his canines, “I’m sure I want you to f-fuck bite- me-”

It’s like he’s trying to fuck that little plea out of you. Dragging you down those damply silken sheets with one of his big beefy arms. The other smushing your cheeks together, “Tha’s jus’ this needy pussy talkin’, darling.”

“But Ken don’t you wanna be with m-”

“Hush, now.” he’s dragging a slick thumb over the gaping opening of your pretty pussy, eyeing down in wonder at just how much you seemed to clench at this conversation. Your already drenchingly wet channel sputtering out wave after sloppy wave of squelches each time he buried himself to his blond hilt. “Of course- I wish to only be with you for s’long as you’ll have me.” All the way until Nanami was sure he’d leave the lingering convulses of your pussy clamping around nothing, until your eyes were drooping shut, and those pretty whines were all that smart mouth of yours could get out. “But dontcha think s’better to be human? Better than- this-”

Each of his pressurized plunges have the bed creaking protestingly - absolutely no match, and it was a wonder that you hadn’t broken bones. Yet. 

But you knew that Nanami Kento would never hurt you.

It’s what has you dragging him in for a deep kiss, letting him moan harmonically into your mouth. “M’sure.” Drawling out before he could get a second word in, you’re threading your fingers through his undercut, tugging just slightly enough that his breath hitches in a fully deep gasp. “Please- I wanna be with you Ken-” He’s turning to kiss the golden band of your recent engagement ring, slow and lingering. “-forever.”

Nanami just swallows, “As you wish, my love.”

And then he’s biting you - and then you’re cumming. Only, you don’t know which one comes first.

Just that suddenly your fiancé’s surging his hulking body forwards, crushing you under the heavy weight he can’t hold back. Glinting fangs sinking deep into your booming pulse with a raspy groan, you see white - cumming and cumming so hard that all you can do is drag your nails down his muscled back. 

“Oh-” Nanami gasps out, heaving - as if he’d just run a marathon. He’s holding you so sweetly, but fucking you as roughly as your semi-human body would allow. He only parts with your neck for a split-second, before running his hot tongue over and over in long, languid stripes. Drinking you in. Greedy. “Y’taste so sweet- fuck, always smelt so good but- ahhh fuck you taste so- so perfect.”

It’s only a matter of a few sloppy thrusts into your gooey heaven, him just dragging out your high by knocking feverishly into each of your practiced sweets spots. And with a final, slurping lick - Nanami’s cumming.

SNAP!

His thrumming dick flagging once. Twice. Before gushing out in such wet strands of seed, a creamy mess which fills you from the inside out. Only then is Nanami pulling away, letting you see him in all his utterly fucked-out glory - neat hair askew, high cheekbones blushing, mouth snapping with strands of saliva and your blood. It trickles down the twitching corner of his mouth, smearing lewdly when he rests his face atop your jiggling tits. 

His entire body is shaking. Sensitive. Fuck, he’s almost wondering why he didn’t do this sooner.

“Gonna be mine now.” he utters, guttural and deep from within his panting chest. Shallow. Needy. Jerking forwards in addictive little ruts, his furious cock was still beading out pearlescent ribbons of cum. Overfilling you to the brim. It was stretching out your insides full, dredging down each of your sopping wet wall with each fucked out rut. “Mine.”

Nanami takes his hand off of the now-demolished headboard, intertwining his thick fingers with yours. Kissing that metallic band, “Forever.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Mr. Leader

“Such a naughty girl ya are.” Geto simpers in that dangerously soft tone of his, two of his long, slender fingers draw a sultry circle around the very rim of your sloppily stuffed hole. Just coating it in a glossy sheen of his own cum from earlier tonight, he’s holding it up at the stony-faced crowd on the platform below you two. “Won’t you agree?”

And you can only scrunch your eyes shut in embarrassment at the ripples of whispers - agreement, no doubt, it’s not like anyone had the courage to test your cult leader boyfriend’s patience. Except for you.

“S-Sugu-” you whine. “Don’ hafta be so mean about it-”

You regret the words as soon as they’re tumbling out of your mouth, because that’s all it takes for Geto to unapologetically circle his pretty fingers around the column of your neck. Hauling your pliant self up to straddle his bulgingly angry cock for everyone to see. 

“What was that?” he whispers, lips curling up into a grin. And at your lack of an answer, he’s moving - rocking back and forth in such a slow, purposeful pace. Fingers tightening, “Would you care to repeat that, gorgeous?”

“N-no- ah!” you shake your head, entire body wracking with shudder at the feeling of the absolute mess he was making inside you. Sloshing all over the place, down your trembly thighs, pooling onto the association’s platform. Your hands are jittery once they grab onto his velvety robes, “Didn’t- hngh- didn’t mean it, Sugu…” 

A pout teases its way onto Geto’s face, and with no remorse he’s bending your back into the sluttiest arch for him. Showing off the way those puffy pussy lips of yours were struggling so sinfully around his thick girth, barely being able to accommodate each of the greedy inches you were swallowing so quickly.

“What do you think?” he groans, and you realize with a jolt that he’s not talking to you now. Taunting fingers scissor open your overfilled cunt even more, just having you gapingly held open, “Should I go easy on her?”

Geto doesn’t wait for an answer, instead he’s leveraging that powerful hold around your throat to just drag you down every inch of his thick, throbbing cock. Biting down on his lower lip at the way your gummy walls were so clingy. 

You’re whining an audible ah! ah! ah! at each of his hefty clashes against your g-spot - it echoes all throughout the stage and makes Geto laugh. Laugh.

“They might tell me to go easy-” he’s whispering against your ear, biting down smugly on your jaw. You’re trapped - so utterly helpless in his grasp and fuck do you want it so bad. “-but I don’t know if my girl deserves it.”

Each word of his drips straight to your velvety cunt, clenching in such a lewd pulse that Geto almost considered teasing you about how hard it was to fuck into you just the way he wanted. 

Your sweaty palms cup his face, bringing your lips crashing against his in such a messy, messy kiss. “Please- Hngh- I want it- wanna cum, Sugu. Wanna have you cum in m- mmpf–!”

He’s cutting you off with a harsh suck on your delirious tongue, and another pressurized thrust right into the very depths of your sloppy pussy. You’re all but bawling when he stutters up even harder at his sloppy pace - just rawly bucking up into you, making you take each sweltering kiss his thick head places along your plush walls. 

“Want want want-.” Geto hisses against your lips, gnawing down in warning against them. “All want- I’ve been fuckin’ you for hours now n’ you’re still s-so hah- demanding, gorgeous.” 

His slyly dripping undertone makes you rut your drenched cunt even harder down onto his smackingly sharp pelvis. Another spreading swipe against your sloppily full cunt reveals more of his potent seed dripping out, a sight that makes his mouth water. “Even after I’ve given you so hah- much, still want more, huh?”

And all you can do is nod half-drunkenly, “Want it.” And he has to admire how well you take his bullying thrusts. “Want it, please, Sugu?”

“Well-” that attractively authoritative tone of his voice makes you even more embarrassingly soaked. Planting a slidingly wet kiss against your lips, he raises his voice. “Whaddaya say? Think she’s learned her lesson enough to cum?”

Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear a low “yes.” But you can’t look over your shoulder - not with his steady, vice-like grip still blocking most of your airway. No, but you can just feel the moment when Geto’s bulbously swollen tip just twitches against your cervix, when his smacking balls clench. So hard, so tight.

And the only warning you get - “Cum then, naughty girl.”

Within a few more messy strikes to your g-spot, you do - and it’s all over Geto’s pounding cock, your snug pussy is just gushing all over his crushing hips. Light-headed, vision tinging with black, your nails claw furious red patterns down his wrist at your throat.

“Fuuuuck- yeah, milk yourself. Fuck yourself down on my cock while you cum.” Geto breathes out, voice lilting a few octaves higher than usual. His widened dark eyes lay locked on where your cunt was still coating him in all your slick juices, honeyed and syrupy down into a puddle. “Squirtin’ all over my cock i-in front of- hah- all these people? Ya really are something else, gorgeous.”

Slack-jawed, his glassy gaze only droops in disbelief at the sight of those dredges of cum and your juices dripping down the sopping wet ends of your slit. The way it slipped and slided between you two to make such a glossy mess. “Wastin’ it, too.” 

And you can’t do anything but gasp when his fingers dig even further around your throat, talking - not  you. “Now, do I hafta teach her a lesson about wastin’?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Lookin’ at his t-t-t-FACE!”

“Baby-”

“...”

“Baby, please.” Choso’s gasping, his rounded Adam’s apple bobbing precariously at where you held his pretty little knife deftly to his neck. And despite that, it was the last thing on his mind. “Please- jus’ want ya to fuckin’ move-”

You have to hold back your drunken giggles when he’s practically knocking off his ghostface mask in haste, hurrying to grab a handful of your ass. Squeezing. Kneading. Dragging you downwards to feed inch by fucking inch of his needy cock into your glistening cunt. “Move those pretty hips f’me, why dontcha?”

“Hmmm…” you’re dragging out in that honeyed tone of yours. And it makes the dangerous man just huff so poutily in a way you wished you could kiss away - if only that mask wasn’t in the way, that is. You tug on a soft raven strand of his hair peeking out, “Only if you take that mask off.”

And that makes him keen. It makes him sob. 

It makes him bury his face into the crook of your sweat-sheened neck, easing another riotous half-thrust up into your silken smooth pussy, you’re practically cockwarming him now. “B-but-” Choso whimpers - whimpers. 

One that cracks so lewdly at the end when your cunt gives a clingy squeeze, massaging down the ridges and veins decorating his fat cock. The feeling makes him throw his head back, lips glistening with fucked-out drool. 

He’s trying oh-so-desperately to swivel his achy cock even deeper inside you, hips jutting upwards to rummage your insides tentatively. The very bulbous tip of his cock swirling your insides so deliciously. 

“Please-”

“Take it off.”

Such a pretty cry wrenches out of Choso’s mouth when your glossed lips press a chaste peck onto his mask, accompanied by such a slutty arch of your hip downwards. Snug cunt milking him with just an ounce of what he was begging for. Just a taste. “Please- please please plase- fine- fuck! You win! Just please-” And you’re barely even given the time to react before he’s snatching back the knife in your hands. Cutting off his mask in an easy motion. “-fuck me!”

And oh was this ghostfaced intruder so pretty - his dark, dewy eyes filled to the brim with pussydrunk tears, lids drooping down slowly when he feels himself twitch. Hair disheveled and damp, there was such an innocently rosy blush all over his cheeks. 

With wobbly, ravaged lips, he pleads, “Please. Fuck me, baby. Use me.”

And you just can’t help but slam your stuttering hips so sloppily down onto his, feeling the echoing smack! of his tight balls sting against your ass. Just two seconds of your riding him has him whining, his greedy hands didn’t know where to be now - at your poor, neglected clit, or maybe guiding your tantalizingly perky nipples to his mouth, maybe even letting you take back his prized knife. 

“Oh-” your mouth crashes messily into his. Hypnotic. Each push and pull of your tongues is accompanied by your sopping wet pussy coating him in another wave after wave of syrupy slick. It leaves him speechless. “Such a pretty, pretty boy. What a hah- shame you wear that mask.”

His head was so fucked. Just that little compliment makes him throb, hauling you down even further to feel his syrupy sweet precum sloshing around your gummy walls. The angry rounded divot on his fat head jostling inside you to bang right into your poor g-spot. It just felt so good.

“You- you think I’m hngh- pretty?” He’s batting his long lashes up at you, and you feel his strong arms tighten around the small of your waist. Your hardened nipples scratch so tantalizingly against the fabric of his thick black cloak. “You really- really think I’m-”

Each word is heaved out in-between such sloppy thrusts, and the way you’re sucking him up so needily - so heavenly makes him moan. And you could’ve sworn you felt his achy shaft grow two sizes larger, contorting your elastic walls.

Sucking on your tongue between his pretty lips, “You’re so- fuuuck- didn’t know it could feel this good. Ngh- please- more- want more-”

“So greedy–” you teasing, eyeing down at the way that only makes his blush grow darker. But that doesn’t stop him - no, the very thought of stopping isn’t anywhere on Choso’s mind. 

In fact, he’s only shuddering out a few sloppy thrusts into your gummy cunt before taking your sensitive clit between two fingers. Rolling his thumb gingerly, he mewls through lingering kisses. “Does it feel good, baby?” And oh he can’t take his eyes off of you, rutting upwards to chase after the lewd squelch! squelch! squelch! from down below. “You’re ah- t-taking me so ngh, well. Fuck-” Head just throwing back at the mere sight of your puffy folds stretching out widely around his girth, bulging when he unapologetically bullies every inch of him. “Please- tell me it feels good.”

Your grip just sears across his scalp when you tangle your fingers through his soft strands, baring his entirely pussydrunk face. His fucked-out grin, the way each bouncing pace of your hips had it growing wider and wider, eyes rolling to the back of his head. So pretty.

“Mhm, so good, Cho–” you moan, your fully stuffed cunt flutters at just how shamelessly that makes him throb. Letting you hover his knife just barely up, up, up his heaving chest, nipping lightly at Choso’s pale neck. “Makes me so hah- h-happy when you’re behaving f’me. Like you’re my good boy.”

He’s nodding before you’re even finishing the sentence, one hand tightening at your waist. Bruisingly so. The other drawing insistent, messy little circles, “Mhm, m’your good boy– always gonna be- hngh-” It drags from his throat guttural and raw. Leaning up to kiss such a sloppy kiss against your lips, “N’ I wanna fuck you like I am, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Demon time?

“Tch-” You’re gulping when the towering demon in front of you quirks up his brow sharply. Admonishingly. Crossing all four of his arms over his muscled chest while you sat all pretty and fucked-out on his manspread lap. “How are ya gonna summon the king of curses n’ not even be able to take both his dicks, brat?”

He’s rolling his eyes at you’re protesting little whines, shifting done further on his decadent throne to have his fat cockspearheading even deeper. 

Smack! All five of his thick fingers burn brandingly into the fat of your ass, the very motion makes you jump, your trembly legs tightening around his toned waist. 

“Now now, I didn’t say to jus’ act all cute n’ cockdrunk, did I?” His rough hands push apart your legs even more, another third hand is slotting into the hot core between your legs. And Sukuna smiles at the way you’re so soppingly wet, squeezing your puffed-up folds even further apart to swallow his twin girths. “All I want is for you to- take- it-”

Oh, right now you couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe with the way it felt like Sukuna was stretching out your insides so sinfully. Your pussy being stuffed to her poor limits, both of his hefty cocks bully their greedy way inside you. 

“O-oh–” you’re whining so sweetly in his ear when one of his fat, bulbous tips press up into your g-spot. Slow. Still. But not for long - because that large, ravenous tongue split across Sukuna’s abs open wide to slurp at your pulsing clit. Depraved. “Kuna- oh my god it f-feels so good- hngh-”

“Kuna?” he seethes. Each of his stacked cocks find their way knocking at your womb, marking you where no human had before - exactly how he liked it. “You dare call the king of curses “Kuna” brat?”

Tearily, you look up into his glowingly red eyes, “M’-m’sorry, Sukuna- didn’t think-”

But any and all answer is purposefully being fucked out of your now thoroughly hazy brain. He’s grabbing at your hips to plunge into your drippingly wet channel, brandishing that tongue on his stomach to roll harshly over your clit. Circling the very tip over and over the sensitive nub - all while he simply lounged on his royal throne. 

“Didn’t tell ya to not call me that, did I?” Sukuna scoffs, and if you were in any better state of mind you could’ve sworn that there was a light tinge of red tainting the very tips of his ears. “Tch- now don’t you fuckin’ look at me with those pretty eyes-” He’s giving your ass another clingy smack! Having you bouncing up and down easily along both of his impressive girth. “If ya wanna be fucked by a demon so bad then be fucked, woman.”

And shit- you could already feel the way his sharp hipbones dug into your ass, the resounding thwack! thwack! thwack! of his heavy, twitching balls echoing across the dimly-lit throne room you’d been thrust into. 

“Please- Kuna–” your arms make their limp way around his neck. And the slight change in angle has him assaulting into the line of your cervix, fucking two girthy divots into the spongy bottom. You crane upwards to kiss him in a way that makes him smile at how you struggle. “M’gonna feel ya for the next week, hngh- s’so much better than any human–”

Smack!

“What a naughty little minx ya are.” he jeers, but you could feel the way his throbbing cocks weep happily at your admission. Flooding your cunt with splatters of heated precum, slobbering out of you with each of his animalistic rams. “Really underestimated you, little human- hah! N’ look at you now, about to cum all because of a big bad demon. Aren’t ya embarrassed?” 

You couldn’t shake your delirious head “no” fast enough, and not wasting a moment’s time Sukuna’s planting such a deep kiss on your pouty lips. “Well then, aren’t you an interesting one, huh? Begging for the king’s cock.”

“Mhm–” you’re mewling, gliding your drooling pussy easily down his bulging cock. “Wan’ you- wanna cum- wanna- hah-”

You’re gifted with another one of his mean slaps, “Make up ya damn mind, brat. So greedy.”

But he doesn’t stop - doesn’t even think of it, actually. Because Ryomen Sukuna would never admit it but fuck, were you so perfect like this. So gorgeous. So very his. 

You’re already so full of him that you could almost spot the massive outlines of where he was steadily attacking your sweet spots. Draw a line across where he ended, rotund heads marking their way inside.

That he can’t help but increase that strikingly sloppy staccato of his, fucking you repeatedly stupid. He just lunges forwards to have you riding both his monster cocks and his tongue, the stimulation of it making him bite his lower lip. 

“Oh- yeah–” It takes every embarrassed fiber of his being to stop from rolling his eyes to the back of his head. The fourth of his beefy hands coming up to tweak your hardened nipples, tugging and teasing - just barely treading with his long nails. “Cum all over my cocks then if ya- hngh- if ya like it that much.” His feral hips snap! up even harder, leaving you with a final, unforgettable smack! “Cum for me, my queen.”

“Fuck- m’cumming-” you’re whining not even a split-second later. Head thrown back, your hips stutter down frantically to meet his, over and over- you can’t stop. He can’t stop. “M’cumming m’cumming- fuck fuck fuck, Kuna-”

Two of his engulfing arms wrap around you, pinning you to his cushiony pecs. He’s wrenching out each white-hot spark of pleasure, making your toes curl at every clash against the bullseye of your g-spot, every blissful lick to your clit. He groans throatily, smug grin simpering in place, “Yeah- heh, best believe m’keepin’ you after this.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Madam.

There’s such a saccharine sweet whine leaving Gojo’s pouty mouth, fingers twitching wildly where they were pinning you down onto the cushiony pillows. “F-fuck- stop- hah, stop squeezin’ me like that or m’gonna cum early on our wedding- night-”

You can only jitter your hips back into his even further, knees aching from holding you up for so long now. Just a few hours ago you’d been wedded to the infamous head of the Gojo clan and now - well, now he was well and fully intent on proving to everyone in this estate exactly why you’d make the perfect madam.

“Toru–” you’re mewling, looking over your trembly shoulder to spy upwards at him. Fuck, the elders would faint if they saw how utterly defiled he was right now. 

His strong arms twitchy and flexing with each hammering thrust, the weight of his muscled thigh hiked up to pummel at the very bottom of your spongy pussy. You felt so soft, so soppingly wet inside with sloshes of his seed from before coating him with each passing second. 

“Heh.” Gojo hovers forwards to pat at your tummy, cutely bloated with all of his throbbingly thick inches. “All stuffed full of me- isn’t that right, wifey?”

“Y-yes.” 

“Nuh uh, louder, sweetheart.” he cuts off your babbling. “Wan’ everyone in this godforsaken house to hear.”

The bed creaks in sinful synchrony with your sappy whines, and the lingering smack! of his hips against yours, achy cum-filled balls sticking to your thighs. Shit, he saw stars behind his eyes with each clingy pull out of your tight pussy - and it drove him mad. 

“I-  I want-”

“Louder.”

“Fuck- yes!” It’s just about all you can get out before he’s crashing his pussydrunken-grin against yours in a messy clash of a kiss. Tongue lolling out to suck on yours, glassy eyes drooping just barely shut. You moan, “I want you to cum inside me again- Now. Gimme an hngh- heir.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck, that did it. 

“You want an heir?” he breathes, and it’s about several octaves higher than normal. Raspy. Reverant. “An heir- fuck!” Suckling softly on your neck, “S’my pretty wife wants an heir, huh?”

The very thought makes him giddier than it should’ve, and oh he’s choking back guttural whimpers. The sensitive divot at the very end of his swollen cock emitting steamingly hot wisps of milky white precum already. 

“Mhm–” you’re nodding, keening at the hefty weight of his muscled body pressing down into yours. Rippling abs rubbing up and down against your back at each jaggedly sloppy thrust, it’s like he’s just hauling you further and further up the decadent mattress. Batting your tearful lashes. “Want it so bad- Wontcha breed me, Toru? Fill me up?”

At this, one of his massive arms comes down to press hard at your womb. And fuck he was practically squeezing you dry, letting the thickly hot dredges of his cascade down your thighs. 

“Ohhhh yes. Look at that.” he’s groaning, the curving head of his fat cock bumping into those various ridges of your sweet spots inside. “Already so full of me and you hngh- w-want more? The new madam is getting bossy, hm?”

God, you felt so good that you’re scrambling towards those plushy expensive covers. Stammering out, feeling so delirious and stupid on his massive cock. “S-so what? What if I jus’ wan’ make you a daddy?”

He’s kissing oh-so-gently against your spit-glossed pout, acting for all the world as if his vigorous cadence isn’t just rendering you half-speechless. “Nothing wrong- ah- nothing wrong at all, in fact.”

That squelching staccato from down below was so loud now that you were sure it would be heard. But Gojo didn’t care - the last thing on his mind in fact. Gojo’s driving even more vigorously to kiss your g-spot with more of his precum. “In fact- I just hope that every one of those fuckers know it.”

And perhaps tomorrow, none of those usually-sneering elders will look you in the eye, and all of the housestaff will blush when they see your state - but right now, all you’re doing is cumming. 

“T-Toru–!” you’re screaming out, letting him grab both your wrists from behind you to drill himself even more solidly. He’s letting all the sloppy mess from before pool down onto the sheets, a lewd puddle that makes him slip n’ slide even deeper inside. “M’cumming- fuck fuck fuck- m’cumming ah-”

And Gojo only flashing you a leering smirk, hoisting you upwards to fuck you through each and every one of those crashing waves of pleasure, those jolts of electricity that have you twitchy so perfectly around his considerably large girth. “Heh- I already know, sweetheart. Can feel ya- hngh- trynna milk me- fuck. This pussy’s too- hah- good-”

His smug smile is dipping away from his pretty face, sweat perspiring like crazy across his lolling forehead. And before long, Gojo’s crying out your name like a broken mantra. Rough hands coming to pin you up against his hard muscled front, just pumping you full of every single one of his sticky ribbons of cum. 

It’s so hot, so potent, barrelling into your gummy walls and making you so soaked inside. His body shakes on top of yours, and you’re flinching at the soft pitter patter of his big, fat tears of sensitivity.

“Oh- my wife- my wife my wife-” he bites his bottom lip raw, head thrown back, throat shot. Cumming and cumming until he couldn’t anymore. Until his sensitive length was weeping nothing more than milky wisps of precum, blanks, even. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, he watches the sheer volume of seed slobber from between your syrupy sweet folds, squelch squelch squelch so loud it rings across his ears. 

Satoru catches your lips in such a gentle, gentle kiss, “Again. I don’t think the entire estate knows they’re having an heir soon, yet.”

A/N. Hnghgh vampire Nanami - also I headcanon that the elders got the Gojo Estate soundproofed after that.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[weaselle]

i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

[angeltism]

Aqua 'Lady Furina' Angeltism, would you do me the honor of being my totally platonic date to a masquerade ball where we dance together, and eventually sneak off into a quieter room, and stare longingly into each others eyes before I tilt your mask back, and kiss you. Platonically.

AFAHDJSHSHFJSAAKJDJSJSJSJJSSAAAAAA ANON THIS FLUSTERED ME SM?? I would love to do all of those things omg <3

[gilliebee]

uses my first genie wish to be the guy getting checked into the boards by brick

and my second to be the guy cherishing the fuck outta him and getting a head rustle for his efforts

[strang3lov3]

Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter. 

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there. 

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew. 

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration. 

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.” 

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.” 

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.” 

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.” 

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add. 

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.” 

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes. 

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.” 

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.” 

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been. 

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.” 

“You are, too.” 

“Am not.” 

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.” 

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.” 

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle. 

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?” 

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things. 

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed. 

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home. 

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.” 

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him. 

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.” 

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases. 

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.” 

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.” 

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.” 

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse. 

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.” 

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.” 

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.” 

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?” 

“Just lay down, Joel.” 

“Did you take that from my fridge?” 

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so. 

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!” 

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.” 

“How many times do I have to say it?” 

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him. 

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” 

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.” 

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time. 

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”  

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature. 

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly. 

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.” 

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.” 

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?” 

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

 You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.” 

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man. 

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

 “Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.” 

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him. 

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.” 

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.” 

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.” 

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing. 

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.” 

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.” 

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him. 

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.” 

 Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders. 

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

 “Just - just a second.”

 “Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.” 

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone. 

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone. 

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them. 

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.” 

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself  in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now. 

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.” 

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.” 

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.” 

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -” 

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.” 

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest. 

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying. 

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it. 

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles. 

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest. 

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.” 

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.” 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips. 

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?” 

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

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[poltergeistsidekick]

The doctor is gonna see you now 👀