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#Med-PaLM 2
alinladaru · 3 months
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Med-PaLM and Med-PaLM 2: Revolutionizing Medical Industry
Med-PaLM (Medical Pre-trained Language Model) is a cutting-edge AI language model that has been specifically designed to cater to the complex and diverse challenges in the field of medicine. Developed by OpenAI, Med-PaLM represents a significant leap forward in medical language understanding and has the potential to revolutionize various aspects of healthcare, research, and patient care. This…
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swacchabarta · 10 months
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Med-PaLM 2: মেডিকেল বিজ্ঞানের নতুন অধ্যায়ে সৃষ্টির উদ্ভব!
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Med-PaLM 2: মেডিকেল বিজ্ঞানের একটি অগ্রগামী উদ্ভাবন
মেডিকেল বিজ্ঞান ও তথ্য প্রযুক্তির সংগম মানবজনকে নতুন সৃষ্টির দিকে নিয়ে যেতে এগিয়ে যাচ্ছে। মেড-প্যালম ২ একটি ভৌত সফলতা, যা এই দ্বিতীয় প্রজন্মের গ্যাপটি পূরণ করে এবং মেডিকেল বিজ্ঞানের ক্ষেত্রে এক নতুন পরিবর্তন সৃষ্টি করে। এই ব্লগে, আমরা মেড-প্যালম ২ এর সাথে পরিচয় করব।
Med-PaLM 2 হল কী?
মেড-প্যালম ২ হল OpenAI দ্বারা তৈরি একটি ভৌত ভাষা মডেল। এটি একটি শক্তিশালী নিউরাল ভাষা মডেল, যা প্রসারিত রাখার জন্য বিশেষভাবে গঠিত হয়েছে। এই মডেল ব্যাক্তিগত বোঝার ক্ষমতা বৃদ্ধি করে এবং মানুষের মতো ভাবে প্রস্তুতি করতে পারে সমস্যা সমাধান করার জন্য উপযুক্ত উত্তর। মেড-প্যালম ২ এর সাথে কার্যকর সামঞ্জস্য এবং জনপ্রিয়তা এটি একটি সুস্থ বিজ্ঞানী ও চিকিৎসকের জন্য একটি প্রাকটন সমর্থন করে।
Med-PaLM 2 এর সুবিধাসমূহ
১. প্রসারণ এবং উন্নত ভাষা বোঝার ক্ষমতা: Med-PaLM 2  ভাষা বোঝার ক্ষমতা বৃদ্ধি করে এবং উন্নত সুসংবাদ ক্ষমতা সরবরাহ করে। এটি সমস্যা সমাধান করতে পারে এবং চিকিৎসকের ক্লিনিকাল ডিসিশন মেইকিং সাপোর্ট করতে সাহায্য করে।
২. ভাষা দ্বারা চিকিৎসা: Med-PaLM 2 বৃদ্ধি করে ভাষা দ্বারা চিকিৎসা সেবা। মানুষের ব্যক্তিগত চিকিৎসা প্রদান করার জন্য মেডিকেল রিপোর্ট এবং বিবরণী লিখতে মানুষ কাজে লাগাতে পারে।
৩. চিকিৎসকের শিক্ষা ও প্রশিক্ষণ: মেড-প্যালম ২ এর মাধ্যমে শিক্ষকরা চিকিৎসকের প্রশিক্ষণ এবং শিক্ষার সাথে মেডিকেল বিষয়ে তাদের জ্ঞান আপগ্রেড করতে পারে।
৪. কৃত্রিম বুদ্ধিমত্তা ও স্বয়ংক্রিয় শোধ: মেড-প্যালম ২ এর মাধ্যমে বুদ্ধিমত্তা এবং স্বয়ংক্রিয় শোধ প্রযুক্তি ব্যবহার করা যায়, যা মেডিকেল পরিদৃশ্য এবং মোকাবিলা উপকারের জন্য দরকারী হতে পারে।
Med-PaLM 2 এর অগ্রগামী ব্যবহার
১. রোবোটিক চিকিৎসা: Med-PaLM 2 এর সাহায্যে একটি সুস্থতা রোবোট তৈরি করা হতে পারে, যা চিকিৎসকের প্রায়োগিক জ্ঞান এবং নির্দেশনা মুছে ফেলতে পারে।
২. চিকিৎসা প্রদানে স্বয়ংক্রিয় সহায়ক: মেড-প্যালম ২ এর সাথে কার্যকর স্বয়ংক্রিয় সহায়ক সিস্টেম বানানো যায়, যা মর্মিক চিকিৎসা এবং চিকিৎসা সরঞ্জামে চাকরি করতে পারে।
৩. ভৌত চিকিৎসা বিষয়ক স্থায়ী প্রশিক্ষণ: মেড-প্যালম ২ এর মাধ্যমে ভৌত চিকিৎসা বিষয়ে শিক্ষকরা তাদের জ্ঞান আপগ্রেড করতে পারে, এটি সেই সাথে একটি ভৌত চিকিৎসা তত্ত্বের উন্নত সৃষ্টির দিকে সহায়ক হতে পারে।
গুরুত্বপূর্ণ বিষয়: Med-PaLM 2 এর নিয়ন্ত্রণ এবং সুরক্ষা
Med-PaLM 2 একটি বৃহত্তর ভাষা মডেল, তাই এর ব্যবহার করার জন্য এটি নিয়ন্ত্রণে রাখা গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। এটি সমস্ত ভাষা সম্প্রসারণে প্রযোজনীয় নীতি সৃষ্টি করতে আগ্রহী এবং এটি ন্যায্য উদ্দীপনা ও নেতিবাচক উদ্দীপনা দিতে হবে। মেড-প্যালম ২ এর ব্যবহার করতে চেষ্টা করার সময়, ব্যক্তিগত ও গোপনীয়তা সংরক্ষণ করা গুরুত্বপূর্ণ।
Med-PaLM 2 : মেডিকেল জগতে ভাষা প্রযুক্তির একটি নতুন অধ্যায়
মেড-প্যালম ২ এর বিকাশ মেডিকেল বিজ্ঞানের জন্য একটি অগ্রগামী ধাপ। এটি চিকিৎসা, চিকিৎসকের শিক্ষা এবং সংশ্লিষ্ট অন্যান্য ক্ষেত্রে ভাষা প্রযুক্তির প্রয়োগের নতুন দিকে উত্থানে একটি প্রমুখ ভূমিকা পালন করবে। মেড-প্যালম ২ এর সুস্থ প্রগতির জন্য, এটির উন্নতি এবং সুরক্ষা সরবরাহ করতে এবং ব্যক্তিগত তথ্য সংরক্ষণের গুরুত্ব উপস্থাপন করা উচিত। মেড-প্যালম ২ এর সাথে, বিশ্বের চিকিৎসকদের সাথে একটি নতুন সমৃদ্ধ ভাষা সংবাদ স্থাপন হতে পারে যা মানবকে স্বাস্থ্যসম্পর্কিত সমস্যার উপর পর্যাপ্ত প্রভাব ফেলতে সক্ষম হতে পারে।
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ledmagnate · 11 months
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Google Med-Palm 2 AI gets 86.5% accuracy replacing doctors
Google Med-Palm 2 AI was introduced in March 2023 at Google’s Annual Health event. Dr. Alan Karthikesalingam introduced the new research on Med-PaLM 2, to provide high-quality, authoritative answers to medical questions. Google’s new research revolutionizes various aspects of healthcare, offering innovative solutions that enhance patient outcomes, improve operational efficiency, and support…
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otherworldlyinfo · 11 months
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Google's Med-PaLM 2: Testing AI Chatbot for Medical Questions
Google’s Bet on Med-PaLM 2The Battle for AI Dominance in HealthcarePotential Risks and SafeguardsRace Among Rivals: Microsoft’s RoleDevelopment and ChallengesBalancing Accuracy and RelevanceEthical Considerations and Patient EducationConclusion Google is stepping up its efforts in the healthcare industry by testing an artificial intelligence program called Med-PaLM 2. The program aims to…
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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1fur1 Price part 2
(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)
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The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.
Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…
Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.
He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.
You appreciate the help.
It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.
“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.
Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.
Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.
“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”
You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.
Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.
“Jesus, enough!” You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”
He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.
“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”
You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.
“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.
You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.
“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.
You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.
“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.
With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.
“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”
A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.
“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”
Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.
So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.
You’re being minded.
It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.
“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”
And work he does.
If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.
And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.
There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.
It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.
“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”
Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.
“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”
A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.
“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.
Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.
“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.
All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.
“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”
Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.
“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”
You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.
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covetyou · 8 months
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the best of the world in the palm of our hands
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part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5
ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con (reader is paying a debt), pussy spanking, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (f receiving), cumplay, anal play (blink and you'll miss it), derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, joel miller is a massive slut word count: 4.9k chapter summary: You find a way to pay your fathers debts
A/N: pussy spanking! lets go! you know the old saying, open mind open legs.
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work
song: damage gets done by Hozier
Your dad had been rationing his pain meds for months, barely taking one every two days now that the world had gone to shit and they were so much harder to come by - and so much more expensive as a result. Lean times were made leaner still by missed shifts and slow work, which meant for even fewer pills to ration out.
Eventually, you would listen, night after night, as he groaned and writhed in pain, meds long gone. Nights like that meant another missed shift, fewer ration cards, and the ever looming threat of debtors coming to collect on what was theirs.
That was the situation that had brought you here, to his door. Desperation, and a debt needing to be paid.
Your knock on the door sounds sharp in the silence of the hallway. You're in a "nicer" part of the QZ - the apartment block cleaner and less crammed full of bodies than others. Here there are fewer people to care, fewer people to see. Fewer people to hear you scream.
The door in front of you suddenly flies open and you wretch you head around, straightening your back. You'd told yourself you'd play it cool, but already you were failing.
Joel Miller, self appointed pharmacist, medication supplier, drug dealer, stands before you. He's tall and broad, taking up almost the entire doorway as he rests one hand on top of the frame. He ticks one hip to the side and tucks his fingers through his belt loops.
You'd seen him from a distance, people pointing with whispers of "that's him", but never up close. Flecks of gray dance around the scruff on his jaw, his dark brown eyes wrinkling as he assesses you. The firm expanse of him so much more intimidating from this distance, you square yourself before you speak.
"I -" you begin, but he immediately cuts you off.
"I don't do business in the hallway," he drawls. "This is business, right?" he quirks a dark eyebrow at you.
You nod, all words snatched from your brain. You'd never heard him before - his southern drawl sounding cocky as he sizes you up, standing meek and mild in the corridor.
"S'always business. Come in then, sweetheart," he says, barely moving his body from blocking the doorway for you to squeeze past him. You push yourself against the door frame as much as possible so you don't drag your body along his.
The living room of his apartment is bigger than the entire place you share with your father. As far as you can tell, Joel lives here alone.
The door slams shut behind you, and heavy footsteps walk past you. Joel picks up a bottle and a single glass, pouring himself two fingers of whisky before setting the bottle back down and taking a sip. You knew you would be vulnerable, coming here alone, but you hadn't taken into account feeling trapped.
"So, what y'here for?"
"M-my dad, he's -"
"I know who your dad is, sweetheart. Seen you together. He owes me. Ain't heard from him in a few weeks. I asked what you're here for, not about your dad."
"Yeah," you nod, trying to feign confidence, "Yeah well, that's why I'm here. He needs more medicine."
"What I gave him weren't medicine, it ain't fixin' shit. I gave him pain relief. That's it."
"Well, he needs more. He's out, and he's hurting, and he can't work - " you ramble, but he cuts you off again.
"Now, sweetheart," he raises a finger to stop you. "I don't see why I should be giving you, or him, anythin'. I owe you nothin', and from where I'm standing, you're the one who owes me. Two weeks worth, right?"
Your eyes go wide. You were hoping he'd make it easier than this - go easy on you because you were a girl and you were here alone. You were hoping to play on his heartstrings, but you were starting to realise that maybe he didn't have one.
His glass thunks down on the table.
He circles you like a predator circles its prey, looking you up and down, assessing for weakness. You stare straight ahead, unwavering as possible.
He stops in front of you, tall and foreboding, before tilting your chin up with a single finger.
"You got the cards for that?"
You shake your head no.
He clicks his tongue, smiles, and says, "That's a damn shame". You have a feeling he doesn't think that at all.
"Dad's been hurting too much, he can't work, we haven't been able to get the cards, I've been trying I - "
"Looks like you'll have to do then," he shrugs, crossing his arms across his broad chest as he leans back against his dining table. "Show me what you can pay me with."
You'd never done this before - well, that was a bit of a lie. You'd done something like this, once, before, with someone else, someone different, someone who probably couldn't hurt you in the ways the massive figure of Joel Miller could hurt you.
You take two small steps toward him, and move to lower to your knees - you'd heard men like him accepted this mode of "payment" all the time - but he grabs your arm in one giant hand before you can make your descent.
You balk at him, "Wha - "
"I don't want a half-hearted blow job, sweetheart," he licks his lips and his thick fingers tug at the hem of your too big t-shirt. "Why don't you take this off. Show me what you can pay me with."
The implication was clear - he didn't want anything you could give him, but you had plenty he could take. Your breath hitches, but you don't let yourself hesitate for long.
Swallowing thickly, you yank your t-shirt over your head and dump it on the floor beside you in one swift action. You're painfully aware that your bra is the least flattering thing you could possibly be wearing - it's soft and old and entirely shapeless, but you weren't expecting to be stripping off for him. You shouldn't even care what he thinks of you but it'd been so long since anyone had seen your bare skin that even this twisted exchange felt like you should've made more of an effort.
You stare directly ahead, not daring to meet his eyes as heat flares in your cheeks. He stalks back to the table and picks up his whisky. You watch him raise it to his lips before he notices you looking. You haven't moved.
He's on you in an instant, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks with force as he directs your eyes to his. The heat still burns through your face, but you feel it start to snake traitorously down your spine.
"I said, show me or do you want me to fuckin' rip the rest off you."
Nodding, you scramble to remove the rest of your clothing. It's not sexy, why fucking would it be, and you fumble with the buttons on your pants longer than you'd like, but eventually you're stood entirely nude for him in his apartment.
A puff of air huffs out if his nose and his face twitches as he appraises you like some kind of show cattle. You don't know if he likes what he sees, but that traitorous drip of warmth down your spine hopes that he does. You can trick yourself into thinking it's because he might go easier on you if he likes you, but the longer you stand there under his gaze the more you don't want him to go easy on you.
"You are a pretty thing," he says, rubbing the scruff of his beard. "I think you got just the thing I need to let your dad off the hook, don't you? Might even throw something else in to sweeten the deal if you're extra good." He strokes your hair, and you try to hold back a shudder of arousal. Maybe he'll think it's fear, and maybe it is. Maybe it's both.
"How's that sound?" he prompts as he laces his fingers through your hair and tugs.
You look at his face, his eyes are dark, darker than before, the way he's looking at you makes that traitorous drip into a flood. "Okay."
He wordlessly grunts as he tugs your hair some more and pushes you toward a door on the otherside of the room, making you walk ahead of him.
Even with his hand in your hair, guiding you, your feet move of their own accord. You want to object, refuse, but you can't. You want this. You want a man like Joel - big, protective, in control - to pay you any attention. Whatever the cost.
One final nudge of your head and you stumble into the room as he releases you.
His bedroom is sparse, as expected. Interior decor went to shit with the end of the world, and Joel didn't seem like the kind of man who would've cared about that before anyway.
You stand at the foot of his bed looking down at your toes as they bunch and un-bunch in the carpet. You hear him come in and close the door. If you weren't trapped before you definitely are now. You don't look up at him, you can't, so your eyes remain fixed at your feet when his step into view.
"You ready to get on the bed for me, sweetheart?" His hand strokes gently across the swell of your breast as he talks to you. It's the first time he's really touched you and the flood down your spine has now gathered into a slick pool between your legs.
You do as you're asked sitting on the edge of his bed, feeling even smaller now as he towers over you. You could have been 8 feet tall and still felt small and vulnerable in this moment, Joel Miller cascading above you fully clothed.
A large hand rests on your shoulder, a gentle pressure pushing you to fall back to the mattress below.
"You lay back now. Relax."
You try not to scoff but you can't help it.
"Ain't goin' to hurt you. What good would that do me. I like my customers alive."
You take a deep breath and try to steady yourself with your back flush to the mattress, looking at him as he still hulks above you. You can do this. He'll just... take what he wants. And you'll let him. Then you'll be on your way.
He's still standing above you as he directs you. "Good girl. Now open your legs for me. Lemme see."
You take another deep breathe, hold, and exhale, opening your legs for him just a fraction.
"I'm a patient man, sweetheart, but when I tell you to do something, you fuckin' do it," he growls as he kicks your legs open further. You spread them even wider, wanting to keep on his good side. You're completely exposed and bare for him now. Everything is on display and he still towers over you, looking down at your naked form on his bed.
"Fuckin' beautiful," you think you hear him mutter as he moves to a crouch between your spread thighs. You hold your breath, tensing and try not to clamp your legs shut at his inspection.
"I'm just lookin', sweetheart," Fingers rub calming circles over the softness of your thighs and your legs twitch.
"Keep your fuckin' legs spread," he says with a sharp slap to your thigh. Gasping at the shock, you push your legs to spread as wide as they can. You feel obscene, so open for him and his hand strokes the spot he'd just struck, soothing it.
You were beginning to see how this would go - do exactly as he said and he'd be gentle. Disobey, or be slow on the uptake (patient man my ass) and you'd soon feel the sting of punishment. The thought of that makes you clench around nothing, and you curse under your breath as it's surely now drawn attention to just how wet you are.
You stare up at his yellowed ceiling and hear a chuckle from between your legs - he definitely fucking knows. You don't dare to look down, you just want him to get on with it, until suddenly fingers come dangerously close to your sex and pull you apart, spreading your bare cunt even more for him.
"Well, you're a pretty little thing," he says to your pussy.
The fingers, his thumbs you realise, massage up and down the sides of you, avoiding any direct touch to your folds, but massaging the flesh in such a delicious way that you can't help but feel it right where you need it most.
Joel hums as he moves to his knees, getting closer to your spread cunt, still rubbing his thumbs up and down the sides of you, gradually moving closer and closer to the center of your sex until he's dragging the tips of both thumbs through your wetness and up to the sides of your clit.
You take another deep breath and try to muffle your whimpers with pursed lips, trying to hold back a moan.
"She's likin' that," you hear the amusement in his voice, "I wonder if she'll like this." He moves one of his slicked thumbs directly above your clit and begins to gently stroke. Your hips jerk, unsure if it's toward or away from the pressure of his thumb.
"Oh, she does," and he applies more pressure, circling torturously around your nub as his other hand continues to explore your folds in gentle strokes, parting your opening with two fingers occasionally to see the wetness gathering there, to see how ready for him you are.
"You ever touch yourself like this?" he's talking to you again now, not your cunt.
"N-no," you stutter, as his thumb keeps its languid pace on your clit.
"You don't touch yourself? Y'look well old enough to have done this before."
"No, I-I do, just... not. Not like this."
Joel hesitates for just a moment, fingers stilling, before continuing on. "You like it though." It's not a question. "Tell me how you touch yourself." That wasn't either.
"I don't - I. Fuck," you hiss. You try to relax your grip on the sheets, but his rough thumb on your clit is distractingly good. "I - rub," you pant out.
"With fingers?"
"No," you squeeze your eyes shut. You can't say you expected much from this visit, but telling a stranger how you get yourself off in the dark of the night definitely was not on your list.
"Againstapillow," you mumble, a soft moan being pulled from shortly after as he increases the frequency of his circles on your clit.
"So you're a sweet girl whose sweet pussy only knows soft things?" he hums in thought. "Anything ever been in here?" his index finger circles around your opening, slick now dribbling out of you and being spread around by his thick finger. You must glisten.
You gulp down a sigh. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're getting at."
"That's good," he chuckles. "Can't imagine you'd want your first to be like this. Of course a pretty little slut like you has had somethin' in here before." His finger circles more around your hole, barley dipping inside as his well practiced thumb swipes firmly over your swollen clit.
Two thick fingers suddenly plunge into your dripping cunt with ease, stretching you. You pull back with the shock, trying to shuffle up the bed and away at the sudden intrusion, pulling his fingers from you. His hands grip your thighs, anchoring you down and pulling you back toward him.
"Did I say you could fuckin' move?" You shake your head. You didn't even mean to move. It felt good, it shouldn't feel fucking good, you were just surprised.
slap
You hear it before you feel it - a wide hand colliding bluntly with your exposed cunt, sending a sharp stinging, buzzing sensation straight back up your spine. You think your brain shuts off entirely for a second before you gasp for air.
"I know you wanna be good for me. You wanna do right by your sick old dad, right? Help him out of a tough spot?"
His entire palm engulfs your mound with ease, covering you completely as he massages his fingers side to side, easing the sting and jerking your clit in a way that has you rolling your hips and biting back a moan.
"Try getting away again and I'll give your worse than that," you push your pelvis toward him at his words. You really try not to be obvious in your disappointment, you want to be good, but you want it. You want worse. And you know he knows. "But be a good girl and I'll give you exactly what you want. That's why you're here, ain't it?"
Before you can answer he delivers several quick light smacks to your bare pussy. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough send the vibrations through you and straight to your struck clit. He removes his hand to look at your quickly reddening pussy before returning to smack you some more. You gasp, trying desperately to keep still and not moan at the building sensation he's pulling from you - you shouldn't be enjoying any of it at all, let alone this, but fuck you are. There's nothing violent about the way his hand is striking your naked cunt, the light slaps against you turning you on, zinging through you like a tuning fork being tapped on a hard edge.
You hear another laugh from between your legs.
"You've only been givin' it to her soft, sweetheart, when she's just crying out to have it rough."
He spanks your pussy again, this time you can't help the moan that escapes you, your back arching into his quick slap slap slap against your cunt. The speed of his palm slows, but the force increases, drawing obscene noises from you with each blow.
"Uh," the breath huffs out of you with each firm smack to your swollen cunt.
His hand pulls off of you and he spreads you wide again before a warm wet sensation draws up from your fluttering hole to your tender clit in a broad stroke. He's soothing your pussy with soft licks when he latches onto your clit and suckles gently before pulling back to look up at you.
"I like 'em pink like this," he mumbles around your clit, "You're bein' so good takin' it for me."
He's holding your thighs obscenely wide as his tongue lathes your clit, wrenching you open as you wiggle beneath him. You are so close, on the absolute precipice and moments from tipping over the edge, when he pulls from you completely, spreading your cunt open with an his thumbs for inspection once more. The man fucking loves looking at you.
"Look at her twitchin'. I think she likes being spread wide for me, look how wet she is." He dives in for another broad lick, slurping as he goes.
"It's just dripping outa you," he breathes. You feel the warm trickle of wetness drip its well worn path from your pussy and down between the cleft of your cheeks. His finger trails it, and you take in a sharp pull of air when the pad of his finger strokes your tight asshole, spreading your slick across it and causing your legs to twitch closed a fraction once again.
slap. You feel the sting and its aftershocks buzz through you before you hear it. "Keep 'em," slap, "fuckin'," slap, "open!" He soothes your pussy with his full hand again and you moan into him, fisting the sheets at your sides.
"Won't go there today. But don't think I'll be feelin' so generous next time." Next time. He rubs and squeezes your pussy, and you rock your hips into his palm, desperate for more anything.
"You likin' this?" he murmurs, his words almost sounds tender -
- Until another slap rings against your bare sodden skin.
"Answer me."
"Y-Yes!" you gasp out with the next spank to your oversensitive cunt. "Yes, please - I - fuck - please I need to -" slap slap slap slap
Your mind goes blank as a series of slaps are delivered straight to your pussy. A groan is pulled deep from your chest and you spread your legs more for him, pushing into his palm as it rains its gentle smacks down onto you.
"You're goin' to come, ain't you?" he growls out, his smacks getting quicker.
You nod frantically, so fucking close, you shouldn't be so close from this but you are. You're just about to beg for something more, anything more, when the smacks against your pussy get even quicker, and quicker, until he's rubbing frantically at your clit, so swollen from his attention that you practically scream at the sensitivity.
Your orgasm tears through you, drawing a deep guttural sound right from your belly. Your back arches, your dripping hole so neglected as it grips around nothing.
"Fuck," he grinds out from below you, stuffing two fingers quickly into your pussy to feel you grip around them as you rock through your orgasm. You can't see him do it, white blaring across your vision, but you hear the hiss of his breath as he pulls his cock out from his pants.
You whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, stroking himself with the slickness of you. He stands and presses himself between your legs, hot and heavy.
"You want it here?" he says, grinding the heft of his cock against your spent cunt. "'Cause you're making a mess, drippin' all over my sheets without me to plug you up." You're in a daze as you nod, still floating from the intensity of your orgasm as you stare dumbstruck at his rock hard length for the first time. It's so big.
It's too big.
"W-wait, it's too bi- "
"Fuckin' look. Watch as I fuck this into you sweetheart," he growls as he feeds the tip of his cock into you anyway, the solid width of him stretching more than you have ever been before, but your wetness letting him slide right in. He fucks the tip in and out, and you watch him do it.
In previous years you'd had nothing more than clumsy fumbles with men, some drunken, but most just uncaring one night stands with promises of more. There was never more. One way or another you were being used, but this time, and for the first time, you could call it what it was. There was no illusion of care here as Joel took what he wanted and made you watch.
And you liked that. You liked being used by him. You liked letting him do anything he wanted to you.
"I want you to watch her swallow me darlin'. Keep your eyes right there," he pushes his hips forward, the pressure of him filling you immense, and he groans as your cunt gives way to him and swallows him whole. "There she goes. Such a good little pussy for me."
"Keep lookin'," he groans again as he retreats from you only to fuck his full length back inside of you in one swift movement, "You look or I send you out of here jus' like this. See how the locals treat a naked slut in broad daylight."
Your cunt pulses with the threat, and Joel notices. He cocks his brows at you, still relentlessly fucking into you. "Oh, she likes that. You like bein' a slut, huh?"
Fuck yes, you want to scream, but instead you nod meekly, still watching him fuck you, obsessed with the sight of his cock disappearing into you over and over again.
"Good fuckin' girl."
Never once does he lean down to steal a kiss, or swipe his tongue across your bare nipple. You're naked for him but he does nothing with it except pound into your flesh, using your cunt to get himself off. His eyes flit between where he's disappearing into you and your eyes, watching with a sneer as they roll back into your head with each knock to your cervix.
"Fuu-uuck." He's hammering into you now, hips smoothly pounding your pelvis, when he grabs one of your arms and flips you onto your side, pushing your knee up so high it's practically by your ear. He slams back into the hilt again, rocking you back as you moan out wantonly around his cock.
From this angle his cock drags across you in ways you've never felt. You'd seen trees being felled as a kid, a wedge being hammered into a cut far too small to fit. You felt like you were being split, just like those trees.
"Ah - uh, I, Joel, please, I -" tears are in your eyes from how good it feels, the dull throb of the impact into your cervix melting your insides.
Joel brings one of his legs up beside you on the bed, the other planted firmly on the floor, giving himself leverage to fuck so deep and hard into you that the air is knocked out of you for a moment. When you can finally take another breath, you're screaming for him, your pussy creaming around him from the endless pounding.
The sloppy wet sounds of your cunt accepting his battering over and over are eventually taken overby moans being ripped from your throat. His belt rattles about his waist with each smack of his hips into yours, you can feel the metal of his buckle, bitingly cold against your skin.
"That's it - fuck - you just fuckin' take - it. You take this cock." You can feel his balls draw up and his cock twitch inside you as he gets close to bursting. He fucks you relentlessly anyway, desperately holding back as long as he can, until he can hold no more.
He drags his cock sharply from your used cunt, throwing you back onto your back on his mattress. His large hand grips his cock and he jerks it over you.
"Oh fuck yeah, fuck yeah," he's practically chanting as he jerks himself, letting out a deep stuttery groan when he finally comes, spurting hot cum all over your soft thighs, belly, chest.
He doesn't aim, he doesn't care where he gets it, the action more akin to a dog pissing on a tree to mark its territory than anything else.
The only noise in the room when Joel's shoulders finally relax are your twin heavy breaths, punctuated by light whines that you just can't help. You're so overstimulated that when his hand comes down to your thigh, you don't realize that he's smearing his cum into you until he's rubbing it into your belly, spreading it across the peaks of your tits, up your neck and across your cheek.
He gives you a light tap on the face. "Look at me," he says, swiping a come coated finger across your lips. You're entirely fucked out, all you can do is look dumbly at him, totally cockdrunk.
"What do you say?"
"I... wha-..." you know what he means when he raises his eyebrows threateningly once again. "Th-thank you."
"That's right."
Suddenly he's yanking you up into a seated position and the blood rushes to your head. Another tug, the world spins, and you're on your feet, but you can barely trust your legs. He drags you from the room and before you know it your own clothes are in your arms, the remains of his come dribbling down your body.
"Get dressed," he stands with his arms crossed, looking at you, expectant.
You stare for a moment, totally lost in his dark eyes, before moving to get your clothes back on. You are still covered in his come, your pussy still buzzing from his spanking. At some point, he tucked his cock back into his pants. You didn't even notice, and you try to push down the disappointment of not getting to see it one last time.
Pulling your clothes back on with skin sticky from sweat and come isn't easy, but you eventually manage. When you stuff your feet into your shoes, he grabs you by the arm and drags you toward the door, unlatching it and pushing you toward the exit.
"I'll consider your debt paid," he murmurs into your hair from behind, pushing you out of his apartment a second later.
"Oh and, catch," he throws something to you but you miss, barely even turning in time at his words. It rattles as it hits the ground. Pills.
"Told you I'd give you something if you were good." Confirmation that you were good for him is all you need to feel another gush of wetness between your thighs. You feel like you could come again from his words and the rough feeling of your panties against your abused cunt.
"What do you say?" he asks again.
"Thank you."
He smirks before closing the door in your face.
You lick your lips as you walk away down the empty corridor tasting Joel Miller for the first time, pills in hand and debt paid.
He never even kissed you.
next part
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butchtheworld · 5 months
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crip tips
i'm an experienced disabled person (EDS, CFS, POTS, chronic pain). here are some of the things that help me get by as a college student (note: i use a wheelchair and a cane most days. i also am fortunate enough to have decent medical care, meds, and my aforementioned mobility aids)
shower chair. i can't stand for long enough to shower, and especially not if it's a hot shower. i got a cheap one off of amazon that has three legs and a plastic seat. that plastic seat makes it super easy to keep clean. i know there's a weird sort of embarrassment about sitting in the shower, but PLEASE, it is so much better than sitting on the floor in the shower or falling. in my dorms, there are two (2) showers with fold-down seats. i put a small towel down on the seat so i'm not bare-ass on this dorm bathroom surface, then i wash it down after.
normal wheelchair gloves are fingerless, which suck for winter. BUT, winter cycling gloves have the same cushioning on the palms and grip material and fingers. they're not super warm, but throw on a pair of thin gloves underneath (or, if you're like me, propelling keeps your hands super hot anyways).
an ice pack on the back of your neck can help with migraines and dizziness. i keep a small one in my freezer at all times. i tuck it into a hairband so it can be hands-free.
PLEASE adjust your cane/crutch/crutches to the right height. it helps so much with shoulder/elbow pain and balance. if it doesn't feel right, it probably isn't. the handle of my cane hits around the height of my wrist if my arm is just hanging down.
if you have hyper mobility, try high-rise shoes. i wear only high-rise converse and doc martens, which i can lace tightly around my ankles to keep them from rolling or sliding out of place.
(MENTIONS FOOD AND CALORIES) keep an easy, high-in-calorie food around. for me, eating on high pain days is essentially impossible. so, i need something that i can get myself to eat (like ice cream or canned soup or chips) that won't take any effort. ice cream is a great one for me, since it's sweet and cold and dense. even if it's not healthy, nothing is more unhealthy than not eating.
please, please, please find a community of disabled people. most of my close friends are able-bodied and, as much as i love them, they just can't understand it like other disabled people do. i found two great communities on my college campus, but i've also heard that support groups are a great way to meet people within the community
if you have any other tips, reblog with them. i remember the beginning days of my illness and how daunting all of this was. this is how we support our community.
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diaryofanidiot · 10 months
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The Experiments
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Chapter list: Prologue, 1, <2> ,3 ,4 ,5
Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment
Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.
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Chapter Two
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The blades of the evac chopper beat against my ears painfully as I was escorted into it. A headset was placed over my ears to muffle the sound as I looked up to see Soap faintly smiling down at me.
It wasn't connected to the other's comm sets so once they spoke during take off, I couldn't hear a thing. All I could do was wonder if I really trusted these people. I glanced to Ghost as I did, a faint sense of faith settling in my gut. Him rescuing me from that hellhole was enough for that primal connection to click in my brain.
Yes. If I could trust him, I could trust them. They all seemed close anyway. Hard won battles sealing their connection to each other.
The next few hours were agonizing as the chopper landed, and I was brought on to the compound. From ID photos to a full body scan for any tracking devices on my person; it seemed they weren't taking any risks with me.
Gaz and Soap would often give me a sympathetic glance as I was pushed around to each check-in task in a wheel chair as I was still too weak to walk fully.
"We're gonna have you looked at in the med bay, then we will need you to recount some info for us. That alright with you?" Asked Gaz. I nodded, appreciative that he made it seem like I even had a choice.
I sighed heavily, ready for it all to be over. The adrenaline had worn off just enough to make me realize how sleep deprived I really was.
Machines beeped, and faint chatter could be heard throughout the medical building of the compound. I underestimated how stressful the environment would be. My fingernails dug into the arms of the wheelchair as Gaz steered it.
Soap was beside me, Price and Ghost having left to recount the mission and write a report of some sorts, he seemed to notice my fear.
"None's gonna hurt ya, Lass." He assured me as I was wheeled over to a hospital cot. Him and Gaz lifted me onto it as I looked around wide eyed.
"No.." I coughed out, my voice raspy and once again dry. "No.. Doctors..." I strained, trying to move. They both held me in place, Gaz giving me a stern look.
"They're just going to look over your injuries. We will be right here the entire time." He tried to assure me.
I shook my head rapidly. Ghost... I wanted Ghost here. I didn't have time to wonder why my thoughts went to him, I just needed to get free. I struggled against their hold as a woman in a clean white coat pulled back the curtain around my cot.
My breathing grew heavy and the room seemed to spin. My nails dug small crescents into my palms as I tried frantically to break free. I heard voices and felt a hand on my back but the sounds felt like they were underwater.
I saw a white lab coat flash in front of my vision and I bared my fangs, my lips trembling fearfully.
Danger?
Gotta run...
Can't run.
Fight?
No... yes. Fuck
Fuckfuckfuck
I felt a sharp prick in my neck and turned my head rapidly, biting towards the hand near my face. I heard someone hiss in pain as my teeth broke flesh.
My hair was grabbed, along with my jaw, until I released my hold. My vision blurred and muscles twitched as I struggled.
It all went dark after that.
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My dreams melted with reality as I woke and tried to shift in bed. A frown appeared on my lips as I realized I couldn't move my limbs. Fuck.
My eyes flew open as I tried to sit up, the restraints clanging against the metal bars of the cot.
"Easy." My attention flew toward the source of the voice to see none other than Ghost sitting beside me.
I gave him a quizzical "what the fuck" look and his eyes focused on mine sternly through the mask.
"You had a panic attack. Flew off the handle. Hence, the restraints." He sat back in the chair, never once taking his eyes away from me. "Those fangs of yours can really do some damage. Gaz won't be able to throw a good punch with that hand for bout a week."
I swallowed thickly, realizing what I did as he spoke. A faint leftover metallic taste of blood lingered in my mouth. I looked down with guilt.
"Nobody blames you." He huffed. "Hell, not even Gaz. Traumas a bitch."
He paused before continuing. "They had to sedate and restrain you for your safety. Once you're cleared, they can be removed."
I thew my head back with a sigh. I couldn't lie. It genuinely sucked to be moved from one set of restraints to another.
"Look at me."
I turned my head.
"I'm gonna bring the doctor back in here. She's friendlier than I am, promise. Think you can manage?"
I bit my lip in contemplation, my fangs drawing a small dab of blood from my lip as I did.
"Don't worry. I'm staying here."
I took a deep breath and nodded before Ghost peered out the curtain. "She's ready." I heard him say.
There was some shuffling before the doctor walked in. Her eyes showed no fear as if she were used to similar reactions like mine.
"My name is Harriet." She began, holding a clipboard to her chest. "I'm the doctor that's been assigned to you. We did a small checkup while you were sedated, I hope that's okay."
I nodded slowly, trying to keep my breaths steady.
"The Lieutenant informed me on where you came from, so I understand your anxiety around me. You've been put on an IV for the time being to replenish your nutrients until we can be sure you can handle an actual meal."
It was then I noticed the needle in my arm. I frowned at it, but the sight didn't bother me as much as this place. Ghost seemed to be keeping an eye on me, likely to ensure any more freak outs didn't ensue.
"I need to take a look at your throat real quick, do you mind?" She approached me calmly. I flinched but eventually agreed, opening my mouth in response. I watched as she shined a light down my throat, a compressor holding down my tongue.
She scribbled something on her clipboard. "I've been informed on your... alterations. Do you have any other abilities we need to be aware of?"
I thought for a moment and nodded my head slowly, holding up a single finger. She pursed her lips and grabbed a pen and paper.
"You can write, I assume?" She made a motion toward Ghist who unlocked my right arm, leaving the rest of the restraints on.
"Easy, girl. Behave." He said. It seemed like a slight hint of a joke. I took the pen and wrote sloppily on the paper.
Echolocation.
Her eyes widened slightly as she read. "I'm assuming this relates to your altered vocal chords?"
I nodded, averting my gaze to the white flooring.
"Well." She clicked her tongue, putting the clipboard back to her chest. "The good news is that with time, your ability to speak should clear up. It's mostly from dehydration and lack of use; the former being taken care of via IV. You have several infected cuts and a slight fever, along with those infected raw spots on your neck, but those will heal up just fine as well."
I took a breath of relief.
"With enough physical therapy, you should be able to walk just fine. Now the bad news.... we can't reverse the changes made to your vocal chords. If you like, the fangs can be dulled by a dentist, but that one is entirely your choice as neither alterations threaten your livelihood."
As I frowned in thought, Ghost stopped me. "You can decide that later."
I looked back to the doctor who gave me a small sympathetic smile. "One last thing, then I'll let you get some more rest. Do you remember your name? It isn't on the file that was brought with you."
I watched as I was given the pen once more. I closed my eyes and dug through my memory, searching for any remnants of who I was over a year prior.
A woman's voice echoed through my head. No, not a woman. A mother. My mother. She called out to me in agony.
My breath quickened as the memory played like hazy snapshots. Her hand grasping at my shirt. Being dragged away. Her hold on me failing. A gun to her head.
Everything was blurry. Everything was muffled.
Except...
I took the pen and wrote a name on the paper. The same name that echoed through my mind over and over.
A scalding tear fell down my cheek as the doctor nodded.
"It's nice to meet you, (y/n)."
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A/n: sorry bout the tendons in your hand, Gaz. 🫡 had to be done.
I'm sorry this one is so short but I was fairly busy today. I'll make it up with the next one, promise ^-^
Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes @justmare @hk-4ever @thriving-n-jiving @katelouis98 @tayaisback @josieguts @btszn @lemmyyy0606 @msecho19 @cory-viv @cybercl0ne @randomhumans-blog @vinithechocolatevampire @embermdk @itsryuken @neothewitch @undercover-smutlover
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alwaysmicado · 7 months
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What you need
2.9k | 18+ NSFW | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 4
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Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, facesitting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names, Joel is the little spoon Summary: Joel is sick and your pussy's the best medicine. A/N: This one’s just cute! 🤍 After the next two parts or so, we’ll start to get into it for real. Fucking around is fun, but it doesn’t last forever, does it…
pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ series masterlist ・ AO3
You: How was the client? Joel: I stayed home, not feeling too well You: You need anything? Joel: Just you ;) You: I’ll be there in 30. Stay in bed! Joel: No no babe, it’s okay Missed Call Missed Call Missed Call Joel: You’re unbelievable
“Oh, come on,” you groan and lift the measuring cup towards Joel’s lips. “Why are you such a stubborn baby, huh? Just drink the fuck-”
You stop yourself when you see him raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his pale lips. He’s sitting in bed, his back supported by pillows, his head leaning against the wooden headboard panel.
Propping Joel up comfortably like this was a struggle in and of itself since this grown, successful man only sleeps with one, worn-out pillow he’s probably had since before you were born, so you also had to get two plumper ones from his couch to provide enough support for his poor back. What is it with him and refusing comfort? 
At least now you know what to get him for his birthday in September…
“Hmm, you love it,” he teases and puts his hand on your waist to pinch you lightly. 
“I would love it if you stopped fighting me and just took the damn NyQuil,” you counter and search his eyes. They’re heavy-lidded and glassy, revealing the exhaustion Joel’s been trying to fight all day.
You sigh and softly brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. He’s running a fever and the cool, damp washcloth you put on his forehead to alleviate at least some of his evident discomfort only did so much. 
At this point, you really just need him to listen to you for once, take the damn medicine and, most importantly, lie down and give his body the rest it so desperately needs.
You look at the collection of bottles on the nightstand next to him and shake your head. Since you didn’t know what his symptoms were before you came, you stopped at a pharmacy on your way over and bought everything : DayQuil, NyQuil, a bottle of cough syrup, peppermint tea, a bunch of pain meds, Epsom salts with eucalyptus and essential oils, fresh produce to make a smoothie - hell, even a thermometer because you weren’t sure if he has one.
The only thing missing is the patient’s cooperation. 
“I appreciate your care, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, reaching for your hand to pepper your palm with soft kisses, “but I really don’t need any of that. I’m just a bit under the weather, that’s all.” 
“You’d rather die than admit you’re sick, huh,” you state with a tilted head and raised eyebrows. 
“Now that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it,” he murmurs and nibbles on your arm. 
“Says the grown man who gagged from the tiniest sip of green smoothie,” you scoff. 
“Yeah, well, that shit was disgusting,” he chuckles, pulling you closer by your waist so you’re straddling his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
“You have a fever, Joel,” you sigh and cup his cheeks. “I’m worried, okay?” 
“About little old me?” He smiles and squeezes your hips. 
“Yeah,” you lean in to press soft kisses to his cheek. “And I need you to let me help you, so tell me what-”
“Sit on my face.” 
“Huh?” You sit back up and look into his eyes in surprise.  
“Take your slutty little pants off and sit on my face,” he repeats with a cocked eyebrow. 
“How is that-” 
“I’ll take the meds if you do,” he interrupts with a smirk, his eye crinkles giving away his genuine amusement at this genius suggestion.
You sigh deeply and look at the ceiling. How is this guy real? “And a whole smoothie,” you murmur as you get up. 
You push your shorts down together with your panties, let them fall to the floor, then climb back onto the bed to straddle Joel’s lap without the covers separating you this time. He looks at you hungrily, the fever completely forgotten as he sees and feels your naked cunt and thighs.
“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” he groans softly, his big hands on you immediately, gripping your ass and moving you up and down the length of his hardening cock. “Look at the mess you’re already making on me,” he murmurs, turned on by the wetness you’re spreading over his gray sweatpants. 
“You get off on caring for me, hm?” He taunts with a smug grin. 
“Oh, shut up,” you roll your eyes and capture his lips in a bruising kiss. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, as close as he possibly can, kissing you greedily. You writhe and wriggle on his lap, moaning into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair.
He breaks the kiss to nibble and bite at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks behind. You’re letting it slide this time, enjoying the tantalizing sensation of slight pain mixed with the soft touch of his lips and facial hair that’s causing your pussy to clench around nothing. 
You’re just going to have to wear a silk scarf or something to work.
“God, I wanna taste you so bad, baby,” Joel moans into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. You bite your lip and hum as the friction of your movements on Joel’s pants stimulates your clit perfectly.
“You gonna be good if I let you?” You purr into his ear with a roll of your hips, eliciting a soft whimper from him. 
“You come all over my face, angel, and I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, his fingers digging into your sides. 
“Alright, baby,” you coo and lift your weight off his lap. “Lie down for me.”
Joel scoots down and lays his head on the pillows, looking at you intently with big eyes. You position yourself over his face, hold on to the bed’s headboard panel and lower your hips carefully. 
“Look so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles before hooking his arms over your thighs and pulling you further down. His warm breath and facial hair tickle you as he kisses your lips softly, then drags his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your mesmerizing scent and nudging your swollen clit before repeating the movement. 
You throw your head back and moan softly as he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping at your dripping hole and pushing in ever so slightly before circling your clit. Your fingers tangle in his dark curls as the vibrations of his deep groans intensify every movement of his lips and tongue.
“Fuck, you taste divine like always,” Joel breathes as he dips his tongue into your wet heat to lap up as much of you as he can. You look down and clench around his tongue when you see his blown pupils and frenzied look. His mouth moves at a relentless pace, making you squirm and tug on his curls harder. You’re so close already. 
When your moans get louder and Joel feels you grinding your pussy on his face harder to chase your imminent high, he can’t resist biting the marks already adorning your skin. 
“Ow, fuck!” You cry out in surprise at the sudden pain shooting through you. You hadn’t even noticed the purple bruises on your inner thighs when you showered and got dressed today.
Maybe it should concern you that your body hasn’t been without bruises for a few months now. But it doesn’t, if you’re being honest with yourself. You just weren’t planning on showing someone else’s marks off to Joel this time. You really weren’t. 
“Fun night?” Joel asks with a smirk before sucking on your swollen clit hard, keeping you in place with his hands splayed over your ass.
“Can’t complain,” you bite back back, or at least try to, since your voice devolves into a soft whine at Joel’s harsh treatment of your sensitive bundle of nerves. The deliciously painful feeling is almost enough to send you over the edge. 
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” you moan as he starts lapping at your dripping hole again, his nose rubbing against your clit with every stroke. “Feels so good, baby.” 
Joel groans with each lick to your puffy folds and throbbing clit, hooking his arms over your legs again and digging his fingers into your skin. “Please, Joel,” you whine, tugging on his hair harder. 
“Use my face, angel,” he pants breathlessly, completely drunk on your pussy. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen or tasted. “Take what you need from me.” 
He's bucking his hips, trying to get as much friction from his pants as possible, precum leaking out of this cock steadily. 
“I’m– oh fuck –I’m gonna come,” you moan, sliding your drenched pussy over Joel’s tongue and nose frantically. He hums blissfully, holding on to your thighs and watching your face as you arch your back and fall apart with a strangled moan. 
You come on his tongue, your hips stuttering and your whole body trembling from the intense orgasm. Joel groans as he eagerly drinks your cum and slowly licks you clean when he feels you come down again. You yelp and your hips jolt at the overstimulation when he sucks your pulsating clit into his mouth, savoring your taste. 
You lift your hips and look down at him, your chest heaving and a satisfied smile playing on your lips when you see his jaw and facial hair dripping with a mix of his saliva and your cum. He looks gorgeous like this. 
You swing your leg over Joel’s chest and lie down beside him. He turns to face you and gently traces your thigh with his warm hand, still breathing heavily. You scoot closer, so you’re flush with his body and place your bent leg between his. 
“Kiss me, Joel,” you purr as you nudge his wet nose with yours and caress his cheek with your palm. He gives you a smile before leaning in and capturing your swollen lips with his. You part your lips and allow his tongue to slip inside, feeding you your own cum. He grabs your ass to pull you closer against him, your bodies pressed together heatedly, both breathing heavily as you feel the thud of your combined heartbeat. Joel groans into your mouth softly as he rubs his throbbing cock against your hip, his hand traveling along your waist to your belly. You thrust your hips so your pussy rubs against his thigh on the bed, more than ready to come again. 
“So perfect,” Joel murmurs against your lips as he slides his hand under your shirt and palms your breast. He tweaks your hard nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. He furrows his brow and looks into your eyes intently, his pupils even bigger than before. Every fiber of his fevered body is aching for you, to be close to you, to become one with you, to be yours.
You see something shift in his face, but can’t put your finger on what it is, so you don't say anything. 
“Can I fuck you?” He mumbles into your neck where he’s kissing and biting at you sloppily, his hand still massaging your breast and his cock screaming for release. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” You breathe, your need for Joel to be alright still trumping your primal need to get off. You're an animal, not an asshole. 
“I’m more than okay, darlin’,” he reassures you with a tired smile.
“And you’re not gonna die on me halfway through?” 
“Don’t care,” he murmurs and takes your hand to press it against his erection. You rub up and down his length slowly as he slides his hand between your legs. You groan when he circles your sensitive clit a few times before sliding two of his fingers into your warm cunt. He pumps them in and out a few times before adding a third, the heel of his palm putting delicious pressure on your clit. 
“You want me to ride you, baby?” You pant, feeling your second orgasm build already. 
“Can we-,” Joel breathes, his cock throbbing, “can we just stay like this?”
“Of course,” you nod and help him pull down his sweatpants. He pulls his fingers out of you and wets his cock with your slick before removing his pants fully. “C’mere,” you coo as you draw him close to you and drape your leg over his hip. He strokes his length a few times before nudging your entrance with his pulsating tip and sliding in in one smooth thrust. He wraps his arm around you, splaying his hand on your back under your shirt, moaning into your hair when he bottoms out.
“Oh shit, you feel too good, baby,” he groans and holds on to your ass cheek to pull you toward him in unison with his frantic thrusts. “I– fuck –I ain’t gonna last long,” he pants. “You want me to fill you up?”
“Yeah,” you nod with a needy moan, your brow furrowed. Joel’s cock is hitting your g-spot repeatedly, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower belly to tense and your climax to approach rapidly. 
“Tell me, baby,” he breathes, his cock massaging your inner walls with every snap of his hips. 
“I-I want you to come inside me, Joel,” you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, please fill me up.” 
He can feel your walls tightening around him and your whole body tensing, so he tilts your head up by gripping the nape of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he breathes and grinds his pelvis against your clit. It only takes a few more of his thrusts for the tension in your belly to snap with an intensity you’re never able to achieve on your own. Or with anyone else for that matter.
You come with his name on your lips, your walls spasming and contracting around his cock as you ride out your orgasm. Seeing and hearing and feeling you in such a state of ecstasy due to his touch pushes him over the edge, emptying himself deep inside of you with a breathless groan. He stays buried inside you as his cock pulses and your pussy swallows every last drop of his warm cum. 
You stay like that for a minute, limbs intertwined, skin hot and sweaty, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, looking at each other curiously. You slowly trace Joel’s eye crinkles with your fingertips, then gently run your fingers along his perfect nose before moving further down to gently touch the bare spot on his jaw where his facial hair never grows.
“What’re you doing,” he chuckles, drawing shapes on your ass and thigh with his fingertips. 
“Nothing,” you lie with a warm smile. “Just looking at the man who most definitely just gave me all of his germs and will most definitely come and clean my apartment when I’m lying in bed with a fever."
Joel rolls his eyes in mock offense and you giggle. “Told you to stay away when you showed up here,” he murmurs and slaps your ass playfully.     
“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, “you’ve come inside me so many times that our DNA is probably the same at this point.” You kiss his forehead. “I don’t care about a few germs if I get to ride your face and hear your cute little whimpers when you almost come in your pants like a teenager.”
Joel's cheeks flush with a mix of fever and embarrassment as he catches the hint of a grin on your face. “Stop it,” he grumbles, the corner of his lips twitching involuntarily. “You’re mean.” 
“And you’re impossible,” you chuckle, your hand reaching out gently to stroke his forehead and tousled hair in a soothing gesture. His eyelids flutter at your touch and a faint sigh escapes him, a small surrender to the tenderness you’re offering.
— “Thank you, darlin’,” Joel murmurs before setting down the glass on the nightstand and laying his head on the pillow mountain you’ve built for him. “I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.” 
“Alright, baby” you coo, walking over to your bag to retrieve your phone, then sitting on the bed beside him. You play a game for a few minutes, relaxing and monitoring Joel’s rhythmic breathing. He’s lying on his belly, his head turned away from you, his left knee pulled toward his chest. It’s the same exact pose you sleep in. 
In another life you might fall asleep like this together every night, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, completing each other. You smile softly at the thought and reach out to stroke his back. 
“All your fault,” Joel grumbles into the pillows.
“Huh?” You ask, startled and confused. You thought he was fast asleep. 
“Haven’t seen you in over a week,” he mumbles. “Bad for my system.” 
You chuckle and plant a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Won’t happen again.”
“Just stay for a while,” he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper. You linger for a few seconds, studying his profile, before lying down behind him. He instinctively turns from his belly onto his side, so you can drape your arm over him.  
“You can sleep now, baby,” you whisper as you nestle against his back, molding your body to his contours, your warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
---
Thank you for reading! 🤍
part 3 || part 5 || series masterlist
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strang3lov3 · 1 year
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Troublemaker (Brain Scramblies 2)
Joel Miller x Fem! Reader
Summary: Joel is bad at feelings and distances himself from you after your concussion, and faces his feelings on patrol with you.
Warnings: Smut smut smut of all varieties, so like oral m and f receiving, PIV. Ya know the drill!!! 18+ MDNI! Joel is bad at feelings. Kind of slow burn, asshole Joel. Very sweet sex! Age gap oops
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKAS!!!! BRAIN SCRAMBLIES 2 AT 10PM ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT!! My bf recently informed me you’re not supposed to sleep when you have a concussion so my bad guys sorry for giving you all brain damage that's on me ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON BRAIN SCRAMBLIES! Here’s part two for all who asked!! Like brain scramblies, I don't love this but there was an overwhelming demand for part two and I was concerned for y'alls sanity. Also I changed the title again oops.
Read the first story here! It can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend reading Brain Scramblies first!
Please please please comment and reblog if you enjoy!
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Joel ended up falling asleep with you. He woke up early and quietly excused himself from your bed. God, how pretty you looked sound asleep. With your puffy lips and quiet snoring. The way your hair fell across your face. He pushed your hair away from your eyes and left. 
Stupid. So fucking stupid. 
You didn’t mean any of it, any of what happened last night. Joel was a fool for indulging in your concussed words and letting himself believe any of it was real. He placed too much meaning on last night. 
He’d need to work hard to erase the way you made him feel. He needs to forget how he loved taking care of you, how he wants to be the one to make you feel better after a long day or when you’re sick. How he wants to spend all of his time making you smile. He needs to erase all of his love and adoration for you. 
In the morning, Tommy took you to the doctor. Your head was still sore and pounding slightly, but the doctor assured you that with a week’s worth of rest, you’d be back to normal. Honestly, you’d be better in a day or two but it’s best to take it easy for a while longer, just in case. 
You were in the waiting room while the doctor prepared some medicine for you. Some tea to help with the headaches and nausea, and some pain meds. Tommy was sitting right next to you. 
“Feelin’ alright, honey?” he asked you. 
“Yeah, I’m okay. Hurting a little but I’ll be fine,” you replied. Your head was still tender, and likely would be for a while. 
“Up for dinner on Friday? As long as you’re feeling okay, of course,”
“Yeah, yeah. Only if Maria is cooking, of course,” you teased him. Tommy wasn’t a great cook, unfortunately. 
Tommy chuckled. “Well, that’s a given. Joel will be there too. You remember him taking you home last night?”
You shook your head. “I thought you and Maria took me home. It was Joel?” Your memories were fuzzier than you realized. 
Tommy’s lips curled in a sly smirk. “Yeah, no. It was Joel. You don’t remember anything you said to him?” You shook your head again. “Well, you were flirtin’ pretty hardcore.”
Your cheeks burned and flushed. “No,” you groaned, burying your face in your palms. 
“Oh, yes. Called him handsome left and right. Never seen him so bashful before. He was pink as a flamingo, honey,” he said. “Course, that was only at the bar. He didn’t tell me if you said anything else about your little crush when he took you home.”
“No, no. You’re lying, Tommy,” you whined. This cannot be fucking happening. What did you do? 
Tommy shook his head. “It’s the truth, I’m afraid,”
You were embarrassed. Actually, you were way past embarrassed. Mortified. Humiliated. 
Tommy could see what you were thinking, the excuses you were making up in your head. “Don’t you think about canceling dinner, now. Maria’s making your favorite pot roast, with all those carrots and potatoes,”
Your eyes were pleading with his, his own twinkling with amusement. You opened your mouth to speak, but the doctor interrupted. 
“Alright, now. Tea is for the nausea and headaches, it can be a little bitter so I’d suggest adding some honey. These pain meds will help with the throbbing,” he said. He instructed Tommy to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re hanging in there. 
You both thanked the doctor and left the infirmary then. Tommy relented his teasing, seeing as how you were so close to combusting in embarrassment. 
The week passes slowly. It’s boring, so fucking boring. You do puzzles, read your favorite books, work on your blanket you’ve been knitting. Sip your tea. And each day, all you can think about is Joel. What you said to him, what you don’t know you said to him. 
It’s Friday. Tonight’s the night you’ve been dreading all week. As you make your way to Tommy and Maria’s home, you go over your plan in your head. Just be polite, like always. Apologize to Joel and make nice. Then go home, and the next time you’re on patrol with Joel it will all be back to normal. Right?
No. Not right. 
“Hi,” you say to Joel. Tommy’s setting the table, Maria is putting the finishing touches on her meal. 
Joel only grunts in response, never once meeting your eyes. You might as well have said hi to a brick wall or a houseplant. 
“How’s your week been?” 
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Your head, uh, feelin’ any better?” He speaks like he’s in pain, like each word stings and aches as it rolls off of his tongue. 
“Yeah. It’s better, mostly. Tommy said you walked me home, and I guess–”
Joel cut you off. “Dinner’s ready,” 
Wow. So it’s like that. 
You sit next to Joel at the table, who never once speaks to you the entire meal, save for a “Pass the potatoes, please,” or “I need the gravy,” here and there. You’d never experienced such an awkward dinner before. And Joel was never your biggest fan, but he had never been so rude and short with you before. You felt it was a little undeserved, given you had no control over the situation last week.
Luckily, Tommy and Maria fill the air with conversation to make up for Joel’s shitty and impersonal attitude. Within a few hours, dinner is over. Tommy begins clearing the table as you and Joel get dressed to leave. You bid all of them goodbye, and then leave. Dinner didn’t go the way you planned, but nothing ever does. At least it was finally over. 
“Walk her home, Joel,” Maria says sternly, watching you through the window. “Come on. It’s the least you can do after icing her out all evening.” “She’s fine. Concussion healed.”
“Don’t care, brother,” Tommy interjects. “Walk her home, or you’re cleaning the stables for the next six months. Go. Think y’all have some stuff to talk about, anyway.”
“This is ridiculous,” Joel mumbles as Tommy and Maria both hug him goodbye. But he does it anyway.
He meets you a little ways away from their home, the crunch of leaves under his footsteps startling you. “Let’s move. I’m walkin’ you home again,” he says. 
“Oh, that’s nice of you,” you reply, surprised. No doubt Tommy and Maria forced him into this. 
Joel says nothing. He’s silent the entire walk home, silent as he leaves you on your porch. 
You’re in disbelief. You were expecting to maybe laugh a bit over the situation last week, but not this. Who knew Joel hated being flirted with so much? He takes quick steps, never once looking back to make sure you make it inside your home okay. 
Fuck it.
“Joel,” you call out. “Come here.”
Joel turns around, eyeing you with a frown. “What do you want now? You’re home.” 
“Come here.” your voice is stern and demanding.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, true to dramatic Joel fashion. When he steps up onto your porch and stands in front of you, he stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes are cold. “What,” he says flatly. No trouble at the end of his sentence, like he usually calls you. It stings.
“What happened last week? When you walked me home, after my concussion.”
“Nothin’. Nothin’ happened,” 
“Are you sure? Because Tommy said I was flirting with you at the bar, and I don’t know if I said something rude or what but I…” you trail off. “I don’t know. I just want to know what happened.”
Joel sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t say anything rude,” 
“Then what? What did I say?”
“It doesn’t matter,” 
“Then tell me,” 
“I said it doesn’t matter,” 
“It matters to me,”
Joel steps away from you, sitting on one of your chairs. He won’t look at your face. “Fine,” he says gruffly. “You called me handsome.” 
“Tommy told me,” you say quietly, your voice is small. “Listen-”
“About a million times, actually. It’s all you could say for a minute there,” His tone is beginning to soften, but he’s still grumpy and bothered. “Gave me a nickname, too.” “I did?” 
“You did,” 
“What was it?” you step closer to him, taking a seat in the chair next to where he’s sitting.
“Joelie,” he says. “You called me Joelie.” 
“Joelie, huh?” you mumble, half to Joel, half to yourself. “Was that all?”
Joel is looking off into the distance, the cool air is biting at his ears and nose. “No, there was a little more,”
“Are you gonna tell me?”
“No, I don’t think so. No reason to,” he pauses for a second, remembering. “I’ve got a fuckin’ bone to pick with you, though.”
“Clearly,” you reply with a sarcastic tone. “What’d I do, other than call you handsome?”
“You fuckin’ pinched me. Again,” he turns to face you. “You have a real problem keepin’ your hands to yourself, you know that?” he scolds you angrily.
You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. “You probably deserved it! You always do, you’re such a dick,” 
Joel scoffs, it’s almost a chuckle. “Maybe. I wasn’t actin’ like a dick that night, though. Not enough to warrant you pinchin’ me,”
You’re puzzled. Why else would you pinch Joel, if not as a punishment for acting like an asshole? “Then why did I pinch you?”
Joel turns red then. Like, really blushes. His ears and cheeks are bright and rosy. He’s flamingo pink, just like Tommy said. 
“Why, Joel?”
“You said I have an ass like a uh…a peach,” he whispers. “And then you–”
It’s your turn to blush now. “No,” you interrupt. “I didn’t. Joel, tell me I didn’t pinch your ass.”
He nods, silently. 
“I am so fucking sorry, Joel,” you apologize frantically. You were a fucking menace!! “Please. That was so inappropriate.”
“It’s fine, trouble. Was kinda cute, actually. You said I have eyes like coffee beans too. Never heard that one before,”
Trouble. 
“And that’s all?”
“You said you’ve got this great, big, humongous, gigantic crush on me,” he says through a sigh, his tone is defeated. Sarcastic, even. “That was really it, though.”
He doesn’t mention all the times you asked him to fuck you. He’s not a sadist, you’re embarrassed enough already. In fact, you’re so embarrassed and in your own head that you don’t even pick up on the sadness in his voice. 
You open your mouth to apologize, to explain. Joel speaks first. 
“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean any of it,”
And then he sits up, making his way to step down off of your porch. He turns to you one more time before leaving, you can’t place his expression. He looks almost sullen, almost heartbroken. 
“Goodnight, trouble.” 
He leaves. Once again, you weaseled your way too close to his heart.
And that’s the last you really speak to Joel.
You’re not on patrol with Joel very often, but he’s even quieter when you are paired up. Not in the rude kind of way like at dinner, but in a sheepish sort of way. Like he’s embarrassed, or sad, or feels nervous to speak to you. The confident, cocky Joel is long gone. He rejects all of your attempts at conversation, and it leaves you heartbroken and baffled. 
If only he knew how you felt about him. If only he’d let you speak. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It’s a chilly and rainy fall day, you and Joel are holed up in an old home on patrol together. It’s been maybe a month, a month and a half since that night on your porch.
He’s not really speaking to you, except to give you instructions here and there. You’re getting sick of his attitude. So standoffish and cold.
You wonder what went wrong that night. He was never all that friendly with you, but he was never like this. He looked right past you, like you were a phantom. Not really there.
You’re knitting your blanket, sitting on a window seat. The rain is pitter pattering against the glass. Joel is stoking the flames in the fireplace. The only sounds are the clicks of your knitting needles and the crackle of the fire. There’s a tupperware of snickerdoodles you brought for him, sitting untouched. It was your olive branch. He didn’t even thank you for them.
“What do you think of my blanket?” You hold the blanket up for him, various shades of green yarn arranged in a rippling pattern. 
Joel takes a quick glance, barely even looking, then grumbles something. 
“Joel? I didn’t hear you,”
“I said it’s fine,” he snaps at you.
You sigh, knitting your blanket furiously. What a fucking dick. “You know what? You don’t have to be such a fucking asshole all the time, you know that?”
“Fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“I said that you don’t have to be an asshole all the time,” you spit.
“I’m not–”
“You are. And I don’t even know why!” you laugh wryly. “All you do is fucking ignore me. And I don’t get it, Joel. I don’t know why I even try with you.”
Joel tries to speak, but you don’t let him. 
“I get it, okay? I made you uncomfortable when I called you handsome and pinched your ass and everything that night. I’m sorry,”
Joel is still stoking the fire, giving you no attention.
“I’m serious. I had a fucking brain injury, I had no control over my actions or my words. And I’m sorry,”
Joel’s not listening to your words. He’s so in his own head, he’s not absorbing any of it. All he hears you say is “I didn’t mean anything I said, I don’t feel anything towards you,” Rub it in some more, why don’t you? I’m not in love with you and I don’t think you have nice eyes like I said.
“I do have a little crush on you, okay? You do have nice eyes and a nice nose, and you’re the most handsome man I’ve met in my life. But it doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” you snapped. “I know it made you uncomfortable because I’m too young for you or whatever, so I want you to know I am sorry. Genuinely. Can you please drop the dickhead act now?”
Joel freezes, thrown off.
“Joel,” you demand. 
“Say that again,” he says. He’s looking at you finally.
“I’m sorry,” 
“No, not that,” he waves his hand. “About my nose.”
“I like your nose,”
Joel never liked his nose. But you do. The strong shape, the freckles and scars. It fits him perfectly. “You mean that?”
“Of course. Why else would I say it?” you say bitterly. God, he is so far up his own ass you wonder if he even knows what the sun looks like.
“Why?” he asks you, a smile is threatening to curl his lips upward. 
“The shape, I don’t know. Your freckles,” you say through a sigh. “That’s what you’re getting from this? Can you please just let me apologize for harassing you?”
“No,” he responds. “Tell me more. About my eyes, again.” Joel stands up now, looking at you from a few feet away.
You shake your head. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough for him? “Why? Thought I told you they look like coffee beans,”
“Humor me,” he says, his voice low, stepping toward you now. Your heartbeat picks up its pace as he considers his next move. He sits next to you at the window seat. He’s so in love, melting into a puddle before you. God, the way you’ve ruined him.  
“You have nice eyes. Dark and deep. I like the way they shine amber in the sun,” you whisper. You can’t help the growing smile on your face, the same smile when you’re alone and thinking of Joel’s handsome face. “Happy now, asshole?”
There’s a silent moment between you both after you speak, Joel’s looking at you in a way he never has before. The butterflies in your tummy flutter a little faster now, his eyes darting back and forth between your own and your lips. 
“Joel,” you sigh, “Quit looking at me like that.” Your words are more desperate than you intend them to be. You wanted to sound more stern, like him. 
He doesn’t say anything as he carefully places his hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth against your skin. Your eyes flutter shut. 
He takes the opportunity to pull you close, his lips just millimeters away from yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I wasn’t bein’ fair to ya. You said all those things to me when you weren’t in your right mind,” he trails off, bowing his head. “I’m no good at this.”
“Try me,” you whisper back, your eyes still closed. 
“I don’t know, trouble,”
You pull back, looking into his eyes. They’re big and full of adoration and insecurity, a brutal combination. “Thought it wasn’t real?”
Joel can only nod. The man who always has something to say, suddenly choking on his words. His hand is still on your cheek, holding you steady. 
You want to kiss him, so badly. You want to kiss him with every fiber in your being. But you fight it. He’s going to be the one to kiss you, it’s going to be how you always pictured it. This, you’re certain of. 
Joel’s eyes are frantic and unsure. 
It feels like minutes. 
Hours. 
Days. 
An eternity before he finally does it. And then finally, he kisses you, slowly and gently. It takes you by surprise, sweeps you off your feet. His lips are soft and slightly chapped, he tastes so distinctly Joel. You sigh and moan against his lips as his tongue mingles with your own, you curse yourself for the desperation you exhibit. As if he cares. 
You kiss like that for a while, softly. His gentle and loving kisses are a stark contrast to his gruff and domineering personality on patrol. He’s dissolving under your lips, feeling love he’s not felt in a very long time. Everything he can’t say with his voice he says with his kisses. 
You break the kiss, trailing your lips down his jaw, the scratchy hairs of his beard feel amazing on your skin. You kiss down his neck, something you’ve fantasized about thousands of times. 
“Wait,” he rasps out. 
You pull away, noticing the tent in his jeans. “Want me to stop?”
“Yes,” he breathes. Your eyebrows raise and your head tilts slightly. “No. Not like that. I just, I want to do this right. Treat you right.”
“Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” you speak into his neck. “Need you to fuck me.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle as you continue kissing his skin, trailing back up his thick neck and nibbling at his ear. He’s panting and moaning beneath you, you never expected he’d fall apart like this. “You know,” he starts, “You told me you wanted me to fuck you when you had your concussion.” Your face grows red and you stop kissing him for a second. “Did not,”
“Did too,”
You ignore him and pretend like he didn’t just tell you that. You kiss his skin, it’s hot and slightly salty. You feel his pulse under your lips and then, you pull away. 
His brows furrow as you smile. He’s so fucking cute like this, way cuter than any fifty-something man should be. “Your turn. Tell me what you think of me, then we can continue,” 
Joel’s confidence is back and fully fledged now, it’s a welcome return. “I think you’re nothin’ but trouble. Honestly and truly,” 
“Yeah?”
“S’right. Makin’ me fat with your damn cookies. Makin’ me crazy with all your pinches. And you’ve got me fallin’ in love now. You’re a goddamn troublemaker, and I’ve known it since the day I met you,” 
It’s everything you ever wanted to hear Joel say. He’s falling for you.
He continues, “And when we get back, I get a redo. Doin’ this the right way with you, baby. Gonna make you dinner and all that. Like a gentleman,”
“You better,” you mumble, kissing him again. Your hands find their way to his jeans, fumbling with his belt. His cock grows harder beneath you, he swats your hands away and helps you free it, his member springing up between you both. 
You kneel in front of him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. You lick a long stripe from the bottom all the way to the top of his dick, swirling your tongue around the blushed tip. “Troublemaker,” he sighs. “Don’t tease me now, sweetheart. Please, baby.” His eyes are screwed shut, face contorted in pleasure.
You love the way he calls you baby. And troublemaker. And sweetheart. You’ll be his baby and his sweetheart and his troublemaker for the rest of your life. 
You take him into your mouth, tongue paining his cock with swirls of saliva. His cock parts your lips, you love the smoothness of his skin. He tastes like skin and slightly salty, you hum against him as he bucks into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,”
You bob your head up and down, making a sloppy mess of saliva all over his lap. He pulls you off, suddenly. 
“My turn,” is all he grumbles when he picks you up and drags you to the couch in front of the fireplace. He makes short work of discarding your clothes, unbuttoning your jeans and your jacket and shirt. You’re naked in front of him, suddenly feeling vulnerable. You cover your breasts and bring your knees to your chest.
He notices and promptly begins removing his own clothing. “I know, I know,” he soothes you. “Evening out the playing field and all. Don’t hide from me now, I’m gonna make it right. You’re fucking beautiful, baby.” 
He’s naked now, kneeling in front of you and spreading your thighs apart. Your pussy is wet and glistening for him, you feel his hot breath on your center. He looks at you with wide eyes, his silent way of asking permission. You answer him clearly by carding your fingertips through his scalp, tugging on his head to where you need him most. You thrust your hips towards him, begging him with your body. 
“Eager, are we?” he mumbles. “Been dreamin’ of eatin this pussy, baby.” 
“Please,” you beg him. 
“Since you asked so nicely, trouble,” 
He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t spend any time kissing and biting your thighs. He dives right in, his tongue exploring your most intimate parts. It trails up your lips, through your folds. His tongue dips in your wet hole, tasting your slick. You jolt and gasp his name at the feeling. Your thighs clamp around his head, his scratchy beard is abrasive against your flesh. You welcome the feeling. 
He parts your thighs again then, a little rougher than the first time. His tongue slides through your wetness once more, then finds home at your clit, swollen and needy. He flicks upward, alternating between long and languid licks and short and quick kitten licks. One of his hands meet your center, his middle two fingers enter your pussy and punch upward until he finds the spot that makes you tick. He hasn’t touched a woman in a long time, but still remembers all the best ways to make her see stars. 
“Fuck, like that,” you gasp out. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
Joel says nothing as he eats your pussy, sucking and licking at your center. It’s not long before you’re coming undone on his tongue, your slickness making a mess of his face. Your moans are breathy and quick, he savors each one. His eyes are wide and dark with lust.
Barely recovered from your high, you grasp and paw at his shoulders, encouraging him to come up and meet you for another kiss. You taste yourself on his lips.
“Need you now, Joelie,” you breathe, breaking the kiss. 
His nickname still sounds just as sweet as the first time you whispered it, all those nights ago. 
“‘Course, trouble. I’ve got you.” he says against your skin, his tongue darting out to play with your nipples. He’s dragging the tip of his cock through your folds. “How do you want me?”
“Just like this, please. Just fuck me,”
Your wish is his command. He slides the tip into you slowly at first, making sure it’s not too much. It’s not, of course
He pushes into you all the way, you sigh in pleasure at the fullness. He fits inside you perfectly, like he was made for you. His tip presses at that sweet spot inside you with each thrust, almost effortlessly. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moans. 
“Yeah, Joelie. Just like that, baby. Don’t stop,” 
He fucks you like that, not too hard and not too soft. A deliciously and devastatingly pleasant pace, with such care and love. 
And then the lightbulb goes off in your head. His butt!! 
How you wish you remembered pinching his ass that night. 
“Joel?” your voice is clear, not moaning or breathy. 
He stills inside you, taking heaving breaths on top of you, like it’s taking everything he’s got not to keep going. He looks at you with concern, afraid that he might have hurt you. “Everything okay? What do you need?” 
“Can I squeeze your butt?” 
Joel says nothing, just looks at you with a puzzled expression. He furrows his brows and squints at you before rolling his eyes.
Hey, at least you’re asking permission this time. 
“Please?”
“Yeah, dummy. It’s all yours, now. Don’t wear it out,” he grumbles, but you hear the playfulness in his tone. 
You giggle, reaching down to grasp a handful of his ass. It’s round, plump and fleshy. You dig your nails in slightly, pinching him a little. He winces slightly, shaking his head at your mischievous expression. Your eyes are bright and silly with your bottom lip pinned under your teeth in a grin.
“Hey now, trouble” he scolds you with a smile. “Behave.”
He kisses you, continuing his motions. His thrusts are so fluid and confident, you’re getting closer now, so is he. 
“Fuck, baby,” he pants. “Can’t hold off much longer. What do you need?”
You pull one of his hands from above your head and place it at your center. “Circles, please,” 
He adjusts his grip on the arm of the couch and moves his fingers to your clit, slick with your wetness and his spit from before. “You got it,”
His thrusts become sloppier, he’s letting out strangled gasps and groans. You’re moaning, crying his name as your orgasm begins to bloom inside of you. It’s intense and hot, it feels like sparks through your blood. 
“Joel, Joel,” is all you can say. He fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own. “Fuck, Joelie.”
“I know, I know. I’m right there. Hang on for me baby, doin’ so good,” 
With a few more shuttering thrusts he’s spilling inside of you, painting your insides with his hot come. You feel every pulse and twitch of his cock, and he slumps on top of you. His skin is hot and sweaty, you don’t mind. You’ve been dreaming of his body pinning your own down for ages. 
You stay like that, just catching your breath together. He kisses your neck as your fingertips trail up and down his back. “I love you so much, Joel,” you whisper. “I really do.”
“Love you too, sweet girl,” he says softly. You love the way his voice sounds here, soft and gentle. All for you and no one else. 
He pulls out of you then, you whine at the loss. He lunges off the couch to reach for the tupperware container of snickerdoodles you baked for him.  
He pulls off the lid, grabbing a handful of cookies and shoving one in his mouth. Apparently Joel was still a typical man, snacking after sex. 
You giggle, grab a cookie of your own and kiss his cheek. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to watch the flames in the fireplace dance. 
“God, you’re evil,” he says, his voice muffled by the cookies in his mouth. “Force feedin’ me cookies and makin’ me fat.”
“Busted. You got me,” you say, smiling. “Gotta keep your ass nice and squeezable, hm? It was my devious plan all along. You figured it out, Sherlock.”
“Shut up. Fuckin’ troublemaker,”
tags:
@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @@spideysimpossiblegirl
(if you don't see your @, i got rid of the ones tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Leave me a comment if you'd like to be on the taglist!)
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lastoneout · 3 months
Text
Hey @ my fellow bitches and besties who deal with a lot constipation/gas/bloating because of IBS or other digestive issues!!
Did you know there's a way to deal with it at home on your own without medication?? Because my doctor sure didn't fucking tell me about this!! But I just tried it because my gas always makes me SO fucking nauseous that I can barely function and it takes like an hour for my nausea and IBS meds to kick in, but I always feel the urge to rub my stomach when I'm bloated, so my Wikipedia boyfriend ass googled it and YEP MASSAGING IS BACKED UP BY SCIENCE.
The article does say to not do this if you have recently had abdominal surgery, but here's the method:
"To perform abdominal massage on yourself.
Lie flat on your back with your belly exposed.
Overlap your hands on your lower belly and hold them here as you focus on your breath.
Warm your hands by rubbing them together for about 30 seconds.
Apply any oils that you’re using.
Use the palm of your hand to massage your entire stomach in a clockwise direction several times.
Then massage the centerline of your abdomen, starting below your sternum and ending at your pubic bone.
Do three more lines an inch apart down the left side of the abdomen.
Do the same on the right side of the abdomen.
Then press your fingers into your navel firmly.
Continue massaging with gentle pressure and circle outward from your navel in a clockwise direction.
You can spend extra time on specific areas or trigger points that feel like they need some extra attention.
Do this for up to 20 minutes.
If you don’t feel comfortable massaging yourself, you can also have your abdomen massaged by a massage therapist. Call before you make your appointment to see if the therapist performs abdominal massage. Not all masseuses provide this service."
I also found a slightly different one from the University of Michigan!
"Massaging your stomach can help to move stool along the inside of your colon. It may help relieve symptoms of tightness, pressure, cramping, and bloating.
Start on the right side of your stomach down by the bone of your pelvis.
Rub in a circular motion lightly up to the right side till you reach your rib bones.
Move straight across to the left side.
Work your way down to the left to the hip bone and back up to the belly button for 2-3 minutes.
Rub with your fingertips in a circular motion. You may press a little deeper with your fingers.
Spend about 1 minute moving from the right hip bone to the right ribs then 1 minute across the middle (gently) and then 1 minute down to the left bone by your pelvis to the belly button.
Repeat rub, always in a clockwise motion, for 10 minutes."*
I was literally so nauseous from being bloated that I couldn't even swallow food without feeling like I was going to puke, but I did the second one just sitting up at my desk, clockwise like they both said(I'm assuming bcs that's the direction things travel through your gut) and within like 2 minutes I felt better. I cannot BELIEVE no one has ever recommended this. Fucking life-changing. I used to just sit there and drink sprite and hope it was over soon and now I don't have to do that!! And if people already know about this that's good but like, again, no one EVER told me about this so if this can help even ONE person who struggles like I do I'll consider it a win!
Also, for clarification, I'm not advocating ditching your meds obvs, I just know it takes a while for pills to kick in and I don't think people should have to be miserable while they wait when there's something easy you can do to get some quick relief.
(*I added more bullet points to the second method because the wall of text was a little hard to read.)
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sanguineterrain · 9 months
Note
Hi! I love your writing so much and I'm really excited about you doing requests :) Would you consider writing a drabble (inspired by Window Pains 😉) in which Jason and Reader are in a relationship filled with trust and safety (and blood lol) but Reader becomes overwhelmed by the responsibility and worry over patching Jason up and pretty much keeping him from dying all the time? Reader breaks things off and it hurts Jason more than he ever anticipated (I'm a sucker for angst 😌).
sucker for angst eh? if you insist 😎
jason todd x gn!reader. tw jason almost dies, reader is guilty and scared and doesn't want to lose him etc etc. breakup. marinate in the unresolved angst! hehe
prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary
Now with a pt 2!
****
You're shaking by the time you get back to Jason's apartment.
His heart had stopped. He'd been alone in a warehouse, comms fried, clinically dead for three minutes.
He'd died.
"He'll be okay," Dick had said, but you'd seen the way he'd cradled his baby brother's head in his lap.
He very easily could've not been okay.
"Take it easy," you say as Jason hobbles through the threshold.
You trail behind him with his duffel over your shoulder and the bag of medication Alfred had prepared in your hand. Jason slumps onto the couch. He hisses when the movement jostles his bandaged ribs.
"Why aren't you in bed?" you ask, setting his duffel down.
"'Cause I'll keep you up. Pain meds always give me nightmares. 'S why I told Bruce not to give 'em to me. But does the old man listen? No, of fucking course not."
"Jason, I don't care if you wake me up with your nightmares. Your body needs to heal. It can't do that if you're on a lumpy couch."
"Baby, it's not a big deal," he says, not even looking at you. "I'll be fine in a couple of days anyway. Babs said there's some trafficking ring in Crime Alley. If I time it right, I can get—"
You throw the bag of pills onto the table. Jason doesn't flinch but he does look at you, one brow raised.
"Wh—"
"You were clinically dead for three minutes!" you shout. "What don't you understand about that?"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, face pinching. "I was fine. I'm alive. I'm here. Close calls happen all the time."
"You died! Your heart stopped!"
"Not the first time," he says evenly.
As soon as he says it, you can tell he regrets it. You crumple all the same, bracing yourself against the couch.
"I can't sit around waiting for you to die, Jason," you say quietly. "That'll break me for good."
"Baby, you were there. You're always there in time, and Dick was—"
"Dick could've been a minute late, and then I would've had to hold my dead boyfriend until the ambulance came," you say, closing your eyes.
You can't get the image of Jason, pale and lifeless in Dick's arms, out of your head.
"I wouldn't have... sweetheart, I would've been okay. I'm always okay—"
You cover your face as you start to cry. Jason makes a soft noise.
"Baby, don't cry, please. I wasn't—I'm sorry I scared you, honey."
"I can't do this, Jay, I can't lose you," you cry, palms wet with tears.
"You won't! I'll be more careful, I promise—"
"I can't keep you alive, Jason. I can't—can't do it anymore."
You pick up your bag and your phone, walking towards the door.
"Baby," Jason starts, fear bleeding into his voice. "Sweetheart, stop. Stop it. Where are you going?"
"I'm going home," you say, wiping your cheek. "I'm done, Jay. I can't do this."
"No, no, baby, please. Please, baby, it's late, don't go. I don't want you to go. This is home," Jason says desperately, trying to stand up from the couch.
"Jay, sit down before you pull your stitches," you say.
He ignores you. You open the door and wince when he grunts in pain. He's too slow to stop you tonight, and that's all the reminder you need to leave.
"I'm sorry," you say. "I love you, Jason. But I can't watch you kill yourself."
"Please—"
The door shuts behind you. You start walking before you can change your mind.
You'll never be too late to save Jason Todd.
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beomiracles · 17 days
Note
heyy, can u do a med student reader x idol txt pair becuz i need to feed my delusions lol, also i love ur work sm :)
「 C'MON NURSE 」
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DREAM RECALL “I…I don’t know if…if it’s something I should..” — “oh come one”, he leans forward as the smirk on his lips only grows, “don’t tell me you can’t have a little fun, nurse?” 
wc -> 1.6k
pairings idol!yeonjun x medstudent!gn!reader warnings none !
#serene adds ✎... ah this has taken me forever to get around to and I sincerely apologise >.< I had to research a bit for this one, so if I've gotten any facts wrong feel free to point them out ! part 2 with smut when? ahah joking (probably)
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Wiping your sweaty palms on your white robe, you try your best to steady your breathing. The hospital was bustling with life, patients crowding the hallways and the phones at the front desks chimed nonstop. In other words it was a busy day, an extremely busy one — much so that you had received a most unique task. 
Five weeks into your internship at the hospital you had been assigned your first patient. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement. Still, you knew that this was how your work days were going to look like, once you finished med school. And while nervosity built in your stomach with each step, you also felt giddy with excitement. 
The contrasting feelings combined made for an almost electrifying buzz to course through your body. Once you reach the small room you had been assigned, realization sets in and you have to swallow a small gulp. With a trembling hand on the door, you take one final deep breath before swinging it open. 
Upon stepping inside you’re met with a young man, possibly in his mid twenties, sitting on the stretcher as his legs sway mindlessly in front of him. His head snaps in your direction and as your gaze meets his you���re taken aback by how handsome he was. Were all your future patients going to be this good looking? 
A small awkward smile presents itself on your lips and you give a rather stale introduction. The man grins as he stretches his hand out, “Choi Yeonjun”, he says as you take his hand. His grip was firm and you almost lost track of yourself as you allowed your eyes to linger on his own. 
“Didn’t know they had nurses this young”, he comments as he eyes you with a mischievous glint. Your face suddenly flushes with color and you awkwardly clear your throat, desperately hoping he couldn’t tell. “I’m a med student, I just happen to be doing my internship here..” you explain as you flatten out your white robe nervously. “Though I am working to become a fully trained nurse and.. and I do have the necessary skills to help you today”, you quickly add, cursing yourself for stammering. 
Yeonjun smirks, “I don’t doubt it, nurse.” Perhaps it was your nerves speaking, or the fact that the man before you was undoubtedly attractive — but you could have sworn that his voice held an almost flirtatious tone. Shaking your head slightly, you will such thoughts away as you turn your attention to your work. 
“May I ask what brought you here today?” Bringing out a small moveable table of utensils to busy yourself as Yeonjun begins explaining. “Well my left shoulder has been hurting immensely recently, I think I might’ve accidentally tore it on stage and–” 
“On stage?” 
The questions slips from your lips and you almost slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from interfering further. Yeonjun doesn’t seem to mind as he smirks, “I’m a dancer”, he says as he watches your expression morph from surprise to something more of an embarrassed one. A dancer? Your mind immediately began racing with thoughts that probably weren’t appropriate in your current situation. 
Upon noting your flustered expression Yeonjun chuckles, “not that kind of dancer I assure you.” Nodding gingerly you mumble out a quiet “no of course not..” How silly of you to jump to such conclusions; and about a patient no less. You could only hope that he didn’t make a complaint to your boss. 
“I’m a singer too”, he then adds in a seemingly unbothered voice and your eyes snap back to him in evident curiosity. He frowns, “have you not heard of our group?” he asks to which you shake your head, surely you would remember such a handsome man. Yeonjun purses his lips as he gives a small shrug, “tomorrow by together, sound familiar?” 
Once again you shake your head, rather embarrassed over your lack of general knowledge. Your patient doesn’t sound offended, “what a shame, nurse”, he grins. You thought he had a nice voice, so it would make sense for him to be a singer. But a singer and a dancer? Well that was impressive. 
“Do you mind telling me for how long and during which occasions you have been experiencing these pains?” you ask as you sanitize your hands once more. “Eh, about a week, maybe a little more”, Yeonjun ponders, “it hurts almost whenever I use my left arm, quite a bitch to train with.” 
Nodding along with his words your mind rummages through possible solutions. “I’ll need to examine both your shoulder and the mobility of your arm in order to determine how severe your tear is”, you explain and Yeonjun nods. “Would you need me to take off my shirt, nurse?” he asks as a smirk tugs at his lips. 
“Ah, that won’t be necessary”, you assure him as you feel your cheeks heat up. “I’ll only need your left arm to be free.” — “Alright” he shrugs as he wriggles his left arm free from his shirt, which inevitably rides up his stomach, exposing his perfectly toned torso. You have to pry your eyes from wandering and instead focus on his injured shoulder. 
“Do you mind me touching you?” Despite only executing your work, you thought consent played an important part in getting treatment. “Please do”, Yeonjun smirks and from the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you saw him throw you a small wink. Gulping, you give yourself three mental slaps — it was just work. If you couldn’t stay professional when a slightly attractive patient entered the room then how were you to do this for a living. 
Get it together, a small voice in your head hisses and you couldn’t agree with it more. You try your best to focus on his shoulder, fingers moving across his soft skin to prod and squeeze at the flesh. Upon pushing against a particular spot, Yeonjun flinches away from your touch and you give him a knowing glance, “here?”, he nods. 
“You’ve most likely tore a tendon”, you state as your fingers continue to prod around the area. Yeonjun frowns, “a what?” You give him a dismissal wave of your hand as you motion for him to lift his arm, earning a painful grimace from him. “If you’re lucky it’s only partially torn, meaning it has yet to detach from your bone.” Yeonjun’s lips part in surprise, “that can happen?” You give him a small nod, “indeed it can.” 
You continue to move his arm in several directions, all leading to groans of pain from your patient. “But judging from the way you can move it, I’d say you’re quite lucky.” Yeonjun gives you a look of disbelief and you have to resist the urge to giggle. “How’s your strength? Can you lift things as normal, disregarding the pain of course?” He looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding, “yeah I can do everythin’, just hurts like a motherfucker”, he grimaces. 
“Well it’s a good thing you came in as early as you did”, you say as you let go of his shoulder and motion for him to pull his shirt back on. “If you had continued to put pressure on your torn tendon it might’ve just ripped entirely.” Yeonjun sighs as he gives his shirt a final tug , “so what’s your prognosis, nurse?” 
“Well, firstly you’ll need to rest”, you note as you get up to open one of the cabinets, rummaging through the variety of medications, “and if you desire to keep training then all activities regarding any use of your shoulder must be excluded.” Upon returning with a small package Yeonjun lets out a huff, “then how do I dance?” he questions to which you shake your head, “you don’t.” 
“You sure there’s no way around this, nurse?” he pouts and you shake your head once more. Running his good hand through his dark hair, Yeonjun looks at you, “that’s a shame, I was hopin’ to ask you to attend our concert next week”, he admits and you blink in surprise. He was going to ask you what? 
“I, I uhm, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities once you’re recovered..” your brain is foggy as you scramble for words to form at least one coherent sentence. Yeonjun’s lips curl into a smirk as he eyes your flushed expression, “then, can I convince you to see me for coffee instead?” 
His bold questions keep catching you off guard and you fiddle with the medication in your hands. “I…I don’t know if…if it’s something I should..” — “oh come one”, he leans forward as the smirk on his lips only grows, “don’t tell me you can’t have a little fun, nurse?” 
Suddenly you begin to feel as if the room might’ve emptied its supply of air; your face growing increasingly hot by the second as you avoid his lustful gaze. “I uh…I’ll prescribe you some ibuprofen”, you quickly turn to the small desk in an attempt to shield your very telling face, “it helps with inflammation, take them together with your meals for the next three weeks, it’ll reduce any swelling as well as pain”, you ramble as your trembling fingers sign the necessary papers. 
Taking a deep breath, you turn back to Yeonjun who was watching you with an amused expression. You hand him the small package and watch his smirk double in size as his eyes scan the small paper. “You got it, nurse.” 
It isn’t until the doors to your small room closes behind him that you breathe out the sigh you had been holding in for the past thirty minutes. But as your breathing steadies, your heart continues to race. Was it such a good idea to have written your phone number on the prescription paper? 
As your phone buzzes in your back pocket you realize that it most definitely was.
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iverottedmybrain · 26 days
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wenclair headcanons:
when Wednesday first started falling for enid, she had a vision of a date they were on. Usually, her visions would be bad things, but Wednesday finds good things bad
everyday before they leave the dorm, Enid kisses Wednesday's forehead while Wednesday kisses Enid's palm/knuckles
their first 2 dances as a married couple were Clair de lune picked by Wednesday and little things picked by enid
Yoko found out about them when Enid forgot to wipe Wednesday's lipstick off of her face before coming over for a girl's night
they've both gotten in trouble during class for zoning out and staring at one another
Wednesday stopped worrying about becoming her mother after she caught herself singing lyrics of a Spanish love song to enid while dancing something her father did to her mother all of the time
Wednesday has sensory issues about washing her hair when Enid realized this she started helping Wednesday wash her hair
Wednesday absolutely loves watching enid do her makeup she'll just stare in awe the entire time this is when Enid feels the most beautiful
Enid has a bad habit of forgetting to take her meds Wednesday eventually picks up on this and helps her take them every morning
Enid loves spinning Wednesday when they hug like in Disney movies because she is a firm believer in treating her like a princess
no matter how much Wednesday doesn't want to admit it Enid's cheesy dad jokes make her laugh
Enid's hands are basically glued to Wednesday's hip when they aren't holding hands
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a66-1 · 21 days
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starving
part 1 | part 2 [you're here!]
Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.
finally got the idea for part 2. excited?
me too
TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen.
semi proofread bc who cares
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The next morning was exhausting as the last.
You got up early to go running. If you ever have the chance, you run until the sun comes up. You need to stay fit if you want a boyfriend. It was easier when you were on your meds. Almost like you had the will to live those mornings.
You were back at the house around 8 am. You weren't scheduled for work today so... You headed back to bed and really, just slept the day away
You woke up around 5 pm. 5, really? God, you are just some depressed child.
You got out of bed for the second time, and changed into a dress. It was hard seeing yourself in a dress after 2 years. You stopped going out because alcoholism and anti-depressants aren't really two peas in a pod, are they?
Well this is why you quit. You dropped your therapist and your meds because you were better, and your mom stopped helping with the payments, and now you can go back to partying.
Minus the heavy drinking.
Hopefully.
You tear your eyes off yourself. If you stare too long, you'll end up convincing yourself to stay in bed longer. You configure the rest of your outfit, and grab a small black purse. Throwing your phone in it, you leave the house quicky. If you don't, you might properly convince yourself you're just as ugly as you thought..
The drive to the bar was silent, save from the honking cars around you. Fuck, what if this is the wrong idea? I mean the looks everyone will give you, you look so bad and so ugly and god this was such a bad--
You hear a car honk behind you. The light turned green. You lower your head, sighing, and taking a left.
Once at the bar, you slip into one of the seats nearer the back, feeling uncomfortable in the seat. Adjusting your dress down, you cringe while looking around the bar. There's so many pretty women here, and comparatively you are way under them.
You order a drink, sipping on the alcohol for the first time in months. Fuck, your therapist would be losing it if she knew you not only stopped meds but started drinking again...
You rested your head in your palm, watching others interact. Pretty women just have a way with men, a way you've never had. The buzz of the alcohol was enough to make you not question why nobody has interacted with you, other than the bartender. People probably think your such a loser, I mean, who would just sit here and drink--
"Hey. You're, uh.. That girl from yesterday right?" A gruff voice appears behind you. You flinch forward, whipping your head around.
Oh. This guy.
You slowly put your drink down, your palm over the top of it.
"And who are you?" You ask, eyeing the man. He didn't have his mask on. He was... Really cute.
"A customer." He sat next to me, his eyes trained on mine. I felt sort of flushed under his gaze.
Fuckin' small world.
You spent some of the night talking with him. Still don't know his name, or why you ran into him here, but you don't care nonetheless.
You were looking for sex this night but... Is a connection so bad?
Like you could make a connection with someone who is out of your league.
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thank god i finished this. 3 drafts later, and im sorry its kinda short. trust part 3 is gonna have the good stuff, this is kinda a filler so it can get to the good stuff.
ily babes...
-a661
taglist:
@i-am-hungry-24-7 @arminarlertssword @haven-1307
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atinycafe · 7 months
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part 1 | part 2
You're running as fast as you can, feeling your heart pound in your chest. But no matter how hard you try, it's like your lungs just can't grab enough air. You're on the verge of collapsing, but you fight against it because you know that if you do, the creature chasing you will catch up. You try to move quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention from the zombies, the one trailing behind you is more than enough to handle.
You swiftly dart into an alley, the chill hitting you as you slide under a beat-up Ford, hoping the zombie isn't clever enough to figure out how to wriggle in and grab you. With your palms pressed against your mouth, you stifle your sobs, stealing glances as the zombie's body lunges violently at the car, its desperate cries and growls piercing the air as it searches for you.
You remain there, tears streaming down the sides of your temples, praying that it doesn't locate you. It feels like hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes, before the creature loses interest and sets off to hunt down another victim elsewhere.
You shut your eyes, allowing the tears to trickle down your cheeks, relishing this brief respite. You know better than to venture out of your hiding spot now; it would be a foolish move. The zombie might still be lurking nearby, and you're utterly spent, devoid of the energy to flee once more. Your legs feel distant, except for the persistent throbbing in your thighs. Glancing to the side, you catch sight of a distant silhouette at the mouth of the alley. Your lip quivers as you pray it's not another monster. You focus on steadying your breath, doing your utmost not to draw any attention, until the walkie-talkie strapped to your waist crackles to life, Wooyoung's voice inquiring about your whereabouts and whether you were able to secure the meds you sought.
Frantically, you fumble with the device, attempting to silence it, smash it, anything to no avail, as the zombie has already caught wind of the noise. A searing shriek escapes you as it homes in on your position with alarming speed. Fear overwhelms you, making it impossible to stifle your cries as you try to scramble away from the relentless advance of the oncoming undead.
You cry as you try to move but the zombie is already there, having ran so fast, it fell, which conveniently helped it get to you easier. You struggle against the relentless grip of the zombie, which had managed to reach you despite its fall. A piercing shriek escapes your lips as its bloodied hand seizes your boot, refusing to release its hold, overpowering your feeble attempts to break free. The creature's ghastly appearance sends shivers down your spine, its face a distorted mask of veins snaking through its cheeks to its pitch-black eyes. Smudges of blood and shreds of flesh cling to its decaying teeth, intensifying the nausea already roiling within you.
With a horrifying tug, it secures its grip on your ankle, your skin brushing against its own causing you to cry out even louder, the mere thought of a scratch sealing your fate—infected. The monster echoes your cries with its own guttural growls, hauling you closer with an inhuman force. You resign yourself to the belief that this is the end, that you will meet your demise here. It's over. You're dead.
Yet, just as despair settles in, something yanks the zombie by its legs, pulling it out from beneath the car. In a fleeting moment, you witness a knife thrusting into the creature's skull.
Through your tear-blurred vision, you spot Wooyoung kneeling before you, frantically scanning beneath the car, his disheveled appearance adding an unexpected allure. Specks of blood dot his face, his tousled hair falling across his eyes, a glistening sheen of sweat adorning his flushed cheeks. You sob uncontrollably as he tugs you into his embrace, pulling you out from your hiding place.
As you collapse into his lap, your tears dampening the nape of his neck, he holds you tightly, his broad palm cradling your head, drawing you nearer to him, while his other arm encircles your waist. He sways gently, murmuring reassurances about how you're okay and safe, about how he's not going to let anything hurt you, about how he's sorry, about how he should've been next to you and vows to never leave your side again.
His whispered words of comfort soothe your racing heart, calming the storm within you as you cling to him, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace, the assurance of his protective presence.
He eases you back slightly, his gaze fixated on your face as his hands tenderly sweep away the disheveled strands, tucking them behind your ears to better take in your features. Lowering his head to yours, his forehead presses gently against yours, your breaths mingling in the stillness, the world around you fading into the background as you share a moment of intimacy amidst the desolation of the city.
Guiding your chin with a gentle touch, he guides your lips to meet his in a languid kiss, his tongue delicately tracing the outline of your chapped lips, coaxing you to open them. You allow his tongue to slip past, a gentle dance commencing as it caresses yours, each movement tender and deliberate, creating a rhythm that speaks of both longing and relief. This delicate exchange continues, a cherished connection that speaks volumes in its simplicity and depth.
As you both part, Wooyoung helps you to your feet, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before leading you deeper into the city, glock in hand, toward the refuge of a random apartment, your own little sanctuary.
"Let's go pretty girl, I found some canned peaches, we're gonna eat good tonight"
masterlist | taglist in comments | feedback is appreciated :)
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