#and something about how you should be able to ask your friends to help you move and unpack

[crowofmidnightsworld]

Cooling down | Zayne

Zayne x female reader Type: Smut, almost no plot Synopsis: It was summer. Linkon was hit by a heatwave and you decided to drop by Zayne's office to bring him some ice cream to cool down, but Zayne was the one who ended up helping you cool down. Warnings: MDNI, temperature play, restricion of movement, fingering, oral f!receiving Word count: 1.9

It was the third day in a row that Linkon city had an average temperature of 38°c and you felt like dying. But you knew that Zayne had it worse. You had a couple of days off from work and you could stay home with your AC, that had become your best friend, while Zayne had to work. With that in mind, you decided to do something good. You should definitely drop by his office and bring your favourite sweet tooth some ice cream. Little did you know how that visit would end.

With a tub of the sweetest chocolate ice cream you could find, you went to Asko Hospital. Yvonne and Greyson both jokingly had begged you to give them some too, well Yvonne was joking, but you knew Greyson had been serious about it. You somehow got away from him by telling him that you'd ask Zayne to share but that promise got lost, because of the situation you had found yourself in.

You were sitting on Zayne's desk, him in between your legs and somehow he had tied your wrists together behind your back with his tie. However that could've happened, you didn't even remember but you weren't going to complain. Zayne had been working all day and he had been so happy to see you, especially with that tub of ice cream but was craving something else. Or rather someone else.

"Walking here must've been torture in that heat", he murmured into your ear and he was right, but in that moment the heat you were feeling wasn't because of the temperature outside. Zayne gently moved his fingers along your neck and you let out a hiss at the sudden freezing cold sensation against your skin. Of course he'd use his evol. You had never even considered it, but the sound you made only caused Zayne to chuckle against your ear. Shivers ran down your spine and it wasn't just because of the cold sensation. "Can you do it again?". Your voice was shaky and soft, but Zayne quickly answered by running his fingertips against your neck again. This time taking his time and slowly moving his fingers down to your collarbone. "Anything to help my favourite Patient cool down".

Goosebumps covered your skin from head to toe and you hated that you couldn't move your arms. That you couldn't touch him. But Zayne enjoyed every single second of this. As his fingers continued trailing over your skin, he captured your mouth in a kiss, more desperate than it usually was. Not wanting to waste time, you moved your tongue across his bottom lip, pushing against it, and the sound Zayne made as he opened his mouth was heaven to you. His tongue immediately started pressing against yours, wanting to taste all of you and you let him. It wasn't the first time you and Zayne had done something in his office, but it was still thrilling every time you did.

As Zayne desperately continued kissing you, his hands moved underneath your top and when his cold fingers made contact with your warm skin there, you couldn't keep the gasp in. Your body immediately tried to move away from this sudden cold feeling, but Zayne immediately put his hands on your waist, holding you still. "There are so many more places I need to cool down, Love", he murmured against your lips this time, his voice even deeper than before and you knew that you were done for.

Your breathing quickened the moment Zayne's hands started to travel up and down your sides and he put his mouth on your neck. Kissing and nibbling on the spots that he just cooled down a bit. It felt like torture but you loved every single second of this. He was so skillful with his hands and it was evident to you every time he touched you. Ever so slowly, Zayne reached for your top and pulled it up, obviously not able to take it off completely since your hands were tied behind your back, but he made it work. Your chest was completely exposed and only your bra was keeping Zayne from seeing everything, but his breathing did stock when he saw your black, lacy bra.

"I wanted to surprise you tonight", your voice was nothing but a whisper, seeing how Zayne was looking at you. Reacting to you. Something in his eyes changed, which immediately made something in your warmest spot throb. "So pretty and all mine". There was a growl in his voice as he said this under his breath and just that could've made you finish on the spot. You could only watch as his hands moved to your chest and he pulled down your bra a bit, making your tits spill out.

Zayne didn't waste any time, immediately starting to tease you. His large hands cupping your tits, gently kneading the soft skin with his ice cold hands. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time, and you wanted more. "Let's see what happens when I do this". Even at this point, you weren't fast enough to think about what he meant, before his fingers moved over your nipples, hardening them within seconds. Another hiss escapes your lips, as Zayne started pinching them a little bit. "Fuck... This is...", you started but you couldn't even describe what you were feeling at this moment. You could feel the way Zayne started to smile against your neck, as he started kissing it again, and his fingers continued roaming over your bare skin.

You wanted more. You wanted to pull him closer, touch him, hold him. But you couldn't and it was driving you insane. While Zayne continued playing with your nipples, you could feel yourself getting hotter with every passing second, despite Zayne using his evol to cool you down. Wanting to satisfy the throbbing between your legs, you hooked one leg around Zayne's waist, trying to pull him closer this way. Trying to feel him against you. That attempt didn't quite work out for you, because Zayne immediately took a step back and all you were able to do was whine. "Someone's so needy today", he was mocking you. Teasing you. And while it didn't satisfy you, it did make you want him more.

God, Zayne loved seeing you like this. It was one of the few moments in which he had you wrapped around his fingers and he couldn't wait to see how you'd react to what he's going to do to you next. "I think we should take off those pants". And just like he said he would, he quickly moved to free you from your pants. Even in your compromising position, not able to help him, you suddenly felt yourself sitting on the desk completely bare. No pants and definitely no panties. At this point your heart was already about to burst out of your chest and Zayne noticed it all. The way your breathing picked up, how much you wanted him and especially the glistening wetness of your pussy.

When you first slept with Zayne, you had still been self conscious. You felt so exposed, when you were naked in front of him for the first time but now? You had grown accustomed to the way he'd look at you. The hunger in his eyes not a stranger to you anymore and now you couldn't wait anymore. Just like Zayne couldn't wait, as he knelt down in front of you, keenly inspecting your pussy. So wet and just for him.

The first contact of his cold fingers with your hot skin made you flinch, but Zayne quickly moved his free hand around you and held onto the small of your back. Holding you in place. Zayne couldn't stop thinking about how much he loved seeing you like this. How you'd react to every single one of his touches and how he could make you fall apart with them. At first he's gentle. His fingers slowly glided through your wet folds, before they landed on your clit and that's when he started to put some pressure into his touch. That alone almost made you lose your mind but then he started to blow against the very same spot he had just used his evol on, and all you could do was buck your hips toward him. The mixture of the coldness and his breath, making you feel like it's even colder and once again you hated that your wrists were tied together.

"Zayne, please!". You had never been above begging Zayne for something. Just like he had never been above begging, when you had him wrapped around your fingers. And Zayne wanted to make all of your wishes come true. That's why it didn't take long for you to feel his hot tongue against you. He was savoring every last inch of you, addicted to your taste and he was good at it. Using the perfect amount of pressure, sucking and sometimes nibbling on your clit, and then you felt his cold fingers again. "Let's see what happens when I do this". His words were muffled, because he had no intention of moving away from your pussy and then you already felt it. Zayne pushed two of his cold fingers into you, and that was a sensation you had never felt before.

The combination of his tongue and mouth working wonders and his cold fingers plunging in and out of you almost made your brain short circuit and Zayne knew exactly what he was doing. He moved his fingers at varying speed and with you pushing your hips more and more into his face, chasing the feeling, he knew that you were loving this. Tasting you, seeing you reacting to him like this, had made him so hard but he wanted this to be about you. Needed this to be about you. So he continued using his evol, pumping his fingers into you, lapping at your pussy until he felt you clenching around him.

"Mhmmm, come for me", he hummed against you and that only made you want to lose it even more. You had felt your climax building up the entire time but you were at your breaking point. Zayne was hitting all the right spots, playing you like a fiddle and that's when you lost it. That tight, delicious knot of feelings bursting and it truly felt like you were on fire. Your eyes rolled back as you bit down on your lip, trying not to scream out his name because you two were at the hospital after all, and you were shaking. Zayne's hold on your back became sturdier, knowing that you wouldn't be able to catch yourself if you fell back, and he didn't stop lapping at your pussy. Wanting to taste every single drop of you.

It took you a bit to ride out your climax and to calm down again, but Zayne was patient. He always had been. Once he was satisfied with watching you, knowing that you had come down from that high, he got up from the floor. At this point your brain was mush, only able to watch as he reached around you and untied your wrists. Zayne noticed that you were still trying to catch your breath, which is why he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. You were definitely tired out, but the feeling of Zayne around you made you smile. "Thank you for the ice cream". You felt a soft kiss being placed on your forehead, yet all you could do was giggle.

[mssstojifushiguro]

What a Whore (Gojo x reader x Getou)

Senior College student Y/n is living with her male best friends, and she can't seem to get enough of their presence. She doesn't know what the hell is going on with her body but her consequences from her actions get her fucked by both of her friends.

Masturbation, threesome, clit rubbing, oral sex, sex, orgasms, drinking, bondage-ish, degrading, fingering.

19:00pm

I was in the kitchen making some cocktails that I had been obsessed with this past week for me and Gojo. I made one in the morning, two in the afternoon and another one right now. I swear my liver would burst any minute if I didn't stop. Because the amount of liquor I added in them was so bad, but it was the end of exams week so it was some sort of reward for me.

We was about to watch a horror movie on the glitchy TV and there was no way we could watch that sober, well I was already drunk so I was just drinking on top of my drunkness. It was mid July and the heat in this dorm was about to make me pass the fuck out, my period had just ended not too long ago so that had to be some sort of factor in this.

Gojo came into the kitchen wearing nothing but grey sweat shorts and the Calvin Klein waistband peaking over the shorts, a layer of sweat glistening over his skin. I was still wearing shorts and a bikini top from when I hung out with Shoko this afternoon before she went into placement, it's 7pm Friday and 95 degrees there was no way I was gonna walk around in a shirt.

I couldn't help but stare at his body, especially below the waistband. It wasn't like me to look at him like this but damn...He looked so fine and built and toned and so...big. I squeezed my legs together because I wasn't about to go down that horny path.

"You almost done with the cocktails?"

"Yeah I'm done now actually, take that one." I pointed to the drink that had less liquor in it because I knew Gojo didn't like to drink so I promised I wouldn't add too much.

He took the one opposite to the one I told him to take and sniffed mine and his face scrunched into a ball. "What the fuck Y/n, why's your one so strong? You're gonna be sick tomorrow."

"It's not that bad, stop being dramatic."

"How about I take this one and you take mine, I don't want you throwing up everywhere." Before I could protest Gojo was already out of the room with both of the drinks in his hands. He didn't even like drinking but he still took it. "Weirdo."

I went into the living room where Gojo was and sat beside him. His drink was already half empty beside the loads of sweet snacks we bought to binge on in the plastic bag on the floor. I didn't even need to say anything because I knew it was good.

"You ready to start the movie?" Gojo had the remote in his hand, thumb on the play button waiting for my approval.

The front door opened all of a sudden showing Getou also topless and in black sweat shorts, it had to be some sort of sweat short season for guys or something. But fuck I almost drooled at the state of Getou. His hair was down and slightly messy, the sweat making some strands stick to his forehead.

Even if he was wearing black sweat shorts I could still see the imprint of his dick through the fabric. I clenched my legs again, what was going on with me today? He had just come back from his run we tried to convince him to stay home because of the heat but no he had to keep his schedule as he said.

"How was your run?" I asked finally being able to get a word out of my mouth after getting sidetracked by his physique.

"I don't even wanna talk about it, it's too fucking hot out there." He took his trainers off and ran a hand through his long, black hair.

"Didn't me and Y/n say that you should stay home? Who's fault is this?" Gojo crossed his arms getting all sassy.

"Yeah I should've listened, but look at my body before you question why I do this everyday." Oh I'm fucking looking at your body, that's for sure.

"I see a potbelly forming." Gojo scoffed and turned his attention to his phone, acting like there wasn't an eight pack right in front of his lying ass.

"Fuck off dude, it's okay if you're jealous." That sentence struck a chord in Gojo's feelings his attention was fully back on Getou. He stood up and went towards his best friend standing beside him.

I already knew what they was gonna make me do.

"Y/n who's got better abs, me or Jogo." Getou asked pissing off Gojo even more at the intentional mispronunciation.

"You want me to beat you up so bad."

"Y/n answer the question and whoever loses has to send you $100." I grinned at the last few words.

I began to judge staring hard at both of the shirtless big dick men in front of me. They thought I was judging but really I was just staring at them, my mind went to various scenes in my head I crossed one leg over the other. These guys were so distracted to the point they had no idea I was clearly getting off of them, but then I came to my senses and shrugged. "I don't know, I really don't. Now how about you both send me $100 to make it fair."

Getou smiled because he just knew I was gonna pull that but Gojo was about to lose his shit, his face said it all. "Oh whatever." He scoffed and came back to sit down and Getou went upstairs to have a shower.

"Y/n just tell me the truth was it me who really had the better body?" I knew that Gojo wouldn't let this go until I said it was him so I just said, "Yeah, I just wanted the money from both of you guys." But it was actually Getou who had the better physique, but none of them was ever gonna know.

"I fucking knew it, you was looking at me more. I'll send you double the amount." Gojo pulled out his phone instantly opening the banking app. It brought joy to my life when I heard the word money.

"Let's wait for Getou to come back and we'll start the movie."

OOO

22:58pm

It was about halfway through the second movie, the first one wasn't that scary. But the reason was because I couldn't even concentrate being sandwiched between two men. Their arms were behind my head resting on the back of the couch. Their two scents mixed and my head spun, I had been shuffling around a lot it was a surprise they didn't notice.

I just felt so horny I had no idea why I felt like this, it had to be the drinks I had downed today.

But my clit was pulsing and my nipples hardened, I could no longer feel the breeze of the fan hit against my skin. It felt like a sauna in here. I had a few groans here and there trying to get rid of this feeling.

I just needed to fuck. I really needed to, I wanted both of their dicks. Oh the way my body begged for something big was unbelievable.

What the fuck am I thinking?

But there was only one way to solve this.

I moved one hand over Getou's lap and the other to Gojo's lap. They both tensed at the same time, but I slowly moved my hands to the middle of their lap.

Getou adjusted the way he was sitting pushing himself up and manspreading even more, he didn't look my way but he knew what was about to go down. Gojo cleared his throat taking a peek at me but quickly put his focus back on the TV.

I pressed my fingertips through their shorts, rubbing them through the fabric. I leaned my head on Getou's shoulder putting more pressure on his dick, I could hear his breathing get more intense. It was dark so none of them knew that it was the both of them getting off to my hands.

"Fuck Y/n what are you doing?" Getou whispered only loud enough for me to hear all breathy trying to hold back from groaning. I slid my hands down their boxers finally getting a hold of their hard cocks.

My thumb went straight to their tips rubbing over it at the same fast pace. Gojo groaned enough to catch his friends attention causing him to chuckle in my ear once again. "Both of us huh? What a whore!"

He gasped as I pulled him out of the shorts starting to jerk his whole length off, his struggled moans became more vocal exposing my intentions. I pulled Gojo out wondering if I could get them to cum at the same time.

"Has she got you too Getou?"

"Yeah." Getou was grinning with his eyes staring into the ceiling.

"What a whore." Gojo tutted. "I said the same thing." They both snickered at their 'great minds think alike' moment.

Gojo snuck his hands into my panties finding my clit and not hesitating to rub it in rhythm of my strokes.

"You're all wet Y/n." I whimpered grinding my hips into his finger pads.

The screen of the TV froze and it was bright and exposing. I could see everything, from me jerking Getou and Gojo off to me getting fingered.

"Fuck Y/n wait, I don't wanna cum yet." Gojo's other hand grabbed my wrist but it didn't stop me from rubbing his tip again with my thumb. "No I want you to cum."

"Ah- Shit!" Gojo's hips bucked up as his orgasm won him over and his juice spilt out onto my hand. He became a breathing chaos, twitching violently. His grip loosened and I kept going, I wasn't gonna stop just yet it was too early for that.

Gojo took his hand away from me and pulled the waist of my shorts and Getou got the other side doing the same. My shorts were pulled until it reached my knees and I managed to kick them off. I spread my legs hanging them over their knees wanting more access from the both of them.

Gojo put his hand back on me starting to build up my orgasm once again. It felt so fucking good my hips were following his circles, almost like I had a water-based waistline. "Fuck I love it when her hips move like that." Gojo turned his head to Getou. "She wants to cum so bad- mmh~"

"I wanna cum so bad...please." I rolled my eyes pleading to Gojo. "Tell us how much you want to cum and you gotta be loud about it."

"Fuck off."

"Or I'll stop touching you now." It was silent and all that was heard was the three of us panting, the slick movement of my hands on both dicks and the wet noises of my clit.

"I wanna cum so much, please make me cum. I'm so close, please!" Gojo went faster upon hearing my words, my breathing became ecstatic and it was only a few more moments until my climax. Then Gojo stopped.

"That wasn't good enough." I stared at him on the verge of tears, I had just been waiting for this and it was ruined. "You're an idiot."

"I know." The fucker had the guts to wink.

"Keep going-" Getou threw his head back biting his lip. He thrusted his hips up everytime I reached the top desperate to finish. But I slowed down feeling like he didn't deserve it because of what they did to me. His hand wrapped around mine guiding me to go faster.

A whimper left his throat, his cum landed on my thigh in result of his orgasm.

The boys looked at each other and nodded like they had a plan in their head. I watched them stand up and face me, but then I got caught off guard when Gojo grabbed me by my hair fisting it forcing me to look at him from below. "Open your mouth...yeah good." He levelled his dick to my mouth and pushed himself in all the way until he was balls deep. My hands flew to his sides, nails digging into his skin as I gagged violently over and over.

He walked backwards dragging me off the couch and onto my knees crawling with him until his legs hit the coffee table and he sat down on top of the snack packets. Gojo yanked my head back up giving me the privilege to breathe. I was bent over on all fours, my bare ass in the air.

He forced my head back down, his tip hitting the back of my throat and there was still some dick left outside my lips. I teared up furiously breathing through my nose trying not to gag again. He began to start the rhythm bringing me to the top, then the base. "Suck harder!" Gojo demanded pushing me down the hardest he's ever had. He let go of my hair when I sprung my head back up from the gag I felt was gonna cause me to throw up.

"I'm gonna throw up." I coughed about to stand up but another hand grabbed my hair and twisted my neck 90° filling my mouth with another cock. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Getou who had a smirk on his lips. "Sorry baby, I had to." I blinked away tears at the amount of gagging I just went through in less than 3 minutes.

He bobbed my head up and down in full control of me. My throat getting used and abused. Gojo now behind me pulled the strings of my bikini top off leaving me completely naked.

Getou's hands reached under my arms and dragged me off of Getou forcing me to stand up and bend over when his palm pushed my back down. He held his penis at my pussy, who'd been aching for attention for the longest time, thrusting himself in one quick movement. "Sorry Getou, stole your girl."

"Gojo!" My knees buckled but he caught me by the waist starting to fuck me before I could even catch my first few seconds of stability.

"It's alright, I'll just occupy her mouth...open wide pretty." Expecting to get my hair pulled again he just held himself in front of my eyes. I opened my mouth and not a second was wasted ploughing my throat. My knees gave out but I was kept in the same position, feet practically off the ground.

Fingers invaded my hair getting moved into a ponytail. I choked on my moans and sobbed from the pleasure overload. One hand of mine flew to my clit and the other to hold Getou's forearm. I rubbed myself in fast circles, twitching here and there clenching around the big girth hitting most of my spots. It was a disappointment he wasn't big enough to hit all of them, neither was Getou from the last times. But they both felt so good just not so good. Maybe there's someone out there that could fuck me so good I would never go back.

My moans were all over the place and I forced myself to breathe through my nose but sometimes that would come to a stop when Getou would keep his dick all the way in for more than five seconds. "Fuck Y/n, you're so-" Gojo thrusts became more wet, it was clear he was gonna cum in me. I was so out of it, they used me like a toy...and I enjoyed it. The clapping of my skin contact made with Gojo sounded like gunshots.

Gojo's grip on my waist tightened and my legs shook. "We can get the plan B tomorrow." He moaned slowing down as his cum filled up my insides and just as he finished Getou started. "Did he make you cum?" Getou asked pulling himself out giving my right to breathe back after swallowing.

"No." Getou's eyebrows furrowed at my answer.

"Gojo move."

"Why?"

"You can't seem to do your job right, pull out." Gojo pulled out and I straightened my back feeling so stiff. "Come sit here girl." Getou was sat in the middle of the couch, legs spread and dick pointing to the ceiling. I got on him straddling his sides and my hole just above his penis I put my hands on his shoulders and locked eyes with him. "Ride me until you cum."

I sat down on his dick sinking in on it, my face scrunched at the length when his tip pushed against my cervix. I buried my face in his neck grinding my hips on him. "Don't worry if I cum before you just keep going."

"You know I haven't done this before right?" My legs were already shaking just by sitting on it. Getou placed his hands on my hips and moved it in a motion. "Keep rocking your hips back and forth...yeah like that." I groaned out of pain, I just knew that I would be able to do the splits if we went on for an hour.

"Take your time." Getou's voice was low and soft, it was a comforting tone and it turned me on even more. His hands were shaking and he bit his lips not wanting to be as vocal as he could be about his pleasure.

I lifted my ass up and slammed myself back down, earning me a huge gasp from Getou. If it wasn't for me losing my breath I would've screamed. I bit his neck going back to grinding at a higher speed, I just wanted to get off from this.

Every time I tried to exhale it would go into a moan, this was the most I had ever felt from a dick.

His thumbs circled my hard nipples and squeezed them, my nipples were just as sensitive as my clit at the moment.

It began to feel like too much pleasure for me. "No stop fuck- Getou." And that's when he started rubbing my clit. "Shit!" I was overstimulated with pleasure and was about to go through an orgasm. "Getou I'm gonna-" "I know baby." I cringed at the pet name but my body reacted to it when my orgasm drove through me leaving me shaking. Getou came inside me emptying the results of his climax.

Our breaths fell in sync calling down from our high and I was still edgy. I loosened my grip on his shoulders and let my head rest on his neck once again. A pair of hands snuck under my arms, pulling me out in the process of lifting me and forced me to stand up. "Toru wait- my legs!"

My legs gave out and I was on the floor within seconds. Gojo joined me on the ground with a grin on his face getting all up close to my lips. "My turn right?" I bit the inside of my cheek wanting to hide my shame he could see the words 'yes' in my eyes waiting for my approval.

I laid on my back and spread my legs with strong eye contact with the black haired male watching me whore myself off. He grabbed under my knees and pushed them back until they touched the floor. I was so exposed, the air brushing over my vagina and my ass.

The sound of a camera shutter coming from Getou's phone stole my attention. "Just sending it to Shoko, showing her what she's missing out on whilst she's on placement."

"Nah man take a video and set your phone up somewhere." Gojo winked with a cheesy smile.

Getou stood up and set the phone on the leg of the table. I attempted to move my body getting sore already. "Don't be moving around too much- hey Getou come hold her for me."

Getou got on his knees over my head and his dick was hanging above my face inches away from his tip. "Straighten your legs." He reached over getting his hands behind my knees and pushed them down to the floor.

The only thing I could do was look up at Getou's dick because lifting my head up to see what Gojo was doing would end up with balls and dick on my forehead.

I stuck my tongue out licking his tip, tasting myself and him causing his whole thing to move. That's when a wet tongue had struck my clit. I bucked my hips up only to be held in more restriction. His tongue swiped side to side at an insane speed, my arms were trapped under my legs.

"Gojo!"

"Mhmmmmm?" He answered in a hum.

I whimpered feeling helpless. I couldn't grab anything to take out my pressure on, balling my fists hard wasn't enough. I just had to lay there and take it. I was a moaning hot mess, twitching every second, I needed movement to express myself.

My mouth agape letting whatever noise that needed to come out cry. Tears emerging again at the frustration.

I fucking loved it.

A warm substance shot and dribbled on my face just as Gojo inserted his fingers in. I bent my neck up and slapped myself with a dick.

"Shit sorry Y/n, I just came on your face." Getou chuckled.

"Fuck!"

I inhaled sharply crying out at the sudden intense speed of Gojo's long fingers rubbing up on my walls. "I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum!"

Waves of satisfaction hit me repeatedly, I panted heavily just waiting for my climax to catch on. And when it finally did, the strength of my legs almost broke free from its hold. I sobbed hard and loud, I didn't care if the other people in the corridor could hear me.

Gojo just kept on going at the same speed, he wasn't done eating yet. He was moaning and slurping like he was starving, but when he was done he lifted his face up. His chin was dripping and his lips were plumped up.

"Sorry I couldn't resist myself, you just tasted too fucking good."

Words couldn't even form out of me, nor in my mind. I just curled myself up in a ball once Getou let go.

I shut my eyes and smiled because I just got fucked.

"We aren't done yet Y/n. I haven't had a taste of you." Getou winked standing over me.

[ghouljams]

I used to use c.ai to help me write when I went through a mental block. I didn’t see the harm cause I’d put in my own original characters to “speak” to. I wanted it to be easy and I’d just blab and talk to’em cause I didn’t want to write in my word doc. And then it started becoming more, I stopped writing entirely and stayed on c.ai. It gave me that rush you were mentioning and I couldn’t put my phone down.

It wasn’t until I saw writers talking about how their works were being screened and taken and then used for c.ai that I realized that I was part of the problem. I was one of the reasons why writers works were being stolen and taken and I felt incredibly guilty. Even using my own OC’s, even putting my own works into it, I was still stealing. I was still taking from real authors and real writers just so I could “feel” like I was speaking to my OC’s.

I’m glad to say that I quit and got out of it. I replaced c.ai with hobbies and spent my time creating instead of taking, you know? I still feel bad using it. I write every now and then but it just feels wrong to write now.

I think this shows one of the biggest issues with c.ai and generative ai: you STOPPED creating.

You weren't just stealing from other authors you were stealing from yourself. You were giving your art to the machine and it was grinding that art down to the base components so that it could put a bunch of ground meat on your plate and call it steak. Your art wasn't just being sold to you, but to other people, regurgitated into a slurry that leaves you starving for the real thing.

This is just my own opinion on the niche that "ai as a tool" is filling, but I truly think that this is a symptom of the loneliness epidemic. It used to be that if you were stuck on a story beat or needed to bounce ideas off something you'd go to your friend and word vomit on them until you reached a ping-pong-ing idea nirvana. Now you can just go to a robot and avoid talking to other people(avoid talking to yourself even!) because the robot will give you something that it thinks you might like.

It's nice being able to talk to your OCs, but (and this is truly the best advice I ever received about writing) they're not real people.

I was once at a book reading/Q&A with an author who wrote short stories, and a well meaning student asked him "How do you get your characters to do what you want them to do when they seem so determined to do something else?" And he said, "I don't make them do anything. They're not real, so they feel and act how I write them to."

Writing (any kind of creation) is a muscle that you have to work out in order to use it for long stretches. It hurts when you're not used to using it, and when you've gotten used to a certain kind of dopamine rush or style it feels bad to write. I had a human rp partner that I wrote with for years, I'm talking novel series length roleplays, and when I tried to write for myself it hurt. I felt bad, like it wasn't up to snuff, like I only knew how to write half a story, like they could do it better if I just could hop in a rp with them. It sucked. I wrote a horrible novel trying to cope with my rp withdrawals lol.

Using "generative" ai atrophies your creative muscles. It's not a tool so much as an easy way out. Creating is hard, it just is, it takes a piece of you and puts it out into the world. You don't always see the fruits of your labor right away, and that makes it feel like your effort was wasted, but just because the seed you planted doesn't sprout right away doesn't mean it's dead.

If it feels wrong to write then change how you write. Maybe you should try roleplaying with yourself like I suggested to the other anon. Write like a chat:

Soap: Hello Ghoul

Me: Back off freak.

Bring back the old fanfiction dot net style of authors interacting with characters directly. There's no rules to your art, write in a way that makes you happy because it's your writing and not an ai. Write yourself into your OC's stories as a random extra, write from that perspective. Make up aus for no reason other than you want to. Follow every plot bunny that catches your attention. Put one sentence in your notes app and forget about it. You're building creative muscles, it's not going to feel great, and maybe it'll take a while to get back to where you were before you started using c.ai, but if the time passes anyway then why not try?

[naamahdarling]

Set reminders on your phone to refill your scrips as soon as you can do so. This will get you a few extra days of meds a month. Set those aside to cover your ass during delays.

Your pharmacist may be able to help you move things around so all/most of your monthly things can be done at once.

Keep a list of your meds on your phone. If you're worried that this particular provider is over sensitive and it might make you look overprepared, you can always drop in a line about how your your friend or relative insisted you do it, haha, but it really has made things easier.

Keep a list of every medication you have been given, when you started it, when you stopped taking it, and why you took it and why you stopped. This is especially useful if you are trying out different medications, like for depression or ADHD or whatever, and you wind up trying two or three or five different things in a relatively short period of time. You think you'll be able to remember the first one or two and don't need to write it down, but trust me, it is very possible he will need that information and not be able to remember it.

Jot down any phone call you received or place, and the name of who you spoke to, and what time the call occurred. Make a note of what was said.

Yes, bring people to appointments.

Have people there when you are on the phone if possible.

You can introduce them as your advocate, if you think that might be advantageous. This works better on the phone, where they should introduce themselves. In person, they should be dressed nicely, even if you look like crap. They don't have to talk for you, just be there. This made a huge difference when resolving my boyfriend's major issues at a psych clinic.

If you bring someone to an appointment and want them to come back with you, go up to the front desk and ask for a release that will allow them to do so. Some places aren't super strict about it but you still want them on the record for phone calls and such. Other places, such as GAC and reproductive health clinics, can be a lot stricter (for good reasons) and you will absolutely need the release.

Always ask how long a medication will take to work, and how long you should wait before contacting them if it doesn't seem to be working. This is an extremely helpful thing to know but they often don't remember to tell you.

When trying to get a bureaucratic problem fixed, always act as though you are just so glad to be speaking to THE person who can help you. Act as though they are the solution, make them feel appreciated. If all they can do is refer you to someone else, brilliant, they still did you a tremendous favor! I know it's really hard to be polite sometimes, but if you have a beef with a clinic or insurance company, but not the person you were speaking to, it doesn't pay to be actively rude. Even if you do have beef with the person you're speaking to, it still doesn't pay to be rude.

When dealing with red tape, always ask what the next step is, and whether you need to do it or whether they will do it for you. Know how long it should take something to be done, and check back in when that time arrives. Even if you have a really great relationship with a clinic, this is such a helpful thing to do for both of you.

Record all phone calls. Talker ACR and Talker ACR Helper, used together, will let you. Download them from app site, stores don't have them. Obviously, don't do this if it's illegal where you are. This is incredibly handy for reference, if you need to go back and check who you spoke to, ask a friend for an opinion, or see if they really said that absolutely batshit thing you think you heard them say.

If you are treated poorly and feel that you can do so safely without compromising your identity in a way that will lead to further poor care, leave bad reviews on major review sites, and encourage other patients to do so as well, if you know anyone in the same position. Google reviews are actually useful to people, they are one of the first places people check, but there are physician review sites as well. Leave reviews there. If you have multiple other patients leaving reviews, over time you can tank a clinic's rating. (Obviously do not have your entire friends group leave negative reviews over the same incident. That will lead to what you say being dismissed, and on some sites removed altogether.) If it prevents even one person from wasting their time or getting hurt, it's worth speaking out, especially if the issue is bigotry. I have avoided clinics and providers where homophobia/transphobia/fatphobia was mentioned, and considered that a bullet dodged.

With reviews, be clear right up front in the first line whether it was clinic staff or the provider that was the issue. Providers often work at more than one facility, so if you find out that this is the case it's perfectly acceptable to leave a bad review for them at that facility as well. I keep track of the couple of people who openly verbally abused me or who almost caused me harm, and make sure that bad reviews follow them wherever they go. Be aware you may be burning bridges, use discretion and possibly an account that is not attached to your real name. If there were identifying features to the encounter and you don't want them to know it was you, do not include those, or disguise those in a credible way. You can also wait a while. If they leave a response with the number of a clinic manager, consider calling them back. It isn't always helpful, but it can be super helpful if the clinic manager was unaware of what's going on.

Filing complaints with state licensing boards typically isn't difficult. Consider doing so if something truly egregious happened. Also, you can typically check medical licensing boards to see if there have been complaints filed or measures taken against a particular provider. Different kinds of provider may have different licensing boards, make sure you are looking at the right one for the type of provider you are seeing. If the professional does not appear on the licensing board website you may need to check a different organization, or even in a different state. The licensing boards are typically made up of medical professionals, so they are less likely to rule in favor of the patient than if they were patient-led as they should be, but a pattern of behavior, once established, can lead to future action and help others.

Do not threaten legal action. If that's the route you want to take, move in the shadows. If there's going to be a lawsuit, they should hear about that first from your lawyer. Don't give them warning, don't telegraph your actions. This is what a lawyer told me, so I'm assuming it's good advice.

That said, super politely asking for the name of the clinic manager or for regional/corporate headquarters can get things moving. It's a little aggressive, so take care with how you go about it, but a couple of times when I was in dire straits it was the only thing that got things done.

Good luck!

I've been disabled for almost 29 years. Here's what I've learned.

Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.

If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.

Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.

Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.

Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.

Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.

Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".

If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.

Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.

Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.

Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.

If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.

Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.

High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.

You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.

Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.

You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.

Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.

If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.

Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 10 (Final)

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 2055 (approx.)

64.media.tumblr.com

GIF by dazedandkaitfused

Later that afternoon, Wanda & Nat help you get ready for your date with Steve.  They do your hair and makeup and help you pick a dress that will knock Steve’s socks off.

The red dress you found in your closet just called to you when you flicked through everything and Nat and Wanda exchanged glances when you sighed and said “This is the one.”

At exactly 6pm, there’s a knock on the door and all of a sudden you have a stomach full of butterflies.  You open the door to Steve standing there in a navy suit with a tie that is very close to matching the blue of his eyes.

“Well, Captain Rogers, you look very handsome.  I love the suit.  Maybe we should have met downstairs, cause I might not want to go anywhere right now.” You say, blushing and thanking your lucky stars that Nat & Wanda are no longer with you.  They would have teased you mercilessly for a long time over that one.

Steve laughs “I agree sweetheart, you look simply ravishing and I really would love nothing better than to see that dress on the floor, but we have reservations, so we have to get going.”

You laugh and kiss him before turning and walking in front of him down the stairs, swinging your hips as you go.

After about a half hour drive, you pull up outside a vaguely familiar restaurant.

“Steve, we’ve been here before, haven’t we?” you asked as he holds the car door open for you and offers you his hand to help you out.

“That we have gorgeous.  In fact, it’s one of our favourite places for a nice dinner out.”

You walk in and the hostess greets you like old friends.  You try to remember her but can’t quite place her in your head yet.  She leads you to a seat in the back that is fairly secluded and lit up with lots of candles.  There’s a bunch of red roses on the table and you look at Steve.

“Are these for me?” He nods. “They’re gorgeous.  How did I get so lucky?”

“I think I’m the lucky one, honey.  Sit, sit.  First course will be out shortly.”

Dinner is incredible, you wish you remembered this place but hope that the memories will come back to you like all the others. 

The conversation flows nicely and you feel like Steve is trying to make you remember some of the smaller stuff by bringing up stories from your relationship.

When dinner is done, Steve suggests going for a walk before you head home.  You agree quickly because it’s beautiful clear weather, and you really don’t want the night to end.

You head towards a local park nearby, hand in hand and Steve goes very quiet. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Cap?”

Steve stops and turns to face you, he grabs your hands and lifts one and presses a kiss on the back of your hand.

“I got very lucky the day you agreed to be mine.  Over the past couple of months I thought I’d lost you totally, and my heart couldn’t have been happier than when you remembered us.”

He leads you around the corner for you to see the small jetty in the park, over a lake that is twinkling in the starlight, all lit up with fairy lights and more roses.

“Steve, when did you do this?”

“Y/n, I love you with all my heart, with everything I am and everything I have.”

He gets down on one knee and pulls a box out of his pocket.  Opening the box you see a gorgeous diamond ring.

“I got lucky once, but I would be the luckiest guy in the world to be able to do this twice with the same woman.

Y/n, will you be my wife, will you be mine for the rest of our lives?”

You realise you are crying, as is Steve, but your answer is obvious “Yes Steve, of course. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather do this with twice.”  You both laugh, through your tears.

He stands up and puts the ring on your finger and you kiss.  Just then you hear a commotion and look up to see Nat & Wanda heading across the park crying with happiness and demanding to see the ring - even though they already knew what it looked like.

You realise they would have helped Steve out with this, and keeping an eye on it while you had dinner.

All of a sudden a memory hits you and you gasp.

“Y/n, sweetheart is everything ok?” Steve asks, hoping you aren’t changing your mind.

“Oh Steve, this is exactly how you planned our first engagement isn’t it.  I just remembered.”

“Only the best for you my gorgeous girl.  It was perfect the first time, and if you never remembered it, I wanted you to have it as the memory of our engagement.”

You start crying again at his sweetness and thoughtfulness to give you this amazing memory the exact same as the first time.  You throw your arms around his neck and smash your lips to his, to which he immediately kisses you back, putting his hand on the back of your head.

A few minutes later, you hear a clearing of a throat and remember that Nat & Wanda are here with you, so you apologise and suggest you all head back to the compound.

Tony is waiting as you enter the common room the next morning. “Hey you lovebirds, how are things, any progress on the rest of the memories?”

“Not much more than last night I’m afraid.” You say sadly. “But we’ve been enjoying ‘getting to know each other’ again.”

Tony laughs “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Shut up old man.” You laugh at his statement as if he is double your age.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Tony asked.

“Y/n wanted me to tell her about Noah, she remembered me mentioning him and my reaction when she didn’t remember him yesterday.  We wanted to see what your thoughts were on that one - we don’t want to jeopardise any progress Y/n’s already made.” Steve explained to Tony.

Tony calls Bruce in to get his input on this one.

“Well, given she has most of her memories back except this one, maybe it’s not too big a leap?” Bruce suggests.

“Right, well, I need to go do something,” Steve says. “I’ll be back soon and we’ll talk then, ok Y/n?”

“Oh, ok, are you sure you need to leave now?  Like, right now?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, but I’ll be back as soon as quickly as I can.”

Steve leaves and you look at Tony & Bruce who shrug.  They both know where he’s going and what he’s doing but they don’t want to spoil anything.

“Well, if he’s going somewhere, I’m going to go for a run to clear my head and hopefully he’ll be back before, or just after I am.”  You head up to your room to change and head out into the compound gardens, following the running path that Tony had installed so you could all exercise outside in the fresh air.

The breeze in your face grounds you and makes you happy, but not as happy as knowing that Steve never cheated on his fiancé with you, that you are his fiancé, and all is now right with the world and that soon, you would find out about Noah.

Steve returns to the compound a little while later with Noah.

“Tony, where’s Y/n?” he asks.

“She went for a run Steve, hopefully won’t be too long.  Hey mini Cap, you wanna come with me and get something to eat?” he asks Noah.

Noah looks excitedly to Steve.  Apart from you, Steve and his honorary aunts and uncles, food is one of his favourite things.

“Thanks Tony,” Steve answers. “Hey Buddy, how about you go with Uncle Tony and we will see you soon.”

Noah nods and Tony takes his hand and leads him to the kitchen.  Steve sits in the lounge with Bruce, waiting for Y/n to come back from her run.

Tony re-enters the lounge and looks around “Isn’t she back yet?  I don’t think I can fit any more food into this kid.”  Noah is now sitting at the coffee table, drawing and colouring.

“What time did she go for her run,” Steve asks them. “It’s a couple of hours since I left to get Noah, she should be back by now.”

Steve starts freaking out, hoping she hasn’t left again, or worse.  He tries to hide his worry from Noah, because he doesn’t need to see that right now.

Tony asks Friday to call everyone together.

FRIDAY: All Avengers, please meet in the lounge immediately

The Avengers assemble in the lounge and Tony tells them Y/n went for a run about 2.5 hours ago and hasn’t returned. 

“Noah is here, waiting to see Y/n for the first time in months, so we need to find her.  Let’s all spread out and look.  Stay on Comms and let me know if you see anything.” Tony explains.

The Avengers spread out and searched the compound grounds for you.  After about half an hour, they all came back to the lounge, no sign of you at all.

Steve is getting anxious so he starts Noah’s night-time routine to distract himself.

“Steve, is her phone here?” Bruce asks him.

“I can’t see it, but hang on let me ring it.” Steve dials your number and listens to it ring.. and ring.. and ring. “It’s ringing, she’s not answering, but it’s ringing.”

Tony sighs. “Ok, maybe we can track it - I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.  Sorry Steve.”

“Just find her Tony, I can’t lose her, Noah can’t lose her.”

All of a sudden, a commotion downstairs interrupts their conversation.  They look at each other and Tony runs downstairs.  Nat comes up and tells Steve to go, she’ll keep an eye on Noah for now.

Steve runs downstairs to see you on one of the beds in the lab.

“What the hell happened?” Steve demanded.

“Language Steve.” Bucky laughed, trying to cut the tension with a little humour.

“Now is not the time Buck.  What happened to her?”

Bucky explains “I found her, she’d fallen and was unconscious when I got to her, I hope this doesn’t put her memory recovery back, can you tell if she hit her head yet?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Bruce answers. “It could just be the shock of the fall.  But we’ll have to wait for her to wake up.”

“I can’t do this again.  What if she doesn’t wake up this time.” Steve worries.

The Avengers all try to comfort Steve, not knowing what else to do.

Time jump - 2 Days have passed and you are still unconscious. 

Even Tony is worried at this point. “We might have to transfer her to the hospital if she doesn’t wake up today.”

“Geez are you two ladies all right, no hospital, ok?” you try to joke.

“Y/n, you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Tony asks you, hopeful that your memory hadn’t gone backwards.

“A little groggy and a splitting headache, but ok otherwise I think.  What happened?  I remember Steve left to get Noah and I went for a run.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked at you and took in what you said.  “Wait, you knew I went to get Noah?”

You laugh at his shock “Well, where else would you have gone, he wasn’t here and he needs his Mum & Dad.  Where is he? I need to see him.”

“Oh my gosh sweetheart, I’ll go get him.”

Steve runs upstairs and returns with Noah who gets super excited to see his Mummy.  You hold your hands out to him and he practically jumps out of Steve’s arms into yours, giggling the whole time.

“Mummy, I miss you. Don’ go ‘way ‘gen, ‘k?” Noah asks flashing you his big blue-green puppy-dog eyes, exactly like his Dad’s.

“I won’t bubba, I’m here to stay forever.” You reply to him.

“My family is back together” Steve says incredulously.

THE END. Maybe…

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash @mrsnikstan @harrysnovia @salemslostwitch

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

Chapter 13

read it on ao3

Chapter 14

CW: alcoholism & heavy drug usage

You know you have to find some way to get through to her, but every time you open your mouth, she outright snarls! You’re nearly back at Zaun, and you still haven’t managed to get a word in edge-wise, too afraid she’ll snap at you and leave you in the mountains to fend for yourself. Yet, your hands knit together in your reigns, brows furrowed, watching her in the vain hope she’ll turn around and demand you spit it out.

No such luck.  

Eventually, you’re fed up and can see Zaun peaking over the horizon. There’s still a leg of the trail to go – twisting down the mountain and into the valley – so you muster all the courage (and audacity) you have left in your body to finally speak.

“What the fuck was that back there?” It comes out harsher than intended; you cringe at your own words.

Sevika’s head whips around, glaring you down as if she can get you to shut up again. She speaks haltingly as if each word is a poisoned dagger: “Drop it. It wasn’t anything. We encountered a horde. That’s it.”

“You almost died, Sevika!” you counter, urging King up alongside Duchess. “Died. As in: I would have been left alone in Piltover to find my way back to Zaun with or without your corpse. And now you won’t even let me talk about it! We should have started heading back the moment you began limping, not three hours afterwards, when we finally got caught. I don’t understand you; one moment, you’re perfectly fine with asking for help; the next, you stiffen your lip at the barest inkling that maybe that injury did more to you than we know. It’s fucking dangerous as Hell!”

“Drop it,” Sevika growls, shoulders tensed as she glares at the ground in front of her.

“No, I will not! Do you even know how it felt when I realized you weren’t behind me? I thought you were dead. That I was going to have to drag the corpse of my best friend out of the bottom of an infected horde just to give you a proper fucking burial. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’ve got a death wish or some fucked up complex; that was the worst fear I have ever felt in my life! And I have run from – Hell, even gone up against – infected hordes by myself with nothing more than a machete. So, I’m sorry that I won’t ‘Drop it’ because you are trying to brood away the pain instead of appearing weak, but I’d rather you have admitted you needed a fucking break than put both of us in that position! I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if you can’t do everything you could before your leg got bit or you lost your arm because I never really knew you before those. You’re not weak to me if you’re in pain, Sev’ you’re just human. Given all the fucked-up shit that’s happened in the world, I’ll take human over dead any day of the week. Suffering silently around me doesn’t do either of us any good – it’s not as if I’ll go out to every person in Zaun and besmirch your reputation. I haven’t told anyone about your leg for three weeks! I can keep shit to myself – you know that. So, excuse me if I’d prefer you alive than dead, especially if you died to save my sorry ass. I had nowhere and nobody before I met you, Sevika, don’t make me lose that again.”

You’re panting by the time you finish your rant, so caught up in the emotional turmoil that had been stewing for hours that you hadn’t been able to shut your mouth after you made your point. You just had to go and beat a dead horse.

Sevika turns her head away from you, hanging it low towards the earth beneath your horses. Your gut broils with anxiety – worried you’ve finally broken the last straw and shoved her away from you for good. The rest of the ride is silent as you wind your hands in King’s reigns, glancing nervously at her as Duchess trudges down the trail. You want to speak up – to say something, anything, that might fix the damage you unwittingly inflicted but can’t find the words to justify your actions. As Zaun’s gates dawn on you, you can almost taste blood from how hard you’re biting your tongue. Remorse doesn’t even begin to describe the turmoil broiling in your gut.

Out of everything you have said to her over the past few weeks, why did you have to go and find a way to fuck it up now?

As you dismount King, you stand nervously in the stables, unsure if you’re allowed to follow Sevika home. She’s pulling the supplies out of Duchess’ saddlebags and setting the saddle on a nearby post with a blank expression that twists your gut. Thankfully, Grayson swoops in, unwittingly saving you from the Hell you created.

“Ah, good, you two are back sooner than expected. I can take the supplies –“ she reaches out to take them from your arms; you let them go willingly – “Singed has requested your help today. I’m still putting the finishing touches on your printing press, assuming you have found the supplies I requested. That candy shop of yours is almost open for business.”

“Yes, we, er – we found the supplies. Nearly got chomped, but we managed it,” you mumble absent-mindedly, sending one final glance to Sevika. Her back is to you, busy brushing out Duchess. A sullen sigh escapes you before you can catch it. “You said Singed needs me?”

You miss the way Grayson arches an eyebrow behind your back, readjusting the supplies in her arms. “In an hour or so… why don’t you join me for breakfast? You can help me take these supplies to the warehouse, and then I can pay you back in kind with a hot meal. Nothing fancy, just the diner.”

“Sounds great,” you say with feigned enthusiasm. You take the rest of the supplies – Sevika’s supplies – that had been leaning against the stable stall for someone to cart off.

There’s not much more you can say to Sevika; what could you possibly muster up that you haven’t already said – that wouldn’t make it worse? Following Grayson out of the barn, you toss a quick goodbye to King over your shoulder. It’s up to Sevika whether or not she hears it as well. You can handle the dilemma of where you’re sleeping tonight after your shift; right now, you’re going to enjoy the fact you’re still alive. You are not her girlfriend; You are her friend. You are not responsible for Sevika’s self-sacrificial behaviour, no matter how much you wish you were. You have made your point; it is up to her if she listens or if you’re sleeping at… okay, well, you’re not quite sure where you’ll sleep tonight if she kicks you out, but you can cross that bridge when you get to it.

Grayson leads you to a nearby warehouse used to store Zaun’s communal materials. The new items are placed in a bin at the front, and workers snatch them up to catalogue what has been brought in. Grayson immediately checks out the supplies for the printing press, carting them off to her store to stash them away. You follow after her like a lost puppy as she weaves through the streets with a practiced ease, the silence stretched between the two of you eased with light conversation about your day-to-day lives. Little things, such as a particularly difficult chair order she had to fulfill and your work with Singed. She maintains a mild curiosity as the two of you step into the diner, her holding the door open for you (you duck and blush, trying not to focus on the way her bicep flexes from the weight of the door).

A waitress sits you at a table near the window, sunlight shining onto your table, casting the menus and Grayson’s black hair in a golden glow. You giggle nervously when your fingers brush reaching for the waters the waitress brings to the table before leaving you to contemplate your orders.

“Everything sounds so good after nine years without all of this,” you say, torn between absolutely everything on the menu. “What do you recommend?”

Grayson rests her chin between her forefinger and thumb, levelling you with a thoughtful gaze. You try not to squirm as she drags her eyes across your face.

“The crepes. Jericho has spent the last year perfecting them after Vi found Caitlyn in Piltover. Young Kiramman always requests them for breakfast. You will enjoy them; they come with fresh strawberries,” Grayson states in a tone that swings violently between flirtatious and matter-of-fact, making your head spin.

“Get all that from my face, did you?” you ask, exhorting her to piece out her reasoning.

“It was an educated guess that you enjoy sweet things, darling. A majority of the menu items involve syrup or sugar – your inability to choose between them suggested such,” Grayson explains as the waitress returns, burying the pet name amongst the tall grass of her logic.

You swallow thickly, ducking your head ever so slightly – embarrassed you were so easy to read (and maybe a little turned on from the careful attention). Grayson orders for both of you: for you, crepes and an egg (she does ask for your preference); for herself, two eggs, sunny-side up, with a side of whole wheat toast and beef-based sausages. You can feel yourself begin to salivate as the waitress asks if you would prefer strawberry syrup or maple syrup, greedily ordering both. Grayson chuckles softly as if she’s amused and pleased at your order (you can’t help but blush, ducking your head to hide it). The waitress merely jots it down and promises the food will be out shortly.

Leaving you and Grayson to sit quietly at the table, conversation stagnating between you two. Only the gentle hum of other people’s conversations and the old melody playing out of the jukebox fill the diner. It does not help that you are expending all your mental energy ogling Grayson as stealthily as you can manage, still dressed in Sevika’s shirt, and fueled by more than a little pent-up frustration at Sevika. Part of you is secretly hoping that Sevika will walk into the diner to see you and Grayson having breakfast together, think it’s a date, and stake her claim on you. Unfortunately, that is merely wishful thinking, and you know deep down Sevika doesn’t want you that way.

She’s just a friend.

Being friendly.

The chaste kisses on the cheek and the way she holds you just a little longer than necessary are nothing more than platonic. Today proved that much.

“What is plaguing you?” Grayson asks, breaking the silence.  

“Sorry, what?” you blink back into reality, staring at her owlishly.

“Unless you are hungrier than I thought, you have the look of someone… deeply troubled,” Grayson explains calmly, resting her arms on the tabletop. It makes her shirt strain around her well-built frame. “Anything I can help with?”

“Sorry, no,” you apologize again, fidgeting with your sleeve. “I’m just tired… and Piltover was… a lot – to put it mildly. We nearly died; frankly, I’m surprised we didn’t. There was a moment where I was certain that blowing us up was better than letting the approaching horde of infected tear us apart. Which, is strange to say even now, after everything that has happened, but, unfortunately, the apocalypse never seems to cheapen.”

Grayson rests her hand over yours, stopping you from unraveling the fraying sleeve of Sevika’s shirt. “I am sure Singed would understand if you went home. The apocalypse catches up to us all, eventually. There are days where I don’t open my doors – when I still remember the worst of it all.”

You focus on the gentle sensation of her thumb stroking against the back of your hand as you shake your head slowly. “I couldn’t. I kind of tore Sevika a new asshole for the stunt she pulled – it’s a long and personal story I don’t think she’d appreciate me telling other people about, but the short version is that she almost died instead of asking for help. Now she won’t talk to me… I think I fucked up, and now I don’t even have a place to sleep tonight.”

“Sevika’s a big girl; she can handle a little lecture here and there. She just doesn’t like to admit that others are right. Give her time; she’ll come around. If she doesn’t concede before the end of the day – or you find yourself without a place to sleep – I have a spare bedroom at my place that you’re free to crash in,” Grayson offers, squeezing your hand. Her warm smile coils in your gut, radiating like a hot meal scarfed down too fast, warming you from the inside out whether you like it or not.

You can’t help but give yourself over to the sensation. “Thank you; hopefully, I don’t have to take you up on the offer, but it’s nice to know I have the option.”

Her smile only burns brighter, and you can’t help but smile with her. You want to say more – she looks like she’s about to say more. Then the waitress returns, setting your respective plates in front of you, and the two of you pull apart as if you’d been burned.

Breakfast is delicious, just as she promised. You have to hold yourself back from scarfing it down all at once, torn between a desire to savour it and the starving hunger you hadn’t acknowledged until food was in front of you. You are barely able to stop yourself from licking the plate clean! Thankfully, you manage to reign yourself in so you don’t make a bigger fool out of yourself in front of Grayson. If she notices the desperation in your eyes, she doesn’t comment on it, instead making polite conversation about the various menu items. Things she liked, the different dishes the chefs were better at, and ingredient sources. You make a mental note to invite her over for breakfast one day and cook something to repay her for today – though you’re not sure what you’ll make as she had far too many favourite dishes to choose from.

After the two of you have finished, Grayson walks you to Singed’s lab, insisting you can crash on her couch instead if you need. You assure her it’s a generous offer, but the pay you earn is too good to pass up, as you want to have enough money squirrelled away to keep the printing press afloat. She respects your wishes, walking you to the door. Singed is lazily strolling about his garden, picking out various herbs and flowers, waving you to head inside by yourself.

Grayson stops you just before the door, taking your hand in hers and kissing your knuckles with chapped lips. You flush a brilliant scarlet, heart thundering in your chest.

“Stay safe and out of trouble today,” she says, straightening up as you will your hand to drop slowly to your side.

Without giving yourself time to hesitate, you lean forward and plant a kiss on her cheek (desperately hoping you’re not being too brash). She blushes softly and smiles down at you, yet all you can feel is a cruel twist of betrayal in your chest. It feels… wrong – you hate how wrong it feels, how much you wish she was Sevika. There’s no denying Grayson is an attractive woman, but even a harmless flirt feels like the most heinous betrayal. Yet, that twisting green-eyed monster inside of you roars in triumph, desperate to make Sevika jealous you’re giving another woman attention. Even if it’s a terrible position to put Grayson in…

“You as well,” you whisper, pulling back and slipping inside Singed’s lab.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you pull yourself through the process of getting ready – lab coat, gloves, boots, and every piece of PPE that Singed has squirrelled away to keep anyone inside his lab safe. Singed is still outside when you’re done, so you take a moment to look around. It’s a harmless pastime that you’ve done countless times before, yet this time, there’s something new. Sitting on his work desk on top of one of your journals, as if he’d left it out for you to find, is a key. Unassuming, sterile grey, with the letter ‘O’ engraved onto the top. You contemplate it for a moment before pocketing it. If he meant it for you, what was the harm of taking the initiative? He’s never complained about you doing so before. Killing time, you glance up at the map above his work desk to find a small pin with the same ‘O’ on it – it could just be a coincidence, there are countless pins, yet all of them are engraved with a different letter. This one is stabbed straight through the science district of Piltover… it could just be a coincidence, but you’ve survived for far too long betting on fate to take it at face value. You hastily scribble down the rough location in your journal as you hear the door to the lab open.

Singed finds you standing at the ready next to the old surgery chair, where the corpse of an infected lays. He nods approvingly, stepping toward you and beginning the start of his usual morning dissection, having you take notes. He does not mention the key; neither do you.

Routine overtakes you, the key quickly forgotten in the ocean of events that happen throughout the day. Singed has enough energy to open the clinic today, and the first person you see is Ekko, who managed to get a piece of rebar through part of his arm in a freak accident at the construction site. Singed scolds Ekko to no end as Singed gives him a dosage of homemade antibiotics while you clean and dress the wound. A few people come in with broken bones, some with scratch marks, and one kid with three bee stings (she had been picking flowers near Sevika’s bee boxes). Then, Vander came in with a broken pinky that he swore wasn’t from carrying crates around the warehouse, as Singed had prescribed him to ease off the manual labour to allow a previous shoulder injury to heal. You splint Vander’s fingers while Singed lectures him so hard it makes your lecture to Sevika seem like a playground squabble.

By the end, you’re too tired to do much of anything besides sleep. The sun has already set and Singed paid you a fair amount that nearly doubled in size when Vander gave you hazard pay for the Piltover trip. So, you treat yourself and Vander to dinner at the diner, too exhausted to bother cooking – the two of you order the steak special with poutine, steamed carrots and fried mushrooms. All of which sound like absolute heaven to you.

The universe allows you ten blissful minutes of ignorance while you wait, before Vander leans forward and asks: “So, not that I don’t appreciate this, but why didn’t you take Sevika instead of me?”

You hate his ability to cut straight to the chase like a truth-seeking bloodhound. Trying to shrug it off, you say: “Do I have to do everything with her?”

“No, but that hasn’t stopped you since you got here,” Vander points out, and you scratch at your wrist underneath the cuff of Sevika’s shirt.

“We had a fight,” you mumble to the table.

“A fight? About what? It couldn’t have been that bad that you scared her off – or did she finally scare you off?” Vander presses, taking on an almost joking tone to add a light-hearted air to the conversation.

“No, I –“ you run a hand through your hair and sigh heavily – “Fuck, Vander, I shouldn’t be telling you this. It ain’t your mess to get caught up in.”

“Kid, trust me, I’ve had worse. You think I’ve never had to give romantic advice before? My daughters’ aren’t exactly the most functional or communicative people out there,” Vander chuckles, leaning back in the booth. “Come on, spill the beans.”

You scoff at the absurdity, shaking your head. A sad smile dances across your lips for a brief moment before the grief of Sevika’s friendship smothers it. “Okay, fine. She nearly got herself killed out there because she wouldn’t take a break and rest. I said some pretty presumptuous things about her working herself to the bone because she needs to prove she’s still dependable despite her injury. And that I was afraid of her dying; that I didn’t want her to die for me…”

“Oh.”

You bob your head and swallow, refusing to look him in the eyes. “She kinda stopped talking after that. I haven’t seen her since we came back this morning. I know I fucked up, I just don’t think I can handle hearing her say it.”

“Kid –“ Vander is cut off by the waitress setting your plates down in front of you. He waits for her to leave before continuing – “Kid, I’ve been with Sevika through the thick and thin of it, and I’ve tried to tell her the same damn thing a dozen times over. She’ll forgive you, and if she doesn’t, I’ll knock her upside the head until she does. In the, uh, sparing ring – don’t go around thinking we beat each other up for being headstrong. All she needs is time. She’s taken a real shine to you; she won’t just up and force you out of her life.”

“Okay, good, thanks – I don’t think I could handle losing yet another person in my life. At least not to my own stupidity. It might be best if I give her some space, though… do you know if the printing shop is done yet? I know Grayson has almost finished the press itself, but I haven’t gotten an update on the shop.”

Vander drags a hand over his face with a tired sigh: “Sevika was supposed to tell you before you left, but you – fuck we sent you on a mission without even giving you the good news. The shop is done – I’ll show you after dinner – but kid, I don’t think you should do this. This is going to send the wrong message. I know Sevika can be intense at times, but –“

“Vander, I appreciate it, really I do. It’s just… I want to stop being a burden to everyone. Maybe if I put a little space between us, it’ll hurt less the next time she goes and almost gets herself killed.”

His brow creases together, lips pursed, and a pitiful look shimmering in his eyes. He takes your hand, stilling it from almost cutting the knife through your plate.    “I won’t force you into anything; I can only give you my best advice. If you think it’s for the best, I won’t stand in your way. However, if I was in your shoes, this isn’t the path I would walk down. At least think it over tonight – if you still feel this way tomorrow, I’ll show you the shop.”

“Vander –“

“I’m serious, kid. You’re exhausted. Don’t make stupid choices tonight that you can’t take back tomorrow.”

You bite your lip – he’s right, and you hate it. Instead of admitting it, you flag the waitress down and order a drink (unfortunately, all they have is mead, which only serves to sink you lower into despair). Vander shovels steak into his mouth to keep himself from commenting, and you can’t help but appreciate the gesture. The two of you eat in silence, occasionally talking about the weather or potential books you might print. When you’re done, Vander beats you to the bill, insisting you save your money because he’s got too much of his own. The two of you have two more drinks (which you pay for) before he walks you home, letting you point out the different stars in the sky. When you reach Sevika’s step, he hugs you tightly, squeezing you just a little too hard before he lets you go inside. You hug him just a little longer than necessary, letting go several long moments after his hands loosen. He doesn’t comment; neither do you.

The house smells like booze and weed. The backdoor is open, and you can see the shadow of a figure hunched over on the step, her back to you, lit by the faint glow of a joint. For a moment, you hesitate, standing in the living room, staring at her. Your heart aches to go to her, overpowering your drunken mind to take a step forward. The floorboard creaks beneath you, and your heart begins to hammer like a jackrabbit as you freeze like a deer in headlights. Headlights that never come. She doesn’t so much as turn her head toward you; instead, the joint is lifted to her lips, and a cloud of smoke dissipates around her head.  

Shoulders sinking, you trudge up the stairs like a scolded dog. Before heading to bed, you take one last shower, knowing it’ll be your last for at least a few days until you get your living situation in order. You know Sevika’s still smoking on the porch as you curl up in bed because fifteen minutes afterwards, her footsteps echo down the hall. They stop just outside your door, your heart hammering in your chest, willing it to swing open and for her to say anything. For her to apologize or curl up in bed next to you without a word – you’d even take her shouting at you to get out; anything but this nauseous silence that hangs around the two of you like smog.

Her footsteps continue down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom.

[monayen]

Help | Michael & Robert

➷ Paring - Michael x Reader x Robert [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - neutral pronouns for reader but is AFAB, animal heats, fingering, praise, begging, teasing, unsafe sex, oral (m. receiving) / blowjobs, mention of double penetration ;-), SLIGHEST mention of dying

a/n - sorry this took so long i got very busy! hope 3.5k words of pure smut makes it up to you. also nobody told me i've been spelling Michael's name wrong this whole time. death to all of you. p.s i know that technically they are connected in terms of feeling things and stuff but for the sake of my sanity ignore that. ENJOY THE SPECIAL <3

You're about to die. You’re like… 85% sure of it. Maybe you ate something poisoned, or was incorrectly formed with an ill organ, or maybe it was just your time. A sudden unexpected time, but your time nonetheless. 

You find yourself writhing around in a corner, skin slick with sweat, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. You were lucky enough to find a secluded spot in the walls, but weren't lucky enough to find any relief. 

That’s the strangest part — you’re not in any real pain. It’s more like an overwhelming, searing heat building inside of you. 

The warmth pulses, unsettling and relentless, enough to make your clothes feel suffocating. Like you need to tear them off before they become a second skin.

The core of the warmth is formed between your clenched legs. And even though every touch feels like a striking sensation, you can't help but inch your trembling fingers underneath the fabric of your cloth shorts.

Wet — you’re so incredibly wet. Should dying feel arousing? What type of death is that? Questions are enough that you are able to shake the cloud of inevitable doom above you. This reaction is something else. Something desperate.

“Y-You feel it too?”

A too close, familiar voice startles you, causing you to immediately clamp up.

“Michael?!” You yelp, jerking your head around to face him, heart pounding wildly in your chest. In the dim light filtering through the cracks, you can make out his disheveled appearance — greasy hair, wild eyes, and a sheen of sweat on his pale skin. He's looking just as miserable as you feel.

He thankfully doesn't say anything about your previous display, instead just stepping closer to you. Your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that you’re sure he can hear it. 

"Wh-what are you doing here?" you gasp out, fixing your messed up clothes and trying in vain to compose yourself. The heat between your legs throbs insistently, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Michael's eyes are glazed over, pupils dilated, staring at you with a hunger that makes your legs clench even tighter.

The ratman shifts closer, his own body radiating a similar warmth as he drew near. “You smell so strong. S-So pretty.” He rasps, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze flicked down to your trembling figure.

Michael's hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against your arm. Even that slight touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. His skin is feverishly hot, burning with the same relentless heat that consumes you.

He leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. You can feel his breath on your skin, smell the musky scent of his arousal. It mingles with the heat between your legs, thighs clamping.

"Tell me, does it feel like... like you're burning up from the inside out?" Michael asks, voice shaking. "Does it feel like your skin is too tight, too hot, like it's going to split open and spill out?"

"Everywhere. I… I don't know what's…” you strain, hating how weak your voice sounds. You try to scoot back further against the wall, but there's nowhere to go. Michael's presence is overwhelming, his need palpable and consuming. Mixing into and pulling out yours. 

Michael lets out a sudden, bitter laugh that turns into a whimper, "I’m not good at thinking. I can… I can only think about—” He catches himself before he can finish the sentence. But with how his eyes bare into yours, he doesn't need to. “Maybe Robert knows what—” 

You cut him off, shaking your head as you lean forward in front of him, “N-No! Don't tell Robert! I can't let anyone else see me like this!” The rasp in your voice is telling, embarrassment creeping onto your red face.

“Tell me what?” 

You almost wish that you were actually dying just to escape this moment.

Robert stands in front, and with how you and Michael are low on the round, he practically looms over. Michael stammers, his words tangled,

and you can't even begin to form the question on just how you keep getting snuck up on like this.

Robert looks between you, Michael, and the charged atmosphere, his brow furrowing before he takes a step forward, taking in your disheveled appearances. The glistening sweat on flushed skin, the way you're both huddled against the wall, bodies trembling slightly, and the desperate, almost agonized expression on both your faces.

“Oh,” he murmurs, voice low, almost trying to hide the slight hesitance, “I see.” 

Michael immediately perks up at the sound, “Y-You know what's going on? Yeah?” Michael is still so close next to you.

“It’s… natural,” he says, his tone clipped, “I can smell it— sweet… heavy.” His words are curt, like he's working through something you both can't see. 

Michael looks up at him, his lips parted slightly, chest heaving with each ragged breath. "Robert... I... we..." he starts, but the noises get caught in his throat. Instead, he pushes closer to your side for support. You find yourself not minding, leaning slightly into his small frame.

Robert's eyes flick back to you. The light embarrassment spread across your face, but also the desperate, aching behind your flushed form. Attractive… inviting.

"It's alright," he finally says softly, his voice so unexpectedly soothing that it somehow manages to cut through the fog of desire clouding your mind. "You don't have to be afraid. I can help."

His hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, your skin burning at his touch. You lean into his palm instinctively, your eyes fluttering closed as the softest moan escapes your lips. 

Robert's thumb brushes over your bottom lip, tracing the shape of it, before he lowers and leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"Let me take care of you," he whispers loud enough, "Both of you."

Michael makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, his eyes wide and wild as he stares at Robert. "Together?" the blonde ratman asks with a wavering tone.

Robert turns a bit towards Michael, his hand never leaving your face. He confirms with a nod, his hand then sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your sweaty hair. 

The three of you huddle closer, and for a second you feel a bit of relief feeling Robert’s smooth leather gloves. It isn't anywhere near enough though, and it's obvious enough to both of them. 

“Lay against me, y-yeah?” Michael murmurs to you, and you feel him begin to shift from pushing against your side to your back. It’s a bit awkward with how you three are so tight in a corner, but soon you’re properly sandwiched between them.

Michael’s lap is incredibly warm. Even through the fabric of his shorts you can feel the heat of his skin radiating onto yours. Butterflies form in your stomach when you feel a hardness too.

Excitement intensely courses through you, itching and scratching at the empty feeling inside you. Enough that you don't feel embarrassed anymore about how close the two are. The heat isn't anywhere near subsiding, so you might as well welcome feeling good.

“Take off your shirts,” Robert starts, his gaze fixed onto the pair of quivering bodies in front of him. Your back more comfortably lays on Michael’s front, thighs shivering when Robert’s hand leaves your hair. “Both of you.”

Michael audibly gulps behind you, and it dawns on you that he might feel just as embarrassed as you did a moment ago. But those thoughts have already quickly faded, and without hesitation, you pull off the constricting shirt with a swift motion. The cool air brushes against your damp skin, sending a shiver through you as you instinctively press closer to Michael.

Robert looks at you approvingly, a look you didn't know you needed. His hand finds you again, but this time on the side of your thigh.

He trails up your leg slowly, up the side of your torso, stopping right before he reaches your chest. “Aren't you hot, Michael?” His pause is suffocating, boring into the ratman right behind you.

“Yea— I… I just—” Michael stumbles, breath tickling the surface of your skin. Robert’s hand presses deeper into your softness, giving a small squeeze to the flesh around your ribs. “It's alright to be nervous, but you wanted me to help,” another squeeze, “didn't you?” 

His hand moves more up now, and you can't help the sound that escapes you when his thumb trails over your hard nipples. Michael noticeably tenses up, the insistent poking at your ass telling you enough.

“C’mon,” you half whisper-groan, pushing up more onto him as you grind ever so slightly. He responds how you hoped, with his own slight buck of his hips and shaky breath. It doesn't take long for him to messily loosen his red tie and lift his shirt over his head.

“Good.” Robert praises, thumb circling around the sensitive peak before pinching you lightly. Michael responds even better to those words, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Pure warmth radiates off his bare torso, chest rising and falling.

Robert then leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt on your skin, before he sucks hard, determined to leave a mark. Michael is eager to mirror his actions, lips and teeth and tongue immediately lapping at the opposite side.

You're lost in a haze, head falling back against Michael's shoulder as you push your chest further into Robert's touch. Your heat is growing more insistent, and even though finding a bit of relief with grinding your hips, you only seem to want more.

As if reading your mind, Robert's free hand slides down your stomach, fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

"Fuck," you hear yourself whimper, voice raw and desperate. "Please, I need..." You trail off, unable to put into words just how badly you need this. But Robert understands, Michael understands, and they’re egear enough to provide.

Michael's hand joins Robert's at your waistband, both of them sliding your shorts and underwear down your trembling legs. Michael's fingers brush against your inner thighs, inching ever closer between.

"We’ve got you," Robert murmurs against your skin, quicker to bite off the glove from his hand and press fingers onto your slick sex. "Just relax.”

His fingers find your clit, circling the sensitive nub with a feather-light touch. Michael's fingers grip your thighs tighter, holding you open and exposed as Robert starts to rub, his fingers slick with your arousal. Your hips roll into his touch, chasing the pleasure that's been building since you woke up.

Michael’s so close, breath hot against your ear. "You're so pretty," he rasps, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. “K-Keep moving like that!”

You can only whimper in response, too lost in the sensation of Robert's fingers beginning to pump in and out of your dripping cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit. 

Robert’s teeth graze your neck, and you gasp slightly when he quickly tilts and presses his lips onto yours. You practically melt, feeling how his tongue delves into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers and moans. 

Breaking the kiss, Robert completely pulls away, only to be replaced by Michael's eager fingers. You whine a bit, but the blonde ratman’s fingers so quickly curl inside you that it immediately turns into a keen.

An unzip is heard in front of you, seeing that Robert is now standing with himself freed. His dick springs up, the flushed head already glistening as he strokes himself slowly. Your mouth runs dry, and you can only look up with big eyes as he stands closer, crotch leveled with your face.

Michael can see this too, considering that Robert’s length is only a bit closer to your face rather than his. His breath comes in short, and you can feel him insistently rut against the curve of your ass even more desperately. 

“I can’t— I can’t wait anymore. Please, please.” He’s crying, begging. It throws you for a second — why would he beg you when you’d clearly let him do anything he wants, just to keep feeling this good? Then it clicks… he’s not begging for you. He’s begging for Robert.

The ratman above you lets out a small, pleased huff. His small eye is looking past you, directed to the trembling one behind you. “Help me first.” He says, positioning his length in front of your mouth, “Put it in their mouth, guide — ah, guide their head for me.” 

Michael swallows hard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he nods eagerly at Robert's command. "Y-Yes, yeah.” the ratman stammers, his voice thick with desperation. He slides his hands up from your hips, gripping your shoulders tightly as he begins to steady you.

You feel your cheeks flush even hotter as Michael's fingers then move to tangle in your hair, slowly but firmly pushing your face towards Robert's waiting length. The proximity making your head spin with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

"Open," Robert instructs, his voice low compared to his usual leveled tone. His cockhead brushes against your bottom lip, smearing the bead of precum that's formed at the tip.

Michael's grip on your hair tightens, and with a needy stare, he starts to push your head forward, guiding you to take Robert's length into your mouth. Your lips part instinctively, and you feel the thick fever of Robert's cock sliding over your tongue, filling your mouth inch by inch.

"G-Good job," he grunts. Whether it's to you or Michael, it doesn't matter, both of you respond equally with a ragged moan. 

Michael refuses to blink his lidded eyes, his grip on your head never wavering as he continues to press you forward, helping Robert to slide deeper and deeper down your throat until you reach the soft skin of his pelvis.

Robert doesn't try to hold onto you, letting Michael be the one to set you in place as he starts to shallowly thrust into your mouth, not quite fucking your face, but grinding his hips against you in and out. "Taking me so well," he praises with each inch.

A whine from Michael catches attention, “Ahh, need to be inside!” You hadn’t realized just how tightly he was holding you, as if you'd ever leave his lap. 

"Please," Michael whines again, too far gone to care how pathetic he sounds to continue begging. 

Robert groans, slowing his thrusts to let his words come out properly, “Don't worry, I didn't forget about you.” An almost teasing tone coats his words, as if drinking in the scene of you two eager and completely undone for attention. 

He tells you to lift your hips, enough to give Michael the space to tug down his shorts and free his aching length. Robert’s dick never leaves your throat, leaving you to only muffle against the shaft once the ratman behind you freed himself.

It pressed right between your spread legs, and if Robert’s dick was slick when he unzipped his pants, Michael’s was practically wet. The constant grinding had done a number, and if he wasn't so hard you’d probably believe he had came ages ago. 

“Go on, you've been patient.” Robert coos, drawing Michael closer to your wet entrance. He replies with something more of a whine, hands holding the underside of your thighs to prop you up. He isn't anywhere near as strong typically, but his own heat gives him the energy to practically fold you in his lap. 

As soon as you're in a position he wants, Michael wastes no time in pressing inside you with a guttural moan, body yielding to his desperate need. He immediately starts thrusting hard and fast, chasing the pleasure he’s been craving for as soon as he smelt you. 

Michael stretches you out, hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust as he takes you with abandon. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he chases his high. 

Robert sets a matching pace, fucking your face in time with Michael's frantic thrusts. Drool runs down your chin as he hilts himself over and over, stifling your moans.

“There you go," he grunts to Michael, one hand fisting atop your head, holding you as he uses your mouth. “Feels good?”

Michael just moans brokenly in response, too focused on the tight, wet heat enveloping his aching cock. He angles your hips, trying to get as deep as possible with each thrust. "S'good... s'fucking good..." he babbles, completely lost in pleasure.

His cock pistons in and out of your drenched cunt, the wet squelches of your coupling filling the room along with your muffled gags and Robert's grunts. 

Your mind spins, and you realized you haven't taken a proper breath since Robert’s began to fuck your throat. It doesn't matter, you're sure you could stay like this forever if it meant they’d keep fucking you. You can only hold onto the sides of Robert’s pelvis and take the slightest of gasps when he isn't completely blocking your airways. 

"Tight, so— so warm.” Michael keens again, his voice strained with pleasure. He rants, praises filling the air as he moans about how good you feel around his aching cock. You swear you see Robert smirk from above you, a rub on the back of your head as you greedily suck on his length. 

He's never been the softest person, always a bit blunt and straightforward, but the feverish slide of his cock in and out of your mouth is beyond how Robert would seem. His pace is becoming more erratic, a clench of his thighs telling you that he's been holding back for a while. Simply determined to make sure you map out every inch of his length with your willing tongue. 

Michael is an absolute mess. He's going so fast you can't even properly think anymore, the only focus being how desperate you are for him to fuck you. It’s almost primal — every part of you screaming to arch your back more and take them deeper. 

The knot that settles in your abdomen is becoming tighter and tighter, your body shaking between the two. You can feel both of them twitch together, heavy panting above and behind you as they approach the edge. 

Michael lets out a string of garbled pleas and curses, his grip tightening to the point of bruising as he slams into you with wild abandon. 

"Nngh, fuck! I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." His words dissolve into a high moan as he hilts inside you one last time, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he desperately finds his release.

Robert is close behind, finally relaxing his tensing body as he watches Michael come inside you. With one final, pulsing thrust, he buries himself balls-deep in your mouth and lets out his own low groan. 

Hot, thick ropes of cum paint your insides as your own orgasm crashes. Michael writhes, grinding against you and drawing out his pleasure as he continues to pump inside you. 

You can't even moan properly, your mouth flooded with the release of Robert as he empties himself down your throat, pushing you to swallow every last drop. 

Both men hold you in place, panting and trembling as you all come down from your intense highs.

Michael is the first to move, slumping back against the wall and taking you with him. Robert remains standing, his softening cock slipping from your well-used mouth with a gush of leftover cum and saliva. 

For a moment, there is only the sound of ragged breathing and the occasional aftershock that makes Michael twitch inside you, his length still nestled snugly in your wet heat. 

“We s-should clean up.” Robert starts, moving to fix his pants. Michael immediately interrupts, his voice raising as he grips you. “Wait,”

He trails his hands over your sweat slick skin, reaching your legs and spreading them. 

Robert halts, taking in the display of Michael’s length still pressed fully inside of you. “Do you think— hah, they can take us b-both?” 

His gaze lingers, his small eye flickering between the entrance and your half-lidded eyes. He hesitates, waiting for a sign before daring to move closer, all in an attempt to remain composed.

But you can see right through him. The rise and fall of his chest, the weight of his breath as he measures if you are willing.

And fuck — you are. The sore sensation on your just body hasn’t registered yet, a slightest grind of your hips making Michael’s breath hitch. More.

You nod frantically, your breath hitching as clammy hands clutch at your flesh, digging impatiently. “L-Look, they're— we're waiting.” Michael thrusts shallowly, and you watch as Robert’s dick becomes half-hard just at the sight. 

Robert lets out a low curse, jaw clenching as he lowers down to his knees.

“Fuck. Spread wider for me.”

[kindlythevoid]

(FotR, pg. 42)

(FotR, pg. 74)

Guys Guys Guys Guys I know I know I KNOW we talk about Frodo and Sam's bond. Which is valid. Totally valid, I do it myself on occasion.

BUT.

BUT.

FRODO AND MERRY!!!!

FRODO PROBABLY GREW UP WITH MERRY!!! (I did the math cuz I'm a nerd) Merry was 7 when Frodo left to go live with Bilbo, but Frodo spent 9 years in Buckland!! He was there when Merry was born!! Merry hasn't known life without Frodo!!! Yes, Frodo was 21 when he left but he was in his "tweens" and probably still had to hang out with the younger kids aka MERRY!!!

Just. Look at them!! Frodo was a Respectable Gentlehobbit and Merry was one of those weird Brandybucks but they were both Adults and Frodo trusted Merry to find him a suitable house that he would supposedly retire in and Frodo didn't know that Merry knew that Frodo was leaving!! He just trusted Merry to get all the accounts settled and to find him a cute little house and he does!!! Merry does!!! He helps him find a house, he goes with the furniture to set it all up for Frodo when he gets there!! He even helps monitor everything that's being given away after Bilbo leaves and Frodo needs a moment!!

It's just. We're not even 100 pages in, they haven't left the Shire, but it's so blindingly obvious that Frodo trusts Merry and Merry looks out for Frodo, even though there's a 14 year age gap between them. They're friends, best friends, look at that first bit I put up there, they're joking around after Lobelia insulted Frodo and it's so natural, such a great little moment.

It's so. It's so obvious, right from the very beginning, like, of course Merry follows Frodo out of the Shire. It's not because Frodo's All That or anything, it's just that they're best friends and Merry cares for him and he wants to make sure he'll be alright. And I love that about Merry, I think it's a great character trait of his that you see again with Pippin. He loves them, so he follows them, even and especially into the unknown, but when it's their time to leave, to move on, he let's them. He keeps on loving them and trusting them, except this time it's trusting that they'll come back. And hoping that letting them know that they are loved will help them return.

[senshi-9]

Hey, I remember sending asks to this blog years ago, and while searching for another artist, I found yours again. I don't look back fondly on that time in my life when I sent those asks but I remember liking a lot of the art you made. Thanks for that. All the best, Anon

Hey, Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. Sorry for the late reply. I've been in a bit of a block for a while, but I'm slowly working through it. I hope this reply finds you well and that you're at a better spot in your life now.

[psychoticallytrans]

Here is a skill that many of us are going to need for survival: how to tell if someone is offering to let you lie.

The tip-off phrase is "If [circumstance] was true, then we/I could do [helpful thing.]" This is not a guarantee that the person is offering, but it should tell you "I am being informed of a way to improve things."

Your confirmation phrase is "What documentation would that require?" This is essentially asking them "If people come asking me to prove this, will I be able to? Or will they not come at all?"

The answer you are hoping for with the confirmation phrase is "Just tell me if it's true, and I'll put it on the form." Note that this is not a direct instruction to lie, because they can't tell you that.

If they didn't mean to extend an offer to lie or this is a situation where they can't, then they'll list off something like your paystubs or your birth certificate. Your response back in that case is "Thanks, I'll tell my friends who qualify." This clears you of any concerns that you may have been considering lying.

The more complex answer is when they answer by giving you a form on the spot. Your job, in this case, is to scan the form and see if what they are asking you can be meaningfully verified by an official source.

Things that can be verified by an official source include, but are not limited to, your age, legal sex, income, veteran status, and place of residence. It's not generally a good idea to lie about these on official documents.

Be smart, and be practical. Do what you need to in order to stay alive, and keep an ear out for the people offering to help you do so.

[lonely-ey3s]

i know this is meant to be pero tovar however i also see this being knight!joel miller and it has me thinkin' of this little dribble drabble:

imagine him being part of your guardsmen since coming back from the war. he would follow you all day, keeping you safe and out of harm's way. he would gently warn you by calling you 'dearest princess' or 'sweet girl' when something seemed off. only he could call you those names, anyone else calling you dear or sweet- it tasted sour. but not him. he made it sweet like honey. imagine him being only a few years older than you, in fact as children you grew up somewhat close together, your father's were friends but still in a different social class. but after he was sent to fight in your father's war, you didn't see him for almost 10 years, he went away a boy and came back a man. imagine that you'd catch him stealing glances at you when you'd smile brightly or laugh at some gentleman's poor attempt at courting you. you'd relish in knowing his eyes were on you. you loved the thought that he wanted to be that man courting you, but oaths don't allow him to do both, love you and protect you in the highest rank which you knew he held in high regard. imagine if he could, he'd bring you flowers from the gardens and read you sonnets of poetry while he worshipped your body under his. pulling sweet prayers of pleasure from your lips as he held you against the bed and his hips rocked his cock slowly and passionately into your weeping core. imagine him constantly losing his train of thought whenever he'd get close enough to you that he'd smell your sweet perfume, stumbling over his words, and slightly turning red in his cheeks as you'd look up at him with those big beautiful eyes of yours. imagine that when you were coming in or out of a carriage or up or down from a high step - he'd hold your hand, to help you balance. he'd always remove his glove so he could sneak the feeling of your warmth in his hand, even if it was just for a few moments. that was enough for him. imagine that you'd make him smile or sometimes quietly chuckle by whispering jokes or not very 'princess-like' comments to him when you'd have him by you in court as your escort. imagine that when any man spoke to you disrespectfully or talked down to you he'd clear his throat behind you and pull his sword inches out of his sheath as a word of warning, glaring at them with eyes full of absolute violence to protect and respect you. it also helped he had a reputation that was more than enough to keep unwanted advances with you around him at bay.

imagine him standing in front of you in your chambers one evening as you asked him his opinion on a political matter. you only felt safe with him to share your true feelings and opinions. to everyone else, you're a woman, and your opinion was thrown out, even though you're the heir to the throne. to him, you hung the moon and stars, to him, your thoughts were the most important thing he could ever hear. imagine as you're rambling on about taxing the farmers and how it shouldn't be that way, how your father should be taxing the more wealthy to make up the deficit when you catch him looking at your lips briefly, making your breath hitch when you find yourself looking at his. imagine him realizing what he had just done as you stopped talking and he snaps out of his trance. he begins profusely apologizing for his disrespect, bowing his head to you, shyly not wanting to look you in the eye, if he looked you in the eye, he feared he wouldn't be able to hold back. he was a weak man when it came to you. imagine you place your hand on his cheek gently and command his eyes to yours, to which he snapped his head up to obey, only for you to command him to kiss you before he could say anything further. imagine him breathlessly touching your cheek with his gloved hand, swallowing nervously then whispering inches away from your lips, "If I am to kiss you, I'm afraid I'd never be able to stop, my sweet princess" imagine you smiling, whispering back "Glad we're on the same page my knight..." and leaning in the rest of the way, capturing his lips in yours, kissing him gently once before he pulled back for a fraction of a second, to whisper, "May the gods forgive me..." then devouring your lips with his, pulling you against his body thick with armor.

Hey Pero !

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Warning ! ⚠️I used ia to illustrate my imagine. I don't use it for artistic purposes. So please don't yell at me. I respect artists who work very hard for their art.And I don't want to offend or hurt any actor. I'm doing it for fictional characters. I'm also doing it for fun, so no messing about.

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XO - Cassiopeia-grimm

[scorpiontattoo]

sorry just sitting here realizing how actually fucked it is that our mom has spent years of our life purposefully making sure we wouldn't know how to exist without the help of another human being. like we are having to fight with her about learning how to cook for ourself, about us being able to have friends that she hasn't vetted, about simply being able to go to the store alone and shop for ourselves, about us having access to our own medical information and handling our own medical decisions, etc.

and like... just. looks at my hands. I'm so fucking scared we'll never be able to be an independent person. I'm so scared we'll never be able to exist on our own. we grew up having other people call us spoiled and lazy for not being allowed to care for ourself, our own mother does it and then turns around and continues forcing us to be dependent, but is it really being spoiled if its an abuser trying to keep control? if it leads to neglect and harm? I'll agree it's some degree of privilege, I guess, but it's still just so...

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[pinkfemgurl]

You groaned to yourself after reading that text message. This meant you had to go about your day caged and with her pink satin panties on under your clothes.

But naïve and hopeful enough to finally get unlocked, you sent pictures of yourself every hour on the dot showing off your entire body caged with the her panties on. Sometimes she asked for your face to be in it just to tease you and other times she would ask for different poses.

You check the clock and notice that she should have been home 20 minutes ago. Surely she's just stuck in traffic right?

Three more hours go by and you've been restlessly pacing at the front door waiting for her to get home. She wouldn't reply to any of your texts except either to make you do a new pose or to reply to the picture you sent her every hour.

You swing your head towards the front door the moment you hear it open and see your girlfriend smiling while holding a few bags in her hands. "Sorry honey, I had to stop by the mall to get a few things on the way back home. I hope I didn't make you wait too long?~" She teases you, knowing you were in agony the entire time.

You rush up to her no longer caring about how long you waited because now you can get unlocked and finally be able to cum again.

"Hold on honey, before I unlock you can you do something else for me? I know I've made you do something embarrassing but it just made me so wet at work all day that I couldn't get anything done!" You don't notice the malice in her words as you nod your head to this unknown task.

"Here, I want you to put this on to match your panties, I spent so long to find something that would look perfect on you!"

She hands you a bag as you take out the clothing to put on. You see that its a matching pink bra and a pink long sleeve tutu style dress, all in the same shade of pink as the panties that she made you wear all day.

You can't wear such a thing! You tell her.

But she changes your mind soon after, "I want to be fucked so badly while you wear all this babe! I'll tease you like I did last night, but only for a few minutes," she reassures you with a lie, "and then I'll unlock the cage and let you pound me until you've released your entire load in all of my holes!~ Seeing you in my panties all day made so unimaginably horny this would just make me go over the top! I'm sure that would make up for the entire day and a half of being unable to cum right?~" She gives you a pouty look, knowing she put you through pleasurable torture, you normally cum at least once everyday so not being able to has made your brain fuzzy this entire time.

You finally relent and change into the entire outfit, your girlfriend helping you put on everything the entire time. After hearing that you will be able to fuck her relentlessly you've gotten so horny that you begin leaking into the pink panties again.

She lead you to the bedroom and tied you up on the bed once again. This time it was a little different, instead of just having your arms tied behind your back and your ankles tied together, she went the extra step and began tying every inch of your body in a way that seemed to accentuate the pink outfit and the cage.

"There we go! All done! And I just got to say wow. I can't believe you actually let me do all of this to you!" She says cheerfully while looking at you hungrily.

Click

She snaps a picture of you all tied up, “Who would have thought that it would be this easy to feminize you this far so quickly?! I guess my friends were right when they said that the hardest thing was to get you in a chastity cage but then the rest would be easy!” She laughs to herself. "I mean getting you caged wasn't even that hard either."

She pats your pink caged clitty and no longer needing to hide her true intentions behind an innocent face, she can't stop smiling at your predicament.

"You know babe... I didn't just buy these clothes, I'm sure you saw the dozen other bags I brought home right? Those will be your new clothes! I made sure to only shop in the lingerie sections and sex stores of the countless malls I stopped by after work to give you an even higher quality of clothes compared to my own wardrobe!" She says proudly.

Suddenly she moves close to your ear and in a low but demanding voice whispers, "And if you ever... want a chance of getting out of that cage, you'll have to do everything I say from now on, or I'm going to send these dozens of photos of you in my panties as well as you all tied up like this to your friends and family through your own phone! I'm sure you especially remember the photos with your face in them! Wouldn't that be such a relationship crusher? She teases.

"Now be a good sissy doll and let me see you leak into your pathetic little clitty in this new outfit! I want to record every new milestone you achieve in this new relationship we'll be sharing together honey~"

Hope you enjoyed this super long story made by @pinkfemgurl!

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Harvest Moon

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday and you're going to make sure he has a good one. Warnings: smut, fluff, dancing in the kitchen to neil young, unprotected p in v, public-ish sex (but under a blanket), talking to neighbors while sitting on joel miller's cock, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), fingering, riding, joel has a filthy mouth, no use of y/n, not beta read.

A/N: I spent most of tonight adding 2,500 words to this barely written piece. Now it's two hours past my bedtime, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!!! This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but, this is yet another singular smut entry for my Elks babies. This was originally going to be posted as a birthday celebration chapter for that, but I really wanted to give Joel his gift on his actual birthday. Happy birthday you gorgeous old man, you. Hope you like the porn I wrote about you. ❤️🥴

Masterlist

🌕🌕🌕🌕

You’ve been looking for the CD since you learned of Joel’s love of the song. Tommy did it, he actually did it. Somehow by some miracle he found the CD. 

“Not a problem,” he gives you that same shy Miller lopsided grin. “Milt had it. Told me to tell you it’s yours to keep… said he owes you since you were his daughter’s favorite teacher ‘n all.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you say, barely being able to contain your excitement, “this is going to be amazing.”

“Of course. Should be thanking you really,” he shrugs. “It’s about time he had a good birthday.”

—

Joel said he’d be helping fix one of the greenhouses today, but you’re still scared to ruin the surprise as you unlock his door. 

“Joel?” you yell out into the quiet, seemingly empty house. 

No answer. Perfect.

Quick steps lead you to his CD player, the same one he first showed you how much he cared for you with. Now, it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. The disc tray opens and you place the CD into the system, you can’t wait to surprise him. 

—

“More coffee?” you ask, holding up the percolator.

He nods and smiles, happily sitting at the table full from the steak, potatoes, and cornbread you made him. He had insisted on sharing the meat, but you refused, happy to let him enjoy the first taste of steak in over twenty years.

Your friend Helen got her boyfriend Greg to cut a small filet of steak from the newly butchered cow. She handed it to you with a knowing smile. It’s nice to see everyone accept yours and Joel’s relationship. 

You lean over his lap, and top his coffee cup off. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in a dress? Can’t believe you got yourself all dolled up for me.” He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap. 

“Careful!” you shriek, quickly placing the carafe on the table. “Yes, you have… many times. That's why I wore it.”

“Hmph,” he hums happily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you for dinner–and everything sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin. 

“That’s not all,” you giggle as he nips at a sensitive spot under your chin. 

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re so good to me.” 

You clutch his chin tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “You deserve a happy birthday.” His big brown eyes search yours, like he’s forcing himself to believe it. “Joel, you do.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he sighs warmly.

“I love you too. Now, I have something else for you,” you slip off his lap and head towards your backpack. “It’s something small, I promise.”

You return with a bundle of fabric held behind your back. 

“Remember when you tore your favorite flannel and you tossed it in the rag bag?”

You place the flannel in his hands.

“Well, a certain girl named Ellie grabbed it for me. I mended it, reinforced the buttons, and sewed up a couple holes. It’s not perfect, but it’s fixed.”

He holds the flannel up and inspects it. “This is–wow–this–I can’t believe it.” He looks up at you, his eyes wide with adoration. “I was wearing this that first day I saw you, y’know? This is so sweet sweetheart, thank you.” 

He likes it, you thank your lucky stars. Your handsome Joel, here with you on his birthday, allowing himself to be taken care of. 

You know the story of his birthday, you’ve retold the tale to yourself every night as you anticipated this day. Afraid to upset him, afraid to cross a line, but all you’ve wanted to do is give him the world he so deserves. 

It wasn’t just you who thought of him today. It’s Tommy finding the CD. It’s Helen getting you the steak. It’s Ellie grabbing the flannel from the rag bag. He deserves all of it. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “Now, put it on. I have one more surprise.”

He slips the flannel on as you head to the living room. The CD waits in the stereo. You turn it on.

The soft guitar and brushes of a drum fills the air as you turn the volume up.  

Joel’s huge smile greets you when you walk back into the kitchen.

“You– how?” he asks, unbelieving. 

“Asked Tommy and he found it for me. Milt had his greatest hits. Now,” you reach your hand out to him, “may I have this dance birthday boy?”

He chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you into him. The two of you sway along to the music, his strong arms enveloping you as your cheek rests against his warm chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Your hands slip around his broad back, one of them trailing up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He sighs deeply before placing a tender kiss against the top of your head. 

“This is my favorite song,” he murmurs.

The sun has long since set, the singular lamp above the sink casts a warm dark amber glow across the kitchen Your shadows dance across the walls as you sway. He smells of coffee and sweet corn bread, like home and comfort. 

He starts to hum then softly sing along. His deep voice reverberates through your ear, pressed against his heart. 

“Because I’m still in love with you,  I wanna see you dance again,  Because I’m still in love with you,  On this harvest moon”

You can hear the contentment in his voice as he holds you closer. Moving in synchronicity with each other, gently stepping across the small kitchen as the harmonica solo plays. If you could stay in this moment forever you would.

You tilt your head up, and his eyes meet yours. The smile he gives lights his face. Lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes, dimple sitting deep on his cheek, mustache curving with his plush upturned lips. He serenades you with the same lyrics as before, looking deep in your eyes. 

“Because I’m still in love with you,  I wanna see you dance again,  Because I’m still in love with you,  On this harvest moon”  

His lips meet yours, thanking you with a gentle kiss. The man you love and adore, feels good on his birthday all because of you. 

The song plays on repeat, the two of you dance together, Joel gently hums and sings along as the harvest moon rises above the mountains. 

You gently pull away, unclasping his arms from around you.

“Come on birthday boy,” you say with a playful smile, “let’s go watch the stars.” 

—

You and Joel sit beneath a large plaid comforter on his porch. The early fall breeze that rolls down the mountainside leaves a chill in the air. The night sky is lit bright with the orange full moon. Most of Jackson is at the Harvest Moon Festival tonight, you can just make out the distant sounds of laughter and music flowing through the air from the main street on his porch. Ellie was especially thrilled about the teen sleepover happening at the Bison tonight, giving you both this rare moment of solitude in his backyard. She told Joel she knew he was in good hands with you for his birthday. 

And he is–or at least you’re in his good hands. 

“Oh, god,” you softly whisper into the night, you’re so tense from keeping yourself quiet. The stars are a little harder to see tonight thanks to the ambient glow of the bright moon, and yet you see stars whenever you squeeze your eyes shut while fighting the urge to moan. Joel’s deft, large thumb rubs circles against your clit while you ride two of his thick fingers. 

He’s driving you crazy like this. His large body and the blanket wrapped around you, overheating all of your senses in this chilly night. You’re completely covered, nobody would know that your legs are spread wide, one draped over his thick thigh while his hand is stuffed up your dress making you quake as he finger fucks you.

“Easy now, easy now,” he says nuzzling against your neck, his large nose charting a course across the sensitive skin. “Gotta remember where we are. You're the sweet, innocent teacher 'n librarian here. Lotta people look up to you, can’t have them knowin’ what my girl really likes when she’s with me.” Your hips slow their movement, he makes up for it by pumping you harder. “See, I can help, just gotta let me know you want it baby.” 

“Want to take–neyugh–care of you,” struggles out of your mouth. 

“You’re taking care of me right now, sweetheart, touching you is my favorite thing to do.” 

“Want to go inside… w-want to–want–to, want to feel you in my mouth,” you grip the straining bulge underneath the fly of his jeans. 

“Not yet,” he sighs deeply when you squeeze harder. “Like seeing your skin glow in the moonlight. What you’re doin’ now is enough, want to enjoy my night with you.”

Your hold tightens around his cock as you fight harder to suppress the urge to scream into the night. His fingers angle up hitting your most sensitive spot and you feel like you could explode. You’ll be the fireworks to celebrate Joel’s birthday. A whimper is fought by biting your lip, it’s so hard to not scream. His brown eyes look almost black in the low light as he watches you struggle and blink rapidly. 

“Shh baby, you’re doing so good, bein’ so quiet, don’t ruin it now. If anybody was out right now they could walk right on by and they’d have no idea what I’m doing to you under here.”

You’ve never done anything like this, so out in the open. Jackson is a peaceful town full of law abiding citizens, and right now you’re sitting on the back of the porch of Joel’s house getting felt up by him. 

“Joel… I–I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me baby.” His hot breath hits your lips before sealing his mouth against yours. Your cunt spasms against his thick fingers, you feel set alight by your orgasm, overheated and burning. Maybe you’re glowing just as bright as the moon. His tongue dances with yours, swallowing all of your gasps and cries. You’re sure at this point, anybody that walked by would know exactly what was happening between the two of you. You don’t care, all you want is to feel Joel’s cock inside you.

“Want you, Joel, want you so bad,” you mew as his fingers rub against your sensitive folds. 

“Okay baby, okay.” His fingers slip from your warmth before he brings his soaked digits to his lips. His eyes flutter shut when he tastes you. 

“Sweeter than birthday cake,” he declares before raising his hips and pulling his jeans down with a grunt. “Come here. Come sit on me.”

Your legs spread wide as you straddle his large lap with your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. He grips himself and moves the half hard heft of his cock against your soaked core, swirling his tip back and forth across your clit. 

“Tell me you want my cock,” he whispers against your neck, licking a line up to your ear. “Tell me baby.”

“I-I want your cock–I need your cock Joel,” you beg. 

“I know you do darling,” he chuckles deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.

The sounds of the festival go silent and the bright orange moon fades as you slowly sink down on his cock. Taking all of him, thick and throbbing into your tight cunt. 

“That’s my good girl,” he grits. “Your sweet pussy is taking me so well, isn’t she?”

Clutching your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, you try to fight the moan his words bring up.

“Oh, you must like that. You’re squeezin’ me so hard sweetheart.” 

You set a pace, riding him gently under the moonlight, his fingers gripping your hips tight. 

His hot breaths hit the back of your neck as your back molds even tighter to his front. His hand snakes down to rub your clit, small circles making your body meld even more against him.. The rhythm of his fingers and cock spearing you pulls another orgasm down from the ethers of space. Shivering, sweating, and stuttering Joel’s name, you’re trying to be good for him, trying to not scream into the night. 

“That’s my girl, grippin’ my cock so good, cummin’ all over me. Getting yourself nice and slippery so I can fuck you real good, huh?” 

“Mmf,” is the only response you can muster. Your cunt flutters around him, and he doesn’t relent, slowly fucking into you while his finger pulses against your clit. 

The sound of two people conversing approaches. Your movements come to a halt, Joel stays still, his finger still resting against your sensitive bundle of nerves and his cock sitting deep inside you. Hank and Billie, the nice couple that lives three houses down from Joel, walk past the porch. Both look over and wave a greeting. Fuck.

“Beautiful moon, isn’t it?” Hank says with a smile. 

“Quite.” Joel responds. The rumble of his loud voice radiates through you.  

“You guys get any barbecue tonight?” Hank asks. “It was really go–”

“We stayed in,” Joel gruffly responds. He subtly knocks his hips into you causing a wave of sensation to hit against your already cock-drunk pussy.

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale.  

“Oh, well, there will probably be leftovers tomorrow,” Billie offers. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you the good stuff.”

“Thanks Billie,” you breathlessly reply, wishing on every star you’ve seen behind your eyelids, they’ll leave. “We appreciate it.”

“Best be getting home,” Hank says, grabbing Billie’s hand. “We both had a bit too much to drink!” 

Oh thank god.

“Enjoy your night,” Joel says plainly as he starts to slowly rock into you once they turn away. 

To the eyes of your neighbors, you and Joel just look like a normal couple enjoying the night sky cuddled together under a blanket… little do they know he’s filling you with his thick cock under the shield. 

“That was close,” he whispers against your ear before nipping it. 

Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he fucks into you harder. 

“Guess we shouldn’t take our time, don’t want to get caught, now do we?” he asks. 

“We can just–nyuh–go inside,” you plead, wanting to be able to moan and scream Joel’s name in the comfort of his home. 

“Gimme one more baby, gimme one more,” he grunts against your neck. “And then I’ll take you into my home and fuck you.”

His hips pound against your body, his thrusts bucking into your core harder. “That’s it baby, you really want me to take you in and lay you down ‘n fuck you, don’t you?” 

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your stomach tightening and thighs trembling as the universe splinters around you. Your orgasm rockets through your body. Color turns to black and white, noise falls silent. All that exists is Joel Miller and his big cock shattering you into a million pieces like your own personal big bang on the back of his porch. 

“Good girl,” he groans, “let’s take this party inside.”

—

The plaid comforter is laid out on the kitchen floor. Your wobbly legs move your still blissed-out body to Joel’s stereo, starting “Harvest Moon” on repeat all over again. 

You lean against the kitchen entrance, admiring Joel as he rests atop the blanket, naked and supporting himself on his elbows. No man over fifty should ever look as good as him. Broad shoulders frame his strong arms, his chest has a smattering of dark hair that trails down to the slight bulge of his stomach. His cock rests in between his legs, still hard and shining with your slick. He’s so gorgeous, and he’s all yours. 

“Come here sweetheart,” his voice is gruffer. “Lay down next to me.”

His dick twitches as you walk to the blanket and settle beside him. 

He moves over you, covering you with his warmth as he engulfs himself in your slick heat. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing him to take more. 

“Joel,” you moan. The angle allows his cock to push farther in and your walls to tighten harder against him. 

“Ooh, you’re so fucking wet, you hear that?” he asks incredulously. The squelch of your pussy soundtracks along to the song quietly playing in the background. “Sounds so fucking good baby.” 

He gasps when buries himself to the hilt, soaking the curly hairs around the base of him with your wet.

Your body trembles as your hips meet his, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace. 

He takes no time to own you now behind the walls of his home. Your hands clutch at his wide back, sobs and screams of his name echoing out into the air as Neil Young softly sings in the background. 

You’re so full of him. His body surrounding you, his lips against yours, his cock pounding into your accepting cunt, his name chanting out of your mouth. 

“You want it baby?” he growls against your neck, his cock pumping in and out of your hole at a speed no man over fifty should be able to ever reach. “You want my cum?” 

“C-cum Joel,” you cry, tears sprouting from your eyes as your fourth orgasm launches through you. 

He gasps your name, pulling out of your tremorous pussy and shooting thick white ropes of cum across your pussy and stomach. 

His sweat is slick against your overheated body, you’re a mess of sweat, orgasm, and love. 

He kisses you, his tongue licking against yours before he rolls off you. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Fuck,” he pants, stretching his limbs out. “Gonna feel this tomorrow.” 

“Well, you are another year older, old man,” you tease, curling up next to him. 

“Yeah,” he turns his head to look at you. “I guess I am,” he sighs. “Thank you for–my birthday and–all of this. I can never put into words how much it all means to me.” 

“So I guess you’re still in love with me?” you tease.

“Always. Especially on this harvest moon,” he returns your smile. 

---

Tagging a couple people who had asked about this piece earlier this month: @almostfoxglove, @sawymredfox, @burntheedges, and @littlemisspascal 🩷🌝