#Especially if you also happen to be packing

[angelart67]

OK... So I don't have Instagram, which is probably because it is META owned & if I gave up my FakeBook, it makes no sense why I would just jump to another platform owned by the same entity... YES, I DO KNOW THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS... Only wrote it cause this makes me wish I could ONLY SEE the stuff that is WORTH IT on those platforms... LIKE THIS... Soooooo, that said, THANK GOD, you posted this on Tumblr as well... TY TY TY TY TY

MANY more ppl need to see n read this. BECAUSE, whatever rights or options or do-overs you think you have due you, this fact is MEDICALLY PROVEN...

Abortion STOPS A BEATING 💓🙏💔😇PLEASE don't murder God's Miracles...

OH WAIT... Before someone out there goes off on me because they just ASSume I have no stake in this, don't know what I'm talking about, or think I'm trying to kidnap their uterus... LISTEN UP... PLEASE, & I am NOT calling anyone out of their name, so let's see if we can possibly just stay on track with facts, for once, & not behave like bullies...

I do TY in advance for that...

I gave birth to 4 children, 2 were full term, 1 was "overbaked" family funny there, & 1 was extremely premature (especially for it being the 80's when they knew far less about premature infants) I also have suffered thru multiple miscarriages, & yep BIG DIFF between that happening to a woman & calling for an appt to end things on purpose... Every miscarriage I went thru made ME feel the same way I'd have felt, had I lost any of my living children (like stillbirth), they were ALL DEVASTATING LOSSES... Of my 4 who were born & lived, they are on this earth because my mama raised me to believe, once I am pregnant, planned OR unplanned, it is (in my heart & belief system) God's will, God's miracle, God's choice & MY DUTY... I don't wish to get into ANY debate with ANYONE over religion. Please NOOOO I've still not recovered from my recent political trauma, so have some mercy... So there I was in 4 different situations, at various times between 17 & 30 years old, in my doctors office, being given the news... This part pretty much kills me emotionally, because if only you could step into MY BELIEF SYSTEM for one little minute, please try, IF you were brought up that way, & fully believed that, to have a medical doctor (well 4 actually) not SUGGEST, but almost INSIST you go kill your unborn child you just found out about !!!!!

See... I happened to be born with a rare congenital disorder, which can transfer from mama to baby, BUT rather than even ASK ME about any CHOICE I might want to make, they was ready to pack me off to what I CONSIDER paid killers... If they had bothered to ask me, I could easily have shared that I believe in God, that for whatever reason, (I cannot know in this lifetime) allowed me to be born with this congenital disorder... so MY MIND & HEART reasons this way... out of my mom's 4 kids, only me & 1 brother had/have it, other brother & sister, nary a sign, just fine... Now God allowed me to have it, BUT HE also allowed me to get pregnant with my child... can't you just suppose (pretend again if you must) but if this ALL KNOWING GREATER POWER, I call God allowed BOTH of those occurrences to take place, MAYBE it was so I NEEDED to place my faith in Him? That is what was required, that is what was in my prayers, "Please Father God, just take care of my baby & help me be strong, whatever Your will." When I was a little kiddo, by the way, there was no medical test for my congenital disorder... back then, you got diagnosed by certain characteristics of the anatomy, having to do with skeletal system, cardiac system, vision, & muscular systems. So that is how my brother & I were diagnosed... nobody knows before my dear mom who else may have had it, because really nothing was specifically known 2 generations prior... Yes, my mom died when I was 17, as a direct result of this condition, in fact it was literally ONE WEEK before I discovered I was pregnant, so think again (as me) I am a teenager, just lost my mom last week, then found out I am pregnant, & a medical doctor (who knew those facts by the way) is suggesting I go murder what became my beautiful daughter, not to mention the mama of my ONLY grandchild... My daughter became my shining beam of sunlight & life, thru the death of my mom, helping me have good reason to get thru some of the most difficult days of loss I ever felt... So, anyone out there wanna clue me in about MY CHOICE... Well, that's OK, I only had ONE choice because my Bible instructs me, "Thou shalt not kill", & I assure you there is no clause or addendum attached to that COMMANDMENT that says

A. Unless this is inconvenient for you... B. Unless you have no faith in Me to care... C. Unless you are concerned about money...

Naaaaa... no such deals, not for me, & not for billions of other people raised with similar beliefs, in a menagerie of various religious belief systems... so is it that hard to believe that while there are SOME OUT THERE, I'm sure who simply don't believe in God, but are ONLY bent on stealing your RIGHTS... Don't you think there's a LOT who simply feel it is our God given duty to try & stop what we view as one of the worst crimes against humanity? Is it possible? Cause I'm nice, I swear, I'm not out to get anyone... but when I've spent 30 odd years working in the health industry, & I am so beyond aware of the medical facts, & ALL OF THEM in my eyes, PROVE LIFE FROM CONCEPTION but when I first learned about things like "partial birth abortion" I am HORRIFIED !!! & no, I'm not just saying everyone is going to carry almost to term, or to term in some instances, & then grab the long surgical scissors, (I mean the BRAIN SCRAMBLER) & by the way, that IS DEFINATELY NOT why we are born with a soft spot... but to me, if it's 6 weeks, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, months, no matter, it is the KILLING of a human who is completely unable to defend itself, NOBODY is giving these kids a choice, they call em slimeblobs, to be able to live with it IMO...

I've been there, I HAVE lived it, 1 of my 4 was (possibly) the result of rape, because that happened to me, just around the time I got pregnant... we just did not know until after birth when it could be proven one way or the other, & yes, THANK GOD she ultimately wasn't the rapists child, but I promise you as God is my witness, had I known THEN, like I wasn't in my relationship, so I KNEW... I still could never have ended her life... medical facts DO PROVE life begins at conception, the medical field simply use various terms, to show what point things are at, so even if embryo or fetus sounds like blob to you, it's not, not at all, & if you only be selfless for a little while, my point is beyond proven... NOTHING that isn't alive has a heartbeat or organs forming more each day, & the scientific list goes on...

My brother, who was also born with my same congenital issues, passed away in his early 40s as a direct result of the condition... so does that mean he had nothing to offer this world in his 4 decades? Nowadays, they developed a blood test that gives a definitive yes/no answer about what I live with. There is no more figuring it out from aspects of your anatomy... I've now surpassed the age my brother & mother passed away at, about to be 58 in the spring... I don't know how or why my Father in heaven has kept me going this long, I assure you, I am far from healthy, but I like to think I contributed a LOT of good, in my time here, & I'm blessed my mom didn't just think, "Aww screw it, she might be born all messed up." & do me in... Had that happened, this world would also be (probably) without any of my 3 siblings, their children, grandchildren & and great-grandchildren, without my 4, & without my grandson... & By the way, my kids had the blood test that now exists, NONE of them have it... so I'd have also murdered them pointlessly, had I listened to the doctors...

I'm done, I pray I made an impact with SOMEBODY SOMEWHERE, I pray I at least make others think & reason things through...

God Bless & Keep You, & may He protect those who can't protect themselves, 🙏😇

[lilylushes]

Luigi x Pregnant Reader Headcanons

-Your sex life with Luigi had always been active, but once you two decided to see what happens in terms of getting pregnant, he got baby fever BAD and it turned into a whole baby making season for him. 

-You had sex almost every day before, but now it was constantly - on the countertop, in the shower, in the pool/ocean, etc. Even when you were tired, he’d happily make love to you with gentle strokes, humming how much he loved you and wanted a baby. He’d also lay on the praise even more during baby making season. “Mmm, going to give you a baby, beautiful.” “So good for me, taking all my cum, my good girl.” 

-He was SO excited when you both found out. The two of you both suspected you might be pregnant, so you took a test and decided to look at it at the same time. When you flipped it over and the two lines were clear as day, he was elated. He hugged you so tightly and even though he’s not an overly emotional guy, he cried tears of joy, and gave you so much praise. “You’re going to be the best mother.” “I love you.” “I can’t wait to do this with you.” Oh, and he’s thinking about how hot you’ll look pregnant.

-He immediately ordered a shit ton of books about pregnancy, fatherhood, babies, and everything.

-He thinks about different names all the time, too. He’d ask, “baby, what do you think of x as a name?”

-He goes to literally every appointment, ultrasound, and signs you up for a birthing class.

-NEEDS to find out the gender because he can’t not know. You’d do a little private thing, just the two of you. I picture one of those ones on the beach with a little cake and the wine glasses. No matter what you’d have, his reaction would be so precious. More hugs and tears, probably.

-He’s also kinda panicking because now he’s gonna be a literal father in charge of keeping another human alive. He is reading the books that he ordered religiously. He worries deep down that he’s not cut out to be a father.

-He proudly assembles all of the nursery furniture and makes sure it’s all safe.

-He takes up crocheting/knitting so that he can make socks, hats, a blanket, etc. for the baby. He goes kinda crazy with it, lol.

-He just wants to be a part of it all in any way that he can. He reads up on what you’re experiencing, is always asking how you’re feeling, wants to make sure you take all the vitamins you need, and takes part in your birthing class to ensure that he’ll be a supportive partner.

-He talks to your baby at night. “You have the best mom. She’s so pretty and so smart, you’ll see. You’re giving her kind of a hard time, though. It’s hard for her to sleep. Just keep still in there for a few hours, hm?”

-He is always encouraging you to try things out to make everything more comfortable for you, especially at the end.

-He talks about what the baby will look like and be like. You both agree on your eyes with his smile. You two take the opportunity to look at your own baby pictures. He’s a bit embarrassed at his, but he can’t get over how cute you were.

-Pregnancy sex, especially towards the end, is wild and constant. “I know you’re uncomfortable, baby. I read how we can induce labour, wanna give it a try?”

-He totally panics when you go into labour. He did pack your hospital bags long ago, but he gets all blushing and flustered.

-While you’re in labour, he gives you distance when you need it and is nearby when you need it.

-When your baby is born, he’d be crying so hard. Between your baby being here and how proud he is of you for going through labour, he’d be extremely emotional.

-He can’t believe how tiny the baby is, being totally in awe of their little hands and feet. He’s just in disbelief that you two made this sweet little baby.

-Afterwards, when you’re holding the baby, he says, “thank you for giving me him/her.”

-Even though he’s running on no sleep, he’d watch you sleep afterwards and come over to kiss your cheeks and forehead.

-He’s so proud to bring your visitors in. He’d by hyping you up to them, like, “she did such a good job, I’m so proud of her. She was so strong the whole time.”

-When you’re leaving the hospital, he’s beaming with pride to be able to look beside him and see you and your baby. 

-When you’re in the car, he’d look in the mirror at you and your baby in the backseat, and say, “There’s nobody else I’d rather do this with, y/n. love you, baby.”

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Teacher's Pet Baby

Cg!Professor!Wanda Maximoff x little!student!reader

Summary: You've pushed yourself a little too far when feeling sick at school and Wanda won't stand for it.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Age regression, sick fic, mentions of medicine and having to take it, fluff and comfort

Authors notes: I'm sick, so here have a sick fic

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

You barely make it to your seat, sinking into the chair as quietly as possible while the chatter of your classmates fills the lecture hall. Their voices feel too loud, and the room feels impossibly warm despite the fever patch hidden beneath your beanie, and even though you took medicine earlier, it’s barely making a dent now.

Professor Maximoff notices immediately.

Her sharp green eyes sweep over the class as she prepares to start, but they linger on you just a moment longer than necessary. As the students settle down, she steps closer to your desk, lowering her voice so only you can hear.

"You're not feeling well," she states rather than asks.

You sit up straighter, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, Professor. Just tired. I took medicine, and I’ve got a fever patch under my beanie. It’s nothing, really."

Wanda’s lips press into a thin line, unconvinced, but she knows how stubborn you can be—especially when it comes to school.

Developmental Psychology is your last class of the day, and she understands how brutal the coursework is, not just from her own class but from the other professors as well.

After a pause, she sighs. "Alright," she concedes. "But if it gets worse, let me know."

You nod, relieved that she’s letting you stay. She gives you one last look before turning to begin the lecture.

Halfway through, however, Wanda’s concern grows.

You’re struggling to keep up, blinking slowly at the board, your posture slumping more and more as time drags on. Your face is becoming more flushed, your breathing shallow, and you’re practically nodding off in your seat.

That’s enough.

She sets down her marker and claps her hands once. "Alright, everyone, let's take a ten-minute break."

There’s a collective sigh of relief as students stretch, pull out their phones, or head for the door. As Wanda steps out of the room, your phone vibrates in your lap.

Mama 🧸: I'm going to come back into class in a rush, say something came up, and end for the evening. Meet me at my car, okay?

You stare at the message, eyes bleary, but manage to type a simple:

You: Okay.

A few minutes later, just as promised, Wanda rushes back in, looking convincingly flustered.

"Class, I’m so sorry—something urgent just came up. We’re ending for the evening. Check the portal for notes and assignments. I’ll see you all next time."

There’s a mix of murmurs—some students thrilled at the early dismissal, others confused—but they all start packing up. You move slower than usual, dizzier than before, but you make your way out the door.

The evening air is cool against your overheated skin as you spot Wanda waiting beside her car, her arms crossed, and an unreadable expression on her face.

"You’re too stubborn for your own good," she mutters as you approach. Before you can protest, she opens the passenger door. "Get in. I’m taking you home."

You don’t argue. You’re too exhausted, too.

And as soon as you’re settled in the seat, Wanda sighs again, softer this time. "Next time, just tell me when you’re sick, Malyshka. I’d rather help you than watch you push yourself like this."

You hum in response, eyelids already drooping.

✎✐ ✎ ✐ ✎ ✐

The warmth surrounding you is comforting, familiar in a way that makes your mind slip before you even realize it’s happening. You blink groggily, feeling weightless, and it takes a moment for you to register why—strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you securely against a firm chest.

Your head lolls slightly, and a soft hum vibrates beneath your cheek. "There you are, my sleepy munchkin," Wanda murmurs. Her voice is low, soothing, the kind of tone she only ever uses when it’s just the two of you.

Your fingers twitch, instinctively seeking something to grasp, and without hesitation, she adjusts her hold so you can curl into her more. "Mama…" you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

She shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your hair as she carries you to the front door of her house. "Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just rest."

You let out a soft whimper, your body too achy and feverish to fight the little space creeping in, especially with how safe she makes you feel. "Didn’ mean to be little," you mumble, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Wanda chuckles, shifting you slightly as she unlocks the door. "I know, baby. But you don’t have to be big with me right now. You’re sick, and Mama’s going to take care of you."

A tiny, tired pout forms on your lips. "Didn’t wanna be a ‘burrden…”

She tuts softly, carrying you straight to the couch and sitting down with you still cradled in her lap. "Never a burden, my love. You’re my Malyshka, no matter what."

The reassurance makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with the fever. Your small hands clutch at her button up as you burrow into her warmth, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. "Love Mama…" you whisper, voice slurred with exhaustion.

The warmth of Wanda's embrace lulls you into a half-dazed state, but you're still aware enough to feel her shift beneath you. Her gentle touch never falters as she rubs your back, her voice soft as she murmurs, "Let's get you cleaned up and comfy, sweetheart. You’ll feel much better after a nice cool bath."

You whimper softly, curling tighter against her. "No wanna move…"

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I know, baby, but Mama will help. You don't have to do anything, just let me take care of you, okay?”

With slow, steady movements, she carries you into the bathroom, setting you down on the closed toilet lid as she kneels in front of you. Her fingers are delicate as she peels away your beanie, revealing the fever patch still clinging to your forehead. She hums in approval. "You did so good taking care of yourself today, my love. But now it’s my turn."

She helps you out of your clothes, guiding you carefully into the warm, soothing bath she’s already drawn. The heat immediately eases some of the aches in your body, and a sleepy sigh escapes you as she begins washing your hair, her fingers massaging your scalp in slow, comforting motions.

"Such a good little munchkin," she praises, tilting your head back just enough to rinse the suds away without getting any in your eyes. "Mama's so proud of you."

You hum at the words, your mind fully slipping into little space under her tender care. By the time she’s rinsing off the last of the bubbles, your limbs are loose and pliant, letting her wrap you in a soft towel and carry you back into the bedroom.

"Look what I got for you," she coos, holding up a pair of adorable Bluey pajamas. Your eyes light up at the sight, and she chuckles at your tiny, excited wiggle. "I knew you'd like these, baby.”

She dresses you with ease, guiding your little arms and legs through the soft fabric before pulling the sleeves down and smoothing them over your skin. Once you're dressed, she settles you onto the bed and disappears for a moment, only to return with a small plastic bottle in her hand.

Your nose scrunches up at the sight. "Noooooo," you whine, trying to turn your head away.

Wanda tuts, sitting beside you with a knowing smirk. "Oh, don't give me that look, munchkin. You need your medicine so you can feel all better."

You shake your head, pressing your lips together in a pout. "Tastes yucky.”

Her sea glass eyes soften, and she shifts closer, cupping your cheek as she gently strokes her thumb along your warm skin. "I know, munchkin, but Mama's got something to make it better."

With her free hand, she holds up a sippy cup, the one she always keeps just for you. Your favorite juice sloshes inside, the sight making your pout waver.

"Take your medicine for Mama, and you can have your sippy, okay?" she coaxes.

You hesitate, but when she brings the little plastic cup of grape-flavored liquid to your lips, you wrinkle your nose and take it anyway, swallowing quickly with a dramatic shudder.

"Bleh!”

Wanda chuckles, immediately pressing your sippy cup into your hands. "Such a brave baby," she praises, watching as you eagerly take a few gulps of the sweet juice to wash away the taste.

Once you’re settled, she reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing your favorite stuffie—your beloved, well-worn plush that she always makes sure is close by. "Here, my love," she murmurs, tucking it into your arms.

You cling to it, already feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you back down. Wanda leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before lying beside you, pulling you into her embrace. Her fingers stroke lazily up and down your back, her presence grounding and warm.

"Sleep, munchkin," she whispers, her voice the last thing you hear as your eyes flutter shut. "Mama’s right here.”

And with that, you let yourself drift off, safe and loved in her arms.

[cheriecelestial]

Ocean Eyes Pt.I

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ mild angst(?), not proofread

pairing *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Percy Jackson x Gojo fem!OC

synopsis *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ In which, fate leads an aspiring jujutsu sorcercer to discover her destiny as a half god in a camp for demigods.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Revamping an old series on a whim. And as my previous a/n read “based on this one dream i had and also cuz pjo was my first comfort series and jjk is my current one (only s1)” And as always

Comment, Like and Reblog ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth and try to lead a normal life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened. But if you recognize yourself in these pages - if you feel something stirring inside - stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Gojo Kanao—or Kanao Gojo, following Western naming conventions. I’m fourteen years old and raised in Tokyo, Japan. As the youngest member of the Gojo clan, niece of Gojo Satoru, and an aspiring sorcerer, my life was unfolding just as it should. Days were spent training and studying jujutsu, while nights were dedicated to assisting on missions—though only under supervision, since my uncle deemed me too young to go on missions alone but too old to remain entirely inexperienced with curses.

Everything was going smoothly until three weeks ago when my uncle received a call from an “old family friend”. Before I knew it, I was packing my bags to enroll in a so-called “summer camp” for “kids like me.” The irony of that statement isn’t lost on me—because aside from my uncle, I’m pretty much one of a kind. It’s not like every other generation produces a Six Eyes user blessed with Limitless. My existence is what many call an “anomaly in the world's power balance,” sparking endless debates among the higher-ups. Not that it bothers me anymore—especially since Uncle Satoru has no qualms about threatening to obliterate anyone who so much as looks at me the wrong way.

He took me in after my father passed away when I was four, and he was just eighteen. With my father gone, the Gojo clan was essentially reduced to just my uncle and me, as little was known about my birth mother. In fact, the first time my uncle even learned that he had both a sister-in-law and a niece—thanks to his absentee older brother—was when the so-called family friend showed up at the Gojo Clan’s doorstep, dragging along a drooling four-year-old with white pigtails.

As shocking as it must have been to suddenly become a single parent, my uncle—or as I call him, Satoru nii-san—adapted to the role with surprising ease. His reasoning? “The baby looks like a mini-me, and I vibe with that.” And, of course, in typical Satoru fashion, he never missed a chance to remind me and my also-adopted siblings, Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro, that “having you kids just adds to my dilf appeal.” This was inevitably followed by Megumi deadpanning, Tsumiki offering an awkward smile, and me audibly gagging. Needless to say, he’s nowhere near as beloved—or as tolerable—as he seems to think he is.

“How could you do this to me?” I mumbled, my eyes following the blurred silhouettes of trees rushing past the car window. The only response I got was a string of barely audible curses— pathetic, really.

After countless fights, screaming matches, tears, scratches, and even a few failed escape attempts, I had ultimately been forced to attend this so-called camp. My uncle’s whimsical descriptions—strawberry fields, flying horses, Greek gods, and half-goat people—were enough for Megumi to call absolute bullshit. But as much as I hated to admit it, I knew it was real. After all, it was where I had spent the first four years of my life.

“Nyao-chan, this is the 30th time you’ve said that in the past fifteen hours of flight time. Do better.”

I didn’t even need to look—I could feel nii-san rolling his eyes from the front seat.

“Toru-nii, don’t call me that,” I hissed, turning away with a dramatic hmph, hoping—just maybe—that a shred of guilt would creep into his conscience.

I remembered that place well, and it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Under different circumstances, I might have even enjoyed visiting. But he refused to acknowledge how much this would derail my progress as a sorcerer. Instead, he’d brushed off my concerns with, “Your development as a demigod is just as fundamental to your growth as your development as a sorcerer. Take it as a learning experience. Have fun. And for the love of god, make some friends that aren’t the Fushiguros or your creepy pet snake.”

Yeah. Like that would end well.

The last time I tried socializing, some boy called me a brat, and I instinctively activated my cursed technique—for the first time ever—in an attempt to kill him. A stunning breakthrough, sure, but not exactly a great first impression. Fortunately for them, the whole incident was ultimately brushed off with an ‘all’s well that ends well’ verdict.

I, on the other hand, walked away from that disaster with a solid 2-star rating. Would not recommend.

“I mean, considering how much you love small spaces, scratching, and hissing, you might as well be one,” he teased. “But hey, cheer up! You’re going to see your Chiron-sensei and Dino oji-san again. Won’t that be fun? All those childhood memories flooding back. Plus, I hear summer camps are really fun.” The exaggerated emphasis on those names made me cringe internally.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized my so-called Dino-oji-san was actually Dionysus, the Greek god of wine. I could only imagine what he must have felt, holding a toddler in his lap while she gleefully butchered his name to suit her convenience. The sheer secondhand embarrassment of the memory made me even less willing to go.

“What kind of summer camp runs in November ?” I shot back, earning an exasperated sigh from him.

Our satyr chauffeur casually mentioned that we were fifteen minutes away from camp. At that point, turning back wasn’t even an option. As the car sped along the winding road, I sank deeper into my seat, arms crossed, scowling at the window like a kid being dragged to school. My fingers drummed against my knee—an unconscious habit I had picked up from nii-san, though I’d rather die than admit it.

"You’re pouting," he pointed out, amusement lacing his voice.

"I’m brooding," I corrected, turning to glare at him. "There’s a difference."

He only grinned. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Nyao-chan."

I clenched my fists. "Stop. Calling. Me. That."

Before I knew it, the car came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road. There was nothing ahead but an empty stretch of asphalt, surrounded by dense vegetation on either side. “What happened ?” I asked, leaning forward.

The satyr turned to me and blinked. That’s when I realized I had spoken in Japanese instead of English. With the exception of my struggles with dyslexia, English had been fairly easy to learn—I credited Satoru-nii’s obsession with Friends and Britney Spears for that. But learning in general had always come naturally to me. I never had to try too hard to pick up a skill, something that both puzzled and frustrated others. Even I didn’t fully understand it. Apparently, it was a trait of a true Gojo—being godly perfect. That applied to everything except my cursed energy technique. At some point, I had hit a plateau, no matter what method I tried. My growth had stalled. Maybe that’s why he was sending me here.

“She meant, why did we stop?” Nii-san asked, his tone laced with amusement.

“We’re here,” the satyr replied simply. 

I glanced around in confusion. I saw nothing. Then, without a hint of urgency, the satyr stepped out of the car, gesturing for us to follow. With luggage in hand and no better options, we did. As we walked, the dense vegetation seemed to part before us, revealing a familiar yet distant world. My stomach twisted as a rush of forgotten memories threatened to surface—the scent of strawberries in the air, the distant sound of laughter, a warm voice calling my name.

I shook my head. No. That was then. This is now.

I let out a slow breath, steeling myself. Nii-san, of course, was already opening the door, stepping out with his usual carefree swagger. I had no doubt he was about to make a grand spectacle of my arrival, much to my horror. 

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, stretching. “Time to make some demigod friends!”

I scowled. “ I’d rather be cursed.”

He smirked. “That can be arranged.”

I swallowed hard. This is really happening.

After a short hike through the woods, we arrived at a large stone arch. It was a mix of weathered wood and ancient stone, covered in cracks and patches of moss. Greek symbols were carved into the top, their edges worn with age. I stared at the inscription, and to my surprise, the letters began to shift. At first, I thought my dyslexia was acting up, but then I realized—the symbols were rearranging themselves, forming words in English. Within seconds, the inscription clearly read: CAMP HALFBLOOD

“You look surprised. What do you see, Kana ?” Nii-san asked, his eyes on me. I described what had just happened, and he smirked, muttering something under his breath. Curious, I reached out and extended my hand toward the arch. Much like a jujutsu curtain, my fingers passed effortlessly through the barrier, which emitted a faint blue glow upon contact.

“Nii-san, you try it,” I gestured for him to do the same.

He reached out, but the moment his hand touched the barrier, it resisted, pulsing as if rejecting him. A flicker of amusement crossed his face before he pulled back.

“This barrier is stronger than I expected,”he remarked to the satyr, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I'm impressed.” The satyr puffed up slightly at the praise, his hooves shifting in the dirt. “Well, of course. It keeps out unwanted guests,” he said pointedly, glancing at Nii-san, who only grinned in response.

“Nii-san, if you really wanted to break through, how long would it take?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. If you asked anyone to describe Gojo Satoru in a single word, it would undoubtedly be ‘strongest’. There wasn’t a barrier he couldn’t break or a curse he couldn’t exorcise—as long as he put in the effort. He tilted his head, considering it. “Hmmm… it’s strong, I’ll give it that. But we wouldn’t want to put an entire camp full of kids in danger, right?”

I shrugged, accepting that as a fair enough reason despite him not giving me a straight forward answer.

“From here on out, it's just her. No one else can go inside,” the satyr said. “Yeah, we got that,” Satoru-nii replied, clapping his hands with a bright smile. “Just give us two minutes, okay? You know I need a moment to say goodbye to my precious baby.” The satyr blinked, then silently stepped away, out of earshot. Satoru-nii cupped my face in his hands, his voice soft and trembling as if he were about to cry. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “You didn’t feel any guilt over the past few days, and now you’re crying?”

“It’s not that simple!” he protested, his lower lip quivering. “I know I have to let my baby bird leave the nest because it’s what’s best for you, but I—” His voice broke, and a pang of guilt hit me. I sighed and hugged him. “I’ll miss you too. But I’ll be fine.”

“Call me every day, you hear me? And make sure you eat well and get enough sleep. Oh my god, I sound like an old woman!” Gojo Satoru had a talent for completely ignoring the fact that Megumi, Tsumiki, and I technically had mothers —albeit either an absent or dead one—and acted like he was the one who’d carried us for nine months and given birth. But hey, who doesn’t appreciate a little extra coddling now and then?

“I can't believe you're leaving already.”

He chuckled, quickly shifting his tone to cover up the emotion in his voice. “What, you thought I’d stick around? I’d love to play the doting guardian, but this camp doesn’t exactly cater to ‘normal’ people like me.” He winked. “Besides, I’ve got my own life, you know.”

I scowled. “Debatable.”

The satyr cleared his throat. “We should get moving, Kanao. Chiron’s waiting.”

I rolled my eyes at the satyr before looking back at Nii-san. “But in any case, I’ll be just fine. Don’t worry.”

“I know. You'll be fine. Always. You'll be better than me, I know it.” Satoru nii-san’s voice softened, dropping into a low, almost wistful whisper. “Even though you're the best there is?” I asked, offering him a gentle smile. To that, he said something I didn’t expect. “You've inherited only my powers, I don't want you to inherit my tragedies too.”

His words left a bitter taste in my mouth. People often assumed that because he was the strongest, his life was easy. But it was people like him who suffered the most—so much so that sometimes, it made you wish you didn’t have power at all.

“And lastly,” he continued, as if the previous conversation had never happened, “don’t kill anyone. But if you do, get rid of the witnesses and call Nii-san first. Nii-san will take care of it.”

I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. First of all, shouldn’t he be teaching his kid to be nice to people? And second, why was he referring to himself in the third person?

“Shouldn't you be saying ‘don’t bully people and be nice’ or something?” I asked, though his advice wasn’t the first of its kind. My brother Megumi had a reputation for beating up people at school, but Nii-san never saw an issue with it. The people Megumi fought were rarely innocent, and besides, he never lost a fight—so no shame was brought to the family name.

“If there's anyone you think shouldn’t be alive, then they shouldn’t be. Just remember, the world’s your playground. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” he replied with complete conviction. One thing everyone knew about Gojo Satoru was that he was a firm believer in Gojo family supremacy—and he wasn’t wrong.

“Then what about those sleazy higher-ups?” I quipped, knowing full well what he was trying to do. I was aware of his grand plan to tear down the old order and build a new jujutsu world, which was the real reason he’d become a teacher. It was a vision I’d bought into the moment he showed me the dream of it. But for that dream to become a reality, I had to grow stronger. I needed to become more, become unstoppable. So, I’d gladly accept any wisdom the Greeks had to offer. By the time I was done here, I’d make sure I was the strongest demigod they’d ever laid their eyes on.

“All in due time Kana-chan.”

A/n: comment to be added into the taglist :)

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 10: The Shadow to my Flame

Series masterlist

Masterlist

“So my mother asked to curl your hair?” Eris asked Ashe. He looked confused and also worried in a way. She couldn’t detect all the emotions in his look.

“Yes,” she answered him. “I was curtain I was getting fired and that she was only nice to me because of it.”

Eris let out a small laugh. He seemed tense, but Ashe knew he wouldn’t tell her why if she asked.

“I think she misses Lucian,” Ashe continued. “Have you heard anything from or about him?”

Eris shook his head.

“I only know he’s in spring. He never answers my letters. I’m not sure he gets them.”

Ashe was the only one that knew how much his youngest brother meant to Eris. Their family dynamic was hard, and all the brothers had been set up against each other from the start. However, Eris loved being an older brother. He loved seeing his brothers grow and learn. He just didn’t have any way to show it without being weak.

Eris looked very thoughtful, and Ashe realized it was time for a subject change.

“How was the ball?” she asked him instead.

Ashe hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with Eris since ball on Saturday. It was now Tuesday evening. So much had happened in the last week. Ashe felt like she had lived a new life. She had so much she wanted to tell him, but she knew she couldn’t.

She would wait until Sunday and then she could talk to Samli about everything. Especially the kiss. 

“Boring as usual. Only politics and dancing.”

“But dancing seems so nice,” Ashe told him with a small pout.

Eris was a very good dancer, but he never liked it. He didn’t like dance as a way of communicating. Ashe, however, would spent every ball she worked at as a way to look at all the different dances. It felt magical.

“How’s your back?”

“It’s fine. Almost doesn’t hurt anymore.”

With that, Eris pulled her up by her arms and laid one of them on his shoulder and held the other in his hand. His last hand laid at her waist.

“Do, ti, ti,” he sang the rhythm in the lightest voice he could, and then he started the dance.

Ashe couldn’t help but laugh. Both at the dance and at his ridiculous voice.

“You’re stepping on my toes!” Eris said. “I taught you better.”

That only made Ashe laugh even more, but she tried her best to not step on him again.

Eris had taught her to dance many years ago. He usually would dance with her before or after a big ball. And they always laughed their way through it.

Ashe didn’t mind being a servant. She of course wished they would get treated better, but she absolutely didn’t mind the work. But one ball. That was her wish. She just wanted to go to one ball. She had told Eris that, and her friend had since danced with her. He always said it was to prepare her for the day when her dream would come true.

They laughed and spoke for many hours. Even though Ashe’s live had taken a big turn the last week, at least the nights with her friend stayed the same. Or so she thought.

Azriel had read through the documents and the book three times. The book was rules for servants that he stole from Ashe.

Ashe.

Even thinking her name made him weak in the knees. Her soft eyes, calming voice and pretty smile.

“Mate,” his shadows sung.

“Shut up.”

Azriel was pacing back and forth in his office. He felt so stupid. And at the same time confused. And at the same time like he had the biggest crush in existence.

He couldn’t be right. He refused to be right. He felt everything at once.

Had she lied to him? Had he been blinded by the mating bond? Did Ashe at all know about the mating bond?

Please, be wrong.

He usually would just press down his feelings and pretend to forget them, but this. This was too much. He packed down the book, the hair colour, the small piece of hair and the two documents he stole from Autumn.

He felt almost his entire body shake as he made his way to the townhouse, where his brothers would be.

He walked silently into the living room and spotted Cass, Rhys, Mor and Amren. Seeing Mor made him even more nauseous. What had he done?

He looked quickly between Rhys and Cass.

“I need to speak to you two,” he said. He hated how shaky his voice was. And he saw how his brothers were going to make fun of him. They were smirking, however, they made their way to Rhys’ office in silence.

“Okay, brother. What’s going on.”

Azriel felt like he was going to throw up. He was crazy. He must have become insane. It was an insane theory, but at the same time, he found so many things that backend it.

“You okay, Az?”

He looked over and saw how both his brothers looked rather worried. He would just have to jump in and do it.

“You know Ashe?”

His brothers nodded.

“The servant you couldn’t stop daydreaming about in Autumn,” Cass said with an even bigger smirk. “You were basically drooling at her.”

“Shut it,” Azriel told him, even though he spoke the truth.

“What about her?” Rhys asked.

Azriel regretted that he didn’t write down what he needed to say. All the words got mixed up in his head. He should have found a better way to pack in the information. But he hadn’t planned this, so he just spoke.

“She’s a spy for us.”

Rhys and Cass shared a worried glance.

“We already know that.”

Right. Of course they did. He had told them before. This is so stupid, he just needs them to know.

“I think we should get her out of Autumn,” he said.

“Okay,” Rhys answered. “Why?”

“I’m not sure we can trust her any longer.”

Azriel felt like he was going to explode. Why couldn’t they just know what he wanted to tell them?

“What happene-”

“She’s my mate.”

Azriel froze when he realized what he had just said. He didn’t dare to look at his brothers. He had always planned to keep her a secret until they accepted the bond, but after what he had just learned, he needed them to know.

Ashe was his mate. He had known since the first letter. Or, his shadows had known. They would tell him all about her and tell him exactly what she was going through. They called her his mate, and Azriel didn’t know her by any other name until she introduced herself as Flame.

So yes, he had spied on his mate. But it was only to make sure she was safe.

And then when he first saw her in the dungeon, he knew for sure what she was.

He wanted to hold her then. To kiss her and touch her hair. Her beautiful…brown…hair. But he refused to do so. He was going to be strong.

That lasted about three hours, before he snuck into her cabin. He tried to figure out more about her. That’s how he found the brown hair colour and red hairs. His mate had red hair. Mother, he wished to see her with her natural hair colour. Even the thought of it made his heart dance. She would look so cute and sexy. Definitely sexy.

That’s also where he found the book for servants that told him that Ashe was forced to colour her hair.

He hadn’t meant for her to find him there, so he pretended it was a part of being one of his spies. He couldn’t stay away. He needed to know more.

That’s when he learned about all the abuse his mate had gone through. He learned about the pain she was dealing with as they spoke. Azriel wanted to do anything for her. He wanted to make the pain go away. If she had asked him for something, anything at all, he would to it.

Most of the harm had come from the High Lord himself. Why would he hurt her if she was…

After the conversation, he found it even harder to stay away. He needed to protect her. To make sure no one would ever hurt her again. He needed to see her eyes light up in a smile. He needed to feel her warmth and touch her. He didn’t necessarily mean touching sexually, even though he wanted that too. He just felt the need to hold her. Play with her hair. Hold her hand. Kiss her. He wanted to look deep into her amber eyes.

But now, he wasn’t sure he could look into her eyes without seeing…

When he saw her curled hair in the dining room, he lost all self-control. He almost drooled. His mate was so pretty.

He needed help to sneak into the office, but most of all he just needed to see her again. He hadn’t planned on kissing her. But she looked so terrified and when her hand gripped his tighter than usual, he couldn’t help himself.

Ashe had the softest lips he had ever kissed. He had to force himself to stop kissing her, before he went too far to hold back all he wanted to do to her. Her flushed face made him struggle to stand.

He let himself have one last kiss, and then he left.

But know, after he had learned what he had, he felt so stupid. How could he have trusted her so easily? But at the same time, what if he was wrong? Or what if he was right, but Ashe didn’t know? He just wanted her to be the kind, soft and wonderful female he thought she was!

After what she had told him and what his shadows had told him, Ashe had no clue.

However, if Ashe did know…then he had almost doomed the entire Night Court.

“That’s great Az! But why does that mean we can’t trust her?” Rhys’ voice pulled him out of his daydreaming.

Azriel looked at his brothers shocked faces. He saw that they were happy, but at the same time, neither one of them knew how to react. They soon begun to smile instead.

He took a deep breath and hid partially in his shadows before he spoke next.

“I have reasons to believe she is Beron’s daughter.”

Ashe was getting ready for bed. Eris had left a little of an hour ago, but Ashe had been too busy daydreaming over a certain winged male to do go to bed.

However, she was exhausted.

So, when a knock was heard from her door, she didn’t think twice. It was probably Eris coming back to say something or getting something he forgot.

If she had been a little less tired, she would know that Eris never came back to her room in so close intervals. Their friendship was a big secret.

Ashe walked over to the door and opened it. Fully expecting to see her friend or maybe Maria.

However, looking at her from the other side of the door was no other than the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

And he did not look happy.

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky @mis-lil-red

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Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[clowningcrows]

was feeling real dysphoric so i put on a gender affirming fit and am now manspreading on the couch and i have to admit it do be helping a bit

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Look look i'm finally writting my ghoul OC !!! She's very important to me, so if anyone cares, here she is ! Meet Clicks !

Clicks yawns, certain by the concerned look the sister passing her by sends her that her jaw, as flexible as a snake's, looks dislocated. It's been a long day, all six of her eyes heavy-lidded as she trudges toward the ghouls' wing, rubbing her buzzed hair absent-mindedly. Assigning her to roof maintenance is logical, given Clicks' taste for high perches and the pair of huge leathery wings carrying her effortlessly through the air. Much less risky than sending a human up there, fragile lifeline easily severed by one nasty fall.

And really, Clicks likes her job. She likes the burn of pleasant exhaustion after a day of effort, she likes crouching on the very edge of roofs to watch people going about their lives beneath, she likes feeling the wind wrap around her, a playful companion to her lonely work. She doesn't mind being alone, either. She doesn't. Her job is great, and it's okay that she hasn't talked once today. It's okay that her back aches from having to keep her heavy wings unglamored, a safety net if she were to slip. It's okay that she snatched something to eat from the kitchens, too late to share a meal with any other ghoul. It's okay.

It's okay, until Clicks rounds a corner without paying attention and walks straight into Omega.

He makes a little huffing sound, startled, but immediately grabs her elbow to stabilize her. He doesn't flinch at the sound her rattlesnake tail makes as it instinctively shakes in warning, nor at the serie of threatening tongue clicks she makes, the very sames that gave her her name. Instead, he frowns, alarmed by her violent reaction, eyes searching her face.

"Easy, Clicks. Easy, it's just me. Are you okay ?"

She is, now that the adrenaline rush from the surprise is coming down, and she opens her mouth to say so, but Omega's hand is still on her elbow. Thumb tracing absent-minded circles over the runes inked in grey skin. It's like Clicks' mind zeroed in on the sensation, achingly aware of it. She wants him to stop. She never wants him to pull away. Shit.

"Clicks."

Another hand reaches for her, cups the back of her head, drags her into a firm embrace, and it's like a damn broke. He smells like something fizzy and magical, like quintessence, like hope. Clicks sags into Omega after half a second of stiffness, clinging to him like he's the only thing keeping her together. Omega always had this power, since the moment he took the time to wrap a fluffy blanket around the shoulders of an air and earth hybrid ghoulette that wasn't meant for music and greatness, just another creature summoned to help with trivial tasks.

But Omega is there for all of the new ghouls, knows even the most avoidant ones by name, always keeps an eye out for the loners who hover at the outskirts of the pack, never daring to bond any further with the darling band ghouls, the crown jewels of the ministry. Clicks is one of those recluse, always staying distant with said band ghouls, but she admitedly has two exceptions. One of them is currently rocking her back and forth, shushing her softly. The second, well. She's not sure she wants to know what Alpha's up to that late.

Omega runs his hand along Clicks back- and immediately hisses when he reaches the painful knot she spent hours ignoring, just under her right shoulderblade.

"Shit, Clicks, that has to hurt."

She sighs in agreement, nuzzling her face in his shoulder, his scent surrounding her. Safe. She is safe.

"Can you...quintessence it the fuck away ?"

Clicks feels Omega's soft chuckle more than she hears it as he carefully brushes against the sore spot in her back, assessing the damages.

"Mmh, I can. Let's get you to your room, yeah ?"

The rest of the walk back is much nicer, despite Clicks' still exacerbated feelings and the pain radiating from her back. The occasional light knocking of her shoulder against Omega's - or rather, the quint's bulky arm, tall fucker- is comforting, as is the tail loosely wrapped around her waist. In her solitary routine, Clicks forgot how soothing this quiet kind of company could be.

Omega slows to a stop as they pass the cracked open door of the common room. There's a vaguely familiar ghoul lounging on the couch, throwing a ball as high as they can and catching it back before it can smash against their face. Omega's eyes fly from them to Clicks, a thoughtful crease appearing between his eyebrows.

"A fire ghoul might help with your back. It would make the whole ordeal more comfortable, less artificial for your body. I would call for Alpha but he is...busy. Would you mind me asking someone else ?"

Clicks shuffles a bit. It's not that she doesn't like people, it's just that she's bad at meeting new ones, awkward in a way that makes her want to crawl out of her own skin when she thinks back on every social interactions she had. She comes off either as cold, or weird, and either way, it's often just too embarrassing to be worth it. But above all, she trusts Omega. So, she nods tentatively, the quint turing toward the ghoul on the couch.

"Ifrit !"

The ghoul in question jolts, yanked out of his thoughts by the call. The ball he was playing with hits him on the forehead, which he only reacts to with a startled shake of head and a frankly adorable nose scrunch. He smiles, open and easy, once he catches sight of Omega, who gestures for him to join him.

"On me."

Ifrit is quick to saunter over to them, peering curiously at Clicks with a questioning trill. Omega smoothes a hand on the nape of his neck, gently knocking their horns together.

"Ifrit, this is Clicks-"

"Hey, I know you," Ifrit interrupts, tail starting to wag as he tilts his head toward Clicks, "you're the ghoulette who's always up on the rooftops, right ?"

Clicks blinks slowly, one pair of eyes at a time, taken aback. After a too long pause, she takes the hand Ifrit is offering, and shakes it as firmly as she can.

"...yeah, that's me. You're, ah. An ex guitarist, right ?"

Ifrit chuckles easily, shaking black strands of hair away from his face.

"Well, technically still a guitarist, just, not touring with the band anymore. So, what can I do...?"

The fire ghoul turns back toward Omega with a question in his eyes. The quint hums.

"Clicks' back is giving her shit, I'm guessing because of the weight of her wings. I need you to help loosening the muscles before I go in with quintessence, or else it might be a bit brutal. Think you can do that ?"

Ifrit nods enthusiastically, like there's nothing else he'd rather do than help some ghoulette he just met with her everyday aches. She feels a bit like they're overreacting ; the pain is annoying, but it isn't that bad, right ? She can still somewhat work, and it only hurts real bad when she moves. But they're leading her to her room, hellbent (ha !) on fixing it for her. Clicks feels strangely warm, trotting between the two big ghouls in the long hallways so typical of the Ministry's buildings. Must be the natural heat Ifrit's oozing. Surely.

Apparently having an endless social battery, the fire ghoul leans toward Clicks, that curious glint still there in his eyes.

"So, you got wings ? Like an air ghoul ?"

It feels a bit weird, this almost stranger displaying genuine interest in such a detail, but there doesn't seem to be any ill intentions behind it, so Clicks decides to indulge him.

"Yeah. But, not feathery. More like a bat, I guess ? They're pretty huge, so I keep them glamored when I don't work."

She hesitates, before returning a question of her own.

"...is it normal for you to be glowing ?"

Ifrit blinks, taken aback, before looking at the wide expense of his chest, barely covered by his filmsy tank top, blushing when he takes in the soft orange light swirling under his skin.

"...oh," he sighs, bashfull, "...yeah. I mean, kinda. It gets that way when i'm excited."

Clicks tilts her head, amused. Cute.

"It's also a mating thing," Omega chimes in with a mischievious smile, "supposed to attract partners."

"Mega-" Ifrit whines, now deeply embarrassed, the tip of his ears flushing, "don't listen to him, that's not all it's for, it doesn't mean-"

Clicks really can't help her chuckle and, after a short consideration, bumps shoulders with him.

"I know, I know. Mostly an emotional thing, got it. I just asked because Alpha doesn't do that."

Ifrit perks up as Clicks, having finally reached her room, unlocks the door and flicks only the string lights on.

"You know the old- wow."

Ifrit cuts himself off as he takes in the inside of Clicks' bedroom. The shelves full of strange trinkets, the many curious potted plants stuffed everywhere they fit, the display where are lined so may different kind of ritual knives.

"A true magpie, isn't she ?" Omega rumbles fondly, closing the door behind them and encouraging Clicks to lay on her bed, clustered with blankets, pillows and at least seven different crow plushies. She curls on top of the bedding, surveying with one pair of eyes Ifrit's awed observation of the room, while the other two close in contentement at finally being home.

"...your room is so cool," Ifrit huffs in near disblief. He's careful not to touch anything without Clicks' permission, which she is grateful for. She is very specific about her belongings and who gets to go anywhere near them. "How did you even get all those knives ?"

Clicks grins, curved fangs catching the low light.

"Sticky fingers and quick retreat."

Ifrit's laughter bounces off the walls as he politely lingers at the foot of her bed, only sitting next to her when she gestures for him to. He nods toward her plushies as she lays on her front, trying for a stretch that gets cut short by the flaring in her back.

"I like them. Got a thing for crows ?"

Omega, who sank into an armchair Clicks snagged years ago from Primo's overly clustered office, chuckles as he rolls his sleeves.

"You have no idea. She befriended so many of them she's got a flock following her while she works."

Clicks huffs, kicking a few pillows off the bed to free some space and let Ifrit settle more comfortably.

"They're amazing, is all. Do you know how smart they are ?"

Omega nods with that fond smile that feels like home.

"I do, and I would love to hear you rant about them, but I would rather we start with your back. We can do it through your shirt if you're more comfortable with it, but ideally-"

"It's fine," she cuts him off, wiggling until she can get the tshirt - at least two sizes too big with holes on the back for her wings- off and on the floor. She crosses her tattooed arms and rests her head on them, peering at Ifrit. She's not really shy about it ; a body's a body, and it's not like ghouls have any problems with casual nudity, but her vessel has known violence, both in the pit and on earth, and wears its marks.

Instead of focusing on the lacerations forever imprinted on her lower back, or the telling jaw imprint just below where he'll have to work, Ifrit's eyes fly to the intricate motives following the curve of Clicks' spine, a mix of prayers in many obscur languages, symbols, and ritual markings, all aimed toward one thing : protection. Ifrit wistles lowly as he starts feeling for the knot under Clicks' shoulderblade.

"Nice ink. Alpha did it for you ?"

Clicks nods vaguely, groaning in relief when Ifrit's palms heat up, working against tense muscles. They're callused, like any guitar player, but incredibly gentle as they prod at painful spots.

"Must've taken so much hours. Hurt much ?"

A right chatterbox, this ghoul, but Clicks finds she doesn't mind, hopelessly endeared by his eagerness.

"Sure did, but the pain was alright I guess. My first sleeve was the worst, mostly 'cause i wasn't used to the sensation yet."

She also had felt especially nervous about letting Alpha stab her repeatedly with a needle, which in all honesty was probably just her survival instinct kicking in, reasonably so. Now though, after hours under the fire ghoul's needle, she has no further apprehension than what any person about to be subjected to various graphically detailed rants about either Pebble's or Secondo's sexual prowess while ink is pushed under their skin has any right to be.

Ifrit hums, hands swift and efficient under Omega's watchful's gaze. They chat idly for a little while, Clicks feeling herself relax more and more. She can still feel that knot pulling at her muscles, but she doesn't feel like an elastic about to snap anymore, so that's nice.

When Omega gets up with a grunt, apparently satisfied by Ifrit's work, and gently shoos him away to take his place, the fire ghoul sinks to the floor, sitting cross-legged on the discarted pillows right by the bed, absent midedly picking up one of the crow plushies, smoothing its wings out. His head goes to rest on the mattress, right by Clicks', eyes crinckled in the corners. She finds she's glad he's staying, and sloppily drapes her tail around his shoulders with a chuff.

Omega warns her he's about to start by rubbing a small circle above still tensed muscles, silently urging her to brace herself. The sensation of quintessence slowly invading her body, seeping into her muscles and manually forcing the knots to come loose is strange, even if it does elicit a relieved groan from Clicks. She's glad Omega had the forethought of asking Ifrit for help, or else she might've tensed up and ruin the process. As it is, she only squirms slightly, before sighing as finally, finally, her back stops being just an agglomeration of radiating pains. She kicks off her purr, the two other ghouls joining her quickly.

Omega's hand carefully brushes her neck, thumb gentle against what he can reach of the thick scar running jaggedly across her throat, edge just peaking on the side in her position. It's an absent-minded gesture, a guilt-ridden one that despite Clicks reassurances, he never shook off. A "butchered work" Omega had once called that scar, with its uneven width and the hundreds of tiny bolts-like stretch mark around it, where the skin was haphazardly pulled taunt by quintessence in an effort to close the wound as quickly as possible.

No matter how many times Clicks assured him that he did his best, that if he hadn't reacted in less than a heartbeat when she appeared on the altar, throat cut open, choking with her own blood, she would have been as dead as she was left for in the pit, mere moments before being summoned, Omega still pets her scar without realizing it. Like his careful touch could somehow erase the mark of the most terrifying experience in Clicks' life.

Truthfully, she has a complicated relationship with this scar. On one hand, everytime her eyes catch sight of it in the mirror, Clicks is taken back to the screams of agony of her pack, to the searing pain, to the horror of feeling her strenght leave her at the same alarming pace as her blood, to the torture of seeing the light fade from beloved eyes without being able to do anything. To losing all the important people in her life, her pack of outcast, her chosen family, all at once. To the panic, the scrambling to try and move, breath, live.

But it is also the proof she survived. And if sometimes she hates that she did while her packmates' remains lay somewhere in the pit, she also learnt a long time ago never to apologize for her resilience. She knows without a doubt that her departed loved ones would be proud of her, for not letting a pack of blood thirsty demons destroy her, nor the grief they caused. Clicks is here, alive, and the scar cutting through her throat is a reminder that she won't go down without one hell of a fight.

Lost in her thoughts, she startles when Ifrit nudges her elbow, Omega getting off the bed to slide down next to him, the both of them sitting by Clicks' bed, features soft and open in the low light. Ifrit is still petting the plushie.

"Better ?" Omega asks as Clicks carefully rolls her shoulders and, pleased to find neither tightness nor pain, arches into a long, satisfying stretch.

"Fuuuuck, yes. Don't know how I can thank you."

Omega chuckles, eyes full of the same protective affection she always find there, extending an arm to scratch the base of her horns.

"You can thank me by stretching your wings before putting them to work and not being overzealous, or else we'll have done all that in vain."

Clicks huffs good-naturedly, narrowing all her eyes at him.

"Are you trying to guilt trip me into taking care of myself ?"

"Is it working ?"

Clicks shoves him lazily. The bastard doesn't move an inch. She turns to Ifrit then, surprised to find fondness already squeezing at her heart when he let her grab his jaw, even leaning into it.

"Seriously. You barely know me, you didn't had to-"

"I'm happy to, anytime you need."

Urgh, he's so eagerly honest about it, too. Clicks watches his thick eyelashes flutter, eyes big and almost doe-like as he looks up at her, and she sighs internally. She definitely has a type.

They stay, for a little while, chatting idly until their yawns and droopy eyes can't be ignored any more. Omega kisses Clicks' forehead before leaving, not without making her promise to come find him if her back flares up again. Ifrit, after squeezing her arm in goodbye, lingers in the doorway, looking back at Clicks somehow hopefully.

"So...I'll see you around ?"

Clicks can feel her eyes crinckle in the corners when she nods in answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, you'll definitely see me."

The fire ghoul perks up, tail wagging - and promptly knocking against the doorframe.

"And, Ifrit ?" Clicks adds, chuckling lightly, "can I get my plushie back ?"

Ifrit looks down, red-faced, at the little crow still craddled in his arms.

"Oh, of course, sorry."

He lays it by Clicks head, earning a chuff and a wave as he closes the door behind him. Clicks' chest feels more full and warm than it had been for a long while when she finds herself alone again.

(Two days later, Ifrit finds a brand new crow plushie with red little devil horns on its head waiting for him on his pillow, while Omega is greeted by a book he'd been meaning to get for a while layed on his desk.)

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

You know, I'm glad that some of us take the step to embrace things that we like even if they're "cringe" or "objectively bad"

But perhaps we could take the next step forward and embrace the idea of reading into books/shows/movies/etc even if they don't seem deep. Perhaps we could understand that the two kinds of media aren't either "shallow and meaningless so you're weird and brainrotted to read into it" or "incredibly and profoundly deep in every way so if you don't analyze every single angle of the thing then you're brainrotted". Some media is deeper than others, but all I propose is that no matter how deep it seems it's acceptable to dig into the thing and take the media seriously instead of just assuming that because of ____ thing (such as target audience or how cringe it is) the media not deep and will never be deep and everything good about it happened on accident.

[shrikeseams]

My two-ingredient depression meal of choice is a packet of pre-seasoned thai chili tuna plus heat stabilized microwave rice. Add sriracha or hot sauce of choice if you like that kinda thing, which makes it taste more like spicy and less like heat stabilization. But I've also been making a fancier version lately that a friend started calling comfort tuna: 1 packet pre-seasoned thai chili tuna (don't like spicy? pick another pre-seasoned packet flavor.) Freshly made rice rice vinegar soy sauce sesame oil sriracha or other hot sauce There is no reason not to add veggies! frozen or microwave-steamed would be fine.

Make your rice, scoop it hot into a bowl you want to eat out of, dump in the (room temp) tuna and additional seasonings to taste. Mix it up and eat. (If you already have leftover rice and don't wanna make more just throw all the ingredients in a pan and stir-fry it until it has crispy bits.)

Do any of u have decent recipes that are like 5 ingredients (not including spices) and take 45 mins or less to prepare i gotta stop eating sandwiches for dinner

[demarogue]

Gettin' Through the Holidays Mental Health Tricks

If y'all are anything like me, this time of year is triggering AF. Here are some small, very easy grounding exercises that I was taught by my therapist, basically in order of how much I like them for this rage-inducing season. You make like them in a different order, depending on your rage-to-despair ratio.

Push a wall: literally go up to a wall and try to push it over. Really try. I promise you won't push it over, but give it your best shot. Try to hold it as long as you can, and then take a breather and assess whether you need to repeat. Why it works: This is a quick, physical expulsion of the fight-or-flight feeling. It's a bit like punching a wall, but without the potential to hurt yourself/look scary/damage things. You can even do it in front of people and say you're stretching, they'll never know (unless the wall actually falls down, but this will not happen, I assure you).

Shake like a dog: Animals shake to release stress, and you are also an animal. Setting aside time to just shake it out, as vigorously as you can, arms and legs, face, stick your tongue out, pretend you're shaking like a wet dog. You can dance instead, if that feels better, and you can do this to music, but basically the more unhinged you can be, the better. If you are in a place you can scream, scream too! Why it works: like the above, this is a release of pent-up stress and anxiety. Especially if your rage-to-woe ratio is high, some kind of physical exertion is often the best way to burn through the cortisol and adrenaline you're building up.

Bilateral Tapping: Cross your arms over your chest so that your fingertips are at your shoulders, and slowly tap, one hand at a time, back and forth, for about a minute. Breathe slowly. Why it works: This is weird as hell, but because this engages both sides of your brain, it helps override the activity of the amygdala, which is the part of your brain that Makes The Fear. If you're being literally triggered in a situation, i.e. you're having a trauma response, or reliving some family trauma, this is a good one.

Box Breathing: From a comfortable position (can really be seated, laying down or standing), inhale slowly for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, exhale for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, then repeat. You can do it for shorter counts or longer counts, but if you vary the counts make sure the exhale is longer than the inhale. You can close your eyes or leave them open. Why it works: This exercise helps you move from a sympathetic (activated) nervous system response to a parasympathetic (balanced) response. I do this one every day, and it's a good gateway to meditation. Especially helpful in anxious or tense situations, but I find if I'm very triggered I need one of the other ones first, or it can make anxiety worse. Breathwork is amazing but not usually as a first exercise if you're very activated, or have been activated a long time.

Ice: Lots of ways to do this one – hands in cold water for 30 seconds, ice pack on the back of your neck, dip your entire face into a bowl of ice water (this one's the most effective). Why it works: I kinda think this is hilarious, but this activates your mammalian dive reflex. It immediately slows your heart-rate, so if you are feeling your blood pressure and heart rate rising, this one is very good. The only reason this one's at the bottom of my list is because I hate being cold.

I wish you all a very get-through-the-holidays-without-hurting-yourself. Take time alone if you need it.

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[ghstzzn]

helping hand

pairing: bsf!lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: heeseung had an unusual ritual before every competition as a professional league of legends player. one that his ex-girlfriend could no longer fulfill for him, leaving him desperate enough to ask for your help as his best friend.

tags/warnings: SMUT! MDNI! barely proofread lol, heeseungs a professional gamer… idk shit about that tho, you’re his best friend, league of legend mention, oral (m. rec), face fucking, deepthroating obv, praise? heeseung whimpers and whines here and there, name calling bc he calls her a perv hehe, reader touches herself and orgasms bc of his whimpering, cum swallowing, first time writing JUST a blowjob & ball fondling hehe and more probably! [3.3k words]

🖤: im so scared this was only supposed to be like 1k words but i cant shut the fuck up ever.

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

it’s been awhile since you’ve had heeseung linger around your apartment for hours or even days like this. between his time spent with his now ex girlfriend and his professional gaming career, you had rarely seen him. only relying on occasional short lunch meetings or quick coffee runs.

it’s not that his ex disliked you, but more so disliked that you and heeseung happened to be an extremely attractive pair of friends and hated that people would confuse you both as a couple rather than heeseung and her.

you missed your best friend, and it comforted you that he returned those feelings. 

before heeseung had stepped foot into a relationship with his ex, he would spend half of his time at your apartment. especially when he had a competition that was near. 

“are you nervous?” you ask him, watching as he packs little things he left at your apartment into a small suitcase for the gaming league. it was only one city away but these sorts of things take an entire weekend. 

heeseung hums, “i’m confident.” you know he’s not lying either. there’s not much you know about gaming, or specifically, league of legends—but according to your mutual friends, heeseung seems to be a god at the game. yet, he seemed so antsy about something.

“so what are you gonna do about your little pre-competition ritual,” you hope to lighten his mood, easing him of whatever that was on his mind.

“what ritual?”

you clear your throat, “oh, um. your blowjob ritual..?”

the question was asked in a light hearted way, but heeseung didn’t react in such a way at all. the ritual, as you called it, was something heeseung accidentally created a few years ago when he had first gone pro. his situationship at the time gave him head right before he left as a sexy goodluck and a reminder of what he had waiting for him when he got back, but that day he had carried and won the competition for his entire team. 

the next year after that he had gotten with his girlfriend and had shyly asked her to suck him off, to which she agreed and it had officially become a routine for every competition, including smaller, less meaningful ones.

“you okay, hee?” 

“can i ask you something?” he suddenly speaks up, voice way louder than he intended, causing the both of you to cringe at the volume. “s-sorry.. i just need to ask you something.”

you nod slowly, “yeah, anything. is everything okay?”

heeseung thinks for a few moments before speaking again, “it’s a little personal and it’s okay if you are uncomfortable with this and you absolutely do not have to say yes but i need to at least ask you.”

“heeseung just say it.”

“can you give me a blowjob before my competition this weekend?”

your reaction comes in three stages. the both of you stare at each other in silence for about three minutes before you burst out in laughter, which also lasts about three more minutes. but when you see heeseungs panicked expression, you go silent again.

“wait… seriously?” 

heeseung swallows before shaking his head timidly. he debated laughing along with you and passing it off as a complete joke but he felt the need to follow through. the room is silent again. your fingers subconsciously play with the zipper on his suitcase as you think about the question he just proposed to you. 

your best friend, whom you’ve experienced half your life with, just asked you if you could give him head before one of his league of legends competitions.

what was the right answer here?

“you.. you don't have to,” heeseungs heart feels like it’s about to fall out of his chest. why on earth would he ask such a thing to his only female friend? no less, his best friend.

it was a joke. yeah, a joke! oh my god, why would i ask that, you pervert! you should’ve seen your face! you guys joke like this all the time, this is no different. he could totally play this off coolly. 

“it’s fucking stupid, i know. but it seriously helps me and you know she would do it for me everytime.” he begins rambling without even realizing it. the air is so thick you would have to take a chainsaw to it. “y-you aren’t her, yeah, but i don’t know—it genuinely gets me through the competitions.”

heeseung lets out a shaky breath, “just forget it. ignore what i said.”

“well, no heeseung,” you cut him off, “i can’t just forget that you seriously asked me something like that.”

“please don’t make this awkward. you can say no and we can forget this happened.”

you could tell heeseung wanted to rip his tongue out, and to see your best friend this distressed over something so silly made you want to drop everything and get rid of those feelings for him. 

“i mean, i never said no, did i..?” 

heeseung looks up, meeting your gaze with a shocked expression, “what?”

“yeah,” you nod, “it doesn’t hurt to think about it, right? it’s not like you’re asking me to completely fuck you—a blowjob wouldn’t hurt us right? especially if it’s going to help you.”

he blinks. heeseung might think you’re going insane, and he’s the one that asked you for the blowjob. no way you were actually considering this for him.

what did he do in his past life to gain such a supportive, pretty best friend.

“so… you’ll think about it?” your best friend's voice is quiet when he asks, like he’s scared to speak up any louder. “like, seriously?”

“yeah,” nodding your head, you flash him a reassuring smile. agreeing to suck off your friend before his professional video game competition, a totally normal request.

when heeseung leaves your apartment, you immediately cuss yourself out. why the fuck would you practically agree to that? 

but when you think about telling the boy no, your heart cracks. why? you don’t know. but what you do know is that you would rather die than look at his big sad brown eyes when you tell him you can't give him a special blowjob for his special day.

you were no pro at sucking dick, but you were dedicated to this friendship.

heeseung bounced his leg with nervousness and anticipation. you texted him that you were on the way to his hotel, which would’ve been normal and completely fine considering you attend all of his comps, but today was different.

you never answered his question.

he wonders if maybe you forgot about it. he also hopes you didn’t forget. ever since he asked you the big question, heeseung couldn’t get you out of his mind.

every night leading up to today, he’d lie awake staring at his ceiling trying to push every image of you sitting pretty between his legs out of his mind. the feeling of his cock hardening to the thought of you made him want to dive out of the nearest window.

it’s not like he didn’t think you were hot or that the idea of being intimate with you disgusted him, but it’s the fact that he promised to never be like every other guy.

the two of you were very close. from cuddling while watching movies to holding hands in a crowded area to heeseung beating up creepy men at dive bars for you—you both had a tight knit friendship. and he always promised that he would never cross that line. he might be a total loser but he liked to consider himself a gentleman at the same time.

that day, he did. yet you were still attending something that meant the world to him when you could’ve told him to fuck off and die.

four knocks at the door rips heeseung away from his thoughts.

with sweaty hands and knees that felt like jelly, heeseung grips the door knob and opens it, plastering the fakest smile he could muster up. “hey.” did his voice crack? fuck my life. 

“hi!” you hold up two bags filled with a variety of snacks with a large smile on your face, “i brought some stuff for this weekend.”

he clears his throat and steps to the side, letting you enter his hotel room. heeseung averts his gaze to the ceiling as you walk by him, afraid of letting his eyes stay on you–what if he accidentally looks at your ass?

“what time does it start today?” you ask, completely unaware of the emotional distress your male best friend was going through. so nonchalant and unmoving. maybe you did forget afterall. 

heeseung takes a seat at the desk in his hotel room, where he had a temporary p.c. set up in case he needed a practice game. “uhh, it’s at six this time.”

“jeez… you guys won't be leaving until late then.” you glance at the clock and back to him. he has to leave very soon. how do you casually start giving your best friend a blowjob within the next fifteen minutes.

“yeah, you know of all people that these things can go for hours. you’re gonna be there for the last few rounds right?”

you nod, wondering if heeseung could notice the way you’re practically gawking at him. was he always this hot? it’s stupid question when you’re fully aware of how attractive heeseung was and currently is. maybe it was the way he was dressed up for his competition tonight, or the way he leaned back on his hands and spread his legs comfortably. 

the baggy black hoodie that you knew he was wearing by itself with nothing underneath paired with his baggy jeans that sat so perfectly on his hips. you were fully aware that you were checking out your best friend. he’s fucking hot, why else would you agree to do any of this?

you wonder if he’s thought about this as much as you have. is he nervous? is he vocal? how long does it take for him to get hard and how big is he?

“hey,” you don’t know where the confidence is coming from, but you find yourself kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees, “you’re gonna do great and win this. like you always do. i’ll make sure of it.”

heeseung almost chokes on his own spit when you suddenly slip between his legs, “wha- what are you doing..?”

“did you not want my help? or did you forget?” you ask him, genuine confusion. “i-if you already-”

“no!” heeseung cuts you off, grabbing your hand with his. “i mean, i still do. i just didn’t think you were down.”

you rub your other hand up his thigh, fingers mere centimeters away from his crotch area. so close to where he needs you, yet so far. “of course i am. what good are best friends if they can’t help each other out?”

heeseungs breath hitches when your hand grazes the zipper of his jeans. he lets go of your other hand and you take it as a cue to keep going.

“just let me take care of you, hee.”

and for the first time ever, that nickname made his cock twitch.

just the view he had of you sitting pretty between his thighs, hesitant but still full of confidence as you softly palmed him through his jeans was enough for him to be leaking.

“can i…” you ask quietly, fingers on the button of his jeans. he nods once and gulps as you immediately pop the button open and move to the zipper. it feels like hours before you’re finally pulling his jeans down below his hips. 

you can’t lie and say the bulge of his hardening cock, covered by his calvin kleins, wasn’t making your mouth water. you push his hoodie up slightly, the way your cold fingertips hit his lower stomach as you grab the waistband of his boxers has his stomach tensing under your touch. you let out a small gasp when his cock almost springs out of his boxers.

your best friend is packing. 

heeseung almost chuckles when he catches your reaction. 

“don’t laugh.”

“i’m not.”

“i can see it!” you argue back.

heeseung rolls his eyes, “please just continue.” 

“i won't if you keep up that attitude. you know we have less than fifteen minutes.” you retort after hearing him scoff. 

“i can miss rehearsals.”

“heeseu-”

“god, please let me just fuck your mouth.”

oh my god? were you supposed to be turned on? you bite your lip and look down in his lap, taking his cock in your hand with a soft but firm grip. you lean forward and let spit slowly drip from your mouth as you start pumping him. 

heeseung lets out a quiet groan and you look up at him—wide eyes that are practically asking, is this good? you continue to gently fist his cock, getting him nice and hard before you start using your mouth on his. 

“i hope you win.” is all you say before you kiss his tip and sink your mouth onto him.

the boy is practically seeing stars. you just started and he’s already moaning like a bitch. it felt so good, he can’t rip his gaze from you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly and your cheeks hollow out as you literally suck him in. 

“fuck, like that…” his hand finds sanctuary wrapped around your hair, not yet pushing you down on his cock completely, but more so as guidance. 

you let go out his cock with a pop and continue pumping him with your fist, licking the underside of his base as you make direct eye contact. he lets out a groan and lets his head fall back.

“you don’t have to hold back heeseung,” you mumble, but the lust was evident in your tone. “don’t be gentle, this is for you.”

“holy fuck, don’t say that.” you giggle at his response and smile against his tip before taking him back into your mouth. heeseung grips your hair tighter and pushes you further down his cock per your request. he can hear you inhale deeply through your nose as you attempt to take all of him. but of course you can’t. 

you stroke what you can’t fit and let heeseungs hand guide you up and down his cock. he uses all self control to not thrust into your mouth. heeseung hisses through his teeth every time your lips tighten around the tip of his dick, feeling somewhat more sensitive than he usually is. 

a guttural moan rips from his throat when your hand comes up to squeeze his balls, offering a helping hand in making him cum soon. time was ticking. but heeseung did not care whatsoever, especially after that move.

he almost wishes he knew how fucking good you were at giving head before all of this. your mouth was so warm, wet and tight around his cock–he was in heaven. heeseung genuinely thinks this is one of the best blowjobs he’s ever gotten. his hips buck, suddenly pushing his cock deep inside of your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. you cough around his cock in surprise but it only spurs your best friend on.

maybe it was the fact that you’re his best friend. sure, it’s not taboo by any means, but there are lines that are never to be crossed in these sorts of relationships–holy shit, heeseung was on cloud 9. 

“oh my god,” he whines, “you’re so good at this. fuck–god, don’t stop.”

his words, his moans, his whines–they all send tingles down your spine and straight to your core. you can’t deny the throb in your cunt though. 

you continue to squeeze and fondle his balls as you let heeseung completely guide your head deeper onto his cock, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth halfway. your other hand grips his thigh, keeping you stable and relaxed as he abuses your throat with the head of his cock. 

the groan that leaves your mouth when he tugs your hair tighter is accidental, you look up at heeseung. he looks beautiful like this. a pink blush across his cheeks, damp forehead, and hazy eyes. you were surely dripping through your panties now. 

“yeah? you like t-this too, huh?” heeseung spits out. now you’re almost jealous of every woman he’s managed to pull, because fuck did that just turn you on even more. “want me to use your mouth however i want?”

you moan in response, nodding your head. heeseung lets out a long exhale as he shoves your head down his cock again. tears line your eyes and threaten to spill over, trying to relax your throat to take him completely. 

“y-you’re taking me so good, y’know that? so good, baby.”

immediately, your hand that was once on heeseungs thigh is making its way down and into your shorts. you were soaked. 

heeseung lets out another choked moan when he notices your hand in your shorts, circling your clit as you let him fuck your throat. how badly he also wishes you would just take those stupid shorts off and let him see exactly what you’re doing, he yearns to see you play with yourself one day. 

“playing with yourself while you let me use this pretty mouth…” heeseung groans, lifting your head for a mere second before pushing you down his cock again. your hand tightens around his balls and he almost whimpers at the sensation. “you like this just as much, fucking pervert.”

you let out a whine, tears falling down your cheeks, you were already so close.

heeseung gets rougher, guiding your head much faster than before. your lips were burning and there was spit completely covering your other hand. but still, you continue to suck and lick at his cock as if it were your last meal, letting him force his way down your throat. 

“‘m so close. so fucking close.” now you're both whimpering. “fuckfuckfuck, gonna cum soon, baby. keep going, please, hah–you feel so fucking good.”

his words were enough for you to hit your peak, an orgasm washing through your body immediately. you’re squirming and whining, sending vibrations down heeseungs cock. 

“ah, fuck,” he continues to let words fall out of his mouth in the form of broken moans, “y-yeah, ‘ts so good. feels so good.” heeseung suddenly pushes your head all the way down, your nose making contact with the soft hair as the base of his cock, and he cums. 

thick, hot ropes of cum covering the back of your throat. you’re gagging and choking at the full feeling, wanting to pull back so badly, but he doesn’t stop–not until he’s milked dry. 

after what feels like an eternity, he lets go and you pull back, gasping and coughing but swallowing most of his cum in the process. your hands fly to your neck as you massage it and catch your breath.

heeseung on the other hand was breathing heavily. that was the best orgasm he’s ever had.

“holy fuck.”

you look up at the male, who seemed like he was about to pass out, “hee, you have to go.” your voice is raspy and weak. 

“i can’t.” he responds, out of breath. “that was amazing. i can’t move.”

you stand up and pull him up with you, balancing him when he stumbles forward. “seriously, you have to go now.” now you’re putting his cock away for him, he hisses loudly at the feeling but you ignore it and zip up his jeans. “now.”

heeseung sighs and looks down at you, “did you.. get off like that?”

you tighten your lips and nod hesitantly.

“god. god, you’re amazing.” he breathes out, wanting nothing more than to throw you down on the bed and fuck you until he physically cannot. “please, please be here when i get back, i’m literally begging you.”

you nod at him, reassuring him that you’ll be here when he’s done as you usher him out of the hotel room. “i will, hee. just go.” you suppose this is what best friends are for after all.

“and do not show up to the comp tonight or i will be hard the entire fucking time.”

[skywalkerslvt]

Rough Ride (so rough)

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: What happens when you have to sit on Leon's lap for a very long and bumpy car ride? Leon's pants get soaked 😍

❥CW: 18+, smut, sub!leon, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, crying kink, semi-public sex, sorta non-con at first? but both parties are consenting, 1.6k words

❥a/n: can you guys tell how much I like dry humping from the amount of times it shows up in all my fics? anyways RE2 Leon is so subby i need to make him cry so I wrote this. Also my requests are open if any of u leon sluts wanna request something 👀 Hope you guys enjoy! <3 pics are from pinterest

Leon Kennedy was utterly fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He was approximately one hour into the grand camping trip that your shared group of friends had planned, and it was already off to a bumpy start.

It started with the excessive amount of luggage you and Claire had decided to pack. The trunk was bursting at the seams, and the backseat was already crammed with more than it could reasonably hold, leaving the driver seat, the passenger seat, and a single seat in the back free for its intended use.

With Chris driving and Claire staking her claim on the passenger seat, that left you and Leon with the single seat to share.

And when you whispered a seductive “I guess we’ll have to make do,” with a mischievous glint in your eye, Leon knew he was done for.

Before he could respond, he was shoved into the car, barely even registering that you were manoeuvring yourself into his lap, carefully trying to find a comfortable position.

At first, Leon was awkward. It wasn’t every day that the girl he had a massive crush on was situated on his lap, and especially not for a 2 hour long drive like this one. But as you leaned against him and whispered a soft “Relax,” he eventually settled in, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder.

The first hour was fine, enjoyable even. Leon had managed to stave off a massive boner, and everyone had been happy despite the luggage situation. But issues started to arise as Chris turned the car onto a bumpy gravel path in the woods.

“We’re gonna be on this trail for about an hour and then we'll be at our camping spot. It might get a bit bumpy,” Chris muttered quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister who had dozed off against the window.

As the car drove deeper into the forest, the road became more uneven, causing you to bounce slightly in Leon’s lap. His cock started to twitch, the boner he managed to avoid coming to as all his attention was focused on that single point where your ass was softly bouncing on his cock.

Leon was flushed head to toe, his teeth worrying his lower lip as the rate of his breathing increased. His cock was now fully hard and leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and by some miracle, you hadn't noticed. Needing to feel more friction, he pushed his hips up slightly, softly grinding his hard dick against your ass, playing it off as shifting to a more comfortable position. He felt like such a pervert, getting off against your ass while you were completely oblivious, but the weight of you on top of him felt too good to stop.

He had managed not to make a sound, harshly biting down against his surely bruised lip any time he felt like moaning, but when Chris hit a particularly hard bump, causing you to bounce harshly back into his cock, he let out a barely audible whimper, right against your neck.

Leon stiffened, panicking as he was sure he got caught. You were going to realize what he had been doing, and you'd think he was a disgusting pervert, never wanting to see him again.

But as you turned your head slightly, concern etched on your features, and asked him if he was okay, Leon went lax with relief. You didn’t know.

“Y-yeah- Sorry I was just startled by the bump,” he stammered out.

You smiled softly, seemingly unaware of the turmoil raging inside him. “It's okay. These roads are pretty rough. Just hold onto me if you need to, okay?”

Leon swallowed hard, nodding. “Sure, thanks.” You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then turned back around and shifted your hips, moving in a more comfortable position. Leon’s hold around your waist tightened and his dick twitched at the feeling of you moving against him.

The car continued to jostle along the uneven path, each bump sending another wave of sensation through Leon’s body. He tried to focus on anything else–the trees whipping past outside, the sound of Chris humming along to the radio, the soft snores of Claire asleep in the front–but his mind kept coming back to the warmth and pressure of you against his twitching cock.

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Leon shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would ease his arousal. It was useless. Every movement, every slight adjustment only heightened the friction, the pressing of your body against him his own personal torture.

Minutes felt like hours as the car bumped along the trail, each jolt a reminder of the situation Leon found himself in. To make matters worse, you began shifting, unknowingly pushing your ass against his cock continuously, and Leon couldn't help himself. He just had to cum, so he began grinding against you again, timing his thrusts with your shifting.

He closed his eyes as his thrusts got sloppier, the building heat in his gut reaching its peak. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, and he was careless with his sounds, his heavy breathing against your neck becoming louder and louder.

Leon's body tensed, and with a muffled groan, he came, his cock twitching as he spilled into his pants. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the car continued to jostle along the path, your ass still bouncing in his lap, overstimulating his already sensitive cock.

His breathing grew ragged, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the friction becoming unbearable, and he bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his whimpers.

Despite the overstimulation, the continued friction of your ass bouncing against him caused his cock to twitch and harden once more, much to his confusion and frustration. The sensations were too much to handle; his body was a mess of sensitivity and arousal, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to spill down his cheeks.

Leon's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the overstimulation blending into a desperate need for more. His hips involuntarily thrust upward, seeking more friction, even though it was torturous. Each bounce of your ass pushed him closer to the edge again, and he couldn't understand how he could be this turned on despite having just cum.

Minutes felt like hours, and Leon's body was on the brink of collapse. The continued friction, combined with his heightened sensitivity, pushed him to the edge once more. He tried to stay silent, but soft whimpers escaped his lips, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you, desperate and needy.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you turned your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips.

The realization hit him like a freight train—you knew. You had known all along. Your smirk widened as you watched him, your eyes dark with arousal.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "You've been such a good boy, Leon."

Leon's breath hitched, his body trembling as your words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. He was overwhelmed, his senses on overdrive as you licked the tears from his face, your tongue tracing a path along his cheek.

Without warning, you began grinding against him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated cock. Leon's hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to hold on.

"You like this, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. "Getting hard again so soon after cumming. Such a needy boy."

Leon could only nod, his voice failing him as you continued to grind against him, each movement sending him spiraling further into a state of desperate arousal. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

Your pace quickened, and Leon's breath came in short, ragged gasps. Each grind of your hips sent jolts of pleasure through his overstimulated body, and he clung to you as if you were his lifeline. His tears mingled with sweat, his entire world narrowing down to the intoxicating friction and your teasing whispers in his ear.

With a final, deliberate roll of your hips, you sent him over the edge again. Leon's body convulsed, his cries muffled against your shoulder as he came for the second time, his cock throbbing and spilling more cum into his already-soaked pants. His tears of overstimulation turned to tears of overwhelming pleasure, his entire being consumed by the raw, intense sensations. You held him tightly, a satisfied smirk on your lips as you licked away his tears, savoring the sweet taste of his submission.

As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.

Leaning in close, you kissed him tenderly, a silent promise of many more games to come. In that moment, Leon knew he was utterly and completely yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Chris hadn't even fully parked before Leon threw you off his lap and bolted for the door. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and he mumbled a halfhearted excuse about needing to use the washroom, doing his best to conceal the completely soaked front of his pants. As he disappeared inside, you couldn't help but laugh softly, the image of his flustered expression etched in your mind. You exchanged a knowing glance with Claire, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling innocently, you shrugged, already anticipating the next opportunity to tease Leon further.

[lotusbxtch]

Juno

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader Word count: 2.2k (lol this was supposed to be a drabble) Rating: Explicit - 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your honeymoon with Joel is off to a bang.

Warnings/tags: honeymoon sex (it’s very feral), unprotected PIV sex (they’re trying to get pregnant but be smart IRL!), oral sex (m and f receiving), big fat breeding kink, pussy pronouns, creampie, cumplay, mentions of foreplay over the clothes, sort-of/accidental voyeurism, very loud sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage/family planning/birth control use, dom!Joel, feral!Joel, references to pregnancy, no outbreak!AU, cursing (but honestly swear words should be the least of your worries for this story lol), Reader is female, has hair that is long enough to put into a ponytail, and able bodied but otherwise not described (it’s you, boo!), no use of y/n

a/n: This is what happens when a horny invasive thought is allowed to take root in my brain. My darling menace @for-a-longlongtime sent me this Reel and it made me… think about things. Combined with the inspiration of the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, this is FILTH. Just… filth. But since @mountainsandmayhem and @alltheirdamn literally begged me to write this, here you are, written in a near-fugue state. Not beta’d, we’re doing this thing unprotected, just like Joel lmao. Banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

a/n pt 2: psssssst. Do you like Joel Miller? Do you want *more* Joel Miller? How about a series where not only Joel is your husband, but Frankie is your boyfriend? If so, tap here for SoCal to NorCal, my ongoing series!

I should have closed that damn sliding door.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you stepped foot into the immaculate, stylish Greek vacation suite you’d booked for your honeymoon with your new husband, Joel Miller. You’d spent the long flight teasing each other incessantly - the lightest of caresses, lingering kisses, surreptitious groping and heavy petting under the luxe blankets afforded to you by your first class seats. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you most days, but now, fresh from your beautiful wedding as his darling wife? He was absolutely insatiable.

Joel had barely shut the front door on the endlessly kind bellhop before he was on you, ravenous with desire. His large hands began peeling off the soft layers of clothing you’d worn on the airplane, kissing you fervently and moaning into your mouth. You wove your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly when he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, and you felt him growl lowly before nipping at your pulse point.

“Been waiting hours to take you apart, baby,” he murmured. Sucking a hickey onto the column of your throat, he laved the spot with his tongue to soothe the light pain. “Teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You pulled back on his hair with a yank, making him hiss. “You asked for it. You were the one rubbing circles against my clit through my sweatpants. My panties are ruined because of it.”

“Not my fault your pussy is so juicy,” Joel chuckled. “Especially now that she knows she’s gonna getting dicked down as many times as she can take it in a day.”

A couple months before your wedding, you and Joel discussed your desire to start trying for children. You’d thrown away your birth control after that conversation, but resolved to use other forms of protection until after the wedding.

You nor Joel had packed a single condom for this trip.

“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you breathed, moving your hand from his hair down his body to his rock-hard cock. He groaned when you made contact.

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Miller,” Joel hummed, walking your naked body backwards towards the bedroom as you pulled at his clothes.

Now, you’re realizing that the sliding door to the ocean-view balcony is cracked open, allowing a lovely coastal breeze in but also letting your cries of pleasure float into the wind. Joel’s face is buried in your drenched pussy from behind you, his slurps and smacks obscene, not to mention his moans of ecstasy at the taste of your juices. You lay your chest onto the bed and take it - that’s all you can really do. You’re trying to stifle your sighs and moans, but your husband’s expert tongue is making that increasingly difficult.

“Oh god, right there,” you whimper, and your first orgasm of the day rolls through your body slowly, unfurling like the fragrant blossoms in the white-washed courtyard of the villa. He continues moaning and lapping up every drop of your essence while your body shakes.

One more hard suck on your clit, and then Joel is pulling you back onto your hands and knees on the plush cream bedding. He crawls towards your body, grabbing your hips with one warm hand while the other loosely grips his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds. 

You whine. “Please, Joel.” You’re not above begging when it comes to Joel’s cock.

Joel growls in arousal and begins to feed you his length, inch by inch. You bite your lip, trying to quiet the involuntary moans that the stretch of his girth seem to rip out of your throat. The villa is private, but you still have neighbors - you’d rather not have to face them at the dinner buffet later after they heard exactly how well your honeymoon was going so far.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Joel praises you, his eyes never leaving how good his length looks sawing in and out of your soft pussy, shiny with your slick. The phrasing makes your cunt clench on him, which nearly shoves him off the proverbial ledge. He throws his head back, attempting to collect himself, and then notices you drawing circles around your aching clit. 

“Desperate to come again already?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at you. You nod your head, pressing harder and swirling faster around your nub. 

“Then fucking come for your husband,” Joel grits out, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. On the last word, you explode yet again, burying your mouth in the crook of your elbow to quiet your cries. Your pussy spasms over his length, nearly sending him over the edge, and you’re absolutely gushing for him, slick and juices running down your thighs.

Joel yanks himself out of your body, not ready to come yet. You cry out in disappointment, but he hauls him and yourself up off the bed.

“Kneel,” he commands. You drop to your knees onto the plush sheepskins rug, legs like jelly already. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, coated with the evidence of your orgasm. Your mouth opens and you drop out your tongue like a welcome mat.

Joel nearly comes at the sight before him.

“Suck,” he says simply. Grabbing your hair into a ponytail, Joel guides your blazing hot mouth onto his shaft, controlling the speed of your blowjob with his hands. He tries to avoid thrusting into your throat too hard, but he knows you like it rough. The taste of your own pussy is all over his dick, and it makes you dizzy with need.

You play the good girl, sucking and licking as directed by Joel’s moans and hand, but soon enough he’s hauling you off your feet to put you back onto the bed. His cock is an angry red color at the tip now, precum continuing to bubble out of the slit. 

“Wanna try out something new,” he mutters, laying you down on your back. He pushes your legs to your shoulders, nearly folding you in half, and guides your hands to the back of your thighs to hold them open. You feel so exposed, but it makes a thrill run up your spine. Joel kneels with his knees just under your ass, leaning over you, before taking his hand and running it through your soaked folds, reveling in the filthy wet sounds your center makes for him. You whine, desperate for more. Joel places your calves on his shoulders as he leans forward, caging you with his body. One hand drops to the bed to steady himself, while the other grabs his cock and lines himself up again.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You smile wickedly back, knowing what you need to say to egg him on. “Can’t say I have. Wasn’t exactly trying to get bred.”

You see Joel’s eyes flash at the last word, a ferality burning in his irises. A near-snarl erupts from his mouth as he bottoms out in one powerful thrust. A loud moan rips from your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, remembering the balcony door is still open. Joel shoves your hand away, grinding deeper into your cunt, brushing against your cervix. You can barely breathe with the intensity of pleasure racing in your veins.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back home, eliciting another loud cry from you. “If you wanna be bred so bad, I’m gonna make everyone at this resort know exactly how much you want it.” With that, Joel sets a punishing pace, his hips and balls slapping against your slick skin. The wet sounds of your mutual pleasure ricochet through the room, and probably outdoors. In this position, all you can do is lay there and moan and cry and take it. Your pussy continues seeping slick, wave after wave running down your ass and thighs, dampening the heavenly bedding.

You’ve never been so fucking wet in your entire life, and Joel knows it.

“God, this pussy is so fucking juicy for me, huh? Just want to get bred that bad, huh?” He mutters to you as he fucks into you so deep that you nearly feel him in your throat. You’ve long since lost your ability to silence your noises, a steady stream of loud gasps and cries emanating from your mouth. Joel just feels so fucking good inside of you, and suddenly you start babbling.

“Yes, baby, I’m so fucking wet for you,” you moan, the pleasure coiling in your bones with every thrust of Joel’s thick girth inside you. “You’re so deep, you fill me so good, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stooooopppppppp –” Your words are cut off by a silent scream as you come for a third time. The pleasure shimmers across your limbs and a shaky moan finally snakes its way out of your throat.

He growls, fucking into you even harder. “Good fucking girl, let me hear you,” Joel grits out. He picks up his pace, clearly getting close to his own orgasm. The increase in speed releases a surprised scream from you, your loud cry stuttering from the sheer force of Joel’s thrusts into you. His hips are a blur, and your third orgasm begins to build into your fourth, the intensity ratcheted to new heights.

“That’s right, scream for me,” he moans, his thrusts getting erratic as his peak approaches. “Want me to fill up this messy pussy, get it even messier? Gonna fuck you so full it has no choice but to take.”

Joel’s words cause a riot of tingles to cascade across your skin. “Yes, please, fuck me full, Joel. Give me your cum, make it stick, give me a baby, please,” you cry, and Joel slaps your ass hard, and you scream again. There’s no doubt that everyone within a mile radius can hear the two of you, but your head is so full of pleasure that you really couldn’t care less. All you can think about is Joel, his cock, and how badly you want to be dripping with his cum.

“Oh god, honey, I’m gonna come,” Joel whimpers, and to send him over the edge, you clench down on his cock as hard as you can. He gasps. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna cooooooo–”

Joel shoves his cock as deeply into you as possible, bellowing loudly in ecstasy, triggering your own orgasm to crest at the same time. His release is so intense that it feels like his hot cum is jettisoning directly into your uterus, filling you to the brim. He pumps shallowly into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When the last spurt of his spend lands in your womb, Joel collapses on top of you, rolling you to the side, still buried within your clutch. Your sweat-slick limbs tangle as you both try to catch your breath. The gentle breeze flutters the curtains.

Everything feels hazy and perfect.

Eventually you come to, pressing kisses to Joel’s completely blissed-out face, eliciting a soft smile across his plush lips. You kiss your husband softly, slowly, and sensually. He gives your nose a peck, and then buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

“Fuck, that was…” Joel starts, lost for words to describe what just happened.

“... incredible,” you finish his sentence, beaming at him. You intertwine your fingers, so elated that Joel is really yours forever.

Joel nods and kisses you one more time, then moves to untangle your aching limbs, massaging your muscles with his strong hands. He pulls out of your messy center slowly with a groan, watching as his cum begins to seep out of you. You watch as he scoops away the runaway seed, pushing it back into your cunt. A brief flush of arousal pulses in your veins at the sight.

“Gotta keep it where it belongs,” Joel croons, winking at you as he walks towards the bathroom to rinse off and grab you a towel. You giggle, moving to prop your legs and hips up on your pillows, allowing his release to pool & settle inside you. The idea of finally having a baby with the love of your life makes your insides flutter with joy.

While you rest, you pull up Snapchat, curious to see what other fellow travelers are up to in the area. You tap around the map, watching stranger’s stories of sailing excursions, lounging on the shore, and eating delicious food. You notice a Snap story in the same vacation complex as your rental, and you tap on it excitedly, hoping to get a sense of some fun things to do in the area.

The video opens up in selfie mode as a blonde, sunglasses-wearing traveler records himself outside on his villa’s patio, laughing quietly and rubbing his arm awkwardly with the caption “Sounds like our new neighbors on holiday in Greece are having a whale of a time… Only been here 10 minutes!” In the background, a woman can be heard screaming with ecstasy, clearly having sex, her voice stuttering as whoever she’s fucking is giving it to her hard. You then hear a slap, then another cry of pleasure.

Wait a minute.

Not a slap… a spank.

Your nerves frost immediately and heat blazes up your neck as your mouth drops open, realizing that the couple having very loud sex… is actually you and Joel.

Oh no. 

...I REALLY should have closed that damn sliding door.

MASTERLIST

Tagging in case you, too, are horny for Joel (please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tags!): @mermaidgirl30 @sin-djarin @perotovar @qveerthe0ry @nerdieforpedro

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostempty @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave

@legendary-pink-dot @arcanefox207 @dancingtotuyo @musings-of-a-rose @milla-frenchy

@yopossum @polaroidpascal @chippedowlmug @magneticecstasy @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

pop that cherry

a/n: woop woop! here's the little slutty story that you guys voted for when i asked what you wanted to see happen next in this au ৎ୭

summary: “hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

warnings: camgirl!reader x various, pornstar!ari levinson, roommate!bucky barnes, porn director!bruce banner, smut, porn au, college au, reader’s porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), filming pornography, reader's first time doing professional porn, kissing, masturbation, toys, oral, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink (pornstar!ari is famous for his monster cock, you're welcome), belly bulge, manhandling, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, facial

word count: 3832

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

Curled up and melted on your mattress, you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone. Your puffy pussy, hidden between your still trembling thighs, clenched in dull soreness from the fuck machine frozen by your feet and still glistening from the show you’d put on only moments earlier. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” a familiar voice emanated from your doorway, “I didn’t know you were done streaming.”

Lazily blinking up at Bucky as he leaned against the frame, “yeah, just signed off a few minutes ago,” you exhaled, “did you just get home?” the question flowed from your lips and he swiftly nodded in confirmation, “how was class?” 

“Oh my god, don’t get me started,” your roommate let out a groan and pushed himself off the wall, his stride swiftly carrying him the short distance to where you laid and plopped himself down beside you.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you felt him press a slow peck to your exposed shoulder. 

“Do you need help lifting the toy back in the closet or–,” Bucky’s kind offer was then cut short by the shuttering gasp that suddenly crawled out of your lungs. 

“Oh my god,” your eyes grew to the size of saucers as you stared down at the message you’d opened on your phone, “oh my god!”

“What? What is it?” he propped himself up on a forearm to peek over your shoulder. 

“I–…” your eyes scanned the email wildly, “this can’t be real, right?” you cast a glance back at your friend. 

“Let me have a look,” and you swiftly handed him your phone before hearing him skim through it, “dear miss Cherry Blossom, bla, bla, bla… we here at Smash Studios really love your vibe and were wondering if you would ever consider doing professional pornography, because if so, then we would love to work with you,” his blue eyes flickered a moment longer over the screen before they fluttered up to meet yours, “no, I think it’s legit.”

“Holy shit…” you breathed, an airy giggle then bubbled out of you as this was quite the news to take in, even when one wasn’t still hazy from haven fucked one silly in front of hundreds of people. 

“You think you wanna do it?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous! And look right here, up there, yeah, that’s it…” 

Sharp clicks shuttered the camera and shot throughout the massive house as a photographer snapped the last of the stills for the shoot. You were posed perched and kneeling on a bed with your right hand buried in the already tiny crop top, you’d brought as one of the outfit options, and held up high to reveal your tits. 

The groan of floorboards creaking then found your ears and your gaze swiftly fluttered towards the door where the salt-and-pepper-haired man, who you’d come to learn was the head of the little porn studio, crossed over the threshold. 

“How are we doing in here?” Bruce adjusted his glasses before stepping further into the room. 

“I think we’re about done,” the photographer lowered the camera from his eye and cast a glance to his boss, “think we got the shot.”

“Great,” Bruce clapped his shoulder as the other man passed by and exited the room. As you tugged the short t-shirt back down into place, you met Bruce’s gaze before he asked you, “how are you doing? You ready?”

Though your mind was way too preoccupied to offer him an answer and instead blurted, “has he arrived?” as you scooted off the bed and felt the tiny shorts you wore ride up enough for your grasp to float down to adjust. 

“Not yet, I’m sorry,” he tilted his head, “trust me when I say that he isn’t usually this late. He wouldn’t have the stellar reputation he does if he was. But we can still begin without him and just fix it in post if you’re–”

Someone then poked their head and announced, “hey Banner? He’s here. I just spotted his bike roll up the driveway.”

Feeling your heart thump in your chest, you heard Bruce clap his palms together, “great!” before you followed him out of the bedroom and through the pristine halls of the rented modern mansion. 

Just before your bare feet began to conquer the long staircase, your absentminded grip tightened on the glass railing as you looked down at the open living room, clearly visible from the wide balcony, and spotted the figure that then sauntered in. 

“So sorry I’m late, traffic was literal hell.”

Ari Levinson. 

With sun-kissed brunette locks flowing from his head and a motorcycle helmet nuzzled under his burly arm, the infamous pornstar was not only blessed with a smile that could make anyone swoon, but also a dick so huge that any sane person would be downright terrified by the idea of having it split them apart. 

Though that wasn’t what had stopped you in your tracks, what had made your palms embarrassingly clammy when he soon shook one of them once you’d somehow made your way down the stairs. 

Why did your very first partner have to be someone you’d obsessively been getting off to for years? 

You were barely listening to what the people around you were saying as you couldn’t rip yourself out of the trance you’d snapped into. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you soon blinked, trying to avert your gaze. 

“I asked if you were ready,” Bruce patiently repeated. 

“…for?” you breathed, feeling as if you were inside of a giant ethereal cheese bell, making the entire world around you seem blurry. 

“For the shoot,” Bruce’s words still flew straight over your head, “I said that I was thinking that I’d do the filming myself, if that could make you more comfortable since you’ve already met me. That way it’ll just be me, the two of you and then Sam in the corner doing audio.”

“O-okay…” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up as Ari let his gaze linger over you, an observant brow soon twitching as he spoke up. 

“Wait, actually,” he placed a palm on Bruce’s forearm, halting him as he reached for the bulky camera resting on the white couch, “do you mind if I grab a quick smoke break first?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, “let’s just all take five before we begin.”

It caught you completely off guard when the object of your distraction walked by you and paused to murmur in your ear, “come with me outside for a second, will you?”

Shadowing him all the way out of the tall glass door and onto the terrace, you watched him lean his frame against the fence and tilt his body for you to slot in beside him. 

“I don’t actually smoke,” you uttered softly as you let your fingers ghost over the railing. 

“Oh, neither do I–, or well, that’s not completely true, I do, just didn’t need one right now.” 

“So then why did you ask for a smoke break?” you cocked a brow. 

Blowing out a swift breath, Ari then twisted to face you more and gazed directly down at you. 

“You mind if I hold your hand?” he held out his own palm.

“Oh, uhm,” your glance flickered down to his upturned hand before you carefully placed your own atop of it, “okay.”

His warm fingers swiftly engulfed your own as his stare stayed fast upon you.

“So, this is your first time, huh?”

“Oh, no, I'm not a virgin, I–” 

“I meant porn, sweetheart,” he tilted his head to be more at your level. 

“Right,” you averted your gaze as butterflies soared in your stomach, “yeah, I haven’t really done this before… I mean, I’ve some stuff, I’ve cammed for a pretty long time now and even recorded custom videos for some people, but no, I haven’t really taken this step before…” 

You were staring down at his large hand engulfing yours as he then said, “you know, it’s okay if you don’t wanna go through with it. This field isn’t for everyone, in fact, only very few thrive in this environment, and if it’s not for you, then it’s okay.”

“Oh, no,” your eyes flickered up to find his as you urged, “I wanna do this, I really do. I’m sorry, I guess I just kinda got a bit more nervous than I expected.” 

“Hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

“So, Cherry,” Bruce purred behind the camera as he knelt on the floor beside where you sat at the foot of the bed, “I can’t believe we finally convinced you to come have some fun with us. I gotta tell you, you are just a fucking dream come true…”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled, kicking your feet slightly as they dangled over the edge. 

“But you must get that all the time, I mean, look at you.”

“It has been known to happen on occasion,” you chuckled, thinking back to all of the lewd compliments the viewers of your streams generously tossed at you. 

“So, a little birdy told me that this is your very first time fucking on camera. Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” you bit down on your bottom lip, “I’m so ready to pop that cherry.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” he smirked, panning the bulky camera over your frame as you tilted your head in a nod, “you’re just ready to show the whole world what a perfect slut you are?”

“Think it’s about time,” you giggled in response. 

“Well, then why don’t you do something for me and stand up?” he shifted back a bit as you got up from the bed, “and now, I’ve already seen it, but can you please turn around and show everyone how fucking perfect your ass is?” a grin stayed fast on your face as you slowly spun around. Your butt was barely covered in the tiny shorts that clung around your hips, so when you twisted and let the camera catch that part of you, Bruce quietly groaned, “wow…” and he shifted his grip to let one of his hands float up towards you, “can I touch you?” 

“Sure,” you arched your back a bit to make his palm’s journey that much shorter. 

“Damn… this has got to be one of the greatest booties I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he offered your softness a brief squeeze. His fingers first dented one cheek, then the next, before his grip caught your waistband and tugged your shorts up just a tad bit more, making the fabric momentarily rub against your covered pussy.

His flat palm then scooped around your hips and guided you back to face the camera.

“Do you wanna see my boobs?” you smiled as you blinked down at him with big doe eyes, your hands gently grazing over the hem of your crop top.

“Oh, yes, please,” he virtually begged as he let his warm palm stay glued to your waist. 

Peeking down, you slowly lifted the shirt up and let your tits quite literally spill out as they jiggled slightly from the release of how fiercely you let the cotton graze over your skin. 

“Jesus christ…” you heard him utter as your palms fluttered down to play with them, squeezing the soft peaks gently before Bruce’s fingers sneaked up to pinch one of your nipples.

Once you’d put on a show and pushed the tiny shorts down your legs, the crotch of which had been slightly soaked since you weren’t wearing any panties underneath, you rested back down on the bed and spread your legs wide for the camera, grinning as the older man asked you to play with yourself. 

“Oh my god… I gotta tell you, I am so hard right now,” you watched how intently he stared at the small monitor, getting a closeup of how your fingers rubbed your little clit, “you have no idea how tough it is not to just fuck you right now, it’s crazy…”

“Oh yeah?” you giggled, the melody of your want echoing throughout the room at every teasing touch you offered yourself, “how bad do you wanna fuck me?”

“So fucking bad…” he uttered in a nearly hypnotise tone. 

Continuing to circle your puffy pearl, your fingers briefly dipped down to tease your entrance, only shyly slipping inside before you swept back up. 

“You know what?” Bruce said as he then began to twist a bit to get the open door to the room into frame, “I have a little surprise for you,” and perfectly on queue, Ari appeared at the threshold, burly chest on show with just a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. 

His stride was slow as he only stayed in the doorway a moment before sauntering over to where you sat, melted back and resting against the one forearm that propped you up. 

“Hey,” he smiled and plucked up your face as soon as it was within reach. 

“Hi,” you managed to utter just before he bent down and pressed his lips to yours in an unhurried and gentle kiss. 

He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, like some dude wasn’t pressing a bulky camera closer to the intimate act, but like he was the lead in a PG romcom. 

When Ari withdrew, he let himself linger in your warmth, ever so slightly nuzzling his nose against your own as your fingers kept up the dizzying pattern you drew between your parted thighs. Tilting his head, his touch traced the length of your arm till his reach came down to aid your efforts, making you gasp from the way he caressed you. 

“You,” he nudged his nose gently against your own, “look like you’re in need of some cock in that little mouth of yours.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “you read my mind,” before popping the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. Even though you’d seen his famed cock numerous times on screen before, it truly was something else to witness it in person. A breathy, “holy shit,” left your lips as you tried to wrap your fingers around his girth, though he only let out a soft laugh at the way your eyes grew wide. 

Ceasing the caress he drew between your thighs, he instead grabbed the base of his heavy length with his fingers still glossy from your arousal. As you stuck out your flat tongue, he tapped the weight against you for a second before you tilted your chin and wrapped your lips around the bulbous head.  

As you disappeared into the meditative motion of slobbering all over his cock, gradually taking more and more of his intimidating length, your frame twisted to lay on your side and face him more. 

Blinking up into his hooded eyes as the corners of your lips burned from the severe stretch, you felt his hips begin to move, rolling to meet your every bob, till his fingers tangled in your hair and he got to take over completely, fucking your face till slobber dribbled down your chest and rained down on your crop top, still tugged up and framing your tits. 

His free hand then snaked its way back down your body and cracked your legs open wide for the camera to see as he plugged your pussy up with two of his fingers, making you moan around his girth as the tip of him bruised your throat. 

When he yanked your mouth off of his cock, he did so with a gravelly growl, like he could have lived in your silky warmth and it pained him to say goodbye so soon. 

“Come here,” he grabbed you and flipped you around for your frame to face him as his feet stayed planted on the side of the bed. Kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, you panted up at him as you scooted even closer, nearly letting your butt hang off the mattress’ edge as you laid already crumbled and folded before him, utterly bewitched by the anticipation of what his legendary size must feel like stretching your poor pussy out. 

Shimmery spiderwebs of your nectar clung to him as he then let you feel the weight of him tap against your puffy pearl, briefly skimming through your folds before he found your eyes and tipped down, nudging to catch your weeping entrance. 

“Oh my g-god…” you gasped, all of the air escaping your body to accommodate as he slowly pressed just the tip inside. Your cunt clung around his dick as he gave you a second to catch your breath. Your pulse throbbed in your pussy as your silky walls moulded around him and your thighs gently trembled from the intensity of it all. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he gave you another inch, “you feel so good,” gently stuffing more of his length inside. 

His grip dented your trembling thighs as he held you open for the camera to see how you struggled to take his cock. Even when the tip of him kissed your cervix and made you feel as if he was all the way up in your fucking throat, when you hazily gazed down to see where he split you apart, there was still a generous inch of him that your little pussy just couldn’t take. 

As your eyes lingered a little longer, you too caught sight of how a dull bulge formed in the lower part of your belly, perfectly timed with each of his mind-numbing thrusts. 

When you then tumbled over the edge, nearly blind from the overwhelming pleasure, your pussy couldn’t help but accidentally gush around Ari’s girth, simply because of how mind-boggling he felt. 

“Oh, shit,” you panted. Still in your orgasmic daze, you swiftly cast a worried glance up at Bruce steady behind the camera, “I’m sorry,” you briefly broke the scene as Ari too paused his movements as you breathlessly spoke, “I really tried not to squirt, I know that wasn’t part of today’s plan, but–, fuck…” your eyes fluttered up to find Ari’s, “your dick’s just so goddamn big,” you hazily giggled. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Bruce’s voice washed over you as you watched a smile tug at Ari’s lips, “that was just an unplanned bonus.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” your neck twisted to cast a glance at the director. 

“No,” he swiftly shook his head and flashed you a reassuring smile to calm the obvious anxiety that had bubbled up inside of you. 

“Oh, good,” you let out a sigh, “sorry, I just got nervous for a second. Okay, alright, we can keep going.”

“You good?” Ari checked before he cracked out of his frozen form. 

“Yep, yep, I’m okay, I’m wonderful,” you chuckled and let the last bit of nerves wash away. 

“Alright,” he dipped down to press a soft kiss to your lips, before his hands guided your arms around his neck, slinking them around him. 

His grasp then scooped down under you and he effortlessly plucked you up off the bed, a shy yelp bubbling up from your lungs as he picked your frame up to cradle you in his arms, his massive cock still lodged inside of you, though when he settled you in his strong hold, it felt as if he found a mystical way to slide even deeper. 

Moans flowed from your lips and vibrated against his skin as your neck soon gave up and lent your cheek to smoosh against his fuzzy chest. 

“There you go,” he stood up tall and bounced you in his arms like you were a toy, just a cocksleeve for him to get off with, “there you fucking go…”

As he picked up the pace and truly gave you a taste of how a real pornstar pounded a pussy for the camera, your eyes screwed shut tight and you felt yourself float away on a cloud, curled up in Ari’s burly arms and surrounded in a storm of your collective moans. The existence of the video camera even faded from your reality as you peeled your eyes open and peeked up at Ari from the pillow of his pec, knowing full well that he too could feel how you began to clench around his cock once more. 

“You gonna cum again?” he repeatedly lifted you up and down on his fat girth, “you gonna be a good girl and cream all over my cock, huh?”

Blinking up at him, your brows crinkled in pleasure as you nodded, “uh-huh.”

“You think you can squirt again for me?” his grip dug into the plush of your ass hard enough for it to leave marks. 

“I-I don’t know–”

“Oh, I think you can,” he switched up his pattern, slowing down slightly and dragging you all the way up till his cock nearly slipped out of you, only to sink you back down in such a rough, yet intensely slow manner, that it made your eyes roll in your skull, “just listen to that,” he smirked at the soft sloshing sound that sinfully echoed as his fat girth repeatedly slid against your g-spot, virtually bullying it till you surrendered, “it’s like she’s begging me to just spend the rest of the day making her gush over and over again until you fucking pass out…”

A shrill cry escaped your form as you let go once more, shaking in Ari’s grasp as Bruce knelt down to capture your sinful drizzle.  

You nearly felt drunk, like you were hours into the best party of your life, when you eventually found yourself planted on the floor, quaking legs unsteady beneath you as you blinked up at Ari, looming above you and furiously fucking his fist. 

“You want me to cum all over that pretty little face?” he grunted as you hazily stuck out your tongue. 

“Yes,” the corners of your lips blissfully curled up into a grin, “please–”

Even though your bones had turned into jelly and your pussy clenched in soreness, the drawn-out moan that rumbled in Ari’s chest as hot ropes of his cum then shot out and painted your features sent tingles throughout your body and filled you with a desire to just wrestle him back down onto the mattress, hit rewind and do it all over again. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy

Synopsis: Damian presented as an alpha, to everyone's despair. He announced he found a mate, to everyone's skepticism. You're the perfect omega, to everyone's delight.

Pairing: Yandere!Alpha!Batboys X Gn!AFAB!Omega!Reader

Tw: 18+ pwp; noncon/dubcon smut; noncon drugging; creepy batfamily members feeling attracted to Reader when they were still 15, but nothing sexual or romantic between them happens until they're 18; this chapter is mostly Damian x Reader; ABO, Reader is an omega, all the batboys are alphas; Heat symptoms; Damian and Reader are 15 at first, when the smut happens they're 18, Tim is three years older than them, Jason is five years older, Dick is 10 years older and Bruce is on his 40s; Implied future gangbang? They want to share Reader (polyamory) but right now the real action is just between Damian and Reader; Loss of virginity on both parts; Implied that Damian is also inexperienced on kissing and Reader knows a little more about that; Fingering!R receiving; Slight schoolgirl/boy/person!Reader; Reader wears lipgloss, nail polish and earrings; Omegas breasts produce milk during heat; Some breastfeeding; Breeding kink; Handcuffs; The word ‘rape’ is used twice; Lots of crying; Nipple play; Dirty talk; Slight voyeurism; Unprotected sex; Negative and selfdeprecating thoughts; Claiming ownership (biting); English isn't my first language.

Word count: 4,7k

Requested? No.

Extra notes: Planning on making one pwp chapter for each batboy, and then a last one with no smut. Also, I think I'm gonna start posting on AO3 since the tw are getting worse...

General masterlist | To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy - Series masterlist

Damian was territorial, dominant and temperamental since the family had known him. Maybe he was born like that, maybe he wasn't, they couldn't know, so, what they most hoped for was that those were just personality traits, maybe coping mechanisms, and the puppy would present as an omega or beta one day, and then maybe the hormones would make him calm down. It was a small possibility, but one could only dream, right?!

Well, those hopes were crushed when, at his fifteenth birthday, Damian woke up growling at the mix of strong alpha scents stinking his room, his territory, and started pacing inside there, not allowing anyone but the old beta Alfred to come in.

He calmed down after a couple of hours, came out of his room to eat breakfast, assessed and scented the rest of his territory (everyone's territory, really, the manor was the family’s home), and maybe humor his inner alpha by subjugating the rest of the pack. It didn't work, obviously, they were all mature alphas who went through puberty already and knew how to (mostly) manage conflict with a newly-turned alpha who still smelt like milk and was just overwhelmed with hormones.

After a full belly, it was decided he shouldn't have to go to school for the first few days (something the teenager was happy with), to learn to control his mood and impulses, visit a specialized doctor to be sure what kind of suppressants were better suited for his organism, and so he could go through his first rut in peace.

A few days later, Damian went back to school, nose itching from some not-so-pleasant alpha scents, some weak beta scents, some sugary omega scents, and a lot of milky scents coming from most students, especially unpresented puppies.

He wondered how adults live like this, if he would just get used to it, and it wouldn't bother him so much one day. One thing was to feel the smell of flowers or food, another thing was to feel people’s pheromones. But his train of thoughts were halted when he felt you.

Not even inside the classroom yet, but he could sniff you out and find you if he wanted to. Strong, yet suave, soft. Strawberries. And milk. It made his whole body shudder and tremble. Now he knew why his family occasionally asked where the delicious scent stuck to his clothes came from. Now he knew why alphas turned their heads and stared at you so much when you both were walking around. It was all you. His best friend.

Damian stared openly and unconsciously, while you made your way to him none the wiser and sat down at his side, and he almost got annoyed when, at first, you didn't seem to notice his new presentation, as if you didn't even acknowledge him as an alpha yet. But then you turned and stared at him strangely.

— Dude, why’re you staring so mu- Oh. — You blinked, finally having realized where the new musky scent was coming from. — You're lucky you smell good. My neighbor smells like feet.

When he came home, he announced he had an omega.

Obviously, that left everyone bewildered as to what he meant by that, it was impossible for during his first day back outside as an alpha, he already had a mate. But he didn't have to explain much for them to understand, the scent on his clothes was enough proof as to why he wanted you for himself.

After that, Damian invited you to hang out with him at the manor for the first time. It caused a reaction in everyone, and all of them were home, of course they were, Damian wanted to show off his future mate, and you had to meet the family, since he single-handedly decided you were going to join their pack already.

As you walked past each door on the way to Damian's room, everyone had a reaction.

The old beta and grandfather, Alfred, was very polite and nice, he smelt like tea. He smiled more freely with how sweet you were, amused by Damian's clear crush.

Next, you passed Dick by the gym, he smelt spicy, and his door was open, so he could peek better to satiate his curiosity when Damian's crush arrived, yet, he didn't expect to almost fall from his stretching position when he finally took a whiff from your sweet scent for the first time, instead of just the faint and weak thing that occasionally got stuck on Damian's clothes and hair. He managed to look mostly presentable even though he almost sprinted to the corridor to meet you. Dick was even more pleased to see you were beautiful, even in your modest school uniform. He forced himself to hold back and stay in the gym when Damian decided the interaction took long enough, and pulled you to keep walking.

Jason was next, he was in the library. His scent was thick. Woody. He coughed around his drink when he felt your scent, and Damian rolled his eyes at him. Jason’s whole body froze when he saw how soft you looked, clearly an omega. He noted that you looked older than fifteen, but Jason knew you were just a couple of months older than Damian, and you still smelled like milk. His attraction to you bothered him because he couldn't ignore your still-milky scent, and he was already imagining how you would smell like when you fully reached maturity. Your hair was shiny and looked soft, like clouds and cotton-candy. He wanted to stick his nose there and hug you. You looked the perfect company for a nap (and more). Damian quickly steered you away to keep walking.

Next was Tim, he was in his room, and he smelt like peppermint. He always kept the door closed, but during your visit, it was open wide, due to his curiosity to meet you, everyone knew that. Tim snapped his eyes away from his computer when he felt you, and stared at you wide-eyed when you appeared. You didn't even come inside, Damian didn't want to feel your scent coming off of Tim's room to haunt him every time he walked past that door for the next days. It would definitely make him want to kill his brother. Tim tried to burn your image to his brain to the smallest details. He noted the color of your nail polish, your earrings, the thing dangling from your backpack, the shine and rosiness of your lip gloss. Tim specially liked your soft-spoken voice, and it bothered him how polite, neutral and distant it was, because clearly you both didn't now each other, you were just there as Damian's friend, meeting his older brother for the first time, and just wanted to go hole up inside Damian's room as soon as possible to avoid the weird interaction.

Soon, your wishes came through, and you spent the next few hours there with Damian basically teaching you everything and doing your homework. It was a new behavior, he never did that out of instinct before, some people asking him for help would annoy him, others, like you, he would calmly help out of the hidden kindness in his heart, but he never took initiative before. You brushed it off as just new alpha behavior and just used his either gentlemanly or condescending behavior, if it meant you could gain things out of it and be lazy.

At dinner, you finally met his father. Bruce Wayne was the alpha of a pack full of alphas and a beta. His himbo and playboy persona gave you the impression that he wasn't the most dominant alpha around, but you were proven wrong when you felt his sandalwood aroma and saw his towering frame. His personality was the same you saw on the TV, though, pleasant like a TV host or just a popular guy. On the inside, he was fixated with you, ignoring your milky childish scent and your school uniform. He wanted you around the house more. God knows how much a bit more of softness could help the family’s dynamic. Maybe that was what was missing, an omega around the place. Like you. Actually, it could be you. He thought about convincing Damian to stick to living in the manor even after you were both married adults. Or you could be Bruce’s when you were of age. Wait, how old were you?

Alfred drove you and Damian to your place after everything was done, all the alphas with a heavy heart, bothered that you had to go, that you couldn't spend the night with them yet. Even if you were already theirs.

It took a lot to convince Damian to share you, but eventually, he begrudgingly agreed, they were a pack, after all, not just a family, they stick together, take care of each other and of each other's interests. Having something that wasn't just vigilantism in common would be good bonding for them, and the closer a pack could get, the better. That he knew. A pack sharing someone wasn't exactly unheard of either.

After that, Damian started inviting you to the manor more often. Almost every week you were there. Your parents started saying that Damian probably was interested in you, but you laughed it off, never thinking an alpha like him would be interested in an omega like you.

The family made the best of that time to get you used to them, to their dynamic, and to make you feel at home, safe, trustful. They also wanted your scent to get stuck everywhere. To get to know you. To learn everything about you. To make plans.

When Damian's 18 birthday came, you were already legally an adult too, and they invited you over, saying it was a birthday party. When you got there, the party consisted in only you and the family.

The conversation was nice.

They put drugs on your piece of cake that simulated an out of cycle heat.

It started with fatigue.

Then fever.

Your eyes got blurred.

You thought you were getting sick, and just planned on taking cold medicine when you got home.

The alphas were slowly coming closer and circling you, unnoticed.

You felt weird in your intimate parts, maybe you needed to pee.

You stood up, but your knees were weak, and you almost fell, if it wasn't for Dick, who caught you mid-air.

All scents became clearer when your eyes locked. You wondered what the look on his face meant, confused.

You felt their excitement, and arousal. And you felt something poking your thigh.

You felt your own underwear getting wet.

You asked them to take you home, but they denied. That made you feel antsy, so you tried searching for your phone to call your parents to pick you up, but you couldn't find it. It got especially hard when Damian picked you up and started walking up the stairs with you.

— It's okay, omega. You're okay with us. I’m going to take care of you… — Your hands trembled when he purred the word ‘omega’, mumbled those words, and nuzzled the side of your head with his nose, taking a deep breath from your sweet strawberry scent, and faint sex smell, due to the wetness between your thighs. No longer any hint of milk anymore, since you already reached maturity just a couple of months before him, and now he also didn't smell like puppy anymore.

— N-No… D-Dami… W-Where are you taking me? What a-are you gonna do? … I wanna go home… I’m not feeling good… — You whimpered and tried to weakly move out of his hold, it didn't work.

— You are home, beloved. And I’m going to help you feel better… With my knot. — Your eyes widened. — I will fuck you real good and fill you with my semen. I know it is your first time, it is mine too. But do not worry, your heat will make it painless and you will be satisfied with me. — You whimpered higher, your omega was preening, crying for a knot, your pussy squeezing hard, but your mind knew it was wrong. Clearly something was wrong. Why was no one helping? Couldn't they see you were caught by surprise with your heat and were saying no to him? Why were they looking at you like that? A cough coming from somewhere seemed to snap Damian out of it, like he remembered something. — Ah, right. And then, you will receive father’s, and my siblings' knots. I will go first since it’s my birthday and I claimed you first. — Damian blushed, despite his smug tone. 

You cried for help, at first, it came out weak, as your omega didn't want to make something the alphas would disapprove of, but the closer you got to the room they designated for the moment, the reality of what was coming was overtaking your instincts. Especially after your belly started to hurt at being empty of seed.

The alphas only shushed you, and you helplessly watched as Tim handcuffed one of your hands to the bedpost as soon as Damian laid you down on the nest they made for you, and Dick and Jason each started taking your sneakers off. Bruce was standing a few feet away from the bed, Alfred at his side. The oldest alpha’s eyes were glued to your laid down figure, hungry and serious. Darker than you had ever seen. You've never been more scared of him before. He occasionally commented something to Alfred, that you vaguely registered as instructions, that also started being given to his children.

You weakly tugged at the handcuff and tried to sit up at the same time, but Damian pushed himself between your legs, and held you down by the waist. Dick and Jason held your legs open to accommodate him better, and your overwhelmed brain barely noticed their hands also rubbing your ankles and thighs. You've never felt more aroused and more scared your whole life. 

Alfred exited the room to start doing Bruce's orders, and he kept watching. Tim, who had disappeared out of your line of sight for a second, came back holding a long, shiny and glinting pair of scissors. You tugged harder at the restraints and tried to push your body up to get away, thinking he was going to hurt you, but he just purred at you to calm you down, unfortunately, it worked, and your pussy tightened when Damian hissed at feeling your center pressing against his hard cock, when you pushed your hips up and against his. You could feel him poking your underthigh, only the clothes separating you.

— It's okay, omega, I’m just cutting off your clothes, it's gonna be easier to strip you that way. — Tim said soothingly, while purring and almost cooing at you. Your eyes widened when he said that, and actually started cutting your shirt open, until Dick was able to pull the ruined fabric off from under you. 

All three alphas started purring at seeing your braless torso, chest already swelling with milk and nipples darkened. Omegas body produced milk when they had a puppy to feed, or during heats, and ruts, when an alpha was in a rut, and the omega was helping them, because the body understood it was a rough period, where a lot of energy was spent and not much nutrition came, since both were too busy procreating and too weak to go searching for food, so the milk was a lot helpful in those moments. There were even historical moments where that skill was useful in other contests, when the economy got so bad that most packs were starving, and the omegas of the pack helped them survive with milk.

Damian bit his lips and brought his right hand up to your left breast, squeezing it softly. Everyone was entranced, watching a single drop of milk come out, the breast not full yet. You arched your back, it felt good, so good that for a moment you forgot why you wanted to get away. Damian also didn't help your train of thought when his thumb started rubbing your stiff nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body and forcing your eyes closed. You forced yourself not to make a sound.

You snapped out of it when you felt Tim cutting your pants and underwear off. Your eyes widened at the feeling of being exposed and the almost cold air that made your hair stand. Your legs trembled and you felt Dick and Jason's hands working, uncoordinated pads of fingers dancing across the inside of your thighs. 

Your arousal’s scent freely infastated the room now, and half of them growled, in exception of Bruce and Tim, who were keeping themselves more calm and collected. 

— It's time to go now, let Damian and (Y/N) have their moment. — Bruce announced and you watched as Damian smirked, then you hid your face, sobbing against the pillow. He cooed at you while his other hand went down between your legs and started rubbing slow circles while pressing against your clit.

Dick sighed.

— Take care of them, Dami. Have fun and enjoy. — Dick patted Damian's shoulder, but you weren't sure the alpha above even noticed you, too busy gazing at you and your body, enjoying how warm and wet you were. 

— Yeah, remember to do what we taught you, baby bird. — Damian only hummed at Jason's comment, and leaned down, pressing his chest to yours. He brought his mouth to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and started leaving a trail of kisses up your neck, and under your jaw.

It was your first time feeling someone doing this, when you read fanfics and books, you never thought this could feel good like the writing always described, but it actually did, and you hated that you liked it, crying harder against the pillow and hoping his lips weren't moving closer to your face because he wanted to kiss you. You felt his nose sniffing your scent gland.

Tim hummed.

— Be careful with them, and don't take too long, everyone wants their turn. — Tim warned softly and was the last to exit the room, closing the door, but not locking it.

Damian’s warm breath huffed against your neck.

— Finally alone… — Damian whispered with a hoarse voice that made your hair stand. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes harder.

— Please, let me go… You don't have to do this, I won't tell anyone- — Your sentence was cut short when one of Damian's long and thick fingers invaded your entrance delicately. Your mouth opened on a silent scream, and the alpha watched you with lust in his eyes.

— Beloved… Omega… You will come to like this, I promise you that… — He sucked a faint hickey on your scent gland. His right hand started exploring the rest of your body, fumbling and squeezing the softer parts he found out he liked the most. You couldn't control your panting and small moans when his finger curled upwards inside you, touching your sweet spot. 

— D-Dam-... A-Alpha… — You arched your back when he started fingering you faster, your sensitive walls milking a single finger, crying for a thick knot, thirsty for his seed, your womb empty of puppies. 

— See… — He kissed your cheek. — We barely started, and yet… — Another kiss, closer to your mouth. — You're already dripping and earning for my knot… — Your lips met, it didn't seem like he had much experience, maybe it was his first kiss? Either way, you knew a little more about what you were doing, and he quickly learned. In just a few minutes, he was dominating your mouth. The younger alpha gave a slow bite to your lips when a second finger joined the first in fucking you, wet noises eccoing around the room.

You gained some clearance after a few moments, when he took his fingers off. You whined, not knowing if it was to plead him not to rape you, or because you wanted his cock stuffing you as soon as possible. You tried to force your head away from his, and he relented, pausing the kiss, but only to start taking his own clothes off. If your face wasn't already hot from the fever and arousal, you knew it would be now, feeling shy with everything new that was happening and his naked body, and surprised that you never once noticed his muscles before. 

While afraid, you peeked down and saw his hard and bobbing dick, it was thick and above average, but not too much. Not too much for someone who wasn't a virgin like you were, that is.

You tried to sit up, to get away from him in a bolt of strength you didn't have until now, fighting your omega with as much as you could. But it proved to be no help, as it punished you by making your belly tug and hurt twice more. Your torso fell down on the bed again, powerless by pain, numbness, and the restraint around your wrist.

Damian only cooed, still kneeling above you and between your legs. You cried. You didn't feel his calloused hands holding and caressing your hips, but you felt the blunt wet tip against your entrance. You were ruined.

Your parents would hate you. They would say it was your fault for ignoring their warnings and shoving yourself inside a home full of alphas with no omega. They would kick you out of the pack. And if the Wayne's did good on their word of raping you one after the other, you would probably get pregnant, as you weren't on birth control. That is, if they didn't kill you or kept you hostage in their basement. And even if your pack wanted to, they wouldn't be able to do anything to get justice for you, as the Wayne's were much more influential and rich. You were only going to the same school as Damian because your parents worked as teachers there, for god's sake. You were doomed. And if they decided to mark you…

You cried harder, ashamed of being so aroused now and so dumb all along. For the first time, you hated being an omega.

But all those self-deprecating thoughts were muffled when he finally invaded you. It was slow, gentle, testing how things felt. Damian heaved a breath and buried his face on your neck, breathing your scent deep. It felt amazing, for the both of you. You were so deep in your heat that of course it wasn't going to hurt at all, silly you. Those alphas were right, they are always right. They can take care of you.

— … More… Please, I want more… — You moaned and tried moving your hips against his, forcing his cock to push against your walls faster. Damian's head snapped up, looking at you with interest and lust. You were already cockdrunk, as he was pussydrunk, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

He bottomed out with more hurry, after pulling in and out twice to test if you really weren't in pain. He moaned deep against your face before shoving his lips against yours again, while he thrusted his hips. The alpha found the perfect rhythm while pulling almost all the way in and out, in a steady dance. Your moans got louder by the second, your inner omega happy with all the attention you were receiving.

Your free hand shot up to rest on his back, nails digging his scarred skin, not knowing what to do. Damian's hips gradually grew in force, until the bed was shaking and softly hitting the wall. The sound of your hips colliding and your wetness clear as day didn't bother you, as you only started begging for the alpha. To be owned. To be knotted. To be breeded.

— See how I take care of you… — He kissed down your collarbone, murmuring against your skin. — Make you feel good… — One of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up, purposefully looking for a deeper angle to ravish you. You gasped as he found it, and his thrusts got harder. You mumbled a bunch of agreements to whatever he was saying, you just wanted his knot! — You're my omega now, our omega now… — He softly bit your pouting nipple, being considerate as to not hurt the sensitive and swelling area. Your hand trembled on his back and shot up to pull his hair in an overwhelming wave of pleasure. He pulled weakly at your nipple with his teeth scraping the nerves on the area, until he let it go. — We will stuff you full of cum everyday and every hour… — His lips trailed down your ribs, but the position didn't allow him to go further down. He wanted to leave kisses on your whole body, and now he could do that, because now you weren't escaping them. He growled, resigning himself to traill his lips up through the space between your breasts. Your body trembled with the sound. — Fuck you real good… You will never have to beg, omega, we will spoil you with everything you need, everything you want… — His huge hands trailed up your body until they reached your chest. He squished them for a moment, enjoying how soft they were, and how pliant you were, looking straight into your dazed cockdrunk eyes. Imagining how your perfect pups will look like. Milk started coming out in small drops, so silent that he only noticed when it was dripping down his hand. His eyes shot down to assess the view and his knot started growing at the sight of your swelling breasts and darkened nipples, giving up milk for him, for him, so soft his fingers were digging and moulding the flesh, all while they were dancing up and down, bouncing, seducing him. You were seducing him. You were stunning, ravishing, perfect without even trying. He was happy his pack was the one tying you down to them, he wanted to kill someone just for thinking that someone else could have you like this. — … And you will give us everything we want…

He tentatively, almost hypnotized, leaned down and sucked your stiff nipple between his soft lips, sucking a small amount of milk inside, letting It rest on his tongue for a moment, savouring the taste, before swallowing.

You were sensitive, with a dull ache, but his suckling helped with the pain and sent waves of flickering pleasure against your body. You could feel him forcing his knot with each thrust to fit inside you as it gradually grew, and gasped, whimpering pleas for more. Begging him to keep going and stuff you full. You were both getting close to orgasm. Damian shut his eyes hard, overstimulated with the growing pleasure. He let go of your breast when he started feeling his canines getting more protruded, itching to bite your neck and claim you, his eyes also getting brighter, his inner alpha waiting to take ownership over you. Strip you off the life you had before. Forcing you to subjugate, until the smallest cells in your body knew who you belonged to.

He didn't hold himself, of course, and your first mark soon made home above your collarbone, your souls locking together and the intimacy going to an extraordinary level when you reached the peak of pleasure in tandem, while his knot swelled and made you stuck together, stopping any drop of cum from going to waste.

Every single drop was forced to stay inside of you, and Damian lifted your almost limp head, you both drunk, still coming down from the waves of pleasure, and forced your lips against his neck, his scent gland, and you, whose omega and heat had taken over since the moment his cock invaded you, didn't hesitate to mark him back, locking the bond completely.

— Good omega, good omega…

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