#sack full of trouble

[gameraboy2]

"Sack Full of Trouble" Saturday Evening Post, April 14, 1956 Cover by Dick Sargent

[ilium-ilia]

calyptra thalictri

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | "single mom" au | masterlist

slip

tw: stalking, abortion mention, anxiety, implied misogyny

In the beginning, Simon had his doubts about choosing you to be the mother of his child. 

He needed someone soft spoken—a sweet damozel without the connections of a lover, without something to hold her back. When he first laid eyes on you, he could see the prints in your skin. The divots left behind from the feet that have walked all over you, tread marks scarring your epidermis without any guarantee of fading. He watched those prints manifest before his very eyes in the pub he first saw you in as you laughed at your friend’s jokes, too gauche to share how uncomfortable it truly made you. 

Following you home was an easy feat when your friends were too inebriated to care about your well being. To give you a ride, or accompany you to the tenebrous corner. You were timid like a newborn fawn unsteady on their feet—too anxious to look over your shoulder at the large brute who had been tailing you for the last block and a half. There is no self preservation instinct. You let both friends and life alike drag you where they wish. 

Everything else was easy after that. Making a copy of your key, spiking the tea you always drink at night before bed, breeding you like the good bitch you are—but there was still doubt. Could something as pathetic as you ever make it as far as he needs you to? Would you suddenly grow skittish and flee the moment you knew you were with child? Could you ever be cruel enough to purge the foetus before he was finished with you? 

All his qualms vanish the moment he catches you in the grocery market. 

It’s truly by accident. A meeting planned by fate. He rounds the corner into the aisle of packaged bread and he sees you, trolley half full, teeth biting into your knuckles. Freezing, Simon’s eyes widen as he soaks you in—even the prospect of choosing between brands of bread troubles you as you inspect the shelves with narrowed eyes. Lips parted, free hand resting on your growing stomach, his mind reels. 

The sonogram in his wallet begins to burn a hole through his pocket. Its warmth is hardly matched by the blazing fury of the sun itself, but he revels in the sting. He gets to witness without a shred of doubt that he’s made the right choice. Look at you—pathetic, alone, in need of someone to take care of you. Scared. Worried. Struggling to hold back the frustration that boils just beneath your skin. In need of someone. 

In need of him. 

Simon tails you for a little while longer through the store, clandestine as he browses various canned goods and sacks of rice. His act isn’t needed, it seems, as you are utterly oblivious to the savior lurking in your shadow. Like a scientist watches a specimen squirming on an examination board, grotesque limbs pinned by unkind needles, he witnesses with avaricious delight as you stumble upon the baby food section. Small jars of puree carrots, peas, and bananas look up at you from the shelves with curling grins. Even from a distance he can see the way your throat bobs. How you attempt to be brave and reach for a jar only to pull back at the last second, unable to stand the heat. 

If only you knew how soon he would be there to swoop in and kiss the aches. To smother everything that ails you—to save you from this strife. 

These last few weeks have left his skin itching. Scarabs nettle beneath his flesh, scurrying on spindly legs, whispering with gnarly teeth into the shell of his ear telling him to take, take, take. Take you—wrap you up in the blankets you hide yourself in while you sleep and bring you home so that he can finally have the life he’s coveted since he’s seen the way bullets tear through bone. He often finds himself standing at the foot of your bed, watching you. Hands wandering to your stomach to feel, to press, to simper. He’s witnessed you swell—the child grow—his dreams manifest before his very eyes. 

He can’t wait—he can only hold this accismus for so long. 

Your gaze adverts from the baby food and you return your trembling hands to the trolley before continuing down the aisle. More often than not, your heart is like a hummingbird these days. Wings flapping too fast, beak darting, begging for sustenance, begging for anything that might free you from the bars keeping you caged; keeping you isolated. 

You’ve gotten good at pretending as if you meant for this to happen. This wretched state of your body—of this fatigue, of your swollen abdomen, of your dither. Though no one could look at you and realize that you don’t know the father of this creature growing inside of you, the gaze of the clerk has you believing otherwise. His eyes linger on your stomach for far too long as if he ponders how much red he could see if he cut you open, or the taste of ichor when licked off of his own fingers. 

He gives you a courteous smile as you pay for your groceries, then leave. Automatic sliding doors squeak as you push your trolley outside into the dying carotene puff of the setting sun, and you waste no time trudging along to your car. Its fragile, beaten exterior greets you flippantly with a simple beep as you unlock the boot and begin to pile everything inside. Milk, bread, eggs, apples, avocados—all things your doctor told you would be good for the baby’s development. 

Then, something rips. 

One of the bags tears open on the corner of the trolley, sending items tumbling free from their confines and onto the cracked asphalt at your feet. Doxylamine clatters to the ground and stares up at you. It grins. It’s goading you into doing the thing that seems to be increasingly difficult these days—bending. Crouching. Stooping low enough to grab something all while carrying the weight of some sick sin. 

Just as you go to reach for the box, a large hand swoops in and eats it. 

Blinking, you watch as the box slowly rises from the ground before it’s being held out for you to take. Scarred knuckles scream at you as they slice along pale skin, but your eyes follow the lines like words of a book—a story you’re waiting to peel back and uncover. 

“Doxylamine is alright, but I usually go with Diphenhydramine.” 

The voice that speaks to you is thick. Viscous like syrup—like cruor. Your gaze follows the invisible line that traces his arm, paying attention to the niello ink that permeates the skin just around his wrist as it peeks out from beneath the sleeve of his jumper. His palm is fat. Wide enough to smother a football with long digits that are so meaty they could pop it with a single hand. Then, there’s his height. This stranger towers over most, broad shoulders competing against even the most spacious of doorways, and the hood on his head coupled with the work boots on his feet give him an extra inch. 

Then, there’s his eyes. Inky. Pitch dark like the shadows the monsters in your closet used to hide in when you were a child. It’s impossible to see through him—to poke and prod your way into his mind. Something stops you just short of diving into the depths; a wall you can’t quite push through. 

Shaking your head, you knock your thoughts free from your mind. “What?” 

“Diphenhydramine is a better antihistamine. For allergies. Though, it makes you tired,” the man says bluntly. Once more, he shakes the box in his hand, and you bring yourself to look at it. 

“Oh.” You take it into your grasp, fingers not even coming close to brushing against his. “I don’t take it for allergies. It’s for… morning sickness, technically.” 

Your hand spreads over your stomach, almost lovingly. Almost as if this were planned—as if this is what you want. You feel this stranger’s gaze wander, just like everyone else’s always does. You’re a spectacle. Woman contorted into a show for all to witness. 

He hums in response to your unwarranted explanation before turning his attention to your trolley. Wordlessly, he begins to unload the basket. Bags slipping into his arms, you watch as he yanks them free and gently places them in the back of your car, piled neatly next to the few you had managed to load before making a mess of things. 

“Oh—uhm—you don’t- you don’t have to do that,” you stutter. 

“I know.” 

Stoic. Stale. No room for argument. Anxious fingers tap against the box of drugs as you watch him move your groceries for you. He’s not old, but the scars on his face age him. They settle into the lines of his face, deepening them until his skin is permanently creased. There’s a bump on his nose that you don’t think was there when he was born, and a rosy scar to accompany the ridge. His lips are tight. Thin, stony—as if he’s holding back something. 

A secret. A thought. 

“Well, thank you…?” Your tone curls. Your grace turns into a question, and you’re not even sure what you’re asking until he answers. 

“Simon.” 

Strong. Simple. Fitting, for a man like him. 

“Thank you, Simon.” 

He pauses when you speak his name—back turned to you, hands full of bags, he loads the last few into the boot before sneaking a piece of paper out of one of them. You open your mouth to protest until you notice it’s only your receipt. 

“It’s not right, havin’ you out here like this by yourself,” he tells you. 

Disbelief settles deep in your bones as you scoff. “Excuse me?” 

Not looking at you, Simon fishes a pen from his deep pockets and begins scribbling something on your receipt. “A woman in your condition shouldn’t be doing such heavy liftin’ on her own. You need someone to take care of you.” 

“What makes you think I need help?” you ask, brows raised. 

The pen clicks. It’s sharp. A shot ringing throughout the air. Simon’s eyes settle on you, and the weight constricts around your chest. They’re… eerie. Adust, like the lowering countryside right before a storm hits to wipe the earth clean. 

“You walk like you’re guilty. You’ve got some weight dragging you down, and I don’t think it’s the baby in your tummy doin’ that, love. When you look at people, you’re already apologizing. Can read it all over that sweet face of yours. Besides, there’s no ring on that finger. Means the dad isn't all that serious ‘bout you.” He holds the folded receipt out for you to take, but all you can do is stare at it with blank eyes. “Or maybe you don’t even know who the daddy is at all.” 

His impudence is jarring. Shame gnaws through your intestines straight into your womb where it grows. He’s read you to filth. Swallowing, you look at him, throat tightening. 

“Have we met before?” Your question flows from your mouth like blood from a wound—already apologetic for the damage. “You just… seem familiar.” 

All Simon does is stare. 

“I think I’d remember meetin’ someone like you.” 

He’s scribbled your receipt with his number, and before leaving he tells you to call him if you need anything. Stilted as ever, you stiffly thank him before shoving it into your pocket and climbing into your car, silently telling yourself that you’d never reach out to him—that you’d never drag anyone else into this… situation. Least of all someone like him, a stranger who can read you better than you can yourself; better than your own friends can. 

When you arrive home, it takes you much too long to load all your groceries into your flat. The stairs leave you huffing, and by the end of it, your knees clatter together so viciously you fear you may collapse. Instead, you endure. Unpacking items, shoving them into the fridge, the pantry, into cupboards—you think about how soon your space will be invaded. High chairs and puree food, bibs and swaddle blankets, toys to trip on. Another mouth to feed. 

Or not.

As you place the milk in the fridge, you think about how you could put the child up for adoption. Push it out and send it off into the world for you to never lay eyes on it again. You don’t have the stomach to terminate it, but you can stomach this. Sending them off to live with real parents. Someone better. 

Your thoughts freeze the moment your hand wraps around a box of toothpaste. 

Brows furrowing, you look through the contents of your final bag to find items you don’t remember buying. Aftershave. Protein mix. Soap. 

Sighing, you tilt your head back to look at the ceiling as your palms rub at your achy, swollen eyes. Simon’s phone number whispers to you from your back pocket, and you grit your teeth as you slip it free from your jeans. This grocery mix up feels like a seed—carefully planted and watered. 

Now, it’s germinating.

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[carbonfiction]

Misbehaviour

Poolverine X fem!reader-

Wade's mouth got him in trouble again, its just lucky Logan was feeling merciful. Trying a lil something out here, completely thrown at the notes app with very lil thought.. Lemme know if you'd like to see more poolverine? <33

Masterlist

Wade groans loudly around the soggy fabric of your panties in his mouth, wrists tied tight to the headboard. His bared body is coated in a sheen of sweat, cock weeping. Hard, wet and an angry shade of red as he watches Logan continue to pummel his hips into you just infront of him.

It had been like this for far too long wade thinks; neither of you touching him. A punishment for something stupid he had or hadn't done- his mouth getting him in trouble again.

This round, Your head's thrown back over wades hip, tits bouncing so wildly it has to border on uncomfortable; but its not like you have the capacity to care. babbled moans slip from your mouth, Logan having truly fucked you stupid as they join the wet squelch of your used cunt and the slap of skin filling the room.

"Gonna soak me again honey? Can feel you getting tighter around me." Logan grunts, his chest heaving as his eyes flit from you to wade and back.

He knows wade is starting to struggle, has been watching the occasional buck of his pelvis- a desperate attempt at finding friction he never receives. When you whine about being close again its then that Logan decides; whats a little reward to soothe poor wade over the loss of feeling your cunt tonight?

"Mhm, please make me cum again Logan. F-uck" you plead oh so sweetly, back arching at the way his cock hits thats little gummy spot that floods pleasure through you.

"Suck his cock then" Logan grits, one hand drifting from your hip to roughly tug at your nipples to gain propper attention. His voice is a deeper drawl as he watches how wade attempts again for more friction at his words. "Be a good girl and suck his fuckin' cock, then you can cum"

You nod desperately, quickly turning your head to Wade. You pool spit at the base of his cock, letting it run down across the skin of his sack as you envolope his head in your mouth.

Wade yelps, actually, genuinely yelps, around your panties, garbled expletives following in a muffled mess. His hips flying up into the warmth of your mouth, balls sloppily wacking your chin. Logans heavy thrusts pushing you to take Wade's cock deeper, until your borderline choking with it down your throat.

"P-please. Want you both. Need it inside" you gasp wantonly, pulling away from Wade for air momentarily.

Your moans around Wade grow louder when you take him inside again, more frequent as logan fucks into your pussy harder. The vibration of them mixes with the tight constriction of your throat in a delicious kind of torture. Wade cant think, the sounds and feelings overloading his senses. His orgasm boiling up fast as he obseves both the bulge in your neck and the soft outline consistently pumping inside the crease of your tummy.

And its then, as Logan reaches to thumb at your clit with rushed, messy circles that you all shatter. With your nose pressed to Wade's thick base your forced to gasp down his release as the hot ropes coat the back of your thoat.

Meanwhile between your legs Logan too pumps you full. A loud growl rumbling from his chest feeling how your pussy contracts tightly around him. The intensity of your orgasm having Ricochet him into his.

Its moments before overstimulation simmers up in all your bones as the room now fills with heaved in breaths. hot and sweaty, you feel thoroughly fucked and filled, satisfied despite Wade's previous consequence.

Because if that was the punishment? Maybe you'd both misbehaved around Logan more often..

[ameliathornromance]

“My darling lady,” the familiar rumble sent the stack of coins you had been very, very carefully stacking tumbling down.

You sighed, watching all your efforts slide down and away to become one with the ocean of coins surrounding you.

Standing from the ledge you sat on, you crossed your arms as your Dragon Boyfriend rounded the corner of the vaults and beamed at you. “I’ve brought you something.”

“Again?” You sighed, exasperated.

It’s not that you hated that your Dragon brought you things. It was wonderful and you appreciated every gift he got you, but the lengths he went to sometimes alarmed you.

One time, he came back with a jaw full of gems and jewels worthy only of Royalty and nobles. He’d brought them back just for you to look at, like a cat bringing in a mouse. While they were amazing and you appreciated them dearly… it wasn’t worth gaining your approval.

Although the gesture was nice, he also returned with injuries of his conquest. You could see it in the way he moved, gingerly setting himself down on the bed of gold, wincing slightly as he had adjusted himself to become more comfortable.

His whole under belly had been stained with blood, his wings had little cuts and bruises on them, even an arrow stuck out from under his jaw.

It worried you every time he flew out of the vault. You weren’t worth the trouble for all of these amazing things. All you needed was his love and company and yet he still insisted on bringing you all the riches in the world… as if he didn’t have enough of it already.

This time, clutched between his jaws, he held a small sack… that seemed to be wriggling.

“What’s with that face?” He asked you, gently placing the sack down with the greatest care. “You don’t want to see them?”

“’Them’?” You frowned. The way your Dragon said it made it sound like there was something living he’d brought you.

The Dragon gently nudged the sack towards you using his snout.

Wordlessly, you rushed over to the sack and undid it’s top. The cloth splayed out and revealed- “Kittens!”

All disapproval vanished from you the moment you laid eyes on the tiny balls of fluff that mewed and meowed at you. The three small cats clambered over the cloth and onto your lap.

Each one was a different colour, ginger, black and white. “How did you get these poor things? Don’t tell me you flew with them! They must’ve been terrified!” You pulled them up to your chest, desperately trying to hold onto the three of them.

A proud puff escaped the Dragons nostrils at your approval. He bent his head down towards you. “They were given to me by a Witch whose cat had just had them. She said she didn’t have the space to take care of them and thought you might like them.”

“And no one saw you, did they?” You gave him a warning look as the ginger kitten decided to climb around your neck, tiny claws digging into your skin.

“No, of course not darling.” He leaned down to you, allowing you to place your forehead against his snout. “the Witch lived far out from any kind of village, as Witches tend to do.”

After a moment, you broke apart from your Dragon boyfriend and looked down at the kittens in your arms. The black and white one squirmed in your grip, desperate for their freedom, while the ginger one had decided to make that his sleeping spot and now dozed lazily.

What had you done to deserve this? To receive all of these beautiful things? What made you so worthy? There were probably hundreds of more people in the world who needed this more than you did.

“… You really don’t have to keep bringing me these things, you know.” You said after a moment.

“But I want to,” your Dragon rested on his stomach, head laid down on top of the sea of gold as he watched you try and keep a hold of your gifts. “You are one of my greatest treasures and a treasure deserves treasure of it’s own.”

“Now you’re objectifying me.” You teased, the black kitten wriggling free of your grip, rushing over to a red ruby that sat on the edge of your seat and sniffed it with intrigue.

Your Dragon gave a huff, “that’s not what I meant.” He was silent for a moment as you finally let go of the white kitten who went to go and join her brother sniffing the gemstone.

“Do you not believe that you are a treasure?” He asked.

“Well it’s not like I’ve done anything worthy of being considered a treasure.” You said, bitterly. “Sacrifices to dragons aren’t even considered special if they’re being thrown away by their people.”

Silence fell over the pair of you again. The two kittens had now realised that they could see their own reflection in the gem – but not register that it was themselves reflected back – and had now become crablike as their fur puffed and they swiped at the gem.

“Do you think,” your Dragon growled, “that these animals are any less prized because they were brought here just like you were?”

You whipped your head around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I took them because a witch wanted to get rid of them and I brought them to you, who fell in love with them at first sight.” His amber eyes pierced through you, like he was desperate to try and get you to understand. “Have they done anything worthy to deserve your love?”

“Well, no, not necessarily-”

“So why do you believe that you are any less deserving of all these things?” The Dragon questioned. “Yes, even though you were brought to my vaults as a sacrifice, someone who wasn’t considered to be that special other than to be a meal… but have you done anything worthy of this other than being the object of my affections? Just like these kittens here?” He pointed a claw at the – in comparison – miniscule creatures.

You opened your mouth to protest, to find some kind of objection in his logic. But Dragons are wise old creatures, there was no faulting them when they had a point.

Face burning, you looked away from him earning a chuckle from the Dragon chuckled. “Nobody in this world should feel as though they are undeserving of everything. People may have told you that you aren’t, that you are nothing more than a means to appease me, but that isn’t true.” He rose his head and placed his jaw on your lap, angled so he looked up at you. “You deserve all this and more. I intend to give it all to you.”

You pursed your lips, “does this also mean that you’ll also be more careful when you fly out?”

“Of course, I always am. I want to make sure I come home to you.” The Dragon gave a dismissive snort, “darling, humans know better than to try and actually kill me. All those injuries before were just a result of a… misunderstanding.”

At that, you raised an eyebrow and returned your gaze to him.

Your Dragon boyfriend caved, “okay, perhaps not a misunderstanding, but it isn’t my fault that they wouldn’t give me all their finest clothes.”

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Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[solar-wing]

⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

⚣🏛️ A/N → If y'all knew how many times I deleted and restarted this entire thing... I don't even remember how I got this idea, I just remember wanting to write an obsession/love spell fic where some male superheroes go batshit crazy & horny over the reader. Either way, hope you all enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE | Canon-Typical Violence | Alpha Barry Allen/Flash | Alpha Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | Alpha Clark Kent/Superman | Demigod-Omega Male Reader | Obsessive Behavior/Actions | Attempted Non-Con | Dub-Con | Oral Play | Knotting | Bonding Marks | Sneaky & Meddlesome Gods & Goddesses |

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[bitterrfruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[unboundprompts]

Hello! Could you do a cowboy/wild west terms & phrases?

Thank you!

Cowboy / Wild West Terms and Phrases

-> The Chief Storyteller

-> Cowboyaccountant

A Lick and a Promise - to do haphazardly.

Above Snakes - If you were “above snakes,” you were above ground; still alive.

Acknowledge the Corn - admit the truth, to confess a lie, or acknowledge an obvious personal shortcoming.

An Invite to a Dance - could mean shooting at a man’s feet to make him dance.

Bake - to overheat a horse by riding too fast, long, or hard.

Barkin’ at a Knot - Doing something useless; wasting your time, trying something impossible.

Barn sour - horse that loves his stall; speeds up the pace as he nears the barn on the journey home.

Bedroll - Blankets rolled and carried for sleeping.  Also called sugans, soogans, hot rolls, or dream sacks.

Bee in Your Bonnet -  An idea.

Boondocks, Boonies - far from civilization.

Broom-Tail -  a negative term for an ill-behaved or ugly horse, often a horse that looks or acts like a mustang.

Burn the Breeze - ride at full speed.

Chuckwagon - A wagon used to carry food on a cattle drive, which also serves as a mobile kitchen.

Clipped his Horns -  took him down a notch or two; referring to a fight or a braggart.

Cowboss -  In charge of the cattle operation on a ranch.  They choose where the cowboys will ride and hire and fire cowboys.  Answers to the general manager or ranch owner.

Curly wolf -  real tough guy, dangerous man.

Dilly-dally - loiter or vacillate.

Flannel mouth - overly smooth or fancy talker, especially politicians or salesmen. 

Night-Wrangler -  A cowboy that herds and cares for the saddle horses during the night. 

Pull in your horns -  back off, quit looking for trouble.

Rustler -  A horse or cattle thief.

That Dog Won’t Hunt - That idea or argument isn’t going to work. Or, the person saying it doesn’t believe what you’re saying.

Will Die Standin’ Up -  brave

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[pedge-page]

Nobody Knows My Girlfriend is a Werewolf

Joel Miller x Werewolf F!Reader

Here's my late halloween contribution!

Warnings: monster sex, werewolf!reader, brief rimming, ball nipping, oral m!receiving, breeding kink, battle of dominance

18+ ONLY

- - - -

‘HeY! Tommy—shh!—no sorry not you I’m just—fuck, stop that!”

Burying the receiving end of the phone into his shirt, Joel puts his finger to his lips to shush you before shoving your clawed hand away. He puts the speaker back on his ear. “Sorry we—“

A strong growl rumbles below Joel.

“You got a dog or something?” Tommy chuckles on the other end.

“Uhhh--“ Joel looks down at you, now on all fours and nudging his clothed sack with your pointed snout. “StoP! Shit--“ he tries to push your nose away but you keep coming back, inhaling deeply through your blackened sniffer with heightened senses. You let out a low howl from your throat of approval, pawing at his jeans now to get them off. “Y-yeah— I mean no! We’re watching a friend’s dog—“

“You gonna keep it?”

“Wh-no. She’s being a —very-bad-dog!” He enunciates at you. “I’m gonna tell them she can’t play here anymore when she’s like this.”

You scoff, knowing deep inside your wolf brain he’s full of empty threats. 

If you really wanted to annoy him, you’d crush his phone under your foot, pin him down, and force you needs onto him. you'd actaully done that before, only to wake up with little memory next to a Joel who looked like he got hit by truck.

You were actually being a VERY good girl tonight given the circumstances.

He pushes you away with finality, walking away towards the bedroom.

You should try to behave, but its so difficult once this shape takes form. It's like asking a kid on halloween to wait to open candy until he's out of his costume and washed up for bed. you couldn't communicate with him, your wolf-like vocal cards unable to form words. But your gestures lead to pretty obvious intentions, and Joel was not getting it one bit.

Luckily, he isn’t prepared when you pounce on his back, making him grunt an “oof!” And falling flat on the bed.

“Joel?” Tommy asks, concern laced in his voice from the other end of the call.

“Shit—Yeah I’m—alright…stubbed my toe.”

You flip him around like he’s nothing. In your current state, he actually does weigh nothing to you. He tries not to yell as you start literally tearing his jeans off, the shredded denim falling by your side.

He coughs, trying to play it cool as if some monster didn't just rip all his clothes off with a single swipe. “I’m gonna have to—“ your sharp teeth pull down his boxers, revealing his rapidly hardening cock. A devilish grin spreads across your elongated mouth, salvia pooling in drops and falling to his stomach.

“Don't!—F-FUck!” He yelps as you wrap your sticky, long tongue around his member, a full 360 covering from base back up to the tip. Your warm breath is fanning his mushroom tip as your tongue jerks him off, granting you a hum of approval. Joel’s eyes go a little crossed, leaning back into the pillow and feeling himself float. “Tommy—No I’m not getting off right now—“ he furls his brows, unable to put his eyes on you and instead, pushes his palm along your furry forehead, knees digging into the matress trying to get away from your grip.

You growl again at his profuse denial of you. 

Shredding his shirt off as well, your leathered paws glide roughly over his chest and soft stomach.  You lick over his nipples, down to his naval and soaking his happy trail with slobbery kisses before returning to suckle his cock easily in your mouth.

In human form, Joel’s girth is impossible to take in one go, leaving you often choking and having to jack the rest of his member with your other two hands. But when you’re in wolf form, with your now larger frame and more importantly, longer chops, he fits just perfectly without any trouble. You had gotten pretty good at avoiding scraping with your larger teeth, instead now pressing your twitching nose deep into his pelvis while his cock breaches your throat heavenly. He closes his eyes, arched up in bliss and forgetting his brother on the phone.

“Tommy—I’m—not feeling great… this dog…I gotta—I’m—“

You flips him over again to his face, your tongue slitting between his ass cheeks and gliding over his taint. Joel lets out a shocked whine when you prod at his hole, glazing over it until slick from your saliva coats his entrance enough to slip the very tip inside. 

“‘Mgonnahavetocallyouback—“ Joel smashes the end call button with stumbled fingers. 

“You’re not putting anything in my ass tonight,” he groans as you lap at his entrance. 

You snap at him angrily, nudging his balls with your nose again. He feels your teeth nip along them as gently but hungrily as possible, hoping he’ll finally take the hint.

“Do you want me to fill you or not?” He asks, turning over and tossing his phone.

Your tail wags excitedly, fast panting jiggling your belly.

You lean back, spread your legs, as two clawed fingers spread your hairy folds. He can see it glistening with hormonal juices even with the slick fur around it. You lazily roll your paw in circled motions, a general amount of your wolf pussy juices dribbling down below and fillinig the room. Tongue lolled to the side with a heavy look in your eyes, your quick breaths dry you out, licking over your chops over and over again as Joel positions himself between your legs, his leaking cock in one hand.

“Ugh—wait—“

He reaches behind him to fish a few viagra’s, knowing even he will tire after a few round of half dozen, but you’ll be needing his seed pounded deep into your womb for at least 15 times tonight.

He mounts you like a dog, one foot propped up on the bed while the other steadies on his knee. “You gonna be a good pup tonight?”

You shake your head no teasingly, spreading yourself wider for him.

“No? How else am I gonna fill ya with a litter?”

You whine out dramatically, pleading with him. He keeps slapping his dick along your slit, giving himself a good warm pussy soaking without actually doing you any favors. “Not sure you’re worth breeding with pups since you’ve been so—“

Your jaws snap shut with a vibrating growl. One whole paw wraps around Joel’s waist as you hoist him towards you, his dick finally penetrating your walls. You let out a delicious howl, using him to fuck yourself. 

“HEY I’m not—shit baby—not a fuckin—toy!” It’s so easy for him to get lost in your cunt, internally much warmer and almost sucking him back in for more. You’re probably meant to take another werewolf’s cock, a werewolf’s knot, something proportionate, but you always go feral for Joel. And Joel’s a blessed guy down there. You enjoy the fact that you can be stretched wide in human form, but needing no preamble in wolf form.

And wolf or not, Joel Miller has breeder balls. The scent alone of his seed swimming inside them sends you into early heat each time, leading to nights like this where you’re biting at his sack then pinning him down until he dumps load after sticky load into your womb.

He doesn’t have a knot, but having human cock in werewolf pussy has its perks. Like how he can push deep inside, his balls snugly pressed against your entrance until they slip inside too. The two of you groan lowly as he ruts himself inside you. Your walls practically swallow his cock and balls all in one, refusing to let him pop them back out. Warm and wet, you can feel all of his twitching inside you, ready to give you those pups you’d been begging him for. Whether he understood that or not from you, it didn’t matter.

Joel grips your fur tight as he splatters his cum inside you. Maybe this time, it’s deep enough that it’ll take.

Even so, you’ve got the rest of the night to find out.

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[charliemwrites]

Good morning. Chapter 8. 😈

(Okay I was a lil wrong. Not full smut, but some spice.)

CW for violence, threats, non-con groping. Reader has a “bad” time and Simon is a bastard. Stay safe while reading!

He doesn’t kill Brandon immediately. No, no that little sack of spare organs deserves a long, slow, thoughtful death. But he doesn’t need to be able to walk for that.

Besides, Simon has a little bunny to track down.

And when he picks up your trail, oh. Oh. You are in so much trouble.

Somehow, you managed to shimmy a window open just enough to squeeze through. Out into a goddamn blizzard. At the very least, he notices when he finds your tracks, you put some boots on.

Catching up to you is pitifully easy. Longer legs and more experience in extreme terrain like this - you’ve barely made it to the tree line before he snatches you up.

“No!” You shout. There’s something so fucking cute about it. The pitch, the indignance mixed with despair. His shoulder shake a bit as he hauls you over her shoulder. “No, Riley, put me down!”

“Name’s Simon, luv.”

“I don’t care!”

“You will.”

He carries you, kicking and squirming and shouting back towards the lodge. Only starts to lose patience when he loses his grip a bit and nearly drops you on a hard sheet of ice.

He growls, digs his fingers into your plush thigh. “If you don’t fucking behave, I will spank you raw right fucking here. With your face in the snow.”

You gasp. Pause. Then go limp, sniffling and crying as he carries you back inside. He dumps you gently in front of the fire on your stomach, pins you down with his boot in the center of your back when you instantly try to scramble away.

“Where did those good manners go, sunshine?” he teases.

“Fuck manners,” you cry, pressing your wet face into your arms.

“No, baby, see? Those good manners are why you’re still alive. So sweet, so nice.” He leans down, careful not too put too much pressure on your abdomen. “Too sweet and nice to die.”

You hitch with a quiet noise. “Why are you doing this? Another lesson?”

“Mm. Could make it another lesson, couldn’t I? But no, luv. This all just for you, because I want to.”

As if on cue, Brandon comes crawling into view whimpering and begging for you to help him. Simon, annoyed by the interruption, snaps at him to shut up.

“Speaking of what I want you to do…” He drops to his knees, straddling your ass. You jolt when you feel the unmistakable hardness pressed against it. Takes everything in him not to grind. “I want to peel this little prick’s skin of square by square.”

Both you and Brandon make frightened noises at that. Simon rolls his eyes and continues.

“I’d settle for letting him bleed out from the stomach or lighting him on fire if he apologizes though.”

“F-for what?” Brandon demands.

Simon buries his fingers in your snow-wet hair because if he doesn’t, he’s going to take this idiot apart piece by piece right in front of you. Seems like a bit much for a second date.

“To her, for being a fucking pervert.”

“I’m not the sick fuckin-“

“S-Simon, please,” you pipe up, voice quiet and wobbly. “D-don’t do this, don’t hurt him.”

He clicks his tongue. “Little late for that, eh?”

“Just… please. He’s suffered enough hasn’t he?”

He laughs. Can’t help it. You just don’t get it yet, do you?

“He touched you. He upset you.”

You swallow. “You’re upsetting me.”

“You’re mine.”

You suck in a breath and finally, finally seem to understand.

“Then…. Then just leave him be. F-for me?”

Simon sighs, but can’t help the fondness that flares in his chest. Such a smart, kind little thing.

“Tell you what, sunshine, I’ll make you a deal.”

He shuffles back a bit, captures both your little wrists with one hand. You don’t try to struggle, know better now. He could purr; such a fast learner too. He draws you up on your knees, leaning you back against his chest.

“If I win, he watches what I do to you and then dies nice and slow like he deserves,” he murmurs in your ear.

You tremble. “W-what are you gonna do to me?”

He grins wickedly, trailing cool blood-stained fingers beneath your shirt. “Nothin’ you’re not already gaggin’ for.”

You jerk a bit, that precious flame of defiance brightening. “I’m not-!”

“Then prove me wrong and take the bet.”

“W-wait what happens if I win?”

He snorts softly, nuzzles his mask into your cheek. Likes the way you shift uncomfortably.

“I’ll stop. Hell, you know what? I’ll turn myself in. Brandon gets to live and you go to therapy and I got to prison, yeah?”

You turn to him, eyes huge and mouth parted in shock. Hook, line, and fuckin’ sinker. Oh, sweet thing, you never stood a chance.

“Deal?” he asks.

You only hesitate for a beat, know that it’s off. Too good to be true.

“If you don’t take the deal, I’ll just continue with our regularly scheduled programming.”

“No!” you gasp. “I-I’ll take the deal. What… what’s the bet?”

“Well,” he purrs, tracing aimless patterns along your sensitive tummy. “Since you’re so sure that you’re not gaggin’ for my cock - you win if this pretty cunt isn’t drippin’ wet for me.”

And he sees it, the exact millisecond that you realize you’re going to lose this bet. You squeeze your eyes shut, a little sob escaping you.

Brandon makes a horrified noise on the other end of the carpet.

“You can’t be fucking serious?! You’re fucking-”

That’s quite enough of that. Simon can’t have you feeling ashamed of something that’s only natural.

“You say another fucking syllable and you’ll be eating your own eyeball.”

Your stomach hitches with disgust. He shushes and coos to you, “I know, I know. Gross nasty, hm? But I can’t have him speaking ill of you, sunshine.”

He tugs the mask up to the bridge of his nose, places a slow kiss against the corner of your jaw.

“Now, for our wager…”

You turn your face away as his hand trails down your abdomen, thumb sweeping over your navel. You shiver as he toys with the waistband of your pants, then finally slips his fingers inside, down….

“Oh, luv,” he moans.

You’re fucking soaked for him. Your panties alone are absolutely ruined. When he pulls them aside and strokes his fingertips through your slit, they come away gleaming. Your clit is swollen and hard, so sensitive that the gentlest brush makes you hiccup and twitch.

He stuffs the two fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of you from bloody skin. Fucking divine. He could cum in his pants from that alone.

“Mm, shame that,” he rasps in your ear. “Guess I win.”

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Masterlist

[odileeclipse]

I feel like hollyberry is the mom of the group and if y/n is part of their group and is weak...like just an ordinary cookie who joined them...she'd mother them so much lmao! She has that energy!

You had barely managed to escape becoming a cake hound’s midday snack when she appeared. HollyBerry cookie, in all her might had bodied the cake count with one swing of her shield. You would say that was more terrifying than the cake hound itself, but she had decided you were hers now. "Look at you! Fragile as a sugar petal!" she bellowed, giving you a hearty slap on the back that nearly sent you face-first into the dirt. "No way I’m letting you wander around like this! You need strength, food, and a proper family! And lucky you, you just found one!" Before you could even protest, she had hoisted you onto her shoulder like a sack of flour and was marching forward with the enthusiasm of a general leading an army. That’s when the others arrived. Pure Vanilla Cookie was the first to step forward, looking utterly bewildered. "Hollyberry… who is this?" "A new friend!" she announced proudly. "Found them running from a cake hound! Poor thing doesn’t have a lick of battle in them." You wanted to get a word out but were cut off by Pure Vanilla’s kindness. Pure Vanilla’s concern instantly turned into sympathy. "Oh, you poor dear… Are you hurt?" His serene face was full of warmth as he reached up, carefully fixing your slightly askew hat. "Don’t worry, you’re safe now." "Safe?" Dark Cacao Cookie’s deep voice cut in, his sharp gaze sweeping over you. "They are weak. They would not last a day in our company." You stiffened. Ouch. Hollyberry shot him a glare. "And that’s why I’m keeping them! We’ll toughen them up!" Golden Cheese Cookie scoffed. . "Oh, please! Look at them—frail, small, utterly ordinary! If we bring them along, they’ll just slow us down!" "Then we train them," Hollyberry countered. "Besides, look at this little face!" She held you up like a prized trophy. "Tell me this isn’t the face of a future warrior!" You gave a very unconvincing, awkward smile. Golden Cheese squinted at you. "…Hmph. I suppose they have a certain charm." Dark Cacao crossed his arms. "A burden." "A friend," Pure Vanilla corrected, already using healing magic on the minor scratches you had from running. "And if they need guidance, we will provide it." White Lily Cookie, who had been quiet this whole time, finally stepped forward. She crouched slightly to meet your gaze, her dark fuchsia eyes studying you with interest. "You must be quite clever to have escaped a cake hound for as long as you did," she mused. "Do you wish to stay with us?"

…Did you have a choice? Hollyberry was still holding you. You nodded hesitantly. "I-I mean… if it’s not too much trouble…" "No trouble at all!" Hollyberry declared, setting you down—only to immediately pull you into a rib-crushing side hug. "Welcome to the family!" Pure Vanilla smiled warmly. "I’ll make sure they’re well cared for." White Lily nodded. "And I can teach them a thing or two about survival." Golden Cheese tossed her hair. "I suppose I could help them get some speed in those legs. Can’t be running like a lost chick forever!" Dark Cacao sighed. "If they must stay, they will learn discipline. I will see to that." You gulped. That sounded… intense. Hollyberry just laughed, giving you another hearty pat on the back. "See? You’re in good hands! Now, first order of business, FOOD! You need to eat! I’m sure running away from that cake hound has you beat!"

I really feel that she would have taken you in whether you had said yes or no LOL

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater Diamond: Woke Up Lookin’ Like This

The way that goofy diamond mascot follows Cater into his various outfits 💀

dbsjgejeje Can’t believe he’s being an beauty guru/influencer showing off makeup products and shooting a GRWM vid in his groovy… OTL

Rise and Shine!

Looking like you have it together is far different than actually having it together.

Some days—like today—Cater had trouble getting himself out of bed. He always did in the end, but with great effort, like lugging a sack of potatoes to the washroom. A splash of ice-cold water often did the trick, rousing him awake and adding a faint flush or pink to his face.

But color is a flaw. Imperfect. No pure diamond has splotches of another color tainting it.

He’d paint over his half-dead canvas with cleanser, toner, serum, and moisturizer. Skincare was less routine and more ritual for him. A special magic charm, complete with an incantation muttered to himself.

Smile already. You’re never fully dressed without it.

By the time he patted himself dry, his face managed to settle into its usual arrangement. The upward curve of his lips, a friendly sparkle set in his eyes, tangerine waves pushed back by a headband to show off the mask he wore. This was “himself”—the thinnest sliver of Cater he showed the world.

He plopped down on at the foot his bed. His phone was mounted on a tripod, and just out of camerashot were various pieces of equipment. Extra lights, reflectors—tricks to flatter him. To distract, deceive. Even the placement of the plushies on his bed had been arranged for maximum visual appeal in the eye of the camera.

Aaand… action.

The recording started.

Cater flashed a huge grin and waved to his phone. “Gooood morning, Magicam fam! How’re you doing today?”

His spectators were, of course, no one. Not now, at least. He’d have to edit this footage later, tweak and fine tune it to achieve perfection before releasing it to the public. Then he would lap up that sweet, addictive validation.

And so he donned that mask once more, playing to his imaginary audience.

“Hahah, you guys are so silly.” He playfully tossed a few of his locks. “Did you think Cay-kun woke up like this? It takes effort to look this good!”

Cater winked, pointing at his imagined audience members. “You can do it too! I’ll walk you through my base makeup routine 🎵”

He held up a slim grey tube, his palm acting as its backstop to keep the camera focused on it. Other products were neatly lined up before him like a procession of card soldiers.

“Lately, I’ve been really gravitating to this beand new UV primer! Have you heard of it? It literally just came out this month. I got my hands on it as soon as I could and I’ve been wearing it every day since!”

Cater rattled off the benefits and uses of the primer: UV protection, dewy—not greasy (this difference was important) finish, great coverage, evening skin tone. “You can put powder on top or dab it on with a tissue over a full face of makeup and it still looks good! This is sure to go viral ⭐️”

He was in the middle of a demonstration when the knocking came. Cater startled, smearing a blob of product across one cheek.

“Aaah, shoot…!”

He scrambled for his phone, cutting off the recording. Then Cater shot up, rushing to his door while rubbing the primer into his skin.

"Coming...! Wait just a sec!" he called.

An aside, to consult his reflection in the mirror and ensure that every last bit of product had been pressed in. His skin was left supple and glowing, giving the impression of a guy that hadn't spent the last hour before drifting off doomscrolling and commenting on shallow posts. A guy that had it all together.

Cater slicked back a stray strand of hair and braced himself for his next act. The door swung open, revealing you and your school bag.

“Mornin’~! You’re up bright and early!” he chirped, casually leaning against the doorframe. “Wasn’t expecting you to be over so soon.”

“Oh—well, I wanted to see if I could catch you without your full face on.” You squinted at him. “Wow, did you really wake up looking like this?"

Cater gave a laugh that was light and effortless. "What do you think?" he asked teasingly. An expert dodging of the question--not the truth, but not quite a lie either.

You bit your lower lip, considering it. "Come on. Nobody's that perfect. Even Vil-senpai has to work hard to be the way he is."

You took a step toward him, and he backed up. One foot rested on that line dividing his room from the rest of Heartslabyul. You teetered there, as if on a tightrope. One more step, and you'd breach into his territory--his room, his most intimate place.

"... What's your secret?"

My secret?

He had many. Too many. They writhed like worms inside of him, those ugly pieces that shrank from the sunshine.

Cater turned away, plucking up another tube of product. He squeezed a dollop onto his index finger. "What's the fun in giving it away? I think..."

His arm shot out, poking you in the chin.

"... It's more fun to give chase! If you spot a white rabbit hopping around, you'd be curious about where it's going, right?"

Your reached for where he had marked you. Your fingers came away moist with a thick cream. With a sigh, you rubbed at it, the cream vanishing into your skin.

"You're impossible."

Cater smiled--perhaps for the first real time since he had woken up. "That's one impossibility! Come up with five more before breakfast and maybe I'll be nice enough to give you a hint~"

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: Harry is given the wrong number when he goes out to a bar but oddly enough he’s not that upset about it because the number he’s given belongs to you. He quickly learns you’re southern and from then on he finds himself coming up with excuses to talk to you because you not only have no clue he’s Harry Styles you also just bring him a sense of comfort that he can’t seem to find with anyone else. Will you ever learn who he really is? And if you do will it change anything? Let’s find out shall we?✨

Pairing: Harry Styles x southern!reader

CW: Language

Tag List: Open

A/N: this series started off from a request I got for Harry to text someone southern and the idea just took off in my brain from there so I hope y’all enjoy💖

Conversations: here

Extras: here

*this is a texting story but you’ll find everything in the correct order down below*

Part 1: Happens All The Time

Part 2: Wonky

Part 3: Smooth as Sandpaper

Part 4: Fiddlesticks

Part 5: Church it Up

Part 6: After A While

Part 7: King George

Part 8: How in Tarnation

Part 9: Don’t be Ugly

Part 10: As All Get Out bonus convo between Harry and Niall here

Part 11: Odd Little Duck

Part 12: Beat it With a Stick bookstore with Harry here

Part 13: Till the Cows Come Home bonus convo between Harry and Niall here

Part 14: Oh My Days

Part 15: Full As a Tick Harry picking you up here

Part 16: Like A Fiddle

Part 17: Tall Order To Fill

Part 18: Borrowing Trouble how your date ended with Harry here

Part 19: A Little About A Lot you meet Jeff here

Part 20.1: You Thought

Part 20.2: Saddle Up

Part 21: Rub Some Dirt On It Harry’s convo with Jeff here

Part 22: So I Can Kiss You Anytime I Want

Part 23: You Better Not

Part 24: A Sack of Potatoes convo with Kathy here

Part 25: Mouse in Your Pocket

Part 26: Mind Your Manners convo with Jeff here

Part 27: Fired Up

Part 28: Some Kinda Alright

Part 29: Honky Tonk you picking Harry up here

Part 30: Feelin Sassy

Part 31: Get Out of My Kitchen

[serpentface]

Part of a painting depicting the historical Odonii priestess Odebinae Hibrides inciting aging men into battle during the siege of Odkoto (the city Godsmouth).

---

The most famous account of this siege is the poem "One Hundred Nights Of Dogs", which was an accumulation and rewriting of the (predominantly oral) accounts of the survivors into the format of epic poetry, first put into writing over three decades after the fact. The exact events it depicts are tenuously accurate at best, but it captures the emotional dimensions of the siege and has profoundly shaped cultural memories in the many years since.

This particular episode of the poem takes place towards the end of the siege, when Finn forces breached the outer of two city walls and began a partial sacking. The survivors in the inner walls at this point were almost all starving, and in varying stages of despair after months of hardship and acute trauma. Most of the city's youths would have been engaged at this time, and the poem describes Odebinae approaching a pack of older men at the edge of noncombatant age and inciting them to the front lines.

This is depicted as such:

She threw her glittering, blood-hungry spear to the ground. With one hand, she scratched deep wounds into her breast, and with the other hand, she pounded hard at her bared chest, and with a terrible voice, she roared, “Look upon me now, you cowards, look upon me and be ashamed. You have given up, this much is clear. You hide here and wail for your misery like little girls. You sit and weep, waiting for your rape while your mother-land is defiled around you. You await your deaths on your backs, already wailing! Already mourning! Your character is that of the dogs that skulk among you, eating the corpses of your brothers and your sons and skittering back into shadow when chased, whimpering for their troubles. You are little better, you cravens, you dog-faced men. Enough of this! Look at me now! I am your mothers, your wives, your sisters, your daughters, and look how I bleed while you hide behind your walls!”

Her behavior will have obvious and profound significance for the poem's listeners. The act of a woman exposing breasts and beating at the chest is a specific form of supplication, a performance that is read as exposing weakness in a deeply earnest and persuasive capacity. This is unique as a gesture of supplication, it both places the performer beneath the observer while retaining some control of the dynamic; it is confrontational (unlike a bow or other related gestures) and intends to compel them into action. Breasts themselves are politicized body parts in this culture, having very strong associations with motherly nurturing and/or feminine vulnerability. This targeted form of exposure may at least subconsciously remind the man of his mother, or a wife or daughters who are meant to be under his protection. This is further emphasized with the act of wounding herself and making this association verbally explicit- she positions herself as the impending desecrated body of the women in their lives, a catastrophe they are spinelessly accepting rather than taking up the defense and at least dying honorably in the process.

Whether the historical Odebinae Hibrides actually Did This or Said Any Of That is anyone's guess. There's a fair chance Something along these lines happened, as this form of motivational breast exposure is common practice for Odonii on battlefields, though the story itself is obviously dramatized and HEAVILY moralized.

At least in the confines of the poem, this high-caliber shaming proved to be rousing, and dozens of former noncombatants joined into the defense along with Odebinae. They were blessed by the priestess and described as having been invigorated with a God-given strength, their bodies feeling decades younger as they entered the fray. Odebinae is cited as having put on a full battlefield performance, exposing herself to danger to pace the ramparts while shrieking war cries and biting her spear, acting as a spiritual protector for her men and casting the evil eye on her foes below (this is probably one of the most realistic aspects of this poem, some other accounts say she killed dozens of men and might have turned into an actual lion at some point). She was eventually cut down by arrows, and it's said that when her body fell from the wall, twenty men climbed down after to protect her from desecration.

The siege (both historically and in the poem) ended shortly after, with the Finns being repelled by the arrival of warriors from Ephennos and Wardin (who proceeded to Effectively capture the city themselves without additional bloodshed, as a matter of a negotiated 'alliance' that was functionally more of a land-grab. But that's neither here nor there). Odebinae was declared a saint in the aftermath, along with ten other priestesses and two warriors who died notably heroic deaths.

---

Notes on the drawing:

-Aside from the expense of blue pigments, the use of all-white garb here rather than the standard Odonii blue is an acknowledgment of her sainthood and a suggestion of divinity, and the color is reminiscent of the garb worn by the Odomache in public appearances.

-When the shedding of blood is significant in Wardi art, it will be shown with great clarity and excess, often appearing to gush from even minor wounds. This is visual shorthand for the significance of blood as living spirit and an indicator for what is specifically being accomplished in the act. A depiction of the minimal bloodletting performed in everyday prayer may show the blood arcing directly into flame, the wounds of a sacrificed animal may spray onto earth or crops or into the sky. Here it sprays both towards the spear and the city's earth at her feet.

-The short hair on the men in this image communicates them being in states of grief (both figuratively and probably literally), as it's customary to cut the hair at the topknot (or halfway through the braids for women) to initiate the mourning period. Other depictions of short haired adult men are typically non-Wardi and/or foreigners with these customs (which will usually be made obvious by other elements of ethnic coding) or sex workers (also contextually obvious in most cases).

-Wardi art doesn't consistently depict signs of advanced age with great specificity, though colored images will usually at least show graying hair. The complete youthfulness of the men (probably around the age 55-60) here illustrates the story's claim that they experienced a sense of divinely imbued vigor, making it external for visual symbolic clarity.

-The man in front is performing a spiritually deferential gesture (the squat isn't part of it, that's just a common resting posture), and his positioning doubles as a suggestion that he is about to take up the spear. The hand contact between the men in back (perhaps unintentionally humorously) suggests that they were in the midst of heated conversation before being interrupted by a priestess aggressively bleeding at them.

[thanksbutno98]

A Second Without You

John Price x fem!reader

Authors note: Been wanting to write this one for awhile and finally got around to it. Little throwback for Indy and John. Someone requested it but I couldn’t find it in my inbox. So thank you anon who asked for this! It pushed me to finally do it :)

Summary: It’s your first time getting to meet John Price’s closest friends. Only things get physical when a man disrespects you in front of your boyfriend.

Warnings: angst, sexual themes, light smut, blood, violence, female objectification, unwanted groping, low self esteem, body image issues, swearing, illusions to domestic violence, breaks ups, illusion to depression, not edited.

——————

Staring at yourself in the full length mirror you smiled in satisfaction. You had on your little black dress that hugged your body in all the right places. It was fitted with long sleeves and a deep v-shape for the neckline. You were wearing the best push-up bra you owned and looked like an absolute snack. You had black pumps on and your hair was down and flowing.

Tonight your boyfriend was taking you out to a pub to meet his friends. You were extremely excited to now be at a point in your relationship that friends were meeting you. You’d been dating in secret for almost a year now so it felt like it was time. Part of you was worried about your revealing outfit because you didn’t want anyone thinking you were easy. But you knew he’d be drooling over you since you normally didn’t wear revealing or scandalous clothes outside the apartment.

A solid knock sounded on your worn front door in the rhythm your boyfriend always used. You checked yourself over one more time and gave your ass a little smack to boost your ego. Shuffling out of your room you quickly unlocked the door and swung it open.

Standing there was none other than Johnathan Price. He was wearing his usual beanie, dirty work boots, blue jeans, a brown flannel that hung open and a white t-shirt underneath. In his had was a bouquet of roses and the smug grin on his face disappeared and was replaced with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands to myself.” John muttered more to himself as he handed you the flowers. Eyes raking over your body and settling on your cleavage.

“Good, that’s the point.” You flirted placing the flowers on the counter next to the door.

John checked to see if anyone was around before he grabbed your waist and then buried his face in your breasts. Letting out a squeal you walked backward with John’s mouth attached to your soft skin and swung the door shut. Before you knew it John had grabbed you by the back of the thighs and picked you up and placed you on the kitchen counter. The sight of you was intoxicating. John needed to have you and wasn’t hesitating as you gasped and started to breath heavy under his hands. Tongue leaving a stripe up the valley of your breasts and then curling around your ear. Your skirt was riding up as John pushed you towards him, your legs spreading wider to accommodate his hips.

Calloused fingers running down your sides and slipping under your little dress. The pads of John’s finger moved further up your thigh and circled around your waist. Squeezing your ass firmly John was now kissing your neck and one hand moving to unbutton his pants. You let out a breathy chuckle and grabbed his wrist as he was unbuckling his belt. John pulled away to look at you, pupils blown wide and a desperate fucked out expression on his face. You could see in his stormy blue eyes he wanted to ruin you and if you hadn’t spent so much time getting ready you would have let him.

No woman had ever had this affect on him. You were John Prices drug, he was addicted to your skin, sweet moans, and how adventurous you were in the sack. From the melodic way you said good morning to when you laughed so hard you couldn’t catch your breath. John adored your bed head and that cute face you made when you concentrated on work. Everything about you was sexy to him and he couldn’t get enough of you. Wether that be your mediocre cooking or witty sense of humor.

“Please, darling.” The desperation in your lovers voice had you pulsing around nothing. You bit your lip trying to refrain from giving in and letting John fuck you senseless on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t need you messing up my makeup.” You breathed out clearly not happy about your decision either. John’s calloused fingers slipped behind your neck and tugged you slightly forward. Your lips were ghosting together, breathing the other in. You felt small with John towering over you like this, taking control just how you both loved.

“You can redo it.” John whispered. Kissing the corner of your mouth, purposefully trying to tease you his other hand playing with your knickers. John’s hot lips started leaving open mouthed sloppy kisses down your neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I will not redo it because this can wait until we’re back.” You said a little bit more adamantly but there was a bit of a whine to your voice. You wanted John so bad, craved his coarse chest hair rubbing against your naked back. John let out a shaky breath and put his craving for your touch aside.

“I’m going to rail you when I get you in bed later.” John grasped your cheeks with one hand only using his thumb and fore finger. He had you looking up at him as he told you this. A smug expression on his face as he watched you almost melt into a puddle. Eyes fluttering in a daydream like trance at the mental image. John loved that you were just as crazy about him.

“Good, I look forward to it.” You kissed his cheek, jumped off the counter and fixed your skirt. Turning you slowly bent over the kitchen table to grab your purse. John groaned loudly mumbling that you looked just as good from behind. You giggled as you watched him look up to the ceiling and start muttering to himself.

“What are you saying?” You asked as John avoided looking at you.

“I’m doing math in my head.” John grunted, turning his back to you.

“Why?” You were a bit confused by the turn of events.

“Trying to get rid of my problem.” John motioned to his crotch, head still raised to the ceiling. With raised eyebrows your eyes went wide at this new discovery. So that’s how he killed a boner, interesting.

——————

Stepping forward John cut you off, holding you still with the arm he had around your waist. Grasping at the pubs door he shook his head in mock disappointment at you. A ‘tsk’ falling from his tongue at your attempt to open the door yourself. You smiled bashfully loving how much of a gentleman he was. You weren’t allowed to open doors, fix broken appliances, change your oil, or shovel when it snowed. That was John’s job. You were more than capable of doing these things but John insisted, telling you it made him feel good to do them for you.

Walking into the dimly lit pub you took in the surroundings. The rectangular bar was in the center of the room and lacking bar stools. It had a rod iron pole wrapping around the base about an inch away from the chestnut panels of the bar. The surrounding walls were packed with half booths and some round, some rectangular tables. The stools didn’t all match. Some were brown leather while others were faded grey fabric. Old and worn picture frames hung around the room leaving little space to see the mahogany wood behind it. The planked ceiling was painted a darker shade of green that you could see parts of the paint chipping off. The floors were a bit dusty and old faded grey wood that creaked when you walked. It wasn’t packed with people but it also wasn’t empty. You were realizing it was mainly men in here but there were a few women your age around.

John was leading you to the back where you noticed a large doorway that took you three steps down. This room was filled with round tables and old wooden chairs you swore came from someone’s mothers dinning room. The walls were filled to the brim with old art that needed a dusting. The floors were carpeted with intricate red and brown designs and there was a billiards table off in the back right corner. The whole place screamed classic British Pub. This room was less occupied only having about a dozen people in it enjoying their pints and shooting the shit.

John still had his hand on the small of your back as he lead you over the the group of four men playing billiards. You couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous meeting John’s friends.

“Oi, Johnny boy. Bout fuckin’ time.” A man with a squirlly voice called out. He was about average height, spiked black hair, clean shaven, and pale. He wore jeans and a sweater that was too big for his thin body. You turned to watch John’s face crack into a confident smile.

Two of the men nodded in John’s direction one holding up his pint to say hello. But the man closest to you turned and bear hugged John. Your eyes went a bit wide, surprised John could be that friendly considering he didn’t usually like being touched let alone hugged.

“You must be Y/N.” The man hugging John practically shoved your boyfriend who did the same back with a deep laugh.

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled sweetly feeling a bit nervous. It was always hard meeting new people especially when they were such old friends.

“Sam, that’s Keith, Stuart, and Ant.” The three men waved at you politely. You’d heard all these names before having been told by John they were his closest mates. Sam was John’s oldest and best friend since they were children. They went to school together and played on the same football squad.

Sam was about John’s height maybe an inch taller and same build. He had the biggest smile you’d seen in awhile. Sam had short corkscrew coils and a neatly trimmed beard but his mustache was a bit thicker, one of his thick eyebrows had a notch taken out of it and he dressed in jeans and a burnt orange hoodie. His complexion was rich tawny brown and his eyes were so dark you could barley see his pupils.

Keith was the first man who greeted you and the other two looked like they could be brothers. Which you later found out they were. Stuart and Ant both had dirty blonde hair, pale skin and blue eyes. Stuart was the shortest of the group and had a face covered in freckles and his cheeks were pink from the alcohol. Ant was a bit tan looking like he’d been on holiday and was average height and stalky build with cherub cheeks.

“John hasn’t shut up about you.” Stuart winked at you. Ant laughed obnoxiously loud and took a swig from his pint.

“Feel like I practically know ya!” Ant added.

“That’s not true.” John laughed out awkwardly. Hands by his shoulders in defense. You could see by the bashful look on his face his friends were telling the truth.

“Oh piss off. Don’t listen to him. This prick is whipped for you.” Keith added. The group of men then proceeded to tease your boyfriend about being ‘in love’ even going as far as to call him a lost puppy when you two had broken up almost a year ago.

You loved hearing them poke fun at your normally stoic hunk of a man. John didn’t seem to mind the banter. Shooting back his own snarky comments that had Sam hollering laughing when Keith’s love life was described as being fully committed to Newcastle United.

It was good fun getting to hear the stories of John being a drunk idiot. You learned he once ran from the police because they caught him taking a piss in an alley. Your favorite was hearing about the time John got so drunk he offered to buy the whole pub a pint just to realize he didn’t have enough money. He was booed out of the pub and never showed his face there again. Someone even threw a shoe at him that Keith kept as a memento.

John’s friend were easy to be around. They didn’t take life too seriously and they mainly chatted about football, the women they were interested in, and caught up on each others lives. It was a lot more wholesome than you imagined. Sam told you about how John was a mess when he had broken things off with you and how relieved they all were when he stopped fighting his feelings for you and asked you to be his girlfriend. They all agreed that it was the most insufferable your boyfriend had ever been. John told you they were being dramatic but you had a feeling they weren’t.

After a couple of hours you all had a decent buzz going. Stuart was the drunkest and John and Sam were arguing over football. Ant was telling you about his wife and you told him about your work. Scanning the table you realized everyone’s pints were about done.

“I’ll get another round.” You stood from your seat, John’s hand that was resting on your thigh fell to his side. The group of men all looked a bit shocked by your comments.

“Sit down, darling. I’ll get it.” John waved for you to sit back down next to him. You knew he didnt want you spending your money and even his friends agreed.

“Oh piss off. I’ve drank for free all night. Let me buy one round. Or is my money no good here?” You joked getting a smile and nod of approval from your boyfriend.

You didn’t bother waiting for a response from the other as you made your way to the bar. It felt good to treat to a round since everyone was being so nice to you. You couldn’t wait to tell your own friends all about this and then gossip that Sam would be a good match for one of them.

“Lucky man. She’s prettier than you let on and fucking brilliant.” Keith waggled his eyebrows at John. Sam laughed deeply nodding in agreement.

“Seriously John don’t fuck this one up.” Sam warned, finger in John’s face then clapping a hand to John’s back rather forcefully.

“I won’t. She is fuckin’ fantastic.” John was brimming with pride that his friends were so approving of you. John already knew how amazing you were but it felt good hearing it from his closest mates.

“Absolute knock out to boot.” Stuart slurred in his drunk state.

“Oi, watch yourself.” John warned. He was struggling with the looks you normally got and had been trying to keep his jealousy and over protective nature at bay while you two had been together.

“Oh c’mon she’s good company that’s what Stuart means.” Sam chuckled shoving John’s shoulder to get him to lighten up.

John chuckled finishing off his pint. Checking over his shoulder he watched you order six pints and then point at your table so they’d know where to bring them. John’s eyes flickered to the large man approaching the bar right behind you. The pub had gotten about a dozen more patrons in your time here but it still was far from packed. John’s eyes went wide as he realized what was about to happen. He was up and moving in a split second.

“Fuckin’ hell!” A loud unfamiliar voice came from half a yard behind you.

You jumped a bit at how close the words were yelled around you. Before you could turn around to look an incredibly painful sting lit up your skin as a rough hand collided with your ass. You couldn’t help the pained yelp that ripped from your lungs and echoed through the pub. The room fell almost silent and patrons eyes went wide. Tears immediately sprang to your eyes and your hand shot to you mouth to keep yourself letting out a choked sob.

No one in your life had ever hit you that hard and you were immediately shaking as that same hand squeezed your burning flesh under your dress. You pulled away and caught a glimpse of the man who had just hit you. He was tall like John, balled, and reeked of whiskey. You were digging your nails into this man’s forearm to try and get him to let go. Embarrassment making your cheeks rosy because your panties were now visible with this man’s hand up your skirt.

“Stop. St-“ before you could get out the second ‘stop’ out the stranger hit the floor so fast you didn’t know what happened. Taking another step back and fixing your skirt you watched as John stood over the man and punched so hard you could hear his knuckles cracking against the man’s face. You thought after a punch or two John would stop but he didn’t. John had lost his grip as he continued to beat this guy into a bloody pulp. Stomping down on the man’s hand and shouting he’d make sure he’d never be able to use them again.

“JOHN! Stop, STOP!” You tried to pull John off the man who wasn’t even fighting back. You were scared he was going to kill him.

A group of three men rushed your boyfriend. You screamed as you watched one try to kick John but he caught their foot and slammed him into the ground hard enough the floor shook. The other two were trying to restrain John and throwing punches and kicks where they could fit them in. John’s group of friends were there in seconds trying to pull John apart from the brawl. People were shouting and screaming as chaos broke out. Someone was shouting for anyone to call 999.

Looking down you ignored the violent display in front of you and saw the man who slapped your ass laying at your feet. His face was swollen and there was a deep gash on his cheek that was pouring blood. He was looking up at you, babbling and asking you if it looked bad then passing out. You were shaking as you looked down at your legs to see blood splattered on your exposed skin and reaching up to the skirt of your dress. Fear was coursing through your veins and you thought you were going to be sick. You’d seen violence in movies but never had you been this up close to see what it looked like in real life.

The men were all still yelling and shouting at each other. One had a stool over his head as he tried to hit your boyfriend with it. There were attempts to break it up from the bartender and a few bystanders. Sam had John’s arms behind his back as John yelled at the guys friends to meet him outside so he could kick their asses next.

You didn’t think as you rushed for the door you saw in the back of the pub. Slamming into the it you flung it open and stepped out into the back alley, your heels splashing in a puddle from the rain that morning. You were breathing heavy and panicking, unable to get the image of that man beaten and bloodied on the ground out of your head. You gagged, bending over and trying to calm your racing heart.

The air was cool against your skin and you finally had a second to focus on yourself. The back of your thigh and ass hurt so bad but you didn’t know if you were being dramatic. Running a hand over the area you could actually feel the raised skin in the shape of that man’s hand. That’s when the door you came through swung open and slammed into the brick wall. You screamed being startled and so shaken up by the events that had just occurred.

John stepped out clearly having gotten one good punch to his face. His cheek was red and you could see slight swelling. That’s when your eyes darted down to his hands. His knuckles were busted open and dripping blood onto the damp asphalt but you weren’t too sure who’s blood it was at this point. There was blood splatter on his white t-shirt and the left arm of his flannel was torn slightly. His strides were quick as he practically marched at you.

“Are you okay?” John asked dipping his head down to look you in the eyes and then attempting to hug you. As soon as his arms were starting to swallow you, you stumbled back with a shaky out stretched hand waving him to stop.

“What is wrong with you, you asshole!” You snapped. Unable to control the tears that began to stream down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong with me?” Anger flashed in John’s eyes and you felt small. You felt scared being alone in an alley way with a man who just possibly beat a guy to death.

“I think you should go. I’ll get a cab home.” You took another step back as John threw his hands up in the air. You could see how angry and frustrated he was with you.

“Fuckin’ Christ Y/N! I was protecting you. And you’re going to act like this.” John’s voice had gotten to a deepness you’d never heard and he was still wild eyed. It looked like he was going to start smashing things. For the first time you felt threatened by your boyfriend the illusion of safety disappearing in a puff of smoke.

“That-“ you pointed to the pub and wiped your tears away with the other hand.

“That was not protecting me! That was you losing your god damn mind! It was overkill John. I get maybe punching the guy once but he didn’t even fight back and you wouldn’t fucking stop. You could’ve killed him!” You shouted the last part hoping your words might get through to him. Your body began to shake more violently as the images of John beating that man flashed in your head.

“What did you want me to do? Let some prick smack your ass and do nothing? Like I’m some limp dicked pussy. I refuse to be made to feel like a cunt.” John spat the words at you.

“It’s not about you Johnathan! I’m so sorry your fragile ego was threatened. But what happened, it happened to me! Stop acting like this was an attack on you. You seriously could have killed the guy.” You tried to stay calm as you and John shouted back and forth at each other.

“He’ll be fine.” John shot back. You were done in that moment. You couldn’t believe that was the man you were so in love with. It felt disgusting like you’d been lied to all this time.

“No. I can’t do this. I can’t be with someone who thinks that was okay. You need help John.” You stared John dead in the eyes as you broke up with him. The anger and self righteousness washed off him instantly when he realized what you were saying.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I-“ John was closing the distance between you two but you stepped back making him stop in his tracts. Arms wrapped tightly around yourself and the look you were giving John was as if you were scared he was going to hurt you. John felt sick to his stomach seeing you so shaken up and clearly fearful of him.

“That was fucking scary.” You told him and he had nothing to say in return. John stood there as he watched you walk away. Your heels clicking against the ground as you made your way to the main road. Hailing a cab you got in and cried the entire way back to your flat.

——————

It had been two days since you met John’s friends. John had tried to call you half a dozen times but you wouldn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say to him and you needed to focus on yourself at the moment. The mark on your bottom was swollen and bruised a deep purple. It hurt to sit so you had been laying down in bed or on the couch the last two days.

Your pillows were stained with tears and your friends had been blowing up your phone wanting to know how the night went. It was easier to shut yourself away thankful that you were between jobs at the moment and could be a hermit. You had been avoiding doing the dishes and cleaning up. You threw a towel over your full length mirror and avoided looking at yourself when you passed by the mirror in the bathroom.

The feeling of cheapness had invaded your body once again. Being minimized as an object for men to grab at. Then having men physically fight over you like someone had snatched their favorite toy on the playground. It was a reminder why you didn’t tend to dress in revealing clothing. It felt like it was your fault for putting yourself in a position like that but you were also so angry that someone thought it was normal to touch you like that. It was confusing and messy muddled emotions plagued your brain. Guilt, remorse, anger, and sadness swallowed you whole.

No matter how many times you showered that dirty feeling wouldn’t go away. The only semblance of comfort you could find was layering yourself in clothes and not allowing sunlight to touch your skin. You couldn’t look at yourself in the dark reflection of the television so you kept it on constantly.

You were currently in a baggy hoodie, sweat pants, and thick socks. Laying on your side and eating from a bag of crisps, you were staring off into space. The television was on as the news channel played quietly. You had ordered in food and were waiting for it to get there. Food was a way of coping at the moment and you had ordered a feast for yourself. Making sure to get enough to have left overs for a couple of days that way you didn’t have to cook for yourself.

A knock sounded on your front door and you slowly got up. This food was going to be the highlight of your day and you were looking forward to pigging out in the privacy of your flat. Grabbing your wallet you took out the amount that was told to you on the phone. Opening the door you were already trying to hand the money over. Only John was standing there looking a bit confused at your hand outstretched with a few notes in it. He blinked slowly trying to process what this meant.

“I thought you were my food.” You whispered. Quickly pulling your hand back and shoving the money in your pocket.

“Can I come in?” John asked. It was strange seeing him out of the house in sweatpants and a black fitted long sleeve shirt. His clothes were damp making you wonder if he had gotten caught in the rain when he got in his car. But it wasn’t raining hard enough to cause that kind of dampness it had only been misting all day.

“Sure.” You breathed out as you stepped aside and let John into your flat. He walked in and stood a bit awkwardly by the kitchen table next to the front door. Shutting the door you looked at his handsome face feeling a bit uncomfortable. He had a a bruise on his cheek bone and his hands were shoved in his pockets as a way to hide his scabbed over knuckles. There were dark bags under his eyes and somehow he looked skinnier.

“You’re soaked, what happened?” You asked watching as water dripped off of John and onto your floor.

“I walked here. Needed to clear my head.” Your jaw dropped that John had walked all this way. You two did not live close to each other it was at least a two hour walk.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” John spoke and you felt your heart ache. You loved him so much but you still stood by your decision. The real reason you were letting him into your flat was so you could give him his things back that you had packed up into a bag neatly.

“J-“

“Please just let me get this out. You know I’m shit about saying my feelings.” John asked and waited for your approval.

His hand outstretched as a way to stop you. His knuckles were scabbed and looked like they hurt. It looked like his thumb may have gotten dislocated by the way there was bruising and swelling around it. You nodded. After everything you still felt like John should have the opportunity to say what was on his mind even if it didn’t change things. You still loved him so desperately.

“You were right.” John started. Shaking his up and down as if to egg himself on to get the words out.

“I lost it at that pub. . . When I’m deployed that kind of violence is necessary and my brain snapped into the kill or be killed mind set.” You watched John wince at his own words and you swore his eyes were misting as he confessed these hard feelings to you.

“It’s not something I’m proud of. And when you told me I needed help it hurt because I had been thinking that about myself since I’ve gotten home. Been thinking that for awhile. I don’t know what else to say besides I’m sorry and I will never do anything like that again. I’m better than that and I’ve already schedule to talk to someone about it.” John’s words were riddled in pain and you could see the regret on his face. There were tears in his eyes so you looked down to give him a chance to wipe them away, which he did.

John really felt ashamed by his actions. You couldn’t help the tears that began welling in your own eyes. There he was, the man you fell head over heels in love with. You were scared you had lost him and your last memory of John would be in that alley way.

“Maybe we ca-“ your words were cut off by a sharp knock on the door. Wiping your eyes you turned and opened the door to grab your food. The man handed you a large paper bag and you gave him the money. Exchanging some pleasantries. Before you had completely shut the door John spoke.

“I can get going. You probably need time to think.” John went to leave but you shut the door. He looked at you a bit confused but also hopeful.

“I don’t think I can eat all this by myself.” You said sheepishly. Not completely sure if John would want to stay after you broke up with him.

“You sure?” John asked and you could see the sadness in his eyes. He really didn’t think you’d even open the door for him let alone ask him to stay.

“Please don’t leave.” You whispered.

Sniffles started first and soon enough you were crying over a large paper bag filled with copious amounts of food. John took the bag from you and placed it on the kitchen table. Seconds later he had you wrapped in his strong arms and you weeped pathetically into his chest. Fingers gripping the fabric as you let it all out. John let out a few choked sobs humiliated to have had you see him like that and overwhelmed by being that vulnerable.

“I’ll only leave if you tell me to.” The words were just as sincere as when John poured out his feelings to you moments ago.

“Then you’re never leaving.” You lifted your head from John’s chest and stared up into his mesmerizing blue eyes. Both of you still fighting back tears.

Your eyes were puffy and cheeks rosy, you were beautiful and John seared this image of you in his mind. It would be the reason why he would never do anything like that again. Not much else needed to be said. John knew he wasn’t forgiven but he was welcomed warmly back into your life.

“I never want to live a second without you.” John’s spoke softly as you stood on your tip toes and he leaned down to capture your lips with his.

~~~~~~tag list~~~~~~

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[yeonipari]

Twst Imagine

Random thought during class. This is lowkey just self indulgent.

Spoilers for book 5 and onward.

Imagine getting hit by a black carriage when you're with one of the Yuus. Yuu gets reincarnated as a human but you, you become some sort of bird shapeshifter.

Plot twist, you can't control what form you take, it depends on how comfortable you feel. Like the second you feel uneasy, you turn back into a bird. Sadly, no one can understand you in bird form so you have to resort to dragging people around or pointing with your beak.

Honestly, nrc just feels like walking on eggshells 24/7 so the only time you're human is probably in Ramshackle.

There are some characters that figure it out though. Crowley is probably the first to find out. He might be incompetent but at least he's easy to be around.

The Adeuce duo find out after a surprise visit to Ramshackle. (Ace got in trouble again) Deuce thinks it's some kind of secret he has to keep. On the other hand, Ace uses you to tease Deuce. Expect comments about eggs to be a common occurrence.

Rook probably finds out because of course he does. Like imagine walking around Ramshackle with Yuu and Grim when you suddenly get a feeling someone's watching you.

Uneasy feeling = bird form.

He'll probably try to pluck your feathers. Imagine Rook chasing some small bird across campus. At least the rest of his victims know what it means when they see a tennis ball sized sack of feathers fly at full speed.

Leona figures out you're not a normal bird almost immediately.

Reason One: You appeared with a magic less human from another universe and seem to understand the language.

Reason Two: Rook.

He's not the type of person to pry into the lives of other people, so he won't really do anything. He might say something about your bird form when you go to wake him up.

Vil is the next to suspect you're not a real bird. He liked that you seem to understand social cues but the more he thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. Sure birds can be trained but something about you seemed to human.

It was during the vdc training camp he finally found out. You had snuck down with Yuu, Grim, Ace, and Deuce for a midnight snack. Sure sneaking down was a bit worrying but it wasn't nerve racking enough for you to become a bird. After Ace (force) fed Deuce, he turned to you, shoving cream into your mouth while also eating.

This could have been a cute moment, if it wasn't for Vil catching all of you.

Getting caught = Uneasy feeling = Bird form

Vil's suspensions got confirmation at the cost of you sleeping on the floor.

Wowowowow first post :D

Also sorry if the formatting is weird, I'm typing on my phone. I could use the computer but it's a family computer and I'm not about to expose myself.

I might expand on this later but this is all my brain could come up with. Please comment any other characters you wanna see!!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[gothamite-rambler]

A Chance Encounter

Robin (Damian) thwarted two teenage robbers from harming a young girl with vibrant red hair. He cradled her in his arms, fully aware she was perfectly capable of walking on her own.

The girl babbled excitedly about previous adventures she had witnessed with Batman and his team in Gotham, even though Robin had already pointed out that he had been there for most of them.

Redhead: When Batman hugged you after the Joker tossed you out the window, I was squealing! Father-son goals! That live stream was insane! I swear I screamed when he yeeted you out like a sack of potatoes!

Robin (annoyed): Yep, yep, I was there. He tossed me out, Superboy caught me. All right, we're almost at the address you gave me. Can I put you down now?

Redhead: Not yet. I want my damsel moment. Thanks again for saving me!

Robin (checked out): That's what heroes do.

Redhead: Totally! Man you molly whooped those baddies. Love it!

The redhead young girl sung the last night giving Damian a headache.

Robin: Do you sing at random?

Redhead (singing): Yes I dooooo!

Robin: Your poor neighbors.

Redhead: Hey, a little singing isn't gonna get me in trouble. I want to be a singer someday. Broadway star to be exact.

Robin: Fantastic.

Redhead (kicking her feet lightly, throwing her head back): At the same I want to be a hero like you. I would love to be a Robin! I’m a black belt, you know?

Robin: You’d need to learn a lot more than just that… most of the time.

Redhead: OMG, I could be the next Robin! You're getting older.

Robin: Don't make me drop you.

Redhead: Fine, grumpy. Hey, is the second Robin really alive? I heard rumors he survived and is like—

Robin: No comment.

The redhead stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes in frustration.

Redhead: Keep your secrets for now. We’re at my place already.

Robin (dropping her gently to the ground): Fantabulous, take care.

She sprang to her feet, her gap-toothed grin unchanged. Adjusting her glasses for a second, she extended her hand out.

Redhead: I’ve shaken Batman’s hand, and I’d love to shake yours! No autograph needed.

Robin rolled his eyes but shook her hand anyway. Despite her young age, she had a tight grip. Her high spirits were a nice change from the usual dreary Gotham, but only in small doses could he handle this girl having just met her.

Robin (yanking his hand back): Have a good night, ma’am.

Redhead (hands on hips): I’m not a ma’am, silly. Call me Carrie… because that’s my name. I’ll be seeing you around, Robin.

Robin (indifferent): Doubt it... Carrie.

He waved, starting to walk down the opposite side of the street he had just traversed with her in his arms.

Carrie: Good dude, not a fan of his Robin outfit. Classic Robin is gonna always be my fave!

With a giggle, she headed inside, the front door already unlocked. As Robin continued his walk, a thought struck him.

Robin: I have an odd feeling I'm going to see her again... Going to ignore that concern for the present moment.

And with that, he resumed his patrol, the night still young and full of surprises yet to come.

Who's Carrie Kelley?! She's a character from the Frank Miller Batman series and she's off again on again canon. I like the character and was interested in making her part of the bat family. She's about 8 or 9 in this, advanced in school and is a real character in the bat universe. Oh and this is like ooc I haven't seen this character in a long time. This will be posted on AO3 soon.