#this is my cry for help to get more people to read these books I am so serious

[martiemagic]

Oh I remember reading this thread, so here’s my little take on it;

This is funny to me; we cry out when someone does this, still praise AI in the help of schoolwork.

Disclaimer; I’ll forever dislike- and be against the use of AI or any other type of stuff like that (and before I hear it’s good for homework; I got a a lot of disabilities myself and I refuse to use it.) If I want to know something; I read or I ask people who has the literary knowledge to teach it to me. (For information: I study literature)

If you need to know something pls don’t trust AI to give you the information that you want. You may think you got the *gist* of it, but as a literature student myself I can assure you that you don’t. There’s a huge variety of translated classics out there, and I assure you that you will find one that’s an easy read, just do a little research~ Unless, one is not committed to it, like this on Twitter.

Also “readable English” is something you can get from translated books, idk. what he is trying to say😂

(Added argument-tweet in said thread, image for fun to prove the point)

If you wanna know something (anything!) pls read yourself up on it or ask someone who has read it, they can be of so much more help😌

Also let’s just normalise not using AI in school or for reading, let us instead learn from each other instead of using artificial intelligence… (also disclaimer; I am talking here about literature, learning and reading, this does not concern anything else f. ex. medicine practices)

what is HAPPENING

[inthelibrarybtw]

get to know college!student!reader

college!student!reader who is naturally smart, and loves studying, it can get a little too much because she hates to get less than a B in her classes, in high school she got a C once and almost cried her eyes out (no one knows about this) she’s not a party girl, she’s more into staying in watching a movie with her friends, baking and if she’s alone reading a book. baking usually is like a coping mechanism that shows up around finals and midterms because it becomes stress baking, but sometimes she does it for fun or to have a nice little detail for someone she cares about. 

college!student!reader who is very kind, just don’t provoke her,  hates confrontations but always sets her limits. her anxiety and overthinking can get the best of her, her friends know that and always reassure her when she’s having a bad day which is not that often but when it hits it hits hard. she has a hard time asking for help unless it’s her best friend from high school who sadly doesn’t go to the same college as her or kelce since they know each other since they were practically kids. she tends to cry when stressed, angry or when she’s exhausted and drained. 

college!student!reader who loves taylor swift and everything that anyone could classify as basic but she loves it, picking flowers, reading romance books, watching 90s and early 2000s shows. passionate for art and music, loves to go on walks while listening to music, you can catch her going to museums on her own, usually very independent but loves to spend time with her friends and people she loves, quality time is her number one love language and physical touch is the second even if she doesn’t like to admit it. who barely understands sports but when her friends invite her to football or basketball games, she goes to spend time with them and because they always go out for food afterward. 

college!student!reader who is an only child which has allowed her to have a good relationship with her parents, her high school best friend is like her sister, she loves her friends and respects them a lot. she’s really hard on herself, even if she knows she has people who will be there for her no matter what sometimes she shuts down and doesn’t speak to anyone about what she’s going through, shields herself with reading, and externalizes her emotions on playlists or listening one song on a loop as longs as it fits to how she’s feeling.

college!student!reader who loves to take pictures of everything and share them on her social media, it’s like her digital diary. her major suits her for that reason, digital marketing with a minor in graphic design, to in her words “make everything look pretty”. who is bilingual, her mom taught her Spanish since she was little and she uses it a lot when talking to her family and some friends. who is also very sarcastic, always has a smile on her face and most of the time she won’t verbally say stuff but her face sure will let you know everything before she even thinks about saying it.

authors note: thank you so much for all the love this fic is already receiving!! college!student!reader (aka Avery) is very dear to my heart, she has a lot of bits and pieces that I took from my life and put them into who she is. I hope you guys like her and get more excited to read about her.

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[sundayin96]

i remember when i was in second grade we had a computer lab assignment to answer a bunch of questions about ourselves on a word document and it asked our favorite band and i put fleetwood mac and my teacher was the only person that even knew who they were and a bunch of the other kids were like why do you like “old people music” and i used to be so embarassed about it and now i’m like actually why don’t you like “old people music” 😒 losers

[haru-with-mdzs]

Reblog this post and state your favourite mdzs character + reasons in the tags

[realest-nilou-kinnie]

every single time i'm reading anything about him, fan fiction or not, and someone describes him as lazy, i can't help but blurt out loud to myself, "he's not lazy" and sort of roll my eyes. It's in his character bio in the game for crying out loud: he doesn't see the point in trying anymore because every time he has ever tried in his life, he has been shot down and shown that nothing he does will ever matter.

self-indulgent elaboration under the cut

also, i would argue that it's about as clear as can be that he is "rude" on purpose to push people away...because he knows he was born in a silver spoon in his mouth and thinks he doesn't deserve people being nice to him. of COURSE he is snarky and snappy when he gets the chance, he WANTS people to stay away from him. He does NOT, however, want them to talk behind his back, i dont think. We know it hurts him. He doesn't want them to whisper that he's dangerous and he could probably kill everyone within a 50 foot radius with his UM at a moment's notice. Which is true. I think he's afraid of that possibility (and I believe in the novel it's described as being a volatile spell that other second princes have been effectively cursed with, and that he could accidentally kill people around him. That's why he grew up overhearing the palace servants whispering about the spell as if it was already a known UM.)

I know we don't know how he got his scar yet, other than it being something he clearly doesn't want to remember, but I can't help but wonder how he first "got" his UM. It isn't one he developed like Azul did, for example. He was born with that being the UM he would one day manifest. I definitely have ideas about how he got his scar and how it could relate to the advent of a Unique Magic like his, but I DO NOT think he killed or seriously hurt someone. I think the King's Roar spell has been popping up in previous generations of the Sunset Savanah royal family in second-born sons, and the people know it can lay waste to everything around the user. Even the things the user didn't touch or mean to affect start to turn to sand, like the air. Idk i just think his magic hasn't killed someone but I think he and everyone around him knows it could. From past experience, if you will. So maybe he showed signs of it being his UM and people FREAKED out as if he killed someone. That can be really damaging for a kid.

With this in mind, how could it be any clearer that he is trying to push people away? Now, allow me to be a blatant Leona Kisser on main (joke intended, that's my sideblog @leona-kingscholar-kisser LOL), but....HE'S NOT EVEN DOING THAT GOOD OF A JOB OF PUSHING PEOPLE AWAY. BECAUSE HE ISN'T A NATURAL AT IT!!!!! 😭😭😭😭 I'm not saying he craves connection, yet, because i haven't seen his part in book 7, but he definitely is not just meanspirited. He doesn't enjoy pushing people away, he feels that he has no choice in order to not hurt others. Isn't that the most selfless thing of all?

Knowing how he was treated as a child during his formative years, I'd say every glimpse of kindness and generosity and selflessness and passion for life he shows is indicative of someone who is all of those things even more so than it would be for someone who had no adverse childhood experiences. To me, the fact that he is all these things even in the face of the agony he must feel looking in the mirror every day means he is an even better person than someone who only does the right thing to earn praise and be celebrated. Character is doing the right thing even when no one is watching and all that.

I literally could write 50 paragraphs about him with MLA citations, but here is what i mainly wished to impress upon the part of twstblr whom i think are a wee bit confused about his characterization:

examples of Leona not being a massive sack of shit:

he pretends not to notice when Ruggie steals jewelry from him just about daily, but he doesn't outright give it to him because that would be too philanthropic for his image. He lets Ruggie think he's getting away with it. He doesn't want a "thank you" because he thinks he doesn't deserve it

he lets Ruggie bring his own laundry to be washed together with Leona's, while giving him his credit card to buy the nicest detergent and anything else he might want to buy at the Mystery Shop

the reason he doesn't wear his uniform jacket isn't because he just wants to break the dress code or make a statement, it's probably because he gave it to Ruggie. Hence why Ruggie's jacket is massive on him.

he skips his classes because he already knows everything they're teaching. he always shows up for tests, meaning he does keep track of when they are.

- personal note: he had all the NRC-level material drilled into him from a younger age than most as a prince. That level of focus on academics takes away time in your youth that you feel like your peers are spending having fun and having social lives. If i were him, going to classes where everyone around him got to learn something for the first time that he had been forced to memorize years ago would be really hard. It might be a reminder of how he had to grow up too soon. I personally relate a lot to being faced with the reality that every other student in your class didn't have the same amount of academic pressure put on them that you did and wanting to just curl up and cry at your desk. Being in classes where you already know everything or where other kids clearly have a lot less pressure on them can make you feel even more alone and hopeless and unloved than you already felt. it makes you grieve all the weeks and years of feeling like a workhorse instead of a child that you'll never get back. So i guess in that way I'm biased towards him and I completely support him skipping class :'3

he only got held back because of missed attendance. here are two important notes about that, in my opinion:

- firstly, he obviously doesn't want to go home. he also feels unenthusiastic about the 4th year internships even though he's going to take one in his home country and hopes to make some positive changes using his ideas. Still, he knows it will not come with the recognition and appreciation from his family he wants. Even if his ideas for oil mining fracking 🤮 bring great economic growth and can feed the children starving like Ruggie was, I doubt his older brother would see Leona for what he is or praise him as things stand now. hopefully that will come later in the story

- secondly, he wants to be held back and stay at NRC another year so his dorm can win the Spelldrive tournament against Diasomnia. He literally says that's the reason he is so desperate to for HIS TEAM (not him) to win that he puts himself in the position to be the bad guy and make the hard decisions he thinks he has to in Book 2! With the actual Spelldrive team, it's slightly different because Malleus isn't involved. It's interesting. In his Spelldrive Uniform home screen dialogues, he says winning is more important than doing your best... because he thinks his team wouldn't be happy with coming in second even knowing they did their best. I think he is blinded by self-hatred. I don't think what he seems to think is actually true. I think Epel and Jack and Ace and all the Savanaclaw members who bawled their eyes out when they thought he was turned into a Tsum are just happy to receive guidance from him. That makes him different from Azul or Kalim or Idia as housewardens, for example. They literally cry lollll. He knows all his Spelldrive players and they literally never shut the fuck up about how good of a coach he is and how attentive he is to their strengths and weaknesses. He doesn't even try to change them! He doesn't insult or belittle Epel when he wants to train to aim better, he literally just compliments how he is a great player in other ways and tells him not to change a thing. For no reason, bitch. He's such a fucking softie.

he buys us a drink in one of his chats, saying he "knows how to reward good service 😒". oh come on bro you're not fooling anyone, you probably weren't even thirsty anyway

he only went to Playful Land to keep an eye on the underclassmen because he's always like that. smfh

finally, if you pay close attention, he's really only rude to people who disrespect him first. OR to people who try to drag him into annoying shenanigans he doesn't want to be involved with. if someone did all that to me during a depressive episode i'd bite their head off, too -- which is every day because i have major clinical treatment-resistant depression and i feel like i know how he feels. i get where he's coming from :( and then they all STILL call him lazy. that is so fucking mean and hurtful. he is doing what he can. he's just sick. he is enough.

okay that's all i can think of right now i just really wanted to elaborate because AHHHHHHH. AAUUGHHHHH. EEEEEUEUUUUUUUUUUAUAG HE IS NOT LAZY AND HES NOT A DICK HE JUST HATES HIMSELF AND NONE OF IT IS HIS FAULT

and while i'm on the subject, Leona is actually NOT lazy or arrogant or selfish at all but some of yall are not ready for that conversation lol

[girlivealwaysbean]

on one hand completely ignoring your emotions is soo good for my mental stability and productivity but man i miss staring at the ceiling and listening to sad songs on loop

[cat-dragron]

you getting into 2 things with the word murder in them related to robotics is terrible (affectionate) bc i keep getting confused "that never happened in murder drones wha- OOOOOOH MurderBot"

GOD TELL ME ABOUT IT.

Literally like... I think at the peak of my Murder Drones fixation I went to the bookstore and saw MurderBot and almost picked it up solely because it had murder in the title and also construct/robot stuff. And now look at me...

[ohara-n-brown]

As a late diagnosed autist I will say one of the most damaging but transformative experiences I've ever had was being misdiagnosed with BPD.

Everyday my heart goes out to people with BPD.

The amount of stigma and silencing they face is astonishing and sickening.

I took DBT for years. Therapists use to turn me away because of my diagnosis.

I would be having full blown autistic meltdowns, crying for help literally - but because I was labeled as BPD ANY time I cried I was treated as manipulative and unstable.

As if the only reason I could be crying was if I was out to trick someone.

95% of the books out there with Borderline in the title are named shit like 'How to get away from a person with Borderline', 'How to stop walking on eggshells (with a person who has BPD)'

I was never allowed to feel true pain or panic or need.

That was 'attention seeking behavior', not me asking for help when a disability was literally inhibiting my ability to process emotions.

There were dozens of times where I had a full meltdown and was either threatened with institutionalization or told I was doing it for attention.

My failing relationships weren't due to a communication issue, or the inability to read social cues. No, because I was labeled borderline, my unstable relationships were my fault. Me beggong nuerotypicals to just be honest and blunt with what they meant was me pestering them for validation.

Borderline patients can't win.

And the funny thing is - I asked my therapist about autism. I told her I thought I was on the spectrum.

BPD is WILDLY misdiagnosed with those with autism and I had many clear signs.

Instead - she told me 'If you were autistic we wouldn't be able to have this conversation'. She made me go through a list of autistic traits made clearly for children, citing how I didn't fit each one.

And then she told me that me identifying with the autism community was the BPD making me search for identity to be accepted - and that I wasn't autistic, just desperate to fit in somewhere.

I didn't get diagnosed for another ten years. For ten years I avoided the autism community - feeling as if I were just a broken person who wanted to steal from people who 'really needed it'.

Because of my providers - I began to doubt my identity MORE, not less.

Ten years of thinking I was borderline and being emotionally neglected and demonized by a system meant to help me.

To this day, I still don't trust neurotypicals. Not fully.

I know I'm not borderline now - but my heart aches for them. Not for the usual stuff. But for the stigma. And the asshole doctors. And the dismissiveness and threatening and the idea of institutionalization hanging over their head.

I love Borderline people. I always will. I'm not Borderline but if you are I love you and I'm sorry.

You're not a bad person. You're not a therapists worst nightmare, you are a human with valid feelings and fears.

Borderline people I'm sorry.

[nezuscribe]

(slightly suggestive)

another little drabble for arranged marriage!gojo but imagine a moment before he confessed but something was looming over the two of you. it was crossing the line of friends, not necessarily husband and wife, but two people desperately in love and didn't know how to say it.

you were in one of your late-night frenzies, your brain so muddled with every thought that you decided to do what you knew best: bake.

you often find yourself in this situation as of late, but it truly seems to be the only thing that helps. you wanted to tell gojo how you were feeling, but it was too far in, so you decided something simple and sugary would help you in the moment.

at this point, the walk to the kitchens was something you could do blind, and considering how many times you did this, you already knew where all the ingredients were.

you set out your sugar and flower, and go rummaging in the cold cellar for some butter and eggs. you try not to think about how at dinner gojo slid closer to you, your arms touching as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. or how a couple days ago he had found you in the library, reading next to a windowsill, cozying up next to you as he read the book over your shoulder.

you're so lost in your head with sifting the ingredients that you fail to realize that the very man himself had come up secretly behind you, curiously watching you in your element.

(he'd never admit that he'd first gone to your room, and only came down here after he realized you were gone).

but, unlike the last couple of times, you'd gotten used to his stealthy ways. he was quiet, sure, but you could recognize him by his slight breath alone, or the way he smelled faintly of cloves.

you try not to let your breathing hitch, or let a smile grow on your face as you decide to break the silence.

"if you try to scare me while i'm baking you better rethink your choices," you warn him and hear gojo snicker quietly behind you.

gojo moves from where he was standing, and he leans his back against the counter next to you, craning his neck to look over at your bowl.

your eyes dart to the side, to the way his arms are resting behind him as he balances himself back on them (or the way his arms bulge and veins pop).

"what's on your mind tonight?" gojo asks, knowing you only do this now whenever you're stressed out.

"not much," you mutter, despite wanting to say you, you're on my mind.

he tsks, not buying your lie as he leans in a little close, his head blocking your view of your mixing bowl as he tries to get a little taste with his fingers.

"hey!" you cry, smacking him lightly on the back of his neck, "your hands are all grimy!"

you watch as he peers at you from the corner of his eyes, glaring at your offensive remark as he retracts away, a small pout on his face as you grin in slight victory.

"my hands are clean," you hear him mumble petulantly and you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his antics. the closer the two of you got, the more you found out that his closed-off and aloof demeanor was just a facade for a dramatic, grouchy man-child.

there's a comfortable silence for a moment, one where you're mixing and one where he watches you mix. you don't really notice the quiet anymore, just another added sound when you and gojo grow more comfortable together.

"how was your day?" he finally asks, a simple question, but you know he's using it as a mask to find out what was wrong with you.

"good," you say with a shrug, starting to gently fold in your wet mixture with your dry one, "you weren't at dinner so i was actually able to eat in peace," you add, trying to sound indifferent when really it's what spurred this entire thing on. how, when you realized that you missed seeing him, talking to him, being near him, you were really, really, missing him. and that's not how friends are supposed to act. or, at least, from what you've heard.

gojo smiles, a soft look on his face. you're trying to be sarcastic, he knows that, but there's something...deeper behind your words, something that he too feels.

"the eastern tribe took up more time than i thought they would," he explains, his blue eyes glowing when he notices the way you slightly relax, "i tried telling them that my wife was waiting for me, but apparently peace negotiations can't be postponed."

you bite your lips, trying to hold back your giddy smile at his words. you know he's probably teasing you, using the phrase my wife as a way to get out of a boring meeting, but you love it nonetheless.

he knows you do.

"those bastards," you murmur teasingly, hearing his loud laugh as he lightly shoves you with the point of his boot.

"yeah, well, they don't have wives back home," he crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips into a thin line, "so they don't know the feeling."

you swallow thickly, not looking over at him when he says that.

there's another silence as you continue to fold the batter, sensing that same feeling wash over the two of you.

"let me grab a..." you turn around, head craning to look for a spoon to dip in the batter, needing to make sure the sweetness wasn't too overbearing (and because you liked tasting the batter before it was sent off to be baked thoroughly), but stop when gojo pulls the bowl in closer to him.

you watch as he glides his finger across the sides, not letting it touch the actual bulk of the mixture, and brings it forth towards your lips.

his brows cock upwards, as if he was waiting for you to try it.

you give him a look, nose slightly wrinkled.

"i swear my hands are clean," he promises, crossing one hand over his chest as a sort of pledge, but that's not what holding you back, shouldn't he know that?

your mind is working to beat the thrill of your heart, the one that's pulling you towards him like a magnet, the one that desperately wants to have his finger in your mouth.

you bite your cheek for a second, eyes flickering up from his to his finger, and some sort of heat in you takes control as one hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your parted lips.

your tongue darts out, your mouth closing over the digit as you taste the sugary batter coating your tongue. you feel dizzy, your stomach twisting, a heat taking over your body as your tongue swipes over it, licking it clean.

it's nothing overexaggerated, nothing too crazy. you lick his finger the way you'd like your own, but fuck, this isn't your own finger and gojo's looking at you with his pupils blown wide, the blacks overtaking the blue in his eyes.

your hand is still holding his wrist, your lips gliding over it as you pull away, breathing slightly less when you glance up at him.

gojo swallows thickly, hoping you don't see the bulge that's growing in his pants.

"good?" he chokes out, his voice thick in his throat.

"yeah," you mutter, the batter still lingering on your tastebuds, "it's perfect."

fuck, you're both screwed.

[st-fanfic-bookclub]

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[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[thargelalia]

see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?” 

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care. 

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace. 

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory. 

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble. 

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course. 

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him. 

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!” 

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes. 

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it. 

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.” 

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.” 

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air. 

He lowers it, closing his mouth. 

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride. 

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”  

There’s a shocked gasp. 

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips. 

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.” 

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?” 

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?” 

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile. 

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.” 

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

[bks-writing-adventures]

Four Is Plenty (Aemond X Pregnant! Reader)

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, mentions of poop and genitals.

When Aemond married you, he had many things envisioned. But this was not one of them. Watching you waddle around, grumbling and mumbling as you dropped your book. He smiled, trying to not look too amused. It hadn’t taken you long to get pregnant at all, for two weeks after your wedding night, blood did not fill the chamberpot. It became clear very quickly that you were pregnant, and now, at nine months, you were just moments away from bursting.

He had never seen a woman look so humongous, but of course he would not tell you that. “Allow me to help, my love,” He spoke, picking up her book and pressing kisses to her fingertips. He and the lords had an ongoing bet going, since they were all certain that you had more than one baby trapped up inside you. His bet was three, and Ser Criston was sure it would only be one humongous baby. 

“I hate this.” You mumbled, and he sighed softly in response as his hands moved to cup your stomach. He had read all the books he could find on pregnancy and child care, his palms on the bottom of your belly, lifting gently to help relieve you of your pain.

 “Do not fret. It will be any day now, and you will feel better than ever before,” He spoke, rubbing over the stretchmarks that formed all over your belly like tiger stripes. “

I am simply excited to be able to sleep on my belly again,” You grumbled, whining as he slowly let go of your belly, leaving you to deal with all the weight again. “I hope the birth is not too great of a pain, and I hope the midwives do not scream in my face,” You spoke, and he smiled as he kissed both of your cheeks. They had gotten nice and round with your weight gain, and he absolutely loved the way you looked. 

“I promise they will not. I will be there the whole time,” He spoke, stroking your hair.

 “Hm…” You mumbled, moving to go take your afternoon nap, a pillow at her lower back to relieve the ache. He laid in bed next to you, tracing his fingers over your nose and hairline, your collarbone and your belly. He was addicted to touching you, watching your cheeks get pink, feeling your breath along his wrist. As he traced small swirls onto your swelling belly, he felt a wetness forming under him. His brows scrunched, and he quickly sat up, the breath leaving his lungs when he saw your lounge gown covered in fluid.

Your water had broke. He cleared his throat, trying his best not to panic as he quickly got to his feet and rang the bell he had installed just for this occasion. Slowly, your eyes began to open up. You were so sleepy that you felt as though your eyes wer glued shut, eyes getting wide as you felt the soggy blankets under you. It felt so gross and sticky that you could cry, and you did, as the room began to flood with people. It was so stressful, and you could hardly think as they propped you up and started wiping your head and face with a cold cloth. 

“It is okay, my lady. It is okay, simply spread your legs and let us look,” One of them said lightly. She was young and calm, and her attitude was slowly melting into you. It made you feel much better that they were not freaking out, that they seemed confident that you would be just fine. And maybe you would be. From a young age, it was one of your greatest fears to die in childbirth- and hesitantly, your thighs parted, and you let one of the midwives take a peek. 

“Okay, we are at one inch,” She said quietly. You weren’t sure how much it was supposed to be, but the smile on her face made you smile too, nodding slowly. Aemond was over educated on the ways of birth, and you had chosen to remind blissfully ignorant. That way, you would be less afraid when the time came. And less afraid you were, eyes wandering across the ceiling. You had spent your days painting it, and from down here, the small patches that you were able to paint looked so insignificant. 

“When this baby is out, I will make a portrait of us.. Right there,” You spoke, pointing up at the ceiling, right at the center. 

“I’m sure it will be beautiful,” He said gently, kissing your palm. 

“Do you have any ideas for names, My Lady?” one of the midwives asked, and your mind wandered. You were not a big fan of most Targaryen names, as they sounded rather silly. But there were one or two that you would not mind.

 “I like Aenys, for a boy,” You said, noticing how Aemond sighed quietly against your hand. 

“I would prefer Maegor,” He said gently, and you smiled in return. 

“That is nice, dear. But as I said, I like the name Aenys. And for a girl….” You trailed off, trying to think. Too many Valyrian girl names sounded the same. There was already a Rhaenys, a Rhaenyra, and a Rhaena. Family dinners were getting far too complicated. 

“What about Alysanne?” Your husband asked softly, brows scrunched as he looked down between your legs. He would be lying if he said that it was a pleasant sight, and he swallowed his discomfort as his eye wandered back to your face, watching a pleasant expression grow on your features. 

“Alysanne. That is sweet. I like that,” You nodded, not knowing what was to come. As the hours grew later, you grew rather bored. Your stomach grumbled, but you could not eat, the nurses insisting that you would throw any food right up.

 “This child sure is taking its time,” You commented as you made an attempt to sit up, the midwives gently nudging your shoulders. “Relax,” You told them quietly, eyes narrowing a little. “I can move,” You spoke, reaching toward the bedside table for your latest read.

 “Shall we get the maesters to quicken the process?” One offered, and you pondered the thought before gently shaking your head. “I would prefer not to be surrounded by men,” You said, licking your finger tip as you pulled on the brittle page of your book, your eyes wandering over the words. “The child will come when it is ready,” You mumbled. The night was tense, and with every breath, the midwives jumped. It would not be for a few hours that you let out a loud grunt, gripping your belly. “Gods above!” You shouted, and Aemond jumped to your side. You hadn’t realized just how sharp the pains would be, your toes curling up. 

“Its okay, its okay,” He mumbled, trying to soothe you. You let out a loud groan, holding air in your lungs as your midwife let you know that you were at two inches or so.

 “Is that good?” You choked out, and Aemond smiled at you, all of his teeth showing. It was a rare sight, as he usually kept his expressions to the absolute minimum. 

“Very good, my love. Within the hour, we will have a babe in our arms,” He murmured, and you had never seen him look so proud. And like magic, when half an hour passed, you grunted loudly, clawing into his leather jacket, leaving crescent moons of your nails in the fabric. 

“Shh, shhhh….” He murmured, and you almost shouted at him. It took a second to realize he wasn’t trying to hush you, but rather trying to comfort you, and slowly, you let him. 

“It is crowning, my lady!” A midwife whispered, her eyes full of awe. It was an odd feeling, being a spectacle. Everyone just staring at your vagina. 

“Thats… nice,” You mumbled, your face scrunching up as they rubbed our face with a cold cloth. 

“You’re doing incredible, my lady. Perhaps the best i’ve ever seen.” A voice said gently, helping to hold your legs apart. Your cheeks got pink, and you curled up a little. You grunted loudly, your face bright red as you felt all your muscles tense and relax, your eyes snapping open. This was the grossest thing ever, and a maid simply pulled the bedpan out from beneath you, going to a small bin to simply throw out your mess as crying filled the room. Your hands reached for your face, and to your great surprise, the cries were not your own, and when you finally looked down, you could see the midwives gently touching the shoulders of an infant, helping to pull out the child. 

“Be careful!” You shouted loudly. 

“I am, my lady. The most careful I can be,” You had to praise the midwives, you could never have the patience. You felt a bit bad for yelling, but the pain overrid any guilt you could feel. 

“That is one…” Aemond whispered softly, tracing over your arm. 

“Do you wish to cut the cord?” He was offered.  You mumbled softly, looking away as they gave him scissors. It made you anxious. You just had to hope he wouldn’t mess things up, sighing in relief as they finally put the infant on your chest. It was slightly slimy and still red in the face, wailing quietly. But gods, was it the best thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Is it a boy or a girl?” You whispered softly, looking up to be met with Aemond’s glowing face. 

“A boy,” He whispered softly, and you felt your eyes getting wet as the baby suckled on your chest, getting nice and quiet. 

“Aenys.” You mumbled quietly, and for a few minutes, everything was calm, until you felt a rumble in your tummy.

 “Is it the after birth?” One of the midwives asked, coming to your help, eyes going wide as she stared at you. 

“What?” You asked softly, looking over at Aemond as he leaned over, too. 

“Its another!” He exclaims, his voice joyous and loud. 

“Shhhh…” You mumbled, eyes shut. You were so focused on the baby on your breast, and it didn’t even hurt anymore. Everything was a daze as they whispered and squealed, and before you knew it, another baby was crying, and your brows were furrowed. 

“Twins..” You mumbled, smiling a little as they put the baby on your other breast. “Boy or girl?” You murmured softly, too exhausted to look. 

“A girl,” Aemond told you gently, rubbing your shoulders, squeezing the tension out with his thumbs. 

“A girl..” You repeated, smiling lazily. “Hmmm…” You grumbled, ignoring the rest of the sounds around her. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore, but no one seemed afraid, so slowly, you drifted to sleep. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you woke, but you could hear about a dozen voices, and feel cloth over your body. Your eyes cracked open slowly, the afternoon light assaulting your irises, making you hiss softly in distaste. 

“The curtains,” You heard a voice say, and lovely shade covered you, following the sound of the curtain rings dragging across the rods. 

“I have never seen so many newborns at once,” As the sleepiness began to fade away, you could focus on the voices more, and slowly, you began to sit up. In your unconscious state, they had put you in a nice, powder blue nightgown, and your hair was pulled away from your face, fresh sheets on the bed. You must have been as still as stone. 

“Ah, she is awake,” you felt a hand come to your head, frowning for a moment before your eyes focused, seeing your mother in law in front of you. 

“You must be exhausted, but you have done us all so proud,” she said gently, kissing the top of your head. She was holding a baby, but it was not one that you had seen, and for a moment, you didnt’ even think it was yours, until you saw those pudgy cheeks and strong browbone. Your eyes slowly wandered. There were four cribs in the room. Your heartbeat picked up, blinking slowly. “Quadruplets. I cannot believe it,” Alicent spoke, but her voice slowly faded out. Four. You hadn’t been ready for that, you ready for two, at most. 

“We set Aenys aside so we do not confuse him for the others,” Aemond said softly, coming toward you, a baby in each arm. One swaddled in violet, the other in a rosy color. 

“Two boys and two girls. I have never seen anything more perfect,” He whispered softly. “Do you want to hold the girls? You haven’t named them yet. Though, i’ve been calling this one Alysanne, and she seems to like it,” he says, kissing the forehead of the one wrapped in rosy plush. She was surely the runt of the litter, her little nose twitching with his kiss. You hummed, gently taking the other, the one wrapped in violet satin. Once you could get a good look at her face, you smiled at the wisps of gold and white along her scalp, curling up into little coils. Her cheeks were rosy and fat, and her brows were practically invisible.

 “...Daeryn. Rynnie for short,” You spoke, and he smiled softly. 

“I hope you do not mind, wife, but I decided to name the other boy,” He said sheepishly, making your brows raise. You did not mind, of course, you just hoped that it wasn’t an ugly name. While he enjoyed the name Maegor, you found it rather boring, it tasted like sour ash on your tongue. “Do not worry, I did not name him Maegor,” He spoke, practically reading your mind, and Helaena spoke up from her seat by the window. 

“I would not let him.” She says, making you smile. 

“So what is this wonderful name you picked?” You asked, looking up at him as Daeryn’s little hand curled around your finger. 

“Aelorn,” He spoke, his expression hopeful. It was not your favorite name, but seeing his expression, so sweet and genuine, you nodded. 

“I like it.” You said softly, letting him give you the smallest of kisses on your dry lips. 

“We will have to have more clothes made,” He said softly, letting out a small laugh. 

“You may use the ones I have from the twins,” Helaena spoke up, setting her embroidery project down on her lap. Curious, you looked over, seeing fou little baby faces stitched into the fabric, your heart warming up at the sight. 

“So, when will you start trying again?” Alicent asked, half teasing and half serious, making Aemond blink slowly.

 “Trust me, Mother. Four is plenty.” He smiled, and you could not help but agree. Yesterday, you expected one child. And now you had enough to last a lifetime. And honestly? You’d never been happier.

Thank you so much to everyone who reads! I'm thinking about having the quadruplets as recurring characters and making a little mini-series of them growing up. Thoughts?

[pedge-page]

Ok can I request something maybe out there. but sedation kink with doctor Joel. like I’m kind of into the idea of doctor/scientist prepping me for an exam or study and putting me under, reassuring and stroking my face because I’ve never been under anesthesia before and he wipes my few tears as I drift off. then he’s fondling me, putting my legs in stirrups, and observing my reactions to different stimuli like fingers, a brush, vibrator, mouth, putting cooling/tingly cream on my nipples/clit, etc., as I’m out and making notes and taking polaroids of my reactions like little twitches and noises, how wet I get, if my nipples react (if he can make me cum by just my nipples) edging me and im making little tired whines but eventually making me cum a few times while I’m out and he’s just watching what happens from down there and talking into his little mic that’s recording all this. then if I start to come to too early he tuts and asks if I want to stay under and I’m still out of it but drowsily say yes because I’m confused but feels good and he (safely) gives me some a little bit more of sedation just enough to keep me in that floaty place and starts fucking me so good that I actually come to while he’s inside and I fully come to as he’s removing the monitors and telling me how good I was for him and asking if it felt good and he’s giving me some water and kissing me telling me it’s okay to sleep because I’m still tired as he cleans me up so he can take us both home.

A Doctor’s Care

Doctor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Nonny, you practically wrote this yourself. Please give yourself a massive pat on the back, because this was a fantastic idea. I've been foaming at the mouth about it for months (I'm so sorry It took so long!) Hope you're still around to read this!

Warnings : virgin!Reader, corrupt!doctor, corruption kink, sedation kink, non-con, oral, throat fucking, squirting, sex toys, nipple play, unprotected sex, kinda DDDNE-ish , groping, slight breeding kink, pussy pronouns, foot fetish, uhhhh please lmk if I'm missing anything

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“Now, you can start counting up to ten.”

You take a deep breath, trying you best to ignore the needle he had just inserted into your arm. “One, two, th-three, fooour, f-fi…”

He softly brushes your smoothed cheek, watching as your eyelids sag, the heavy lure of sleep washing over your entire body. Your muscles sink into the bed, eyes barely being able to close fully. You had never felt more relaxed. Up to this point, you were an axnious mess, but you knew you were in the good, trustworthy hands of Doctor Miller.

A stray tear wells up, threatening to spill. He smiles warmly and brushes it away for you. He doesn’t want to see you cry when you don’t even know why.

If you were a little more observant, you would have questioned why it was only Dr Miller moving forward with an anesthesia-induced operation. Typically there’s always more than one practitioner in the room. You would have wondered why nobody else was in the hospital at all.

 He told you he could make a special booking for your physical exam, just the two of you, to help alleviate any anxiety about the scary aura of a hospital, the sick people roaming around and watching, peeping in through the doors. He made sure you were the only one here today, to help you get comfortable and have nothing to worry about.

Of course, it is Sunday. Nobody operates on Sunday. The hospital was completely empty save for his office and this room.

Not only is this out of standard procedure, this was off the books.

This was illegal, and you had no idea.

“Dr. Miller, log 47,” he says into his little recorder. “Patient is sedated fully. Heartrate and breathing—“ he gently hovers his fingers rigor below your nose, his eyes scanning the beeping monitor next to you—“ normal and stable. Beginning examination.”

Maybe, if you were smart, you would have also questioned why you needed to be sedated for a basic physical exam. You didnt ask what a physical really entailed, which gave him the perfect excuse for... well. This.  

Joel had offered you some privacy before where he left his office to allow you to change your day clothing into the sterile gown. Such gentlemanly, professional attitude is tossed out the door as he doesn’t hesitate to unfasten the front, popping the buttons off one by one. He starts at your chest, exposing the silk smooth curve of your breasts. “Beautiful, healthy body,” he breathes. Every entimeter of your skin is observed closely. He continues, making his way down to your stomach, admiring your naval with his thick hand petting softly over your belly and unbuttoning down your hips. “I can already see excellent shape for reproduction, should she choose…”

He grins, now having you fully exposed to him under the bright light. Joel places his recorder in his chest pocket, leaving the mic on so he can continue to do his work with both steady hands.

“Fuck me,” he groans, the tent in his slacks already pressing against the cool metal table under you. He adjusts himself slightly, no concern for the perversion of his hard cock jutting out in the open as he brushes it against your legs and arms while circling you.

Dr. Miller was a practiced man. He'd lifted enough unconscious body parts throughout his career, being careful yet precise. It took him no time to hoist your legs into the cradled bend of the stirrups, spread wide and slightly elevated so that your core was exposed.

“Testing reactivity,” he says before pressing your feet with his thumbs. He massages your arch, feeling the tendons shift and resist. His lips ghost the ball of your foot. "Smooth here too. The skin of the feet haven't started callousing yet." Joel’s wet tongue glides along the crevice, thick and warm, before sucking on your toes, lubricating them with his tongue over and over again. He moans, closing his eyes and palming his bulge. You don’t seem to stir at all, but he does briefly catch the way your eyeballs shift underneath your lids, brows drawing then releasing.

He pushes the stirrups forward more, hands on the backs of your thighs until your knees are bent, as if ready to birth.

“Very healthy looking patient below the waist. I’ll need to taste more—test more before the insertion.”

Joel shifts along your side, and with no hesitation, grasps your tits roughly. He scrunches and squeezes tightly, pushing your nipples out until they’re hardened and swollen. He loves the way they feel in his big palms. It was last week when you let him do a breast exam, he was able to fondle them to his liking. He wanted to give them a taste then, but knew you weren’t ready for that.

Consciously, anyway.

A hot month descends upon your breast, and he glances up once again to see your reaction. He rolls your nip around and around before biting lightly. That receives a flinch. He smiles, sucking harder. They’re so warm and firm in his mouth, and he can’t help but suckle along them with fat suctioning sound each time he releases. “Very good potential for milk. Bet she’d make the sweetest milk.” He draws away, grabbing something from the table next to him. “Documenting …” he dabs some freezing cream directly onto your nipple and snaps a picture when your head jolts in surprise. Little sounds get lodged in your throat as he rubs it into your skin, kneading your mounds like dough. “Pretty thing…” he whispers seductively. 

He alternates between his hot mouth and the cold cream, watching your head toss slightly here and there. Your heartrate had also picked up, beeping a little more fervently. Nothing major, but a few beats per minute quicker than before. 

“We’re gonna stress her breathing next,” he sighs, moving up above your head. He feels your collar bone, working his hands up along your esophagus and underneath your neck. Pressing slightly to watch how much further your chest expands for air to ensure you’re still adjusting breath properly. 

Dr Miller unzips his trousers, his hard length falling free and slapping your forehead. He chuckles lazily, rolling it over and over, his tip nudging your nose and closed eyes. You’re so compliant like this. Not even a peep of protest as he nestles his balls overtop your sockets and pushes his head against your soft lips. 

“Seeing how well she can take …foreign objects…obstructing the jugluar.”

He presses in, your lips parting of their own accord to accomodate the intruder. “Ughhh,” he growls. His hands splay along the table, inching himself forward with a roll of his hips. Your jaw opens wider, forced to take the growing girth of his member. A strangled noise hiccups in your throat, and he immediately draws out. The monitor by your side beeps loudly before returning to a regular pace.

He aligns himself again and fucks your mouth, this time further than before until the mushroom tip is bulging in your throat.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh,” he moans heavenly. He pulls out, lets you breathe, then forces it deeper.  Again and again until you’re taking him for five seconds at a time, deeper and deeper, the table rattling with his incessant humps. “Fuck..you take that, swallowing my cock like a princess, you take cock so good little slut.”

He thrusts in and out until he’s on the verge of cumming. Slipping his cock out the final time, he grips the base, growling to keep his orgasm down. He’d been thinking about it a long time, where he’d defile you last with his seed. As tempting as your tight throat was, he knew there was better ways to make you his confidential patient, forever and always. 

Your vital signs were steady again, although more elevated than you started. Your head twitched to the side slightly, eyeballs rolling under your eyelids. Your body can sense something is happening externally, but cannot rouse itself to intercept. 

He smiles, stroking your spit stained cheeks. “You’re doin’ very well, sweet pea.” its one of his favorite things about these types of exams. Watching how much a patient's instinct tries to fight his ministrations. Yet failing under the sedation and trusting senses of its owner.

For the next hour, Dr. Miller plays with your body. He’s inserted a bullet vibrator up your vaginal walls, controlling its speed and intensity on the little device. With each change in setting, your body reacted differently. Your hips bucked involuntarily, head swayed side to side. Hums of pleasure bubbled in your chest and out your nose, straining to make a coherent noise. He watched, spreading your folds so your little clit was perfectly on display. She throbbed, swelling to an engorged state. So vibrantly colored, filled with blood as he sets her nerves ablaze. 

He’d press his warm lips to her before patching it with a cubed ice. Your body didn’t like that, stomach tensing and knees wanting to lock. He had to get the stirrups tightened around your calves to keep you spread open for him. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers quietly against your thigh, his plush lips ghosting the inside. He’s left his mic on recording, giving himself the freedom to savor your goosebumps for himself. 

Dr Miller circled around you again, viewing your exposed chest. Your nipples were stiff, and he makes note about how erect they’d become since starting your test. He presses his mouth there, his fingers dancing south to come in contact with your drooping pussy. He’s got a little cup underneath your butt, to capture any of your juices that might leak from his ministrations. For extra (taste) testing in the future.

With his mouth on your breast and three fingers rubbing your clit in clockwise motion, Joel suckles and fingers you with deadly precision.

 “Trying to make the patient—“ his tongue circles over your nipple thrice before nipping at your nipple, sucking it to a point—“reach climax.” 

He spanks your pussy, rewarding himself with a quiver from your body. “That’s it babygirl, you feel that?” He slaps it again, your body jolting, but his teeth sink further into the flesh of your boob to keep your chest in place.

He removes his hand entirely, focusing solely on sucking your tits. There’s a little device wedged inside you, not unlike the bullet vibrator, but this one can sense contractions. It connects to a monitor across the room, recording the pulses inside your pussy.

“That’s it—I see it—she’s working up to it—“ he sucks harder on your tits, swallowing his own saliva, eyes desperately strained to see your cunt reflected back on him on the TV and the matching pulses growing next to it.

The lines reach their heightened point, and your body wreathes appropriately as you cum. Your poor little cunny, contracting around nothing as you orgasm from his tongue on your breasts alone. 

“I want to see if I can just—“ he slips his hand back down to your pussy, diving three fingers in at once and rapidly squelching upward towards that gummy part inside. 

Suddenly, you let out an audible yelp, knees folding inward as liquid gushes from your opening. 

“Oohhhh yes, that’s a good girl, that’s a good girl!” He praises, smirking as you continue to squirt all over his palm and splash onto the floor. The fucking cup wouldn’t capture all of it, an he’d have to really clean up. But he wasn’t expecting such promising results. 

“She’s well hydrated for sure.”

By the way you shake your head, eyes starting to peep over, it doesn’t seem like you knew you could squirt either.

“Shhhh,” he hums, putting his palm over your eyes to block the light. “Rest now, you’re in good hands. Do you want to keep sleeping?” He glances over at the IV bag, already dripping another extra droplet into your system. “You’re so warm and safe here. Let’s rest a little more.”

You let out a sigh, eyes closed and nodding slightly before falling to the side, back into a deep state of unconsciousness.

How pathetic you can’t even tell your lower half is soaking wet of your own doing.

He makes his way back to stand between your legs, kicking away the little rolling stool. 

“See how well this pussy takes a real poundin.’” He pumps his shaft along your slick entrance, dabbing it repeatedly and grinning at how wet it sounds. He’d been edging himself this whole time. Not just this evening, but the entire few months he’s been you ever doting, caring, overly invested doctor, waiting to get you right here, spread out for him.

“She’s still so soft, so tight,” he gulps with a pant. Your chest was inflating up and down more quickly, so he knew you could feel something happening. “You’re doin’ great, baby. Just—just a little more—“

He notches the tip along your weeping hole. “She’s so patient for me.” He wonders if you’ll feel this in the morning when you wake.

Sliding in the first inch, Joel opens his jaw in silent prayer, head tilted back towards the ceiling. He pushes in again, feeling the first bit of resistance from your walls. Shit, he knew you were a virgin. You had marked it embarrassingly during one of the first appointments where he intimately needed to know all your sexual activities. You’d admitted having masturbated, which he encouraged as healthy, though the truth was so that he wouldn’t have to try too hard to stretch you out at this exact moment. Luckily he had loosened you up pretty well with his fingers and tongue this good hour, so when the good doctor pulls out then thrusts half his length in one go, you can’t offer any more rebellion to it.

When he finally bottoms out, he lets out a satisfied whimper. His cheek turned upright into a selfish, wicked grin. “Fuck, your pussy looks so good around my cock,” he says loudly, taunting the fact that you couldn’t retort even if you could hear him properly. He hasn’t had any relevant, professional notes to take for a long while now, instead resorting to little ‘fuckfuckfuck’s as he thrusts his hips in and out of your now loosened cunt. 

He reaches for the wand vibrator, switching it on and positioning it right at your clit, against the base of his dick. Its whirs to life, making your whole body contract in on itself.

“Auuggghhhh fuck yeah—fuck that’s it sweet girl—just feel that—feelin’ it so good.” He continues to fuck you open, biting his tongue and watching you shift with each rut into your unconscious body. Your eyelashes flutter, instinct fighting to get you awake. Jesus he wants it—wants you to wake up right fucking now, see what he’s doing to you. The way your eyes would float, confused, coming into focus as the trusted doc is battering your once pure insides in the name of your health. 

You didn’t know he’d already been fired and relocated from 6 different hospitals across the country for this exact reason. Granted, most anyone could report was inappropriate behavior and groping. He’d have his way with girls like you, in this exact position before. If anybody ever fully caught on to this, he’d be strung up in jail by now.

Whines bubble up from your chest as he gropes your tit with one hand, swirling the wand around your nub with the other. It takes a few minutes of on and off before he feels you clenching around him and cumming. Your back arches slightly, gasping through your mouth. He has to steady himself with his hands flat on either side of the observation table, hunched over and ramming into you while you’re still squeezing the fuck out of him. He likes the way your juices splash down his thighs and balls with each puncture. He’s a good doctor though, making sure you wouldn’t bleed or tear throughout this rough ordeal. He’s a proper man when it comes to his practice.

“Shit, shit—babydoll—fuckyeah this pussy—I’m not gonna be able to give this one up--“ He hums to himself, eyes shut.

You barely register the fact that you’re coming to. Your eyes are slitted but the tunnel vision is still so strong. Foggy and muffled, you can feel your body moving but can’t bring your muscles to do anything about it.

“D-J-oel,” you rasp, eyes fluttering close again as you definitely feel something deep within your stomach. You’re still so out of it, half your senses fading and drawing while being stimulated, unable to fully reach your brain. Your body is screaming to wake up though despite the tempting lull back to sleep. So you open your eyes again, rollin them around you. Your vision becomes clearer, still blurring but able to make outlines and lights now. Still in the hospital, still with the bright lights, still with Doctor Miller—

Doctor Miller, standing between your spread, naked legs with his wet, hard and long cock disappearing in and out of you. Doctor Miller, cursing and staring at where your bodies join, oblivious to your aroused state. Doctor Miller, telling you sweet words like how he’s gonna take you home, he’s gonna keep you like this till you’re full of him, then he's really gonna watch you grow, none of it really making coherent sense to you at the moment.

But there is that feeling inside, deep within your core that’s growing. Everything feels so wet and hot at the same time. He’s incessantly rubbing something delicious, electrocuting your nerves to an awakened state so far more than anything else.

You let out a strangled moan, and his head shoots up, watching you roll your neck and look around. Your sounds get louder, jaw flexing to let them loose.

He's been caught, and he doesn’t stop. “Fuck-fuck babygirl that’s it—M’takin real good care of ya—watch…watch me…watch me when ya cum—“ he groans, gripping your hips and slamming into you almost abusively. 

“Ah-ah-ah-ah!” You wail, unable to tear your limited vision away from him as he ruts like a dog in heat, his hips humping your ass. 

He lets out a startled bark, stilling inside you all the way. That makes your eyes fly wide open, more awake now than before as you start to cum around him. You don’t know what’s happening, don’t understand it and yet your body only knows pleasure, and that’s what your brain releases all over your insides and out. He’s so warm inside, filling you with something hot and sticky. 

There’s a thin sheen of sweat on you, and even greater on him. He pulls out, mummuring some  praise at your pearly, pulsing slit. Your heart is pounding, but body exhausted, like you’d been at this for a while now. You can’t move your head, and your eyes feel heavy once again.

“Hey, hey,” he coos softly next to you. He cups your face in his big hands, bringing you to look at him. “Hey there, angel. How we feeling? You did amazing.”

He feels gentle, touching your fuzzy spots all over again like honey. “Mmm,” you nod. 

He smiles, beginning to turn off the monitors and unhook you from the sensors. “Did such a great job for me, never had a patient as good as you.” He kisses your forehead, long and comforting. now with the needle out, you still feel drowsy, but with his reassuring words and touches, you don’t feel the need to get up any time soon.

“Here, drink this—“ he hands you a little platic cup of water with a straw. You take a few sips, suddenly feel a massive, near painful pressure in your throat, like something had been lodged there not long ago. Coughing slightly, you give him back the cup, falling back against the headrest.

“Shhh, it’s okay. No need to fight it. You can keep resting.” He kisses you on the lips, silencing any protest. Your brain still feels so floaty, you don’t even question the way his tongue swipes along your teeth. You don’t care, enjoying the way he’s treating you so well after the procedure. He makes you feel safer than ever.

“Gonna clean you up now. Take you home.”

Of course, you don’t think about it, as he makes you feel so at home now. You quickly fall back asleep. Joel wheels you out of the room, down towards his un-registered truck and into the back where he whisks you away to your very new, very permanent, very secluded "home." 

- - - -

Taglist:

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[moonlightcycle571]

Captain Marvel being a Girl Dad (Raven)

Captain Marvel should have a mentor/dad brotherly relationship with Raven, Zatanna and any of the Wonder fam. In this Essay, I will-

Actually I will. Starting off with Raven.

She deserves a magic mentor and non evil father figure in her life. Swoops in Cap who offers to transfer Trigon to the Rock of Eternity / the Monster Lands, both able to hold Trigon his end of demonic life.

Are you telling me Raven would see this happy Pitbull of a man and not get attached? Are you also telling me Billy wouldn’t jump at the chance to show her the Rock? Lend her books from the Library of the Rock, which might as well be the magical Library of Alexandria, at the first hint of interest?

Although Billy would see it as having friend to talk about his special interest (magic) and sharing it with them. Raven sees is as a new mentor figure.

Captain: And this book is one of my absolute favourites (it’s a book given to a past champion and remembers it like it’s his own)

Raven: Thanks Dad

Captain, is used to people calling him dad (dad Marvel au): anytime 😁😁😁

Raven, inwardly: this confirms it, I have a new dad 🥳

which I’m pretty sure would have this

Captain, noticing a really good book but it’s in a forgotten language: do you want me to read this book to you?

Raven, who never had a bed time story in her life: I’m winning

Also this

Captain: oh no, I lost my (league communication device) phone

Raven, unashamed: sure

Phone rings: Dad, you’re my Dad! Wookie Wookie Wookie

The rest of the Titans:

Raven: smug

Captain: Thanks :)

If Billy gets an apartment from his Whiz Job, with a hidden portal he made to the Rock and it has spare rooms so he gives one to Raven, that’s their business

Dad Marvel AU: everyone fighting on who’s the favourite child

Raven: well at least I get to live with him

Everyone: …

Raven: And he reads to me, and cooks for me AND helps me with my extracurricular (magic training)

Everyone: *definetely not crying*

Bonus:

Beast Boy is like a son-in-law that turns son figure. Or is he a son figure turned son-in-law?

Beast Boy: I can turn into a tiger

Marvel: Welcome to the family

Beast Boy:

Beast Boy, tearing up: happy to be here

If this is before or after he started dating Raven, that’s up to you.

Bonus 2:

Captain Marvel and Raven meditating next to a magic waterfall cause Billy knew a good spot to help relax

Random explorer, who was searching for said waterfall for years cause it’s rumoured to have magic properties: I-

Takes a picture and captions “tracked down a site for seven months, took 3 months to find location and one more to get to it. This is what I fuckin find.” #Capesknowtoomuch #pleaseshareinfirmation and #gatekeepingisntheroic

The post went viral. #BigRedCheese&GothDaughter

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 6

<-former chapter -AO3-next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.1k

MDNI MDNI READ THE TAGS

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy, pregnancy

Authors note: this is unedited until I pull myself together and fix it tomorrow. Thank u for your patience while I stumbled through life.Enjoy sinners.❤️

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You found him in the living room alone, reading. Your uncertainty made you whine, your fear of him actually getting rid of you overtaking you once more.

“John?” Your voice was barely above a whisper and you slowly crawled closer to him in the armchair, leaning against one of his legs, carefully looking up at him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He lowered his book, a soft smile on his face, looking down at you with a gaze you had missed. A look shared just between the two of you, with an understanding and loving gentleness that made your heart swell. Nikolai was outside, having forced John to stay. To relax.

“Are you going to ban me from the house?” Your voice shook a little, for once not dramatic in any way or using it to get attention; it was from genuine worry of being abandoned, “or get a new lapdog?”

You could see it happen honestly, some cute little thing that was everything you were insecure about. Having spent a whole life being forced and told to be a lapdog, suddenly being pushed out of that box felt weird. It scared you, the thought of Price not wanting you back inside then, not a good enough working dog but not a good enough lapdog either. You’d never had full control over your life - and once again, your fate was in the hands of somebody else.

John blinked down at you while you tipped your ears down a little, tail still while you waited for the reply.

Waiting for your upcoming future to be revealed; to be forced to be an outdoor dog, just for your owner to find a new sweet thing to cast his love upon. Somebody who accepted everything without question.

“Oh, princess,” the softness almost took you by surprise and then his warm hand was on your head, gently petting you and you felt your eyelids lower as little, breathing in the love, “my sweet darling puppy.”

A whimper left you.

“I have not been giving you enough attention, have I?” He was whispering too now.

“I just -“ you hadn’t planned to cry but you felt the tears threaten to break free from your eyes, “I know you want me to get along with the others but I don’t wanna lose you, I don’t -“

His hands moved and suddenly the book slid down to the floor, while you were grabbed beneath your armpits and you were more than happy to help crawl up in his lap.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin as you nuzzled closer, both his and your own arms sliding around to hold around the other. Intertwined. Your soft body was pulled tight against your owner and you breathed in the pure scent of him, feeling your tail wagging even as you sniffled a little.

“I will never get rid of you,” he whispered, “no matter what happens, you’re my princess puppy. My sweet darling, my perfect Daisy, eh?”

You nodded into his neck, your fingers digging into his clothes. Trying to make your brain understand the words, accept them, try to keep your anxieties away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered but Price just gave you a squeeze.

“Don’t apologise,” he answered gently in his own whisper, “I’m sorry, darling, we’re not going back to the city but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve my attention. Misbehaving or not.”

You cried into his neck, one of his hands gently petting your back, his hand a calming touch as your rib cage shuddered now and again.

“I love you, sir.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl,” he promised, “even when Nikolai moves in permanently or when you get along more with the boys, you’ll always be my favorite girl, my favorite puppy. Got it?”

“Yessir,” it was barely a whisper any more. Settled in his lap, you might have been instantly fucking in the past, but for now the two of you just enjoyed each others closeness.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Outside the safety of the farmhouse that you never wanted to live in, laid the dangerous grounds; filled with terrifying animals and farm hands that tease you, with creepy sheep that screamed, with threatening fields that seemed never ending yet the fear of the unsafe on the other end seemed worse.

There was the stench of so many things, so many objects that could offer pain, animals that could attack, hybrids that could bite.

But you had found one single spot that you supposed you liked.

… a little bit.

Not if anybody asked.

You carefully pet the head of one of the mothers, as it bleated at you, eyes carefully watching you. Whether it didn’t find you dangerous or remembered you from the other day, you weren’t sure - and it wasn’t like you could ask it.

But none of them attacked you as you joined them, sitting down close to the baby goats, just as Gaz had shown you the other day.

Their tiny bodies happily snoozing away in the hay, small tails wagging.

… you supposed this was a nice place on the farm as well.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You curled a little closer around Price’s feet that night, listening to the distant barks now and again. It was a riddle to you how the other hybrids were able to stay up so late. You knew they slept in schedules and you had seen them nap several times during the day. Still.

Perhaps it was your fear of the unknown in the dark that you didn’t like. You assumed the pack had seen worse than these dark fields; they never spoke about it, at least not while you were near, but you weren’t stupid. Sure, you had been sheltered a bit since everything had been focused on being a lapdog and you weren’t that great of a reader, but you had seen television. Listened to the radio. And, you had seen their scars, heard a bit from John and Nik - you knew Soap had lost most of his hearing because of explosive, you had seen the bullet scars and their implicit history on their skin. You didn’t want to know about how Ghost got the scars around his mouth or how it looked like one of Gaz’s legs had been stuck in a bear trap like contraption at some point.

Still, despite knowing that they could take care of themselves and was dangerous on their own, you were horrified when you woke a few days later, early in the morning - to the distant sound of barking and snarling, to howls that sounded more wolf than hybrid - to the sounds of the different farm animals getting antsy.

You had woken Price then, worried about them even if you didn’t say it directly — Nik woke the moment your owner got out of bed, your whines making him groan.

Uttering the word ‘wolves’ had awoken them both fully in a matter of seconds.

You could still hear scuffle in the distance, angry barks and sounds that confused you and you didn’t want Price to go outside alone. Even as Nik got up and Price got his shot gun, you were worried.

Was he going outside? What if the boys were hurt and they couldn’t keep John safe?

It had gone quiet.

Despite your lack of knowledge about anything and your fear overwhelming you in the early morning hours, you still followed, quickly tugging on shoes and a jacket.

The lights outside of the gravel driveway lit up the place as John and Nik went out first, the motion sensors activated. You barely needed to take more than a few steps outside to see why. They walked with calm steps.

There was a heavy sound as the body slammed onto the ground, completely still. Then another. The wolves laid on the gravel, no sound escaping their maws that seemed giant to you - blood seeping into the fur.

Blood was smeared across the faces of the three hybrids, making them look like brutal deities in your mind. Stepping out of a nightmare, victorious over the monsters. You couldn’t help your tail wagging a little with pride - or how your pussy reacted to the sight of three strong hybrids as well.

Tongues licked off blood from fangs and lips. Eyes rested on you - then their owners - then back on you.

They had saved the goats and sheep from being wolf dinner - both Nik and Price praising them, ruffling their hair and patting them. The shotgun was lowered and after a quick check it was confirmed that they wouldn’t be needing them. Both animals were dead.

There was pride from them, but also from Nik and John, who tried getting them inside, promising food. But the hybrids refused, wanting to stay out instead until later. To make sure no other wolves came by.

Soap sneaked from the two of them to you, his tail wagging proudly, chested puffed up a little.

“Could nae let ‘em get close tae yer goats, princess,” he rumbled darkly, and you didn’t move as he got close to you - almost touching you, sniffing your neck. Another please rumble leaving you.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, your own tail wagging a little, for once not minding the sniffing, despite the quite disgusting blood on him. Unsure of how to describe that you were relieved that nothing happened to them either… that wasn’t anything you would admit to anyways.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Ex-fucking-cuse you?” You all but snarled, hands instantly going onto the table, body ready to jump across the table and attack the man who had just offered the worst fucking idea ever. Hadn’t it been for John’s quick hand on your collar and Laswell’s hand gently pressing against your chest to get you to sit your ass back down, you would be fully attacking Nikolai now.

Nikolai, who looked quite amused - and rather pleased with himself over your reaction.

“Settle down, princess,” there was a stern tone in Price’s voice but you still tipped your long ears a little downwards, baring your filed down teeth at your owner’s boyfriend.

“That’s not your decision!” You were almost screaming, growling so loudly you almost surprised yourself.

“Sit down, milaya,” Nikolai said, amusement barely hidden in his tone and you regretted not biting the man’s finger off that first day.

“You don’t decide that over me!” You screamed this time, your collar tugged further backwards and it wasn’t until a sharp slap from John landed on your cheek, that you looked away from him.

“Sit down, princess.” His voice was harder now and you finally followed John’s order, sitting back down on your chair. While Laswell’s hand retreated, Price’s grip remained on your collar. The woman didn’t particularly look too pleased neither how this was going; you had a strong suspicion that she had seen this coming or knew of it - and that it annoyed her to have her meal disturbed by it.

She had teased you about it so many weeks ago, had she not?

“He can’t decide that,” you whined, looking over at John, wanting him to agree with you, to not let Nikolai control your body like that.

“No, he can’t decide that -,” John’s voice was almost sweet and you could feel your heart almost stop its intense pounding in your chest, only for it to pick up again as he continued, “but neither can you, technically.”

You whimpered, trying to make yourself a little smaller somehow, despite your size, “- sir-“

“I’m your owner, my pretty pup,” he reminded you, letting go of the collar, the warm hand instead softly patting the cheek he had just slapped mere moments ago, “so I can make that decision. If I want your implant taken out, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You let out a displeased whine, almost ready to cry.

“Then I’ll go into he-heat,” you whispered pathetically, the few memories you had of those not good ones, hazy and feverish moments flashing before your eyes, almost childishly adding “I don’t wanna.”

“Yes, you will,” Price agreed softly, caressing your cheek gently, while he stared into your eyes with a soft look, as he had just confirmed a fear of yours. It was like no one but the two of you existed for a few moments - as if everything and everyone else had disappeared into smoke, leaving you and your owner as the last breathing beings of the universe, “but you might get a litter with the boys - wouldn’t that be nice, princess?”

“No.”

Nikolai let out a huff. You knew both Kate and John were watching you, looking for any signs of your chubby ass jumping over the table in order to strangle Nik. Instead you just let out a growl. You received a nudge with the elbow fit on Kate. You were probably real close to losing table rights and being forced to eat on the ground but you didn’t care.

“Not now, of course,” Nikolai tried, “summer first.”

“Why not spring?” Price suggested and Nik shook his head, while you wanted to suggest that they could go fuck themselves with both ideas.

The worst thing was that you maybe, just maybe didn’t mind getting a litter. You would never admit to it, especially not while Nik was in the room, but your instincts had been screaming every second you had spent with the goats. But it was out of your control, so you refused out of pure spite.

“- can become better friends,” you heard Kate say as you zoned back into the conversations, almost wanting to snap at Kate now. She had brought up litters the very first time that they had met the mutts.

“No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do is probably knock you up.” The memory of her words echoed in your mind for a while.

“-spring, then pups will be born in late winter,” Nik pointed out, as they sat there and talked about you and your apparent upcoming litter, “nyet, summer - then puppies will come spring. Good for their lungs.”

“We don’t know if it will even take quickly,” Kate pointed out and you felt her hand gently petting you, scratching behind one of your dog ears, as if to comfort you which wasn’t too often she did so, “she has had implants for quite a while, after all.”

You wanted to cry and scream and beg to be the one to decide when at the very least. Or if. The idea of going into heat scared you shitless - with three beasts to help you through it? No thanks.

The food on your plate with the cute paw patterns along the rim suddenly didn’t look so enticing, despite there being everything you would usually love on it. Even a couple of strawberries.

You barely managed to eat those, ignoring their talks for the rest of the dinner.

You didn’t eat much more, disappearing the moment you could, rushing out the door, ignoring the sharp stones biting into your bare feet or your lack of jacket. Not stopping or listening as Price and Nikolai called out your name.

Pretending you didn’t want to scream and cry, throwing a tantrum on the floor inside- but you didn’t, for once. Though tears swelled in your eyes.

They didn’t go after you, probably because they suspected that you weren’t going to run off - and you weren’t, which wasn’t hard to guess, given how you ran directly towards the stable.

It wasn’t that you liked the stables. No. It was tolerable… maybe a little nice. Out of the whole farm, it was tolerable.

You didn’t enter the booth you had been in before however, not wanting to scare the animals off by being upset. They were all laying inside after a nice day spent out in the sun, doing whatever goats did during the day - now relaxing as the dark overtook the sun’s place. You kept your sniffling to a minimum, stubbornly drying away any of the tears.

“ ‘you upset?”

The deep voice caught you off guard, making you jump - several of the goats looking towards the voice. A few of them bleating.

Ghost stood a little further down the hallway of the stables, the great Pyrenees hybrid looking at you - you couldn’t quite decipher what he was thinking, if he found it amusing or was pitying you. Scarred white ears tipping towards you.

You huffed, crossing your arms, trying your best to look tough, raising your tail a little as you let out a stubborn “no,” trying to ignore how your voice shook a little.

“Uh-huh,” Ghost answered, clearly not convinced one bit and you considered bolting back inside, “so it wasn’t you screamin’ bloody murder in th’ hous’ a moment ago?”

Your tail fell a little and you looked away, ignoring the way Ghost sighed - as if upset with the fact you wouldn’t just admit what was wrong, what had happened. As if the two of you had a normal kind of relationship or… whatever this was, that your owner was trying to force upon you.

“Come,” he grunted out then - and you looked back at him; he had already turned around, walking down the stone floor. You dared to cast another glance at the goats, who were all staring at you, as if to say ‘get going’. So you followed, a little tense, still drying off a couple of tears with the back of your hands.

Ghost had stopped in front of a couple of hay bales, not too far from one of the bigger windows. The big hybrid sat down with a grunt, yawning for a moment; his big canines exposed, reminding you of how they felt when they sank into your skin, pierced it and entered your muscle. There was nothing threatening about him right now however - in fact he patted the spot next to him on the bale. You stood a couple of steps from it, unsure whether to do as he silently asked you to.

There was no growling. No hard stares from him, in fact, he was looking out through the window, keeping tabs of things, even when inside. You finally sat down with a sniffle.

For a couple of seconds, there was only the sound of you sniffling and the faint sounds of the animals in their booths. Baby goats with their light voices. Shuffling in the hay. A horse moving in its booth, the faint sound of eating.

“What happened, then?” he asked, voice a little softer than what he usually spoke like. You dared to look up at him, his body giant even when sitting down - as if he could feel your glance, he looked down at you, meeting your gaze. Suddenly your nails were much more interesting to look at.

“Why do you care?” you asked almost accusatory, voice not that loud, vary about his interest in you. You earned a huff in response.

“You sounded quite upset,” he said a few moments later, “we got worried.”

Your bare, slightly cold toes curled. We got worried. They cared… or at the very least, they were curious. You weren’t sure if you even wanted them to be either. Even though attention was attention, no matter the kind, you supposed.

“You don’t care,” you accused in a voice that barely sounded rude, barely sounded like you meant it. The other man let out a hum like the asshole he was and it annoyed you; it wasn’t the reaction you had expected, wasn’t a mean laughter or a tug on the tail.

Instead you were met with his half lidded eyes watching you, as he quietly waited. He didn’t move to hurt you. Finally you caved.

“They wann’ take out my implant,” you finally murmured, looking down at your feet now. You would need a bath when you got inside. There was sawdust and tiny pieces of hay on them, dirt from the outside. You settled a little more on the hay bale, trying to get comfortable as you were uncomfortable with being honest with Ghost.

“Implant?” Ghost repeated and you didn’t even care whether it was a question or not, you merely nodded. The silence filled up the air for a few moments and you dried another of the stupid, stubborn tears of your cheek.

“‘That will mean you go into heat, yeah?” he finally asked and you wanted to curl upon yourself at the mere mention. Maybe bury yourself in the hay. Once more, you nodded, your tongue feeling as if it was swelling in your mouth.

“I don’t want to,” you whispered, “Nikolai just said it… so casually.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“They didn’t ask me,” you sniffled, “I don’t like heats.”

“When was the last time ye’ even had one?”

“... years ago,” you admitted to the bigger hybrid, “I didn’t like it.”

“Hm. Sounds like ye’ didn’t have a good partner then,” hadn’t you been too upset you would have rolled your eyes at him - then again, it wasn’t like he sounded demeaning. More just… pitiful. You didn’t want pity from him, you wanted it from your owner.

“Was it with a hybrid?”

The question caught you off guard - you looked up at him again and Ghost was looking down at you, towards the left; he somehow seemed non judgemental, even though you had expected him to be mean about it.

“T-the first time, yeah.”

“The others not?”

You shook your head and looked away again. It wasn’t like you wanted to talk to him about this whole thing, about your body, about heat. Yet, here you fucking were.

“It’s easier when it’s with hybrids. The pheromones help.” His explanation was gentle and your mind almost found the gentleness confusing. You were too used to his sarcastic comments, to his meanness, to his thirst for your body, whether you wanted to or not.

“Doesn’t matter,” you murmured, “don’t want a litter anyways.”

“They talkin’ about puppies too?”

He sounded genuinely surprised - and then a familiar spike hit the air. The scent of lust sparked, escaping the bigger hybrid. You didn’t dare to look at him. Neither of you moved.

“I just want to decide for myself.”

Ghost huffed. You didn’t look at him, ignoring the lust still crawling through the air.

“you’re a hybrid,” it was a reminder, a statement you knew was true even as the following words hurt, “you know you don’t have that choice.”

“I know,” you snapped, ears tipping backwards a little, finally looking up at him again, baring your teeth a little at the hybrid, “I just want some sort of control.”

He stared down at you. The pupils of his eyes had expanded and in the slightly dark stable, his eyes almost seemed black.

“I haven’t heard ya’ say that you don’t want our puppies though,” he said instead, darkness seeping into his voice even if it wasn’t that loud, a hunger you had heard before.

“I don’t want to,” you whispered in return, lying, trying your best to keep the anger in your voice.

“No?” he asked again, disbelief in his voice, a teasing tone as he added, “don’t want us to fill you up, huh? Fill you with puppies?”

The idea made your entire body feel hot and you wanted to hide from the shame that followed the lust. The idea of them actually breeding you, leaving your belly swollen a couple of months later.

“Hehe.”

You ignored his dark chuckle, knowing your own lust got exposed from your scent - in fact, you froze as Ghost leant down a little, ignoring your bared teeth and took a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He was nasty, you reminded yourself, even as you felt your pussy wetten, a nasty hound. You should bite him, attack him. Instead you didn’t move, his scarred nose touching your skin as he pushed a little closer, a deep groan leaving him.

Finally he straightened his back, pulling away. As you felt a whine escape you, he looked rather pleased with himself.

“Take control of what little things you can then, princess,” he finally crooned, “we will help you.”

For a moment you thought he was going to fuck you right there. Press your face into the bale as you got fucked from behind, howls muted by it as he filled your cunt with his cock. Yet he didn’t do that; despite not even hiding how he and his pack wanted to spend your heat with you, the implication of them knocking you up - well… you had expected him to fuck you. A part of you, that sinful, bad part that you sometimes hated, was almost disappointed.

“Let’s get you inside’,” he said instead of touching you as expected, “dont wan’ you to get sick.”

He abandoned you by the door, telling you to get some more clothes on so you wouldn’t be sick. You just nodded, his words still in your mind.

“Take control of what little things you can then, princess, we will help you.”

But what could you control? It sounded like they had already planned out your entire pregnancy, down to how to best care for the pups and socialise them - figure out whether they would work best as lapdogs or working dogs.

You weren’t sure why it caught you so off guard; it really shouldn’t have. Seeing them both naked wasn’t a new sight to you, you had had sex with both of them. Yet seeing them like this, together, their chest hairs touching as they grinded against each other, Nikolai’s cock deep inside John.

The sight made you whimper. The scent of sex was heavy in the air and it made your own pussy wet. You took a step closer towards them, both men looking over at you, though their movements didn’t stop.

The very least they could do after upsetting you, would be to fuck you silly. Nik hands tightened on John’s skin, love clear in his eyes as he looked back at John, smiling.

You took another step forward, carefully moving to pull off your shirt.

However, Nik stopped John from riding him, your owner letting out a displeased sound, bare toes curling as Nik’s cock rested fully inside him.

The Russian tugged at you, making you stop where you were, letting go of your shirt.

They didn’t want you to join.

“Misbehaved earlier, milaya,” Nikolai pointed out, his big hands resting on John’s hips, who huffed, clearly not pleased with the pausing.

“Go to your room, princess,” John urged, his gaze softer, skin sweaty, face red.

“Please.” You weren’t beneath begging, despite your anger at them.

“Do you want time in the crate?” That made you bolt, ignoring their giggles that were soon replaced with moans again.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You stole one of their jackets in the hallway since it was the closest, putting on a pair of boots, before you left the farmhouse once more.

This time you didn’t go towards the stables.

You felt embarrassed, but you were upset, almost desperate. One dog, seeking out another. The same hounds you had promised never to like.

But you were fucked up, you knew that somewhere deep inside, but your instincts were begging for some comfort. Since your owners weren’t willing to give it to you, you went to the next best. The ones you had declared your hatred towards all this time, who had hurt your repeatedly yet still made you smile as well.

You hadn’t been in their little house ever since last time; it looked almost the same, safe some more clothes and their scent more present. There were a few photos on the walls.

None of them were there. You whined, entering it anyways, toeing off the boots, carefully going into the dimly lit place. It was almost like a little home.

You could remember when they had tumbled out from their respective carriers, drugged and confused. You sniffed around a little, before you ended up settling in the hay area. It seemed to be the lesser used sleeping place and you didn’t want to intrude in their nest, despite your hatred for them.

They probably would have done that to you, you realized, but you wanted sex; not a fight. You sniffled as you curled up in the hay, feeling the vague prickling from the straws.

You felt lost. Angry, upset. Worse, horny. If they didn’t want to fuck you, you had other places to go. Things had changed, whether you wanted them to or not and you had no control there either. Despite not getting along with Nikolai most of the time, he and John seemed… happy together.

As you laid in the shed, you listened to the world outside. You could hear an owl, or at least, you were pretty sure it was an owl. That was what they sounded like in television shows. Then there was the wind. It made some nearby trees sway, some fields too.

You sniffled a little more.

You had changed too, you knew that. With or without your consent - so had the other hybrids, it seemed. Price had confirmed he still loved you however and despite your current anger and betrayal you felt towards him, you knew your owner wouldn’t truly abandon you. Nik wouldn’t want that either.

The nearby footsteps roused you from your half sleeping thoughts and a moment passed by, before the door was opened - you wondered for a moment, if it was John or Nikolai coming to pull you back inside for not following their commands.

Instead it was Ghost.

Despite seeing him just a mere moment ago, you had already forgotten how big and intimidating he was; it surely didn’t help that you were laying down or he was barely lit from the light above you.

“Princess,” he greeted, tipping his head to the side, clear confusion over seeing you here. You whined, doing your best to prove that you were not here to fight, carefully wagging your tail as you curled to the side a little, showing your stomach.

He huffed, looking over his shoulder again, but despite his lack of words, he didn’t seem to be against you being in there, in fact you could see his tail wag. The scent from him became a little thicker.

He let out a sharp bark.

You heard their movements a moment later and as Ghost entered, Soap and Gaz followed — clearly much more surprised to see you there, a couple of excited barks leaving them. A sharp growl from Ghost made them quiet down then and you curled yourself to the side again.

Fearing for a moment that he would turn you away as well. While Gaz and Sop began to pull off their outdoors clothes, Ghost walked to the edge of the hay filled area, squatting down, as you carefully sat up.

You must have looked like a little mess, eyelids puffy, eyes red, hay in your hair. Pathetic thing, your mind supplied, why would they want you?

“Why ar’ you here, princess?” Ghost asked and you felt your muscles tense.

“I can leav—“

“He dinnae say that,” Soap was quick to interject, letting you and Ghost have some space. He smiled at you - so did Gaz. You dared to look back at Ghost… he looked worried, a small smile.

“I - they didn’t want to fuck me,” you admitted with a whisper, “I want somebody to want me.”

Simon let out a huff and you tried making yourself seem smaller. Telling them that they were second choice had perhaps not been the best decision.

“Do you actually want us?” Kyle asked, his arms now crossed, a more sceptical look on his face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, because that was the truth; their mere eyes on you made your pussy clench around nothing, “want you. Nice. Show me, I…”

You didn’t know how to describe it. Instead you dared to crawl through the little hay, all close to Ghost now. Stopping, looking into his eyes that was staring right back at you; your faces were so close they would almost touch with the wrong movement.

“Princess,” there was hunger in his voice that made you lick your lips.

“I am taking control,” you whispered, “making my own decision.”

A smug smile appeared on his scarred face and then the hybrid leant forwards nuzzling his nose against yours for a short moment.

“Let’s get you to the nest,” he rumbled, an almost underlying hum in his voice, the scent of lust almost exploding from everyone in the little shed “we’re not fucking you in the hay.”

They were welcoming you to their nest. Not forcing you and you whined with happiness, letting out a yelp as Simon then lifted you quickly with a little grunt. You landed on their mattresses and blankets a second later, a wagging Soap next to you almost instantly, licking your cheek.

“Dinnae worry, hen - I’ll take ye’ where ever ye’ want.”

Gaz appeared on your other side, arms curling around you and nuzzling into your chest.

“Stay with us tonight,” he asked softly, “please.”

How could you say no to a polite offer like that? You nodded, his tail wagging as well, thumping rhythmically against a pillow.

A moment later an energy bar hit your stomach and then the others as well.

“Eat first,” Ghost commanded, “we will need the energy.”

Since you hadn’t eaten much earlier, you were only happy to, hungrily watching together with Soap and Gaz as Ghost pulled off his shirt.

Gaz turned and nuzzled against you after eating, pressing his face against one of your tits.

“I’m sorry they didn’t ask you ‘bout the litter beforehand,” he said, meaning that Ghost had told them. The big man shrugged as you shot him a look, as he focused on eating his own energy bar.

You looked up at the ceiling, licking your lips for a short moment. Your pussy was dripping wet by now, knowing it was a matter of time before the other hybrids would fuck you dumb all night. As a short of fuck you to John and Price, but also because you genuinely wanted it for once.

An idea filled your head, only shortly distracted as Soap grinded against you, his hard on most likely leaking in his own underwear.

“I can smell ye’ kitty,” he crooned darkly and you had almost forgotten how he had called your pussy that, “I’m gonna make ‘er purr, pretty lass.”

You let out a needy whimper, closing your eyes for a moment. Thinking. It was stupid, probably a dangerous idea. Yet it slipped from your lips as you sat up and looked directly at Ghost.

“Rip out my implant.”

The little house went quiet immediately.

“Wat?” It was Soap who spoke the first, sitting up and looking at you, confusion taking over his horniness.

“No,” Gaz said, uncertainty in his voice over your idea, “didn't they want to wait?”

You almost wanted to growl at him.

“If I’m having pups, I want them on my terms,” you huffed, sending Gaz a sharp look, his ears tipping down in submission for once and you looked back at Ghost, who was undoubtedly their leader.

“Knock me up.”

“It’s just yet anger, innit?” He pointed out, mean but with a smile on his face that looked almost hungry , “sure you want our pups, darlin’? We’re not lapdogs.”

“Want somebody who can protect me,” you pointed out, “protect me ‘nd my pups. Not a lapdog.”

There were pleased growls from all of them. Both Soap and Gaz began to touch your shamelessly, pulling at your clothes to get them off and Ghost got down on all four, crawling towards you, making you lay down again, helping them get your shirt off. Bared and without any agression, they all shared a look.

“This isn’t a one time thing,” Gaz earned, “if we do this you’re ours. Not just sometimes, all the time.”

You whimpered at his words, nodding as you felt slick wetting your panties even more. Soap growled into your neck, taking deep breaths.

“No takin’ the pups from us,” he warned, “no matter who of us succeeds.”

“I won’t,” you promised quickly, moving your head to tip it up to kiss him and agreeing against his lips, “want my pups to grow up with their daddies.”

They all growled in delight, more hands on you and you helped getting the last things off, tugging at their clothes as well, making them undress so you weren’t restricted by clothes.

Daddies - they were going to knock you up; breed you, like a dark part of your mind wanted, breed you for days, not letting you leave without being pregnant. Fucking you day and night, making sure your cunt was stuffed with their cum.

Ghost were grinning darkly down at you, hunger in his eyes, cock hard between his legs, dripping already - your hand resting against Gaz’ neck and Soap’s hair.

“Now Princess,” Ghost crooned darkly, his fangs almost shining in the dim light of the shed, all of your tails wagging, the heavy scent of lust, with your slick and their precum in the air, “in which arm is that implant of yours?”