#maybe in the future for an ao3 post!

[racingliners]

Long distance love confession for gewis? If you vibe with them 🫶🏻 - Jay

Hello!!! Sorry for taking so long with this, I had to let it marinate in my brain for a while until I landed on something that felt right. It's very rough an unedited but I hope you still enjoy it! 💚

love confessions writing prompts

George/Lewis, 1.8k, no warning apply

London in December was actually quite beautiful to George, packed streets of people doing their Christmas shopping aside. The strings of lights and sparkling Christmas trees made being out in the cold air worthwhile as George also went from shop to shop getting the last gifts he needed before making the trip down to Norfolk to spend the festive season with his family.

George let out a long sigh when he finally returned to his flat in Finchley. As convenient as it was to be able to take the tube home, the Northern line train was still on the unpleasant side of warm thanks to it being busier than a usual Tuesday. The one small privilege was that he’d been able to make the journey home without being recognised – the visual identity of F1’s newest race winner hadn’t made it into the consciousness of the general British public just yet.

He'd managed to set his various bags down next to the sofa and had turned to take the seven steps over to the kitchen to make himself a much needed cuppa when his phone rang from his pocket. George pulled it out quickly, assuming it was Aleix calling for his weekly Winter Break catch up or Cara once again asking George if he’d remembered to buy aftershave for their Dad.

But the caller ID just read ‘Lewis’ and George almost froze into place, his only movement blinking slowly at the rectangular screen in front of him.

2022 had been a strange year for George for a plethora of reasons. The new regulation cycle being one, and the W13 and all its various problem’s another. But the development of George and Lewis’ professional relationship had been the strangest of all, in that they both worked rather well together.

Truth be told George wouldn’t have blamed Lewis for not wanting to give George much past the basic professional curtesy with the past twelve months he’d gone through. And yet he was more than just welcome and respectful, he was kind to the point where George could tell from Lewis’ eyes that he meant it whenever he asked how George was, and they’d started to bounce off each other in the debriefs with the engineers over the last handful of races of the season.

And then there was the dinners. How before the first race of the year Lewis had suggested they get a table at a restaurant in Bahrain and take the time to get to know each other away from the buzz of the paddock or the factory. It then turned to a late lunch in Melbourne, an evening supper in Montreal, and it was at the 3am dinner in Singapore that George had finally realised that he’d been enjoying the time spent with Lewis far more than what a teammate should do.

Never meet your heroes, they say. George wished there was guidance for what to do when you’d fallen in love with them and they were now calling you at half past four in the afternoon on a random Tuesday in December.

Somehow George managed to move his thumb over to the green answer button before he so rudely sent Lewis to his voicemail.

“Lewis, hi!” George’s voice came out two octaves higher then normal, he almost didn’t recognise himself. “H-how’s Colorado?”

“Ack it’s fricking freezing! It’s like minus nine right now or something. I was gonna go out snowboarding but all the slopes are closed because it’s so foggy.” Lewis sounded less frustrated and more perplexed at the scene he was likely staring at out of the windows of his lodge near Aspen. He’d showed George a couple of pictures back in Abu Dhabi and it looked like one of the most perfect places on the planet.

“Ah, I don’t think it’s gotten above two degrees today.” The fact that British people were so good at talking about the weather no matter what a person’s personal circumstance was the sole reason why George was able to even hold a conversation. “Wait, what time is it for you over there?” His brain was sadly still too scrambled from the sheer disbelief of Lewis calling him for George to both remember what the time difference between London and Colorado was and do the maths.

“It’s just gone 9.30, I’m about to have breakfast.” His beloved Winter break pancakes no doubt. “I just wanted to call because… well I felt like I’d just brushed you off when you said goodbye at the factory yesterday and I just wanted to clear the air.”

“Oh,” George scrambled back through his memories from the past 24 hours and managed to pull that moment to the surface – when Lewis had almost ran out the factory doors at Brackley just before lunchtime and George had to shout for Lewis to hear his wishes for Lewis to have a good Christmas. “I just assumed you were in a rush to catch your flight, I wasn’t offended.”

Lewis let out a long sigh from the other end of the line that George almost felt it drift across the Atlantic ocean.

“Thank god, I couldn’t stop thinking about it on the flight over and I just… well. Given everything we’ve gone through this year I didn’t want to carry any hard feelings over to next year.”

“It’s the last thing I would get offended over, believe me.” George finally felt his shoulders relax and he even rolled his eyes. Yes, there were ways in which he and Lewis were very different, but there were just as many ways in which they were the same. “If you’d said fuck off to my face then that would have been a different story.”

Lewis immediately burst out laughing, George could perfectly picture his eyes crinkling shut and his shoulders shaking up and down while he pressed his free hand against his chest. George had to quickly bite down on his lip to get the image out of his head as he forced himself to lean against the counter.

“How’s your day been anyway mate?” Lewis asked, the final few notes of laughter drifting out of his voice as he spoke. George recounted his afternoon braving London’s shopping district as briefly as possible since Lewis definitely had more important things to be tending to, despite the fact that over the past few days George was starting to want nothing else than endless Tuesdays where he and Lewis talked about nothing over steaming cups of tea while Roscoe sat snoring at Lewis’ feet.

George quickly shook his head, he couldn’t allow himself to have that kind of image in his head. World champion megastars like Lewis didn’t fall in love with maiden Grand Prix winners like George.

“Well, congrats on surviving the tube during December, that’s a badge of honour in itself.” Lewis said not quite non-chalantly with a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Thank you! I’ll put it next to my Brazil trophy.” George grinned.

“Has it arrived yet?” Lewis was quick to ask.

“Yeah last week, it’s still in its box I haven’t figured out where to put it yet.” George huffed. Specifically the box was nestled next to his bedside table because putting it in the wardrobe out of the way felt like sacrilege despite the fact his flat didn’t have an office to safely store it in. “But that’s for future me to worry about I suppose.”

Lewis just hummed, not sounding like he was planning on hanging up any time soon. It was nice, but odd. Their phone calls had never really lasted this long before.

“I um…” George started, his eyes fixed on his shoes, but he couldn’t think of anything. “It’s good to hear from you, I’m glad you and Roscoe made it to the lodge safely.”

“You should have seen it last night when I got here, it’s so beautiful. I wish I’d had that huge navy scarf of yours for when I got off the plane though. It was so cold.”

George’s heart briefly lurched at the thought of Lewis remembering about George’s Winter scarf that he’d gotten for his last birthday. As Lewis had correctly remembered it was navy blue and made from thick cashmere – George’s parents had splurged on it as a ‘Happy first season at Mercedes gift’. He’d even worn it when he’d been out shopping since today was fairly cold by London standards.

“Well now I know what to get you for Secret Santa next year.” George somehow managed to quip. All half of his brain could think about was how good Lewis would look in navy cashmere.

“Yeah but now I know and you’ll also have to rig it so you get me, Shov will be so pissed off with you.”

“Even though you’d be getting a new scarf out of it?”

For the first time Lewis paused, and George wondered if he’d put his foot in it so badly that Lewis had hung up without a word.

“Lewis?” He asked quietly, only loud enough for the mug rack on his left to hear.

“George I-” Lewis started, then just as quickly stopped. George hadn’t completely ruined a perfectly normal conversation then. “I actually called because I needed to talk to you about something and… I did have time to talk about it with you at the factory but it wouldn’t have been the right place.”

“Oh.” George couldn’t help himself from saying as he felt half the air get knocked out his lungs.

“Excluding Brazil, this season’s been shit for so many reasons. But, despite that, I’ve still really enjoyed all the dinners we had this year. It’s been great getting to know you properly.”

“Yeah mate, me too.” George’s cheeks suddenly felt so warm that they must have been as red as a strawberry. “I’m glad that we were both able to make the time for them.”

“You’re a…” Lewis paused to take a breath. “Really great guy George. I just woke up this morning and realised why I was so worried about offending you because I think I like you a lot more than I should like a teammate and you’re in London and I’m in Colorado and-”

“I think I love you too Lewis.” George blurted out, lifting about five F1 cars worth of weight off his shoulders in the process. “You have no idea how much I want to be looking at snow and fog right now.”

A small moment of silence followed, which was eventually broken by George and Lewis slowly breaking out into relieved laughter.

“We’re going to have to have another dinner to talk about this you know.” George sighed, already beaming at the prospect.

“Well…” Lewis’ voice briefly trailed off, George could picture the small crease in his brow. “Your place or mine?”

[arkos404]

tired of gatekeeping, heres the rest of the dibper stuff i drew

[hermitw]

Complaint that the best thing I've ever written might be this fic where Sukuna's milk-dripping tiddies save us from the shibuya incident

[dansconcepts]

Summary:

Komaeda falls asleep on Hajime's shoulder after getting injured trying to save him. He reaches out a hand...

...To shove him off when Mikan walks in.

[governmentmandatedryujinstan420]

I regret to inform everyone we're back in the white space. Expect the fire alarm to go off periodically in typical fashion of whenever it detects a steaming pile of garbage on the way. Like me! [i'll give a cookie to whoever recognizes where the sfx is from!!]

[cepheusgalaxy]

Guess who has an AO3 account now 😌

[caterpillarinacave]

I have had an idea

[funkylittlebidiot]

Anyone remember About Him? yeah i'm re-editing lmao

[centipedve]

man wdk why maybe we're just pretentious and cranky right now but whenever people respond to common writing advice with "you can write whatever you want" it's like. yeah obviously. but the people who seek out writing advice and should care about it tend to be the people who need it.

not as in They're Bad but as in a large portion of people who write aspire to be published and to be published your work needs to be marketable and to be marketable you need to follow the rules, save if you deeply understand them and can break them in a manner which retains readability. we mean there's also self publishing but if you get any readers at all your reviews will suffer and as a result your sales will suffer.

there are some publications which take more experimental work but once again you need to understand the rules to break them. there's a big difference between "knowingly breaks rule for a specific purpose" and "makes a bunch of mistakes that will annoy readers at best" and it can be very easy to tell. sort of like the art style vs mistake thing. you can be aware when something is "wrong" but implement it in a way that makes sense and is cohesive with the rest of your work, and you can also just draw the thing wrong. it doesn't matter if you don't plan to do shit with your art so make as many fuck ups as you want but if you aspire to get a job with it then sorry man you're out of luck.

maybe we're just unsympathetic too wdk. cuz apparently people need reminders they can suck shit. you can suck shit 👍 does not change anything about writing advice though or make it less valid in the grand scheme of things.

[izzy-b-hands]

yoooo as of posting my fill for AU-gust Day Two ‘fiber arts’ I’m at 49 fics written for OFMD! (not counting the extra lil ones I published on here that haven’t been posted to AO3 yet, and will, eventually just. is a slog trying to find them in the blog backlog, but EVENTUALLY)

Anyway, that means I’m v excited to see if I either Day Three will be my fiftieth fic!!! for OFMD or if I’ll wind up finishing an unrelated draft first (I have one I’m plugging away at that I am only giving the title and main ship of for the sake of Fun and Mystery: ‘Single Serve Blueberry Brownie’ and rizzy) and THAT might be No. 50!!

That aside, here be the link for Day Two! Wee John POV of the messiest wedding planning in existence (for that moment at least, Mary/Doug) going down at his and Frenchie’s wedding salon/shop after he’s ALREADY put out one bride’s fire for the day. Stede is also there, having a bad time until suddenly it isn’t anymore (Ed/Stede.) Overall ship is Frenchie/Wee John but nothing explicit or NSFW going on for anyone in this fic, aside from the NSFW levels of stress and less than kind behaviour towards each other that weddings can bring out in people lmao.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49062529

[burningcheese-merchant]

Hey so if everyone that follows me or otherwise sees this reblog can you PLEASE reblog it as well? Because this news needs to be delivered to everyone. I am freaking out so fucking bad right now you have no idea

AO3 has been scraped, once again.

As of the time of this post, AO3 has been scraped by yet another shady individual looking to make a quick buck off the backs of hardworking hobby writers. This Reddit post here has all the details and the most current information. In short, if your fic URL ends in a number between 1 and 63,200,000 (inclusive), AND is not archive locked, your fic has been scraped and added to this database.

I have been trying to hold off on archive locking my fics for as long as possible, and I've managed to get by unscathed up to now. Unfortunately, my luck has run out and I am archive locking all of my current and future stories. I'm sorry to my lovelies who read and comment without an account; I love you all. But I have to do what is best for me and my work. Thank you for your understanding.

[wordsofelie]

i think i’m gonna start posting my fics on Ao3 instead of tumblr

[theheartmold]

I was reading this post over on the Ao3 subreddit this evening and I think it brings up a lot of good points about how fandom, as a community, has been shifting in its treatment towards fanfic writers.

Fanfic is more popular than ever, which means there are more works "competing" for the readers' attention, who take on a passive approach that treats fanworks not as a means to talk to people with similar interests, but as content, as products. [...] Gift cultures thrive not on monetary exchanges, but on the expectation that the gifts freely given will be returned in an unspecified future through emotional and relational means. This used to set fandom apart, but it's slowly being absorbed into the mainstream way capitalism operates. Where does that leave us?

And it's demotivating to see the responses authors get when expressing their grievances with this state of affairs, or how they feel underappreciated. Being called entitled, told to write for themselves, or to promote their work as if writing and posting isn't enough. I write for myself, I post for the community. There are things I want to say about the source material and characters, and I do through storytelling. And I'm grateful about each of the comments I got, no matter how short. It's just that it doesn't feel like there's a community out there when no one talks back. Writers aren't just expected to write, but to do it for the "right reasons", and to also be as pleasant about it as possible, lest they'll be criticized by more people than the amount that's offering them support.

I've seen posts going around on tumblr that have approached this topic as well--that fanworks (particularly fanfic) should be created from the perspective of a perfect vessel that can pour, pour, pour out and never needs to be poured into. You should do it for the "right reasons" and not complain because "no one owes you interaction". But what is fandom if not interaction?

Writing fanfic is one of the most time-consuming labors of love that makes up a fandom. (That's not to say other fanworks aren't labors, time-consuming, or made with love. We're talking about fanfic). Your 300k+ enemies to lovers slowburn porn-with-plot fic that has reshaped the entire way you approach a specific pairing or media has been made with time, effort, for free, with the intention to be shared with you.

And in the state of current fandom, it has been made with the expectation to receive nothing back. Is that fair? Maybe. Silent readers exist and a kudos on Ao3 is at least an acknowledgment that some people read and enjoyed. But does it hurt to leave a comment? Even a heart emoji or an "I loved this, thank you for sharing!" is enough to at least start a dialogue, a conversation, form a connection.

That's not even to mention the isolation of fandom interactions to private Discords; time after time I've heard from fanfic authors who found out that there have been discord servers or twitter groupchats where their fanfic has been discussed, loved, and lauded at length--but never once was the author told this! Ao3 has comments for a reason. Many authors link their tumblr profiles or emails in their bio for people to reach out to them.

It's just a sorry state to see it go.

[ehhs-ya-boi]

Hi guys, It's Ya Boi Ehh is back at it again, making a blog for their fics. Anyway, putting myself on blast from the start with this but I'm the one who made the long-ass airy/reader porn fic.

So if you like (or hate) my work, this is the place to heckle me about details. I am very eager to talk about it so I'll be doing that here, but if you have any specific questions or thoughts or anything feel free to send an ask.

/ / /

Quick things to note, the main things I write about currently:

hfjone

inanimate insanity

What I got cookin':

More of the two above

bfb

other osc fandoms

fnaf sb (daycare attendant)

ososan (but don't count on it-)

/ / /

Another thing, tag key here

#ehh blabs = normal post / not rb'd #ehh update = fic time updates #ehh ficthoughts = quick thoughts for oneshots, hcs, etc #ehh drabblebabble = very rough draft of a fic/fic outline - #stow adjacent = Anything related to Airy staycation Universe #hr's gonna have a field day = Anything referring to the C'mon PR! Universe #yesterday but tomorrow = Anything related to my 3gs wip and since all that is that, obviously scrolling through the tags would be spoilers for fics I haven't published yet, so if you care- scrollers beware.

[aria0fgold]

Got jokid in the brain again... For all that is Bad with Okumura's arc, it did give me ideas for another oneshot with Morgana and Kaito (their friendship is growing on me...). And I also have another idea too for Kaito and Akiren this time but that'll be in the back for now cuz the idea is basically a comfort fic where Akiren is finally out of that hellhole of an interrogation room and Kaito goes to visit him (ngl tho Kaito would've tried all that he can to get Akiren outta there as soon as the cops grabbed him but tbf, story wise, that'd just be pretty "tame.")

Like, Kaito saves him, end of story. I want! The hurt! (but god also like pls can akiren get treated alrdy hes been in that interrogation room for like a century) And I want the comfort after the hurt! The only thing that can stop Kaito from saving Akiren is if he's in Some hurt himself, like if he was in the middle of the heist when Akiren got caught in another part of Japan. Imagine that, in one part a Phantom Thief got caught, and in another part a Magician Thief was nearly caught (possibly cuz Kaito was tryna rush everything to get to Akiren in time but alas! that only got him in bigger trouble instead), that would've been the most memorable time for Japan in that world.

Unfortunately for em though, Kaito's skillset is most effective for the cops in reality so he can't get caught that easily. So yeah, anyway I can't write that idea out yet cuz I haven't reached the point in which AKIREN FINALLY GETS HIS TREATMENT.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy

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

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

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

Word count: 4,7k

Requested? No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The conversation was nice.

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

It started with fatigue.

Then fever.

Your eyes got blurred.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt your own underwear getting wet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dick sighed.

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

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

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

Tim hummed.

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

Damian’s warm breath huffed against your neck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Good omega, good omega…

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