#writing that sentence lifts my mood instantly

[japannkenn]

Me joyously writing the sentence “it was summertime” in my 2023 Luca fanfiction for the 852136875234th time (it’s September now)

[musings-of-a-rose]

First sentence prompt (use whichever character your heart desires)

“Don’t look at me, I thought we were going for tacos.”

Taco Tuesday

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 630+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: So @theewokingdead originally gave me this idea for Tommy, but it fits for Benny as well. And then I got this one sentence fic starter and instantly knew what to write!  

“You text Tommy to prepare for taco Tuesday. You later show up to his house with tacos, and when you walk in you find him naked and realize he thought taco Tuesday meant something else entirely.”

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

Dating Benny was always a blast. He has so much energy that he pours into everything he does, whether it’s his MMA fighting or going to the movies. He always gets super into whatever we’re doing and it just makes my life so much brighter. Don’t get me wrong, he has his moments where he’s not quite himself, his past consuming him. But he’s been working through it with the help of his best friends, myself, and a great therapist. 

It’s Tuesday and it’s been a long day. I walk inside my apartment, kicking off my shoes and leaving them on the mat near the door, heading into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I’m drinking, my phone pings, so I fish it out of my purse. Benny’s picture, one of us together at the State Fair with turkey legs the size of our heads, fills my screen and instantly my mood lifts. 

BENNYKINS: How’s my most beautiful girl?

Me: Most beautiful? Is there more than one of us?

BENNYKINS: yup. The one of you that goes in public and the one that does freaky shit in bed 🥵😘😈

Me: you bring out the freak in me what can I say?

…

BENNYKINS: good to know 😉 

Me: you free tonight? 

BENNYKINS: you asking me out?

Me: always. I was thinking it’s Tuesday so taco night at your place?

…

BENNYKINS: sounds perfect

Me: great! I’ll bring supplies

BENNYKINS: I bet you will 😉

I stop at the store on my way to Benny’s, gathering up the stuff we’d need to make tacos. Quickly making my way through the store, I’m grateful that there was no line at checkout. The quicker I can get to Benny the better. I really miss just being around him. 

I pull up to his house, parking behind his Jeep. A quick glance in the mirror to make sure I look ok, not that it matters to Benny in the slightest, and I grab the bag of food, heading up to the front door. I shift the bag and knock, hearing him yell  “Come in!” from somewhere in the house. I open the door and close it behind me, sliding the lock into place and kicking off my shoes before I head into the kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter. 

“Benny?”

“In here!”

I head down the hall, gently pushing open the door to his bedroom where I’d heard his voice coming from. My breath catches in my throat and I freeze - Benny was on his bed, completely naked, laying sideways with a giant grin on his face. 

“Hey pretty lady!”

“I..wh…what are you doing?” I can’t help the smile creeping across my face, but I still haven’t moved, unsure of what to do.

Benny cocks his eyebrow up. “It’s taco Tuesday.”

“Yeah. I have the food on the counter, but what?” I gesture towards him.

His smile falters just a little. “You said you were bringing your taco.”

A laugh erupts from the back of my throat, my head falling back with the weight of it as I realize what he’s thinking. “I said I’ll brings tacosss. Not just my taco!” 

“Oh.” He shakes his head, momentarily caught off guard before the smile returns and he jumps up, his whole uh body bouncing with the motion as he bounds over to me, cupping my face with both hands and placing a soft kiss to my lips.

“You brought your taco, and I have the sour cream.” How he says this with sincerity and a straight face, I’ll never know.

“How does that turn me on?”

He smiles, his eyes studying my face as he dusts his nose across mine. “Because you love me. Now come on - let me stuff your taco.”

General Taglist:

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[yelenasdiary]

Can I request a wandanatxreader or one of them with us.

Okay so I had a rough day, I’m one to suffer with body image and how I apply makeup and stuff. And I felt confident today until my family said something. We were going out for dinner and then my whole mood got changed and I was down the rest of the night that I couldn’t even enjoy the dinner.

Can you do something like this? I know it’s more of me ranting rn, but I just need some comfort.

Our Girl

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Summary: Wanda and Nat comfort you after a work dinner goes to shit.  

Fluff | Comfort | Angst | Body Image Issues | Basically Bullying | Mentions of Anxiety | Light Language Warning | 1.2K |

Translations: moya lyubov' (my love), dorogoy (sweetheart), lyubov' (love), 

AC: I wasn’t comfortable writing this as if family were being little pricks so I changed it to a work party setting, I hope that’s okay! Also, try not to think too much about what others say, I know it’s hard but I’m putting all my bets on the fact you looked amazing that night and your family were jealous xx I hope you’re doing okay & thank you for sending my first ever WandaNat request! 

*Please do not take credit for this photo I made*

"Are you sure I look okay, I don't know if this outfit looks good on me" you asked your girlfriends as your eyes fell to the floor. "Baby, you look amazing!" Natasha smiled softly as she walked over to you, lifting your head up with her thumb under your chin. "You're worrying too much pumpkin, you're breath-taking!" Wanda added as she walked up, stopping to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

"You guys are jus-"

"Don't even finish that sentence" Nat raised a brow at you, "You look beyond beautiful, anybody who doesn't see that can answer to myself or Wanda" she added before pulling you in for a hug, "stop stressing moya lyubov'" Natasha whispered. "We don't want to be late, let's go" Wanda opened the front door. If it wasn't for her, you and Natasha would be late for a lot of things. 

Natasha drove while Wanda sat in the back with you, she could see your anxiety was starting to take its toll, the worry and fear on your face crushed her as she placed a hand over yours, "Look at me honey" she spoke softly. You looked over to her and smiled softly, she always had this aura about her that made you forget the world around you. "It's just a silly work party, we'll go, have a couple of drinks, pick at the finger food and mingle with a few people. If at any point it's too much, we'll go" Wanda assures you as her thumb rubs over your knuckles. 

You'll never understand how Wanda was always able to clear your worries and fears but you were always so thankful for that power of hers. You took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, a wave of confidence came over you as you smiled back at your girlfriend, "thank you Wands" you said as you lent over and kissed her softly. 

----

For most of the afternoon, your work party went well. You, Natasha and Wanda stuck close to each other as you introduced them to your co-workers and of course, Natasha couldn't help herself and kept one hand draped around your waist. Your boss and Wanda seemed to have kicked things off well or maybe it was because they both loved to garden in their free time. It wasn't until the two women that for some reason disliked you came up to you and your girlfriends that things went downhill after that.

"Nat, Wanda, this is Sadie and Sarah" you smiled kindly as you introduced your partners. Of course they already knew who they were the moment you said their names and almost instantly Natasha's cold glare was glued to them until you gave her a begging "please be nice" look. 

"It's lovely to meet you both" Wanda reached her hand out with a smile. "You too" Sadie mumbled as she took Wanda's hand as though it was almost too much for her to do. "I see you went with an interesting outfit for this evening, Y/n" Sarah spoke as she looked you up and down causing Natasha to frown slightly. 

"Oh this? it was just something I had lying around" you replied quickly before Natasha could say a word. "Yeah, we can see that" Sadie turned her nose up which didn't help the burning anger building within Natasha. "Best you leave the sales talking to us, wouldn't want any buyers to get the wrong idea now, would we?" Sadie added. It didn't take much but the way both girls looked you up and down with disgust made your mood drop, you sighed and nodded at Sadie's words in defeat and not wanting to cause a scene. 

"Excuse me? Wrong idea? What is that supposed to mean?" Natasha asked, slightly pulling you closer to her.

"Nat, please, it's fine" you turned to her and whispered.

"No dorogoy, it's not fine" Wanda stepped in, "if you have something to say, say it or don't bother" She tilted her head slightly at the two women who worked with you.

"I just meant that we don't need whatever this is to make the company look bad, I mean, no disrespect but I don't think our boss would appreciate a sloppy look and hack job attempt to apply some make up to try and sell our product" Sadie explained before sipping her drink. 

"Hack job and sloppy? I'll tell you what's sloppy and hack job attempt!" Natasha took a step forward, "Nat, please!" you begged when her voice began to rise.

"Let's start with how that dress you're wearing is extremely too small I'm surprised you can even breathe let along have a drink while wearing that. I don't think almost whoring yourself out is something your boss would want to gain some sales, would they? Oh and let's not forget how much of a hack job you've done with those hair extensions and that necklace you're wearing, we can all tell they are cubic zirconia diamonds!" Natasha's strong eye contact made Sadie look small and you swore you could see a few tears building in her eyes. 

"Honey, that's enough" Wanda gently placed a hand over Natasha's lower back, "Basically what Natasha is saying is that if either of you ever, and I mean ever, speak to our girl like that again it won't just be a few things Natasha mentions. A little tip of advice, take it as you will but that foundation isn't your tone and next time you want to try blending it in with your neck" Wanda smiled softly at the two women, "now, if you don't mind I believe Y/n has some sales to make seeing as she's already made 7 tonight" she added. 

Both Sadie and Sarah looked over at you and smiled softly as if to excuse themselves before they walked away. Nat and Wanda turned to you and saw the hurt written all over your face. "lyubov', don't listen to them. They clearly just wanted to try and make themselves feel better" Wanda pulled you close, "you're so beautiful and you look so, so in creditably beautiful tonight. I'm so proud of you for coming tonight, I know it wasn't something you wanted to do but look at you" she smiled softly once more. 

"Wands is right baby, you're so strong. If we had of known just how badly those little shits were, we would've said something a lot sooner. You don't need to let them walk all over you, honestly baby" Natasha's hand found its way to your lower back, "you're our beautiful and strong girl! Fuck everybody else in this room, you're the real diamond here" she added with a wink as you smiled at her words. 

"I don't think I will ever be able to understand how I have the world's best women, I love you both so much, thank you" you replied as you looked between them both. 

"You don't have to thank us darling; we weren't going to just let them do that and walk away" Wanda brushed a lock of your hair out of your face, "We love you more than words could ever explain" she added. "And much more than actions could show" Natasha said, "let's go get that last sale and get out of here. I think our girl deserves a much-needed vacation after tonight" Nat suggested as she kissed you softly. 

"I couldn't agree more!" Wanda said before kissing you as well. 

[wayfayrr]

I would dye for you

so this was inspired by a mix of an ask on @cloudninetonine's account and a couple of details from something I did in totk, but there aren't any story spoilers there's just a screenshot at the bottom.

This is a little fluff side story for something else I'm writing, where Wild and the reader get tossed into reader's world and split from the rest of the yandere chain. I might flesh this out into more of an au but as of now but honestly, this idea just lives rent-free in my brain

"so you’re sure, like completely sure this is what you want"

"I want to try something new, besides it's not like I'll get the chance to have you do this for me again anytime soon, is it? And you’re the one who suggested I should change things up so I don’t get recognised, why not do it like this? "

Wild lifted their arms with the giddiest smile on their face, a box of temporary dye held like the most precious treasure they could've found. Deep cobalt blue, awfully reminiscent of someone’s scarf, just enough to cover all of his hair to hopefully stop the instant recognition of him on the streets wherever the both of you go. 

After the initial shock of them falling through the portal with you back into the real world, if you could even call Hyrule fictional after everything you went through there; after their shock and excitement died down to a reasonable-ish level. The both of you decided perhaps something should be done so people don’t instantly recognise him as Link - the protagonist of Breath of the Wild, new clothes helped, but thankfully the modern world has a few more options for disguises. 

"When I suggested dying your hair, it’s not like I expected you to get a colour that bold, wait - where did you even get that from?"

"I bought it when you were looking at the other dyes, it’s such a fun colour not like anything I could get easily at home. You - you’re not bothered are you?"

With that last sentence wild seemingly decided to try his luck with you, looking up like a kicked puppy begging for reassurance that what he did was okay, that he won’t be in trouble for his actions. Begging you to comfort him, to do anything to get them to smile; all the while knowing they've got you wrapped around their finger. you're all his, no other heroes to steal your attention off of him, to steal away your smile, to steal your sweet voice from your lips, no he's got you all to himself…

as they believe they deserve.

You can't even see the countless red flags burying him in a crimson hue, too focused on helping him adjust to this alien world or if the thought ever crosses your mind that he's too happy about being trapped so far from home it's quickly dismissed.

they're a link, noble, courageous; chosen by Hylia herself. you've got to be imagining things. He couldn't can’t be like that.

it's hard not to cave at his face, so you simply end up ruffling his hair and plucking the box from eager hands.

"no don't worry I'm not, it's your hair so you get the final say on anything about it. just kinda surprised you chose this colour is all. ready then?"

Wild's mood instantly brightened at those few words, with a relieved manic, unhinged smile bright enough to blind anyone not used to him but keeping the same begging eyes through it.

"yeah! Of course I am, you're going to be doing it all for me right? right?"

"Well, you know how to use the shower, so you can wash the dye off yourself, no? But I’ll be helping you with the rest of it all."

He doesn’t even speak that time, opting to pout and turn away from you sulkily, like you’ve said the wrong thing, chosen the wrong option.

"Do you want me to even wash your hair for you after?"

"..."

"...please [name]?"

If you didn’t assume it was because you were the only thing they had familiar to them in this world, you could say that Wild has gotten far more whiny and needy towards you. Of course that can still be said, but there’s a sane reason behind it. 

With a playful sigh, you push Wild down onto a chair, gesturing for them to take off their shirt which they do after a moment of hesitation, their face coated by a blazingly hot blush. After tossing an old towel around their shoulders and tugging on the cheap plastic gloves you could finally start getting to work. Using the bottle of dye’s nozzle to pipe it through their roots making sure every area is coated before running the dye through with your fingers coaxing it through every inch of his hair, drowning the sun by submerging it in the deep blue of the sea. 

Wild for his part was relishing every moment in the bliss of your touch, leaning up into your touch like it’ll cure his every hurt, really it’s a miracle they’re still on the chair and haven’t fallen off with how far they’re leaning into you. Having to gently nudge him back to sitting upright, so that the dye’s even and so that he doesn’t slump to the floor. 

Before he gets the chance to really enjoy the feeling of your fingers in his hair, you're already backing off and peeling away the gloves to admire your work blatantly ignoring his pitiful whine towards your actions.

"That’s the dye in then, so you’ve just gotta wait for a while till it's ready to wash out, won't take long, only half an hour"

they don't even have the dignity to respond to that, sitting there with a sulky pout that goes unnoticed. it takes them a moment for him to shake off the fact that you couldn't just sit there like that for half an hour, before responding.

"So you’re definitely washing my hair for me then?"

"Pfft, yeah someone’s gotta make sure you don’t trash my bathroom with dye. I’ll rinse it off for you in the sink."

"Can you play with my hair longer this time..?"

He would’ve never had the courage to ask that in front of the chain, lest the arguing starts up again. Although now he’d be far more willing to risk that; due to the fact that the two of you’ve been living separately from the chain together for a couple of months now, it’d be far harder to split you apart to the others’ dismay.

The processing went far faster than either of you could’ve expected and soon enough it was time to wash his hair out and see if the dye took to it well, not that there was much of a chance it couldn’t given his natural colour. 

So after leading them to the bathroom and setting them on a chair shifted so they could lean over the sink, you took to work, gently tipping water through their hair to get out all the residue. When the heavy was washed out you switched to massaging his roots till the water ran clear, not a single dash of dye left in sight. Even then you weren’t quite finished deciding to go the extra step, with the conditioner in hand and him melting underneath you.

Shaking him back awake was a new experience though seeing as he’s usually one of the first to wake anyway, then if he were ever to nap it wouldn’t be due to you washing his hair or anyone washing their hair. 

"Hey, link all the dye's washed out now. You've just gotta dry your hair."

"Mh, alright then [name]. I’ll do it."

He’s still drowsier than you’d ever really seen him when you all were travelling through Hyrule but chucking a towel at his head seemed to snap him out of it. Ruffling his hair with the old towel till it was dry enough for him, in other words still dripping wet; he leaned against you with a pleased smile like you hung the very stars in the sky just for him."I love this, it just feels right, thank you so much for helping me like this [name]... And I can count on you doing it whenever I need a top up right?"

so uh, I definitely reacted totally normal when I found out you could dye Link's hair in totk. but on the other hand look at Link with blue hair and tell me I'm wrong - that he doesn't look incredible

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriNo: Instantly Improve Your Writing With One Simple Trick

Want to make your writing instantly better?

Don’t we all?

Promising instant improvement is an easy way to hook eyes, (I’m sort of sorry for click-baiting you— but not too much.) so a lot of writing advice is framed that way.

But is it actually possible?

Generally the advice on those types of posts isn’t anything revolutionary. You’re told to eliminate adverbs/filter words/telling. Or perhaps the advice is additive. You should start using all 5 (or even 6?) senses in every description, do or don’t use certain tenses or povs, change up sentence lengths, use more paragraph breaks, and so it goes.

It’s (usually) all useful advice, especially when applied in moderation. (No one will come and shoot you for occasionally using suddenly or summarizing a scene instead of showing every detail.)

The issues is that a lot of writers (especially beginner writers) are seeking some sort of magic bullet. That one trick that will change everything and magically make you good. (never mind that ‘good’ is far more nebulous and subjective than anyone wants to admit.)

Sadly, once you get beyond learning things like punctuation and when to insert paragraph breaks, there’s not really any single technique that you can quickly apply and immediately lift the quality of your writing.

For the rest, it really takes time. Even if the advice is good, you need to learn when and how to apply it.

As such, there’s only one technique that will definitely make your writing better.

Practice.

Yeah. So boring. The least sexy piece of writing advice. Write more.

But it’s also the simplest. (Not always the easiest, but definitely the simplest!) Writing is not mystic or singular. It’s just like any other art or craft. The only way you get good is by spending time at it. And just like anything else, you’re going to be bad before you can start to get good.

You would never expect to become an accomplished guitarist by spending lots of time listening to and thinking about music, while almost never picking up your instrument to practice. And you will not become a good writer without practicing the action of writing.

It’s a comforting idea that gets bandied around at times, that writing isn’t just fingers on the keys or pen on paper. That it’s thinking and daydreaming and making mood boards etc. While those writing adjacent things are fun and undoubtedly can help you write, they are not writing. They are not practice.

Spending your time doing those things instead of writing do not make you a better writer, and obviously they don’t finish your novel or writing project.

Which is my goal here. To help you finish your project. As such I spend very little time on dispensing advice on plot or prose, and focus mostly on the process of writing.

That’s not to say that I don’t think you should spend time on learning how to write better prose, or how to create compelling characters and plot, those things are important! But if attempting to learn that stuff gets in the way of practice, then it’s counterproductive.

So don’t let the writing advice become the focus of your writing. Apply advice slowly, and don’t overwhelm yourself with trying to fix all your perceived faults at once. (I still have a difficult relationship with punctuation, but I’m learning. Slowly.) If you can, focus on techniques that interest you. Keep things low pressure— fun even?

Yes you want your work to be as good as possible, but also, you’re doing this writing thing because you enjoy it, right? So don’t allow the pressure to be good to stop you from having fun. If trying to apply a certain piece of writing advice is making you miserable, toss it aside. It’s either bad advice, or it’s not the right time for you to worry about it. Above all, avoid anything that kills your joy and makes writing a miserable chore.

So I guess this is my one piece of advice that will improve your writing (process) instantly.

Enjoy yourself, and ditch anything that ruins that joy. You’ll get better at your own pace, as long as you keep writing.

—Maree

Subscribe to my substack to make sure you don't miss a post, chat with me on the WIP Project discord, and tag any posts you make about the challenge with #slomowrino if you want me to see them!

[watchtowerindistress]

we are not our demons (18/24) - bruce wayne x batmom

Gif source: jokerous

Author's note: SHIT'S ABOUT TO GET REAL, BITCHES! instantly regrets the endearment A lot of things will be happening this chapter, so you'd better strap in, I'm serious. This chapter is actually longer than I expected, lol. It's one of the chapters I've been anticipating the most and therefore was most afraid to write.

This is the first time I did a Nolan/Tarantino and just switched the chronological timeline, but this time it was deliberate. I had big issues starting this off (what else is new?), so I just changed it up a bit.

Please excuse me using some 'The Killing Joke' quotes and butchering the whole everything of that comic. [Read more at the end.]

Beta-read by Heidi.

Words: 6.2k

Warning: language, violence, kinda dark themes

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

Hang my head

Drown my fear

‘Til you all just disappear

- Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden -

“Gotta say, weirdest feeling ever being invited into Arkham,” Dick’s voice reverberated through the comms with an equal blend of weirded-out and teasing.

Behind her glasses, Ellie’s eyes narrowed when Dick’s blue-and-black superhero outfit came into view on the next CCTV camera. She tilted her head. “Are you walking on tiptoes right now?”

Dick’s lone figure tensed briefly and continued walking with a flatter stride, but ultimately his shoulders remained strained. “I was a circus artist. Learned ballet and stuff,” Dick defended with a calm voice.

“Please keep off the comms unless it’s important. Don’t get sidetracked,” Bruce’s modulated voice echoed in her ears with a deep timbre.

Someone meant business.

Ellie pressed her lips together to ward off her blushing cheeks. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself due to her nerves and the excitement for tonight’s mission. “Check,” she conceded and studied the available cameras for the asylum, but Batman’s shape still remained to be seen. Judging from his tracker, he was in the elevator shaft getting closer to the crème de la crème of the place.

“Are we sure it’s tonight, Batman?” Damian asked dubiously and brought them back to the mission preparation they just had before in the Batcave.

“Wait, run that by me again.” Ellie licked her lips and felt herself blinking furiously at what Bruce just revealed impromptu.

He sent her a furtive glance when he jostled the phone prototype amid the quiet hum of the elevator leading its inhabitants down to the basement.

“What did that guy say exactly?”

His eyes paused on her, with his eyebrow lifted high on his forehead. “You mean verbatim?”

“Why don’t you start by revealing who that was on the Bat-phone?”

Other than his throat clearing, Bruce remained unfazed when he spoke, “I got someone in the inside of the asylum. He told me the patients have been acting restlessly as of late.”

Ellie merely pursed her lips and a crease formed on her forehead at the absurdity of that one confession.

Dick stated, “Okay, most eerie sentence ever,” and let his finger point in the air to share his playful opinion.

“I concur wholeheartedly,” Ellie agreed with a swaying head before a sigh left her lips. “And here I thought I’d get a more challenging task than the Asylum’s defense.”

“There is more than just Arkham Asylum out there. Trust me,” Bruce replied with an indulgent smirk.

Ellie’s shoulders dropped in accepting disappointment. “Alright.”

As soon as everyone filtered into the cave, Ellie could get to work. After a combination of soft keystrokes, the monitors came to life.

Damian was silently watching the live footage of an athletic Harley Quinn doing slow and relaxing Yoga poses. At the moment she was cultivating an elaborate handstand that would make Ellie envious if she wasn’t this distracted by more important matters.

Bruce nodded to himself, having made up his mind for their mission. “It’s tonight. It has to be.”

“Wait, what’s with this mood lighting?” Dick’s head whipped around, almost like he was noticing the atmosphere for the first time. His voice reached her ears in a mischievous lilt.

Ellie glanced up from her position to be more aware of her surroundings. Dick managed to wrap that truth with a shroud of playfulness once he had his first impression of the modified cave.

Just like Bruce had promised, Alfred had dimmed the lights considerably until the fluorescence was no longer blinding. It even astonished and left her heart aflutter. Not to mention seeing a few technical adjustments to their hideout.

There was always this fascination seeing new technology within her grasp. Especially when she moved towards the object that had the impression of a normal—if not pricey-looking—table standing in the middle of their base. Her fingers reverently touched the milk glass, almost like she could feel being in the presence of high tech, only to see a ripple effect forming underneath.

The words ‘Welcome Miss Rhodes’ conjured next to her right.

Ellie didn’t know whether to feel freaked out or mesmerized by this tech’s high prowess in knowing her identity.

“I adapted the tech to fit your needs.”

Behind her, the soothing warmth of Bruce’s body resembled that of a shield originating from her right side. Ellie’s mesmerized gaze moved away from the touchscreen display to shift over towards the new presence.

Before she could continue asking, Bruce explained like he had been reading her mind, “It’s linked to a satellite of Wayne Enterprises. We call it the Satellite Intelligence and Gravitational Network of Artificial Level. S.I.G.N.A.L. for short.”

“You have a satellite?” Her head turned in surprise before she muttered quietly, “Of course, you have a satellite.” Ellie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just gifted me a satellite.”

Bruce shrugged with a quiet sigh. “The one we had to rebuild after Superman destroyed it, yes. And it’s a satellite link.”

The boys seemed to have noticed their exchange when—like a kid on Christmas awaiting their presents—Dick’s laser-focused glance switched over to her new toy.

“Oh dang, holy Batman!” he exclaimed before his emotional outburst morphed into a reverential murmur the closer he ventured towards them. “New gadgets,” Dick murmured with an awe-filled voice.

“Just for the HQ.” Bruce barely tamed his son’s elation with the lift of an eyebrow.

Dick shrugged haphazardly at that. “I don’t mind. Just so you know, my escrima sticks could use an upgrade too, you know?” It was hard to imagine how his pout could rival Tim’s. “An extra kick would be nice, y’know what I mean?”

Ellie didn’t see Bruce’s reaction, but his long sigh was the familiar epitome to Dick’s playful ideas, or maybe just the weariness of parenthood had been creeping up on him. Listening quietly, Ellie’s brows lifted high on her forehead. Half curious about their conversation and half expectant to get to their nightly mission.

“We’ll see,” Bruce mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe Alfred could try his hand at that,” he offered with a contemplative expression.

Dick’s arrogant pout was perfectly in sync with his head nodding in understanding.

Bruce’s eyes met Damian’s expectantly, whose arm leaned with a devil-may-care attitude against the edge of the table. Ellie absolutely loved this state-of-the-art technology. It was one of the reasons why her eyes lingered with deep fascination on the interface display slowly coming to life, and not Bruce’s response.

“Anything else to add to the shopping list, Damian?”

“I could use a flamethrower,” the young one replied with a blank expression, and kept going once he met the anticipating faces of his father and Ellie riveted on him. Damian pursed his lips in contemplation, racking his brain on how to indulge his lethal instincts.

“Too much? A taser?” Rapid-fire suggestions left his mouth when he was met with reluctance. “Something small to electrocute my enemies with? Like, let’s say … how does 300,000 Volt sound?”

His father’s eye twitched at the blatant display of just pure violence. Dick gazed at Damian while hugging his body with a cocked hip. “How about overkill?”

“You could incapacitate someone with that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“How much AMP?”

"3.6 milliamp."

Bruce paused in thought before consenting ultimately. “Alright. But the moment someone loses their memory, we’ll adjust.”

“Fine.” Damian’s lips thinning was the only facial gesture revealing his emotions to that compromise.

“Wonderful.” Ellie lightly clapped her hands together to move things along. Her sideways glance met Bruce when she inquired, “Back to the task?”

He nodded briefly before saying, “Yes.”

At first, the modern technology was something to get used to. But Ellie still adored the integrative innovation—it just needed a few minutes to connect to the Batcomputer. The files she was looking for slowly pulled up when she swiped the blueprint of Arkham Asylum to the main screen of the milk glass surface.

“This might seem familiar to you, guys,” Ellie surmised once everyone had a good view of the access points.

“As of now, we have been formally invited to Arkham Asylum,” Bruce’s declaration sounded ominous enough as it was.

Ellie’s head nodded in severity while Dick’s blue eyes settled on the visual illustration and his hands braced against his hips. “What’s the game plan?”

“Damian and I go ahead. Dick, you’re following behind on the bike. We go in through the back entrance. Go in separate directions and cover as much ground as possible.”

Damian furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “Divide and conquer,” he hummed, nodding carefully.

Ellie sent him a crooked smirk as her brown eyes twinkled in delight. “Someone’s really digging that strategy.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Damian explained, “What can I say? I deeply admire Caesar’s techniques.”

Dick’s eye moved confusedly in his sockets. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he muttered under his breath.

Bruce cleared his throat to get them back on track. “As I was saying, we move quickly. And always notify our status over the comms. Quinn is kept in the East Wing, in one of the maximum containment cells.”

Ellie only had one thing to add. “Not to mention, deemed highly dangerous. Security thought she’d incentivize people into riots if they kept her just in the violent ward with the others.”

Damian merely nodded in consent while Dick remained mild-mannered, and replied, “Duly noted.”

“Suit up,” Bruce commanded with an authoritative voice, leaving no room for objections.

“Yes,” Bruce offered, not leaving room for any argument. “Status on Quinn?”

“I’m sorry, but if you request contact to the command center of this Bat-Lair, you’re gonna have to use the designated code name.”

Bruce’s loud sigh made her lips twitch and judging by the snickers emanating from Dick and Damian, they too agreed with teasing Bruce just for a little bit. Several seconds passed, prompting Ellie to patiently raise her eyebrows and wonder if he was going to cave.

Bruce coughed before he finally uttered through clenched teeth, “Aether, tell me the status on Harley Quinn.”

“What’s with that look?”

Bruce tilted his head in fascination. “I don’t know. Maybe I was really afraid you’d still choose Lady Pumpkin.”

Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, Lady Pumpkin Patch, if I may. Besides, didn’t want to use my former grey hat hacker name—I mean, not that I would ever dabble in something like that.”

“Sure.” He pursed his lips mockingly with a nod. “How long did it take you to find the right alias?”

Ellie licked her lips, remembering all the possibilities and how most of them were either outlandish or already taken. Mentally, she pumped her clenched fist in frustration.

Damn you, Spectre.

“There were definitely some lists.”

“Why Aether then?”

“It originated from Greek mythology.”

Bruce hummed in acknowledgment. “Primordial deity.”

Ellie’s eyes widened in amazement at his lightning-fast intellect but admonished herself just as fast. Why was she still surprised by this man’s deep knowledge? “Exactly. The Aether is the epitome of the upper sky and basically the pure upper air that the Gods breathe.” Ellie shrugged her shoulders, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “Maybe I just like the idea of being your eye in the sky.”

Ellie could feel Dick’s presence behind her, especially when he used the back of her revolving chair she was sitting on as a support for his arms. Dick was leaning against it and casually steered her movements out of sheer amusement.

“I think it’s great,” Dick threw in and instantly managed to soothe her worries of sounding cheesy when she threw her head back to send him a grateful smile.

A certain someone sounded close to growling.

Ellie shut off her comm line to giggle to herself before she got serious again when she answered, “In her cell. Doing the plank pose…” Her eyes lingered in enthrallment on the woman’s steady core training while she was holding herself up with the underside of her arm. “Quite expertly if I do say so myself,” Ellie muttered under her breath.

“I’ll report to you when there are new status updates.”

“Ditto.”

Ellie exhaled loudly, shutting off her audio. This night turned out to be even more stressful than she anticipated. Her arms stretched out in front of her when a hand brushed her shoulder.

“Oh, dear God!” Ellie shrieked and pressed a hand against her chest. The spot where she was touched shifted from ice-cold shock to a hot mark of mortification. Her eyes wandered to her right side before her breathing turned back to normal. “You’re such a Ninja-Alfred—don’t do that to me, okay?”

Alfred’s lips twitched at the coined name before his hands clasped together inches away from his stomach. “My deepest apologies for my stealthiness, Miss Ellie.”

“Accepted,” Ellie conceded with an exhaling breath.

Tim’s small figure stepped away from behind Alfred’s tall frame like he had been silently standing there all along—

someone had been learning from Damian after all—

and clasped his fingertips on the edge of the table while gazing at the computer display.

“Hey, Timmy,” came Ellie’s softly spoken words. It was hard to resist the urge to comb her hand through his hair—the intelligent boy always had this rumpled look to him. Who didn’t want to squeeze those pinchable cheeks?

“Hi, Ellie,” Tim replied with a barely audible voice. His moss-green eyes met hers for a fragment of a second before they were lingering on Harley’s hands talking to each other.

“I thought Master Tim here needed a breath of fresh air from one of his binge-reading sessions, as the young kids like to call it,” Alfred thankfully answered her unspoken question. “We’re not here to disrupt your progress. This young gentleman wants to observe my chore of upgrading equipment.”

Ellie’s head tilted to look at the side of Tim’s face. “Someone’s turning into a young Alfred, huh?” she praised the boy before she was forced to shift her focus back to the task she was initially assigned for. “Sorry, guys, gotta devote my time to some clowns for a bit, alright?”

“Proceed. We’ll be right around the corner at the workstation,” Alfred offered with the wave of his hand and stepped backwards, prompting Tim to move ahead. The small kid’s movements were awkward and slow-paced when his footsteps thudded lightly on the ground.

“Can I hold the screwdriver, Alfred?” he inquired curiously when he placed the wooden stool near his feet and elevated himself to a higher level.

“I need steady hands though. You think you can be my little assistant?”

Tim quietly nodded, with his eyes already focusing on the shock gloves needing another upgrade.

With a smile tugging on her lips, Ellie shifted her body back until she was facing the Batcomputer again.

“Robin, what’s your status?”

Silence followed Batman’s order. A predicament which made Ellie’s head do a double-take. Taking the second monitor to her advantage, the tips of her fingers pressed fluidly against the keypad to access the GPS tracker in the Robin suit.

Ellie frowned with an intense aura once Damian’s location became visible. “I can trace Robin’s position back to the hallway close to the containment cells.”

Before her alert status was even fully articulated, Batman’s figure rushed through the air on the security footage.

“I thought we were supposed to talk to each other,” Dick mused grumpily.

A statement which incited Bruce to retort with a growling voice, “Just focus on the task at hand.”

Deep suspicion throbbed at the back of her head when Harley looked straight ahead, with her blue eyes staring intensely at something behind the containment glass. The woman was standing so close to the barrier that it was hard to distinguish which kind of emotions boiled behind those ocean eyes. Menace was radiating in waves off of her.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, a masked Joker goon stepped into view, with his back turned towards her. Chills erupted on her forearms when the clown slowly turned his head until he was looking directly into the camera.

Disgust coiled her stomach into knots as she groaned, “Screw this Purge shit.”

Someone coughing barely reached her senses. “Everything alright there, Miss Rhodes?”

“Just splendid, Alfred,” Ellie replied instantaneously before she let her fingers do their hacker magic. Her brown eyes strained vehemently on the heat signature painting a vivid picture of the threat ahead.

“I detect about a dozen hostiles. Get ready, it’s starting.”

“Understood,” Bruce replied with an ominous voice after a moment of silence.

Tension wreaked through her body when she switched between the camera channels, but unfortunately the Joker was a no-show and only his crazy thugs roamed the halls without a care in the world. Not to mention, no sign of Damian either.

Ellie’s hand covered her clenched fist which shielded her mouth. “Please, be alright,” she whispered into her palms in a prayer. “I’ve sent you Robin’s location to the tracer device. You’re about 500 feet away from him.”

“We’ll find him,” the caped crusader assured her.

“Is that you, Batman?” The notoriously high voice resounded in her ears.

Ellie’s head whipped in the air once she connected the guffawing nature of the sound with the origin. She held her breath as the sensation of ants crawling underneath her skin made the extent of her worst fears for tonight’s mission come to fruition.

Son of a bitch.

With a gradual sweep, Ellie’s eyes shifted to the left side of the screen and identified the transforming waveform of the communication link next to the codename ‘Robin’. The muscles surrounding her mouth stiffened at the Joker’s violation.

“Why won’t you talk to me, Batsy?” Joker said after heavy silence hung in the air.

All-consuming tenacity infiltrated her veins like a parasite when her upper body shifted into a more agile stance. “I’ve opened a separate channel. Joker has access to our line with the help of Robin’s radio device. Keep him talking. I still have no visual on Joker or Robin yet.”

“Got it,” Dick stated hurriedly over the radio. “En route from the Southeast corridor.”

The clown’s voice was starting to grate on her ears. “I know you’re in here. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been desperate to get in touch with me. Is something the matter, Batsy?”

“Stop playing games, Joker,” Batman grunted lowly as his blinking dot got increasingly closer to the younger vigilante, and hopefully their target as well.

“And take all the fun away?” He giggled with a demented air that didn’t fail to leave shivers down her spine. “You’re just as humorless as this little bird here.” Joker’s pregnant pause gave way to something far more sinister lurking underneath.

“You have something to say to the good ol’ bat?” A humming noise reverberated from deep within his chest. “No, nothing to say? Looks like someone’s too stubborn for his own good. I got ways of making people talk,” Joker stressed every word of that last sentence with a ground whisper.

“Leave Robin out of this.”

“Why don’t you say that to my face? But first, you’ve got to find me,” he sing-songed devilishly.

Ellie’s eyes zeroed in on the scene she was witnessing when she leaned forward, pushing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. She whispered quietly into the microphone device, “I got visual on Robin and Joker. They’re on the platform leading to the containment cells.”

“All this attention just for little ol’ me? Tell me something, Batsy, when are you finally going to break your rules? You barely bent them for that little birdie. I wonder … how far are you willing to go for Commissioner Gordon’s niece?”

~ Bruce POV~

Bruce forced himself to remain calm in his composure as the halls surrounding him grew darker the closer he got to the blinking dot of his son. His jaw clenched at the reminder of Jason’s fate and the meaningless abuse on Barbara.

As much as Bruce wanted to release his inhibitions to hurt his nemesis in return, under no circumstances could he unveil his pressure point to him.

Bruce’s features twisted into a disgusted grimace. “You hurt Barbara … because you wanted to prove something? If you were half a man, you would stop being a coward and face me without hiding behind a child,” he enunciated the last word calmly despite the turmoil ravaging inside him. The dark cape swooshed near the ground behind him when he rounded the corner—

and faced the one thing he had been dreading for weeks on end.

Bruce sighed under his breath. Joker was standing on the opposite end of the bridge while his crazed thugs held Damian captive with the threat of using their firearms against him.

As usual, Damian was facing his opponents with a stubborn glare and a sharp jaw. Other than a red bruise forming on his cheek.

At last, Bruce’s eyes targeted the delighted expression in the Joker’s bright green-eyed gaze. His purple glove-covered hands stretched out in a flamboyant attitude on each side, a golf club clenched tightly in one glove. “Well, here I am,” the green-dyed man giggled from afar. “And it looks like I found another Robin.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks when the words he heard from a distance echoed like a haunting trigger in his ears as well. Stretching out his gloved fingers, he resisted the urge to create some friction at his fingertips and reveal another weakness. Not necessarily an outcome Bruce preferred in the grand scheme of things.

Disappointment was the predominant expression on his face when the Joker shook his head, dropping his hands at his waist. “Not the welcome I expected.”

“How did you expect me to react exactly?”

“Grateful,” he hissed with a menacing whisper, “I’m trying to open your eyes here, but you make it so much harder than it needs to be.”

“Keep him talking,” Ellie’s whispering voice said in his ear softly and calmed his thudding heart, “Nightwing is right underneath you and will act on your signal.”

Bruce’s gaze swerved to Damian’s right and subtly hummed in consent.

“I’m listening. What do you want to show me?”

“Your true self. Don’t you realize that all it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy?” Like the thought itself was hilarious, his voice pitched even higher. “That’s how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. You had a bad day once. Surely, you must have. You had a bad day, and it drove you as crazy as everybody else… only you won’t admit it!”

This psychology lesson was starting to grate on his nerves the longer he had to listen to Joker’s delusions, especially since he couldn’t control his son getting even more hurt the further this was prolonged.

“Barbara was innocent in all of this.”

“She was necessary. A means to an end to the grand play.”

Every single word he uttered was pulled apart with a growling sensation. “Let. Robin. Go.”

Joker’s erratic scream echoed through the asylum, “As soon as you finally admit it!” before the sound transformed into maniacal laughter. “That we’re the same.” His hands hid behind his back as he casually walked around Damian’s body when he tried to prove his point. The threatening glint of the metal shone under the asylum’s lights. “Only I realized that nothing made sense—that code of yours, of value, of morality—it means nothing. You think those rules are protecting people?”

A twisted smirk drew on his curved lips as an icy expression took over his eyes. “When I saw what a dark, awful joke the world was, I went crazy as a nut! And I’m smart enough to admit it! So why can’t you!?” The green in his eyes only intensified with the crazed look. “You’re clinging to this reality, and you’re desperately denying the reality of the situation! Everything anybody’s ever valued or struggled for—it’s all just a bad joke.”

God, that guy needed psychological help.

The shoulders in his dark-purple suit shook with erupting chuckles that grew with intensity at the mere idea. “So why can’t you see the funny side!? WHY AREN’T YOU LAUGHING!!??”

“We are not the same,” Bruce replied calmly.

Joker exhaled loudly. “You disappoint me, Batman,” he muttered gravely. Before long, his face turned dark as he slowly lifted his head and sent him a diabolical glance from under his eyelashes.

“Don’t you see?” The gloves squeaked with its movement when his grip tightened on the metal equipment. “You’re just one bad day away from being me,” Joker breathed with exertion before whooping laughter wrenched free from his chest.

“Woohoohoo,” he exclaimed gleefully and swung his golf club, striking behind him.

“No!” Bruce’s voice scrambler contorted his outcry when his eyes widened.

~ Ellie POV ~

Tears gathered in the corner of Ellie’s eyes. Her palms covered her mouth in shock to ward off the scream in mid-cry. Soundless static rang in her ears at the horrifying video revealing the pained expression underneath Damian’s mask as he was brought to his knee, holding his arm to his chest.

Robin’s health stats were displayed above his audio waveform. His heartbeat intensified at the added injury, giving off bouts of anxiety.

“Damian,” Ellie heard behind her quietly. With a stricken face, the brunette stood up from her seat and detected Tim was standing behind her—and closer than she first realized.

Her back shielded most of the Batcomputer from any onlookers, but the boy still had seen enough. Her eyes wandered towards Alfred’s concerned gaze and hoped he understood what she was asking for here. “Alfred, could you—?” she begged with a thick voice.

“Certainly, Miss Ellie,” Alfred assured her and moved in the direction of Tim.

Ellie pleaded with him, “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t do that if—”

Alfred nodded once before soothing her worries. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be on the floor below.”

Tim’s widened eyes looking back tore at her heartstrings. But unfortunately, Ellie needed to jump in the cold water again, she realized, when she sat in the chair. Her fingers were shaking nervously above the keyboard, feeling too stunned to react. The edges of her sight blurred with a throbbing pulse until she clenched her hands into fists. Trying to fend off the chill which had taken root in her body.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ellie worked on accessing the asylum’s power grid. Her heart only hammered more vigorously in her chest at witnessing Joker deliver a blow over the head when he was lying defenselessly on the platform.

Jesus. Ellie absolutely was starting to loathe this retro network.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if this one endured the same fate as its predecessor? You love birds with broken wings, don’t you?”

She frowned deeply in perplexed stupor when Batman wasted no time in utilizing the grappling hook—generally intended for scaling walls—

and targeted the Joker’s throat. With the flick of his wrist the criminal was dragged like an accelerated magnet towards him. The tips of Joker’s feet crawled on the metal grid underneath before a hard punch so powerful sent him flying over the ledge. Without glancing back, Batman dropped the hook, letting the end of it anchor on the edge of the railing. A dangling Joker was gasping for breath and clawing for his throat.

Nightwing sprinted under the metal overpass and spoke incredulously on comms, “That was supposed to be the signal? Really?”

“We need to get the Joker. Just keep Robin safe,” Ellie reminded Dick with intense fervor.

His black-and-blue suit jumped from underneath and with a somersault kicked an assailant in the face before landing on his feet. “On it.”

Despite the grievous injuries, Damian tried his best to fend for himself when his stepbrother came to his defense, fighting together back-to-back.

The sound of quick keystrokes was a dull diversion thumping at the back of her head when her brain tried to comprehend her viewpoint. The mess of everything was truly starting to gnaw at Ellie once Bruce’s rigid stature stalked towards the ledge.

Ambiguity marred her features as soon as her eyes switched between Joker’s hollering face—notwithstanding the life-threatening situation he was in—and Bruce just silently staring at him with a blank face. The corners of her mouth twisted with torn emotion as Joker lifted his arm in surrender, pleading with Batman to be saved.

“Is this really how you want this to end, Batsy?” he taunted with a wheezing murmur.

This was seriously getting out of hand, Ellie perceived numbly.

The electric grid was laid in front of her eyes, including the code to initiate a lockdown. At the last second, Ellie opted for a lockout instead of merely a power grid outage to keep everyone contained. She felt close to tasting her success when the blueprint glared red before an error alert displayed ‘Electricity outage initiated’.

“What?” Ellie hissed, throwing her hands in the air in utter dismay. Her gaze twisted back to the live footage and found the asylum doused into darkness.

“What was that?” Batman’s voice inquired urgently.

“That wasn’t me,” she spoke into the microphone defensively. “You’ll get power back in a few seconds,” Ellie confided in them as her fingers entered its new command into the network. She closed her eyes in immense failure after studying the asylum halls and knowing the one thing for sure she had suspected.

The Joker had already disappeared.

Ellie’s breath released with a long exhale. Her hands were tightened into fists. Her jaw was clenched while she was trying with all her might to keep her cry of frustration in. With her wide eyes and mouth agape, she was facing the screen. Feeling so empty in a way she had never felt before.

“I didn’t do this,” she stated with a dazed sensation in her chest and pressed her lips together.

Her body was operating on auto-pilot when she called in everyone for a mission debrief. Everyone except Dick who stayed behind to placate the executives at Arkham Asylum.

Ellie’s jaw hardened once this unfamiliar code was branded into her eyeballs. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her closed eyelids. Ellie just felt so drained, like she had persisted through the end of a therapy session.

A heavy exhale pushed through her chest when she stood up, only for her breathing to pick up as well. Ellie’s eyes didn’t meet anything in particular with her head bowed down.

With great and surprising finesse, her voice sounded without emotion when she called out, “I need some fresh air, okay, Alfred? The others will arrive in 15 minutes.”

Her unfocused eyes stared right ahead while Alfred said in return, “Duly noted, Miss Ellie.”

Her gait was unhurried and Ellie stroked the tips of her fingers together when she was struggling to understand why her heart started thudding in her ears while quiet tears crept in the corner of her eyes.

Why was it so hard to keep everything together?

Furiously, Ellie shook her head as the familiar walls of the corridor met her eyes. The fingertips of her right hand brushed against the wall to hold onto something as long as she wanted to remain conscious. Inhaling deep breaths turned out to be a mistake when her breathing stuttered with nervous energy. With every inhale and exhale, Ellie got closer to the entrance door of the manor—she could almost taste that whiff of relief.

She breathed out as soon as the biting air occupied her lungs. Stepping out onto the front entryway, Ellie’s hands vigorously brushed her wool cardigan, feeling grateful for the autumn chill.

Trying to find something—just anything to hold onto—her head anxiously swerved around. Every breath was starting to hurt. Even breathing in was a struggle not to break down. Hot tears only intensified the bout of frustration swelling up, threatening to swallow her whole. Ellie’s chest rose irregularly with every breath as her hands settled on her hips. Burning teardrops streamed relentlessly down her cheeks and it felt just so useless.

Damian’s anguished eyes flashing through her mind was the last and only thought taking over before control was an inconceivable sentiment.

Ellie’s hands were clenched into fists while she crouched low to her knees. A long wailing cry of despair pierced through the night sky until there was no longer any air left in her lungs. Until her vocal cords felt sore. Ellie’s chilling and stuttering breath was visible in front of her very eyes. A savage emotion lit up in those orbs when her breathing returned back to normal.

However, her lungs were still scorching ceaselessly.

“What was that?” Bruce’s cowl was still covering his face when he energetically jumped out of the Batmobile. His hardened jaw was the only thing she saw underneath that mask. His partial expression stood in frightening contrast when he walked briskly into the lair.

Ellie was still sitting behind the Batcomputer while her absentminded eyes followed Alfred helping a bruised Damian step out of the vehicle. There was a twinge in her chest just looking at him.

“There was another hacker tonight,” Ellie revealed numbly, just recalling that unexpected invasion hurt her pride enough. Something in Bruce’s eyes stood out to her. Ellie’s expression turned shocked. “You don’t believe me? I intended to initiate a lockdown and not a power outage. I meant to keep everyone contained. Not only that, but I mean, we still got Harley Quinn.”

“That’s all we got.” Bruce’s chest rumbled with emotion as another failure hit him. “We’ve got no guarantee that Joker is going to come after her again just for the fun of it.”

Alfred and Tim flanked Damian’s side when the older brother sent a silent but concerned glance towards him.

“You good?” Tim asked him with a low whisper and tilted his head in doing so.

A question to which Damian merely nodded briskly, without uttering a single word to display what he was currently feeling. The bruises on his forehead and cheek were starting to darken. Ellie believed there was more to the mask Damian was shielding behind to cover up the vulnerability, he would under no circumstances put on display.

Damian spoke up for the first time, “What’s done is done. We need to think about another strategy and regroup.”

A feeling of gratefulness hit her instantly that this kid was trying to alleviate budding tension which soon shifted into regret once her inquiring gaze lingered on the consequences of tonight. The Joker got him good—Ellie was honestly surprised how Damian was still standing upright.

Her eyes wandered back to Bruce again, worried about the effects the Joker left behind on all of them. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”

“You mean that Damian sustained grave trauma or that I hesitated when Joker hung over the ledge?”

Ellie’s body winced at Bruce’s frankness that bordered on scathing. “He was trying to push you over the edge and there was a part of you that at least considered it.”

His eyes narrowed as his arms crossed over his chest, getting ready to push back. “You want to talk about my misgivings, that’s fine, but don’t forget that you let someone else get the better of you.”

Ellie’s features turned to stone when Bruce managed to hit the one spot she was still sore about. She was the only one who could put herself down due to her struck pride. Mortification heated up in her belly as the fight for control was hard enough, but she barely reined it in.

Alfred chose this moment to tame any more tension-filled conversations. “If I may say, I believe we all need to take a breather and get a good night’s sleep.”

Ellie could feel Bruce’s heavy stare on her while he was mutely just looking at her without saying anything.

“You’re probably right,” Bruce replied, sending the older man a brief glance before he walked off without another word.

Exhaling heavily, Ellie stared after him with unsaid emotions as her back sagged in her seat. She let a strained smile draw on her lips when her eyes met Damian’s again. “Let’s get you patched up, huh?”

The youngest Wayne child was escorted a floor below to the med bay. For the first time, his features twisted into a pained grimace once he was lying down on the operating table.

Wordlessly, Ellie’s eyes studied his injuries, and the young woman could feel her heart tear into pieces.

This was just so unfair.

Her inner upheaval must’ve shown on her expression when Damian’s chocolate-brown eyes met hers. The first droplets of sweat gathered above his eyebrows.

“I’ll survive,” he whispered with a tense voice, already understanding the inner thoughts she was stuck with.

And the tears were back in her eyes.

She forced a comforting smile on her face as much as it pained her to muster it up and nodded. Iron resolve settled in her bones the longer Ellie gazed at him. Damian might see himself as utterly wicked, but to her the young one was an innocent child who didn’t deserve this kind of pain. Only because of a man who wanted to corrupt the people around him.

Ellie ground her teeth as her decision was made final.

No more.

A/N: The following code names were in the run: Overlord, Nemesis, Corvus, Zero-Day and Grey Hat. To be honest, I wanted the alias to sound dope and have a profound meaning at the same time. Overlord would've been only cool because of the Led Zeppelin reference, lol.

Small trivia about Aether: he embodies the pure upper air that the gods breathe, as opposed to the normal air breathed by mortals. I chose Aether because Ellie's literally the eye in the sky, and I didn't want to steal "Watchtower" from Smallville.

Tagging:@mellowstatesmanhandsempath​ @ravenmoore14​ @alwayshave-faith​ @ikranfuad​ @daydreaming-gemini​ @bluegalaxyprime​ @liadamerondjarin​ @steph21369 @andrewswifes-blog​  @yanna-banana  @blackmagicwoman ​

[imagineyourworld]

The Paper

Steven Grant x Genderneutral!Reader, Marc Spector x Genderneutral!Reader (established relationship with both of them, though the fic focuses mostly on Steven)

Summary: You’re struggling with your term paper, luckily your boyfriends are there to cheer you up

Warnings: Talk of academic failure, self doubt

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By the time Steven came home you hadn’t gotten anything done. You had promised him a delicious dinner to celebrate the end of the week, you had promised yourself to write at least two pages for your paper. And you hadn’t managed either. Instead you had spent half the day scrolling aimlessly on your phone and the other half either staring at an almost blank document or writing, deleting, and rewriting the same two paragraphs.  “Hello, love. How was your day?”  Your boyfriend’s cheerful voice as he closed the door and removed his coat and shoes only made you feel worse.  “Can we please just not talk about that?”  The cheerfulness in his voice was replaced by something darker, something more concerned as he called from the bathroom. “That bad?”  With a huff you finally closed your laptop, not even bothering to make sure the couple of sentences you had managed to write that day were saved, you knew you’d delete them the other day anyway.  “The worst,” you sighed. “Why did I ever think studying history would be a good idea?”  You turned around in your chair once the water stopped running and a moment later your boyfriend stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as you laid your eyes on him you regretted unloading all your crap on Steven. The dark circles under his eyes and frown on his lips spoke of yet another night with barely any sleep and a stressful day at work, and here you were complaining about writing a simple paper.  “Because you love it,” Steven simply said. He walked over to you and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead before pulling your head towards him and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You instantly leaned into him, burying your face in his soft t-shirt. It smelled of lavender and something that you could not name, a scent that was just Steven.  “I do. I love history, but why did I think it would be a good idea to quit my job, my job at a museum I might add, to go back to uni? It’s madness and I should have known better,” you mumbled into Steven’s torso.  Instead of saying anything your boyfriend just pulled you even closer. For a while you stayed like that, breathing him in and enjoying a small moment of peace.  “I didn’t even make you the special dinner I promised.”  Steven pressed a kiss to your hair before letting go of you.  That’s it, you thought. Now I have made him mad. Steven always does everything in his power to take care of my and I can’t even make a bloody dinner. He’s gonna leave. He’s gonna leave me because he finally realised just how much of a loser I am.  You should have more faith in your boyfriend, because instead of leaving Steven got down on his knees in front of you so the two of you were eye to eye.  “Who cares? We can get some takeaway. What about that Indian place we’ve been dying to try? Or maybe pasta?”  Before you had the chance to say anything, Steven took both of your hands in his and began to rub soothing circles on your knuckles.  “Why don’t you take a shower while I order the food?”  Finally, you nodded. With a soft smile Steven lifted your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on each one, causing you to smile as well, though yours was nowhere near as bright as his.  “Steven?”  Steven, who had already gotten up to look for his phone, turned around to look at you.  “Yeah?” There was a fearful expression in his eyes, though you had no idea what it could mean.  “Can I get extra naan bread?”  As quick as it had come the fear vanished again.  “Love, I’d buy you an entire bakery if I could.”  For the first time that day the sound of laughter floated through the flat. How Steven always managed to lift your mood even on the worst of days you would never know.  “Just the bread, please.” 

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“The worst thing is that I actually am interested in the topic and it’s not like it’s the first paper I’ve written, I know I should be able to do this, but I just can’t. Every single word I write sounds wrong, I can’t make sense of my own notes, and I don’t even think I have a bloody hypothesis! What paper doesn’t have an hypothesis?” You had been rambling about your paper for almost fifteen minutes, all the time it had taken Steven to finish his food and for yours to go cold.  “When is the deadline?”  “At the end of the month, eleven days from now,” you mumbled while simultaneously trying to chew a gigantic load of curry and rice.  “And you far you only have the introduction?”  You nodded, still chewing.  “That’s not that bad.”  Finally you swallowed your food and were able to talk again. “Not that bad? Steven, I still need to write at least ten pages, ten incredible pages, and proofread and make a bibliography and I don’t even like what I have written so far.”  Steven nodded. “You know, I’ve talked to Marc and we both think you’ve got this. You’re brilliant. After all, you managed to put up with Donna for years, how hard can a degree be after that torture?”  His words put a slight smile to your face, and yet you shook your head.  “Stevie, you guys have to say that, you’re my boyfriends. But my professor probably won’t agree. And I need a good grade, otherwise my entire average will be pulled down by this one paper.”  Steven didn’t say anything, he simply reached across the table to take your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “Why don’t you walk me through everything you’ve written so far and we can go from there?”  At first you nodded enthusiastically, Steven was bloody brilliant when it came to history.  “And Marc said he could always threaten your professor to make sure you’ll pass. Though I think he was joking,” Steven said.  Laughter burst past your lips. “I hope so. God, I don’t know what I would do without you guys.”  You got up from your chair and walked over to Steven to engulf him in a tight hug, to which he replied by pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your middle.  “You’d be just fine without us, you’re smart and funny and you underestimate yourself.” You didn’t know how to reply to that, so you simply didn’t. Instead you leaned against Steven, resting your head on his, his curls tickling your nose.  “I love you,” you whispered.  He turned his head to press a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I love you too.”  “If I do fail you both owe me something. I was thinking ice cream.”  Your boyfriend chuckled.  “Or we’ll go to Italy for a weekend, to celebrate your amazing paper,” he proposed, his voice now slightly altered and American. 

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This was nothing if not self indulgent and me procrastination writing my actual paper, hope you liked it anyway. 

[sanchosgf]

comfort in you - giovanni reyna

today had been the worst day, it started off when your forgot your hoodie, leaving your cold and miserable for the duration of the day. ending with you spilling coffee all over your notes, it was safe to say you were minutes away from breaking down.

by the time you’d made it back home you were shivering and on the verge of tears, wanting nothing more than a hug from gio. you open the door quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

the sight of him cuddled on the couch in his oversized hoodie lifted the weight on your chest slightly. though it brought a wave of tears to your eyes. gio wasn’t aware of your presence until you let out a small sniffle. he was up in an instant, walking quickly until he was in front of you.

“hey hey baby, what’s wrong?” his hands came up to cup your cheeks, thumbs gently swiping away your tears, though it was no use they continued to fall as you finally fell apart.

you shook your head before falling into his arms, knowing that you wouldn’t be able form a sentence in this state.

gio was quick to return the embrace, arms wrapping tightly around you as he held you flush against his chest. he swayed the two of you gently as you cried into his chest, your hands grasping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

“let it all out, i’ve got you.�� his words were paired with a kiss to your head and you finally felt yourself calming down, sobs turning into small sniffles.

gio pulled away slowly when your sniffles subsided, his hand coming up to cup your cheek so he could tilt your head up slightly.

a frown settled on his face as he looks into your red rimmed eyes, hating how upset you looked.

“let’s get you into something warmer and then we can go cuddle, yeah?”

you nod gently, still not trusting your voice. gio smiles warmly, placing a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers and leading you upstairs. he instructs you to sit on the bed as he looks for his warmest hoodie, eventually deciding to strip off the one he’s wearing so you could wear it. he finds a new one for himself before coming back into the room.

gio hands you the hoodie, smiling as you take it eagerly and slip it over your head, instantly relaxing as the scent of him envelops you.

“thank you.”

gio presses a long kiss to your forehead in reply before situating himself against the pillows. he opens his arms to you once he finds a comfortable position and you eagerly crawl into them, your head placed directly above his heart as you throw one of you legs over his own. completely wrapping yourself around his frame.

gio welcomes your affection as he scatters kisses across your forehead, his heart jumping as a small smile crosses your face.

one of his hands slips under your hoodie, rubbing soft circles on your back to soothe you slightly.

“what happened today angel?”

you let out a sigh, knowing you’d feel better after you talked about it.

“everything went wrong today, i left my hoodie at home so i was cold all day, then i spilt coffee all over my notes that took hours to write and i’ve had the worst headache all day which put me in a bad mood.”

a few tears slip down your face as you think back on the day you’d had. gio shushes your softly, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“i’m sorry all that happened baby, is there anything i can do?”

you simply shake your head before cuddling closer.

“just need to be held for a while.”

gio was more then happy to comply, his hold on you tightening slightly as he leant down to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

“why don’t we finish off bridgerton?”

you nod again, the weight of your day meting off as you settle into the comfort only he could provide.

[peachycoreroo]

i was thinking, what about boys from haikyuu losing game and taking their anger on their s/o in bed to the point s/o is saying safe word, crying? if that's too much, just make them really angry, hurting s/o with words.

i was thinking about Suna, Kita and maybe Shirabu?

characters: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.8k

warnings: fem!reader, angry boys, established relationships, spanking, one (1) face slap, choking, vaginal penetration, oral m!receiving, usage of ‘whore’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’, heavy degradation, semi-public sex, pretty harsh words are said, safe word is used

authors note: uuu this is my first darker piece for hq, but it does end in fluff!! i tweaked it so it fits the timeskip, but just a friendly reminder that this is pure fiction, your favs love you and would never hurt you<3 here's a link to my masterlist

pt.2: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

suna rintarou:

it wasn’t often that your boyfriend resorted to pounding the living shit out of you immediately when you had sex, usually opting for teasing you till you couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to fuck you or took the reins in your own hands and rode him till you were both shaking from overstimulation.

this time, was bad though.

the japanese national volleyball team just lost the finale of the olympics, resulting in them only getting the silver medal. no matter how amazing the second-place sounded, it still hit hard to miss the big gold by a hair.

just like how hard suna was currently hitting your ass, as he fucked into you in the empty changing room of the team. you only wanted to check on him when you saw how dejected he looked as he left the field with the team, when the tall brunet just ripped down your clothes and bent you over, fury dancing in his greenish eyes.

you knew how hard rintarou and his teammates worked for this. it was only natural they couldn’t celebrate. losing is still losing, no matter if you’re getting a medal.

“f-fuck, rin, it hurts”, you wailed, tears already streaming down your face from the full-force slaps that were delivered to your sore ass cheeks. being bent over with only the locker in front of you and sunas’ hands on your hips as a leverage to not fall face first on the floor, slowly took a troll on your tired body. it also didn’t help that your legs were barely able to keep you up with how powerful his thrusts were.

“shut the fuck up and take it, worthless whore”, he growled furiously, thrusts only increasing in speed, and a hand sneaking to your front, wrapping itself around your neck. the cruel comments that usually caused your cunt to flutter and eyes roll back, suddenly made your heart sink.

you knew he was angry at being defeated by the opposing team and not at you, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest, or the tears that seemed to multiply at his cold remark.

when the adjustment of his hips caused him to hammer his fat tip painfully against your cervix and his hand tightened harshly around your throat, your knees gave out and you tried to scream only for nothing to come out of your mouth.

“useless, fucking bitch, can’t even stand upright. why do i even keep you around?” he aggressively huffed, not paying any attention to your comfort. you couldn’t take this anymore.

your body went completely limp, as you whispered a small, choked ‘silk’, not even being sure if he heard, when his mind was so clouded by rage.

but he did. and his heart painfully clenched when he recognized the hurt tone in your voice, instantly letting go of your bruised throat and ceasing his thrusts.

guilt filled him as he pulled out and finally looked at you to see you sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapping protectively around your form as if you were afraid of him hurting you.

“hey… hey, y/n, sweetie, look at me.” suna’s gentle tone had you looking up at him, your vision blurry as your pained expression met his tender one.

“’m s-sorry i couldn’t help you, r-rin’. ‘m sorry y-you lost”, you stuttered out helplessly.

here you were, crying and in pain, but still thinking about him. the brunet was sure he didn’t deserve you.

“no, i’m sorry, pretty. i got carried away”, the tall volleyball player whispered softly, his large palms cupping your cheeks, “i love you and i never want to hurt you. please, forgive me.”

the guilt etched into his handsome face showed you just how bad he really felt, your lips lifting in a small smile. “’s ok, rin’. i love you too.”

the tall male breathed out a sigh of relief as he embraced you tightly and kissed your forehead. suna rintarou would never get carried away like this again. that, he promised himself.

kita shinsuke:

when kita got home, all dejected and upset because some assholes decided to trash grandma yumie’s precious crops in the darkness of the night, you opened your arms with love and understanding. what you didn’t expect however, as you asked how you could help, was to end up on your knees with your boyfriend abusing your throat for what felt like hours.

your knees were aching from the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor, throat painfully contracting around his thick length as he pounded your mouth as if it were your cunt, jaw hurting from holding it open for so long.

you felt like you would pass out any minute, and while normally kita would immediately sense any of your slightest mood shifts when you were being intimate, he didn’t this time.

where there was usually a caring boyfriend who wouldn’t take his gaze of your face and always asked if you’re doing okay, was a guy who had a far away look on his frowning face, only using you as an outlet for his anger.

the white-black haired male was almost scarily quiet, only occasional grunts and growls escaping his lips. your gurgling and gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat with every forceful thrust were painful to listen to, and you couldn’t wrap your head around your boyfriend not realizing what he was doing to you.

as tears streamed down your numb face, you weren’t able to stop your teeth from grazing his fat cock, your throbbing jaw not cooperating with your brain anymore.

kita let out an animalistic growl as he pulled out of your wet mouth at once, a sudden slap to your tender cheek startling you.

“you asked how to help and you’re doing exactly that, but can’t even do that for me, huh?”, he spat almost hostilely.

the hurtful words, the harsh slap and the rage painted on his usually calm and kind face made your heart ache, as you sobbed out a ‘peach! shin’, please! peach!’

kita suddenly felt as if he awoke from a hypnosis, when he heard you cry out your safe word. as his -now clear- gaze fell on you, he couldn’t help his chest from painfully tightening. you only offered to help, and he’s gone and hurt you like never before.

falling on his knees in front of you, he pulled you into his strong arms, rocking you both side to side as he apologetically murmured ‘i’m so sorry, angel’ and ‘i love you’ over and over again into your messy hair.

“m’ okay, shinsuke. just wanted to help", you sniffled against his chest, making kita close his eyes out of pure shame that he did that to you.

“let’s get you into the bathtub and i’ll cook your favorite, how does that sound love?”, he whispered softly, as if afraid that any of his next movements would make you break.

the next few weeks you barely got to do anything, kita shinsuke always glued to your side and immediately taking over any task that was thrown at you.

shirabu kenjirou:

being a med student was fucking exhausting. shirabu had spent months writing a very important thesis about certain brain tumors on newborns, only for his professor to give him a c. something about it not being detailed enough.

“fuck you”, shirabu spat as he was sitting in front of the fire place in your shared apartment, throwing all 80 pages of the “not detailed” dissertation into the fire.

“ken’? what are you doing?”

“burning this fucking nightmare. ’m gonna drop out, fuck this shit”, he almost growled furiously. coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, leaning down to ask lowly: “you want a better way to deal with your anger?”

that’s how you found yourself bent over his lap with your panties dangling at your ankles. the spanking wasn’t new, your boyfriend being super pissed while doing so, was.

the first few slaps went as usual with you clenching around nothing and enjoying the rubs to the tender flesh shirabu hit a few seconds prior. after, it suddenly went downhill.

all at once, the soft caresses ceased to a stop, his calloused palm from years of playing volleyball coming down on your ass with full force and the copper-haired man spewing some of the most degrading stuff you’ve ever heard.

“fucking slut, getting off to this. you like it when i use you to let out my anger? i’m having a hard time while you’re just being a horny, selfish fucktoy”.

at the last sentence, you froze. did he really think you were using him? you only wanted to help, but his cold words continued. “gonna beat your ass till it’s sore and aching, you won’t be able to sit without remembering what a useless fucking girlfriend you were while i needed support.”

the logical part of your brain knew, that your boyfriend didn’t mean it. the anger got the best of him, and he just threw around accusations like he wished he could do at his asshole of a prof.

but the bigger, sensitive part of your brain convinced you that he meant every single hurtful word. you weren’t even hearing what derogatory stuff was spilling from his lips anymore, vision blurry and ears ringing from the pain you felt in your chest as well as your ass cheeks.

was this your fault? was it wrong to try and help? maybe you should’ve given him some space.

a particularly hard spank brought you back to reality, suddenly tasting the salty wetness of your tears seeping into your mouth as you cried out a loud ‘pumpkin!”, trying to push yourself out of his lap and landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ as his hands instantly let you go.

shirabu could only look at you wide-eyed when he saw how you were choking on your sobs and crawling backwards, just to get away from him.

“please don’t hit me anymore!”, were the words, that would haunt kenjirou for the rest of his life. he could feel himself tear up when it hit him what he did to you, his precious girlfriend, just because he was angry at a prof.

“baby, i- please i would never hit you like that on purpose, i- “, the male felt his throat tighten up and with a quiet sniffle he embraced you tightly, craving the warmth of your body. “forgive me, i love you so much, please don’t go.”

as you started to calm down, your arms wrapped themselves around him, wanting to be close to him as well, because no matter what, he was your biggest comfort and you still loved him.

“’m not going anywhere, kenji’. just… please don’t do that ever again”, you murmured against his temple.

“never.”

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

oooo goodness you’re an incredible writer! I love ur stories so much! I don’t want to overwhelm you sdjkflg but when ur feeling up to it do you think we can get a sentence starter like “…who wants raspberries?…” with my bb lee! Peter 3 pfff and ler! Peter 2 ? Maybe Peter 3 wanting raspberries but not wanting to admit it eheheh I think it’s be cute for the big brother to “accidentally” figure it out shjdgf

ofc if it’s too much no is always an answer! I just wanted to throw in a lil thought I had :3

have a great day/night!

(Awwwww! Okay, I had to write this because it's so cuuuute! 😭 Always pictured Peter 3 as the type to struggle to ask for certain tickles even though he really really wants them! cause honestly same Not sure if this was exactly what you wanted, but I still hope you enjoy! It was such a fun post to do Anon! Thank you!)

"Who wants raspberries?"

Peter 3's eyes widened as he darted away from his older brother. "W-what ahare you tahalking abohout?"

Peter 2 followed close behind. "You just seem like you've been in a tickly mood today."

"Wh-what ahare you tahalking abohout?"

"Oh---just making an observation."

"Ihm not!" Peter 3 protested as he continued to back away.

But no matter how far he went, he couldn't loose Peter 2.

"Come on, you've been bothering me all day." The oldest replied as he reached out with wiggling fingers. "That usually means you're ready for a visit from the tickle monster."

The taller Spiderman started giggling. "Wahait."

"Hmm . . . that giggle says otherwise."

Three squeaked and loosely crossed his arms. "N-noho . . . fihingers?"

Two smirked as he paused. "So you don't want me to use my fingers?"

The middle brother froze.

Two raised his eyebrow. "Three?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you not want me to use my fingers?"

Three's giggles continued to grow, but he still didn't answer.

Two smirked. "Do you want a different form of tickles?"

Two had never seen his brother's eyes get so wide and his face blush so quickly. But that grin made Peter 2 affectionately roll his eyes and add, "Well if you won't answer that question, maybe you'll answer my first one."

Brown eyes locked with blue. Peter 3 gulped.

"Who wants raspberries?"

When Three still didn't answer, Peter 2 took another step forward. Instead of bolting, the middle brother instantly sat on the couch.

Peter 2's smile softened. No matter how many times he agreed, no matter how many times they went through this---his younger brother still couldn't ask for tickles.

"I should give you more for being so adorable. " Two commented as he closed the distance between him and the couch. He watched as Three leaned back, trying and failing to make it seem like he was leaning away from the oldest.

"You wouldn't lean that way if you were really trying to get away," the oldest teased as he carefully pushed Peter 3 all the way down before sitting on top of his waist. "Arms please."

Three dropped his arms to his sides with a blush growing on his face.

"Now if I let you keep your hands, you have to promise not to pull my hair," Two warned as he lifted Peter 3's shirt up and out of the way. "But you're usually pretty good with that."

The middle brother nodded and grinned. Peter 2 often wondered how he ended up with two adorable younger brothers. Both Peter 1 and Peter 3 were too cute for their own good.

The oldest slowly lowered his head. "Are you ready?"

Three nodded again.

A shriek left his lips a moment later when Peter Two blew the first of many raspberries.

"You know you can always ask," Two teased between the raspberries.

But knowing Peter 3, he'd never outright ask. He'd just find his own way to tell Peter 2 when he needed a good tickling.

And Two would always happily agree.

[whiskeynwriting]

Insatiable - Chapter Eleven: Let Me Please You

Oberyn Martell x  OFC Reader "Savia"

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Word count: 10k

Warnings: lots of angst (I love it lol), dirty talk, praise kink, spitting, oral sex (m and f receiving), cockwarming, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, public sex/exhibitionism, dom! Oberyn, dark! Oberyn, use of aphrodisiacs, cum play.

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Summary: The stress of Oberyn’s new role makes you question the future, and you take pity on Ellaria when she’s sentenced. With your family now gone, what role will they play in determining the future of Dorne? 

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A/N: YES WE ARE BACK. I’m drooling. I fucking loved writing this.

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“Hm…” you giggle lightly, “Open.”

Oberyn follows your command, allowing you to slide the red, plump berry into his gorgeous mouth. The prince closes his eyes, humming contentedly at your playful mood. He suckles on it, biting the end off once you begin to pull it away. Your insides flutter as you watch your lover’s lips, eyeing the trickle of pink, watery liquid sliding down the corner of his mouth. You lean in, licking along his skin to clean him of the sticky juice. Your tongue pokes out, running up the side of his chin and flicking at the corner of his lip.

“Oh…” he exhales, gently sighing upon feeling your warm tongue gliding along his skin. “You’re an enticing little thing, aren’t you?”

The prince’s hips roll slightly upwards against your own, the rest of his body continuing to relax against the lavish furniture you’re currently sat upon. Your dress flows over him while you straddle Oberyn’s lap, the edges daring to land on the stone walkway below.

Oberyn turns, rolling his head to the side to capture your lips in a kiss, both of his hands squeezing your hips in his palms. Instantly closing your eyes, you drop the rest of the berry into the bowl sitting in your left palm, your right hand rising to cup his jaw. He throbs inside you, gasping lightly into your mouth while his gentle movements begin shifting into small, shallow thrusts. He allows for the perfect road to bliss, his long, thick shaft perfectly nestled inside your beautiful body, basking in the comfort of your heated inner walls.

It was your idea, arranging this small outing in order to ease the prince’s mind. He’d been far too tense as of late, and you could tell his body and mind were beginning to suffer. You needed to remind him of the life he has, the beautiful world you’ve created alongside him. You want to please him, to help ease the strain he feels day and night.

So, you led him here, arranging a small outing of sorts in order to spoil him to perfection. Milena brought Oberyn’s most favorable treats on a lovely silver cart, the multitude of trays holding a variety of sweets and alcoholic drinks. You’d drizzled him with sticky sweetness, licking along his tanned body while dipping your tongue into the melted chocolate sliding along his lower stomach and sides. You cleaned him of the precum then freely pouring from his tip, his erection rising rapidly upon feeling your tongue on his skin. And then, you moved, lifting yourself higher on his lap and allowing him inside your warm and welcoming walls, all while continuing to satisfy his hunger.

“My love…” you sigh, your thumb stroking his face. “You feel amazing inside…”

“You beautiful thing…” he moans out, his eyes rolling back at the near-overstimulation. “My stunning soon-to-be.”

The day is beautiful and bright, the garden blossoming prettily all around you. The multitude of flowers and trees littering the palace grounds have bloomed, the fruits of their labor stunning in their entirety. The water gardens have never looked nor smelled more ravishing. The climate was ideal for your intimate outing.

The girls are off at school, housed inside the palace’s walls with their nursemaid Gregoria. Later in the day is to be a feast, held in celebration of your unification with the Mother of Dragons herself. The day is perfect, aside from one tiny detail.  

Oberyn’s mental state has been of the utmost of importance to you, now more than ever. With the death of so many family members, the inner turmoil of dealing with Ellaria, and the responsibility as the ruler of Dorne falling to his shoulders, he was becoming overwhelmed. But you do your best to help, taking initiative in every place that you can. Due to your elaborate connections throughout the Seven Kingdoms, as well as the Martell family’s various associations, Oberyn was able to collect a handful of prestigious advisors to assist with his new obligations. But with every man gained, there was a man to be lost. The funerals have now passed, each member honored in the Dornish royal chapel. Not to say the grieving for them is over; no, sadly, it has only just begun.

But for now, Oberyn is happy, you are happy. The two of you are to be wed soon, the palace guards and security systems have been fortified, and for now, all is well.

You’re unsure of how long Oberyn’s erection has remained inside you, and neither is he. Time seems to be nonexistent in the presence of your intimacy, your own perfect world created with your lover at your side.

“Inamorata…” he moans, leaning up and pressing himself further into your kiss.

“Ethereal girl,” Oberyn suddenly grunts out, “beautiful fucking thing. A goddess amongst men – you are stunning, my love. You are amazing; my sweet girl, my most precious thing.”

His hands, once gently rubbing your hips now move to wrap fully around your waist. He tugs you toward him, pulling you impossibly close until you’re flush against his chest. Your left hand lowers, setting the bowl of fruit on a small table off to your side as his passion continues to rise. Oberyn’s grip tightens, shifting his legs as he begins fully rutting up inside you.  

You moan into his mouth, the beautiful noise echoing into Oberyn’s throat. He tastes of chocolate and berries, the ripeness of Dornish whine also mixing on his tongue. Your hands roam his shoulders, neck, and hair as you roll your hips down onto his, your nails scraping gently through the prince’s slightly graying hair.

“Oberyn,” you gasp, your body rocking with his thrusts. “O – Oberyn!”

The prince glances up at your pleasurable form, your head held back with your jaw falling open. He smirks, reach up and pressing his finger beneath your jaw. With his other hand, he reaches for another bottle wine, lifting it up to your mouth.

“Oh…” you sign out, rolling your body lazily against his as he begins pouring the ripe sweetness into your mouth.

When your lips close, a few red streams drip down your chin and fall onto your chest. Quickly, he sets the bottle down, both hands moving to cup your breasts as his tongue slides eagerly between them.

“Savia?” Ambrose then calls, searching for you through the garden’s many paths.

It’s as if you don’t even hear him.

Both of your hands massage Oberyn’s shoulders and neck, your lips parting in awe at the pleasure he brings. His one hand leaves your left tit to fumble with the fabric on your chest. You let the lavish material fall, entirely exposing your plump chest to the prince’s voracious eyes and mouth. He grunts out, moving the fabric aside and cupping your bare breasts in hand.

“Oh, gods…” you moan out, your eyes rolling up as you tilt your head back.

Oberyn’s mouth returns, flattening his tongue over your pointed nipples before sucking one inside. He moans against you, pulsating his lips around your tender flesh while he throbs inside your sex.

“Prince Oberyn?”

“Busy, busy, busy,” Oberyn grumbles against your skin. “We are busy.”

Your hands rise to the prince’s hair, the intense Dornish sun heating his dark locks. Your clean nails scrape at his scalp, curling into the soft waves as your body moves in harmony with his. The slight twinge of pain distracts Oberyn’s quickly rising temper, guiding him back to the exhilarating feeling of your body on his. Oberyn then resumes his original task, mouthing at your chest and forcing you to lean further back.  

           “Yes, yes…” you continue to moan, repeating the phrase into the open air for any and all to see and hear.

“Oh, my love,” you then giggle, cupping his face in your hands and forcing his eyeline to meet your own. “You have such a temper, don’t you?”

“Naughty girl,” he breathily responds, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. “Why do you tease me so?”

“I love to tease you, my wonderful thing.” You hum, grinning playfully above him.

Oberyn growls at your response, leaning in to sink his teeth into the skin of your neck. He sucks along your skin, biting you purple and kissing the colorful blooms he so quickly creates. You continue to roll your hips down in time with his thrusts, shoving him up further inside every time. It’s been weeks now, and your body still has trouble accommodating his girth, still has trouble managing the incredible euphoria he brings.

“My reckless Dornishman…” you continue on. “My impatient prince.”  

His head shoots up to look at you, his lips parting so he can bite down on your lower lip. Your lips curl wider upon seeing his aggressive act, his teeth releasing your lip as he gives you a nod.

“I will show you impatience.” He grumbles, shoving your forward onto his chest as he begins snapping his hips up against your ass.

“Oberyn!” you shout, closing your eyes as your body is overcome with raptured bliss. “Oberyn, yes… yes!”

The prince’s skin is hot against yours, sparking intense waves of arousal through your core. His decorated robes continue to slide open each time your bodies connect, your hardened nipples rubbing firmly over his taut chest. He drags himself along your walls, the thickness of him repeatedly stretching you wide. His tips nudges further into you with every fervent thrust, pressing forcefully against that delicate little spot that makes you go limp in his arms. One hand then slides down, gliding over the curves of your ass and nestling between your cheeks. Without warning, he forces himself inside, his digit entering until his knuckle hits your skin. You shriek into his ear, the pleasurable sting making you feel weightless above him. He pumps his finger into you, reveling in the tightness of your taut hole while he fucks himself into the other.

“Oh,” he gasps out, returning to your beautifully sculped chest and licking at your hardened peak. “Beautiful, gorgeous girl, letting me fill you so full. How does it feel, my love? My princess? How does it feel to have the prince of Dorne inside your weeping cunt? Inside your tight, beautiful backside?”  

“It feels,” you gasp out, swallowing thickly with your eyes remaining closed. Your walls pulse around him, around both his finger and throbbing cock. “Oberyn, you feel incredible; nothing else could ever compare.”  

“Oh, gods.” Ambrose suddenly groans, his small gasp stifled by the sudden jolt of his body.

Oberyn palms at your tits with his free hand, passionately grabbing and massaging them against his cheeks and mouth regardless of the knight’s sudden presence. His soft tongue runs along your skin as he moans, his erection continually leaking inside you. The act of it all feels so entirely raw and unhinged, allowing him to command your every move with the force of his hand against your ass, his finger repeatedly slipping inside. He rocks your pliant body against his sturdy form, molding his body to yours.

“I’m – I’m close,” you gasp, your brow furrowing tightly.

“Cum for me, Inamorata.” He coos, his enticing accent lacing his tone. “Cum for your prince, cum for me. Yes… only for me.”

Ambrose sighs, dipping his head down and pivoting on his heels to turn slightly away. But he stays, regardless of your brazen act. He’s now far too used to seeing this play out, but never wanted to blatantly watch. After all, you are still his sister. He also knows your promiscuous scene is soon to end, thanks to your lively vocalizations.

It’s in this moment that you cum, keening over the prince’s body and nuzzling into the curve between his flexed shoulder and neck as he demands you do so only for him. You cry out, whimpering and moaning as your hips involuntarily jut down against him, rutting over his pelvis and rocking his cock deep in your core. He holds you, a peaceful and satisfied expression forming on his face as his head rolls lazily to the side, now looking over at the aggravated knight while he caresses your deliriously blissful body.

Oberyn means to speak, means to ask why Ambrose is here, but the feeling of your fluttering cunt forces his eyes to roll back inside his head. The nape of his neck falls backward onto the armrest of the lavish settee you’re currently making love upon, his punched-out groan harsh as it hits the air. He retracts the finger he’d used to fuck your ass, sliding around to squeeze you harshly against him as he empties himself inside. You pepper his flexing neck in kisses and kitten licks, moaning pleasurably against your soon to be spouse.

A loud, long sigh drifts through the air as Ambrose begins tapping his foot impatiently. You giggle, the act of it all endlessly entertaining to your love-struck mind. Oberyn’s head rolls back toward you, welcoming the warm kiss you slot over his lips. Both of your arms wrap around Oberyn’s neck, a heavenly sigh slipping past your lips as you lean forward a bit to lay your head against his chest. Your body slumps down a bit as you do so, Oberyn’s head remaining on the armrest of the couch as it lolls to the side once again. He strokes your back, your sides, his gentle caresses loving and warm as you collectively bask in the aftershocks of the your bodies’ highs.  

Silence then fills the surrounding space, and Ambrose turns, greeting the two of you as his feet step timidly in your direction. Oberyn’s softening cock remains within you, his cum filling your channel with a liquid warmth as you relax against him. Due to your positioning on the prince’s chest, Ambrose can no longer see the curves Oberyn so frequently obsesses over, only your bare sides and arms, which will have to do for now.

“What is it, Ambrose?” you question, sighing happily before him.

He clears his throat, the vulgarity of your explicit scene now tempering off into a romantic warmth as he watches Oberyn place a gentle kiss atop your head.

“Your collective presence has been requested by Milena. She and Amabel intend to prepare you both for the night’s event.”

“Hm…” you sigh, lifting your head to rub your nose lightly with his. “Shall we?”

Oberyn returns your happy hum, one hand lifting to your face and stroking you softly with his thumb. He brings you in for a quick kiss before helping you stand, removing himself from between your legs. And of course, Ambrose turns once again. Oberyn then secures his robes while you shift your gown back into place, quickly rising to take your hand and follow Ambrose as you return to the confines of the palace walls.

The mood is different in here; your body feels stiff upon walking inside. It feels darker inside the palace walls, quieter… unfamiliar. With so many changes happening so soon, the strikingly peaceful land of Dorne has now transformed into something much more intense; it’s frightening, almost.

After your handmaidens had assessed Oberyn’s appearance, they turned to you, quickly applying your makeup and offering a clean gown. You’d each taken your time getting ready for the trial, silently agreeing to avoid the event for as long as possible. But alas, you cannot avoid the situation forever.

“My love,” you whisper, both hands clinging to Oberyn’s left arm. “Must this be decided now?”

“It must.” Oberyn responds, his face stern and vision set dead head.

His composure is entirely different now, the joyous and carefree mood he felt only moments ago now left out in the serenity of the water gardens. This is important to him, and to you. But still, you’re nervous. You’ve never done anything like this before; you aren’t sure what to expect.

You continue walking alongside him down the large corridor, making your way toward the throne room. The tension in the air weighs heavy on you both, as well as the responsibility of making this rapidly approaching verdict.

Multiple renovations had taken place over the past several weeks, one of which involving the throne room. Oberyn added a beautiful seat next to the one his brother used to claim. A seat for you. And while it was absolutely stunning, you’ve yet to have a chance to claim it yourself. And the fact that this will be your first time laying upon the lavish throne while executing this incredibly terrifying plan, well, it almost ruined the meaning of it in your mind. You wish you could’ve christened it sooner.  

The room is massive, yet it remains crowded still. Many noblemen across Dorne, as well as a multitude of reputable citizens, have come to witness the hearing. It was a shock to the entire kingdom; the Martell family murders. And done at the hand of Oberyn’s past lover, his three eldest daughters, and the heir to the Dornish throne herself. The word tragedy doesn’t even begin to describe the situation at hand.  

Oberyn’s fingers remains tight around yours as he guides you up the steps to your thrones. You haven’t addressed the individuals crowding the room, not directly. And especially not the accused. You’re unsure of how to act, so you decide to remain reserved while your lover takes lead.

“Here, my love.” Oberyn whispers, placing a gentle kiss atop your hand before gesturing toward the seat beside his own.

You smile timidly at him before turning toward the seat, the two of you sitting in unison as you now face the room. Guards have been stationed all along the walls, every inch monitored by a man in steel. Ambrose is one of them, of course, and is the closest soldier to your right. Your eyes dart over to his, nervously swallowing as he stares back. He’d been looking your way ever since you entered the room, absolutely certain you’d need his reassurance at some point throughout the event. He mouths it’s okay, and you nod, but you know it isn’t the truth.

Your attention is brought back to the present event when Oberyn clears his throat. The eyes once on Ambrose now turn toward the prince, he in his golden glory sitting on the ruling throne of Dorne. He looks so handsome like this; he looks magnificent like this. Yes, just focus on that. Focus on your betrothed, focus on him and his voice and the sweet pleasure he brings to your body and mind. Surely, this will keep you calm.

“Standing before me are the accused.” He begins, his eyes narrowing slightly at his kin. “State your names.”

Oberyn is obligated to ask such a basic question due to the court’s proceedings, needing record of the event in its entirety. Each of the women speak.

“Arianne Nymeros Martell.”

“Obara Sand.”

“Nymeria Sand.”

“Tyene Sand.”

And lastly, the woman who’s yet to make eye contact, raises her head. She stares at Oberyn, and then over at you.

“Ellaria Sand.”

You hear Oberyn’s jaw tick, the muscles in his face and neck clenching with frustration. He sighs deeply, crossing his legs and sitting back in his chair, a silent attempt to ease his discomfort. Seeing his three eldest standing before him, the woman they’ve grown to call mother to their left, and his niece to their right, is absolutely heart wrenching. Why did it have to be this way? Why did he have to make this decision?

Dornish leaders of the court continue on with the trial, bearing in mind all legality that must be stated before a verdict is determined. Oberyn hasn’t informed you of the decision he intends to make; you have no idea what he will say. And since you have not been married, there’s not much you could about it, anyway. Regardless, you’re nervous, nearly shaking in your dress. Something just doesn’t feel right.

“Do you have a verdict, my prince?” an elderly man croaks out, turning his weary head in prince Oberyn’s direction.

His eyes remain set on the women before him, the women he holds dear to his heart, the women who’ve made him the man he is today.

“I do.” He finally states, clearing his throat slightly and tiling his head in contemplation.

“For my eldest,” he begins, speaking slowly, carefully, making sure his words are set in stone and full of intent, regardless of how hard they are to say.

“For my three, eldest, daughters…” his voice is low, almost sad, but he keeps a brave face. “Obara Sand, Nymeria Sand, Tyene Sand, I deem your vicious actions upon members of House Martell unacceptable, and unforgiveable. Your status in Dorne no longer remains. Each of you are to be exiled. Immediately.”

A small breath of air is released from the crowd. Certainly, they’d face some form of punishment, but these girls were Oberyn’s pride and joy… you hadn’t expected this. Nonetheless, you remain quiet, completely silent and indifferent as the events begin to unfold. After all, two fates still await.

To your surprised, Oberyn’s daughters remain indifferent, as well. They don’t react at all to their father’s decision, that is, except for Tyene.

“How could you?!” she shouts, shoving herself forward and pulling against the restraints on her hands.

She stumbles, both arms grabbed by the surrounding guards to haul her back up to her feet. Her chest heaves with emotion, with intense shock and disgust.

“Is this what that woman has done to you?!” she spits, shooting her distressed eyes in your direction.

Though internally you are spinning, on the outside, you remain calm. You cock your head in her direction, raising your eyebrows at her wild assumption as your arrogance begins to grow. But still, you say nothing.

“Is this what that woman has done to you?” Oberyn returns, nodding toward his prior paramour. He leans forward, his anger now boiling hot. “Convinced you to murder your own family?”

Your pulse quickens at the sudden dispute taking place, worried that Oberyn may stumble into rage. The hands sitting on either side of your armrests dig their nails into the carved wood, your back sitting straighter as you do your best to maintain your composure.

“Doran was weak,” Ellaria seethes, glaring up at the prince from beneath her brow. “Trystane, Quentyn… boys. Nothing compared to men. How could we sit back and let them rule?”

“That was never your decision to make.” Oberyn retorts, his lips slimming into a stern line as he attempts to keep himself from raising his voice.  

“My Prince,” the elder then intervenes. “We must continue with the proceedings.”

Oberyn’s face relaxes a bit, leaning back in a comfortable position once more. Your heartrate begins to lower, resting further into your seat upon seeing your love’s will to remain calm.

“Arianne Nymeros Martell.” Oberyn states, clear disgust in his voice as he is unable to hold back his anger any longer. “Your punishment aligns with that of your cousins. You are barred from returning to Dorne. You will be sent to your mother.”

Arianne’s mother, Lady Mellario, lives in the Free City of Norvos. The city sits across a small sea that separates the lands of Westeros and Essos. One might see this verdict as unfair, assuming that Oberyn’s daughters received far worse. But they’d be wrong. Arianne is, was, the heir to the Dornish throne. She had an entire kingdom at her beck and call. And all at once, she’s lost it. She’s lost it all.

The princess’s tears are apparent as she weeps before her uncle, head hung low and shoulders shivering meekly. You’re surprised she’s taking her punishment this way, so quietly, almost humbly. It makes your opinion of her somewhat change, acknowledging the respect she gives her uncle even during this time of disarray.

“And, lastly?” the elder speaks once again.

“Ellaria.” Oberyn grunts, sitting upright in the throne he now claims. It makes you shiver, seeing him exude such dominance before the court. “Ellaria Sand.”

Something in his voice changes. There isn’t a single hint of sternness or even grief, it’s pure hatred, clear aversion toward the woman he’d built such a glorious life with.

“For the assassination of Doran Martell, for the calculated killing of Prince Quentyn, Prince Trystane, and Princess Myrcella, for the reckless harm you brought upon royal Dornish guards,”

He then stops, pausing to take a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Your punishment is death.”

“Oberyn!” you nearly shout, turning sharply in your chair.

For the first time ever, Oberyn glares at you, only turning his head slightly to the side. You reach out, your hand a bit shaky as it lays over his clothed forearm.

“Oberyn,” you repeat, now whispering to your lover. “Please, I don’t, I don’t think you should do this.”

“It is not your decision to make.” He returns, his voice dangerously low as he scolds you beneath his breath.

Your face runs hot, your cheeks and chest burning red with embarrassment and guilt. You retract your hand, folding both in your lap as you return to your assumed position. You then look to Ellaria, whose eyes are blown wide with fear. Her mouth hangs open slightly, brows crinkling as tears begin to fall. A ringing falls throughout the throne room, or maybe, it’s just you, just your nerves flooding your head with horrific thoughts. But when Ellaria meets your eyes, you know she feels it, too.

You begin to stutter something out, but another harsh look your way keeps you silent. You’ve never seen Oberyn like this, never seen him be so ruthless and fearsome. No, not like this.

“My prince,” the elder croaks out, hobbling over toward the stairs to approach the newest ruler of Dorne. “I implore you to rethink this decision.”

Then, he looks to you, nodding your way and urging Oberyn to do the same.

“Your soon to be speaks only from the heart. She means no ill will, regardless of her quick tongue.”

You blush again, a childish guilt digging into your very core. You know better than this. But Oberyn’s eyes soften, gazing up and down your slightly shaken form. He then straightens his stare, his gazing floating around the courtroom before landing back on her.

Ultimately, he responds with, “I will meet with my advisors.”

Again, you follow his lead, standing and descending the stairs behind him. You keep your head low, not necessarily in shame but in a show of submissiveness behind him. You shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.

Once gone, those in the court stay, arranging meetings for the prince and filing paperwork for the travels of his kin. Carefully, you continue to walk behind him, waiting for him to make the first move. You’ve never felt so on edge around Oberyn before; it makes you feel queasy and flushed, every nasty emotion in your body overtly unwelcome in this moment.

He doesn’t say a single thing, walking all the way up to your room in silence. Your small footsteps patter behind him, and when you arrive at the enormous wooden doors, he opens them, motioning for you to walk inside.

Within the privacy of your room, you’re able to take a breath. Oberyn still doesn’t speak, instead, he walks over to the chair sitting beside his desk. With a heavy sigh, he slumps down, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

You turn to look at him, advancing toward him with gentle, timid steps. When you’re standing in front of him, the hand on his face raises its palm toward you.

“Oberyn…”

“Savia.” He returns, his voice remaining stern. “Not now.”

“Oberyn,” you whisper once more, you heart never beating faster than it is in this moment. “I’m sorry.”

He sighs again, returning to his worrisome position. You swallow lightly, unsure of what to do. He’s never been this mad with you before, and you feel incredibly guilty for challenging his decision so publicly in court. It’s not what you meant to do; your emotions had overcome you. You feel incredibly foolish and immature, but suddenly, you think of something to ease his strain.

Amidst your worrisome thoughts, your eyes flicker down, assessing his posture and his slightly spread legs, similar to the position he took on the throne. He appeared so incredibly stunning sitting before the citizens of Dorne, so menacing and powerful. Your pulse quickens at the sudden thought of christening your thrones together. Slowly, you dip down, and he opens his eyes to watch you. Surely, you can earn his forgiveness.

“I had no intention of challenging you, my prince…” you speak, one hand rising to gently graze over his thigh as you sit on your knees.

Your eyes stay focused on his crotch for a moment, petting lightly at his robes before your dark orbs trail higher to meet his own. Oberyn’s harsh expression has tempered off, but remains unhappy, nonetheless. The prince’s beautifully golden chest rises and falls, taking in a deep breath as he thinks over his response, analyzing your every move.

“I respect your authority, my prince…” you hum, gasping lightly when you feel his erection begin to rise against your palm. “I love you more than life itself…”

You can see his expression change, the slight raise of his brow. And when he doesn’t respond, you speak once again.

“May I show you how remorseful I am?”

The fingers resting on the bridge of his nose slide down, his pointer finger slowly stroking the hair of his upper lip.

“You may.” He then responds, his deep tone coming straight from the depths of his chest.

Your lips immediately rise to a grin, your expression hopeful and happy as you begin his path to delight. The nimbleness of your fingers undoes his leather belt, laying it aside before folding open his robes. In all his glory, he sits there, now entirely bare and laid out for you. He remains slumped back in his chair, his own mouth mischievous in its current nature.

He’s already hard, already red and pulsing slightly at the tip. His skin is smooth and warm, the tension in his muscles flexing as he watches you begin. A quiet sigh is whimpered through your lips when you grab him in hand, seeing the first bead of precum appear at his tip. Your lips part, your tongue wetting the delicate skin as you fully gawk at the prince’s masculine form. Subconsciously, you move forward, your mouth lowering more and more. Your body tingles with excitement, your eyes darting up to meet his as you lay your tongue flat against him.

His slight groan lights a flame in your belly, watching his pre spend slide down the curves of his head and onto the wetness of your tongue. Your chest rapidly rises and falls, unable to keep your eyes away from his own as his saltiness leaks into your mouth.

Oberyn’s head tilts slightly to the side, a small smile creeping across his lips. You look so beautiful like this, so young and innocent and cute, gods, he can barely hold himself back. Seeing you on your knees for him, so willing to please him in any way you can, he swears there is no better sight. The little whimpers and sighs your throat exudes makes his heart beat with emotion, makes it beat with love.

The skin of his palms comes in contact with your face, gently cupping your cheeks as he leans forward in his seat. He stares down at you, your mouth closing slightly as he shifts you away from his cock.  

“Open,” he then quietly says, nodding down at you with his brow furrowed in concentration.

You do as you’re told, opening your mouth wide below him and sticking out your tongue. He can see the saliva already collecting in your mouth; you’re absolutely drooling for him.

He’s never been so frustrated with you; his newly acquired royal status having changed his stature a bit. He has to make the tough decisions now; he has to be the one in charge. You’ve seen him grow firmer, fiercer, his authority flushing your skin hot with arousal. But while his strict nature continued to grow, you also found his temper aimed toward you. You know he doesn’t mean to; you know he’s blinded by the overwhelming responsibility of ruling an entire empire. And besides, you’ve found many ways to release the tension swimming through his glorious body and mind. As of late, you’ve found yourself doing this quite often, begging so prettily for him and requesting he forgive you while your mouth covered his cock. He loved it, fucking loved it. Seeing you so small and submissive between his legs, fucking himself into your sloppy mouth and forcing you to gag around his girth, watching you absolutely obsess over his length and sack and every inch of skin you could find; you provided him with all the stress relief he could ever need.

You continue to keep your lips spread wide, watching as he shuffles forward a bit. He lays the thickness of his cock over your tongue, his own lips parting slightly when he watches his pre-spend drip into your mouth. The salty liquid hits your receptive buds once more, the taste prompting you to close your eyes with a soft moan. Upon seeing your reaction, he chuckles a bit, happy to see you delight in his taste. The essence between your thighs has slowly begun to drip down your sensitive skin, your core pulsating lightly at the submissiveness you exude.  

Oberyn’s hands remain on your cheeks, his steady breaths climbing with each passing second. His thumbs move inward, sliding past the edges of your lips on either side of your mouth. He applies light pressure, leaning even further over you as he stares down at your open mouth. His digits spread your lips even more than they already are, the subtle sting only serving to heighten your hazy state.

With his lips pursed, it slides out, his saliva dripping out of his mouth and onto his own cock. It rolls over his girth, sliding across your tongue and mixing with your own sloppy concoction of precum and saliva. A girlish whine escapes your throat, the act new and extremely enticing. It’s something he’s wanted to do, something he’s thought about for a while now; seeing just how compliant you really are, to see how much you worshipped every inch of his form. And you did, every time, you displayed your infatuation for the prince.

“Hm…” he hums, his frustration now entirely gone. “Again?” he inquires, his beautiful accent floating through the air.

You keep your mouth open, smiling against the pressure of his thumbs as you nod your head. His face slackens, his sex throbbing lightly in your mouth before spitting again, this time much quicker than the last.

“Suck.” He then commands, the request bringing you back to the first night you’d made love, the first time you’d ever put your mouth on him.

You happily suck him in as soon as he removes his thumbs, keeping his gaze while you work him closer to the edge. Your tongue swirls incessantly around him, your little slurping noises absolutely divine as they hit the air. And as soon as he hits the back of your throat, his fingers curl into your hair.

“Oh…” he groans, resting his head back on the chair. “Inamorata…”

Yes, gods yes. You’ll do anything to hear his praise, to hear those beautifully entrancing names he calls you every hour of every day. You’ll do anything, anything, to earn this man’s love. Not that you haven’t done so already.

Immediately, you set a pace, bobbing down on his length and sucking loudly against his girth. Your drool drips down his shaft, rolling rapidly over his balls before you lift your hand to fondle them in your palm.

The prince grunts above you, his hips pulsating upward in time with your mouth. He’s so thick like this, filling your mouth so full that you have to be conscious of your teeth. Your tongue swirls beneath him, your fingers rolling the tender flesh of his scrotum in hand. His heart nearly bursts when he hears and feels your moans as they combine with the spit-soaked sounds coming from your mouth. He makes you gag on his length, over and over again, watching as you swallow him whole and take everything he’s willing to give.

“Oh yes, you sweet, filthy thing.” He grits out, curling his fingers into your hair. “My perfect little temptress…”

Your heart beats with joyous relief, your lids rising so you can look up at him while his cock remains stuffed in your mouth. He sees you beneath him, nestled between his thighs and slurping sloppily on his groin. You then remove your mouth, the hand on his balls rising to rapidly jerk his cock while your tongue lowers to roll over his skin.

“You dirty little thing,” he chuckles out, gasping for air when you suck one of his balls inside and roll it against your tongue. “You’ll do anything for your prince, won’t you, sweet girl?”

“Mm-hm, yes,” you gasp out, nodding fervently against him. “My love, please forgive me.” You beg, continuing to move your pouty mouth over his tender skin. “I only want to please you, let me please you my prince, my viper…”

“Oh, you please me, Inamorata.” He returns, his voice expressing the exhilaration he currently feels. “You please me endlessly, my love.”  

You whimper beneath him, the lower half of your face covered by his crotch as you continue tugging at his cock, your tongue running along the skin of his scrotum and inner thighs.

“Put your mouth on me, little one.” he coos, “I want to see you swallow my cum.”

You lift yourself immediately upon hearing his words, replacing your hand with your mouth and sliding him back inside. He pulses with every ounce of blood that floods into his tip, his breaths ragged and hurried as you coax him toward his high.

“Swallow me, Inamorata. By beautiful, obedient girl.”

You murmur an incoherent mm-hm before he gushes into your mouth. His smile is evident as he releases inside you, his hips rolling graciously up against your face. His hands keep you there, holding you against his crotch while you feel his hot cum shoot inside. It’s sticky and wet, sliding down your throat in thick streams. Spit leaks down onto your chin and neck, regardless of your eager attempts to swallow. He watches you struggle to swallow the liquid gushing down your throat, the force of his release causing you to gurgle harshly around him.    

“Yes, yes…” he groans, his eyes rolling back as he leaks into your mouth.  

Oberyn’s eyes snap open, his head lowering to stare down at you in awe. His lips part widely upon seeing your own wrapped around his pulsing cock, ragged thighs slipping desperately from his chest. You continue to swallow around him, sucking lightly on his twitching cock. He jerks above you, his hands loosening their hold on your hair as he begins to come down.

His groans are deep and low, his smile prominent and smirking lazily above you. Once he’s finished, you feel him begin to soften in your mouth. You suckle lightly on the loosened skin before lifting yourself from his crotch, your spit now soaking him raw. Your tongue traces gently along his hip bones and pelvis, licking up any remnants of cum that didn’t fall into your mouth. You want to make him happy.

Almost immediately, Oberyn comes down, grabbing your chin in hand and crashing his lips to yours. He slots his mouth over your own, his tongue quickly dipping inside. Your small hands reach up, grasping onto his forearm as he hauls you up into his lap.

You rest above him, your naked sex now sitting over his spent cock as your legs fall to either side of his waist. He continues your kiss, dipping and rolling his head with fervent passion while his hands grab at your body. Your passion overcomes you, your nails beginning to dig into the skin along his jaw.

“Do you like the taste, my love?”

“You know I do.” He responds, smiling contently before you.

He finally leans back, huffing out an exhausted breath while continuing to hold you in his arms. His hands stroke you lovingly, his eyelids drooping slightly from experiencing such passionate bliss.

In truth, Oberyn really didn’t like the way you spoke out in court today. It wasn’t your place and ultimately, it made him look weak, and you foolish. He relishes in your charming wit, constantly charming him… until today. Nevertheless, he couldn’t force himself to stay mad at you even if he tried. And what better way to brush off the incident than having his cock down your throat?

On the other hand, this is new for you. Again, he’s never been so harsh toward you. But in a strange way, you kind of like it. You liked being put in your place by your more mature lover, letting him show you who makes the rules and who obeys. You like to feel cared for and safe, maybe even owned.

Another plus to the situation was being able to satisfy your unyielding need to please Oberyn in every way that you can. That is likely another reason as to why you liked this so much. He likes when you spoil him, likes when you submit and show him just how willing you are. He’d forgive you whether or not this act played out, but it didn’t hurt to follow through.

“Savia,” he coos, staring into your eyes with such love and admiration. “I want you to know that I value your thoughts, I value your opinions, and I want to hear them.”

You sit still and quiet as he speaks, sitting up on his lap in order to give him your full attention.

“But it must be discussed in private.”

“I understand.” You nod, “I just, you never told me about your decision. I didn’t know what to say, or when to say it. I didn’t know if I should discuss it at all.”

He sighs. “I know; I’m sorry. I’ve been… a bit overwhelmed.” He reluctantly admits, sighing quickly and looking down.

“I know, my love.” you respond, cooing to him sweetly and reaching up to stroke his face. “You are a marvelous man; I have full faith in your rule over Dorne.”

The stone paths laid out beneath the palace are dark and grim, leaking with cold water down the stone walls and making you shiver with nerves. Torches line the stairways and walls, and silence ensues the moment the door closes behind you. Oberyn doesn’t know you’re here; he doesn’t need to.

Slowly, you make your way down the stairs, listening to the gentle drips of dirty water as they fall from the ceiling and walls. There aren’t many prisoners in Dorne, it’s unfortunate to have new bodies accompany these rooms.

Each of them are held in a separate cell, steel bars locking them inside. You think it both empathetic and unwise to keep them in such close quarters; surely, they’ll attempt to formulate an escape. Though, they’re family, and family should be kept together.

The flame from the fire in your hands catches the attention of the imprisoned women, each of them lifting their heads and sending glares in your direction. Ellaria barely looks up, but when she does, she scowls fiercely before you. You say nothing, do nothing, except walk directly in front of her chamber.

“I suppose I should be thankful for your words.” She grumbles, staring up at you from beneath her brow.

“You should be thankful for your life.” You respond, your expression remaining indifferent and unchanged.

“Why are you here?”

You turn to address Arianne, who is clearly not doing well. Her cheeks and nose are red, her eyes are bloodshot with deep purple sacks beneath them. She’s not fit for such disorder.

“I’ve come to help.” you state, feeling a bit stiff upon hearing yourself speak those words. “To see if you need any food or drink.”

Obara suddenly spits at your feet, “You are a monster of a woman.”

“I did not kill my own kin. You have no right to judgement.”

“Why are you really here?” Ellaria questions, now perking up at bit at the continuing situation.

“I’d like to see you all one last time before you leave.” You say, then turning toward Ellaria. “Before your verdict is made.”

Without a response, you continue. “You are Oberyn’s family; you are important to him. You always will be. I intend to build a family of my own with the prince, and it is quite a shame you all will not be here to see it.”

You really do feel bad for them, for the evil that swirls in their bodies, for the heinous decisions they have made. Pity is taken upon these women in your mind; you’d like to make their last few days in Dorne bearable until they are thrown to the outside world. And maybe it’s also to make yourself feel better, an attempt at making peace with old rivals so it does not weigh on your conscience.

“You are lucky we will not be here to witness the birth of those beasts.” Tyene seethes, leaning forward and gripping the bars tightly in her hands. “We would surely kill them all.”

A twinge of rage sparks in your heart.

“If I can convince your father to not kill Ellaria, perhaps I could convince him to sway his decision on your punishment, too.”

You raise your brows slightly, stepping forward until your face is but an inch from hers.

“I wonder how long you would last in the fighting pits of Meereen.”

Tyene’s eyes grow a bit wide, her mother suddenly shouting behind you.

“Your daughters are fierce to threaten the princess of Dorne.”

“You are no princess!” Arianne shouts. “You are no royal.”

“Soon to be.” you quickly respond, flashing a bright smile her way.

“Ellaria,” you then say, returning to her bars. “You should not have returned.”

“I never left.” She mutters, “This is my home.”

“Not anymore.”

Each one of you straightens your backs, standing tall and turning to face the man now steadily approaching your scene.

“Oberyn, please.” Ellaria suddenly begs. “Please forgive me.”

His eyes briefly flicker to her before rising to yours. He’s holding a torch of his own in hand, his other reaching out for your free one to hold.

“Why are you down here, my love?” he questions, his voice sweet yet concerned.

“I wanted to make their last days in Dorne a bit more comfortable. They are your family, after all.”

“They do not deserve such pity,” he sighs, stroking your hand lovingly in his. “They do not deserve your kindness, my love.”

“I left my mother for you.” Obara suddenly speaks, her voice full of intent.

“And now,” Oberyn says, turning toward her. “You can return to her.”

Oberyn’s emotions remain absent in the presence of his kin; it almost scares you to see him so apathetic.

“My love,” his soft voice speaks. “Come. I have something to show you.”

He doesn’t address his daughters, nor his niece, nor his prior paramour. You let him lead you out of the cellars without another word, not a single sentence spoken by any of the accused.

“I hope I have not upset you.”

“Of course not.” He reassures, smiling kindly while he leads you through the halls. “Your heart is pure, little one. A rare find in this world.”

Even through this turmoil, through these changes and confusion, Oberyn’s love for you runs deep. With you by his side, he know he can execute his orders, he know he can rule Dorne with success and pride. Your presence is comforting, something he cannot bear to live without since seeing you enter the palace grounds.

With gentle steps, he leads through a multitude of corridors, eventually arriving at the destination he’s had in mind. Returning to the water gardens allows you a breath of relief, and he smiles upon seeing your tension drift away in the hot summer breeze.

“I want to build a life with you, Savia.” He says, leading you toward a lengthy in-ground pool.

On the other side of it sits a table meant for two, the same table where he offered you his most cherished tomes along with a key to the Dornish royal archives. He guides you to sit in one of the two chairs, kneeling before you once you’re comfortable in your seat.

“I want that, too.” You reply, smiling down at him with graceful adoration.

He keeps your gaze, a sincere emotion washing over his face. Oberyn’s hand then rises to take your own, his lips parting as he continues to speak.

“I have crafted this for you.” he says, reaching beneath his robes to pull out a small, brown box. “I want you to wear it, always.”

He opens the small container, revealing to you a bronzed ring. Your lips curl upon seeing the dazzling object in his hand, parting slightly in shock and excitement at the unexpected gift.

“Oberyn!” you practically squeal, staring down at the sun-shaped adornment. “It’s beautiful!”

He’s already given you a ring, the silver viper currently sitting along your slender finger. But this ring seems to have a slightly different meaning.

He smiles handsomely below you, watching your face light up with joy. Then, he looks down, taking the ring out of the box and setting the container on the table off to the side. He looks to your left hand, taking it in his before his eyes return to yours.

“The viper I have given you, resembles the vipress you have become.” He says slowly, his voice genuine as he speaks. “It resembles the claim I wish to have upon you.”

Your heart beats wildly in your chest, an overwhelming feeling of love and something even stronger flooding your veins. You inhale a deep breath to calm yourself, the emotion in your body making you tense with anxious delight.

“But this ring,” he then says, “This ring is to represent our union, the empire we will build. Your integration into the House Martell.”

“Oberyn…” you sigh out, tears daring to spill from your lids. “I love it, I love you.”

“I love you, my sweet girl. My most precious thing…” He returns, sighing softly in the warmth of your tender moment. “Will you wear it?”

“Of course, I will.” You nod, a few small tears quickly wiped away with the hand not resting in his.

The muscles in his chest and neck flex slightly, his deep breath inhaled with force as he takes in your response. He looks down to your hand, and together, you watch him place the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, sliding smoothly over your skin and sitting comfortably around your small digit.

“You have given me new purpose in life.” He whispers, glancing up at the one he loves most. “I will never leave your side.”

“Oberyn,” you coo, reaching down to cup his face. The sound of his name spoken by your soft voice is something he could never replace.

Gently, you pull him up, guiding him toward you until your lips finally meet.

“I am blessed to have found you.” you whisper into his mouth, feeling his lips move lustfully over yours.

The day has grown late, and your guests are set to arrive only moments from now. Regardless, your body floods with passion, the need to feel the prince’s skin against yours more prominent than ever. And Oberyn returns your love, just as he always does. His hands fumble with your dress, grabbing handfuls of your hips and thighs and wherever else he can reach.

“Do we have time?” you pant out, your cheeks flushing with excitement.

“We will make time,” he grunts out, sliding his hands beneath the edges of your dress and running his warm palms up your thighs.

“Oh…” you moan, your lids heavy with lust. “My prince…”

“What do you want, pretty girl?” he asks, leaning in to murmur against your lips. “Would you like my tongue, instead?”

“Please,” you suddenly huff out, both hands framing his beautiful face.

Without hesitation, he ducks his head down, flipping up the edge of your dress and nestling his face between your thighs. He isn’t surprised by your lack of garments, but it entices him, nonetheless. You lean back, shoving your hips further toward his face while your legs lift to drape over his shoulders and back. His fingertips dig into your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh in hand while his mouth begins to work over your core. His hands dip below your legs, holding them tightly in his palms just beneath the swell of your ass.

Your staggered breath can be heard from miles away, gasping out fiercely when his tongue rolls over your now throbbing clit. The palms of your hands rest over his head, still covered in the fabric of your dress. The muscles in your legs tense and flex around him, your heels digging into the muscles along his lower back.

“Yes…” you whimper out, your jaw dropping entirely at the pleasure now swimming through your veins.

Oberyn enjoys this, he always does. He wants to put his mouth on every inch of your beautiful form, every second of every day, every moment throughout every long night, he wants this; he always wants this.

The prince’s lips mouth at your pink folds, slurping slightly at the juice already dripping from the inside. Your gasps turn into wild cries as he licks inside, his nose rubbing insistently over your reddened bud. And suddenly, his hands move, flipping your dress up and holding it on your stomach so you can see.

“Look,” he grunts out. “Look at me, Inamorata.”

And you do, your droopy lids glancing down at the man between your legs. You whimper helplessly when you meet his lust-filled orbs, so deep and warm as his tongue licks into you. You watch as he dips his tongue inside your cunt, the warm wetness of it sliding delicately along your fleshy, inner skin. He stares at you, moaning hotly against your naked sex while he fucks you with his tongue.

“Oh, Oberyn…” you cry out, arching into his touch when his tongue is replaced with two of thick fingers.

He plunges them inside you, moving to suck on your clit and roll his tongue over the hooded nerves. His fingers scissor into you, the thickness of them hitting every delicate place inside, every tender spot that needs to be touched most. He can feel you pulsate around them, squeezing his fingers tight as your heartrate quickens above him. Oberyn’s left hand slides up, landing on your own and intertwining your fingers with his. It’s a loving gesture, an act of intimacy as he pleasures you with his fervent mouth and tongue.

The prince moves quickly, his head rolling from side to side as his heavy grunts fan out over your worn core. He can’t help himself; he’d do anything for this. He’d kill men for this, has killed men for this.

“Oh, my love,” he deeply sighs, “Can you hear it? Can you hear your wet cunt?”

“Mm…” you whine out, gasping for air. “Yes, yes.”

He hums hungrily at your response, shoving his face back between your thighs and rolling his tongue over your folds. His mouth sucks on your tender flesh as shockwaves shoot through your core.

“O – Oberyn!” you cry, curling your fingers into his long, brown hair. “I love it, I love it…”

“Mm…” he purrs, the vibrations rubbing beautifully across your skin.

He feels the wetness of your sex rub along his face, washing his cheeks and mouth in your slick. His sloppy licks grow wetter with every passing second, his fingers punching their way inside your slick channel over and over again. The force of it rocks your body above him, your legs tightening around his shoulders and bringing him impossibly close. You keep him there, keep his face shoved against your sex as you start rolling your hips against him.

The sound your actions provoke in him is almost animalistic in nature. His fingers continue to squeeze yours, the hand beneath your thigh rising to cup you in hand. He squeezes your ass in his large, calloused palm, guiding your hips to roll more fervently against his face. Oberyn slurps and sucks as if you were made by the gods, your taste so divine he wears it makes him drunk.

“You delicious thing,” he pants. “My beautiful, gorgeous girl.”

Prince Oberyn’s fingers curl inside you, stopping their forceful motions to now punch up against your tender flesh. He knows you’re helpless to this, he knows how to make your body fall limp. And you do. Your body and mind are now elsewhere as you feel weightless above him, suddenly overcome with bliss.

Kitten licks are placed along your throbbing bud, his hand leaving yours to lift the hood in order to access your overly-sensitive nerves directly. Your cries are girlish in nature, whining and moaning above him as he overstimulates your incredibly captivating body. Every flick of his tongue jerks your hips toward his face, his moans ceaseless against you as he guides you towards your high.

“Cum on my face, my beautiful thing.” He begs, his voice now raspy and desperate. “Cum on my face so you can lick me clean.”

With an intense shriek, you cum, his words offering that extra nudge that finally shoves you over the edge. He purrs contentedly against you, suckling on your clit while your essence washes over his skin. His fingers continue to rub your inner walls, sliding along your fleshy channel while his tongue licks your outer folds clean.

He then removes his ringers, and all at once, you drop forward, falling onto his lap and capturing his mouth with your own. It’s a heated kiss, but its duration is short. You remove yourself from him, your tongue immediately finding his jaw and licking the wetness off his skin. He holds your body against him while you clean him of your slick, both of his hands tightening around your waist while you straddle his lap. He remains on his knees, resting back on his heels while he lets you worship his marvelous mouth and skin. His large palms run up and down your back, over your sides and the curves of your ass.

“Tell me how it tastes.” He insists, turning his head to look into your eyes.

You lick your lips, reaching for his hand and lifting it to your face. He watches you suck both digits inside, his handsome face expressing the pure bliss he feels in this moment. You continue to stare into his eyes, into the soul of the one you know to be true. He moves them along your tongue, rubbing down against the wet muscle while he repeatedly presses them back inside. When you finally release them from your mouth, you offer them to him. With an open-mouthed smirk, his tongue pokes out, running along the length of his fingers and hand. And then, you answer him.

“Absolutely divine.”

Detailed Chapter Summary

Oberyn’s new role as the ruler of Dorne brings a heavy weight to his shoulders, but you do everything you can to aid him while also putting him at ease.

The sentencing for Ellaria, their three eldest daughters, and the princess Arianne, commences. Oberyn sentences them to death, but your pleading with the prince earns them a lesser sentence.

Unbeknownst to Oberyn, you visit Ellaria and her daughters in their cells. You take pity on them, offering them kindness. But Oberyn catches you in the dungeons, claiming they don’t deserve your care. 

Chapter Twelve: Let Me Avenge You

Insatiable Taglist: @pascalslittlebrat @serenaisavillain @yourwonderbelle @mishasminion360

General Taglist: @anaaaispunk @dihra-vesa @sweetangel10069 @coaaster @pepascalhoe @evyiione @bport76 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @mswarriorbabe80​

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻.

𝕋 𝕒 𝕜 𝕒 𝕞 𝕚  𝕂 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕠  |  ℍ 𝕒 𝕨 𝕜 𝕤

     ⇴ male reader      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ request: Can you write a story where pregnant hawks goes into labor and gives birth? I just wanna know the whole process for him and what he would be feeling

↣ rating: mature ↣ warnings: male pregnancy, c-section surgery

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“[Your.last.name]-san, we really need to prepare-“

“Just 5 more minutes! Pleas-“, though being interrupted by another contraction made it hard to talk.

His legs and arms were shaking as he was leaning against the bed, trying to breath like he was taught to. Hawks’ wings losing small fluffy, red feathers all over the hospital floor with how nervous and in pain he was.

“He’ll be here soon… Just a little…”

And even though the nurse didn’t look too happy and rather concerned, she nodded again and left the room. She could give him a little bit more time, but not much…

Grabbing the phone, Hawks called you again, yet, once again, you didn’t pick up. With a whine, he threw the phone back onto the bed. Beads of sweat trickling over his forehead and dropping onto the sheets as another contraction made him wince and quietly whimper.

God, he was going to kill you if you wouldn’t come here soon!

Though, before he could throw even more curse words at you, the door opened and a familiar face made his heart jump. Just like that, he broke down with a sob. It was unusual for Keigo to cry, but seeing you finally here was just too much. The situation was so overwhelming. He was about to get surgery to meet your new baby and then-

But, as you rushed to his side and hugged him, he just snuggled into you. Everything already forgotten as he melted into your arms.

“It took too long!”, he whined and sobbed, another contraction making him wince.

“I know, I’m sorry, Baby. But I’m here now. I’m here.”, you reassured him, before finally calling the nurse once more.

It was time to deliver your baby girl.

-

Watching as you stayed back as he rolled into the OR was hard. But Keigo knew it was only for a few minutes before he was going to see you again. With a little bit of help from a nurse, he stood up from the bed and sat down onto the operating table.

Sitting there hunched over, he hugged a pillow as a nurse held his shoulders. Another nurse softly, but firmly, pushed his wings to the side. A small hiss escaped his throat as they started the lidocaine shots. Four altogether. They were pretty painful, even though he was used to getting beat up as a hero, it still stung and burned. Like that, Keigo had to breathe through it, not even able to react to any of the attempts the nurse made to try and distract him from the pain by trying some small talk.

Thankfully, he did not feel the spinal block anymore due to the lidocaine kicking in almost immediately. At that point though, everything happened so fast as he had to bring his legs up onto the operating table before he completely lost any feeling whatsoever in them because of the spinal anesthesia.

With a pillow under his head and soft blankets to keep him warm, as well as his wings being tucked away comfortably, he laid there for a few minutes until he got his catheter. And then, once that was over, they put the sterile curtain up and he finally saw you again.

As you sat down besides Hawks’ head with the appropriate attire to be in the operating room, he immediately searched for your hand, hence you took and squeezed it gently.

“You okay, Shortcake?”, you kissed the back of his hand.

He just nodded while looking around the sterile room once again. The bright lights and stark walls were a little daunting. And even though he wasn’t cold or that scared, just nervous and intimidated, Hawks couldn’t stop shaking.

Though, thankfully, the anesthesiologist calmed both of your minds when they said it was a side effect from the anesthesia. So, you just squeezed his hand more and kissed his little fingers over and over again.

“I love, Baby, you’re amazing.”, reaching out your other hand, you softly wiped a wet strand of hair from his forehead.

“You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you, Kei.”

And then, with one last check of his name and birthday, they started. Immediately, Hawks felt tugging and pulling and a lot of pressure. Nothing the anesthesiologist hadn’t told him beforehand, but it was still a weird feeling. As if random people were grabbing his baby bump and just pulling it side to side. Not painful, but very strange nonetheless.

“You’re so amazing, Shortcake. We will meet our little baby girl soon. I’m so excited.”

A crooked, but genuine smile appeared as he sniffled and nodded lightly.

“Me too.”

He was so grateful that you were there. Kei knew he couldn’t have done it without you, even if they probably would have forced him in the end if you wouldn’t have made it in time. But now he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. You were there, holding his hand and being with him while something amazing and almost… surreal was going on down there. Like shit… You were going to meet your little chicken nugget in a few minutes!

The anesthesiologist checked in here and there, making sure Hawks was still doing fine. Which, thankfully, he was. He didn’t feel any pain, just lots of pressure. And his nerves had calmed down to a point where he didn’t feel sick anymore.

“Okay, Baby’s coming out now!”, the doctor in charge suddenly said, hence you squeezed his hand a little tighter.

With just that sentence alone Hawks’ nervousness peaked once again. His emotions all over the place once more. He took a deep breath and grabbed your hand really hard. Though all he could feel was the pressure and before he could really realize what was happening, they lifted your baby up into the air. That’s when you could both see her for the first time. Immediately, he had to swallow his sob as he watched his little girl.

One glance to you was also enough to make him want to cry out of happiness. Your own eyes were glazed as you tried to hold back tears, while a big, happy smile appeared on your face.

“[Your.name]…”, Keigo barely sniffled your name.

“You did amazing, Baby. So amazing.”, you both looked to the side to the small table as they got some fluids out of her lungs and stomach, nothing serious thankfully, just to double-check. The crying of her making his heart ache, because all he wanted to do was grab her and love her already.

Fortunately, the table was only a few meters away, hence he could watch them all the time as they cleaned and weighed your baby. And after just a few minutes, a nurse brought the swaddled girl over and that’s when he could finally hold her for the first time.

That certainly was the most magical moment. With you by his side, the baby on his chest, it was intimate and beautiful.

“Well, she is just as tiny as her Daddy, huh?”, you chuckled and kissed his forehead while softly caressing her small cheek.

Hawks could just nod and smile, before he looked up and whispered “I love you.” with tears in his eyes.

“I love you, too.”, you mumbled back and pecked his lips.

Even though he didn’t want to let go, a nurse gently pulled you away from him together with your little girl.

“Everything will be over soon.”, you reassured him one last time, before you walked out and into the hospital room he had been assigned to.

And while you had your little one-on-one moment with your baby, Hawks was nervously waiting for it to end as they closed his wound and got him situated again.

It took almost 40 minutes where he was alone in the operating room and just craving to be by your side and hold his baby, that he couldn’t help but cry in the middle of it. All of this was a very emotional experience. It was an emotional rollercoaster, really.

Though, when he was laying naked and vulnerable on the hospital bed again, as they had stripped him of the hospital gown completely, he finally came out of the operating room and into his assigned room. Covered in warm blankets to keep his small, yet so incredibly strong body warm. His mood instantly better when he saw you sitting on a chair and holding your baby girl.

You stood up immediately and walked over once he was ready and the nurses left you alone for just a few moments. Softly placing the little one onto his naked chest, Hawks held her again in a tight, yet gentle grip, as if he never wanted to let go again.

He was groggy, but so happy. The selfie you took showed you both beaming with happiness. A photo you would forever treasure.

“She is beautiful.”

“She is. Our sweet little Ava.”, you whispered back and kissed his forehead.

“You are really… the most amazing man I know, Kei. I love you so much.”

And as he grinned from ear to ear with how happy he was, his golden eyes filled with tears and shimmered as he whispered those love-filled words back. So incredibly thankful that everything turned out alright and he could hold Ava in his arms and have you by his side now.

He knew it would get tough from here on out. Not only because he had to recover from this big surgery, which meant you had to take care of Ava almost alone in the first few weeks, (which was pretty hard for him, because he wasn’t someone to just lay down and let everyone serve him), but also because family life was going to be so new. Yet, he was also excited. To experience this with you, because he could have not wanted any other man by his side right now, than you.

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: this request came in like two days ago? and yeah like i said, i saw it and knew i had to write it! i loved it! such an intimate moment with our birb boy is just lovely, no? 💌 and i have lots of fun finding names for the baby that have something to do with birds or flying or something lmao

[terichii]

Stalking | Haitani

Warnings: clumsy english text, typos

Can I just write something before I see these beautiful boys in the new episode?

Ran

You knew for sure that you had already seen this guy. By a stupid accident, one day he helped you collect your things that were scattered all over the street. Since then, he surprisingly often began to catch your eye. You noticed him on the way to and from work when you went to the store or just walked around the city. Sometimes he was passing by you and smile, which was confusing, but sometimes you noticed how he was watching from afar. In the end, it was like being paranoid. It seemed that you were about to see these two braids that callused your eyes, sitting on the sofa in your living room.

And you've come to terms with it. Almost. Until something happened.

"You've been finishing up pretty late lately."

"Eh?...",- the familiar voice sent shivers down your spine. You froze, unable to move. But you didn't want to turn your head because you probably knew it was him. Now it was just like a terrible dream that did not want to let you go.

"Do you need a ride?"

Swallowing, you turned around. Yes, it was him. That creepy guy with those stupid braids that you hated. Leaning on the steering wheel of the bike and propping his chin on his hand, he looked at you with a narrowed eye and a grin.

"Uh...n-no, thank you, I'm not far here...", - but you're lying and it seems that he understands this. The time was really late, and you live far away. But right now you were thinking about how to escape from him. You walked further along the street, periodically glancing at him and speeding up your pace. If you had the opportunity, you would have run with all your might now, but you knew that this opportunity was not there. You definitely can't overtake a bike.

The guy caught up with you, looking right into your face, the grin became even wider when he realized what was going on, it seemed that he felt you too well, - "Are you afraid of me?"

"What?? Of course not", - the words, full of indignation, literally burst out of you. No, you weren't afraid of him, you were already sick of seeing him. Isn't that right? Right? ...

From your harsh words, he looked thoughtfully somewhere up into the night sky, before turning back to you, - "That's how...but…"

But you're already gone.

Pausing in mid-sentence, Ran began to look around, peering into the depths of the dark streets. He pursed his lips when he realized where you went – to a remote alley. The place is not the safest.

Your rapid footsteps echoed hollowly from the concrete walls of the narrow alleys. Hoping to take a shortcut and get out of here as soon as possible, you wound through unfamiliar courtyards until you once again came to a dead end.

"Damn",- your thoughts began to get confused again, a tight lump rose somewhere in your throat, you felt panic. If you go back, he will be there. But you're tired of looking for a way out.

"Hey, baby, are you lost?"

Lost in your thoughts, you did not notice how three criminal-looking guys turned out to be nearby. One of them came up to you with an imposing gait, unceremoniously grabbing you by the waist, the disgusting type pulled you closer to him.

"Why are you so tense, relax, we can help you with this, right, guys?", - the guy looked at his friends and laughed, they also took up his initiative.

Unpleasant laughter causes a headache, for a second you thought that you could just give up, that this is not happening to you and it has gone too far.

"Take your hands off!!", - pushing him away from you with a sharp jerk, you jumped back a couple of steps.

The guy staggered, but stood on his feet, although an unpleasant aching pain spread over his chest, which caused his cheerful mood to instantly evaporate, giving way to anger, - "Catch this bitch."

After these words, you immediately slipped back into the narrow alley along which you came, when the others ran after you. Out of the corner of your ear, you heard threats flying after you. You ran, running out of strength until you found an even narrower alley with containers behind which you could hide.

Footsteps and voices echoed past your shelter, sweat broke out on your face, and your legs were buzzing because of the heavy load, but you were still sitting stiffly on the cold, dirty asphalt, unable to move and breathe calmly.

But the panic again covered you when the steps were approaching in your direction, and the shadow fell on the wall of the building opposite. But you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the tall figure of a guy you already know. It seems that for the first time you were happy to see him.

"Are you okay?", - an excited expression appeared on his face as he looked you up and down and held out his hand to help you up.

"Yes, I was just a little scared...", - you accepted the help and got up on your numb legs, brushing off your clothes from the dirt, - "Thank you for...oh...you have blood on your cheek", - you didn't understand why you were worried about him, seeing only a small scratch on his face, but...from this angle, you noted that your pursuer was very cute, which made your cheeks turn pink.

"Hmm?", - passing his hand over his cheek, he looked at his fingers, which really had smeared blood on them, but..- "It's not mine", - the guy smiled gently, which caused you confusion, but you were calm.

"Do you see how many problems there are just because you didn't agree to my offer?", - a light chuckle eased the tension between the two of you as he held out his hand to you again, - "So can I give you a ride?"

Confused, even more, you looked uncertainly into his eyes and, not seeing the danger, carefully put your hand in his, - "I think...yes."

Rindou

"I think it's starting to rain...", - a familiar voice drawled thoughtfully to your's right, while you were standing at the intersection and was waiting for the green light.

From surprise, you turned around and shuddered – in the crowd of people waiting for the signal, there was him - a guy with blond hair and a very ordinary sharp face. The purple eyes shine a little, brazenly looking at your's face. Without turning around, he opens his umbrella right at the moment when the first thunderclap sounds somewhere in the distance.

"Aren't you afraid of getting wet?", - It became obvious that this guy was talking to you, taking a light step past those standing around.

"No", - you whisper, taking a step back.

Suddenly, a beep is heard behind him. The cars on the road freeze, and the flow of people rushes forward, carrying you away. Your thoughts were confused as your legs desperately carried you somewhere ahead. You had already passed the crossing, but something made you turn around. Your heart stopped for a moment, then began to pound wildly – you saw him among the huge mass of heads. His blond, disheveled hair shone like the sun from under a black umbrella. It seems that he also noticed you – a friendly smile appeared on his face. Lifting his umbrella, he waved vigorously at you with his free hand.

This innocent gesture caused a wave of icy goosebumps to run down your back, and you hurried to escape from a crowded place to some courtyards.

You ran for a long time, ragged breath coming out of your mouth until the strength left you, and you stopped. You needed to catch your breath. The rain was beating harder and harder on your head. Your hair and clothes were soaked through

"You'll catch a cold if you keep running like this," - he suddenly heard very close to your ear.

You jumped on the spot and turned around. It's him again! And how does he manage to catch up with you, while maintaining an absolutely calm appearance?..

The guy came closer, taking advantage of your confusion. He held out his hand. Cold…

His angular hand slid onto your forearm and, moving up, pulled uncomfortably on your wet sleeve.

"What do you want from me?...", - you whispered very softly. Your voice was hoarse, frightened. You were shaking all over.

A real hurricane of thoughts was spinning in your head. The first meeting was on a clear evening, a sweet, promising conversation. When did everything go wrong? Now he was following your constantly. At first, he seemed unobtrusive and courteous – he met you, accompany you through dangerous streets to the house. But...after one of the meetings, everything changed. Or not?

"I just want to walk you home", - as always, he smiled warmly with his simple smile, as if he did not understand how creepy he looks now, in their "accidental" meeting. - "Yes, and this rain is so not at the right time. And I see you don't take an umbrella…"

"Fuck off already!", - you screamed and started running again, leaving the frightening interlocutor in slight confusion.

The rain was falling harder and harder, blurring the view with a solid wall. Where did you run to? You didn't care anymore. A straight section, a turn, another turn, a wide street that you run diagonally, ignoring the indignant shouts in the back. The lights of the signs and windows dance around you. Everything merges into a strange nightmare, where bright colors are just decorations. Your heart continues to pound wildly, the noise of blood in your ears is deafening.

That's when you bump into someone's thick carcass. An elastic blow throws you to the wet asphalt. Your hands are burning with pain, and you finally come to your senses.

You were now sitting in some dark alley, where neither lonely windows nor the black doors of various eateries do not go out.

A moment of confusion.

"S-sorry", - you rise, leaning on a skinned palm. It stings. – "I just…"

"Are you lost, beautiful?" - A high-pitched adult voice was heard.

You lookup. In front of you is a heavy man significantly exceeding you in height. He chuckles slightly as he looks at you. And now he was reaching out to you

"Let me examine your hands...", - a hard grip shackles your right wrist, pulls forward.

You are overwhelmed by panic, you can't resist it, are absolutely tired. From despair and pain, you began to howl softly.

"Well, well", - the man encouraged you, smiling maliciously, continuing to pull you to him. – "There's nothing terrible here, dear, now I'll help you get rid of the pain…"

The other hand was also close to your body. It seemed that something irreparable was about to happen.

"Don't...please let me go!", - you whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut in a fit of hopelessness.

And then something happened.

You opened one eye, unable to restrain a strange curiosity. The man let go of your hand, and all his attention was now focused on the guy standing almost between them. With one hand he continued to squeeze the umbrella, the water from which was just trickling down the rough man's neck, and with the other, he was squeezing his fat wrist.

"I think they told you to let go," - he said seriously, looking straight into the small, surprising beady eyes.

"What?", - that's all the boar said, after which he tried to crush the stranger with his mass, stepping forward.

What happened next, you remembered vaguely. More precisely, you just didn't have time to remember exactly what happened. The guy only smiled rapaciously at the fat man's movement, after which he made several blows so fast that you simply did not catch them all. Just sharp shadows under the light of a lone lantern suddenly crashed into a thick carcass. The pig didn't even say anything, just fell back, collapsing on the garbage bags against the wall.

Realizing that it was all over, you turned her gaze to your pursuer and were amazed. He stood there, absolutely calm, smiling affably and holding out his hand to her.

"It's dangerous to go home alone. Can I walk you out?"

A lump rose in your throat, but you immediately overcame herself and took the stranger by the hand. - "Yes, I think I should agree"

You smiled sweetly back at him, then obediently stood under a wide umbrella, and together you moved to the exit of the alley.

[pure-kirarin]

Red hair Shanks seducing you

Thanks a lot my dear. I loved writing these. Worry not. I am here to serve ! This is my first time writing for Shanks, I hope that I got him right. 

When Shanks wants you, he would tap his thigh gently while gazing at you, inviting you to sit on his lap. He would delicately move your hair away from your neck and nuzzle against your skin. You could feel the gentle brush of his beard, tickling slightly. His hand would rest on your waist, that area that is so ticklish and sensitive. These gentle moves are simple, yet so seductive.

« So, how was your day ? » he would smoothly ask with his usual gentle voice, with the softness of a sea wave. He wouldn't want to make it so obvious either, he would prefer to have some normal and casual talk with you first.

Being so close to him in that simple yet so intimate position would definitely make you feel something down there. He would also listen to you talk as he leaves butterfly kisses all along your neck. « Shanks, what's the matter ? » you would say with a giggle, his hand now caressing your side and making you slightly ticklish.

Another strategy of his would be to grab your butt, with any excuse really ; « Oh wow, it has gotten bigger », he would say, making you instantly blush, repressing a little hum.

He would run his finger in your hair while looking you in the eyes. Simple. Efficient. Works every time.

The redhead would also most likely bite your ear gently « Oh, I want to eat you so badly ». How could he say such things with a light hearted voice ? It must be a sin. He has a strong sexual aura, making him able to turn the most innocent of sentences into sinful flirting.

« Y/N », yes, he would just call you by your name whenever he is in that mood. Usually he gives you silly nicknames, but at some times he just says your name in that way that is so peculiar to him.

Finally, on a lighter note, when he feels like it, he would randomly lift you up and put you over his shoulder while you're in the middle of a conversation ; « Sorry, I'm borrowing her for now ! » he would say with a smile, making anyone you were talking to extremely confused.

[os-hyoideum]

"I have come to a coclusion." Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!plus size!Reader

"i figured out why you're so into me… it's because wherever you grab it feels like a boob" (my inspo, in the form of my stupid thought - I wanted to do a few more of my fav characters, but we'll see)

Word count: 1263 Content: Pro!Shinsou (over 18), fluff (I think), funny (I hope), slighly just suggestive at the end (letting out a perv a bit, but just teensy bit), plus size/chubby/fat Reader, Reader has nipple piercings (I just think everyone -who wants them ofc- deserves them), Reader has big? (heavy) boobies

a/n: Like I'm never inspired to write, this time I just did (and had fun, surprisingly... it's that Shiso brainrot 😔). This is literally THE SECOND time I have ever written something (that isn't an academic essay) in English. Also, THE FIRST time using the second person in writing, but I wanted to try. It's just some quick fic, so enjoy! Also, sorry for, perhaps, a weird use of commas, I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to put them correctly everywhere.

Hitoshi let out a relieved sigh once he stepped over the threshold to your shared apartment.

It wasn’t anything particularly special, with its open space kitchen-living room combo, bathroom, and decently sized bedroom, but it was a home that brought him comfort after hard days (or nights) of work. Particularly, when it was an unexpected task of giving the talk to aspiring heroes at his former high school - UA.

It was a bit weird for him to get home during late afternoon, as his usual night patrols made him used to getting back at rather early morning hours, but still, he was just glad to be finally in the comfort of his own place.

After taking his shoes off and walking a bit more inside, he was met with a sight to behold (by his own requirements).

There, laying face down on a couch was you, clothed only in a pair of black panties and a sports bra. Electric fan, standing on a side table, was blowing straight onto your exposed back. Hitoshi supposed it wasn’t anything particularly strange, given it was the middle of summer and, additionally, you must have been tired from your work trip; nevertheless, he decided to ask.

“Well, hello there,” he started, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow, “That’s a nice view of your ass, but why are you basically naked?”

You propped yourself on your elbows and turned your head back to look at him. The breeze from the fan stung your eyes a bit, so you sat up straight and faced Hitoshi properly. Partly, to just be able to admire him (like usual) and, partly, so the breeze would still be directed towards your back.

“First of all: it’s hot as hell today. I have never been more grateful for our AC… that still was not enough, but well…” You listed lifting one finger up.

“Okay, fair.” Hitoshi nodded. He looked at you lifting another finger.

“Second of all: I had a little, hmm… mirror sesh? I guess it could be called like that.”

Hitoshi knew exactly what you meant and instantly was put on alert. He did not know what to expect from the outcome. You weren’t particularly insecure, but drops in confidence happen to everyone, at the best of times. Having a truce with your body didn’t mean an endless peace.

He looked at you with intensity, looking for any indicators of feeling low, but relaxed a bit seeing you being at least in a neutral, if not even good, mood.

“Oh? Is that so?”

You stood up, the slight jiggle of your soft body not concealed by anything. He had seen you bare many times before (like, a lot of times), but still caught himself admiring the patterns your stretch marks drew upon your skin. He knew it’s not anything special, quite the natural part of the human body, yet he still saw some intricate artistic thought behind it.

“Yes,” you said, putting one hand on your hip and gesticulating with the other, “and you know how I, personally, feel about myself. Like, sometimes it’s good, sometimes bad, nothing new, right?” You asked rather rhetorically, to which Hitoshi still nodded slightly, listening from behind a bar piece separating your kitchen and living space.

“BUT,” you emphasized and pointed a finger at him,” today I was wondering in particular, why YOU like THIS-” you paused to encircle your body with one hand “-so much. And I have come to a conclusion”

Hitoshi hummed and took a sip of iced coffee he took from the fridge in the meantime.

“Yeah? And what’s your conclusion then?”

“You are so attracted to me because everywhere you touch feels like a boob.”

That was an unexpected sentence that left your lips; so unexpected actually, that Hitoshi almost choked on his coffee. Luckily though, he did not. Not paying much attention to your could-have-died significant other, you continued with your reasonings.

“Arm? Boob.” You squeezed your upper arm to emphasize. “Tummy?” A little squeeze creating a roll between your fingers. “Boob.” You propped your leg on the couch to poke at your inner thigh. “Thigh? Boob. Calf? Boob. See? Everything’s a boobie!”

Hitoshi just laughed looking at your excited expression, he assumed from coming to such boob-tastic revelation. He fixed his black headband, keeping his beautiful hair out of his face, and pointed at your leg.

“Well, I don’t remember your boobs being quite so hairy. Though my memory might be failing, after all this time.” He said with a chuckle, hinting at your two weeks of separation, due to your dreadful trip.

“How DARE you!” You gasped dramatically and threw a pillow that Hitoshi expertly caught with a laugh. “Are you shaming my body hair?”

“Oh, of course not,” he smirked playfully, “I quite like your hairy legs.”

With a slightly frustrated groan, you fell on the couch and loudly sighing slid off onto the floor. Sitting behind your low coffee table, you tilted your head down and glared at Hitoshi from under your eyebrows. He knew someone could have gotten scared had they been on the receiving end, but spending so much time with you, he was used to it and just found it amusing. Seeing the lack of reaction from him, you just stood up and walked towards the bar to stand in front of him.

“If you don’t stop, I WILL sit on you.”

Hitoshi quirked an eyebrow at you and turned around. He took a step towards the kitchen sink and, after turning the water on, splashed his face.

“What are you doing?” You asked, not quite expecting him to start washing his face in the middle of a conversation.

After taking a small, clean kitchen towel to dry himself off, he looked you straight in the eye.

“Prepping your seat, baby.”

You stared at him for a few seconds with wide eyes, before slowly clapping and nodding with approval.

“Huh… outstanding move. True dedication to a joke.”

“I wasn’t joking.” But you already knew that.

“Damn…” You started, holding his intense gaze. “Okay, Mr Shinsou, you’re on.”

He looked you up and down with an expression of a man starved.

“You’re in for a ride…” But you already knew that too. “Mrs Shinsou.”

“I’m not Mrs Shinsou.”

“Not yet.” You knew it was mostly playful banter since neither of you was in a rush to make your relationship official. It was comfortable enough, to the point actually, that others did mistake you for a married couple at times. So it turned into a joke, being called by his name.

“Alright…” You smiled softly at him before your expression became much more devious. “Wanna take a shower before I take my rightful place upon my throne?”

Without waiting for his response, you pulled your sports bra over your head. In an instant, Hitoshi’s gaze fell onto your heavy chest. Decorated with shining metal nipples perked up, due to the slight chill from the AC and the fan, both working at full capacity. You turned around and walked towards the bathroom with a nice sway in your hips. In the doorway, you slid your panties off and threw them at Hitoshi with a heated look from behind your shoulder.

He caught them with one hand and, looking you straight in the eyes, brought them to his face. He took a long breath in, taking in your scent mixed with sweat that almost made him dizzy with desire.

He put his cup into the sink and, with your panties in hand, followed you into the bathroom.

[band--psycho]

Remus Lupin x Reader-Treat You Better

Requested by my dear friend @xacatalepsyx​, I hope you all enjoy this! 💛 // Inspired by Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes(Flashback in italics)

Prompt List Requests / 1.3k Writing Celebration Masterlist / Marauder Era Masterlist / Music Writing Challenge Masterlist

Third Person POV

“Is Y/n/n not coming?” Remus asked as he met up with Lily, Marlene and the marauders. 

“Probably not,” Lily said in a somber tone, her eyes glancing over to Marlene, sharing a knowing look, one that Remus quickly picked up on.  

“Again?” Remus asked, a mixture of sadness and anger lacing his voice. 

“You can’t be surprised, Moony,” Sirius said, placing a comforting hand on his friends shoulder.

“He’s always been a dick, mate, I don’t know why she gave him another chance in the first place,”James added with a sigh. 

“Because..it’s Y/n/n...she’s constantly giving people more chances than they deserve, remember Eric?” Marlene said, earning an audible sigh from the people around her as well as a few eye rolls. Eric was one of the worst boyfriends Y/n/n had ever had; he cheated on her countless times, lied to her countless times, controlled and belittled her constantly. The only reason that relationship ended was because Lily, Marlene and the rest of the marauders got involved, it was like staging an intervention. Since then Y/n/n had had a few boyfriends but they all left as quickly as they came, leaving her feeling unlovable. 

“I’ll go check on her,” Remus said, bidding his friends goodbye before bolting up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. 

Y/n never had much luck when it came to love, she had a big caring heart, no one could deny that, but she often gave it away to the wrong people. People that didn’t treasure it the way her heart and the love that came with it should’ve been treasured. Many of them would use her for what they wanted, say all the right things...make her fall for them and then drop them when they got what they wanted. Or they’d cheat on her and then come crawling back begging for a second chance which she would give them, despite the warnings she would get from her friends, Y/n/n/ would constantly say the same thing ‘he’s changed, he’s promised he’s going to change,’ of course, these words were not true and within the space of a week she’d be found in her dorm room heartbroken because she’d been let down again. Her best  friends, Lily and Marlene would constantly try to warn her away from guys like this, even the marauders got involved, hating to see her hurt constantly by people that didn't deserve her, but it didn’t hurt anyone as much as it hurt Remus. The light brown haired marauder had liked Y/n/n for years, but he refused to say anything, no matter how many times the other marauders tried to persuade him to. He was the closest to her out of the marauders, they would spend hours talking in the library or in the common room, talking about everything and anything. They were great friends to start with and then Remus’ feelings began to change...he started to fall for her, not that he admitted to anyone (including himself) until one night in the library. 

~~~~~~~

It had been a long day; exam stress, boyfriend stress, life stress. Y/n/n was just very stressed out today. So she went to the one place she knew she’d be alone, in the library. It was her safe place. The one place no one would bother her because right now she just wanted to be alone. Just as she turned the corner to go to her secret space, right at the back of the library she noticed a small flickering light. She froze. Until she saw the familiar face of one of her closest friends, Remus John Lupin. 

“Y/n/n?” Are you okay?” Remus asked, worry lacing his voice and eyes as he made his way over to Y/n/n.

“Yeah….it’s just been one of those days y’know,” Y/n/n sighed, running her hand through her y/h/c locks. Remus knew what that meant. He knew she was stressed about her exams and he also knew that her boyfriend probably wasn’t helping all that much. He wasn’t as bad as some of the other guys she’d dated but that didn’t mean he was brilliant either….and even though he didn't know what the problem was, Remus knew that that guy had a part to play in her mood tonight. 

“Do you want me to go?”Remus asked, he knew her well enough to know that on days like she prefers to be alone, just to figure everything out. 

“No..no it’s okay,” Y/n/n said with a small smile on her face. She didn’t want him to go...she didn’t know why but she just didn’t. She felt safe around him, like she could step away from all of the things that had been bothering her that day and just relax with him. He was an amazing friend. Sometimes, she caught herself wondering what would happen if they could be more than just ‘friends’ but Remus was Remus. There was no way he’d ever be interested in her. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Remus asked, his words snapping Y/n/n out of her little daydream.

“Not really,” Y/n/n answered, shaking her head quickly. The last thing she needed was another ‘I told you so,’ she’d already gotten that from Lily and Marlene. 

“What about a distraction? I just started reading this book from the Muggle world; Lily lent it to me..I could...I could read it out loud, if you want?” 

“I’d love that Rem,” She said with a small smile on her face as she sat down next to him, her head resting on her folded arms on the table, her arms acting like a pillow. And with that, Remus flicked back a few pages to the beginning of the book, reading it aloud, loud enough for Y/n/n to hear what he was saying clearly, but still quiet enough that no one who walked past the library would hear. He continued to read for about half an hour, getting lost in the words of the book, it wasn’t until he heard a small little snore from Y/n/n that he realised she was asleep. He couldn’t help but look at her, a look of utter adoration in his eyes. She was beautiful. The most beautiful girl he’d ever met....he’d fought so hard to fight the things he was feeling, not wanting to admit to anyone that he loved her, but he did. He loved Y/n Y/l/n. But he knew that she’d never feel like that about him, especially not while she was in a relationship. Still that didn’t stop him from thinking how much better he could treat her. He wanted to treat her like a princess because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to be happy. Love was meant to make you happy, sure there were ups and downs in every relationship, that was a given but there was also meant to be happiness and joy and love...that’s what Remus wanted to give her. He wanted to give her his love and treat her right. 

~~~~~~~

Remus ran through the portrait, heading straight for the girls dormitory. His hand hovered over the doorknob trying to work out what he was going to say to Y/n/n...but when he heard her crying, his heart took control and he pushed the door open. 

“Remus!” Y/n yelped, her bloodshot eyes piercing into him. 

“What’re you doing in here? I could have been changing or asleep! You had no right to just come-” 

“I had no right?!” Remus bit back, interrupting her sentence before she even got the chance to finish it. The anger in his voice catching them both off guard. A few moments of silence passed, as Y/n/n tried to work out why Remus was so angry and as Remus tried to calm himself down.

“I’m...I’m sorry..Y/n/n..” he whispered, his eyes focused on the ground. 

A few more moments of silence passed before Remus lifted his head up, his gaze now focusing on her “I just...I hate seeing you like this,” as he said those words,he felt the tears begin to brim in his eyes.

“I hate seeing you give your love to people who don’t treasure it...not like I would,” it took him a moment to realise the words he’d just said, had it not been for Y/n/ns wide eyes he would’ve thought that that’s all it was, a thought. 

“Not like you would?” Y/n/n whispered, the tone of her voice soft, but still full of confusion begging for an explanation. Instantly Remus’ eyes fixed on the ground, opening and closed his mouth a few times, almost resembling a fish as he tried to find the right words to explain how he was feeling but it was like any and every word he’d ever learnt had just vanished from his mind. He felt himself getting more and more anxious until he looked up to see Y/n/n. The confused look was still on her face but just the mere sight of her brought him comfort. Comfort enough to allow his mind to think of three simple words. Three simple words that would explain everything he felt. Three words that could destroy the friendship that he held so dear...but they were the only three words he could think of.

“I love you,” he breathed. At first Y/n/n thought she’d wondered into one of her old dreams. The amount of times she’d dreamed of hearing those words come from his lips, was countless. She made her way closer towards him, raising her hand to his face, caressing his cheek softly. This all felt too real to be a dream. The touch of her hand on his skin made his heart skip a beat as a pale blush came across his cheeks. 

“I love you too, Rem...it’s always been you...no one...no one ever comes close,” Y/n/n whispered, her admission catching Remus completely off guard. 

“When-when did you..?” Y/n/n began, her voice trailing off as Remus raised his hand to cover hers. 

“Since that night in the library,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“Why did you never say?” She asked, continuing to trace small circles on his cheek. 

“Because you were with someone at the time...it wasn’t the right time..and then no time seemed to be the right time…” He answered honestly, before asking her the same questions she’d just asked him. It took Y/n/n a few moments to reply but when she did a somber look came over her face as she mentally cursed herself for not taking the risk to ask him out. 

“I...I always have...but I thought we were just friends...so I just...i just tried to fill the void..” She answered and as Remus looked into her eyes he saw no word of a lie. She was telling the truth. Without another second passing, he connected their lips. The kiss was slow, both of them getting used to one another's lips, but they molded together like they were made for each other, after a while the kiss became more passionate as the pair finally just gave into the feelings they’d harboured for each other for so long. When they did pull away from the kiss, Remus pulled Y/n/n into his embrace, placing a delicate kiss on her forehead before whispering the words “I’m gonna treat you how you should be treated, sweetheart...I’m gonna treat you better than any of them ever did,” and for the first time in probably all of her life, she felt the fairytale love she’d always dreamed of having and the best part is that it was with Remus.

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