#but it feels tentatively good to be writing again

[prettyboykatsuki]

balancing act | y. isagi + i. rin

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (she/her used for reader, good girl etc), threesome kinda, oral (m!recieving), bondage (m!receiving) deep-throating, face-fucking, some gagging, rin-centric, polyam relationship, rin and isagi have and established dynamic, soft dom! isagi, implied sub!rin, and switch!reader 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (enough......)

✮ a/n ; thank you for commissioning me @timesnewreader. i was... very excited to write this.... i hope u are okay with the direction i took....

✮ synopsis ; you start to understand the dynamic between them. or maybe all three of you, a little more.

or isagi teaching you how to make rin feel good while rins tied up.

tip jar | commission post (closed for now)

Isagi's hand is warm as it rests on your head.

You look up at him from where you're kneeling, craning your neck to try and get a look of his face. He notices quickly, instantly—affectionate as he lets his hand cup your cheek. His thumb brushes along your lip as he pets you.

A fuzzy feeling settles in your stomach at the touch and he smiles at you. Sun-warm, almost deceptively kind.

You can feel Rin's gaze on you too. Unreadable to you like always. Not quite cruel, not quite openly affectionate either. Something else simmering under the weighted teal irises that makes your stomach tie in knots.

"Don't be nervous," Isagi hums. Him and Rin lock eyes and for a split second, you almost think you understand them. "He won't act tough forever,"

"Shut up," RIn hisses. Isagi clicks his teeth.

"Lighten up first," Isagi says, shaking his head. He cards his fingers through Rin's hair. And then he tugs from the root, hard enough to make RIn hiss. His smile is the same - no traces of malice. "You're scaring her, y'know? Be civil."

Rin looks down at you again. On you? You don't really know. He doesn't look for long, and doesn't respond to Isagi when he talks. His eyes dart in another direction and he scoffs under his breath.

Isagi shakes his head. "You're so dishonest,"

They look at each other again, speaking without talking at all Rin clicks his teeth. Isagi sighs, shrugs, and directs his attention back to you.

"Sorry," He says, apologetic. Sincere. "We both want you here. Promise,"

It's like he's reading your mind, visible relief making your shoulders sag where you sit. Isagi's grin grows another size, pinching your cheek slightly. "You were worried, huh? How sweet."

You squirm a little. You can't find your voice for a minute or two. "A little. I don't... if Rin-kun isn't comfortable with it then—"

Isagi laughs.

And then, with no ceremony - he puts his knee between Rin's closed legs and shoves them apart. Rin snaps at him. Isagi keeps his legs forced open without concern.

Rin isn't any position to do anything anyway. You're knelt between his legs but he's got his arms tied - restrained to a chair per Isagis's request. He fights a blush as Isagi keeps his legs apart.

He's not naked, but you can see he's hard. His cock strains against the athleisure on hips - tenting the fabric slightly. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at Rin whose still refusing to look at you.

"Promise he won't bite," Isagi says, encouraging you to touch him. "Not if I keep him restrained at least. It's okay."

You and Rin look each other this time. Rin's eyes lid as you crawl closer between his legs. Your hand is tentative, loosely cupping his cock.

The response is instant. A sharp hiss, dick twitching against your hand despite how lightly you've touched it. It emboldens you, enough to hold it at least. He's hard. You wonder if you did that to him. Some part of you can't believe it.

"See? He's just embarrassed," Isagi says, patient with you. With Rin too, you think. "He wants you make him feel good. Rin had a crush on you first, you know? Between us. I bet you want that too,"

You look up at him innocently. "I want to make you feel good too,"

Isagi lets out a labored breath. "Watching you makes me feel good. Rin-kun will pout if I get to you first," An eye roll. "Unfair right? But that's how much he likes you."

"Shut up already,"

Rin is blushing. Isagi laughs. "See? I'll tell you how to make him feel good. You'll get something nice after, okay?"

"Oh it's—it,"

"Don't argue, 'kay? Go, get closer to him."

So you listen to him. You inch closer to Rin's lap and rest your hand on his leg. Isagi bends down on one knee behind you, keeping his legs apart when Rin tries to shut them closed. Undressing him for your ease of access, hands pushing his sweats down to his thighs.

At full height, his dick is bigger than you imagined it to be. Prettier too, somehow. It's gorgeous—tip flushed cherry red, with a long curve and veins that stand out. Mostly hairless except at the base, where it's well groomed. The hair grows thick still, contrasts so nice against the pale color of his cock. Pre-cum dribbles from the head, silky and and crystalline clear - laced with white.

You feel your head get heavy. A subconscious desire to get closer to it overwhelms your thoughts. Close enough to breathe on it. Rin huffs.

"You're making such a cute face," Isagi coos, amused by you. Embarrassment flares in your belly, tickles your skin. "He likes when you start light. Too much at once and he'll get overwhelmed. Go slowly,"

He instructs so gentle you don't feel condescended. Despite his smugness, his intention is so genuine it makes you flush.

You let your instinct take over. Your mind clouds, pouting your lips to press a soft kiss to the very base of his shaft. Wet and open mouthed, you rest and feel the weight of it. The pulse of it. His cock is so heavy against your face

You move up, kissing it slowly all the way to the very tip. You let your lips rest there. Rin looks down at you, chest heaving.

The obstinacy has melted off of him. Faster then you could've predicted. There's something...needy to it. Almost. Maybe you're reading it wrong.

"You're so good, hm," Isagi hums - standing on his knees behind you. His hand comes around your waist, palm resting on your midriff. "Learned so fast. Use your tongue,"

You dip your tongue into leaking slit on command. Rin cusses loud.

Without thinking, you open your mouth up enough to fit the tip of his cock into it fully. You don't take him all the way into your throat, heeding Isagi's advice to go slow.

"It's sensitive under the head," He directs. He's so comforting, so sincere. "Try it,"

You concentrate your attention there, pressing your tongue flat. Rin jerks above you - hips threatening to buck up into your throat. But Isagi uses both hands to hold him down by his thighs. Rin strains against it but Isagi is firm. You're reminded then that despite the difference in size between them, their athletic prowess isn't so different.

The thought sends you reeling.

"So desperate," Isagi taunts. "A pretty girl has your cock in her mouth and you get so worked up. What happened to your restraint and self-discipline, huh?"

"Fuck off," Rin swears. His voice lacking the composure you've come to associate with him so strongly. "Shut up before I go soft."

"As if you would. Can't cum without me telling you off, can you?"

You feel him twitch in your mouth and you try not to gasp at the reaction, proving itself in front of your eyes. Your eyes go wide and Rin looks down with an embarrassed blush and oh—.

"See? Rin-kun only acts tough but truth is he can only take so much," Isagi hums. His hands slide up your chest and you feel him cup your tits - giving them an affectionate squeeze. "That's why we're spoiling him. He's being like this but he's happy you're pampering him. Right, Rin-kun?"

You look at Rin again and you think you're starting to understand. Just a little. How it goes between them. And now between you. The thought makes your pride swell.

"Rin-kun," You pull away, eyes blown wide in some sudden desire. "I like you."

A pause. Air being pulled into lungs, a held breath. Rin's eyes go wide and you watch as his cock dribbles again. Isagi freezes for a moment too before he laughs, laughs warm and affectionate and so loud.

"You caught on fast, huh?" Isagi says, hugging you from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder. "And me too, right?"

"Yeah, of course you too." You nod.

You understand it a little more clearer. Rin never does something he doesn't have a reason or desire to do. His ego doesn't work that way. Not combating Isagi, no matter how smug, is it's own form of submission you think.

"Let's keep going, okay? Without worry."

A weight lifted from your shoulders, you nod again. Open your mouth fully, careful as you stand up on your knees and get closer. The assurance instills confidence in you, makes it easier for you to go through the practiced motions. Your hands on Rin's thighs, corded muscle strained under your palms where you hold yourself up. Both you and Isagi holding his hips in tandem.

You let yourself take him in. Trapped betwen them, you swallow around Rin's cock. Careful to mind your teeth, the edges of your mouth stretch and ache to accommodate his length. The scent of him makes your head feel heavy, a strong musk and the taste of clean skin all over your tongue. Makes your mouth water, brain melting slow. The effort doesn't go unnoticed, Isagi whispering praises as you open up your throat to fit fully fit Rin's cock.

"You're so good. Just like that," He hums, giggling. "Even I can't do this well. So good with your mouth huh?"

You gag voicing a muffled 'thank you' and Rin curses above you. You feel him strain, muscles of his thighs shaking hard.

"Fuck—fuck, don't—"

You move then. Mouth full of spit, used to the feeling of his cock down your throat - you move bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. Your eyes prick with tears at the way he hits your throat now repeatedly but you push forward anyhow.

You want to see him cum. You want to make him cum.

You can only go for so long though, before your jaw starts to trie.

When you start to slow, Isagi is kind and does the heavy lifting for you.

His hands rest on the side of your head forcing you up and down. It sends a shot of lightning through you, arousal making your whole body shiver at the controlled force. Precise force. He holds you down but he's careful not to push you too far. You moan around Rin's cock in response to it.

Having your face fucked with Isagi as the driver makes your mind bend with unfiltered lust. Your legs clamp again, an empty ache in your cunt as you think about what he must be like when he fucks.

Rin doesn't make it out any better. You can feel him. How he starts tremble, how his voice goes shot - how his dick gets harder, twitches so violently in your mouth each time he bottoms out in your throat.

"Fuck," His head drops back in a groan. "Fuck I'm—"

Isagi smiles a little.

"Be a good boy and cum down her throat like she wants,"

That's what makes him let go. Isagi holds you down as Rin cums with something that borders on a scream, straining against his restraints as his cum spills all the way down. It fills your mouth, the taste and the scent making you dizzy. It goes so far into your throat you don't taste it, rather you swallow it all in one go with little fuss other than a loud gulp.

"That's it," Isagi coos. "That's a good girl. Easy, easy. Breathe."

You cough as Isagi lets you off of Rin slowly, exhaling as you clear your throat. When you pull away, Isagi pulls you by your chin to tip your face over to meet his.

"Open your mouth, beautiful."

You do and Isagi smiles with pride. "You really swallowed all of it. Didn't even use your hands," He hums. "What a good girl."

You make a face of embarrassment. "Thank you,"

Rin makes a disgruntled sound. "Untie me before I fucking kill you,"

Isagi snorts, giving you a short kiss before going around to undo Rin's bindings. "Hard to take you seriously when you sound like that."

You sit where you are, in a mild daze you collect yourself. Lost in your own world, you don't notice when Rin finally gets untied.

It startles you when you feel him practically jump you. When his hands are free, he bends over the chair and brings your face to his. Big hands cradle your face as you feel him kiss you so hard it shakes you. More teeth than lip, rough but full of desire. You feel his tongue in your mouth even after swallowing his cum. At some point you give into it, hands clutching his shoulder as you struggle to breathe.

It's Isagi that pulls him off, a laugh on his voice - not mad at all.

"You're so aggressive when you get like this. Just be honest from the start next time instead of trying to eat her, dumbass."

Despite the bickering, Isagi bends down from where he stands to kiss Rin too and Rin lets him so easily you almost want to laugh. Rin must notice. He glares just a little but he looks embarrassed more than anything.

"You did good baby," Isagi praise, a hand on your shoulder. "What kind of reward do you want?"

You pause. "What does Rin-kun want?"

A blush paints him deep red and you ans Isagi sort of smile in mutual understanding. He frowns, bangs covering his face.

"Want you to sit on my face,"

You look at Isagi.

"Then that, if that's okay."

Isagi hums, a hand on Rin's nape. "More than okay. Guess it's fine to spoil him a little more."

Rin makes a disgruntled noise, but ultimately - he doesn't seem too unhappy with it either.

A very careful balancing act.

[ambrosia-vinca]

There's a kind of defensive attitude towards criticism re:Lucanis' romance in many corners of the fandom that I partially understand because Veilguard gets a lot of shit thrown at it, and if you enjoy something you naturally want to defend it. But this type of attitude also rubs me the wrong way when people who loved the way his romance played out say that anyone criticizing it must just not understand slow burns/not like slow burn as a genre/not understand Lucanis' character and his trauma properly/must have been expecting explicit sex scenes and a Zevran 2.0.

Maybe some people criticizing his romance don't like slow burns, or were wrongly expecting him to be a sex god, or ignore his trauma. I've seen a few. But that's not all the criticism there is.

Personally, I love slow burns, it's my favorite genre both to read and write (I'm the type of fic writer to think up 200k words enemies to lovers longfics where they've barely kissed after 100k words). I'm also the type of ace person who's not into extremely explicit sex scenes or super kinky romances (especially with male dom stuff, which I personally dislike). And lastly, I'm the type who picks the angstiest possible romance choice.

All this to say that Lucanis and his romance were theoretically made in a lab for me. Slow burn because the character doesn't trust easily and is traumatized by his past experiences and has many things he must resolve, excruciatingly slow to open up? Unexpectedly very sweet, wet, sad man with puppy eyes? Romance scenes that are caring and romantic instead of outright steamy? Perfect, right up my alley! I keep romancing Fenris in DA2 exactly for that reason because I love him dearly, and he breaks up with Hawke for 3 whole years! Still my favorite!

But the whole point of a slow burn are the steps. It's a slow burn, which means little step by little step, the relationship slowly builds to a conclusion, from tentative acquaintances who don't trust each other, to slooowly evolve into something more, and it's precisely these crumbs that make the trope enjoyable.

To me, Lucanis' romance doesn't feel like it does little steps, it feels like it skips steps. I can see the main story beats of a good slow burn, but not the crumbs that make a slow burn. I don't want him and Rook to jump each other after 2 scenes, I want to see more of the fumbling, the hesitation, the dancing around each other. No, dragon age isn't a romance game, I'm aware, but if romance is an option, and it is written to fit a specific trope, I would like it done properly. They've done slowburns and angsty before, and they were good (even Solas', and his romance is super short). I want the evolution of the relationship shown to me, not told in broad strokes and big steps, and I don't want to have to write half the romance in my head or rely on ao3.

We get nothing between the coffee date and the almost kiss, absolutely no reaction of any kind to the flirting, not even a blink. If Lucanis and Rook were capable of having an entire conversation about coffee and kisses metaphors when they barely knew each other, then I think they can flirt a bit more in the following conversations when you pick the romantic option, dance around each other, have Lucanis fumble a little more like he does with Neve when he actually registers Rook is sincerely into him. Even just a sign that he heard Rook when they pick the romantic option in the following conversations, because as it is he immediately resumes whatever he was saying. And if his lack of reaction is because he's suddenly afraid and thinks it's a bad idea, I would like it shown on his face, or as an actual noticeable pause/hesitation. It didn't look like he thought it was a bad idea at Café Pietra, unless he just thought Rook was flirting just to flirt and wasn't serious, but again, none of that is hinted at in any way.

Then there's the almost kiss that follows and is the first actually romantic moment we get after the coffee date, and suddenly Lucanis is all smooth and confident about flirting again. With nothing in between ever since *Illario voice* he got all romantic about roasts. Was he reluctant before and that's why he didn't react to Rook's flirting/caring concern? We have no idea, because while he warns Rook it's a bad idea to be attracted to him, he doesn't seem scared, more amused at their daredevil tendencies. The first time in his entire romance we get a clear indication he's afraid and won't open up for a long time is at the end of this specific scene, when he pulls away, and the way it happens is like Lucanis himself wasn't expecting his fear to overcome him. He wants, he lets himself be pulled forward, and then he suddenly gets drowned by overwhelming terror, and he pulls away.

The beginning of the romance (the date + almost kiss) reads to me as if Lucanis was trying to forget the Ossuary, letting himself flirt and feel attraction and just simply live again as if nothing happened, believing if he didn't think about his trauma and forcefully moved forward then it would stay buried, and then the Ossuary unexpectedly caught up to him, because you don't just bury things like that, it always comes back up at some point if you make no effort to actually process what happened.

And then there's nothing again for a long while. I can imagine Rook leaving space for Lucanis because they're considerate of his feelings and they can see something is deeply wrong, but still, something big and awkward happened between them! Not even one conversation where they try to gently broach the subject and Lucanis immediately clams up? What about some mentions of how awkward things suddenly are between the two? Even through party banter? We got plenty about Hawke and Fenris' situationship in DA2 after Fenris pulls away. The other companions comment on their breakup and how it's painfully obvious they're in love still, no matter what happened, and there are a few banters between Hawke and Fenris themselves. Surely things are a little tense and awkward between Rook and Lucanis as well at that point, and their friends would notice? They don't spend as much time together as they used to, Lucanis doesn't talk directly to Rook much anymore unless he has to, can't quite look them in the eye, doesn't want to stay alone in a room with them. He is still protective of them because he obviously cares very much, but can't bring himself to have an honest talk about his feelings and fears because he's still completely locked in his mind prison and would rather deal with his problems by stabbing his enemies.

Rook being lost because they haven't been inside his head yet and they're not sure if it's because of what Lucanis has been through, or if they did something wrong to get them rejected, and they're stuck because Lucanis completely refuses to open up. There are so many little things that could have been implemented to actually serve as the little steps for the slow burn. You're telling me even Emmrich or Neve, perceptive as they are, wouldn't have noticed their two friends suddenly being awkward and sad and not try to talk to Rook about it at the very least?

And then there's the mind prison where Rook gets all Lucanis' fears and insecurities explicitly told to them. Immediately followed by the scene where you lock in the relationship as he makes them dessert.

Were they in a relationship?? When did they get together? Do they get together right there in the kitchen by the sheer power of cake (ok, relatable)? You don't know! They almost kiss, things are theoretically painfully awkward between them for a while, Rook discovers the substance of his trauma, and poof. They're a couple. Yes, I know that Lucanis' love language is acts of service, but did they communicate at all at any point about what's going on between them? Surely even if Rook helping him out of his head puts him on the road to eventual recovery, it didn't suddenly erase all of Lucanis' trauma and fears and doubts.

I liked Rook calling out the subtext of what Lucanis says in that scene (“it's nothing, or not enough”/”it is, and you are”), I did think it was sweet and perceptive of them. But still, we go from attraction to pulling away to suddenly committing to a relationship with never actually discussing exactly what goes on between them. Never outright deciding they want to try something serious. There wouldn't have been much actual flirting or sincere conversations between them after the almost-kiss, for obvious reasons, so how does Lucanis know Rook hasn't moved on/isn't angry at him after all this time, considering how they didn't communicate at all afterwards and he's not exactly the best at feelings and self-confidence? He just talks as if it's a given they're attracted to him still, and only worries about not being good enough for them. I wanted crumbs of reassurance from Rook, more than what we got, because Lucanis' probable guilt is never actually tackled in any way – he had perfectly valid reasons to pull away, of course, but considering how much he blames himself for anything and everything, I'm pretty sure he would also blame himself for hurting Rook's feelings, even if they're understanding and not actually angry with him at all.

Idk. I have a lot of thoughts, especially about the middle of his romance. The last big scene we get is one of my favorites through all dragon age games, it was so sweet, but I still felt like the entire middle part of the romance lacked a lot of slow burn crumbs, and I was still hungry when I got to the end.

[band--psycho]

Vander x Reader - In Another Life (Part 1)

SPOILERS FROM ACT 3 - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Vander Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Thank you to everyone who's sent in a request so far! I'm absolutely loving the ideas you guys are sharing and will get to work on them soon! 💛

Requests are still open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

The way I sobbed during this first episode when I saw Vander again!

I just had to write this afterwards - I hope you all enjoy this!

You woke with a start, your heart beating at a rapid pace as a light bead of sweat formed on your forehead. 

You stayed like that for a minute, just sitting upright in the bed as you began to catch your breath; your eyes focusing on the environment around you. 

You weren’t in your bedroom. 

In fact, you didn’t really know where you were…it was weird, although this place seemed so different to you, it felt oddly familiar at the same time.

The last thing you could remember was being in the room with the hexcore in it. 

Ekko…Heimerdinger…Jayce…where were they?

Thoughts were running around in your mind faster than you could keep up with them; you’d barely finished one thought before another one took over, as you tried to work out what the hell happened and where the hell you were. 

‘Am I dead?’ you thought to yourself, running your hands over your face. 

But all your thoughts were halted when you heard the door to your side creek open; followed by a voice that confirmed you must’ve been dead, or just completely losing your mind.

Vanders voice….

“Good morning, sleepyhead, or should I say afternoon,” he chuckled; a sound that made your heart ache, and yet at the same time, made you feel all warm and fuzzy. 

It was a sound that you never thought you’d hear again… 

A sound that had made you feel safe; regardless of what was going on, even now when you had no idea what was going on. 

You heard his footsteps getting closer to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

Not even for a second, just in case this was just your mind playing a foul trick on you. 

It wasn’t long before the sounds of his footsteps stopped and the bed that you were sitting on dipped as Vander sat in front of you.  

He lifted his hand to your face, tilting your chin up with his thumb, “You okay, sweetheart?”

His touch; it felt so real, so real that it made you sure it wasn’t your mind deceiving you. 

It couldn’t have been. 

Vander quite often occupied your dreams, and in every single one of them, his touch had never felt as real as it did in this very moment. 

“Am I dead?” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, coming out in a small whisper.

Your eyes met Vanders gray ones, that’s when you noticed the worry that was slowly building inside them as he stared at you. 

“No, darl,” he cooed, wrapping his other hand around your waist, lifting you out of the bed momentarily before placing you in his lap, “you're safe.”

Safe.

You hadn’t been safe in a long time. 

And yet, here you were feeling safer then you had in years, with a man who should’ve been dead.

Your man. 

The love of your life. 

He was here. 

He was alive. 

You could hear his heart beating as you snuggled into his chest, savoring the all too familiar scent of Vander….smoke, fire and alcohol, mixing together with a small amount of cologne he loved to wear. 

“You’re alive…” you breathed, tentatively reaching out to touch his cheek. 

He seemed different. 

But in a good way.

The dark circles that were once under his eyes were pretty much all but gone; and his eyes seemed happier than when you knew him, as though he was free from all the stress that once plagued him. 

“Course I am, darl,” he assured you with a small smile; before pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, hoping that his small action would be able to ease your mind. 

It didn’t. Not really at least. 

You were so confused. 

You didn't understand what was happening.

You tried to blink back the tears that were forming in your eyes, tried to keep yourself together so you could figure out what was happening. 

So you could think logically. 

But there was nothing logical about any of this…the arcane….magic…it wasn’t something that was logical. 

But now, being wrapped up in Vanders arms again, made you want to throw logic to the wind and just stay like this with him for as long as you possible could, not knowing how long this could last.

You didn’t know what was happening, or how, or why; all you knew was that Vander was here. 

That was all that mattered.

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @the-lone-librarian @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea @eternallyvenus @trixiex2 @nagislemontea @dazecrea @littlejoyfullthing

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (X – ADAR)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST ALTERNATIVE ENDING (SAURON)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You are trying your best to support Adar even when his own children are starting to doubt him. Another challenge that you must face is him learning about your secret.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — First of all, thank you so much for your comments under every part and your support because this fic (and this fandom) was what brought back my joy for writing! 😊 This part is less canon-like than the alternative ending where The Reader chooses Sauron but I just had to give them a happy ending here! 🥰 BTW, I was googling the Elven word for "mother" and I hope I used the right one because there were so many... 😫

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (X – ADAR)

You spent the rest of the day and half of the night inside the forest, in your new favourite place, feeling uneasy. Alone, just in case Sauron wanted to reach out to you again. But he was not making such attempts and it was making you anxious more than ever. His wrath was something you did not want to experience yourself and you knew very well that you had earned it.

Nervously fidgeting with the wedding band around your finger, you were sitting there by the fallen tree and listening to the sounds of the battle taking place nearby. Once more, you felt like sneaking back into the camp, stealing your own horse and running away to some place where no one knew you. But you knew you could not. You had to face the consequences of your actions.

Eventually, you took a deep breath in and decided to find Adar. You needed him close to feel safe and secure again because your anxiety was growing bigger and bigger with each given moment.

You found him near your shared tent, surrounded by the Orcs, small fires to light the path and all the war machines that made you realise how truly close you were to the battle indeed and how serious the situation was.

As you were approaching Adar from one side, you spotted Glûg walking up to him from the opposite one, with some of his friends standing behind as if they were waiting for him to speak to their Lord Father in the name of them all.

“Lord Father,” Glûg started just when you stood next to your husband and wrapped your trembling hands around his arm, happy that he was still there; that Sauron’s rage had not taken him away from you just yet. “The wall is stronger than we thought,” Glûg continued with his head slightly bowed down. “We may not breach it before morning. The Elf is faring better than you expected,” he added. “His troops have already destroyed five of our trebuchets. Many Uruk are dying,” he emphasised, his voice filled with pain and fear. “What are your orders, Lord Father? Shall we sound retreat?”

“No,” Adar’s answer was quick, nearly harsh. It caused a shiver to go down your spine as you watched with interest the conversation between him and his son. “Sauron must not escape,” Adar stated and turned around in your direction, putting his arm around your back to walk you inside the tent. “Bring down that wall. At any cost,” he added.

“Adar!” Glûg exclaimed and you exchanged a meaningful look with your husband. There was desperation but also a hint of disappointment mixed with anger in the Orc’s voice. You both froze and turned around to face him once more. “You told us… You loved us,” Glûg reminded his father in the Black Speech and your heart clenched inside your chest at his words that you could understand perfectly well now.

“With all that is left of my heart,” Adar answered with pain but also determination in his voice. Too much to let you become Sauron’s slaves.”

There was no answer from Glûg or any of the Orcs, so Adar left your side and went inside the tent. You hesitated at the sight of their faces, though. Their expressions did not mean anything good.

“Glûg, my dear, come here,” you approached him and put your arm around him as you walked together into a bit more secluded place where no one else could hear you. “Can I trust you?” You asked him and he nodded after a short hesitation, visibly moved with the fact that your hand was on his arm, protectively. “In my short time by your father’s side, you and I spent a lot of time together,” you reminded him. “And I am going to tell you something that not even Adar knows,” you took a deep breath in and moved away slightly from him.

“What is it, my Lady?” He asked, curiously.

“I know Sauron,” you confessed and his eyes widened. “I met him at the dawn of this Age when I was a young maiden,” you explained. “He is no stranger to me, and believe me when I tell you… Your father wants the best for you. There are things about Sauron that he simply cannot reveal to you but he is the most dangerous spirit living amongst us. He cannot be trusted no matter what,” you told Glûg, feeling a sudden heaviness in your heart. You were betraying your lover now but how could you not under such circumstances?

Glûg’s eyes filled with fear but also admiration towards you. You trusted him with your secret and it made him feel special.

“Your father is not entirely rational now but he is doing it all because he loves you so much,” you assured the Orc and patted his arm.

“Yes, my Lady,” Glûg nodded and bowed his head down before hurrying back to his friends.

You took a deep breath in, trying to compose yourself before you would face Adar. But when you entered the tent, he was visibly nervous and angry. You glanced at the pole, to which Lady Galadriel was supposed to be chained to but she was gone.

“What happened?” You asked.

“She escaped,” Adar stood up and showed you a small Elven key Galadriel had to use to get out of her shackles. Suddenly, you realised what Herald Elrond had done while kissing her. He had managed to distract everyone from the fact he had handed her his brooch with a hidden item inside.

“My dear,” you approached him, sensing his nervousness. You placed your hands flat on his chest and tried to soothe him. “Have you ordered already to search for her?”

“Yes, I have,” Adar nodded with a sigh. “I am now going to light the pyres for our fallen children. Are you coming with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you nodded and caressed his cheek softly. “Please, do not make decisions in a haste. Whatever happens, I shall remain by your side,” you promised and he smiled gently at you.

After that, you joined him by the funeral pyre. He lit it up with a torch while saying the phrase in the Black Speech that you had heard him say many times before whenever you had been burying any deceased Orc:

“In flames they return to darkness.”

You stood above him and kept your hand on his arm while he mourned with the Orcs. You looked down sadly, too and squeezed his shoulder as he raised his hand to join your fingers together.

Glûg was standing next to you and you could feel his curious eyes watching you closely throughout the short ceremony.

The battle was getting worse and more ferocious but you remained inside the tent now, nervously patting the surface of the wooden table with your fingers. Then, suddenly, Glûg entered the tent without even announcing himself. You turned around, surprised and raised an eyebrow at him.

“My Lady,” he bowed his head. “Forgive me but I must speak with you.”

“What is it, dear?” You furrowed your brows out of worry as you hurried to his side and put your arm around him once more to invite him inside.

“I come to you because Lord Father remains deaf to my pleas,” Glûg looked into your eyes, looking for compassion.

“What pleas, darling? He will not agree to go back home. Believe me, I’ve tried,” you cracked a sad smile.

“That I know, my Lady,” he nodded. “He has just ordered to send the troll in.”

“And why does that bother you so much?” You inquired. “Have we not brought that creature here to use him in battle?”

“He is killing our own kind!” Glûg tried to protest and you gasped when you realised what truly was the matter here.

“I understand,” you squeezed his arms. “I mourn with you, my dear, I truly do,” you nodded at him and it was not even a lie. “However, we must trust your Lord Father’s orders. In every battle there are heroes who lose their life for bigger ideas; who sacrifice themselves for others. I know how painful it is but our purpose is the most important. Sauron wishes to enslave your kind,” you tried to explain to him as if he was truly a child. “We cannot let him. And every hero amongst the Uruk that loses their life today, will forever be remembered and cherished.”

Glûg looked down, sadly, but you could feel his muscles relaxing a little under your comforting touch.

“All this pain,” he glanced up again to meet your gaze as you took your hands away from him and looked at him, confused. “Why does it hurt so much, Lady Mother?” He asked and his sincerity caused your eyes to fill with tears.

“It hurts me, too, Glûg. It hurts your father as well. It hurts because we love and care,” you explained. “However, some sacrifices must be made if we want to live peacefully in the future. I wish we did not have to but you have Sauron to thank for that and him only,” you added. “Do not forget who is the one who loves you and who is your enemy,” you reminded him and he bowed his head down before leaving your tent.

And when he left and you turned around while taking a deep breath in, you realised how he had called you a few moments ago.

Lady Mother.

You smiled to yourself. Somehow, it filled you with pride to earn this title.

When the dawn came, you could no longer stay in one place. You left the tent and went deeper into the forest to hide between the tall trees. But instead of going straight to your favourite place, you took a small detour, trying to calm down your pounding heart and your shaky breath.

And while walking around like that, you found another beautiful location – a forest clearing with a stone circle that had been built there by the Elves back in the First Age most likely. What surprised you the most about this place, though, was seeing your husband kneeling by the biggest stone in the middle of the circle. And upon that stone, Morgoth’s crown was laid.

“Are you praying, my love?” You whispered nervously as you approached him from behind. You would be very surprised if he said yes.

“How blind I was…” He only said mysteriously and moved his right hand across the stone’s surface, revealing a beautiful Ring on his finger and you gasped.

It was chiming with a beautiful song of the Elves and vibrating with pure lightness. It had to be the Ring Lady Galadriel had mentioned. Her Ring.

Adar raised himself very slowly as you kept watching him with a surprised and nervous expression. When he turned around, your jaw dropped slightly at the sight of his face being healed completely from all the scars and corruption.

He looked now like an ordinary Elf; like he had been before Morgoth. Your heart ached for him and you hurried to his side, reaching your hands out to cup his cheeks but his hands stopped your wrists as he looked into your eyes with a very sad expression.

“Loneliness caused my blindness when it came to you but this Ring made me see… It made me see everything,” he revealed and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes welled with tears instantly.

“Then it surely made you see how much I love you as well,” you breathed out. “And how much I regret everything.”

“I cannot blame you,” Adar let go of your wrists but you did not dare to make an attempt to touch his face this time as you looked down with tears and shame in your eyes. “You were forced to marry me and I know how tempting he can be even to the old and wise and you were nothing but a young maiden.”

“But now you see that my heart is even more rotten than you thought,” you mumbled out.

“On the contrary, my love. Only beautiful things can get corrupted. Your love and devotion towards him were your downfall and no heart able to love and devote itself as much can be rotten,” Adar pointed out and you looked up to meet his gaze once more.

His eyes were soft and sad but still not angry.

“What else do you see with that Ring?” You asked him, curiously.

“I see the future. How it might be if we form an alliance with the Elves. I see that these two items together,” he looked behind at Morgoth’s crown, “are enough to get rid of Sauron.”

“And do you see how much I want this, too?” You bit on your lower lip.

It felt so odd to speak to him when he looked like that. You felt like a child being lectured by an old and wise Elf like all those sages you had met in Mithlond and Eregion back in the day.

Perhaps Adar would be one of them if he had never chosen to follow Morgoth. Perhaps he would be your husband either way – you had been sent to these cities as a young maiden to study. Perhaps you would meet him there and fall in love with him. Even though the circumstances would be different, two Elven souls who loved each other would always find one another.

“I see much more,” Adar smiled softly and shyly reached out for your hand to hold it gently. You allowed him, gladly. “I see new life in the future. A possibility of it at least,” he explained as his voice trembled.

“What would that life be like, though?” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Pure, if that is what you are worrying about. It would be full of Valinor’s light,” he assured you and you cracked a smile.

“It is a possibility I might take under my consideration,” you told him. “One day… After you heal enough from my betrayal to forgive me.”

“I have forgiven you already, my love,” Adar said in the Quenya language as he raised his hand to brush your cheek. “I would forgive you even if you killed me for him.”

“Who would watch over your children then?” You shook your head.

“Our children. You would watch over them. Of that, I am certain, Emel,” Adar smiled.

Mother.

“Glûg called me that yesterday. He called me Lady Mother,” you told your husband, excitedly.

“I know,” he nodded, calmly. He was not surprised but visibly glad. “They have been calling you that behind your back for a while now,” he informed you and his words made you grin widely.

You made one more attempt to cup his healed cheeks and this time he allowed you to. His eyes closed themselves slightly at your touch and you felt warm tears streaming down your face because you wished he had never endured all the pain and suffering Morgoth and Sauron had put him through.

“Do not pity me, my love,” he interrupted your thoughts.

“It is scary how much you can penetrate my mind now,” you admitted with a chuckle and his eyes opened again to look at you.

“I wish it could stay this way,” Adar admitted. “I wish I could hide in yours when mine becomes unbearable.”

“Oh, Adar, my love…” You leaned in to join your lips together in a sweet and loving kiss.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You moved uncomfortably but Adar was standing still, so you relaxed once more and just went back to kissing him.

“She-Elf turned herself in,” you heard one of the Orcs as he threw a sword on the ground.

You broke the kiss and turned around. It was Lady Galadriel herself, standing there with widened eyes. She could not see Adar yet because you were standing in front of him but she was surprised enough already to witness you two kiss.

“Leave us,” you nodded at the Orcs and they walked away. They were trying to curiously look behind you and see Adar but he looked down as he hid behind you even further.

And he remained this way, as if he was shy to show his true form to Lady Galadriel. So, you took a step to the side to cover him from her even more and your hand found his to hold.

“I accept your terms, Uruks,” Galadriel announced, looking at you since she could not see your husband’s face. “I have what Sauron seeks. End this slaughter and I will do as you asked. I will help you destroy him.”

“How do you expect to destroy Sauron without your Ring?” Adar asked behind you and you slowly moved away as he revealed himself to her.

Galadriel gasped as her eyes widened with wonder.

“It would seem, even wounds that have endured an age, can sometimes yet be healed,” he said, softly.

“Adar…” Galadriel whispered, her voice filled with pain and compassion.

“When last I looked like this, I was known by another name,” he confessed and you stood by his side to wrap your hands around his arm.

“What was it?” Galadriel asked.

“A meaningless name. A name I was given,” Adar shook his head.

“The man he once was is a stranger to us, Galadriel. He should not concern us,” you told her, quoting the words he had once told you when you had asked the same thing.

“Adar is the name I earned,” he smiled softly at you before laying his eyes upon her again. He walked up to Galadriel and you followed him, still clutching to his arm. “Help me to earn it back.”

You watched your husband taking the beautifully crafted ring off and handing it back to Galadriel and your heart sank deeper into your chest when you realised his face was turning paler and greyer once more as his old scars were showing up on his skin again.

Not that you ever cared about them. It was no matter of beauty to you but it was a painful reminder of the suffering he had been through and for that reason you wished for him to be free of them.

And – despite that suffering – he had enough softness inside of him to love his children. Enough softness left deep inside of him to forgive his wife such a betrayal and to even understand her.

You couldn’t help the feeling that you did not deserve Adar but you would do anything from now on to be worthy of him.

“Take it,” he said to Galadriel. “Help me vanquish Sauron with it and I swear to you, we will recall our children to Mordor. Never to make war on Middle-earth again.”

Galadriel’s face filled with pain at his words and at the sight of his face going back to its previous state. She was full of light and compassion at that moment – just like she should always be. You felt bad for her now. For the corruption Sauron had been trying to cause within her, too.

“I have slain more of your children than any Elf alive,” she admitted with remorse and gentleness.

“I forgive you,” Adar said in the Sindarin language and you squeezed his arm tighter.

As you focused on him, you nearly missed the fact that the short silence occurring was caused by the fact Galadriel was looking at you and waiting for your answer, too.

“I am the last person you should seek forgiveness from,” you only said, mysteriously. “I have my own sins to redeem.”

After those words, Galadriel finally reached out for her Ring and took it from Adar’s hand.

“No more flames and no more darkness,” he promised her. “Let this Ring heal the rift between Elf and Uruk,” he added. “Let us create a lasting peace in Middle-earth.”

“Now and forever,” you added as you watched Galadriel put the Ring back on her finger and her face lit up with a smile.

Your small moment of blissfulness was interrupted by a few Orcs carrying Glûg on the stretchers. His face was wincing out of pain and he seemed to be hurt. Adar left your side immediately and you stood there with Galadriel while you observed.

“What happened?” Adar kneeled down to check on his son.

“We found Sauron, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs explained and you moved uncomfortably at that mention. “We refused to follow him. So, Sauron did this. He has fled from Eregion, they say.”

You exchanged a meaningful look with Lady Galadriel. It was no surprise to you that Sauron had disappeared after such a failure. After all, he was left with no army. His rage, however, had to be great now. And you were sure he would come back sooner than later to collect everything he believed belonged to him.

“We shall be ready when he comes,” Galadriel nodded at you and you nodded back but the worry about Glûg was occupying most of your thoughts now.

“Forgive me, child,” Adar whispered to him as you hurried to their side and kneeled down to take the Orc’s hand and squeeze it in yours.

“It’s too late for me…” Glûg groaned.

“No… No, no, no,” you shook your head and looked up at Galadriel. “Lady Galadriel, please. Can you try to heal him with your Ring?” You pleaded and all the Orcs looked at her as she swallowed thickly.

“I… I can try…” She hesitated and you moved away slightly to make more space for her.

“I will not let you die, my dear,” you promised Glûg as you squeezed his hand tighter. 

All the Orcs watched with widened eyes how Lady Galadriel crouched down to put her hand with the beautiful Ring upon it and place it on Glûg’s chest. She closed her eyes and focused as the Ring chimed and you could feel that Glûg’s muscles were beginning to relax.

“It’s working,” one of the Orcs mumbled, surprised.

You watched with relief because they were right and Glûg managed to sit up right after Galadriel retreated with her Ring.

“Galadriel, the Orc-Slayer,” you smiled at her. “You have begun to redeem yourself amongst our kin.”

“Thank you, Lady Mother,” she nodded at you and you nodded back.

“Tell your brothers we are going back to Mordor,” Adar stood up and informed one of the Orcs. “Stop the siege. We have a pact now with the Elves.”

“And what then, Lord Father?” The Orc asked him.

“We will prepare ourselves for when Sauron comes because he will surely come. We will be ready to welcome him in our own land, on our own terms,” Adar answered.

“Will you go with us?” You asked Galadriel and her eyes widened slightly. “We need you there… and your Ring.”

“I must go where I’m needed the most and to defeat Sauron is my only purpose,” she agreed. “However, I am not sure if I am welcome in that place.”

“You are if I say so,” you smirked at her and finally let go of Glûg’s hand when you could feel his blood flowing properly again through his veins and you were sure he would be fine. “I am the Lady of Mordor,” you reminded her.

You were on your way home on the back of your black horse with Adar on the back of his right in front of you and Lady Galadriel still standing by her white mare as Herald Elrond was saying goodbye to her and glancing at you from time to time with a huge amount of distrust.

“We do not hurt our guests in Mordor,” you assured him playfully after a while. “And she will be back with you in one piece soon.”

“Just make sure to answer our calling when we need an Elven army to help us defeat Sauron,” Galadriel took Elrond’s hands into hers and he stopped looking at you to nod at her.

Adar and you exchanged meaningful looks and soft smiles as you led your horse a bit further, so you would stand next to him.

“Are you happy to go back home?” He asked and you nodded.

“More than you can imagine,” you answered and extended your hand towards him as he reached out for you and you squeezed each other’s fingers for a brief while.

You heard Galadriel hopping onto her horse behind you and Adar nodded at the rest of the Orcs, which meant that you all could retreat back to Mordor where you would prepare for Sauron’s comeback with Morgoth’s crown Lady Galadriel with her Ring by your side.

You slowed down your horse to ride next to her now and you both exchanged soft smiles. She had no idea of your history with Sauron – Adar made sure for it to be your secret. However, you had a feeling her soul somehow knew because you could sense a thread of friendship based on a similar experience forming there between you two.

“What will happen to the men from The Southlands, Lady Mother?” She asked you.

“They will be given their homes back. Those who wish to stay in such a dark land at least and the rest are free to go. They will have to learn to share their land with the Uruk now, though,” you answered.

“And what about you? Where will you reside?”

“I was thinking of it,” you looked at her. “I wish to rebuild Ostirith,” you answered. “The fortress might not have been grand but it was my home. I wish to go back there and watch over Mordor from there with my husband like my parents once watched over The Southlands.”

“As King and Queen?” She inquired.

“No,” you shook your head. “That is not my desire. Nor my husband’s.”

Lady Galadriel seemed to be pleased with your answer and you took a deep breath in, looking at the road ahead of you as you felt at peace inside of your heart.

Peace and freedom. You were free of Sauron’s shackles. You no longer had any secrets from your husband or any guilt towards your former lover. Nothing felt better.

You were aware that the war was far from over but you were hopeful about your future and when Adar turned around to make sure you were still there, you smiled at him lovingly, still not being able to believe that he loved you so much to forgive you.

You would make sure to never make him regret that.

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 If you are curious, you can read Sauron's ending as well to see the possibility of what could have been only if our Reader made slightly different choices. If you read both endings, you will see that it was mostly small gestures of kindness and compassion that decided her fate. 💓

MASTERLIST

[amalfamily99n]

Give me your attention, please ✋

My campaign has stagnated💔

I am like you, exactly like you.

I was a successful person in my life; I have always been proud of myself, and my family was proud of me too. I had a life, dreams, and ambitions that I was striving for. My life was full of lectures, volunteering, teaching students, and adventures, but for more thahn 414 days, all of this stopped completely! Can you feel my broken heart? Can you imagine how I feel at this moment? Tell me what I can write for you to feel me and offer help to me and my family by donating and sharing?!

Hello, my name is Amal Ghilan, I am 25 years old, a mother of three children (Abdullah 8 years old, Salwa 6 years old, and the youngest is Nour 9 months old). We were living in a beautiful house full of happiness until this war of extermination came, our house was bombed on the third day of the war (and I was eight months pregnant at the time), our house and car were destroyed 😭

my father-in-law and my husband’s sister were killed, and we lost our only source of income, so we were displaced from one place to another more than once, and I suffered from severe malnutrition during my pregnancy due to the lack of bread until the time came for my delivery, so I did not have a warm crib or even clothes to protect my little girl from the cold of winter 😢, and we were in December, where the journey of childbirth is difficult without medical care, so I left the hospital with my little girl to that damned tent that was eating our bodies from the severity of the cold, as my children did not have warm clothes to relieve them from the bitter cold, and suddenly we saw death with our own eyes from the occupation tanks, so we were forced to move again to Rafah, despite the difficulty of displacement, it is very expensive in addition to the high price All the goods were crazy and we had no source of income which made my children suffer from severe malnutrition. 😔

Then in May we were forced to leave Rafah and go to a shelter school in Al-Maghazi where we lived with 6 families in one classroom. Suddenly the school was bombed and we escaped certain death, so we were forced to move to a tent in the Mawasi area of ​​Khan Yunis where the sun’s rays began to burn our skin and melt our bodies. My children were afflicted with skin diseases and amoebiasis due to the scarcity and scarcity of water and the difficulty of bringing and carrying it from long distances under the scorching sun. And here we are suffering daily inside this hateful tent that does not protect from the heat of the sun or the cold of winter. I hope that you will help me save my children by evacuating them outside of Gaza before it is too late.

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[hailqiqi]

Churned this out in a 30min prompt sprint and thought posting it might be an extra push to get me back into writing more, so here you go.

//Kim & Marinette//Gen//568 words

His footsteps thudded along the pavement, the sound almost drowned out by the constant crashes and yells from behind as Chat Noir tried to stop the akuma following them — Go! he’d all but screamed as soon as the light had flashed — and Kim should really be trying to keep tabs on where the fight in case he needed to duck behind something and hide, he should really be paying more attention to his breathing and making sure he could keep up the pace once the adrenaline faded, he should really be trying to think up of a strategy instead of running blindly in the first direction he’d picked, but his mind was frazzled and all he could think was why did she have to be a designer.

She could have been an artist. A baker. She could have stuck with making dolls and teddy bears, which is why she’d told him she was going to learn to sew way back before he’d stopped talking to her at school in case Chloe saw. Marinette had always been into colours and creating — and wasn’t that ironic — but there’d been so, so many ways she could have taken it.

And yet here he was, cursing every choice he’d never been a part of as he cradled her limp body and ran, hoping desperately that nobody recognised the one-of-a-kind jeans, or flats, or any of her other clothes and accessories, all of which she’d helpfully embroidered with her own monogrammes and motifs to stand out and be recognisable. If somebody did recognise her logos — and there were always people watching and recording akuma attacks, even if you couldn’t see them — Kim just prayed they wouldn’t realise the girl he carried was supposed to be Ladybug.

Scorching heat rent the air next to him, shattering the pavement with a mighty crack as Kim pivoted, barely sparing the akuma a glance as he changed directions without slowing. The next shot was further off the mark, and he clutched Marinette tighter to his chest as he started to zigzag, weaving around cars and debris and back and forth across the narrow road as randomly as he could.

Where was Chat Noir?

There was no time to worry about it.

Blast after blast followed, screams of frustration sounding with each dodge, and really things were worse right now — Max could probably give him some fancy numbers for just how much worse the situation had gotten — but each miss felt like a stroke through the water, pulling him closer and closer towards that Zone where his muscles were pumping and he knew what to do next. Five to the left, six to the right, another two rightwards and then stop and circle back before doing a quick left-right zigzag — be unpredictable. An Uproar with his feet but not his staff. If his time as King Monkey had taught him anything, it was that unpredictability was a powerful tool, was something that could take a hopeless situation and reshape it into something winning.

Kim was comfortable with that kind of unpredictability, at least. Just not the kind where teeny-tiny Marinette — Marinette who’d learnt to wrap dumplings with him, Marinette who’d fought him for trinkets, Marinette who was like a baby sister to him, Marinette who’d had a crush on him, Marinette who’d avoided his eyes and barely spoken to him for all of their second year at college — was Ladybug.

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[moonlight-prose]

sorry for dipping, it will happen again.

[scattered-winter]

brain is oscillating wildly between voltron rwby au and voltron running au but i am writing neither of them </3 and quintenary stars is on the brain always but i'm not writing that either </3

[sluttyten]

😠.

[imaginedisish]

Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself. 

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time. 

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night. 

Or so you thought. 

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?” 

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else��concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?” 

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth. 

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.” 

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head. 

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him. 

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game. 

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy. 

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks. 

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you. 

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask. 

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer. 

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again. 

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.” 

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop. 

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone. 

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask. 

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. 

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?” 

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes. 

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.” 

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people. 

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks. 

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks. 

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly. 

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say. 

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below. 

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on. 

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts. 

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.” 

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts. 

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties. 

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. 

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you. 

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips. 

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit. 

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly. 

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing. 

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. 

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst. 

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.” 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish. 

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming. 

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop. 

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp. 

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release. 

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively. 

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit. 

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist. 

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter one ♡

Summary: Joel Miller has been your best friend for four years, and your trust in him is as solid as ever. However, things go awry one night after a heated argument, and you find yourself in a position you never thought you'd be in: naked, underneath him, with his eyes devouring you like there's no tomorrow. And when you wake up the next morning, you know it right away, reality piercing your chest; things will never be the same again.

Word count: 9.4K

A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!

If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.

You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.

"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.

She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."

"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.

She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."

And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.

He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”

“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”

He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”

You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”

“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”

Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”

“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”

“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”

A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."

You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”

He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.

“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.

You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.

You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.

“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”

It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.

Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.

Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.

You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.

“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.

She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.

“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.

Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”

She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”

“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.

When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.

“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.

He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.

“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.

His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.

That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.

It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”

Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.

One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.

“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.

You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.

"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.

“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.

“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”

Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.

“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”

Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.

In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.

Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”

You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.

“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.

“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"

You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.

“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.

Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.

“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”

*

Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.

“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”

He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.

“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”

The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.

You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.

After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.

Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.

“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.

Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.

He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.

Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.

Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.

Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.

He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.

“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”

“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.

You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.

“How much did you pay for this?”

“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”

“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”

You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.

“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”

“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.

“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”

Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.

“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.

Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.

“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.

Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.

When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”

“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”

But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.

Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?

You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.

You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”

Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”

Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.

You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.

“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”

“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”

He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.

“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.

You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“So, what did you do last night?”

He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”

You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.

Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.

Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 

It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.

“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”

He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.

After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”

The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.

“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”

Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”

“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.

“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”

Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.

“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”

You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.

After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.

“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.

“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”

He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”

And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.

“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”

He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”

“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.

“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.

His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”

Jealous. He thought you were jealous.

He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.

But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.

Honestly, he could go fuck himself.

Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.

“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.

You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.

“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.

He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”

“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”

He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”

Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”

Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.

Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You��d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.

You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”

“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”

“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.

Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.

“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”

“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”

He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”

“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”

Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.

His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”

“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.

He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”

“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.

The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.

“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”

Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.

But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.

Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”

His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.

“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.

But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”

You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.

His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.

“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.

The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.

But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.

With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.

He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.

Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.

Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.

You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 

No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.

You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 

His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.

In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.

You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.

“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.

“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.

His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.

His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.

His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.

He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.

Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.

“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.

He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.

He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.

“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.

His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”

You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.

From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.

Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.

You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.

His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.

With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.

Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.

Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 

There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.

With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.

“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."

You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.

The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.

His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 

You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 

“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.

A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.

Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 

A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.

You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.

And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?

“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”

You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.

His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.

Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.

He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.

He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...

No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.

When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.

Joel was gone.

taglist: @orcasoul

[mattybsgroupie]

homework | matt sturniolo

contents: making out; oral (f receiving); handjob (m receiving); sub!matt

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notes: my plan was to post this during the weekend but im anxious to go back to college and i couldn’t help myself and ended up writing everything yesterday lol very nerdy subby matty receiving his first handjob ♡ as usual not proofread but hope you enjoy it lots! tysm for over 1,1K followers ♡ much much love always!

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i heard three rhythmic knocks on my bedroom door and quickly got up, unlocking it and suddenly bumping into matthew, the smartest guy in my class. matt was clever, but extremely quiet - which only made him more charming. i recalled his ears turning a bright red when i asked him for help with my homework, shyness taking over him as he briefly nodded his head.

“hey!” he greeted me, offering a handshake. i touched his hand, slightly caressing his palm with my index, watching as he tried to look away. “we talked yesterday, about… some lessons? you need help with homework?”

“yes!” i happily agreed, spreading the door open. “come in matt, make yourself comfortable”

matt nodded, holding tightly to the books hidden under his arm. “is it really okay for me to be here?” he chuckled. “i mean… it’s the girls dorm”

“don’t worry about it, boys come here all the time” i winked at matt’s figure, balancing his weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. “unless you… wanna go to the library or something?”

“no!” he eagerly answered. “i-i can teach you here. it’s okay”.

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i wasn’t listening to a single world he said.

matt’s blue eyes underneath the round glasses seemed agitated, following the numbers i had previously written on my notebook. i could see matt’s lips trying to hold a smile at each wrong result, his digits tapping on the yellow pencil between his fingers.

“… so if you divide it by 100, it’s easier to find the percentage” he took me out of my trance, turning his head to stare at me with a confused expression on his face. “am i doing good? are you getting it?”

“you’re doing so good, matt” i let it slip out of my mouth without even thinking, my head resting on my hand while i admired matt’s cheeks flushing red as he gulped. “look at me” i said, raising my finger to his jaw as he tried to look away.

i could feel his breath getting heavier, lips slightly parted as he stood still, not moving an inch. i got closer to him, brushing my lips over his before sealing them together in a small kiss. matt’s hand quickly went to the back of my neck, deepening the pressure of his lips against mine. when i opened my mouth so he could slide his tongue in, matt pulled away - but not far enough, a string of saliva still connecting us to each other.

“i-i’m sorry” he looked at me, panting heavily. “i shouldn’t have done that, i’m really sorry”.

“don’t be” i cupped his cheeks in my palms, giving him a soft peck. “i want it matt, i really do”

“but” he started, eyes traveling through the room, as if he was checking if someone caught us. “i thought y-you wanted to study”

“you already taught me so much” i jokingly pouted, pretending i was tired. the more matt talked, the wetter my panties would get. “why don’t i teach you a few things?” i said, letting one of my hands rest on his thigh.

“like what?” matt asked me hesitantly, looking at how my hand caressed his covered skin. i reached closer to his crotch, accidentally brushing my digits on his half-hard cock, tenting starting to form on his pants.

i smashed our lips together once more, this time hungrier, the wet sounds of our tongues interlocking taking over my dorm. my fingers tangled on matt’s brown curls, carefully pulling his hair so i could get easier access to his neck. i unbuttoned the closed collar of his shirt, traveling down the fabric and repeating the process over and over again.

matt took his glasses off, tossing it over my study table, his hands finally coming to my waist. he didn’t have the courage to tighten his grip and i knew this was the boldest move he’d be able to make, so i grabbed matt’s wrist and brought his palm to my chest, letting him grope my covered tits.

i gasped from the sudden touch, noticing how this made made hesitant to keep kissing me. “a-are you okay?” he asked with puppy, blue eyes.

“yes, fuck- you’re being so good to me”, i sighed heavily and matt nodded eagerly, bringing his mouth to my neck, sucking onto my skin. “what got you so worked up hm?” i asked as i watched his pants getting tighter, fully hard cock.

“fuck! i’m sorry- i didn’t even notice” matt looked down, eyes widening. “you’re just so pretty” he confessed.

“you’re so cute, matt. do you want me to help you out?” i asked, palming him over his jeans.

“please” he let out in a choked moan, “please touch me”

the grin on my face grew wide as matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, trying to cover his soft whimpers as i kept on stroking his clothed cock.

i unzipped his jeans, sneaking my fingers into his underwear so i could pull out matt’s dick, which quickly sprung against my palm, almost hitting his own belly. matt adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs apart as his mouth hang open. i finally got a proper grip of his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his surprisingly large cock.

matt let out a loud groan when i finally started twisting my hand, lifting his left arm to cover his own face. “why are you so shy, baby?” i whispered in his ear.

“n-never… never done that” matt said, squirming on his sit as i pumped him.

“never had a girl touching you like that?” i cooed, watching matt nodding vigorously. “it’s okay, i promise it’s gonna feel good”

“it- mhm- feels good!” he bucked his hips forward when i moved my thumb upwards, circling his leaking tip. “i’m not g-gonna last long” matt said as i tightened the grasp on his length. he kept on jointing his hips, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace.

“you wanna cum for me, matt? wanna show how much of a good boy you are?” i kissed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his red ear, continuously jerking him off.

“fuck, please!” he said, the loudest he’d been the entire night. “i’m your good boy! wanna cum, p-please”

“go ahead” i allowed him, peppering pecks on his damp forehead, sweat dripping from his neck all the day down to his tummy, which was soon painted white from matt’s release. he threw his head back, whimpering as he came on my hand, thick spurt messing us both. 

i got up to wash my hands and grab him a towel, letting matt rest as he came from his high, chest still rising rapidly.

“thank you” he mumbled when i offered to clean him up. “i’m sorry i made such a mess” matt chuckled, watching as i wiped his cum off. “don’t apologize, you did really well babyboy” i praised.

“can… can i try?” he asked me, reaching for his glasses over the table. he quickly put them on again, reading my confused expression. “i wanna make you feel good too” matt said, turning his body to face me.

“you want me to teach you how to please a girl?” i teased him, bringing both of my legs to my chest, exposing the back of my thighs to him.

matt checked me out from head to toe, stopping where my feet landed and not being able to take his eyes off the panties i purposely wore. i knew he’d love pink. “no, not any girl. you- wanna be good for you” he confessed, sliding off his chair and kneeling on the ground.

i widened my eyes, not expecting matt’s sudden move. he touched the hem of my shorts, silently asking me to take them off. i quickly removed it, letting it slide down my legs along with my panties, fully exposing my pussy to him.

“oh, fuck” he mumbled. “it’s so pretty and it’s… it’s all wet”

“you did that to me” i told him, moving my hair to the side so i could get a better look of matt eating me out for the first time.

“how should i do it?” he asked, blue eyes looking for reassurance. my hands went to his brown curls, bringing his face closer to my crotch.

matt stuck his tongue out, slowly licking my lower lips. he widened his eyes once again, probably surprised by the taste and gave it another try as i giggled at his shy performance. matt’s large hands went to my thighs, forcing my legs open as he fully went for it, pressuring a kiss against my clit. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me, spit drooling down his chin as he licked me in the messiest, sloppiest way.

“matt” i called but he didn’t even listen, still eating me out, only raising his eyebrows as he looked at me through his glasses. “you never done this before?” i sighed deeply, tangling my fingers on his hair as i lowered my hips on him.

matt hummed something, probably agreeing with what i had asked, but this only send a wave of vibrations through my folds, my thighs suddenly closing around his head as i felt my orgasm approaching. he was way too good for a virgin.

“matt- fuck!” i moaned loudly, the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “i’m gonna cum!” i warned as he was about the have a taste for the first time. he moved downwards and started to tease my entrance, his tongue pushing inside my slit as i kept on moving my hips, practically humping his face.

matt continued to eat me out as my orgasm washed over me, making me throw my head back and my body tremble due the overstimulation. i had to pull his hair so he’d remove himself from me, watching his swollen lips covered with my cum. matt licked my release and went back to my thighs, biting my bare skin. “enough, baby” i moaned, feeling his hands holding me in place. “matthew, i said enough”.

he groaned in protest, not wanting to stop. matt gave a few more kisses down my legs, pulling away and staring at me with puppy eyes. i caressed his brown strands, soon cupping his cheeks and sealing our lips. “you did really well for a first time, matt” i thanked him as he got up, sliding his jeans back on.

“so…” he started. “i’m guessing you gave up on your homework?”

“of course not” i rolled my eyes, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “i’m gonna need this good boy to help me every week”.

- ♡ -

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for this fic: @sturnstar169 @anitahunt333 @mattgirl4lyfe @fratboychrisera

[monstersflashlight]

If I'm not pushing my luck, can you write something about you being the first hairy person that an elf has been with? Cause I was thinking about it and what if the first human(s) they've been with all shaved and they thought it was standard for us like it was for them, having no hair and all? I really do think they would be both confused and very curious/enthusiastic about it. And what if you were a bit self conscious about it too? 😪 Thank you I'm in love with your stories!!

Hi there! For everyone who hastn't read it, here's the question that started this idea. Enjoy!

Full bush

Elf x fem!reader || oral sex, pussy worship, body hair appreciation

When you got together you thought he already knew all he needed to know about humans. He was with a couple humans before you, two males and one female, so you thought he already knew... But you were wrong.

First time he saw you naked he stared. And stared. And stared some more to the point you got self conscious about it and ended up putting your clothes back on. You slept very unconfortab that night, and he said nothing. You might have cried a tiny bit. Next day he stared at you even with your clothes on, his eyes fixated in your genitals as you looked at him like he was the weird one (which he was). Later that day he broke down and asked you why did you have hair, if it was some kind of birth defect. You almost threw him out the house, but you breathed deeply and proceeded to explain to him that humans had body hair, that it was normal. He then explained that his previous humans had shaved or something because they were as hairless as elves and that's why he was so surprised when you took off your clothes. You understood his reasoning, but you were still a bit self-conscious, human culture already told you it was bad for you to have body hair, but you weren't about to let your elf boyfriend get away with it, too.

So you didn't take your clothes in front of him. Every time you slept together you put your pj's, not looking at him, and went to sleep with that. You weren't a fan of sleeping with clothes, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. You could feel him hard behind you, but you weren't ready to face that disappointment and staring at your full bush.

But he wasn't having any of that.

By the fifth time you stayed at his house, he stopped you as you were getting undressed. You looked up at him in surprise, just to see his face flushed and a big tent in his sweatpants. "I- I want to see you," he stuttered.

"What?" You asked, your shirt halfway up your torso.

"I- I want to see your body hair," he confessed in a low tone. He looked so cute at the moment, but you were so fucking confused. You thought he hated your body hair.

You couldn't get the surprise out of your voice: "You do?"

"Yes. I- I liked it." He grabbed his dick and readjusted it, the tip pocking at the waistband of his sweatpants. Your mouth was salivating just looking at him shirtless and with those sinful grey sweatpants.

"You liked it?" You asked, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.

"Very much so..." He said, lowering his pants to let you see his erection already leaking profusely. You licked your lips and got undressed.

He stared and stared, and when your panties were finally on the ground, he licked his lips like you were his next snack. And good goddess if you weren't. He threw you on the bed and went down on you for hours. Your legs trembling around his head as he went to town and told you how great you were, how good you tasted and how glad he was that he discovered you had body hair. He sounded mesmerized by the fact and it made you blush as hard as ever as you came against his lips again.

By the time he was done, there was a pool of your juices under you and his face was completely drenched, but what surprised you more was the puddle of cum under him. You asked and he blushed hard, running to the bathroom to get you a towel.

Later, you discovered that he got so excited about you and your body hair and your pussy that he came at least four times while he ground against the mattress and eat you out. It was so hot thinking he got so worked up just by you being you that you had to push him down and blow him until he was crying.

You've never been so glad of his elf stamina.

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (X – SAURON)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST ALTERNATIVE ENDING (ADAR)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You already made your decision to remain by Adar's side but your former lover has different plans.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — First of all, thank you so much for your comments under every part and your support because this fic (and this fandom) was what brought back my joy for writing! 😊 I am aware most of you wants to see The Reader from this fic with Adar but I still wanted to let you make a choice and I had an idea for this storyline either way, so... 🤷🏻‍♀️ The very cold line Some are born for sacrifice is taken from another fantasy TV show – The Shannara Chronicles. 😅 I loved while watching the show and I remembered about it while writing this story. I think it suits. 🤐 This part is more canon-like than the alternative ending where The Reader chooses Adar tbh.

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS 💀

WORD COUNT — 4,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (X – SAURON)

You spent the rest of the day and half of the night inside the forest, in your new favourite place, feeling uneasy. Alone, just in case Sauron wanted to reach out to you again. But he was not making such attempts and it was making you anxious more than ever. His wrath was something you did not want to experience yourself and you knew very well that you had earned it.

Nervously fidgeting with the wedding band around your finger, you were sitting there by the fallen tree and listening to the sounds of the battle taking place nearby. Once more, you felt like sneaking back into the camp, stealing your own horse and running away to some place where no one knew you. But you knew you could not. You had to face the consequences of your actions.

Eventually, you took a deep breath in and decided to find Adar. You needed him close to feel safe and secure again because your anxiety was growing bigger and bigger with each given moment.

You found him near your shared tent, surrounded by the Orcs, small fires to light the path and all the war machines that made you realise how truly close you were to the battle indeed and how serious the situation was.

As you were approaching Adar from one side, you spotted Glûg walking up to him from the opposite one, with some of his friends standing behind as if they were waiting for him to speak to their Lord Father in the name of them all.

“Lord Father,” Glûg started just when you stood next to your husband and wrapped your trembling hands around his arm, happy that he was still there; that Sauron’s rage had not taken him away from you just yet. “The wall is stronger than we thought,” Glûg continued with his head slightly bowed down. “We may not breach it before morning. The Elf is faring better than you expected,” he added. “His troops have already destroyed five of our trebuchets. Many Uruk are dying,” he emphasised, his voice filled with pain and fear. “What are your orders, Lord Father? Shall we sound retreat?”

“No,” Adar’s answer was quick, nearly harsh. It caused a shiver to go down your spine as you watched with interest the conversation between him and his son. “Sauron must not escape,” Adar stated and turned around in your direction, putting his arm around your back to walk you inside the tent. “Bring down that wall. At any cost,” he added.

“Adar!” Glûg exclaimed and you exchanged a meaningful look with your husband. There was desperation but also a hint of disappointment mixed with anger in the Orc’s voice. You both froze and turned around to face him once more. “You told us… You loved us,” Glûg reminded his father in the Black Speech and your heart clenched inside your chest at his words that you could understand perfectly well now.

“With all that is left of my heart,” Adar answered with pain but also determination in his voice. Too much to let you become Sauron’s slaves.”

There was no answer from Glûg or any of the Orcs, so Adar left your side and went inside the tent. You hesitated at the sight of their faces, though. Their expressions did not mean anything good but you had no idea how you could fix it.

Either way, it was an argument between the Orcs and their Lord Father. You were not a side in this conflict. Therefore, you turned around and followed your husband inside the tent.

When you looked around, you spotted that he was angry and crouching down next to a few dead bodies of the Orcs. Lady Galadriel was not around.

“She’s still in the camp. Find her!” He barked at a few Orcs coming inside after you and they nodded before running out.

“What happened?” You asked.

“She escaped,” Adar stood up and showed you a small Elven key Galadriel had to use to get out of her shackles. Suddenly, you realised what Herald Elrond had done while kissing her. He had managed to distract everyone from the fact he had handed her his brooch with a hidden item inside.

“Smart,” you admitted and tilted your head but Adar was not impressed.

“You were supposed to watch over her,” he reminded you, harshly.

“Me?” You were surprised at his words. “I know that you are nervous because the battle is not going the way you planned and I agree with Glûg that we should retreat and go back home but that is no reason for you to take it out on me,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth.

Adar did not say anything to that as he gave you a scolding look and left the tent in a hurry, leaving you speechless. However, not even a minute passed and he was back.

“Forgive me,” he said and extended his hand towards yours. “I might die today and I do not want to leave this world knowing that the very last thing we did was to argue,” he admitted and you sighed, approaching him.

You ignored his extended hand because you threw your arms around his neck instead and you hugged him tight before taking a small step back and cupping his face in your hands.

“Do not say such things, please,” you pleaded and cracked a nervous smile before joining your lips together to kiss him softly before you eventually let him go to join his children.

The battle was getting worse and more ferocious but you remained inside your tent, nervously patting the surface of the wooden table with your fingers. Then, suddenly, angry Glûg entered the tent without even announcing himself. You turned around, surprised and raised an eyebrow at him.

“My Lady,” he bowed his head very slightly, nearly lazily, which was quite uncommon for him.

“What is it, dear?” You tried to be more lighthearted.

“I come to you because Adar remains deaf to my pleas,” Glûg sighed, still standing near the entrance of the tent as if he was scared of approaching you.

“What pleas, Glûg? He will not agree to go back home. Believe me, I’ve tried,” you rolled your eyes slightly and Glûg squinted his small eyes at you.

“That I know, my Lady,” he nodded. “He has just ordered to send the troll in.”

“And what about it?�� You inquired. “Have we not brought that filthy creature here to use him in battle?”

“He is killing our own kind!” Glûg tried to protest and you pursed your lips after realising how delicate the situation was indeed.

“I understand,” you nodded and stood up finally to approach him. “However, you must trust your Lord Father’s orders. Some battles require smaller losses to win the big thing in the end. I have lost a lot myself. I have lost things you have no idea of, Glûg,” you only said and he growled but then he looked down at your scolding expression. “We all have a part to play,” you added. “Some are born for sacrifice.”

Glûg looked up at your face as if he was scared of you. Perhaps he was but you were not given more time with him because he left the tent in a hurry. You sighed and went back on the chair. Everything was a mess and you just wanted the battle to be over. The worst thing was the uncertainty.

When the dawn came, you could no longer stay in one place. You left the tent and went deeper into the forest to hide between the tall trees. But instead of going straight to your favourite place, you took a small detour, trying to calm down your pounding heart and your shaky breath.

Your mind was plagued with all the things you could have done differently. You could have told Adar back in Mordor that Halbrand was Sauron. You could have slaughtered him yourself with Morgoth’s crown. You had known then, after all, where Adar was keeping it. You could have discouraged your husband instead of encouraging him when it came to the matter of attacking Eregion.

So many things you could have done differently but you had been blinded by Sauron and his empty promises.

You reached the cliff and there you could witness the true image of what you had caused – burning Eregion, one of the most beautiful Elven cities… now fallen. Your eyes welled with tears but could you really blame yourself? It was all him – Sauron.

“I have promised you, have I not?” His voice filled your head that very moment. You turned around but no one was there as your heart skipped a beat. His voice was overlooming and malicious – he was angry with you and you could feel it despite the physical distance.

“Promised me what?” You asked, angrily.

“I have promised I would destroy them all. All the beautiful Elven cities you felt so small compared to. Mithlond, Eregion… I have promised that you would watch them burn,” Sauron reminded you.

“You have promised me I would watch them burn with a crown upon my head,” you gritted your teeth.

“And you promised me you would bring me the very crown and put it onto my head. Back in Mordor, when I was your prisoner. How sweet you were to me then,” Sauron answered, his voice filled with sinister irony.

“Leave me,” you shook your head and shut your eyes close, letting the warm tears stream down your cheeks.

“You have outdone yourself, I must admit, my love. You might have earned my forgiveness with the army you brought me,” he whispered before leaving your mind as you had requested.

You took a deep breath in and opened your eyes rapidly.

Adar.

You had to find him. You had to find him now.

You gathered your skirts and ran back inside the forest, through the trees and the hidden paths you were able to see perfectly well because of your Elven heritage. Your ancestors had been running through forests like this one – maybe even the same woods. It was in your blood to be able to swiftly move through the trees.

In no time you found yourself in your favourite spot by the fallen tree where the sunlight was creeping in. And as you circled around, wondering where to go, you overheard glimpses of conversations. You immediately recognised your husband’s voice but also… Lady Galadriel’s?

With a furrowed brow, you followed the voices and found yourself approaching a small forest clearing with a stone circle, which had most likely been made by your kin back in the First Age. In the very centre of it stood the biggest stone and Morgoth’s crown was placed upon it.

Your husband was approaching Lady Galadriel and handing her back a Ring – you assumed he had managed to get the one forged by Lord Celebrimbor for her. And the power of this item you could feel even there, hidden between the trees. It was vibrating with pure light and chiming with a beautiful, Elven song.

And Adar’s face was different. It was… Healed. You gasped and took a step ahead but when he turned his face back at you, you could see the scars appearing once more because the Ring was now back on Lady Galadriel’s finger.

“We must go,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as you approached them. “We must go back home. Please,” you grabbed him by his sleeve. “I beg of you,” you added, not caring much about your pride anymore. You didn’t even mind Lady Galadriel’s curious gaze.

“On the contrary,” Adar smiled softly and caressed your cheek. “We have just made ourselves a deal with the Elves” he told you and you furrowed your brows before laying your eyes on Galadriel. She smiled nervously at you. “Together, we might destroy Sauron.”

Hope bloomed deep inside of you once more at his words. You cracked a smile at Galadriel, too.

“Thank you,” you breathed out to her.

But despite all of that, you had a feeling that something was not right. It was too easy. Sauron would never let it happen and he would surely predict it.

“We shall create a lasting peace in Middle-earth,” Adar added and you squeezed his arm tighter, lovingly. “Now and forever.”

You knew that deep down that was all he had ever wanted – for his children to have their own land and live there peacefully as he would watch over them. And you would, too. By his side. You smiled to yourself.

Your small moment of blissfulness was interrupted by a few Orcs carrying Glûg on the stretchers. His face was wincing out of pain and he seemed to be hurt. Adar left your side immediately and you stood there with Galadriel while you observed.

“What happened?” Adar kneeled down to check on his son.

“We found Sauron, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs explained and you moved uncomfortably at that mention. “He tried to make Glûg betray you, but he resisted. So, Sauron did this. The others are pursuing him now.”

“Forgive me, child,” Adar whispered to Glûg.

You wanted to go to him, too but you tilted your head instead when you realised that the rest of the Orcs were not kneeling by their dying brother’s side. No, they were keeping a fair distance as they formed a circle around Adar and Glûg, with their hands close to the hilts of their weapons.

“Adar…” You called his name. “My love, can you come back to me?” You reached out to him with your hand carefully as it trembled.

But he did not listen to you because, at that moment, his son’s pain was his priority.

“It’s too late…” Glûg groaned.

“It’s never too late,” Adar insisted. “Not even for me. And not for you, my son.”

“Adar…!” You insisted but you were ignored once more and tears filled your eyes. You even took a small step closer even though at that moment, you were not sure anymore if you could keep trusting the Orcs.

“It’s too late…” Glûg whimpered as if he was dying and a short moment after you watched in terror how he pierced Adar’s side with his blade.

You shouted and reached for your sword without thinking twice about whether your abilities were enough or not to fight them but when you were about to charge at the Orcs attacking your husband and him not even trying to defend himself… you were stopped.

A hand on your shoulder.

You looked around and saw Sauron’s face so close to yours that you gasped. He had a new form once again but this time it did not differ so much from the previous one. He was a blond Elf now, radiating light and wisdom. A blasphemous image, surely.

His eyes in that moment were nothing but two dark abysses as he was looking you up and down with pure hatred and curiosity.

“Let go of her!” Lady Galadriel ordered and you nearly chuckled at how naive she could be.

“She is exactly where she is supposed to be. By my side,” Sauron smirked and you turned your head around once more to glance at your husband.

Adar was laying on the ground now but he was still alive enough to see. You tried to get free from Sauron’s grasp and he surprisingly allowed it.

There was no point of fighting the Orcs now – there were too many of them. And perhaps some part of you wished for them to do to your body the same thing they had done to your husband. So, you tossed aside Morgoth’s sword because it would only slow you down and you hurried to Adar’s side as you kneeled by him and sobbed.

“Please, stop!” You begged the Orcs but they ignored you. Yet, their blades made sure to not even scratch you as they were piercing through Adar. “Please…” You begged and begged as Adar laid his blue eyes filled with sadness on your face. “My love, please, forgive me… Please…” You caressed his cheeks and his hair as your tears were falling down upon his face. “You can’t die thinking I did not love you. I am so sorry… So, so sorry…”

Sauron approached you all, which caused the Orcs to retreat. You noticed he was holding Morgoth’s crown now in his hand. They were standing in a circle above you and you were kneeling down, holding Adar’s dying body, sobbing and looking up at your corrupted lover.

“Please…” You whispered. “I love him,” you told Sauron.

But Sauron did not react. He only watched with a twisted satisfaction and you squeezed Adar’s cold hand. You felt his fingers trying to squeeze back yours, which only made you sob even more.

“My… children…” He looked at you as he breathed out in the Black Speech.

“They are not children anymore,” Sauron informed him and you shot him a deadly glance. Glûg was standing right next to him and your pain mixed with anger at the thought that it was him out of them all who had betrayed your husband.

“I forgive you,” Adar told you in the Quenya language now and your heart skipped a beat. “I love you.”

You were too heartbroken to say anything to that but you knew that he knew how much you loved him, too. And you knew he understood why you had done all those things – he understood what it meant to be under Sauron’s spell.

Sauron put his hand upon your shoulder and moved you away slightly to make more space for Glûg to finish Adar off with one final stroke as he yelled and you sobbed.

When the fallen Elves die, where do they go?

“What orders, Lord Sauron?” Glûg asked Sauron as all the Orcs bowed down. The very moment their Lord Father let out his last breath.

Crying silent tears, nothing but hatred grew and grew inside of your heart for them now. They were just like everyone had been saying – vile and cruel. They did not know anything about love or loyalty.

They did not deserve Adar.

You did not deserve Adar.

“Raze Eregion,” Sauron ordered but you couldn't care less about anything else now. All that mattered was your husband, laying there dead. You were still squeezing his hand. “Leave no Elf alive but bring me their leaders.”

“Hail Sauron! Hail the new Dark Lord!” Glûg shouted in the Black Speech and the rest followed, screaming it over and over.

In the meantime, you caressed Adar’s face and wiped the black blood streaming down his chin from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. You fixed his hair delicately and closed his eyelids and it nearly looked like he was asleep.

The Orcs finally ran away, passing you by. Sauron kept staring at you with contempt and you looked up with hatred.

“I will be back,” he smirked and walked away to join Lady Galadriel since the business between them was surely not over yet. You watched with gritted teeth how he picked up your sword and claimed it as his.

And, once more, you found yourself not caring. Because it did not matter, after all. Nothing mattered and you felt nothing, too. You were empty.

Sauron and Galadriel began their duel but you did not watch. She hurried away into the forest and Sauron followed her and now all you could hear was the sound of clinking metal.

“Sleep, my dear,” you whispered as you looked down at Adar’s peaceful face and caressed his hair. “Sleep, you deserve it,” you added with a trembling voice.

Your hands went lower to his own because you wanted to take the wedding ring off of his finger to keep it. You did so and then you reached with your fingers inside his sleeve and you sobbed more after finding there the leaves of the holy trees you had married under.

“Oh, Adar…” You lowered yourself to press your forehead to his. “Thank you for everything.”

He was the very first who had shown you love and given you power. You missed him already – his soft smiles at you, the brushes of his fingertips upon your cheeks, his rough voice, his usual calmness, his wisdom. His respect towards you and how safe he was able to make you feel. That you just knew he would never harm you – his wife.

You did not know how much time had passed but you were sitting there without moving an inch, holding Adar’s body close and feeling how his body was slowly getting colder and colder.

Familiar footsteps brought you back to reality. Sauron, wielding your sword in one hand and Morgoth’s crown in another with Galadriel’s blood dripping down from its iron spikes as you looked up to see his angry face.

“She refused you once more,” you pointed out, bitterly. “So you’re back to me. What would you do if she said yes? Would I join my husband in death then?” You asked, calling Adar your husband to spite him.

“She said no and I am here,” Sauron clenched his jaw. “What would you do if he was alive?” He asked and your expression changed because, sadly, he had a point.

He had betrayed you but you had betrayed him, too. It was only fair. But just like you had feared his wrath – perhaps he should fear yours, too. That would be fair as well.

“He is dead and I am here,” you caressed Adar’s cheek one last time and stood up to be on Sauron’s level. “Give me back my sword,” you reached out with your hand but there was no reaction from him. “It was not a plea. The sword is mine, so is Mordor and so is the army. I have earned them,” you stated, harshly and Sauron let out a contemptuous laugh. “The Lady of Light did not follow you and you were a fool for thinking she would even consider it,” you added and Sauron’s laughter stopped in an instant as he shot you a deadly glance.

He could not threaten you with death, though, because it would only mean a reunion with Adar, therefore you did not fear it anymore.

“Only I am rotten enough to follow you, Sauron,” you pointed out, bitterly. “Perhaps all of this had to happen for us to finally realise that we are cursed with one another,” you continued and walked past Adar’s body to get your sword from Sauron’s hands yourself. He allowed you to but he kept watching you closely. “We are doomed to walk side by side, my love,” you whispered but your words were malicious.

You looked deep into his scary eyes although you were sure yours were just as terrifying at that moment. And when you were getting the sword from him, your hands joined together for a moment as you two froze like that.

You hated and despised him. He had betrayed you. And yet, it was true that you had to be doomed to be with him because, still, you felt attracted to him. Still, you would follow him wherever he would go now.

You had nowhere else to go anyway.

“I rue the day I met you,” you told him in Black Speech, “shadow of Morgoth.”

Those words visibly angered him as he tilted his head with a smirk.

“If I am nothing but his shadow, what does that make you? You are merely made in the image of me,” Sauron remarked.

“No, I am my own self. My own person. My own soul with my own desires,” you raised your head high. “If I am to follow you, it will be on different terms this time. It will be as your equal,” you insisted.

“What use are you to me except for warming my bed?” Sauron grabbed you by your chin as he brought your face closer and his hot breath fanned over your skin.

“What use are you to me except for warming mine?” You answered, calmly.

Your spat was interrupted by Glûg himself who ran up to you with one of his friends. At the sight of him, Sauron let go of your chin and you both turned around to face the Orcs.

“We are overwhelmed, Lord Sauron!” Glûg exclaimed after approaching you two and you kept staring at him with nothing but pure hatred and disgust. Like he deserved to be treated after everything he had done. “The Dwarves are securing the Elves’ retreat,” he shook his head, nervously.

Sauron said nothing and kept staring at the Orc with a puzzled expression, surprised that he even dared to file such a complaint. Glûg laid his small and pleading eyes on you as he bowed down.

“If we pursue, many Uruks will die, Lady Mother,” he addressed you and his words caused your jaw to clench as blood boiled in your veins.

“Do not call me that,” you scolded him, harshly, as you glanced briefly at your husband’s dead body before looking back at the Orc. “I have no love for you,” you told him and Glûg’s eyes widened. “You have betrayed the only person who was able to love your filthy kin,” you added and you made your point very clear to the rest by piercing your sword right through him.

And what a satisfaction it brought you to watch him choke on it when it was him who had betrayed your husband the most. You twisted the blade and retreated it as Glûg fell down on the ground and curled up to die.

“What are you staring at?” You barked at his shocked and terrified friend. “Go back and fight!” You ordered and he ran away.

Short silence occurred between you and Sauron. When you finally broke it by sighing and turning around to walk away slightly, you felt his hands on your wrists, pulling you closer once more. His face was right in front of yours but this time there was no threat in them and they were no black abysses anymore but a beautiful shade of green.

However, you moved away.

“I want to give my husband a proper burial,” you crouched down next to Adar’s body. “Then I can go with you.”

You formed the funeral pyre yourself in that favourite spot of yours by the fallen tree. It took you a whole day since you were carefully choosing the best branches to do so. And it was you without anyone’s help moving Adar’s body on top of it. When you were able to finally light the fire, it was dark already but you knew he would prefer it this way.

You hesitated while carrying the torch because you knew that burning him was a definite act. He would be no more. Not even his flesh.

Yet, you couldn’t leave him behind to rot.

“In flames he returns to darkness,” you whispered in the Black Speech and lit the pyre before taking a step back and watching it burn.

You were so cried out that only one single tear streamed down your cheek and you did not even bother to wipe it.

A quiet sound of the footsteps made you realise that Sauron joined you but you did not look back. You knew he made that slight noise with the purpose of letting you know he was there, so you ignored him purposefully, too.

“You, Elves, you marry once in a lifetime, do you not?” He stood right behind you and you sighed at the irony in his voice.

“We do,” you nodded as you played nervously with the contents of your pocket – two wedding rings and the leaves of the holy trees. “But in the eyes of the Valar, we are married. You and I,” you turned your head around to look at his devilishly handsome face being lit by the light from the dancing flames. “I have given myself to you out of my own free will and during our first night together I became your wife,” you reminded him, bitterly. “You have many brides, though, am I right, Lord Sauron?”

He did not answer as he kept staring at the flames but he put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you a bit closer to him.

“None of them as terrific as you,” he confessed with a hint of admiration and leaned in to place a kiss upon your temple.

His words were like venom – treacherous and infectious. You liked to think that you were immune now to him and his craft but perhaps you had overestimated your own self.

You turned your head around and your noses brushed softly as you gave in and opened your lips to welcome his hungry kiss.

“My Dark Lady of Mordor,” he whispered between the kisses. “Commander of my Army. My Queen.”

His Queen. Everything you had once wanted and now you had it.

But what a price you had to pay for it.

What a price indeed… To find out that you had a heart hidden in there despite it all – only for it to die and rot shortly after.

And whatever was left of it, Sauron had a tight hold on it.

“Your Queen,” you cracked a sad smile and let go of the wedding rings and the leaves inside your pocket to raise your hand and caress his smooth cheek. “Your malediction.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 If you are here for angst, then I think reading Adar's ending might make it worse for you because it shows you the possibility of what could have been only if our Reader made slightly different choices. If you read both endings, you will see that it was mostly small gestures of kindness and compassion that decided her fate. 💓

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