#i never fucking talk about some of my muses and hes one of them So BHKYUTRB

[quillheel]

god. my favorite thing with my version of Ganondorf is his power not quite being a plague but rather a permanence.

his hands brushing reeds and it turns white as though shocking its color from its fiber, a field of silver left where he walks for generations that grows in on itself, out on itself, learning to live regardless. an insect swarm comes to him and leaves him with a violent coordination of those minds altered. punished or blessed beasts finding their eyes seeing a kind of sight they were not born with but given, rewired, cats given a dogs eyes, dogs given crows. he takes the quill and its ink and the ink writes itself into the essence of its parchment like an oath, an oath to stay, a promise on a future it is determined to stay in at his word, at his command. he may be corruption he may be ancient upon evil upon spite that does not die; that cannot die; but he is a memory you cannot get rid of, a history that aches in the bones of the land, a monument unmovable.

he is a bitter loathed selfish truth but you cannot make him pretty, you cannot make him gone. a lesson to keep learning. a person immortalized without body, without name. he inhales and you hold your breath. he speaks and you listen. he exhales and you see the world change. his personhood will never outlast him, who he is a footnote on a list of unimaginable enormities, but his single presence is a fact in a sea of shining lies. he is not pretty, but he has always been beautiful.

you who will not love him, but you who will know he was here. where you are. a hundred years ago. a hundred years ahead.

you tell him to apologize for his own birth, and he laughs, and says I was born, and you will be born knowing me, and you will die knowing me. the way gods are legend. the way he is history.

[faultedloyalty]

The speed in which he has to turn his amusement into faux-apology cannot be understated; though the way in which the young man’s reactions serve only to further bring him closer to something like elation cannot be, either! Perhaps it’s merely his age, but from their severity to their depths, he finds that his baser urges to toy with those lesser than himself are growing. They are, of course, overwhelmingly easy to keep at bay—he has practiced, he has lived, too long to be any other way—but the fact that he has to acknowledge them at all on his own is exceedingly rare.

Not that he is one to ignore his own whims, either, however.

“So many apologies you need not make; truly, just what kind of butler am I?” Another melodramatic sigh, another shake of his head, follows in the wake of his own bastard-conceived plot and results. “Though I must apologize once more, myself, for inadvertently insulting your acquaintances.” For if they are neither friends nor anyone he considers worthy of such a word... “I meant no harm, of course, but I fear I spoke too impulsively. Such is a failing of my own, unfortunately—

“I must admit that I do take heart in knowing you bear confidence-enough to correct me, however.”

For that, too, was amusing in and of itself—despite the irresolute clamber in which young Daisuke speaks his words, the fact that he speaks them at all is enough to make him want to chuckle. Companionship was of no use to himself, but the lengths in which those who find it so go to have others speak no ill-will of them, even when it was unsure, served to interestingly confuse him always.

“It is quite clear that they are of great import to you,” he continues on easily, belying his thoughts, “in spite of how little you know of them personally. Does not speaking of them in such a way also speak in turn, however, not just to their skills but to what skills they have imparted to you, as well?”

Even if mere beginner-work from another teenager, knowledge would forever be knowledge; “To gain any sort of understanding over the simplest of details is enough to learn the complex natures of this world, after all. One might argue that this is needed to do so, as what one might think of as a basis—though I dare not do so in my position, of course.”

(His position for the moment, at least, but there was little need to fret over frivolous details such as those, right then. He merely needs them known, still.)

“Special qualities or lack thereof aside, as well—and so long as I am permitted to say so—at the very least I find myself thrilled to find your art of quite the noticeable talent, already.”

And there he goes to demonstrate—flipping through pages quickly, though keeping a thumb on the one he had scribbled on himself, with that self-satisfied smile! He doesn’t go far, and he isn’t even looking at it, but even this serves more to try for a reaction than anything else!

“It is clear that you don’t lack an eye for details,” he speaks as the pages turn, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, “and neither is there lack of intent behind your work! Really, this is more than enough to warrant an impart of your knowledge to myself, as the less-experienced artist, but I suppose...”

Just as quickly as he’d begun flipping through pages does he close them back up, keeping only the one he’d utilized himself open for the book’s owner to see. In the same breath, he holds it back out for the young man; silent encouragement that he is to, finally, take his own look at what Sebastian had done.

“Relieving as it is to hear that my work shan’t be considered by one who is, at heart, ‘really mean’, I do urge you to give your most honest opinion. Shall my skills be lacking, I will endeavour to improve as quickly as I am able.”

Though he can already guess a few ways this is about to go—but he’s curious to see which of them will occur, as well, so there’s no need to continue stalling.

' i-infamy ?! '

the word seems to instantly jolt him . close to hives , his skin prickling , every thin hair on his arm swift to stand up straight on end . a word like infamy ... was really bad , wasn't it ?! ( like horrible , like heinuous , like --- dark . )

' n-no ! it's not like that or anything ! like hiwatari-kun and sagami-sensei , i mean --- er , u-um ... ' would someone like sebastian have been able to recognize any of these names ? arrive , vanish , do everything in a blink and leave nary so much as a single trace behind --- his family had instructed him over and over to be capable of severing any sort of loose strings in the midst of plotted , robbing act .

( why dare to admire his enemies , anyways ? )

was it too simple , too laughable , that just because he wanted to think they were friends ... no , that because he just wanted to somehow be friends them , that he should have therefore made every effort to be kind , and speak up in their defense ? even knowing that they might never have done the same for him , or for his far more rotten , wretched parts .

' t-they're not that bad , i mean ... i don't think infamous is a good word for them ... ' though , maybe and maybe not . before the hikari alone , what other artists played god , to the extent that their creations came to life out of nothing but the meager likes of stone , paint and wax ? man's first golems and homonculi , created in the perverse shape of themselves : both infinitely beautiful and hideous .

their broach of every natural law and order could have lent itself to their infamy , if only what vicious storms of emotion surrounding their works didn't coil about them like the still , untouchable calm of an eye of a storm . and there , braving the cuts and razor , racing edge of the roughest winds , was the black half of the kokuyoku ... what black wings even now remained bound to his body .

' ... i'm sorry . ' trailing away , clutching to himself at his hands , daisuke's will shrinks and relents , wilting meekly beneath the other's blase accusations . certainly , he feels every invisible pressure like a block of lead , hitching his shoulders high in a hopeless defense against what felt like , polite and composed as it was , an adult's chide .

' i don't ... actually know if i'm really friends with any of them . i only sort of know them , so i didn't think anything was that interesting to talk about --- um , hiwatari-kun is the same age as me , and he's the one who comes from a really family . the hikari ? their artworks always end up in museums and stuff , they've been making masterpieces for over four hundred years . i've only really learned a few things about ... um , shadows and circles from him , though ... '

embarrassing basics that anyone , even a toddler should have been able to comprehend .

' sagami-sensei was a sculptor , and someone who won top prizes every year in azumano ... our standards for art are the highest in japan , so it was a big deal when he was going to start teaching part-time . but then he quit right after his practice internship and decided to go back to art --- ' cheeks flush and he laughs ; he doesn't dare to pry at sebastian's turn , deeply curious as he remained to the other's work . ' he was really cool . he always seemed to know what he was doing when he was making art , hiwatari-kun too , i think . i'm not really anything special , especially compared to them ... '

humility blends in warmly with a loitering sense of shame .

' really --- really-really , i don't think i could give you good advice or critiques even if i tried . not to mention , since i was the one who asked you to draw something for me in the first place , if i were to suddenly get all nit-picky or something over it when i probably couldn't do any better , i'd feel ... um , really mean . '

[ddejavvu]

mean!logan noticing you’re obsessed with his biceps so he makes you use them to get off one day >:)))

Greed - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: mean!logan, degradation, arm/bicep fucking, strength/power imbalance, don't like don't read

thank you to @hanasnx for helping me workshop some possible positions, even if mine differs slightly from indy's 2 examples i had to consult the arm kink professional for guidance

"'Wish you'd speak up for yourself," Logan grunts one day, voice free of criticism but scrutinizing all the same, "Would be a hell of a lot easier to get you off."

"What?" You blink bewilderedly at him, watching as he slings a wife beater over his head, the white fabric barely stretching to cover his broad chest.

"Every time I flex my arms in front of you, you get all crazy. You never say it," Logan stands at the foot of the bed, watching as you squirm, "But I always smell it."

"Your arms are nice." You supply weakly, throat suddenly dry and hollow, "I like them."

"I know." Logan laughs, a huff that's not mean but might as well be for the way it mortifies you, "Like I said, I can tell. But you never say anything, honey. Why's that?"

You detest the way his attention is fixated solely on you. It makes you writhe in your seat, it makes an ache throb between your legs while your brain desperately grasps at straws to figure out what to say.

"I dunno," Is the brilliant response you land on, and his chest rocks with a silent scoff.

"I know why," He prods, crossing his arms. The arms that you can't stop thinking about. "You think talking about what you like is dirty, and you think you're oh-so-pure. But I can smell you- you smell filthy. You're no saint. I've had you choking on my cock before, you're not fooling me. So what do you want?"

Your eyes fall to his arms without any thought behind the motion. He notices, of course, because he's studying you for any miniscule reaction.

"That's not enough." Logan growls, frustration tinging his gruff voice, and you're sure he's smelling the growing arousal between your thighs, "I said tell me."

"I- I want..." You falter, the words on the tip of your tongue but more raunchy than you'd ever be brave enough to voice.

"If you can't ask for it, you're not getting it." Logan decides, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he tightens the way they're crossed against his chest.

You consider abandoning ship. Seceding into silence, and letting Logan down as well as yourself. Taking the safe route.

But you're throbbing. You're aching, Logan's scrutiny combined with the look of his flexed arms is sending you into overdrive, and there's a steady heartbeat between your thighs that's begging for attention. It works the same way booze does, emboldening you, and you blurt out with courage never-before-seen, "I want to ride your arms."

He looks half impressed that you'd said anything at all, and half stunned that you'd said that much, that plainly.

His brows raise, bushy and angled to create a perfect arch.

"Wow. Pretty nasty stuff." He muses, faux-considerate as if he hadn't demanded a voice from you. Still, he doesn't move- so why had he asked?

You shift gently in your seat, but his eyes track your every move like a hunter.

"Well," He lingers in place, arms still crossed, the perfect eye-candy for you, "You gonna say please, or what?"

"Please," You blurt with burning cheeks, and he snickers at your eagerness.

"See? You're not so sweet." He advances, arms coming uncrossed to brace his weight on the bed, meaning thick cords of muscle strain against the confines of his skin, showcased as he crawls towards you, "You couldn't even remember to say please, just demanded to get off on me like I'm some toy."

"Logan, that's not-"

"Inconsiderate." He decides, eyes on your body instead of your face as he scans over your thinly-clad chest, "You're only in it for the sex, aren't you, you little minx?"

"Stop." You plead, feeling as dirty as his words imply. You're not- Logan is the love of your life, but you won't pretend you hate sex with him. But he's making you feel so dirty, like a fiend who wants nothing but his dick.

His hand trails between your thighs but it's different this time, and his fingers toy with your clit only as a prerequisite. You let him open you up, you let his fingers ease your muscles looser as his mouth eases your own loose. His tongue dips inside and licks you into submission, your brain activity lowering the more he kisses you. He soon snakes his arm between your legs, offering you up your real prize: the thick, muscular width of his bicep.

It's an awkward angle, you won't lie. But squeezing your thighs around his arm presses delicious friction against your clit, and the rocking of your hips is an instinct more than it is a thought-out motion.

Logan rests on his stomach on the bed, his arm stretched out in front of him to provide your seat. It means he has to crane upwards to see you, and you thank his supernatural strength for the way that he doesn't break a sweat as you rub yourself wantonly on his arm. His face is not exactly at your own level, which means you can't kiss him silly like you want to. But craning his neck upwards means that his face lands between your tits, and you feel the rough burn of his scruff against your skin as he nestles into your warm skin.

Logan is, perhaps, the ideal individual to suit your cravings for arm muscles. Not only does he have the perfect build, but his increased strength means that he's able to bare his bicep for you to get off on, even lifting it off of the bed to offer you increased friction. Perhaps a normal man would tire in seconds, but Logan- Logan could hold on longer than you.

Grinding against the plentiful mass of muscle in his bicep means that you're rutting up against him, and you have to spread your legs as far apart as possible to ensure that your cunt is met with the already-slickened surface of Logan's bare arm. You're making a mess despite still being in your pajamas, because the shorts you'd been sleeping in offer very little fabric to defend Logan's skin from your copious arousal.

Logan nips at a spot on your left breast, humming gruffly into your chest as you gasp slightly at the intrusion. It breaks your concentration and you have to grip harder at the sheets to fall back into your laborious rhythm.

"Not easy, hm? You've gotta work for it," Logan grunts, mouth moving against your chest as he takes a nipple into his mouth, "Nasty girl, 's a real workout to fuck this dirty, isn't it?"

"Logan, I- I'm not dirty," You whimper, tears beading in your eyes at his gruff accusations, "I'm not."

His laugh is more of a bark than anything, and he ducks his head away from your chest to point with his chin at the mess you're making on his arm.

"That's not dirty? You're dripping- you're making a real mess'a my arm, sweetheart. Dirty little cunt's drooling all over me."

The image of your slick coating Logan's arm, glistening against his muscles throws your pleasure into overdrive. Your orgasm rapidly approaches, the memory of his fingers inside of you only minutes before making up completely for the lack of penetration you get from his bicep. You squeeze your thighs even tighter around Logan's arm, pinning it to your cunt with an almost painful force as you hump against it desperately.

"You're fucking filthy." Logan hisses against your tits, taking one in between his teeth and biting, hard, "Humping my arm like a damn dog. Feel good, honey? Feel how strong I am?"

He flexes harder, tenses his muscles just that much more, and you feel them stiffen impossibly harder beneath your pussy. It's that and the way he mouths at your tits, growling such indecent accusations into their flushed warmth that sends you over the edge, a feeble cry escaping your lips as your hips begin trembling, twitching as you grind against his arm impossibly faster to fulfil your orgasm.

You're sure the bedsheets have suffered your release as much as Logan's arm has, but he's never seriously chided you for making a mess, and you're sure he won't this time. He groans himself as you ride through your orgasm on his arm and you realize only now as you come down from your high that he's been rutting against the mattress, cock still trapped in the confines of his sweatpants. If he hasn't managed to get off on the mattress you'll help him now, granting him access to all the slick warmth that his arm provided.

Now the pressure of his bicep is overstimulating as it presses constantly against your cunt and you ease off of it, giving Logan a prime view of your ruined, sensitive cunt as you whine at the sensitivity.

"Impressive," He hums, "Never thought I'd have you rubbing all over my arm like that."

"It's really strong. You're- you're really strong, Logan, it's nice."

"Yeah?" He grins, more of a smirk perhaps, as something sharp invades his eyes, "All that muscle gets you going? Knowing I'm stronger than you?"

"You are," Your breath shudders as you let it out, and he pushes up on his arms, one still covered in your slick release. He seems suddenly intent on showcasing that strength difference, muscles bulging as he crawls across the mattress to slot himself on top of your fucked-out form.

"I am." He agrees, mouth pressing hungrily to yours as the same arm you'd just got off on curls around your back and cements you to him, his hips already rutting against your own, "Wanna find out how much stronger I am?"

"Yes. Logan, yes, I-" He seizes your mouth in another kiss, cutting off your desperate pleas.

"Fucking try to move." He grunts, almost a growl with how guttural and gruff it sounds against the hollow of your parted lips as his other hand holds your hip firmly, almost crushingly in place, "I'll pin you down 'n hold you still, greedy girl."

[angelyuji]

LADS yandere headcanons

sorry that some of them weren’t long, i didn’t want to make the post too long :( but hey!!! caleb day!!!! guess who got to welcome caleb home after 200 pulls!!!! (imcryingrealtearsrn) tbf i have almost all of his 5 stars and a couple 4 stars now :) all of my saving up helped thankfully

i didn’t write any nsfw but i have some ideas for the characters…. so lemme know if u want it :)

tw // yandere, kidnapping, violence (physical, emotional, mental abuse), manipulation, fauxcest, implied noncon and more, just general freaky nasty stuff

zayne:

zayneer;speojfso;ias doctorrrr doctorrr i think i sprained my ankleee gimme a full body checkup pleaseee ;)))))

he’s very cold to you, but like its just cuz he loves you so much he doesn’t want to scare you away with his actual feelings (thinkkk tsundere)

soooo overprotective over your health and safety

he wants you to quit being a hunter and stay at home, safe from danger

he’ll eventually convince you too, he’s so manipulative, using your heart condition against you

he wants to take care of you until he dies, a giverrrr in more ways than one *wink wink*

he wouldn’t kidnap you, but will convince you to move in with him (probably by saying smth about how it’ll be easier to keep track of your heart and care for you)

you trust zayne a lot easier than xav, raf, and sy becuz he’s your doctor and also your childhood friend (similar to your relationship with caleb) and he’ll use that to his advantage

now lets talk about doctor zayne’s behavior hehehe

in reality, yes everything about your relationship is against doctor-patient rules and all that but like who gives af yk

doctor zayne is the type to prefer doing your weekly check-ups at home in private

and by weekly check-ups i mean not just a regular physical, but a full body check-up

he’s sooo anxious about your health that even if violates your boundaries, he’ll strap you to the bed and snap some gloves on to feel every part of you

(for your health of course, def not cause he wanted to feel your warm skin without you struggling)

rafayel:

THIS MOTHERFUCKERRRR BRO

hes the clingiest person ever, he quite literally never gives you a moment of peace

constantly calling you, never leaving you alone.

he’s very bright and cheery whenever he sees you

but he’s very cold and mean to people he doesn’t care about, he’s very manipulative in that sense

raf is def, in my eyes, kinda the spoiled brat type

he hates when you say no to him so he pretends like you didn’t

if he asks you out and you tell him you can’t cause you’re busy, he’ll make up some excuse to get you to him

whether it’s calling your work and saying he has an emergency or calling you and guilt tripping you, he’s going to get his way no matter what

rafayel would most definitely kidnap you if he feels like you’re not giving him enough attention

like too many dates canceled, too many friends keeping you busy

he’s OVERRR ITT. you’re his inspiration, his muse, his very reason to live so he wants to keep you as close to him as possible

if that means keeping you chained up in his bedroom… then yeah he’s keeping you chained up babes

he’s very hot and cold with you as well

if he’s happy with you, he’s showering you with affection and love. being a silly goofy goober as they say

but if he’s mad at you, he’s cold to you and cruel

raf can be really fucking mean to you but the moment you retaliate, he’s shocked and like “why would you say that :((((“

raf is similar to xavier that he’s clingy, but raf is more confrontational with you. he will accuse you of cheating and force you onto your knees to show him how sorry you are. (he’ll also go and make sure that whoever it was that was taking your time and attention, never gets to talk to you again)

very much a pathological liarr

as much as he is annoying (i say affectionately), he’s constantly looking for your praise

wants you to compliment him and be comforting him at all times

and he’ll force it out of you if he has to.

xavier:

i feel like xavier is the most yandere of all of them like even in canon (this was written before i caleb’s trailer lmao. he’s 2nd most yandere now lolol)

he’s constantly stalking you. finding out who your friends are, what your daily schedule is, what shampoos and soaps you use

you’ll constantly feel like you’ve seen him at the store, but when you go and look, he’s not there (he’s done that before in game lmao he’s so cute)

xavier to me is also a typical yandere but more self-sacrificing. (i saw a tweet about xav and caleb where someone said they’re both yandere lovers but xavier is selfless and caleb is selfish and that perfectly encapsulates what im thinking)

very sneaky sneaky guy

he would kidnap you but that’s a last resort

he mostly just wants your attention and praise so only if he feels that you’re in danger, he would kidnap you

he’s very sadistic when it comes to people that try to take your attention away from him (will torture/kill a guy if they try anything with you)

he’s a jealous and petty i fear

if he feels like you’re talking to some rando too much, he’s immediately at your side, arm around your waist and glaring at them

my little star my cutie pie it’s hard to not fall for his innocent words/behavior becuz he speaks with such an airy voice and cute face

does unhinged shit with a cute smile and you’re usually blissfully unaware (or at least pretending to be), believing xavier def didn’t kill that guy you always say hello too on the way to work

it only gets worse from there once he realizes you’re letting his crazy slide

sylus:

sylus is very gentle and teasing in game and i feel like that also transfers to his yandere version.

contrary to his looks, sylus is not a violent yandere. because of the nature of his work, he doesn't want for you to be involved or see that violent side of him ever.

he's most def a sugar daddy type, very possessive. he wants to know where you are and who you're with at all times.

but he’s not like scary macho man about it, he’s informed you of how dangerous the N109 zone is so you know that his possessiveness is out of fear for your safety

he has most def put a tracker on all your clothes and electronics

if you are and want to continue being a hunter, sylus will support you

the only reason sylus would try to stop you is if you get mortally wounded, then he’s like “yeah no, kitten. you’re staying here with me where it is safe :)”

i feel like sylus would only kidnap you if the situation is that dire for him

like he’s fighting for his life for your attention and you’re giving nothing. he’s gonna be like “omg kitten, why are you not getting the hint :(“

alsooo he’s such a tease like theres nothing he loves more than constantly teasing you about everything

when he leaves for gang leader stuff, he gives you free reign on his black card as well as the house

he does not gaf if the whole house is pink when he comes back as long as you’re home

loves loves loves dressing you tho like he loves buying you clothes and dressing you up like his personal doll

my cute little sugar daddy

caleb:

i’ll be following the canon story for caleb’s headcanons

you guys grew up together, keeping each other safe and being each other’s best friend

and caleb had been in love with you since the moment you guys met

he def toed the line a lot when you guys were kids: making you promise to marry him and telling you that he’ll never leave you and that he would hurt himself if you left him

which at the time, didn’t worry grandma. I mean, you were all he had and vice versa so its not surprising that you’re both so attached

but as you guys grew up, his obsession with you worsens

he sabotages your relationships, keeps a tracker on you at all times, and have crossed a lot of your boundaries

but then caleb “died” and you lost your best friend.

caleb, i feel, is a very core yandere. like if you search up yandere in the dictionary, his picture shows up

he is obsessed with you to the point that it’s unhealthy for the both of you

some of his lines remind of jumin han’s bad ending 2 (from mystic messenger)

like this mf wants to collar you and keep you in a cage so you could never leave his sight. he wants you to be safe and there with him at all times

he would def kidnap you to do exactly this

he most def stalked you btw after he came back from the “dead”

he watched and stewed in jealousy as you interacted with the other LI’s. (yes i know that all the love interests stories are happening in different universes simultaneously but just for this… for the angst)

he hated when you went on dates when you were young, so seeing you again after so long just made his obsession and his hatred worse

he would try to threaten and kill anyone that stood in his way to have you

(also the ARM???? OKAY WINTER SOLDIER!!!) (im hoping the arm is a permanent feature but i wont get my hopes up)

when you guys were younger, caleb def snuck into your room to steal your clothes or anything that had your smell and he most DEFINITELY still does that

i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had a full-on shrine for you that kept him going until he could see you again

anyway the lines are kinda blurred on the familial relation, cause in the game, he talks about how although you guys were technically siblings, neither one of you considered each other as siblings

but i’ll leave it here with this, you guys lived together in your formative years so you most definitely experienced and learned (wink wink) a lot with caleb before anyyyyy of the other love interests

[elronds-meleth-nin]

A Brush With...Kindness?

This idea came up in a discussion with @bigblissandlove1, so credit to you, my dear friend!! Thank you for being okay with me writing it! ILYSM! Thank you for screaming over both versions of Adar with meeee 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Also holy shit, this was supposed to be like...2000 words and ended up as almost 12000. 💀

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Adar (RoP) x Reader

[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Mentions of violence (not discussed in detail), blood, bloodplay, threats, knives, swords, Adar in the winter, both soft!Adar and stabby!Adar, interspecies sex, Uruk/Human sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), angst, much yearning, nudity, I feel like I'm forgetting something but I have no idea what because holy fuck this is almost 12000 words.

~*~

I knew his face from the moment he and his Uruks flooded into our village. Pillaging and looting where they could, murdering those who fought, the Uruks caused havoc. He strode in with them, looking as serene as the Elf I'd mistaken him for when I was a child.

How lucky I'd been that he'd chosen peace all those years ago. My father was a trader who traveled between Lindon, Eregion, and several villages inhabited by Men. Between the last of those villages and the borders of Eregion, we'd stopped to make camp for the night.

While my father set up our tent and tended to the horse, he asked me to gather some small sticks for the fire. I set off to do so, but in my quest for kindling, I ended up farther away from him than I'd intended with an armload of sticks large enough to make me stagger. Just as I'd begun to turn back, there was a small rustling from behind a bush a few feet away. I turned just in time to see a figure rising to his feet.

Tall, intimidating, covered in dark, aging armor, with scars on his face stood an Ellon. I let out a small, childish sigh of relief. I'd been afraid it might be a bear or an Orc or something fearsome, but it occurred to me that the presence of an Elf must mean that we were close to Eregion.

"You should not wander alone, little one. There are Uruks lurking in this forest," he said, and I noted that he sounded strange. Most Elves had voices that flowed like silvery musical notes, but his was raspy and low, as if he'd screamed for so long that he'd hurt his throat. Maybe he was a soldier, I'd thought. After all, they shout orders all the time.

"I'm not alone," I said lifting my chin as proudly as only a child could. "My father is not far from here."

He did not look convinced, yet still he offered me a smile.

"Perhaps, then, my lady, I could help you with your load?" He asked, and as I'd never been called 'my lady' before, I was not eager to disabuse him of the notion. He relieved me of my bundle of sticks, and together we began to walk back toward the camp my father had set up. After a few moments of comfortable quiet, I posed a question.

"What is an Uruk? I've never heard of one before. The word sounds sort of like 'Orc' if you say it too quickly..." I mused, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Vaguely, I wondered if his scars hurt him, but I did not think it polite to ask. At ten years old, my father had taught me manners enough to know that if a person wanted to talk about something like that, they should be the ones to bring it up.

"An Uruk is the correct name for an Orc," the Ellon said. "The words became...confused long ago. Not many remember their real name."

Oh. Well, that made sense.

"There are two people who know, now," I said smiling up at him, and he looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"That is kind of you, my lady, but you must not use that name around the Elves. They do not take kindly to having their mistakes paraded before them," he said, and that confused me.

"But...you are–"

The crunching steps of heavy boots in the underbrush startled me, but instead of an Uruk appearing from the trees, it was just my father.

"There you are! I told you not to go too far," he said striding up to me and wrapping me in his arms. He placed a kiss atop my head and only then did he turn his gaze upon my companion. Straightening, he glared suspiciously at my new friend. "Who are you? I've never seen Elvish armor quite like that."

His tone was less than kind, and, remembering my manners, I spoke up on my friend's behalf.

"Be nice, papa! He was helping me," I said. My new friend shifted the bundle of sticks to one arm, and placed his hand over his heart, inclining his head in a respectful bow.

"I intended her no harm, sir. There are many perils in this part of the forest and I wished to ensure she would not encounter danger," he explained. "Besides, a bundle this large was certainly more than a lady of her status should have to bear."

He offered me an exaggerated, deferential bow that drew a giggle from my lips. After a mere moment's hesitation, my father invited him to our camp to keep warm, since the woods grew quite cold at night. Looking back, it was obvious that he was incredibly patient with my childish questions as the three of us settled in to pass the night. Our evening meal stretched easily between three mouths, even though our new friend said that he did not wish to diminish our supply of food. We could not simply let him starve.

I woke in the middle of the night to low, whispered voices at the treeline. Carefully, I peeked through the flaps of my tent and saw two shadowed figures around the flickers of a small lamp. One stood tall, and the other hunched over.

With my father still slumbering soundly in his bedroll, I made a decision of which he surely would have disapproved. As quietly as I could, I slipped out, sneaking through the shadows of the trees until I could just make out the face of the taller person in the lamplight.

Our Ellon friend? What was he doing out here? Shifting slightly, I caught sight of the second person and–

I nearly tripped over myself to get back to my tent. He'd been speaking in a strange rasping, mean-sounding language to an Orc - or, an Uruk, as he'd called them.

I wasn't frightened of him, despite what I'd seen. Curiosity still reigned in my mind, but I still did not relish the thought of being caught eavesdropping. The next morning, I rose quite early, only to find that our guest was already gone.

"Don't look so distressed, love," my father called from his seat beside the fire. "He left this for you along with his apologies for leaving before you woke. He said his children needed him."

He held out a small piece of dark metal. It had clearly come from his armor. Carved within it was a set of stars, inlaid with some other tarnished metal.

"He said it was the symbol of the Noldorin Kings. He thought you might appreciate it and that it might serve to remind you of the conversation the two of you had," my father explained, though he looked a bit puzzled. "What conversation did he mean, if I may ask?"

As I looked at the small metal piece, it occurred to me that if he had not told my father, then perhaps there was a reason. My father might react poorly to the word 'Uruk' like our friend said the Elves would, simply because he worked so closely with them.

"He said it was dangerous to walk alone," I said, and though it wasn't a lie, it was not the whole truth, either. I'd never had reason to lie to my father before, and I hoped I would never need to again.

That night after we rode into Eregion and settled into our chambers, by candlelight I found the second symbol. Carved onto the back of the item he'd given me, there was what looked like a three-pronged shape. A tool perhaps? A maker's mark?

I wouldn't see that shape again until many years later when Lord Adar took our village. The armor piece which I'd turned into a necklace years before hung around my neck, almost burning beneath the bodice of my dress even as I averted my eyes from our new lord's.

When the morning came, we were all herded into a line leading to the steps of the tavern from which Adar was currently ruling over us. Those who refused to swear loyalty to him were summarily killed by the Uruks guarding us. When my own turn came, I dropped to my knees as all those before me had done.

Strangely, though, even as I looked up at him, I still couldn't find it within me to be afraid of him. Of death? Naturally, I was frightened, but I could not muster the same feeling regarding the Uruk lord. His eyes met mine, and his lips parted as if he recognized me.

An old man grasped my hair roughly, forcing my head down into a more subservient position.

"Do you swear allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?" He asked, but before I could answer either way, his tight grasp on my hair was suddenly released. "M-My lord?"

"She has already sworn for me," Adar rasped above me, and I tried not to look confused as he urged me to my feet. He reached toward me, and to my astonishment, his fingertips brushed against the pendant that had come loose from beneath the top of my dress. The one he'd given me years ago. The back with the three-pronged carving was visible because the chain had twisted. "She already wears my mark. You will not brand her, is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord," the grumpy old man said, but I could look nowhere save into the same green eyes I'd seen all those years before. I couldn't help but think about how beautiful they were.

"I shall see to the rest tomorrow, Waldreg. See that they're fed and have a place to sleep," Adar ordered. Grasping my elbow, the Lord Father of the Uruks led me away from the crowd. Once we were safely inside one of the ruined buildings, he clasped my upper arms and looked into my eyes. "I thought I told you it was dangerous to wander alone, my lady."

His voice was infinitely gentler than it had been before.

"I'm not alone," I whispered, "not when I have you."

Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and something far too soft to be on an Uruk Lord's face, he stepped closer and carefully rested his forehead against mine. The scent of smoke and metal, earth and wood oils surrounded me, and I recognized the scent, faint though it had been, from that day in the woods.

He muttered something in the low, guttural language that the Uruks used, and though I had no idea what he'd said, the sound of it sent my heart racing in my chest.

"I thought I'd never see you again," I admitted in a whisper, and he let out a slow, almost sad sigh.

"I had hoped that you would never have need to," Adar murmured in return. When he spoke again, he sounded almost resigned. "If you wish to leave, I can arrange safe passage for you."

I considered the possibility for a moment. My mother and father were living peacefully in Eregion, thanks to the kindness bestowed upon them by Lord Celebrimbor. I could certainly go there, but...was that what I wanted?

"And...if I wanted to stay?"

Pulling his head back just far enough to look into my eyes, Adar seemed as though he both was and was not surprised at my question.

"You would be allowed to do so, of course, but you must understand that this would be a hard life," he stated. "I cannot offer you any luxuries, not like those found in Elven territory. Mordor is new. We have very little. We have not even completed the construction of our own homes yet. Is that truly the life you want? Barely getting by on scraps of food, sleeping in the ruins of an old building?"

"I can bear it," I reassured him, and he seemed to consider my words as his fingertips once again traced the chain of my necklace.

"I will not make you swear your loyalty, my lady, but I would like your word that if at any point you feel as though this life is intolerable or overwhelming, you will tell me," he murmured as his eyes met mine again. "I would not see your light dimmed by such a place as this."

Gently, I laid my hands over his.

"You have my word, my lord," I murmured, and he nodded his head slowly.

"Then, welcome to Mordor, híril vuin."

--

She'd been different since the day they met. Oh, she was likely an average member of her species, but Adar had little personal experience with Humans beyond the occasional interaction. Her openness when she was a child had been endearing, especially since she hadn't thought him frightening or hideous. She'd accepted him as he was without question - even going so far as to protect him from her father's suspicion.

After she'd caught him speaking with Glûg in the middle of the night, ordering his children to leave her and her father be in Black Speech, however, Adar had thought that she'd have told her father what she'd seen...that he would be met with an arrow to the chest upon his return to their camp. Instead, she'd managed to sneak back unnoticed, and he'd taken his leave before she awakened.

Never did he think that one day as a grown woman - a lady - she would be forced to kneel at his feet. Not even with the threat of death looming over her was she afraid of him.

He'd never wanted her fear. When she was a child, he'd savored her curiosity, and now, as an adult, he found that he relished her gentleness and her acceptance. She'd been courteous to all of his children whom she'd encountered, even if such behavior earned scorn from the other Humans in their encampment. She never cowered. She never diminished herself to fit into the dull little boxes that the others of her species so consistently tried to force upon her. She was unique.

And Adar found himself growing ever more intrigued by her.

The winter wind whipped clothing, biting the skin and sinking bone-deep. Like most discomfort, Adar was used to it. He knew every survival method - one did not live for thousands of years without picking up a few helpful practices. His children had followed his example, but it was a bit harder for the Humans among them to find comfort.

Truly, though, the only one he cared about was his lady...his brave, determined lady. He remembered her looking up at him the better part of a year ago when she was forced to the ground before him. Curiosity and recognition was as obvious in her expression as the points on an Elf's ears.

Even after he'd taken their village, she hadn't hated him. She hadn't denied having sworn for him, even though that had been a lie he concocted to keep her safe and unblemished.

Seeing that remnant of his armor hanging from a chain around her neck had inspired more pride and awe in him than he'd felt in an Age. Adar had assumed that even if her father had given it to her, it was so small and insignificant that she wouldn't have bothered to keep track of it. But for her to have turned it into a necklace... The thought still sparked a wave of warmth in the Uruk's heart.

Had their encounter truly been that memorable to her?

As the bitter winter held the camp in its grip, residents and all, Adar walked amongst his children and sworn Human villagers alike, noting those things which were needed most. He turned a corner between rows of tents and half-built houses and paused at the sight of his lady and Glûg discussing the babe in the Uruk's arms. After a few moments, his lady let out a small laugh, and Glûg let out a rasping chuckle before departing with a small bow.

Before he could behave as if he'd been doing anything - anything at all - besides watching them, she turned and Adar's eyes met hers. Approaching without hesitation, she curtsied and greeted him with her customary 'good day, my lord.'

Dropping into his own low bow, Adar offered her his arm.

"Walk with me, if you would, my lady," he murmured, and she looped her arm with his. "How would you characterize the mood amongst your people here?"

They walked a few steps, she considering her answer, and he marveling at how easily they fit together. Having her at his side felt natural, as if that was where she was always meant to be.

"They are under strain, because of the winter temperatures. Perhaps they are a bit more frightened than usual, but nothing too serious," she replied. "They seem to have settled into their new routine along with your children quite well, considering the circumstances."

"And what of your own circumstances? What can I do to ease your burden?" He asked as they reached the door of her shelter.

"I can think of nothing, my lord." Adar did not believe that, but he did not contradict her, choosing instead to accept her invitation inside.

"Allow me, at least," he said as he stepped inside, "to check your supplies. Firewood and the like."

"Of course," she murmured, waving him inside. One of the other ladies who shared her living space had already lit a fire in grate, and as soon as they saw Lord Adar walk inside, they quickly found other places to be.

Pretending to take a cursory view around the room, Adar slyly watched his lady move around, tidying up, even though the messes had clearly been created by the others. That he did not like, but that was a problem for a later date.

"Are you certain there is nothing I can do to improve your situation?" He asked, and she flashed him a smile bright enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Nothing, whatsoever. I'm quite comfortable here," she said walking to stand with him beside the fire. He took a long, selfish moment to indulge his desire to study her face. When his desire to reach out and touch her grew so strong that he felt he might snap, he drew and released a deep breath.

"Thank you for your indulgence, my lady. I shall leave you in peace."

Adar gave her a small bow before making his way toward the door.

"Oh, wait! Please, my lord," she called, and he turned to face her. She pulled a length of cloth from a bundle, hurrying over to him.

A familiar sense of dread curled in his abdomen. He'd been betrayed before in moments of weakness - seeing her this evening was certainly a weakness. The cloth would make a suitable garrote for a person of her size to use. Steeling himself as she approached, he realized that, though he wouldn't be surprised, her betrayal would hurt more than any other had.

He met her eyes with his as she stood on the tips of her toes to wrap the cloth around his neck...but the constriction he'd been expecting never came. Instead, she tied it carefully, tucking the ends into his armor so they wouldn't flap around in the wind.

Adar's gauntlet-covered fist relaxed as his defensiveness was replaced with confusion. He was certain that he must look as utterly befuddled as he felt, but the little smile that settled upon her lips as she examined her handiwork stole his breath.

"There. That should keep you a little warmer, at least. We cannot have the Lord of Mordor freezing, now can we?" She asked when her fingers finally fell away from the chestplate of his armor. Adar found speech difficult for a long moment. She cared for his comfort?

How was one supposed to tell someone that they'd expected death's shadow only to find kindness instead? How could he possibly explain to someone like her that at the sight of a simple makeshift scarf, he'd coiled himself as tightly as a warrior preparing to be struck without a shield or sword to defend himself? She was so considerate that she would blame herself for unsettling him, he had no doubt.

No, to say nothing would be better. Perhaps...perhaps later.

Lifting her hands gently in his own, he laid soft kisses upon her knuckles. He dared not look away. Not now. This moment was crucial - whether for just him or for them both, he knew not.

"Thank you, dear lady," he breathed, and as his eyes searched hers, he saw what he normally did in her: warmth. However, this time he saw more. There was warmth, yes, but there was also gentleness, protectiveness, and a sort of satisfaction about him not tearing the scarf from his throat - he would never do such a thing. Not when it was from her.

When he finally stepped outside once more, the wind was unable to sink its frozen teeth into his neck. The fabric, worn and discolored with age, was soft, caressing his scarred skin just as he imagined her fingers would if she ever deigned to lower herself and take him as her lover.

Her generosity made him only that much more determined to find some way to make life easier for her. For nearly a week, he was kept too busy to give the matter any serious consideration, but he did have an idea.

While she was occupied, Adar slipped into her shelter. He wished to find a way to repay her for her kindness, thus his goal was to find one of her unfulfilled needs and provide for her. He was already able to ensure that she received enough food and water, and she deserved more than he could ever give her, but he was willing to try.

After a few moments of searching, he noticed the blanket in her little sleeping area. It was thin, full of holes, and practically falling apart. It was the only one he could see.

His heart clenched in his chest. She must be nearly frozen during the night, yet she had still seen fit to give him her scarf? The growing dampness of tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away. How had she made it through the winter?

At least he could fix this for her.

Picking up the tattered blanket, he strode across the camp to find a replacement. Laying it atop a pile with other bits of cloth that needed to be repurposed, he found a stack of extra blankets. He'd already ensured that all of his children had enough to keep them warm, so one extra would not be missed.

He hastened back to her shelter, closing the door nearly silently behind him, but he quickly realized that he was not alone.

"My lord?" She called from her place beside the cold hearth. She was trying to light a fire with trembling hands. Walking over to her, Adar tucked the blanket beneath his arm and gently coaxed the flint and steel from her cold fingers.

Kneeling briefly, he struck the flint and steel once, twice, and carefully encouraged the flame to grow until a warm glow illuminated the room. When he stood again, he grasped her hands and rubbed them between his palms. He would not be content to leave her until he was certain that she would not freeze in the night.

She looked up at him in wordless wonder, and he knew for certain that his own expression had to be similar.

"Thank you, my lord," she said in barely a whisper, and in reply, he unfolded the blanket he'd brought. Though it was not nearly as soft as someone like her deserved, he knew it would hold the heat much better than her old one. Adar draped it around her shoulders, and, sweet, trusting thing that she was, she made no protest about his proximity, nor did she flinch when the backs of his knuckles caressed her cheek.

She looked from him, to the blanket, and back again. Without warning, she sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, but where he usually expected the bite of a dagger after such an impact, he found only comfort. He realized that she...was embracing him.

He looked down at her, only to find his nose buried in her hair. Her scent! He'd smelled it before, but to have her this close...it was intoxicating. Carefully bracing his hands on her waist, he leaned down a little farther. The tip of his nose brushed against her warm neck, and he could almost smell her pulse racing beneath her skin.

His nose must've been cold, for that small movement was enough to startle her into leaping back. His fëa, dark and fractured as it was, wept at the loss of her, even though she'd only been in contact with him for a moment.

It had been so long since he'd been held like that.

Alarm settled into her expression and she began stammering apologies. Her new blanket slipped from one shoulder, and without a word, Adar stepped toward her and pulled it back into place.

Her voice dropped away as she realized what he was doing. His hands laid lightly upon her shoulders, sliding slowly upward until he was able to cup her cheeks carefully between his scarred fingers. Her eyes, now wide with wonder rather than fear, looked up at him.

"You have done nothing which warrants an apology, my lady," Adar murmured giving her small smile. She was so beautiful, so fragile compared to him. He would risk no injury coming to her. Not even the discomfort of the abating cold; slowly, their breaths became less visible as the fire grew in the hearth. "Why did you not tell me about the state of your blanket?"

"I did not wish to trouble you, my lord," she answered sheepishly. "I had already requested a replacement from the head of the Men in our section, but I was told I'd have to speak with Waldreg. Given my previous encounters with him, I...decided that the cold was preferable."

Disquiet twisted within him. Waldreg was distasteful enough without having caused his lady trouble. He was quite certain he'd tear the little worm of a Man limb from limb with a grin on his lips if he dared harm his lady.

Adar would have to speak with him about that.

"Has he mistreated you?" He tried to keep his tone as steady as possible, but a slight edge still managed to creep in.

"He expressed a few less than polite sentiments, but no more. It is not a crime for him to dislike me, my lord," she said, but her attempt to calm his ire only made him angrier on her behalf. Would she not express her anger even at someone as wretched and cruel as Waldreg?

"In future, come directly to me. You need not be afraid. I would be pleased to assist you, my lady," he promised, and his heart stuttered as she nodded her head.

As soon as he left her shelter, he sought Waldreg. The miserable little rat had much to answer for.

--

As the winter winds began to wane, I found myself increasingly glad of Lord Adar's kindness. Not shivering through the night was a pleasant change. I'd thought that after our conversation he seemed rather tense, but thus far I had seen no results.

However, as I returned from harvesting a small bunch of mushrooms for the soup that night, a vicelike grip clamped around my arm, tugging me off balance and dragging me into the small, dark alleyway between two repurposed buildings.

A hand covered my mouth just as a knifepoint pressed cold and unyielding against my racing pulse.

"You vicious little bitch," a familiar voice snarled against my ear. "What lies did you tell him? How did you make him hate me?"

I whimpered but dared not move for fear of the sharp steel at my throat.

"'You will not treat my children or those pledged to me with disrespect,' he said. He's had me shoveling shit in the kennels for weeks, and word around camp is that he only came to me after speaking with you!" Waldreg sounded furious, and, indeed, I could detect the lingering scent of the wargs' leavings clinging to my attacker and his clothing. The more agitated he grew, the more his hands shook. Pain pricked my skin, and a hot red tear trickled down my throat staining the neckline of my dress. "What'd you do? Lift your skirt for him? Whisper in those ragged little ears of his? Give me one good reason I shouldn't gut you here and feed you to the wargs."

I began struggling in earnest, but his anger kept his grip tight. Still his hand covered my mouth, preventing any attempts at speech. A cruel laugh trickled across my ears, and he dragged his knife downwards until it rested directly above my heart.

"I thought not." I tried to cringe away, but that accomplished nothing save fueling the cruel old bastard's amusement as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Say goodnight!"

Instead of the bite of a blade, however, I was abruptly released. A gurgling sound came from behind me, and when I turned, I saw Lord Adar's gauntlet-covered hand lifting Waldreg off the ground by his throat. The cold glare on the Uruk's face revealed not a single mite of mercy for the Man thrashing in his grasp.

"My lady, go inside. I will join you in a moment," Adar called, and after a single shocked blink, I rushed off to do as he'd ordered. My basket lay in the mud, entirely forgotten amongst the chaos. A small crowd of Uruks had gathered around to witness Waldreg's demise and jeer at him, but I couldn't stay.

As terrible as he was, I didn't want to. Trembling, I closed the door after myself and stumbled toward my sleeping space. Quickly wrapping the blanket Adar had given me around my shoulders, I tried to steady my breathing instead of listening to the commotion outside.

I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there when the crowd fell silent and the door finally opened. Terrified that Waldreg had somehow survived and was coming to seek his revenge, I backed into the corner beside the hearth and tried to stay as small as possible.

I had no weapons with which to fight. Hiding would be my only chance to survive, especially if Adar had not been able to stop him.

--

"My lady?" Adar's voice called gently into the space, though he saw no sign of her. He spotted a small movement from the far side of the hearth. Why was she hiding? Her eyes were wide and fearful, even as he approached.

Suddenly, her assertion about Waldreg expressing 'a few less than polite sentiments, but no more' felt grossly incorrect. If she was this frightened, he must've threatened her.

Adar hoped that she heard him screaming his apologies before his death.

Or...could it be that he'd finally managed to frighten her with his cruelty? That thought sent a bolt of icy dread through him.

Dropping silently to his knees beside her, he unclipped his gauntlet and dropped it beside him. He wouldn't dare touch her while wearing it after it had touched that scum, not without cleaning it first. He offered her his hand, afterwards, and she accepted it without hesitation.

She needed no coaxing to come to him, shuffling over and resting before him on her knees with her blanket still around her shoulders.

"You need not fear, my lady. He will haunt your steps no more," he murmured, and the relieved little sniffle that escaped her had Adar moving closer and gently brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

His skin was rough, but he was careful. He didn't want to hurt her, or for her to fear him. She had every right to after she'd seen him lifting Waldreg off the ground in the midst of his rage. He certainly would not blame her, but he did not want that. If ever she shrank away from him as she'd tried to do from that contemptible worm earlier, he thought his heart may shatter irreparably.

So, with the most soothing tone he could muster - one he'd not used in over an Age - he placed a gentle kiss upon her brow and spoke.

"You are safe with me, híril vuin. None shall raise a hand to you again." Carefully, he pulled the edge of the blanket away just far enough to see the small trail of dried blood from where she'd been cut. Regret was as foul upon his tongue as bile.

He should have found them sooner. Moving away only long enough to fetch a pitcher of water and a cloth, Adar sat close to her upon his return. He began to wipe her skin clean in slow, careful strokes, murmuring quiet, earnest praise for how brave she'd been and for trusting him to help her.

She rested her cheek upon his shoulder as he set the cloth aside, prompting him instinctively to wrap his arms around her and brace his chin atop her head.

"Thank you, my lord," she breathed, and he was acutely aware of his own heart racing in his chest. Could she hear its rhythm even with the chestplate of his armor in the way?

As he began to tell her that he'd done no more than his duty, the door to her shelter opened, revealing the three other ladies who shared the small space with her. Adar grated at the interruption, despite their low curtsies as soon as they caught sight of him holding his lady in his arms.

"Sleep elsewhere tonight," he ordered them, and once they'd departed, he let out a tense breath. Speaking then to his lady, he softened his tone once more. "Tomorrow, I shall have you moved to chambers befitting one of your station."

She blinked beautifully up at him, dampness clinging to her lashes like dewdrops in the early morn.

"'My station,' my lord?"

A slow smile stretched his lips.

"Indeed. If you are to serve at the right hand of the Lord of Mordor, you cannot be seen huddling in the corner of a ruined shack."

Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted in a near-silent gasp.

"A-At your right hand?"

He nodded his head in confirmation.

"Assuming that such a thought appeals to you, of course," he said, but the smile that lit up her face told him all that he needed to know about her enthusiasm.

--

The next morning, I awoke wrapped in Lord Adar's arms and the blanket he'd given me. I should've felt embarrassment, but I could muster no more than a groggy sense that I was exactly where I was meant to be.

As soon as we managed to peel ourselves from the ground, we gathered my meager possessions, and Adar led me to the tavern. He had ruled from there since day one, but I hadn't been aware until that moment that he'd been living there as well. I supposed that his choice made sense. The upper level was where the owner used to live, having the benefit of a bedroom and a small bathing room complete with a claw-foot tub.

"Unless you object, we shall be sharing the bedroom," he explained as we climbed the creaky wooden staircase. "I'm afraid that there was little more than a musty mattress here to begin with, so I'll have a second bedroll brought up today. If there is anything you require once you have settled in, please do not hesitate to tell me."

"Thank you, my lord," I replied, and as I set myself up on one side of the room directly across from his own sleeping area, one of his children called him away to handle a conflict on the other side of the camp.

Late that night, I walked into the small communal area where Lord Adar sat by the fire, gazing into its depths as if it held the answers to all of his questions. Not wishing to disturb his thoughts, I began to move away, but a quiet call of my name in that deliciously raspy voice of his froze me in place.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" He called, and I turned to find his gaze already fixed on me.

"Yes, my lord," I murmured, "thank you for allowing me to stay here."

"The pleasure is mine. Come, warm yourself by the fire," he offered, and I dropped to my knees on the furs beside him. We sat in companionable silence for a while with only the crackling of the fire in the grate reaching our ears. "Something troubles you, does it not?"

I nodded my head and he tilted his own beside me.

"Tell me." Despite his soft tone, the command made me bite my lip.

"I...My lord, given the new position with which you have honored me, I believe it..." I stumbled over the words, eventually taking a deep breath to compose myself. "Would it not be inappropriate for me to continue in this particular role without having sworn my loyalty to you?"

The question came out in a breathless rush, but Adar either did not notice over the hissing of the fire or he was too polite to comment upon it.

"So far as all the others are concerned, you did so before we ever took your village." His eyes skimmed the length of my face as he spoke. "As you will recall, I promised you that I would not force you to do so."

"And you have kept to your word," I began. "I have not felt coerced. I offer my loyalty to you freely."

Adar sat up straighter and drew in a sharp breath.

"You only need do so if you truly wish for us to be bound," he said placing his hand softly atop mine where it rested amongst the furs. His eyes searched mine as if trying to determine whether I was serious.

"I'm certain, my lord," I said, and he, apparently finding what he was looking for, gave a solemn nod of his head.

"Very well. As with your kin, Black Speech is not a language known to you, thus I will not require your vow in that tongue," he murmured, and I couldn't stop the question that fell from my lips.

"Would it be possible to learn at some point?"

Adar smiled, a mix of pride and surprise playing across his features in the glowing, flickering light of the fire.

"I shall teach you personally, híril vuin," he promised, and his expression became more serious. "Have you ever sworn loyalty to another?"

"No, my lord."

"Do you recall the words being spoken during the oaths of fealty given by your people?"

"Yes, my lord." I bowed my head, intending to show my respect in that manner, but warm, gentle fingers grasped my chin and lifted my head back up. Adar's gaze met my own, and unless the firelight was deceiving me, I saw a soft sort of affection swimming in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Before all else, I wish you to swear that you will never bow to me unless I explicitly give you the order to do so," he rasped as his thumb brushed over my lower lip.

"I swear it, my lord. I will not bow to you unless you give me the order to do so." Having extracted that promise, he seemed satisfied to allow me to continue as I had been. His fingers fell away from my chin only to grasp my own and lay them atop his chest where beneath his heart lay beating. "I hereby swear my allegiance to you, Adar, Lord-Father of the Uruks, founder of the land of Mordor...and protector of mortal children silly enough to wander the forest alone. This I pledge from now until the last breath leaves my body."

Adar listened with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and when I finished, his gaze strayed down to my lips. But...something seemed off.

"Is...something amiss, my lord? I could always use different words, if you prefer...?"

He shook his head quietly.

"There was no fault in your diction."

"Then...what troubles you?" I asked, unconsciously repeating his own words from earlier. He shifted before me, as if he was bothered by what he was about to say. Regretful, perhaps?

"An oath means little on its own," Adar murmured unsheathing a small knife that he'd apparently concealed upon his person. "Only blood can bind."

Whose blood did he mean? Did he want me to use it on myself? Did he wish to use it on me? Or did he want me to use it on us both?

An idea struck me, and I grasped my necklace in the palm of my left hand. Carefully, I set his knife aside, guiding his gauntlet-covered hand over mine. Looking into his eyes, I felt the unyielding metal dig into the soft skin of my hand. Without warning, I squeezed his hand, which in turn forced the sharp, ancient metal deep enough into my skin to draw blood. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, his pupils dilated, and something resembling hunger turned his gaze into a blazing flame boring into me.

His hand released mine long enough for the pendant to fall from my grasp, and when he turned my palm upwards, twin gashes welled with blood. Swallowing heavily, Adar lifted my hand, and as his lips met crimson, his eyes sought mine.

A gasp tumbled from my throat as his tongue lapped slowly at my skin, just barely grazing the inner edges of the two weeping cuts. It stung, of course, but the pain combined with such a ravenous stare from the Uruk lord sent a wave of heat rushing between my legs.

A breathy, wanton whimper escaped me, and in a blink, I found myself on my back atop the furs with my lord straddling my hips. He pressed my bleeding palm against his cheek, and, bracing his free hand on the floor beside my head, Adar placed a line of fiery kisses along the column of my throat from hollow to chin with his blood-drenched lips.

I'd wanted him to look at me like this, to touch me and desire me like this, from the moment we were reunited, and now that he was, it was as though my very soul had been lit aflame. I wanted everything he wished to give me, and then some.

Before his mouth had the chance to claim mine, however, there was a rough knock on the door. Adar pulled back a few inches, and we stared into each other's eyes, panting together as reality sank back in and a second knock sounded.

"I think you ought to retire for the night, my lady," he rasped laying a final kiss upon my palm before getting to his feet. My blood was a dark red streak upon his face, but he seemed not to care. He called for whoever was at the door to wait a moment, taking the time to help me to my feet and bidding me goodnight before seeing to our caller. His lips were still the deep red shade of the life flowing through my mortal veins.

I hurried up the stairs to our shared sleeping space before I could see who'd interrupted us. With a quick glance into the cracked fragment of a mirror stowed in the corner of the room, I saw a sloppy, red trail where Adar's lips had been.

I didn't bother to clean it off before I crawled into my bedroll, choosing instead to slip my fingers beneath my smallclothes as I recalled the feeling of him doing as he wished with me. With a broken, muffled whine of his name against my blanket, I found completion, but a part of me wondered how much more satisfying it would have been had his fingers been in place of mine.

--

The next fortnight felt as though it was a specialized form of torture. Adar seemed to be called away by a never-ending series of problems that required solutions. Often his day began earlier than I awoke and ended long after I'd retired to bed. Ensuring I'd completed every task he'd left for me was the least I could do considering how busy his own position kept him.

Occasionally, we did still manage to sneak a meal or a short conversation with one another, but we had yet to discuss what had happened the night I pledged myself to him. Almost every night, the memory of the hunger in his eyes drove me to desperation, haunting my dreams and forcing me to muffle my cries as I tended to my own burning desire.

One of the few times he returned before I fell asleep, I'd just whimpered his name into my pillow. As he ascended the staircase, I heard his footsteps, and I tried to muffle my shame as it was too late to stop entirely. The fear of discovery lanced through me as I heard him approach the door. I tried to steady my breathing, and hoped that in the low lighting, he would not notice how disheveled I looked.

Either I was successful, or he was in a sadistic mood, because he sidled over to his own bedroll and began stripping down. I'd seen him without the armor before, but when he shucked off his upper garments, the sight of his scarred, toned torso was enough to make me bite my tongue to stifle a gasp.

The outline of his masculinity in his trousers as he laid his clothing in a neat pile sent a fresh wave of wetness soaking my inner thighs. Oh, how was I meant to sleep after seeing...that?

Adar laid down, and just when I thought he'd fallen asleep, his voice broke through the silence.

"Sweet dreams, my lady." I could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

Oh. My cheeks burned at the realization that he'd likely heard me.

"...Good night, my lord," I murmured, hating how shaky I sounded.

--

Spring changed very few things in Mordor, save the temperatures, yet with each passing day, Adar's lady seemed to smile just a little wider.

He wanted to give her more reasons to do so, however. It was not enough that they had been living in close quarters since that night in her shelter. It was not enough that he'd made her smile and laugh before. Adar needed to do it again.

But more than that, he needed to hear those things which it was not at all civilized to consider. It was not enough that he had tasted her blood and her skin and her racing pulse. He'd heard her make beautiful, pleasure-filled sounds when she thought he was out of earshot or asleep. But it was never enough. He needed to hear her moan his name, to see her arch her back beneath him in the throes of ecstasy. He needed her.

Teasing her had been as much a torture for him as it likely was for her. Adar had become addicted to pain in one form or another over the millennia, and the mental strain of denying himself the pleasure of her touch was not unfamiliar, but it was forcing him to a breaking point, nonetheless. He knew that he would likely snap as he had when she'd sworn him her loyalty. That rush had been like a dam releasing an unstoppable flood, his hunger turning him into a ravenous beast.

She hadn't minded, as he thought she might. She'd enjoyed it. The sight of her lying beneath him panting as her blood practically dripped from his lips made him achingly hard each time he dwelled upon the memory for too long.

Still, she deserved better. Better than him, better than a moment of animalistic need. He found himself wondering about how best to give her all of himself.

Adar supposed that was how he'd ended up in the doorway of the small bathing room. The claw-footed tub was filled with steaming water as he'd ordered, and relaxing within it was his lady. She'd deserved a moment of peace after having completed every single task he'd given her with such dedication. It was a small reward, hardly as much as she deserved, but at the moment, it was all he could give.

He tried not to allow his gaze to drop beneath the water's surface, but his restraint was weak after the last two weeks of self-imposed denial. Truly, he intended merely to check that she was well, but the temptation of seeing her soft skin dripping with hot water was too great. The Lord of Mordor lingered in the doorway just long enough to feel his lower garments grow tight, and for her eyes to meet his as his lust clawed at his restraint.

As a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself walking slowly into the room, summoned by her curious gaze. The hot water reached her collarbones, and Adar felt the urge rising within him to claim her.

He knelt beside the tub, his face mere inches from her own, and removed his armor, gauntlet and all. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and dipped a washcloth into the hot water. The back of his hand brushed against the swell of her breast, and they both let out quiet gasps.

Still, Adar refused to look down into the depths of the sage blossom oil scented water. Wringing the washcloth out until it was just wet enough for him to clean his face, he began to do so, only for his lady to take it from his hands. With her breasts pressed up against the side of the tub, her soft, gentle fingers held his head in place as she carefully wiped away the grime.

Without a word, he turned his head and kissed her palm where twin scars were already forming. Adar would've preferred that she spill his own blood - that was what he'd originally intended - but since she'd chosen that pain, the least he could do was show the proper amount of reverence for her actions.

"Is there anything you need, Adar?" Her voice was shaky and breathless as it so often was when he caught her off-guard.

"No. This night is for you. Relax as long as you wish," he murmured, but as he stood to leave her in peace, he noted that she tried valiantly to hide her disappointment. Without turning back - if he did, he might do something impulsive - he called over his shoulder, "Patience, my lady, and you shall have all that you desire."

His hardness did not abate until long after they'd settled into their bedrolls and her breathing had evened out in the serenity of sleep.

Adar could not wait much longer. Her sweetness was as a siren's call to him.

Thus, his plan began to form. Once the spring was fully upon them, he approached her as he often did for conversation.

"My lady, I wonder if you might spare me a moment of your time?" He asked, and she smiled joyfully up at him - truly, that should not have made his heart stutter the way it did.

"Of course, my lord. You may have as much of my time as you desire," she replied, and oh, she had no idea what she was offering!

"Do you enjoy riding horses?"

She tilted her head curiously, but the way her smile widened had him mentally congratulating himself for selecting this particular tactic.

"I do, though, it has been quite some time since I've had the opportunity."

"Come," he urged offering her his hand. She didn't hesitate to take it. The feeling of her touch would be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. Drawing her close, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I intend to steal you away."

Her lips parted in surprise, and just as he was about to apologize for his forthrightness, she squeezed his fingers in hers.

"I could not hope to be stolen by any more worthy." His breath hitched in his chest, and he tamped down the temptation to skip his plan entirely and take her atop his own sleeping furs. No. He'd been alive since before the waking of the world. He could wait a little longer.

"Then, maybe I should play the part...?" Adar suggested with a mischievous smirk. Before she could ask what he meant, he lifted her by the waist, tossed her over his shoulder - an action which tugged a surprised shriek from her lips - and carried her to his horse that way.

"My lord!"

"My lady!" He called back in answer as he felt her gentle, mortal hands lay across the back of his armor. Surely she knew he would never drop her?

Soon, he placed her atop his mount, and she giggled breathlessly at the situation. Her mussed hair and bright eyes lit a spark within his heart, and lower, not that he would admit it to any, save her. Swinging up easily, he settled in behind her, grasping the horse's reins in one hand and bracing the other over the softness of her diaphragm. As close as they were, he was in the perfect position to whisper in her ear.

"Fear not, my lady," he breathed, "you shan't fall."

One of her hands covered his, and he urged their horse forward. For nearly two hours they rode, crossing from ashen, desolate terrain into the gentle rolling grasses of the land beyond Mordor's fiery shadow.

The rhythmic roll of her hips against his became almost hypnotic. The Lord of Mordor he might be, but his restraint was still utterly devastated by her. They dismounted when they reached a meadow peppered with small saplings.

Tying their horse's reins to a sturdy one, Adar offered his lady his hand. The sun was just beginning to glow a gentle orange. It would set soon, and he greatly desired to see his lady bathed in starlight.

"It is no secret that I favor you, my lady," Adar began as they wandered leisurely amongst the blooming flowers, and that was the closest he'd ever come to an admission...to a confession of that nature. "Even the Uruks farthest from the center of our camp know that I...that you are under my protection."

"Indeed. I would say that is true," she agreed, clearly not certain at what point he was driving with his rambling. "I am honored beyond words to have your favor and protection, my lord–"

"Adar. Here - anywhere away from prying eyes and unwelcome ears - you may call me Adar," he corrected gently, and her fingers squeezed his in gratitude. "I brought you here today, because I wish to ask for your counsel."

"You shall always have it, Adar," she assured, "though, I am not certain what advice I could provide that would be wiser than your own. I have very little experience with war and strategy."

He stopped walking and turned to face her - a mistake, because she was almost ethereally encompassed by the warmth of the sunset. He swallowed heavily to recover his voice.

"It is not war about which I require your thoughts," he began, bringing her hand to his ruined lips. "I have lived in shadow for so long, yet recently I have found myself prey to a feeling which I have not experienced in many Ages."

She tilted her head curiously.

"What might that be?"

Adar reached gently toward her with his free hand, cupping her cheek.

"Love," he rasped, looking into her eyes, hoping she would catch the meaning within his words. Admitting that a horrid creature like him had fallen head over heels for a beautiful being like her was tantamount to sacrilege. Yet...in several instances, he believed that he'd seen his own affection reflected in her eyes. Indeed, the moans he'd heard from her would seem to indicate that she desired him.

But it was too much to hope that she could love him. He was certain she desired him, but...love? Could a Human woman truly love an Uruk when the rest of her kind looked down on them in scorn and disgust? Had he been a fool to bring her here?

She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes–

Her expression stole his breath. He had not hung the stars in the sky, nor had he wrought treasures like the Silmarils. He had not created even a single thing of beauty. All he'd done was try to give his children a home.

And yet...she looked at him as though he was more worthy of praise than the most virtuous of kings, the most honorable of knights, and the most devoted of husbands. Could it be possible?

Could she...?

"I am afraid that I have little experience with love, Adar, but I will help if I can." As afraid as he might be of losing her, he must speak now or lose her forever.

"In your opinion, who is worthy of love?" He asked, and she let out a small huff of laughter, as if the question was a foolish one. "Have I said something amusing?"

"A bit," she admitted, but she was quick to place her free hand over his heart, "but not in the way you might think. Everyone is worthy of love, even - and, perhaps, most especially - the Lord-Father of the Uruks."

Was he truly so transparent that she could see his fears so easily? Or had she managed to worm her way so far into his heart without his knowledge that it was already a bosom companion to her own?

"...And you have it." His eyes snapped back up to hers - when had he looked away? His hunger and adoration for her rose up in a great wave, consuming him from the inside as he wove his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and drew her into a passionate kiss.

He'd dreamed of having her pressed up against him, of drinking her pleasure from her lips.

She moaned into Adar's mouth, and he was struck by the realization that she was so much better than any phantom images that his imagination could conjure. He dragged his lips and teeth to the corner of her jaw, and spoke in a hoarse, rasping whisper.

"I need you as I need air, meleth-nin." He grasped her waist as her arms drew him ever closer. "You steal my breath, yet without you I cannot breathe. Have mercy...Have mercy upon your most devoted servant..."

As the orange sky bled pink, his lips trailed down her neck, savoring those places which had driven him to the edge of madness when he sampled her before the fire. His name escaped her lips on the back of a desperate whine.

"What do you need? Tell me," Adar breathed, and she tilted her head to offer him more of her neck.

"Take me, touch me, please! I'll be good, so good, only for you," she begged, and the sound went straight to the stiffening length between his legs. He would love nothing more than to have her beg for him all night, but this time she would have no need to. Tonight, the beginning of their time as one, he would fulfill her every desire with a minimum of teasing. He'd done too much of that of late.

Her fingers dove into his hair, and a moan poured from his throat, rumbling against her pretty skin.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to be a good girl for me?" She released a varied stream of yeses and pleas for him to do as he wished with her, and he acceded to her request with a kiss, quelling any doubt she may have had that he would do this for her. He would do anything for her, even unto the destruction of Middle Earth. "Do you wish to be mine?"

"Yes!" Her answer was akin to a desperate sob, and he wasted no time, immediately indulging her.

Tugging his cloak from his armor, Adar spread it over the grass. He would not have her dress covered in stains, nor grass blades stuck to her skin. The cloth created a sharp contrast - an onyx patch amidst a sea of pinks, purples, reds, and yellows - the dark to the meadow's light, just as she was the light to his darkness. She completed him, enthralled him, drove him mad, and tonight he would show her just how much.

She went for the ties fastening her dress, but he caught her hands in his and took over. She was a gift more precious than anything which the Valar could bestow upon their servants, and he would unwrap her accordingly.

As the laces binding the back of her dress fell away one at a time, Adar explored his lover's mouth with all the tenderness and gentleness that his cruel, twisted body could muster. He hadn't even realized that her tricky little fingers had begun to fiddle with his armor until his breastplate fell away.

In a flurry of discarded garments, they were each revealed to the other in all their beauty and all their flaws. Their shared vulnerability stilled their hands for an anxious moment, but only for a moment.

Adar's breath hitched in his chest when the soft lips he'd tasted mere seconds before connected with the scarred flesh over his heart. He'd expected pity, fear, regret - not reverence. Instead, as she looked up at him, he saw nothing but sincerity in her expression.

"You are gorgeous," she said, as though she could not tell that he had but one part of his body which was untouched by scars.

...As though she meant it. He realized with a sharp intake of breath that she did. She grasped his hands and they sank onto his cloak together, she on her back and he kneeling between her legs. His interest jutted toward her, but he could not find it within himself to be ashamed, not when he was with her. Not when a piece of his armor hung on a chain around her neck, resting comfortably above her breast.

"There is no beauty finer in this world than yours."

Spread nude before him over his cloak, Adar's lady looked up at him with an adoration he had not believed possible. Not when directed at an Uruk such as he. His lips met hers once more, but this time, he forced himself to be much more controlled. He wanted her, yes, but he also wanted her to know that she had his love.

Kissing his way steadily down her body, the Lord-Father of the Uruks had no doubt that he must look as hungry for her as he felt. Practically feral with pent-up desire, he needed her writhing on his tongue. His hands trembled with the effort it took to slow his movements, to take his time.

Abruptly, as his eyes met hers from between her legs, he realized that she very much had the capacity to destroy him. With a single declaration of hatred or a look of disgust, she could easily take his stone heart and pulverize it into powder.

How easily could she shred beyond repair what little remained of his soul!

Not even Morgoth had been able to do that. This mortal woman, this sweet, brave lady had no idea of the power that she possessed. The smart thing to do - the strategically wise path - would have been to kill her then and there while she lay vulnerable and trusting before him, begging for one more touch, one more kiss, one more moan, one more scrap of his attention.

Instead, he picked up his discarded gauntlet and slid her much smaller hand inside it. The clasps were quick work, and though she looked confused at first, once he lifted her thighs over his shoulders and guided her hand to his hair, understanding dawned in her eyes. She understood. He wanted her to feel powerful. She was his equal and she deserved to know it.

Even with sharp, unyielding metal covering her fingertips, they scraped so gently over his scalp as he lost himself in the flood between her thighs. She moaned and whimpered, squirming in his hold, but through it all, she never once hurt him.

Adar knew that she wouldn't. Even as she cried out his name for all the world to hear, drenching his tongue and chin, her grip in his hair was careful. Her thighs tensed in his grasp, squeezing his head in an intoxicating vice. Groaning and snarling against her sensitive folds, he couldn't bring himself to pull away until she was shaking in the midst of over-sensitivity.

"Adar, please," she breathed as he moved up her body. Hunger raged and burned in his eyes - he could deny himself no longer. Grasping her wrists, he pinned them easily above her head as he claimed her lips. His tongue delved into the softness of her mouth, taking with it the lingering taste of her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him close enough for his tip to catch on her entrance. With synchronized groans, he pressed inside of her, joining their bodies together as one.

Profane language not meant for the ears of such a creature as her spilled from his throat in a guttural stream of Black Speech. Dipping his head, Adar moaned against her breast and surged forward, drawing a sinful mewl from deep within her throat.

"You have me. You take me so well," he praised in a raspy whisper, nibbling at her earlobe as he thrust into her slowly. Gradually, she stripped him of his sense and control, tugging from within him a steady flow of praise and filth in Elvish and Black Speech - promises to treasure her for the rest of his days, to protect her, and to draw from her so many screams each night that all of Mordor would be unable to deny his claim over her.

When she managed to roll her hips beneath him to meet his thrusts, begging him to use her, to ruin her, what could he do but grant his lady's wish?

In a quick movement, he'd repositioned them both so that she was astride his hips. Pulling her arms behind her back and tugging slightly so that her chest was pushed toward him, Adar looked into her eyes.

"If you wish your lord to use you, then move those hips," he ordered. Leaning in, he brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear and whispered a bit more gently to her. "Ride me, meleth. Show me that I have you."

She obeyed him instantly, finding a steady rhythm which, aided by his fingers toying with her clit, would have her tipping over the edge in mere moments. Indeed, her hips soon stuttered, and he gripped the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Do not look away. Look at the pleasure I can give you," he commanded, and as she nodded frantically, beginning to fall apart, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. "Yes, look upon the Uruk who loves you."

At that, she sobbed and collided firmly with her orgasm. She fluttered around his length, calling his name in lovelorn whimpers and gasps.

Who needed Valinor when she was its very embodiment?

He released her wrists, and she threw her arms around his neck, claiming his lips with her own. His hands slid down her back, landing squarely on her hips. Holding her steady, Adar thrust up into her, making her yelp in surprise. He needed very little now; he was close.

"Where do you wish me?" Adar breathed against her lips, and he could feel the heat burning her cheeks.

"Inside," she answered hiding her face against his neck, and he moaned against her shoulder. Her name tore from him in an almost pained whine as he spilled within her. He clutched her to him so tightly that he'd undoubtedly left bruises in his wake, but he would kiss them all in apology when they'd caught their breath.

Neither seemed eager to release the other, so in their embrace they remained exploring one another with gentle fingers and loving lips until long after the moon had risen and stars had winked their way into the sky. When he dared to lean back far enough to look into her eyes, Adar was met with love bathed in glittering starlight.

He wondered if he'd hurt her, but the smile stretching her lips said otherwise. The armor piece that she'd made into a necklace still rested upon the smooth expanse of her chest - a perfect accompaniment to his gauntlet upon her arm.

The ride back to camp seemed too short by far, but their bedrolls - which would soon be joined into one - called out to them so sweetly. Adar was used to the bows and deference he received from his children, but he knew in his heart that his decision had been right when upon their return he heard the Uruks repeating a particular phrase as they passed.

His lover had heard part of it before, but now there were a few more words to it.

"What is that they keep saying?" She whispered the question to him, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling proudly. "It sounds familiar, but different."

"'Tis Black Speech. They are saying 'make way for the Lord and Lady of Mordor,'" he answered kissing her temple as they approached their home.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp

[theemporium]

[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.

.

“Fuck.” 

Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.

“You good?” 

“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”

“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”

The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”

Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”

“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 

“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”

Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”

Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”

“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 

“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”

“Mhm.”

“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”

“I’m good.”

“Jack—”

“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”

Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.

Not yet, at least.

Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.

...

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...

“What are you giggling at?”

“I’m not giggling at anything.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 

It was starting to grate on his last nerve.

“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 

“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 

But Luke heard loud and clear.

He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 

“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 

A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.

Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 

“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 

“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 

“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 

“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 

“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 

“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 

“That’s not important.”

Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 

Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 

“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 

“Maybe.” 

“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 

Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 

“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 

But he did. 

He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 

...

liked by jackhughes and 213,839 others

yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at home❤️🖤

view 12,930 comments

user MOTHER!!!

user hot AND talented. your fav could never

user new music when!!!

user THE SHIRT-

jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍

user not this guy again

user not a man

notzegrasipromise JACK???

...

...

“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 

That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 

Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”

“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.

“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”

“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”

Jack’s cheeks burned. 

Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”

“She likes them!” Jack defended. 

Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.

“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.

“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.

“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”

Once again, the locker room fell silent.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 

Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 

“So are you!” 

“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”

“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”

The boys all gave each other various looks.

“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”

For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 

...

liked by jackhughes and 362,373 others

yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!❤️🖤

view all 14,737 comments

user i cannot believe the tour is almost over

user NEW MUSIC WHEN

user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!

user oh my god she is so hot

jackhughes coming back to the better coast❤️🖤

user omg he is copying the hearts too

user he is delusional

user it is the devils colours

user you sound just as delusional as him

...

“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 

“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.

“And I went on Twitter.”

“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.

“Jack.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”

“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 

“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”

“Uh huh.”

“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 

“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”

His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 

“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”

“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”

Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 

quinnifer: ur right 

quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause

...

liked by jackhughes and 983,373 others

yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes ❤️🖤

view all 37,373 comments

jackhughes glad to have my girl home❤️🖤

user WHAT

user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick

user i can't believe we lost her to a man

user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE

user omg he actually stood a chance

trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK

trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock

user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS

lhughes_06 holy shit

_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming

trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend

jackhughes he will be fine

trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE

trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY

jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend

yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included

trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff

user what the fuck did i just wake up to

.

[zevrra]

LaDS—

synopsis: random hc’s i have for the men of love & deepspace!!

tags: 18(+) only, mdni, pretty nsfw, suggestive content, sylus, rafayel, xavier, zayne, LaDS MC(18+), my personal hc’s!

SYLUS—

has a very strict routine and hates when he has to change something in it

annoys you constantly bc he finds it funny

can and will steal your clothes and hide them so your forced to walk around in his house with next to nothing on

would buy you a collar

seems like this giant asshole but would actually kill for you

the second he hears about some lowlife messing with you it’s almost immediately that you never see them again

possessive !!!!!!!

gets jealous pretty easily as well

has to remind you why you are his and only his

toxic bf

leaves hickies/bite marks all over your neck specifically so other people can see them

is soooo into choking/breath play that goes both ways too!!!

he wants you to use him as you see fit

that is until he takes control and uses you like a new toy and does it all for his own pleasure

degrades you the entire time while he pulls your hair

asks you constantly who you belong to as he fucks ruthlessly into you from behind

“if i can’t have you, no one can.”

RAFAYEL—

either he calls you 26 times a day or will call you the second you wake up and stay on the phone the entire day

drops by unexpectedly at your house

brings you anything he sees that reminds him of you

you have a jar full of everything ranging from pearls, seashells, to aged flowers

secretly tries to befriend a stray cat he had caught you taking care of

even if he dislikes it he’d do anything for you

you are 100% his muse

has several sculptures or giant sets of paintings modeled after you

would showcase a gallery of just the paintings he’s done of you

yaps 24/7 to anyone willing to listen to him talk anout his “amazingly, wonderful, kickass girlfriend”

gets flustered so easily

also gets sooo horny if he sees you wearing his clothes

if you start anything sexual, at first he tries to stop you/hold himself back but if you keep pushing he’ll eventually snap

fucks you so so so good after he stops holding himself back too

fav position is missionary because he loves seeing your face, loves watching you as you take him in so well and deep

“i love you, i love you, stay with me forever, i need you, please.” in your ear the entire time

you both share a bubble bath after you’re done for the night

and once you both are too worn out to move anymore, you fall asleep with him at your back, curled up like a cat

XAVIER—

sleepy bf who takes 36 naps a day!!

you don’t have to worry about him when he’s not answering your texts, you just know he’s sleeping

“sorry fell asleep”

loves giving you his clothes to wear he genuinely enjoys seeing you in his wardrobe so much

hates crowds but goes along with any thing you suggest solely because he gets to hold your hand the entire time

would also willing kill for you just doesn’t make it as obvious as some

loves loves loves kissing

little spoon!!!!

will call you over for a movie date solely so he can sleep on top of you while you watch the movie

coexisting together is all he needs

you only ever see him truly awake during two things, missions & when he’s going down on you

truly is a different person when it comes to day vs night

during the day he’s soft, nods along with everything you say, looks at you lovingly

at night he’s hungry, wants to worship you and make you his

looks at you like he’s starving and you’re his last meal when he eats you out

rarely makes noise when you two make love until he’s close

lock your legs around him and force him to stay inside will 100% make him want to go a second round

his stamina is truly unmatched

he loooooves watching you ride him too

after you two finish, you both have to immediately shower together or else you’ll fall asleep in each other’s arms right after

ZAYNE—

is always busy but never busy enough he doesn’t see you

regularly forces his schedule open solely to spend time with you

not a morning person at all i swear

he’s groggy, hates getting up so early even if he has too

either sleeps the entire night on his back or anything but his back

also very possessive!!!

keeps a hand on your thigh whenever you two are out

buys you anything that you look at for too long

cute shirt in the store window? yours. want to try the new restaurant downtown? puts a reservation in the second you bring it up

doesn’t think himself worthy to have sex with you but after some convincing he’s the most tender, caring lover

but that doesn’t mean he isn’t fast and rough, pounding into you while he tells you how beautiful you look

also secretly think he’s into fucking you in public, especially at his office ugh

“god baby, you’re taking me so well.”

regularly only calls you darling or by your name until things turn intimate and he’s a slew of “baby, babygirl, my princess”

aftercare aftercare aftercare aftercare—

is all about aftercare!!! loves taking a shower with you and treating you like his queen

makes sure you’re all taken care of before he even focuses on himself

doesn’t fall asleep until after you do

[bbydoll18xx]

I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Part 2)

You give Paige some guidance when it comes to self-pleasure.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 1

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes: mentions of sex, sex toys, and some ~self-pleasure~

A/N: hiii guys!!! I honestly cannot get over the love for part 1. That was probably one of my favorite things I’ve written since I’ve been here on tumblr, and I’m so glad you guys shared the love 💜😚

I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint!!

Here we go!!

~

“You shoulda seen the way she was blushing! I’ve never seen her act that way!” KK roars to the rest of UConn’s women’s basketball team, the girls leaning forward in extreme interest as KK recounts how Paige had turned into a bumbling mess in your presence the day prior. 

“God, KK, shut up. I did not,” Paige whines, her face growing warm with humiliation. 

“There she goes again,” Jana teases, and the girls erupt into another round of laughter. 

“Y’all suck,” Paige pouts, walking off the basketball court and heading towards the locker room for a much needed reprieve. 

The taunting had yet to stop since she had stepped foot in the sex shop a week prior. KK and Ice had hunted down valuable information that a certain someone had worked there, and they had forced Paige to come inside, knowing you were standing behind the counter.

Paiges’ thoughts drift back to that day, as they had nearly a million times the past week, and she muses over the way your hair had flowed over your shoulders and your lips glistened pink.

Her crush on you was unwavering, the same way the ocean waves continuously kissed the shoreline. 

And despite what nearly everyone had perceived about Paige Bueckers, she was absolutely terrified when it came to expressing her feelings. Especially about you. So she bottled them up, settling for watching you from afar with a hope that maybe she’d muster up the courage to talk to you.

That was until her teammates had made the decision to do so for her. 

She really couldn't be all that mad at them.

Her crush on you had started three years ago. The two of you had shared a fondness for studying in the same area of the library, where it was quiet and away from the loudness of your respective roommates. Paige’s grades had always been good, but the daily motivation of seeing you, tongue occasionally peaking out in concentration and your body nestled in large, comfy-looking sweatshirts had Paige securing her place on the Dean’s List semester after semester. 

And with everything Paige did, she completely lacked subtlety when it came to you, and it only took a few longing glances in your direction for Ice and KK to connect the dots. 

~

“Oh, c’mon you can’t be mad at me,” KK whines, running into the locker room after Paige. 

Paige rolls her eyes. “Well, you ain’t gotta put me on blast.” She sits on the bench, putting her head in her hands.

“You’re being way too dramatic. She offered to show you how to use the damn toy,” KK stresses, and Paige’s face goes pink again.

“Soo,” she drags out the word with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Just take her up on the offer and boom you can have sex and then live happily ever after!” 

Paige’s eyes widen as KK, in the midst of her rambling, doesn’t see Coach Geno walk in behind her. 

Based on the look on his face, he had definitely heard KK, and he clears his throat, causing KK to whip around, her hand flying over her mouth as she pieces the situation together.

“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath, sending a weak smile over to Geno, who just waves her away, a disgusted grimace on his face.

But as Geno rambles on about how the practice went, Paige’s thoughts drift back to the way you suggested to help her. 

Would you really want to? Paige was navigating something completely new, and it was stressing her the fuck out.

If only there was a way to get rid of the pent up anxiety.

~

On the other side of campus, you were having a similar dilemma. You had been trying to work out what had come over you yesterday when you had boldly and uncharacteristically offered to teach Paige Bueckers how to use a vibrator.

The interaction plays in your mind for the millionth time, and you slap a palm across your forehead in frustration.

“I am so fucking stupid,” you groan, catching the attention of your roommate who was working on a paper at the seat across from you at your most favorite spot in the library.

“What’d you do now?” She asks, and you divulge her in yesterday's interaction with Paige, and her eyes widen.

“Dude, you have been drooling over her for the past three years, and you’re telling me you’re not going to wife her up?” She asks in a hushed whisper.

“I think she was just being polite,” you sigh. “We exchanged numbers, but I’ve been too scared to do anything.”

Charlotte shakes her head in mock derision, “I raised you better than that.”

You sit there a moment, contemplating. 

“Fuck. Okay, I’m gonna do it.” 

Pulling out your phone, you pull up Paige’s contact information, your fingers shaking slightly as they ghost over the keypad. 

“Hi, still need some help? If not, no big deal. Just thought I couldn’t leave a pretty girl stranded,” you read out to Charlotte as you compose the text, and she claps loudly in approval.

“God I hope she doesn't think I'm some sort of sex addict,” you moan, looking at the delivered sign under the text. 

~

Back in the locker room, Paige nearly chokes on a swig of water as your text appears on her screen. Aubrey, who is sitting next to her, slaps her on the back a few times, before leaning over to take a good look at what was causing the reaction.

Aubrey hoots loudly as she reads the text and promptly snatches Paige’s phone out of her hands to show it to KK, who had proudly deemed herself the captain of yours and Paige’s ship.

“FINALLY!” KK yells, fist pumping the air with great enthusiasm, and the whole locker room erupts into laughter again. 

Paige rereads the text. And then again. Your words were flirty and sure, just as they had been yesterday, and Paige is once again reduced to a blushing, simpering mess. 

She looks around the room, eyes wide and a shy grin on her face. “What do I say?” And the girls erupt again.

“Tell her you wanna fu—” KK starts eagerly before Azzi, who was sitting next to the younger girl, covers her mouth with a sharp look on her face. KK moves Azzi’s hand away, pouting and muttering to herself about how she’s “just tryna help Paige get some pussy.”

With pink cheeks and a pounding heart, Paige composes a reply, hiding her phone from the curious eyes of her teammates, hoping it seemed way more confident than she felt. You had a strange effect on her, reducing her assured ways into a bumbling mess, teetering on the edge of falling into madness.

And it was just the beginning. 

After all, you had yet to even touch her. 

~

That night you stand in front of Paige’s door with a pounding heart, determined to keep up the facade you had attached to your being, and as she appears on the other side, it is cemented. 

There was just something about seeing a bashful Paige Bueckers that makes your confidence soar, and you send her a cheeky smile, reveling in her mannerisms.

Paige leads you into her bedroom, and you immediately spot the purple vibrator laying atop of the comforter. 

You break the ice. “So what’s stopping you from finishing?” You ask, looking her in the eyes.

An embarrassed chuckle leaves those pink lips, and she rubs a hand over the back of her neck. “I guess I just keep gettin’ distracted,” she mumbles, and you nod in understanding.

“I like to think about someone,” you say boldly and pointedly. “If you close your eyes and immerse yourself into a fantasy, it’s almost like they’re there with you.” 

You watch as she takes a deep breath, like she’s mentally preparing for what she says next.

“Can I try again? And you can walk me through it?” 

The air leaves your lungs, surprised by her suggestion, and you agree before any other thought could cross your mind. 

The situation was something out of a filthy romance book, and as Paige undresses down to her boxers and her sports bra, you thank every star you had wished on the last three years for letting this happen. 

Paige settles onto her pillows, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, and with shaky hands, grabs the vibrator.

“P,” you say softly, and her eyes fly back open, meeting yours. “Use your hands first. Tease yourself, and let the arousal build up,” you suggest kindly, and she nods, putting the toy back down.

She runs her hands across her toned stomach, causing your own to lurch with want. Her hair was sprawled out on the pillows, and her bottom lip was red and plump from biting it, and despite just getting started, she looked completely fucked out. 

You secretly hope the image never leaves your memory.

Paige continues to tease herself, her fingers delicately dancing across the fabric of her boxers, and a quiet moan leaves her mouth. Her eyes are still closed in concentration, and you wished you could peer into her thoughts, hoping you were the object of her most intimate fantasies. 

And as if she could read your thoughts, your name leaves her mouth in a broken whimper that has you wanting to jump her bones and connect that sinful mouth with yours.

She’s panting now. Her eyes open, those crystal clear baby blues pleading for more. The unspoken words spoken between the two of you bridged a formidable bond, and you know at that point that this would lead to a whole lot more than offering friendly tips on masterbation. 

“Need more,” she whispers, her lithe body squirming on the bed hinting at her growing arousal. 

“Okay, baby, now take the vibrator and start at your tits and run it down your stomach,” you instruct, your voice nearly trembling. 

The quiet buzz fills the room before it’s cut with Paige’s whimpers as she runs the toy over her now exposed breasts. The pointed, pink peaks of her nipples make your own strain against the lace of your bra, and you shift uncomfortably in the gaming chair you are sitting in. 

The toy gets dragged over her belly, going lower and lower until it grazes the waistband of her underwear, and with a frustrated sigh, she lifts her butt to rip off the offending fabric. 

And now she was laid out bare in front of you, occasionally peeking at you, making sure you were still watching. 

You could not look away, and your body subconsciously leans forward toward the blonde girl. 

She places the buzzing toy on her clit, her back arching off the bed in response, moaning in pleasure. Her hips jump, grinding against the vibrator, desperately seeking an orgasm that had been denied from her several times over the past week. 

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” you whisper, enthralled with the display in front of you, and Paige opens her eyes once more at your praise, sending you a needy look and a pout. 

“Keep going,” you encourage, and she adjusts the vibration, a higher pitched buzz ringing through the small room. 

Paige’s skin glows with a subtle sheen of sweat and arousal that you want to meticulously lick, and her whimpers grow louder as she squirms, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“Fuck, gonna cum,” she groans, and you bite your lip, her noises effecting every fiber of your being. 

And with a loud moan, your name leaves her mouth, along with a long string of expletives, as her back arches off the comforter again. Her chest heaves as the orgasm rips through her, and her eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure.

Your gaze rakes over her, taking in the gorgeous woman laid out before you, watching as she slowly comes down from the high. 

“Oh my god,” Paige breathes heavily, suddenly feeling exposed and shy again. 

“That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you admit, your own cheeks flushed with arousal, and Paige’s eyes trail to your peaked nipples straining against the fabric of your shirt. 

“I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. And that was the best fuckin’ orgasm I have ever had,” she responds, putting her underwear back on, much to your displeasure. 

“Thank you,” she adds shyly.

You shrug, moving to sit next to her on the bed, you run your hand across the flesh of her thigh, goosebumps erupting in its wake.

And before you can even make your own move, Paige connects your lips in an impassioned kiss that adds fuel to the fire that was raging in your core. The kiss was messy with unrestrained want and need, swapping unsaid words that had been brewing in both of your heads over the last three years.

The two of you had unknowingly fallen in love with the thought of each other, and now, here you were, falling right into each other. 

And it wasn’t going to stop there. 

~

The next afternoon, you are back at work, your mind continuously going back to the delicious display of Paige’s naked body. You had been on the edge all day, dying to get home to rub one out. Or four, if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

Sitting in the back room in front of the fan, desperately needing a cool off, you hear the familiar jingle of the bell on the front door, alerting you that someone had entered the shop. You take a few deep breaths, trying to compose yourself. 

It was hard to be cordial when you were surrounded by sex toys.

You walk out of the back room, your eyes immediately trained on Paige who was now standing at the front counter with a huge smirk on her face. 

Blushing you walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers, the taste of her mouth sending your body up in flames once more.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask breathily.

Paige gestures towards the package she had set on the counter with a wide smile. “Figured I’d add to the collection. Wanted to buy something for your pleasure,” she adds casually.

Your belly lurches as your eyes land on the strap on, a deep purple and six inches of thick rubber.

“Fuck me,” you breathe, feeling yourself drip with excitement at the thought.

“Oh, I plan to,” Paige grins, and she pulls you in for another kiss.

Things were just getting started.

~

This was a blast to write!! Also I am obsessed with shy, blushy Paige

xoxo katy

~

You can now read part 3 here

[tonixe]

౨ৎ megumi's mom

A/N: cross-posted from my smut book on wattpadd/a03. Hahaha, two for two for posting; this is a streak. This is just some indulgence and lowkey inspired by something I read on a03, <3.

WARNING: p in the v, cunnilingus, oral sex (female receiving), no condom we fuck raw, fondling, fingering, dinner room sex, we freakkahh. not proofread lol

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x milf!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2768

Gojo Satoru had never been the type to get too involved in his students' personal lives. He was a teacher, a mentor, and sometimes, a nuisance to them—but with Megumi, things had always been different. He had been through a lot of things, he was tough, independent, and smart, so it wasn't odd for Satoru to help him, guide him—not as a student but he really did care about Megumi.

-And that is how he ended up in your living room,

You had invited him over for dinner as a thank you for looking out for your son, Megumi, and honestly, Gojo wasn't going to turn down a free meal and you...

You were Megumi's mom. You were effortlessly beautiful—the kind of woman who didn't have to try. The way you talked to him with warmth in your voice, not to mention the large assets you had, the way your apron curved your bosom—it made it better that you were divorcee, meaning you were single and ready to date, maybe...

He was so down bad.

"So..gojo" you said, placing a plate in front of him as you took a seat across from him, "You've been really looking out for Megumi all these years, and I really appreciate it a lot" You smiled, clasping your hands,

Gojo leaned back in his chair, flashing you one of his infamous easy-going grins on his face, he couldn't lie the way you said his name made his heart skip a beat, "Ah—don't mention it. The kid is practically family at this point" Gojo glanced at Megumim who gave him a deadpan stare before continuing his meal.

"I just hope he's not giving you a hard time," you said, you glanced at Megumi whose attention was focused on his plate.

"Oh, he's a little menace" Gojo teased, watching as Megumi scowled, "—But I don't mind, he's got potential"

You won't lie, the tenderness of his voice as he spoke made your chest tighten—he wasn't being just nice, but—he genuinely meant it.

The dinner continued, it was just some casual conversation between you and him, and Megumi just finished his dinner, then excused himself, muttering something about homework.

"You know..for someone who is strong, you're pretty soft with him" you mused, taking a sip of your wine in your glass, Gojo chuckled, resting his chin in his palm as he looked at you, "What can I say? He's got a great mom" 

God..

You shouldn't have been looking at him like that—you cleared your throat at the obvious flirtatious comment,

Gojo was sitting across from you, a relaxed, cocky smirk playing on his lips. His silver-white hair was slightly tousled like he hadn't tried to fix it before showing up. His blindfold was off, with some damn eyes—blue eyes, fixed on you. You couldn't help but look away, as you focused on the wine glass in your hand, 

maybe you had too much to drink—you were always a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

It had been years since you really dated after Toji...walked out of your life—leaving you with Megumi, a broken home, and wound that just never healed right. The divorce had been messy, it was just filled with treatment and exhaustion—you tried telling yourself you were better off without him, that just managed to survive the worst and you would be the best mom to Megumi. Love was just nothing, only a fleeting illusion for the eyes, and the heart. But there were some nights, that you were in your bed, staring at the empty side of where he used to sleep,

now your eyes were on your glass, gojo was different, yea? He is different than Toji, he is playful, infuriating, and ridiculous—he talks too much, teases you, and—really cares about Megumi more than his own father did, you bit your lip

you started seeing him differently, you blinked, oh god—you were staring at him he whole time...you felt cheeks heating up 

"Hey," Gojo's voice cut through your thoughts, light and amused. "You zoned out on me? You looked real deep in though just now."

You parted your lips, "I was just... thinking about how much Megumi has changed" you voice softer than you intended, you chose your words carefully, "You've been really good to him" 

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with those blue eyes, "Well—I take my job as  his annoyingly cool teacher very seriously"

You huffed quietly, shaking your head, "I mean it, Gojo...you didn't have to go out of your way for him, but you did" At that moment you felt something inside of you crack, you felt your throat tightening—the weight of everything in your life, the years of doing this alone, of carrying the burden of raising a child alone, while feeling you had no one to lean on—you inhale sharply,

Your fingers trembling with your glass, you felt warm tears slipping down your cheeks, you turned your face away quickly, pressing the heels of your palm against your eyes, embarrassed, "God—I'm sorry" you choked out, a watery laugh escaping your lips,

 "I don't even know...why i-"

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then Gojo was right by your side, crouching beside you, closer to you.

 He didn't speak right away, no jokes just stared at you, 

"You don't have to do this alone, y'know" his voice was quieter, and you felt his hand brushing your cheek, you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain control of your breathing, the warmth of his voice—the quiet sincerity of his words just unraveled you.

"I'm sorry, I have just been doing this alone, for so long" you whispered, your fingers curled against your lap, you didn't why you were saying this to him, as you tried to wipe your tears away, breathing out. 

Gojo just nodded, sighing out, rubbing the back of his neck before he spoke again, softer this time, "Yeah...I figured.."

You let out a weak, watery laugh, "Of course you did" 

Gojo smiled—small, but real. He didn't try to tell you that everything as fine, or that you were strong—or that you didn't need to cry. You wiped your eyes, sniffling, "Gosh, I'm sorry I probably look like a mess"

Gojo tilted his head, "Nah..just a little damp, kinda cute actually"

You scoffed at these playful words, rolling your eyes, your lips twitched upwards, "God, you really can't help yourself, can you, gojo" you smiled,

"Nope" he grinned, "But hey if it makes you smile, I'll take the risk"

 You felt the air shifting between you, as Gojo still crouched beside you, watching you with a certain look, you weren't sure of—something softer, unreadable. His usually cocky smirk was replaced by an expression that made you catch your breath.

Your heart pounded as you forced yourself to look away, but you couldn't—"Hey," he murmured, his voice was low, edged with something different.

You barely had the time to process before you felt his fingers brush against your chin, lightly, barely there—but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He tilted your face toward him, waiting, giving you the space to pull away, but you didn't,

then he kissed you, it was gentle, and his lips were warm, and soft, as it was pressed against yours. A quiet sigh escaping your lips,

You felt his hand moving, sliding along your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your tears, as he deepened the kiss, pulling you in, his touch was firm but careful. Gojo couldn't lie like he wasn't waiting to do this to you.

 Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him onto him as you felt the world blurring around you both. It has been so long since you did this—someone that touched like this..since someone genuinely wanted you like this—the worst part about it,

it felt good, it was too good, you wanted it more.

When he finally pulled back from you, his breath was slightly uneven, 

"I want..more" you mumbled, your voice dazed, gripping his shirt. You heard a chuckle erupting from him as he looked at you, it made your whole body shiver. You couldn't lie that you were aroused from just the kiss alone, 

you knew something—dangerous was going to happen if you kept on kissing him, the way his hands were crawling on your body, 

but you didn't care...

𝜗𝜚

 You practically made out with your son's teacher again, you were sitting on top of the table as you kissed him more, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips as you wrapped your legs around him.

"God—you're so beautiful" he breathed into your send, which made you even wetter, you moaned softly as he kissed you again. Gojo's hands slipped under your blouse, cupping your breast and making you grasp. You arched against his touch, as a low chuckle erupted from his throat, his fingers, 

"No bra, huh?" he teased, as he roughly rubbed your nipples with his fingers, making you jolt up.  

"You have really pretty moans, you know" he whispered in your ears, before leaving little kisses along your neck, his eyes drinking the sight of your aroused state. You wrapped your arms around him, wanting to pull him even closer than he was before, 

"Gojo—" you moaned, 

"Satoru" he stopped, turning his head at your dazed expression, 

"Call me that, love" 

Before you can process, you were lying on the table, with him above you. His slender, fingers danced across the clothed cunt,  before ripping it off, "Satoru—" You arched your back at the feeling of his fingers entering you, your hands immediately on his forearm, at the sudden intrusion.

"Your s' wet for me" he mused, his voice was husky, making you even more nervous, but you just nodded. You were so overwhelmed—you hadn't had sex in a while, maybe that was why your body was so responsive to his touch, so sensitive. His fingers thrust into you slowly, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit, making you moan in pleasure, 

His fingers dug deeper into your tight folds, picking up the pace. You were gripping the tablecloth on the table, arching your back in pure pleasure. You were gasping for air, moaning, overwhelmed by the sensation that was coursing in your body,

"S-satoru!" you moaned, he wasn't going to stop, feeling his fingers touching your g-spot. Making you jolt, clenching down on his fingers. You were so close to cumming on his fingers, your mind was hazy—what were you doing.

How long were you even able to reach your orgasm, or have sex after Toji, you didn't know but you craved it, and you were getting it with Gojo. 

Suddenly, you felt the intrusion leaving you, as he pulled his fingers out of you. You felt a twinge of disappointment, you looked up at him, confused. 

"Don't worry—I just wanna taste you" he whispered in your ears, making you shiver. As you watched him moving in between your legs, your eyes widened at what he was doing, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue pressing on your cunt, it was a wave crashing over you. As he licked your slit slowly, teasing you. His tongue pressed against your clit, circling around it.

You were embarrassed—I mean you craved this attention, not knowing how much you need it—fuck, you don't remember Toji ever doing this to you, mostly him fucking you still he was cummed into you, leaving you alone. But when Gojo finally pushed his tongue into you, you moaned at the sensation, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You help but to squirm beneath him, his soft hands on your thighs, holding your thighs up. You arched your back—how many times was he hitting your sensitive spots? Wrapping your legs around his head, urging him to go deeper into you, 

"Haaa~" you moaned, rolling your eyes back,

His tongue flicked against your sensitive spot, as you shuddered in delight, whimpering against his touch. You were losing yourself in the sensation, your hair sprawled out on the dining room table, while your own son's teacher was eating you out.

"Satoru..m' so close" you whimpered,

He didn't respond but kept on flicking his tongue against your spots. The coil in your stomach was unraveling as he pushed his tongue, savoring your taste. You cried out, your body shuddering with pleasure as you came on his tongue, your toes curling as you moaned out. His tongue still lapping every drop of your cum on his tongue, making you overstimulate.

Your gaze was on the ceiling as you tried to collect yourself, your cunt throbbing after the crash of pleasure on your body, hearing the shifting between your legs, looking at Gojo standing between your legs, your juices still staining his face,

"Taste good as the meal" Gojo smiled, making you even more embarrassed, before you felt his grip pulling you closer to him. The feeling of his hardened cloth cock on your cunt, made you shudder,

 "You ready for Ms. L/N" Your eyes widened as he gestured to his hardness, making you blush.  You turned your head, nodding. 

You felt his hands underneath your chin, "You need to use your words like a big girl" he teased, your eyes looking into his crystal blue ones, 

"I..i—want your cock..please" you mumbled, looking away after you said it.

"Good" you watched as he smirked— you didn't know when he even took his pants off, but his cock was huge, your eyes widening at the sight of it. You felt your cunt throbbing at only the sight of it, as you bit your lip, as he positioned himself at your entrance. You immediately put your arms around his neck readying yourself for his dick.

You looked up, your lips parting, "You ready for me big girl..." 

You nodded, biting your lips, feeling his cock sinking into your cunt, the burning sensation making you groan out, his hands on around your waist—rubbing your waist as you adjusted to his abnormally large size, before his hips started pumping into you. 

His hips roll back to you, feeling your cunt being stretched out—he was just so big, you felt stuffed with him fucking into you, your head throwing up in ecstasy, moaning his name. 

the sound of sex echoing through the dining room, 

Your body was trembling, with his thick cock thrusting into you, over and over. Your breathing gets frantic, the simple pleasure making your head spin. Your hand was holding onto for dear life, 

"Oh god," you cried out, his hands gripping your hips, feeling his finger digging into your soft, delicate flesh as he pounded into you. The table creaks beneath them as he fucks you, 

'Fuck' he grunts into your ear, you just moaned in response losing yourself in the sensation coursing your body. Every nerve in your body was on fire, electrified, as his hips smacked into you. 

You felt that familiar sensation in your stomach coming, as his cock hit your cervix, hitting you just right, making your toes curls. His rhythm was getting erratic, his thrusts growing faster and frantic, sending you over the edge.

He was close, you were close,

"Cum in me,—please.." you moaned out, you didn't care what you were saying at this point, you just wanted him. You felt a wave of pleasure waving onto you—so familiar, as he stretched your walls out, hitting the right spots with repetition. A strangled moan escaped your lips as you felt waves of pleasure crashing down on you again, 

Goj, gripping down onto your hips as you clenched around him, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, as you moaned out. Your walls clamping down his throbbing cock, milking him for all he got.

"S-shit" Gojo groaned, his hips jerking against you, you were dazed, sensitive. His fingers find themselves on your clit, harshly rubbing it, making you jolt up.

Heard his sharp intake of breath, as you felt him emptying himself into you, the warmness of his hot cum filling you up to the brim. The warmth was comforting, as you heaved in and out, still in a trance, your legs trembling around him.

You were there, his breathing echoing in your ears, after everything—your body on fire, your head spinning from pleasure,—what the hell did you do..

Your breathing hitched, realizing what you did, stealing a glance from Gojo. His chest rising, his white hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from you, feeling yourself still clenching down on him,

"Fuck.. you're still wanting more, hm?" you watched as Gojo teased you—fuck you couldn't lie, his post-sex look made you wet—you just had sex with Gojo Satoru, your son's teacher...just inviting him over for dinner to thank him, but you were being stabbed with his cock on your dining table,

but you would do it again, wouldn't you...

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[kpop---scenarios]

Yes, Sheriff

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Warning: Smut [mild fingering; unprotected sex. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Summary: You're brought in for questioning in an identity theft case, but you have your ways of distracting people.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Thanks anon for the idea!! And thank you @skzdust for helping me!!

Everything Taglist:

@wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

@stayatinykatsy @catlove83

“L/N Y/N.” You hear.

Your eyes were closed, head resting on your arms against the cool metal table in the interrogation room. You could feel a slight knot in your stomach forming but chose to ignore it. You didn't know what they had on you but you weren't terribly worried. You knew exactly what you had done and you knew what you were going to do, the only thing you could do.

Most people fold and tell the truth, but when it comes to you… absolutely not.

Deny. Deny. Deny.

You raise your head, your eyes still closed as you pretend to stretch, dragging out the opening of your eyes for just a moment. And the second you did open them, you immediately regretted your decision. The man that stood before you, made your mouth dry and your panties wet.

You could see his muscles through the fabric of his semi tight police uniform, his tight fitting pants showing off a bulge you only wanted to see become bigger.

“And you are?” You smile, sitting up straight, crossing your legs in hopes you'd be able to keep your wetness in your panties.

“Sheriff Bang Chan.” He says, sitting down in the chair across from you, setting the file down in front of him.

“Fitting.” You murmur, straightening up your posture. “Why am I here, Mr. Bang?” You ask.

“Sheriff.” He corrects you.

“My apologies. Why am I here sheriff?” You ask.

“I'd like to set the record straight first, You are in fact, L/N Y/N, correct?” He asks.

“I'm not sure. Am I?” You say, smiling.

“Or should I call you Miriam Schnider, Lisa Michael's, Julie Furgason?”

Fuck. You knew it.

“Those are some very pretty names.” You say.

“And they live very lavish lives. Is that why you stole their identities?” He asks.

“I'm not sure what you're talking about here, Sheriff. Someone stole their identities?” You ask, pulling off a very convincing gasp, covering your mouth. “What a shame.”

“It is a shame. You racked up an immeasurable amount of debt, ruined their credit, jobs, Miriam is about to lose her house.” He sighs.

“I can't believe someone would do that to them.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“So you're not going to admit it?” He asks.

“Why would I admit it? I would never do something like that.” You say. “I'm a good girl, officer.” You whisper, licking your lips.

He chuckles slightly. “Something tells me that you're not as innocent as you're trying to make yourself out to be.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed.

“What would make you say that? I am very innocent.” You smirk.

“So.” He sighs. “Are you going to keep denying that you did this, Y/N? That you ruined these people's lives?”

“Like I said, how do you know I'm really Y/N? No fingerprints were taken. All your officers did was look at my ID.” You say.

“They also found ID’s of the victims names, with your picture on them.” The sheriff reminds you.

“So? What if I am actually Miriam Schnider? Or Julie Furgason?”

“You're not. Because I met them.” He says.

“Or did you meet the ones pretending to be me?” You ask.

“I'm getting sick of this shit, Y/N.” He snaps. “Just admit what we already know and then we can move on and go forward with charges and processing.”

“Let's say I did admit it, which I'm not, but if I did… what would you do to me?” You smile, cocking your head to the side.

He looks at you, a little confused.

“Would you slam me down against the table to cuff me?” You whisper. “How close would you stand to me? Would you press yourself up against me?” You ask.

He adjusts himself in his chair, placing his arms on the table, intertwining his fingers as he stares at you. “Are you hitting on me, Ms. L/N?” He asks.

“What do you think, Sheriff? Do you think I'm hitting on you?” You ask.

“I think you are. And it's highly inappropriate.” He murmurs, clearing his throat.

“Mhmm.” You groan, maintaining eye contact. “I don't think it's inappropriate. If anything, you accusing me of a crime I did not commit is inappropriate. Not to mention how tight your pants are. It really makes me want to rip them off and have you shove your cock down my throat.” You grin.

You can tell he's extremely taken aback by your comment which makes you smile harder.

He clears his throat. “There's another officer watching this interview.” He tells you. You lean forward a little, letting your shirt expose your tits a little. You watch his eyes dart between your face and cleavage.

“Good. Let him watch.” You whisper.

“Ms. L/N, you're going to get me into trouble.” He breathes.

“You know… a little trouble never really hurt anyone.” You murmur.

“Are you sure about that? I think the trouble you caused your victims definitely hurt them a lot.” He says.

“Stop ruining the moment, Sheriff.” You smile. “You and I both know that I didn't do this and you're wasting your time blaming me for this when the real culprit is still out there.”

“Do you know who did this then, if it wasn't you?” He wonders.

“I'm sure I can remember a name eventually, but right now it's just a little hard to think.” You wink, looking down. You just knew his cock was getting harder and harder.

“What do I need to do for you to tell me?” He asks.

“It's about what I can do for you.” You whisper. You slip out of your chair, crawling under the table, you lick your lips as you eye up the bulge in his pants. You sit on your knees, your hands unbuttoning his pants, slowly pulling his zipper down until he moves his chair back. He stands up, yanking you from under the table. He climbs on top of you, straddling you as he pins your arms above your head. He stares at you, his lips slightly parted, his chest heaving slightly.

You can see the struggling look in his eyes, whether or not he should do what he really fucking wants to do.

“C'mon, Sheriff. Grow a pair.” You chuckle.

He groans, continuing to fight internally. “Ah, fuck it.” He finishes, leaning down, crashing his lips down onto yours. He swiftly slides his tongue into your mouth, his body pressing hard against yours. He releases your arms, sliding his hand against your cheek. Seconds later he pulls away from you, getting up off the floor before he helps you up, pulling you off the floor too. He grabs onto you, pushing you against the table, pressing your face down onto the cool metal. You lay there as he moves behind you, digging his fingers into the waist of your jeans before yanking them down, along with your panties. They pool around your ankles while you hear him behind you, pulling his cock from his pants. You feel his hand slide against your pussy before he shoves two fingers inside of you, your wetness seeping out of you.

“Fuck you're wet.” He groans.

“Wow, you've got a small cock.” You giggle.

“Hah.” He fake chuckles. “I'm going to destroy you.” He whispers, pulling his fingers out of you. Your eyes are closed as you feel him push his cock into you, stretching out your cunt, and it hurts.

“Fuck.” You gasp.

“Is it still small?” He groans, pushing himself all the way in, stopping for only a second before he pulls out and rams himself back into you. Your eyes roll back, your cunt tightening around him as he grips tightly onto your shoulders. You pant against the table with each of his thrusts, each one hitting the right spot.

“Oh my…fuck.” You moan. You can hear him chuckle behind you.

“You're a bad girl.” He groans. You moan to agree with him, moving your hands between your legs, pressing onto your clit.

“So bad.” He groans, ramming his cock into you once again. You rub your clit, jolting with each thrust, euphoric pleasure rushing through your entire body as you listen to his grunts from behind you. There was something so fucking hot about a man in uniform, you were like a feral animal anytime you were near one, and you fucking loved it when they caved.

“Oh god, just like that, officer.” You cry out, moaning louder, your breathing becoming more erratic as you chase your high. You knew it was coming quickly, it always did in situations like this.

“You're gonna make me cum.” You groan, your orgasm hitting you quickly. “Oh my fucking god!” You cry, your pussy tightening again as pleasure runs through your veins.

“Good girl.” He grunts, holding onto you tighter, chasing his own high. A few thrusts later, he digs his fingertips into your side, holding on tightly as he cums, filling you up with every ounce he has.

“Fuck.” He breathes, standing for a second before he pulls out of you. He adjusts himself, before he walks towards the door. His hand on the knob he turns and looks at you, still spread out on the table.

“Don't move.” He says before walking out the door.

“Sheriff.” He hears. He turns to look, seeing his deputy standing there, shocked.

“Ah, deputy Seo Changbin.” Chan laughs.

“That was…” Changbin begins.

Chan laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “Why don't you give it a go?” He suggests. “Maybe you can get some more out of her.”

[imjustdreamingig]

Isn't that sweet, I guess so

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut

A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people

warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other

Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)

And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.

You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.

As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.

Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.

The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.

"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"

"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.

Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.

"— and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.

"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.

"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"

Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.

"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."

You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"

Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.

"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.

Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.

"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"

"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"

Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."

You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."

"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."

You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"

At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"

You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.

"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"

He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?

Oh, absolutely not.

With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.

"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.

"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.

All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.

You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.

Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."

He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.

As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.

Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.

Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"

You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.

[takumiraine]

Once upon a time chapter 11

Teaching children is so draining. Is it Christmas break yet????

<first> <prev> <next>

The ride to Danny’s apartment building was uneventful, even though Danny was still positively radiating anxiety.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to realize they’ve been hacked?” He asked, looking over at Tucker.

“They’ve probably already realized it honestly. But none of it can tie back to us really so… hopefully they don’t show up.” Tucker shrugged, giving Danny another pat on the arm. There had been so many of them, and Danny was pretty sure half were just because Tucker knew that he hadn’t been getting much physical contact at all lately.

He hadn’t been living a life of much anything at all lately.

“If we can get me some old Fenton tech and a soldering kit I might be able to put some anti-anti ghost weapons together. I was the one that fixed most of their stuff anyways.” Danny mused, considering what he could feasibly do. “If I could get some of the shield tech and a specter deflector I could theoretically combine them to create a personal shield. Vlad’s shielding is better but I’m not going up to Wisconsin again.”

Danny shuddered in his muttering before going on talking through the possible changes he’d make. Jason looked at Sam and Tucker in the mirror. “Cheese fountain incident?”

“Among other things. Danny and Vlad have never really gotten along. Vlad always had a creepy thing for Danny’s mom and it was just weird.” Tucker explained, looking over at Sam.

“And Vlad kept trying to kill, clone and possibly make genetic babies with Danny. There’s Dani and Dan in the zone somewhere I think. You’d know if you met one of them,” Sam added, while Danny just nodded absently in agreement.

“Sam, are you planning on going home any time soon?” Danny asked, sort of changing the subject.

“No, and even if I was, I’m not sure how I’d get some of your parents failed tech out without them noticing. Jazz said they’re always in the lab now, trying to figure out how to, and I quote, ‘save their precious son from the evil ghost that is possessing him’.”

Danny groaned. “You’d think, after watching me be attacked and changing in front of their eyes, they’d get over this possession bullshit.”

“There’s a point to be made about willful ignorance there,” Sam agreed, “I guess it’s easier to swallow than the truth.”

They parked in front of Danny’s building and the four got out. “If you think your car will be safe here you can come up. But not a word about how I’ve been living. The paranoia is your fault.” Danny scowled up at Jason, and not for the first time Jason found Danny’s willingness to stand up to someone much taller than him endearing.

“Not a word. Scout’s honor.” Jason was never a scout, and he had very little honor left, but he doubted Danny knew either of those things. He sent a quick text to Babs and the car drove itself off.

Danny squinted at it for a minute then muttered, “fucking rich people.” as he led the way into the building and up to his apartment. Jason knew the vague location based off of the fact that Danny ran cold, but seeing the interior in person was different. By no means was the building one of the nicer ones in the alley, but burnt out lights, chipped plaster and missing chunks of stairs gave the building an almost condemned feeling. Danny led the way with the confidence of someone who had lived there a while, and his two friends followed behind with almost equal confidence, trusting Danny would warn them of anything potentially dangerous.

They made it to the third floor without incident, and Danny led the way to the apartment door he had claimed. “I don’t want to hear a word about my apartment.” He warned, looking mostly at Jason. “The protection measures are your fault, and I haven’t had much money to decorate.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded. Danny looked around for a moment, then reached through the door. There was a click of the first lock disengaging then the slide of the chain lock, before Danny pulled his hand back and opened the door. He pushed it open with one hand only for it to swing open through a bed.

That was different.

“One sec.” Danny reached through with his free hand and lifted the bed like he was carrying a tray of dishes, letting the door go as he carried the bed further into the room. There was a soft thud as he set it down, then Danny straightened up and turned to them. “C’mon in. Welcome to my haunt. Lock the door behind you.”

Danny turned and walked into the bathroom, coming out with an armload of blankets which he spread onto the bed. Had he been sleeping in the tub?

Jason followed the other two into the room, and shut the door behind him, latching it obediently. He took in the bare bulb light, the duct tape on the window, the way the bed had been pushed against the door, the lack of any personal touches save for the bedsheets having comets on them.

Danny went into the attached kitchenette area and opened some cabinets. Inside were snacks all bearing the logo of the local discount store. “I don’t have anything fancy, but help yourselves. I could boil some water for tea or something too.” He gestured to the bed, now taking what seems to have been its usual space before all of this. “Sit. Make yourselves at home. It’s all clean.”

“Danny…” Tucker started, looking around at the impersonal space, but Sam nudged him.

“Tea sounds great. Any of your snacks vegan and cruelty free?” Danny seemed to relax at the question.

“I have a couple of fruit leather things.” He reached into the back of the cupboard he was using as a pantry and pulled out a couple sticks of something from one of those “Ivy Approved” stamped boxes. He tossed one at Sam, then offered it to both Tucker and Jason. Tucker shook his head but Jason shrugged and nodded, so he got one tossed at him too. Only then did Danny open a different cupboard and pull out his one pot, dented and dinged on the sides, to fill with tap water.

“I realize I never got your number.” Jason paused, “For tutoring reasons,” he added lamely. Danny laughed somewhat nervously.

“Well I don’t really have one. I mean. I do. Did. But it doesn’t have minutes. It’s why I hung out in the library all the time.” He looked almost embarrassed, a red flush against his pale skin.

“It’s alright.” Jason waved it off, and gave Danny a roguish grin and a wink. “Anyone sketchy enough in this part of town can pass a message to me.”

Danny pauses and ducks his head, busying himself with the tea. The mugs are chipped but everyone is given one. Danny sits himself on the floor by the bed. Jason looks between where Sam and Tucker are sat on the bed and Danny is sat on the floor. He considers for a moment before sitting on the floor near Danny but far enough away that it wouldn’t be infringing on his space.

Danny sighed. “I know you have questions.” He told Jason.

“Yeah. A lot of them. But they aren’t important right now.”

Danny took a sip of his tea. Raised an eyebrow. “Really.” The question was more of a statement and Jason shrugged.

“I trust you’d tell me if I or my city were in any immediate danger.” He was burning with questions. About his pit. What it meant, why Danny had called it a core, what it could do, why it made him so angry. But they weren’t important right now. Danny had had a hell of a week.

“You’re…weird,” Danny conceded. Tucker and Sam sipped at their tea.

“So Jason,” Sam began, smiling through her dark lips, black nails ticking against the ceramic. “Danny is very important to us. If you’ve been in the GIW’s files you know that.”

Jason didn’t know where she was going, but Danny seemed to. He flushed scarlet. “Sam!” He hissed. “Stop it!”

“What are your intentions towards him? I know based on some quick checks that Red Hood is more of an anti-hero than the rest of your colony of batlings.” Tucker seemed to be joining in on this impromptu shovel talk. Jason would think it, and the effect it was having on Danny, was closer to adorable if it wasn’t funny.

Danny, however, was mortified. His face was flaming and he looked like he was about to melt through the floor. “Guys seriously! Ancients, could you be any more embarrassing?!”

Jason was used to inquisitions like this from his own siblings. He gave a smirk and sipped his tea. “Obviously, I plan to seduce him with power and money and recruit him to my cause of overthrowing my father and corrupting the rest of the Bats and Birds.” Jason gave a wolfish grin then. “Turn Danny into the perfect partner in crime.”

Danny made a choked sound and turned to look at him. Jason met his eyes, feeling Danny’s power push at him, and focusing on reading like amusement back. He had no idea if he did it right but Danny seemed to be mollified and rather than argue he smiled ever so slightly into his mug. “I haven’t ever played the villain properly.” He murmured in agreement.

“Danny!” Tucker and Sam exclaimed in perfect unison.

“What? If I’m going to be in trouble with someone either way may as well have fun with it…”

“Danny, man you can’t be serious.” Tucker scolded softly.

Danny just shrugged. “I dunno. New city new me. And if people think I am a villain, may as well lean into it.”

“Danny, don’t make me call your sister. Jazz is going to be mad enough we came to talk you through this crisis without her.” Tucker made a pretty convincing point by the way Danny frowned some, giving up his joke.

“I could. You don’t have to call my sister about it though.” Danny was definitely pouting.

Jason covered his laugh with a drink from his mug. He had heard this conversation multiple ways, and had it a time or two himself. The soft sound that he made, barely a heavy breath of a sound was enough to turn Sam’s eyes toward him again.

“You’re going to keep him out of trouble, right? He’s a trouble magnet. His hero name should have been Jinx, not Phantom for how much bad luck he attracted.”

Jason looked at Danny, and could very clearly read the slight panic there. The implicit message was clear. Don’t mention the stabbing or broken nose.

“He picked the wrong neighborhood then. But yeah, I’ll make sure people know he’s under my protection.” Danny relaxed then, and Sam seemed to too.

“Good. Because I have work in the morning, and Tucker has to go to class on Monday.”

“Ah shit I forgot…” Danny groaned, “I was going to get a book for our Lit class on Monday and I ran into you and Barbara in the library…. And dropped it.”

“Danny…” Sam sighed, like this was a familiar occurrence.

“I’ve got a copy,” Jason offered, “you can come by my place and read the chapters tomorrow if you want. Save you the walk to and from the library.” He wasn’t sure what made him offer so suddenly, but he felt something warm coil in his gut at the relieved look on Danny’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since it was kind of my fault you dropped it in the first place, it’s the least I can do.”

Danny smiled up at him then. “Thanks. What time…?”

Jason shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything during the day tomorrow so whenever.”

“Glad to see Danny isn’t floundering through being forgetful on his own here.” Sam’s tone was fond and amused.

“Hey!” Danny protested.

“Sucks that we’ve been replaced by someone taller and richer though.” Tucker added, nodding forlornly at Jason. Danny’s face colored again.

“Not true and you two know it! Ancients, you guys are assholes!” Danny flopped backwards dramatically, throwing his arm over his eyes. Sam and Tucker shared a look before laughing. “I hate you. So much.” Danny kept his arm firmly over his face.

“We love you too, Danny.”

Jason offered to drive Sam and Tucker back to Bludhaven, but Sam had called an uber. Which, really, explained why she kept a bat. Sam also pulled out a baseball from her bag. “So I’m not intentionally carrying it to be a weapon. I like baseball.” Sam explained with a smile that Jason knew already was filled with false innocence.

“So tomorrow.” Danny began, sitting on his bed. Jason looked over at the pause. “What time?”

He shrugged. “I’m probably not going to patrol much tonight, but…. Maybe early afternoon?”

Danny nodded then. “I can do that. You gonna be okay on the walk home?”

Jason nodded, snorting softly. “Did you forget who I am?”

“No, but everyone expects the vigilantes to always be okay. Nobody ever asks if they will.” Jason was touched by Danny’s concern. If anyone else had asked, he would have been rankled, but Danny was different. Maybe because he was coming from a place of isolation with it.

“Well.” Jason started awkwardly, “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Goodnight Danny.”

“Night Jason.”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Happy Wife

Thirteen servants were dead; Two estates on fire.

I never even made it to the gates.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air. Clung to his hair and skin, even after bathing. Because no amount of scented oils, scrubbing, could erase his sin. The scent of iron and cooking flesh. Cruel scents of ancient houses ablaze. Innocent people being slaughtered. For... for the crime of trying to help me.

It was all my fault.

Last time, I had escaped alone. Or... more laughably, he had let me escape.

So he could hunt me through the forest like a brightly colored deer. Some pretty prey to stalk and torment. Letting me exhaust myself. Run and run until I could no longer, before casually strolling up to come collect me. As though letting me get it out of my system. A man, merely humoring his wife's tantrums and overly dramatic, willful ways.

I never should have accepted help. No matter have lonely I was. How desperate my despair. Because... because-!

"I'll get you new ones. Don't be upset, Love." The monster that was my husband, said idly. His voice a low rumble like thunder, his so called 'sweet' tone. "Servants that can't obey their lord, can't be trusted. Shouldn't be kept. They were scum. I'll get you better ones."

Ha ha... more like, servants that obeyed him. Feared him. Had no shred of mercy or honor, left in their bones. Gods... I... I had condemned thirteen good souls. All for trying to help me. Save me. Just for trying to get me out of this hell and away from this man.

I would never forgive this life's sperm donor, for handing me over. Because... because after a betray like that? After I had begged? Begged and screamed, rioted and tried to run? And STILL he handed me over? He was no kin of mine. I had no family.

Not in this life.

My family may not have been perfect. May have been flawed. But they would never have handed me over to a psychopath. Sold me to the highest bidder, like chattle. And... and honestly? I would take them at their worst, over these bastards at their best.

I never should have read that STUPID book. Yeah, maybe, it had nothing to do with anything. Maybe, all it would have done is left me ignorant on top of being stranded. But? I had to blame something. Or I'd go insane. So it was the fucking book's fault.

Recommend by an internet friend. Historical fiction. Lots of complex characters and some spicy yandere. How FUN. Court intrigues! Poisonings! Bastards and hidden births! Great to read... literal hell to live through. Everyone wanted everyone fucking dead, and all I wanted? Was to marry far, FAR into the countryside. Live a boring ass life.

But apparently I blinked funny. Or was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wore the wrong fucking dress (well, not dress, but you get the idea). Because next thing I knew? Yandere Sr., of Yandere and Yandere, is looking at me! And not in that "oh, what an interesting bug" sort of way! Look looking!

I didn't know shit about him! Yes, his son. But him? Nothing!

Well... aside from the fact he was a VERY convenient Widower. Like... the SECOND he got a kid out of his arranged wife. It was all very "everyone suspected but no one could prove shit" Sort of thing.

And? Said son? Becomes a major antagonist in the book. Until he "embarrasses" his Father by going too far. Implied gruesome end to follow. Plot moves on. Which? Is all well and good FOR THEM. But what about me?! I had nothing to go on! Aside from "Aaah ha ha ha! Run." Which? Didn't fucking help, in the end! Still... s-still ended up married.

Though, my new "son" ended up dead, in relatively short order. Apparently wasn't too pleased to have a step-mom. Tried to do something about it. Disappeared between one day and the next. And now no one is allowed to so much as talk about him. But hey! It's apparently fine! Because at some point? We're gonna make a better one!

"Your thoughts are far away, Love. Should I help you concentrate?" Husband muses, from the edge of the bed. I jerk back as I jolt violently to the present, focusing on the threat. He looks pleased. "Better~, this wife should focus only on her Lord. And yet... once again she's wandered. Tried to run. This lord wonders what he should do, hmm?"

Scrunched up in a ball on the bed, I hoped the answer was fucking "nothing". Or maybe, perhaps, "leave". Inching backwards, like the hunted animal I felt like, I wasn't fast enough to avoid the hand that shot out. Capturing my ankle in shackle strong grip.

It wasn't crushing. Left no bruises. Yet the touch felt scalding, as his hand imprisoned yet cradled my ankle. Dragged my leg free of my curled up little ball of self. I froze, as I felt his other hand gentle running the tips of his fingers up and down my shin. Up and down, up and down. As though just feeling my skin.

"Should he make sure his wife can not run?" This grip tightened, nearly bruising. His other gripping farther up my leg. As though casually preparing to snap bones. "Or perhaps, he should chain you away? Hmm? This Lords wife is a troublesome girl. Causing trouble as she does... ah~, what to do with her..."

Terrified, sat froze. Mind numb. Please. Gods. Please, please, please! D-Don't. I was shaking. Could feel tears starting to build. Watched, helplessly, as he examined me. Something pleased, satisfied even, creeped into his expression. And without breaking eye contact, he lifted my leg towards his face, to gently kiss the skin right above my ankle bone. It could have been tender... if it didn't feel like a threat.

"This wife is so very lucky, that this Lord loves her so. That he would never."

It was almost mocking, in how sweet the words curled. As though suggesting that because this one thing was too far, he was a good man. As though suggesting that he would do far worse to others, in my place. But don't worry. You won't be hurt. See how benevolent he is?

"But come, let us not discuss your punishments tonight, hmm?"

Like a predator, stalking his prey, he crawled up onto the bed. Closer and closer. There was no where to run. Was this it? W-was this the day he... he-? Looming, on his knees, above my curled up ball of fear, he effortlessly worked his arm in and around my waist. Dragging me closer. All but into his lap.

"You are tired. Upset. Have made such messes for this husband to clean." He murmured, face pressed close. Breathe ghosting against my neck, my ear. All I could smell was rich soaps and smoke. "We can deal with this tomorrow. For now, it's time for bed. So go ahead, rest sweetly in my arms, Love.

"It's where you belong."

[miss-dollette]

Person Of Interest - Chapter 1. Muse.

Warning: Stalking. Really fucked up opinions on the less fortunate. Remember, this is the salesman we’re talking about.

(A/N): I wrote this over the course of a few days. I haven’t written anything this long in some time, so let me know if I got anything wrong. Also, I’m not Korean and have never visited Korea, so I’m not familiar with Korean culture. Please be easy on me - I don’t even listen to K-Pop and this is my like, second Korean show I’ve watched 😭. Okay, it’s two in the morning and my eyes hurt. Enjoy :)

The little waif appeared at the train station again, as she did every day of the week except Sunday.

He knew that because he had developed a routine of his own-one where he ensured he’d catch a glimpse of her. She was a slight thing, all knobby knees and elbows, with a rounder face that still clung stubbornly to remnants of baby fat. It gave her an air of innocence that would likely never fade into maturity.

Twenty-two years old. A dropout from a prestigious university - why, he didn’t know. She lived with a roommate in a tacky apartment building and was unemployed. Instead, she earned her money playing her violin in the busier sections of the city.

A talented little thing. No matter the weather, her thin but strong fingers coaxed melodies from her instrument, drawing the attention of passersby. The locals knew her well, and they must have appreciated the way her music lured customers to their shops and stands.

The first time he saw her, she was on a concrete platform, playing one of his favorite songs. His hand had stung, his shoulder ached - a long day of recruiting Nothings - but the sound had stopped him in his tracks.

Passersby dropped won into the worn Breton cap she’d laid out in front of her, and each time, she flashed a brief, grateful smile before resuming her tune.

His breath hitched in his chest, his fingers slackening around the handle of his suitcase full of won and two dirty ddakji papers. Even dressed in an oversized coat with patched-up hemlines, she caught his attention in a way that left him stunned.

An elderly man shuffled past her, dropping a few won into her cap before bowing deeply. She paused just long enough to bow back, even lower than he had, before continuing to play.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, lingering spectators began to drift away, heading toward the station to catch their trains. Salarymen and women filed out of their offices, and nearby shops started to close for the night.

When the last stragglers were gone, she stepped down from the platform and retrieved her cap. One by one, she smoothed out the crumpled bills with delicate precision, as though each note were a treasure.

An elderly woman from a nearby food stall approached her, carrying a steaming skewer of dakkochi. Though the girl began counting her bills, ready to pay, the woman shook her head, pressing the food into her hands.

She hesitated, staring at the meat with wide, hungry eyes, before accepting it and bowing low in gratitude.

He watched as she took the first bite, her eyes fluttering shut as though she were savoring the warmth, the taste, the comfort of it. She chewed slowly, and though he couldn’t hear it, he could almost imagine the hum of satisfaction she must have let slip.

It was ridiculous. Fascination with someone so ordinary.

And yet, he couldn’t look away.

How could it be that this crumpled-up, discarded girl had managed to fascinate him so completely?

If he had seen her on any other day, he would have caught her alone, offered her a game of Ddakji, and slapped her cheeks until their softness gave way to mottled bruises. Those babyish cheeks of hers, stained with tears—he could picture it so vividly. Female recruits usually cried by the third slap, but they never stopped playing. The glimmer of hope, of winning back their dignity or even just a few won, kept them in the game.

They were all the same. Male or female. Persistent, pathetic pieces of garbage. That’s what they all had in common.

When she finished her food, she stuffed the crumpled won into a sash tied around her waist, her movements quick yet deliberate. Then she turned her attention to her violin, lifting it with a tenderness that bordered on reverence. She placed the chipped instrument into its worn case so gently that anyone watching might have thought she was laying an infant into its crib.

It was laughable, really.

And yet, he kept watching.

When she stood, she practically skipped toward the train station. Light, careless steps, as though the weight of the world hadn’t settled on her shoulders like it had on everyone else’s. He watched her descend the stairs, each movement unguarded, as though she had nothing to fear.

His fingers tightened around the handle of his suitcase, and his eyes flicked to his watch. The seconds ticked away steadily, a reminder that if he wanted to catch the last train home, he’d need to hurry.

But as he stood there, staring at the spot where she’d disappeared, he felt himself torn.

Head home... or follow her?

The decision hovered in the air, tantalizing and heavy, as the seconds marched on.

He realized that if he didn’t follow her, she’d haunt his thoughts all night. The sound of her tunes, the gleam in her eyes—it would all linger, nagging at him. And what if he never saw the little waif again?

The thought was unbearable.

He took a step toward the station, then another, and another, until he found himself at the platform, watching as she disappeared through the train’s doors.

“Pardon me,” he murmured, brushing past another passenger in his haste.

The man turned sharply, venom already rising to his face - until his gaze fell on him. The glare faltered, melting into something more subdued. Respectful.

It was remarkable, really, how quickly people changed their tune when they caught sight of his tailored coat and polished shoes. They didn’t need to know him, his past, or his purpose. The price tag of his appearance was enough to earn their deference.

How pitiful, he thought, as he adjusted his grip on his suitcase. Once, he’d been nothing - just like them. But now?

Now, he was above them all.

She sat in the distance, wedged between a mother with a toddler clinging to her thighs and a weary salaryman fighting to keep his eyes open. Her violin case rested on her lap, cradled against her chest as though it were something precious, something alive.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, careful not to let his gaze linger too long. If she caught him staring, she’d realize far too soon that she had an observer - and that wouldn’t do. Not that he had any plans of revealing himself.

Fortunately, he was practiced in the art of pursuit. Years of experience had honed his craft, though his targets were typically for a very different purpose.

The train jolted forward, and he swayed slightly, using the motion to adjust his stance, keeping her just within his peripheral vision. She was so unassuming, so small in this world of hurried professionals and exhausted parents. Yet, there was something magnetic about her.

Her oversized coat hung awkwardly off her frame, the patched hemlines almost brushing her knees. It was too large, almost comical, but she wore it without a hint of self-consciousness. Perhaps she didn’t care how it looked, or perhaps she was simply used to making do. The thought both irritated and fascinated him.

He shifted his grip on his suitcase, the leather pressing against his calluses. Would she even be worth it? She wasn’t like the others he had approached. There was a quiet resolve in her, something different. She didn’t wear her desperation as plainly as the others, yet he knew it was there - lurking beneath the surface.

Wasn’t it always?

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. Everyone had their breaking point. The game just revealed it sooner.

She glanced up briefly, her eyes scanning the train, and his heart seized for a moment. Had she noticed him? No - her gaze swept right past him, uninterested and unseeing. He let out a slow, controlled breath, reminding himself that he was a master at this. Years of practice had taught him how to melt into the background, to become just another face in the crowd.

But watching her, he felt something unusual - a spark of impatience. Normally, he could bide his time, savoring the slow unraveling of his prey’s composure. But with her, the anticipation was different. Her every movement - so small, so deliberate - pulled at something in him, though he couldn’t quite name what.

The train rattled through another stop, and a few passengers shuffled off. She remained in her seat, her hands absently brushing over the scratched surface of her violin case. Did she know how fragile she looked in that moment? The way her fingers lingered on the case, as though drawing strength from it, made his chest tighten in a way that annoyed him.

Perhaps that was it - the illusion of fragility. People like her always looked so easy to break, so willing to bend under pressure. But they never went quietly. No, they always had a streak of stubbornness, a refusal to yield that made the process all the more satisfying.

He swallowed, his mind flickering between possibilities. If he approached her now, how would she react? Would she freeze, caught off guard by someone acknowledging her for any other reason besides her violin? Or would she look at him with suspicion, sensing something amiss?

The train slowed, and the voice over the intercom announced the next station. His pulse quickened. She adjusted her grip on her case, her body shifting as she got ready to stand.

He waited until the distance between them widened before stepping off the train. The crowd of passengers spilling onto the platform was his cover, their hurried steps and muted chatter blending him seamlessly into the flow of bodies. Not that she would suspect anyone was following her. Who would?

Once outside the station, she weaved her way past the gleaming high-rises and into narrower, dimly lit streets. The transition was stark - the polished facade of the city gave way to crumbling walls, cracked sidewalks, and flickering streetlights. It made sense for her to live in this part of town. He never imagined she could afford anything more secure.

She paused in front of a small brick building, its exterior worn and unremarkable, much like her. He hung back, watching as she disappeared through the front doors. His pulse steadied, and he exhaled slowly. Following her inside would be foolish - far too risky. A smaller building like this meant she likely knew her neighbors, and a stranger’s presence wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Still, his lips curved into a faint smile. The journey might have ended here, but now he knew where she lived. A detail worth savoring.

Just as he turned to retrace his steps to the station, a light flickered on in one of the windows. His head snapped up, and his gaze locked onto it. A shadow moved against the thin curtain, a familiar silhouette. Her slight frame was unmistakable, and so was that oversized Breton cap perched awkwardly on her head.

Yes, it was her.

For a moment, he stood frozen, watching her shadow shift. She set something down - likely the violin case she had cradled so protectively on the train. He could almost picture her now, brushing the dust off her coat, pulling her hair free from under the cap, perhaps exhaling with relief to finally be home.

His grip on his suitcase tightened.

“I should leave now,” he thought. Lingering too long would be reckless, but something about that glowing window and her faint outline held him captive. It was a glimpse into her world - simple, predictable, fragile. A world so easy to disrupt.

Finally, he turned away, but his steps were slow, reluctant. He had what he came for, but the thought of her shadow, the dim light framing her every movement, stayed with him.

Time to say Goodbye.

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 4

content warning: mentions of sexual coercion (may be triggering to some so I marked the area where I talk about this subject with 🎧, the story will still make sense if you have to skip it), the word assault is used once in regards to Miguel’s situation at the party, fluff to make up for the last part, Miguel’s biological father is Tyler Stone here but he IS NOT comic book Miguel physically by ANY MEANS 😭, the progression might be a little fast?? I hope not though I want them to kith 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽, a little suggestive at one part but nothing serious

word count: 2.4k (at this point y'all...you must know that I like telling stories because wtf), kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who set his alarm for 8 am the next morning. It rings long enough for his roommate to get up and shove him in his side.

“Shit. Sorry,” Miguel groans. His head is splitting and he feels like he’s been run over.

“Coming in at ass o’clock in the morning and letting your alarm ring past 12 rings? What happened to my roomie?” Peter muses, scratching is stomach. His own eyes are tired as he blinks at Miguel’s body slumped against the bed.

“A party that I should’ve never gone to,” Miguel says, bringing the ends of his palms to his eyes and breathing deep. “Nothing went how I wanted it to.”

“It looks to me that you got everything you wanted,” Peter yawned, going to grab a water from the mini fridge. He handed it to Miguel who thanked him and emptied the whole thing in one go.

“I left a girl that I really liked alone there,” Miguel replies, voice broken. “Was stuck in a room with a bunch of girls I didn’t even know. I was gone way too long and she left.”

“Shit, O’Hara,” Peter said, eyebrows raised. “Did they do anything to you?”

“No. After they realized I wasn’t trying to do anything, they just tried to bring the party upstairs. I didn’t get back downstairs until two hours later.”

“Did you reach out to your girl, at least?”

Miguel reached for his phone, “She texted me when she left and I texted back later.”

He looked at his phone, going to your messages. “And still no reply.”

“Can you blame her?” Peter asked, getting back in his own bed. “If I left my girlfriend anywhere while we’re out, she would literally have my head on a wall.”

Miguel wanted to cry. How could he fuck up something so badly?

He sighed as he brought his knees up, resting his arms on his knees. He put his head on his arms, trying to think.

“What should I do? I really like her,” he asks, voice watery.

“Not to be that guy, but there’s no time like the present,” Peter says. “Tell her the truth. Explain things to her. If you’re feeling that awful, do something for her.”

Miguel sniffles and groans out, deciding to get up.

“You’re right,” he says. “No time like the present.”

GymRat!Miguel who grabs a light breakfast and gets straight to work. He thanks the universe that his mom packed a bunch of aimless art supplies in one of his bins. He gets to crafting, putting his heart into everything. He’s freshening up, spraying on cologne, bringing out the slacks that make his ass look great, tightening his belt, fixing his hair. He tightens up so well that even Peter whistles when he walks out of the bathroom. He grabs his craft and goes off campus to a store, buying a few snacks, a circus animal cookie plush, and a gatorade in case you happened to be a little hungover too. He even goes the extra mile and finds a cute apology card. If anything, he hope you could get a laugh out if it.

GymRat!Miguel who makes his way to your dorm building, some guy letting him in after he saw him lingering around the door like a kicked puppy. He thanks him profusely and runs up the stairs to your door. He stands outside in the hallway for a minute and catches his breath, trying to still his beating heart. He gives a light knock, hoping you were there.

The door opens, revealing another girl who looks Miguel up and down with a scowl. Her hand is on her hip and her bonnet moves with her head as she stares Miguel down.

Miguel stutters, asking if you were there.

“Maybe, depending on what you’re about to say next,” she says.

“Look, can you tell her that I’m deeply sorry. I should have never left her alone last night. She didn’t deserve that. I apologize for even accepting the invitation to go. I should have known better. Nothing was worth me staying upstairs that long. Can I just- please, let me just talk to her,” Miguel pleads, desperate.

Your roommate just goes “hmph” under her breath and closes the door in his face.

Miguel’s arms drop and he gapes at the door like a fish. He’s willing to stand here until you have to come out, but isn’t sure what to do.

Just when he considers knocking again, the door swings open again and you’re standing there in a giant t-shirt and pajama pants with pokeman balls printed on them. A giant blanket is wrapped around your body.

You look at him, eyes cautious, “Jess said you were groveling. I’ll give you 5 minutes of my precious time. Something you clearly know how to waste.”

You sounded hurt and Miguel felt like dying.

He takes a deep breath calls out your name.

“I am so sorry for leaving you the other night. It was extremely fucked up, especially when I made sure that you could come. Anything could have happened to you and it was careless of me to not see that. I promise you my mom raised me better,” he says, looking down at your face.

You just crossed your arms and scrunched your mouth up. Even now, Miguel was still infatuated with you.

“I’m glad that you understand how fucked up that was. I was worried about you. I waited. For hours. I didn’t know anyone there and it was nerve wracking,” you say, words coming out like ice.

“I know and I apologize. Truly. Please just,” Miguel hands you his gifts. A gift bag full of the goodies he bought and an origami flower bouquet with a few lilies of the valley sprinkled throughout. A flower for renewal. A flower that he hopes speaks to you. “Please accept this and my honest apology.”

You look down at the flowers, taken aback. “Did you make these?” you ask, a little awed.

Miguel rubs one of his wrists, completely nervous, “Yes, I did. The lilies are real, though.”

“Well, obviously, Miguel,” you laugh softly at him. You start to go through the bag, heart warming at his initial gift.

“If you’ll accept my apology, I really would like to try taking you out. Again,” he says, shifting his weight to another leg.

“Wasn’t aware that last night was a date but slow down, tiger. I didn’t say I would forgive you yet.”

“Right!”

You took out the cookie plushie, cursing in your head about how cute it was. He really did know you. You kept going, heart melting the further in the bag you got. You finally got to the card, taking it out of the envelope.

You laugh at the cute seal, “You were an ‘ice hole.’”

Miguel heart sings at your laugh, happy that you were finding joy in this somehow.

You start to read the card, eyes wandering the page. His heart is hammering. Not only did he write his heart out, he dropped his confession of love like for you at the end. Whether or not you accepted it would make or break the rest of Miguel’s week.

Your eyes slowly drifted and you started to blink faster.

“Our time together has been short, but I think of you day and night. I dream about you. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your touch. It sounds sudden and cheesy but none of these parts of you escape my mind. I’m not sure what it felt like for you, but as soon as I was lucky enough to be graced with you in my lab group, I was stuck. To me, you lit up the room. I want to continue to explore that light, if you are willing to have me. May you please forgive me and consider going out with me?”

“If this feels like too much, I completely understand and I’ll-”

“Shut up,” you say, eyes teary. “Do you really mean this, Miguel?”

He stares at you, itching to reach out and hug you, “Every word.”

You wipe at your cheeks, a little overwhelmed. “Come here, you big goof.”

Miguel practically teleports the short distance, wrapping his arms around you. You sniffle in his chest, warmed up in his arms.

“I forgive you,” you say, words muffled into his shirt. “Just don’t ever do that shit again.”

He brings his hand to his head in a salute, “I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“Of course you were a Boy Scout,” you say, giggling as you look up at him. He smelled really good and looked delectable. If you were weaker, you would have answered the door instead of Jess and filled the hallway with obscenities.

🎧

“Tell me though,” you say, trying to ground yourself. “What does one do when he leaves me for two hours?”

Miguel felt a groan in his chest, “Those girls were trying to do some weird harem thing. I was stuck in a room telling them no, trying to drink my way out of there. They kept trying to add more people to the mix, thinking I would go along with it. I didn’t want a case on my hands so it took me a while to get out of there without force.”

You went rigid in his arms, “Oh my god, Miguel!That’s assault.”

“Nothing crazy happened. I made sure that none of them got handsy.”

You bring your hand to his face, “That’s great, but there was still alcohol involved, which makes that coercion. Did you tell anyone about this?”

“Just my roommate, Peter. He sounded a little worried, but we were more focused on getting me to this point with you.”

You remove yourself from his arms and step back into your dorm.

“Stay right here. The council needs to discuss and Jess is on the Student Association,” you say, leaving a crack in the door.

GymRat!Miguel who is sat on the floor of your dorm room and explained the implications of what he went through. Jess ensures him that she’ll get somebody on the case despite Miguel saying that he was ok. You both ensure him that nothing will happen on his end and that this should stop those girls from doing this to anyone else in the future. Miguel is on board with that and you give him one more tight hug.

“Although you didn’t have to, I wish you would have told me. I would have came barging through those doors,” you say, a frown on your face.

“Really, it’s fine. I feel a little silly going along with the whole ordeal anyway.”

“None of that is your fault though, Miguel. You didn’t know what they were going to do or what they were trying to do,” you say, voice firm.

Miguel was enamored by your passion, “Thank you for saying that. If it helps, my father is Tyler Stone.”

Jess turns her body completely to you both on the floor, mouth dropping in shock, “Oh yeah, that entire organization is getting shut down.”

🎧

GymRat!Miguel who walks you out of your dorm, hand in hand with you. You two agreed on a nice coffee date. Something light after so much turmoil. You looked adorable, running around the room frantic and getting all dolled up just for him. He’s happy that he was able to work things out.

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from you, rubbing your hand with his thumb as you both sip your drinks. He begs for bites of your chocolate cake and you roll your eyes and feed it to him, a little shy at the PDA.

GymRat!Miguel who explains his family tree to you. You're still shocked at the Tyler Stone name drop. You're empathetic to his situation, agreeing with how tough it was to find out someone you knew for so long wasn't your actual father. He assures you that he's settled with the feelings for now, just happy to still have a connection with both of his dads and his mom. Plus, the money Tyler sends him was not anything to be sad over.

GymRat!Miguel who learns of your dating history. You've had a boyfriend and few meaningless dates. As you describe how he treated you, it makes sense that you were ready to completely block Miguel out of your life. Who stands up their prom date that they did a promposal for?

GymRat!Miguel who takes you shopping at the bookstore. Letting you get just about anything. Some romance books? Grab it. A plushie? Of course. A Beyoncé vinyl? No need to even ask. He was happy following you around the store as you squealed over certain things. Your eyes twinkled as you explained a series about a deaf girl falling in love and her boyfriend learning sign language to communicate with her. Miguel responds accordingly, humming at whatever you say.

GymRat!Miguel who feels crazy watching you eat a strawberry ring pop that he got from candy machine. You placed it on your left ring finger and he watched as your lips kept puckering around the crown of the candy diamond, taking it to the hilt and pushing it back out. Your tongue would come out occasionally as you slid the candy down it.

"Is it good?" he asks, mind in the gutter.

"Mm hm," you say, a smile on your face, ring pop popping from your mouth.

Lord help Miguel.

GymRat!Miguel who opens his car door for you. He also reaches across and buckles your seatbelt for you, body close to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who walks you to your dorm room, hand still in yours. You both linger there for a moment, taking in each other's space. You peer up at Miguel with those Bambi eyes again.

"I had a really great time with you Miguel," you say, holding your new bag to your chest. "I'm glad you came here this morning."

"I'm glad too," Miguel says looking at you, hearts in his eyes.

You bite your lip, rocking on your feet before you decide to do something.

You reach up on your tip toes and kiss Miguel on his cheek.

He stares at you, shocked. He stares at you a little longer, then begins to lean down. You get excited, hoping that he'll do what you were scared to do.

Jess swings the door open, "Aht aht! Come on inside, girl."

Miguel stands straight, face in flames.

"Good night, Miguel," you say, cheeks feeling hot.

"Good night," Miguel watches as Jess smirks at him before she closes the door.

GymRat!Miguel who floats all the way back to his dorm. Peter grins and tussles with him in excitement after taking in Miguel's appearance. He texts Gabriel while he gets ready for bed:

"When have I ever lost?"

"I kicked your ass in Mario Party last week but go off Ig"

"🖕🏽"

"🫰🏽"

Miguel went to sleep once more, having thoughts of you.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: I’m almost certain that this is the LAST time something this serious happens in this series. It will be pretty fluffy for a while...I think 🫣

As always, thank you for reading! Leave a like and a reblog. Please comment! I love to hear what you guys have to say 🥺 🩵

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