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s4svnn · 2 months ago

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First sexy time after oob!jk and aj reunited plsss

Control - Out of bounds drabbles

Summary: You hated to admit it but the existence of your boyfriend alone was enough to make you horny, so when he was so distracted with work that he wasn’t making any advances on you, there was only one way to get what you wanted - you needed to make him lose control.

Pairing: F1 racer Jungkook x reader (Aylah)

Genre: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/content tags: unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, back shots, orgasm denial, impregnation kink, sub + dom dynamic, degradation kink, oral (f+m receiving), spanking, mirror sex.

When Jungkook told me he was staying in London with me instead of going back to Canada, I was over the moon. And when he surprised me with a freaking penthouse and asked me to move in with him? I swear, I almost blacked out from excitement. More time together, more late-night cuddles, more waking up next to each other—it sounded perfect.

But then reality hit. And by reality, I mean Jungkook. Shirtless. All. The. Damn. Time.

It didn’t matter what time of day it was—morning, afternoon, middle of the night—he was allergic to fabric from the waist up. Just abs, tattoos, and sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips. And to make matters worse, he wasn’t even doing it on purpose. No teasing, no smug looks. Just existing in all his ridiculously sculpted glory like it wasn’t the most unfair thing to ever happen to me.

At first, I tried to be normal about it. “It’s fine,” I told myself. “You’ve seen him shirtless before.”

Yeah, but I hadn’t lived with it. Hadn’t been ambushed by the sight of him casually sipping his morning coffee with messy bed hair, tattoos flexing as he stretched. Hadn’t walked into the living room only to find him doing push-ups because apparently, that’s what he does when he’s bored.

And to top it all off? The man was busy. So busy training for his upcoming matches that he barely had time for me. It wasn’t that he ignored me—no, he still kissed me, still pulled me onto his lap during movie nights, still curled around me in bed like I was his favorite thing in the world. But when it came to, uh, other activities? Yeah. That wasn’t happening.

At first, I was patient. I told myself he was just tired. But as the days passed, my suffering increased. My boyfriend was the human embodiment of temptation, parading around half-naked while I was practically feral. And he had no clue. None.

I was nearing my breaking point.

So, when I walked into the bedroom one night and found Jungkook standing there, fresh out of the shower, damp hair falling into his eyes, abs glistening under the warm lights… I knew I wasn’t making it out of this alive.

“Babe?” he said, tilting his head when he saw me frozen in the doorway. “You good?”

No. No, I was not good.

And if he didn’t do something about it soon, I was going to lose my mind.

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile onto my face. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just gonna… take a shower.”

Jungkook nodded, running a towel through his hair, completely unaware of the absolute war raging inside of me. “Okay,” he said casually, turning back toward the dresser like he wasn’t the reason my entire body felt like it was overheating.

I spun on my heel and practically fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me as if that flimsy piece of wood could somehow protect me from my own thoughts.

The moment the water hit my skin, I let out a deep breath, trying to relax. Trying to wash away the tension. This is fine. This is nothing. You just need to cool down. Literally.

But the second I closed my eyes, he was there. The way he’d been standing in the bedroom just now—fresh from the shower, hair damp, muscles flexing with every little movement. His tattoos, dark and intricate, wrapping around his arms, his shoulders, his chest. The way the water had still clung to his skin, little droplets running down his abs—

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, my fingers twitching at my sides. Maybe… maybe I could just—

I exhaled slowly, letting my hand drift lower, the warm water making everything feel softer, more intense. I tried to focus, to chase the feeling, but it was useless. No matter what I did, my mind kept circling back to him. To Jungkook. To the man standing just outside this door, completely unaware of what he was doing to me.

Frustration curled in my stomach, making my movements frantic, desperate—until suddenly, I knew. It wasn’t going to work.

Nothing was going to work.

Not without him.

With a frustrated groan, I slammed my hand against the shower wall, resting my forehead against the cool tile as I tried to steady my breathing.

This was officially the worst.

Because now, not only was I still aching, but I also had to walk back out there and act like I hadn’t just attempted—and failed—to relieve myself while thinking about my own boyfriend.

Kill me. Just kill me now.

Taking a deep breath, I shut off the water and grabbed my towel, already dreading the moment I had to face him again.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my skin still flushed from the shower, my eyes dark with frustration. This wasn’t working. I needed a new strategy.

And suddenly, an idea hit me.

A very reckless idea.

Normally, I’d bring my clothes into the bathroom and change in here, avoiding any unnecessary… distractions. But tonight? Tonight, I didn’t care. No, actually—I was counting on it.

I grabbed my black lace two-piece set—the one I knew Jungkook loved—and slipped it on, adjusting the delicate fabric until it sat just right. Then, I reached for my cocoa-scented body oil, pouring a generous amount into my palms before smoothing it over my skin, starting from my legs and working my way up.

My hands glided over my thighs, my stomach, my arms—every inch of me gleaming under the bathroom lights, the sweet scent wrapping around me like a second skin. By the time I was done, I looked dangerous. And I felt it too.

The towel I’d wrapped around myself earlier? Straight into the laundry basket. No backup plan, no safety net—just me, my frustration, and the sheer audacity to walk back into that bedroom like this.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and pushed open the door.

Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, completely oblivious to the storm that was about to hit him. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, his jawline sharp under the glow of the bedside lamp. He still hadn’t put a shirt on—because of course he hadn’t. Just sweatpants, hanging low, exposing the sharp V-line that was already my weakness.

He didn’t even look up at first. But then, as I stepped fully into the room, his thumb froze mid-scroll.

And then he looked up.

I watched as his gaze trailed over me, slowly, deliberately. From my bare legs to my oiled-up skin, to the black lace hugging my curves perfectly. His jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

I smirked. Got him.

The air was thick—whether from the heat of my shower or the shift in energy between us, I wasn’t sure. But I could feel it. The weight of his gaze pressing into me, the way his movements seemed to slow, like he wasn’t sure whether to speak or stay silent.

Good. Let him wonder.

I made a show of walking over to my dresser, pulling open a drawer with practiced ease, pretending to search for something important. In reality, I didn’t need anything. I just wanted to make him wait whilst I was bent over giving him a full view of my backside.

Because if there was one thing Jungkook hated, it was being teased.

Still, I said nothing. Just took my time, moving with slow, deliberate care as I picked up my hairbrush and dragged it through my damp strands, the rhythmic strokes filling the tense silence. I could feel him watching me, I could almost hear the way his jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin.

I fought the smirk threatening to curl at the corner of my lips.

"You're really gonna act like I’m not here?" His voice finally cut through the silence, low and edged with something between amusement and irritation.

I blinked, finally pausing my movements, as if I’d only just realized there was another person in the room. Slowly, I turned my head in his direction, my expression blank, eyebrows slightly raised in feigned confusion.

"Hm?" I murmured, tilting my head.

Jungkook leaned back against the bed frame, arms crossed over his chest, eyes locked on me with an intensity that would have made anyone else squirm. But not me. Not tonight.

"I said—" He exhaled sharply, licking his lips as if trying to keep his cool. "You’re really gonna act like I’m not here?"

I frowned slightly, as if deep in thought, then looked around the room as if searching for something. Then, with the most convincingly oblivious expression I could muster, I turned back to him.

"Oh… were you talking to me?" I asked innocently, blinking up at him.

The muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Don't do that," he warned, his voice lower now, more controlled.

I shrugged, returning my focus to my hands as I massaged the last of my lotion into my skin. "Do what?"

I could tell he was biting back his frustration, but that only made my game more fun. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, casually scrolling as if he truly wasn't worth my attention. The air between us was practically crackling now, thick with a tension neither of us would acknowledge—yet.

But I knew Jungkook. And I knew he wasn’t the type to be ignored.

He wouldn’t just sit there and take it.

And that was exactly what I was counting on.

Jungkook was silent for a beat, but I could feel it—the shift in his energy, the way his patience was thinning by the second.

I scrolled idly through my phone, tapping at the screen as if completely engrossed, while in my peripheral vision, I saw him shift his position, one hand running through his dark hair. A habit of his when he was trying—and failing—to keep his composure.

He exhaled, slow and measured. "Alright, bet."

I didn’t react. Didn’t look up. Just kept pretending he wasn’t there, despite the way I could feel the weight of his stare burning into me.

Then, before I could even process his next move, my phone was snatched clean out of my hands.

"What the—" My head snapped up, eyes narrowing as Jungkook leaned back against the bed, holding my phone above his head like it was nothing.

"So now you see me, huh?" His voice was smug, his lips curling into a lazy smirk as he spun my phone between his fingers. "Thought I was invisible a second ago."

I folded my arms, leveling him with an unimpressed stare. "Give it back."

He raised an eyebrow. "Make me."

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play?

I let out a slow breath, tilting my head as I considered my next move. Then, with zero hesitation, I crawled onto the bed, reaching for my phone. But Jungkook, being Jungkook, was already one step ahead, shifting just out of my reach, his smirk deepening.

"Try harder," he challenged.

My frustration flared, but I kept my expression neutral, deciding I wasn’t going to play his game—I was going to flip it.

So instead of lunging for my phone again, I sat back on my heels, brushing a stray strand of hair over my shoulder, acting completely unbothered.

"Fine," I said coolly. "Keep it."

That caught him off guard. His smirk faltered for half a second, his grip on my phone loosening slightly. "What?"

I shrugged. "You clearly need it more than I do. Enjoy whatever you find there." I dragged my gaze over him slowly before turning away, sliding off the bed with a nonchalant grace that I knew would get under his skin.

Jungkook didn’t move at first. He just stood there, watching me, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he was debating his next move. But the look in his eyes told me he’d already made up his mind.

And then, just as I was about to turn away, he grabbed me.

One strong hand wrapped around my wrist, the other settling on my waist as he turned me around, backing me up until my legs hit the edge of the bed. My breath hitched, but I refused to show any reaction. I just stared up at him, my chin high, daring him to do something.

Jungkook let out a slow exhale, his grip firm but not rough. His eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch, like he was deciding exactly how he wanted this to go.

Then, his voice dropped—low, steady, completely in control.

"Get on the bed."

I blinked, heat prickling up my spine at the way he said it. Not a question. Not a suggestion. A command.

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook’s jaw ticked, and in response, he leaned in, his hand sliding from my wrist to my hip, squeezing lightly. "You heard me," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Get on the bed."

A slow, deliberate silence settled between us.

I could have fought him on it. Could have tested him a little more, dragged this out just to make him work for it.

But something about the way he said it—the way his voice dipped, the way his grip tightened just enough to remind me that he wasn’t playing anymore—made me decide against it.

Without breaking eye contact, I stepped back, the backs of my knees pressing into the mattress.

Then, still moving slowly, I climbed onto the bed.

Jungkook watched me the entire time, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek, like he was pleased. Like he had been expecting me to obey.

I sat back on my hands, one leg bent, the other stretched out, watching him carefully. "Happy now?"

Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers flexing at his sides. "Not yet."

Then he took a step closer.

And just like that, the game had changed.

Jungkook’s smirk didn’t fade as he hovered over me, his bare chest inches from mine, heat radiating between us. His hands skimmed my thighs, firm but slow, his touch setting fire to my skin.

"See?" he murmured, his lips so close to mine I could feel his breath. "I knew you couldn’t lie to me."

I refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, but my body betrayed me—my breathing uneven, my pulse racing beneath his touch.

He noticed. Of course, he did.

His fingers traced higher, his thumbs pressing into my hips as he pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other now. My breath hitched at the feeling of his skin against mine, the warmth, the tension so thick it was almost unbearable.

Jungkook tilted his head, his lips barely grazing my jaw, trailing down—slow, deliberate, teasing.

"You act tough," he murmured, his voice low, rough. "But the second I touch you…"

His hands slid up my waist, fingertips ghosting over my ribcage, and I had to fight the urge to arch into him.

"You go back to being a slut for me," he finished, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.

A quiet gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

Jungkook smirked.

"That’s what I thought," he murmured against my skin.

I exhaled, fighting to stay composed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as his touch traveled, inch by inch, making me burn for more without a single word spoken.

“You’ve got this way of acting like you’re in control," Jungkook murmured, leaning in, his lips brushing against my ear. "But I know better."

I barely held it together, my body reacting instinctively, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his gaze searing. “So don’t worry,” he added with a hint of mischief in his voice. “I’ll make sure you feel it.”

If you had told me an hour ago that I’d be at Jungkook’s mercy, I wouldn’t have believed you for a second. The version of me standing in the bathroom, all glazed up, thought she was going to have complete control over her boyfriend. But now, looking at the present situation, I can see just how delusional I was..

I was now sitting on the floor, my legs tucked underneath me, feeling a rush of vulnerability as Jungkook stood over me. The weight of his presence was overwhelming, his figure towering as he looked down at me with an intensity that sent shivers through my body. His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently at first before pulling me closer, his grip firm and possessive. With a deliberate, slow movement, he guided my mouth, making sure every inch of his length was covered as he moved me back and forth. The control he held over me was undeniable, each motion timed perfectly, leaving me breathless and at his mercy. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and despite the haze in my mind, I couldn’t deny how thoroughly he had taken charge of the moment.

"Good girl," he breathed, his voice low and thick with desire. As his pace quickened, his hands gripped me tighter, urging me on. "You take me so well," he continued, the words dripping with approval. The rhythm between us grew more frantic, and he could feel every subtle movement I made in perfect sync with him. I gagged as he continued his relentless pace, shoving me forward as he pushed his hips further into my mouth with more force, tightening his grip on my hair to keep me in place as he used me to chase his own high.

Once he released himself into my mouth, he tilted my head back, his eyes locking onto mine with a cold, unwavering stare. 'Swallow it,' he demanded, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. I paused, staring back at him, my lips curling into a mischievous grin, as if daring him to push further. Then without warning, his hand shot out, tightening around my neck, pulling me in so close I could feel his breath on my skin. His gaze burned into mine as he growled, his voice low and full of authority, 'Swallow it, Aylah. I won’t repeat myself.”

With no more hesitation, I swallowed, feeling the pressure of his gaze intensify. His grip remained firm on my neck, his eyes never leaving mine as I processed the sharp command hanging in the air between us. The taste lingered on my tongue, and I could feel the weight of the moment, each second feeling like a challenge he was daring me to meet. Then without warning, he gripped me tightly, lifting me effortlessly off the ground and tossing me onto his shoulders. My body was suspended for a moment, disoriented, before my legs instinctively wrapped around his neck. The shift in position was swift and commanding, my hands instinctively grabbing onto his hair to steady myself as my heat came in direct contact with his face.

For a brief moment, he stood there, silent and still, as if waiting for something. Then, slowly, he began to exhale warm breaths directly into my core, each one caressing my skin with a heat that seemed to grow more intense with every passing second. The soft, steady warmth made my body react instinctively, heat pooling in places I hadn’t expected as I arched into his touch. I could feel the subtle curve of his lips as he smiled against me, a smile that was tinged with satisfaction, clearly pleased by my response. After a brief pause, his voice dropped to a low, almost dangerous tone. “You don’t deserve this,” he murmured, each word deliberate and heavy with meaning, “after the stunt you pulled.” There was a pause, just long enough to make my heart race, before he continued, his voice darker and laced with authority, “But you’re lucky I’m patient, I’ll leave your punishment to later.”

Before I could fully process the weight of his words, I felt the fabric of my thong shift as his hand moved with precision, pushing it aside to expose my wetness to him. The air around me seemed to still for a moment, every inch of my body acutely aware of the shift in the atmosphere, as his tongue moved slowly and deliberately in a long, lingering stripe across my core. I found myself momentarily frozen, a mix of surprise and anticipation rushing through me, my breath catching in my throat. Yet, despite the effect his touch had on me, he continued without hesitation, completely unfazed by the way my body reacted. He dipped in further, his movements growing more urgent as he devoured me with an intensity that felt almost desperate. It was as though he'd been starved for so long, his actions frantic, as if he feared that at any second I might slip away and he'd never have this again.

He paused momentarily, his lips brushing lightly against the skin of my thigh as he pulled back just enough to catch his breath. His eyes, heavy with satisfaction, met mine, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice low and rich with appreciation, as if every taste was a revelation. He then shifted his stance, harshly throwing my back against the wall, as he forced his face further in between my legs, gripping my thighs with increased pressure. His hands strong and assertive pulled me closer, guiding my movements with a firm control, I couldn’t help but release a soft, breathless moan caught in the intensity of the moment. But before I could completely ride out my high he pulled away dropping me onto the bed without hesitation.

I let out a soft whine, my breath shaky as I propped myself up on my arms, struggling to steady myself. My voice was a mix of confusion and frustration as I looked at him. “What gives? I thought you said I was off the hook.” My words hung in the air, a little pleading, but more curious, as I tried to make sense of the shift in his demeanor." He smirked at me, his eyes glinting with that familiar, teasing intensity. “I didn’t say you were off the hook, I said I’d leave your punishment to later” he replied, his tone playful yet firm, as if reminding me that the game was far from over.

I glared at him, my eyes narrowing as my body stiffened in defiance. I refused to give in easily, the challenge burning within me. But as I met his gaze, I saw the determination in his eyes—unwavering, unmoving—and I knew that resistance was futile. With a reluctant, heavy sigh, I began to turn agonizingly slow before his hands reached out grabbing my thighs to hoist my ass up and against him, as he pushed my head down to lay flat on the bed. Suddenly, his hand shot out again and gripped my hair, yanking my head back with a sharp pull that jolted my neck. His face was inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath. His voice was low, filled with an edge of frustration. “Stop acting like a little bitch, and do what I say,” he growled, his words carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore.

I pushed my ass into him, desperately trying to gain some form of touch, but his grip tightened, holding me in place. A smirk spread across his face, his eyes glinting with amusement as he stared at the evident stain my wetness left on his sweatpants. “Treating you like a slut turns you on, noted.” Before I could even get the words out to tell him to hurry up, his hand came down with surprising force, the sound of it cutting through the air with a loud, stinging crack that resonated between us as I jolted forward. The impact sent a shockwave through my body, the sharp sting on my ass lingering long after the sound faded, leaving the tension in the air thick and almost palpable as I moaned out at the sensation.

At my lack of response another sharp slap landed on my ass, this one even harder than the first, leaving an imprint of his hand on me. He started massaging the spot where his hand had landed, the pressure of his fingers working into my skin, as he dropped his fingers in between my legs dragging them up and down my folds to collect my slick before dipping his fingers into his mouth, “You’re so responsive.” I let out a soft whine, feeling my patience wear thin at his actions. “Jungkook, please,” I said, my voice laced with a hint of desperation. He leaned down closer, a playful smile tugging at his lips as his body laid flat against my back, his abs digging into my behind, “Please what, my love?” he teased.

I spoke again, my tone dropping slightly “Fuck me.” He paused for a moment, leaning in closer as if listening intently, only to tilt his head and raise an eyebrow, acting completely oblivious to what I had just said. “Hmm?” He leaned in even further, a playful smile curling at the corners of his lips. “I didn’t quite catch that.” he teased, his tone light. “Could you speak a little louder, my love?” His eyes twinkled with mischief, and I could tell he was enjoying the moment far more than I was. Then with newfound confidence I spoke more angrily “hurry up and fuck me you prick,” but unfortunately he didn’t react in the way I expected, instead he pulled me backwards by my neck, his pants long gone as he forced me down onto his length pulling me to sit flat on his lap, his legs in between mine as the sudden intrusion caused me to cry out. “Talk to me like that again you bitch, I dare you.” he spoke lowly, his anger radiating off him.

I let out sharp breaths trying to adjust to the feeling but Jungkook didn't allow me to do so, instead he grabbed my hips harshly pushing me up and down against him, bringing his mouth to ear before whispering “you wanted to be impatient, so this is on you.” My breathing quickened as his pace became more relentless, the sound of skin slapping against eachother filled the quietness of the room, as he thrusted into me whilst dragging my hips down to meet his brutal actions. The intensity of it all led to me inadvertently clenching around his length, causing him to push me down so that I was layed flat against the bed as he took me from behind, watching my ass clap as he pushed harshly into me. I moaned out at the sensation urging him to carry on as he grabbed onto the skin of my ass dragging me backwards, his nails dinging into my skin as he spoke clearly amused by my reaction “You like that, you like being a slut for me?”

“Y-yes go h-harder, fuck.” At that, he smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. Without a word, he stopped moving, his hands gripping my waist with firm control. In one smooth motion, he turned me on the bed to face the floor-to-ceiling mirror that reflected both of us. I found myself suddenly face-to-face with my own dishevlled reflection, yet my gaze remained locked with his through the mirror. He stood proudly behind me, his presence commanding, a contrast to the vulnerability that seemed to radiate from me as I was bent down before him for him to as he pleased with me.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and deliberate, the words piercing the silence. “You see that?” His voice was calm, yet there was an edge to it that made my heart race. “I’m in control, don’t ever get that twisted.” His eyes burned with a quiet authority as he spoke, making sure every word sank in, before he continued his relentless pace forcing my head up to watch him through the mirror. His hand gripped the back of my neck tightly urging me to watch as he used me for his own pleasure, leaving marks all over my body as he claimed me entirely with his actions. “I want you to watch,” he said, his words carrying weight as he subtly emphasized the command. His eyes stayed fixed on me through the reflection, never wavering, as if reminding me to stay present in the moment, fully aware of everything happening between us, “You’re mine you understand.”

“Y-yes—” I cried out overwhelmed by the feeling of his length pounding into me as I felt myself nearing my release. I watched as his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile. The change was subtle, but unmistakable—he seemed pleased, the tension in his features easing as he spoke clearly content with my response, “good girl, now take me like the slut you are, take all of me.” I cried out again as I felt him release inside of me, his pace not faltering even in the slightest as he sped up throwing me into a state of overstimulation, his voice looming over the sounds of my moans, “You’d look so good carrying my child, fuck, imagine that.” His voice only edged me further as I clenched around him cumming for what felt like the hundreth time as he filled my mind with more impure thoughts, “Shit, you like that don’t you, the idea of being filled with my cum, have me put a kid inside you.”

I gasped at the seriousness of his words, my mind turning off as I welcomed the idea of bearing his child, completely possessed by his alluring tone. Then with a few last thrusts his movements came to a halt as he laid down against my behind, his length still inside me as he kissed up my back, "I love you. I love you so fucking much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. The words hit me like a rush, and without thinking, I turned my neck slightly to face him, my breath catching. "I love you too, babe," I whispered in return, the sincerity of my words clear. Then, without hesitation, I kissed him, matching the raw intensity of his previous actions, our connection deepening with every second. I pulled away slightly, resting my forehead against his, letting the moment stretch out just a bit longer. A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I gazed up at him, teasing, "So, impregnation kink?"

He blinked, a sudden flush creeping up his neck, and quickly turned his face away, trying to hide the red on his cheeks. "Shut up," he muttered, clearly embarrassed. I raised an eyebrow, amused, then leaned in just enough to catch his eyes. "To be fair, I'd be lying if I said I was opposed to the idea." The blush deepened, his face turning even more red, as he stumbled for words. "W-what?" he stuttered, his voice betraying his unease. I smirked, feeling the teasing spark between us. "But you're going to have to put a ring on me first, Jeon," I said, my words playful but laced with absolute seriousness.

At that, he broke into a wide grin, his face still flushed. He kissed me all over, his lips soft and insistent, a promise in each touch. "I will, I will I promise," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, as his hands gently cradled my face as he kissed me again. “I love you.”

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socialobligation · 1 month ago

Note

Hihi!! U said ud like to start doing more writings rather than smaus, so I thought I’d leave u a writing request this time! Okay so picture this, it’s post-war with bakugou x mia!reader who was presumed dead but apparently was just stranded in the middle of nowhere (this part is kind of a plothole but if u could figure out something that would be sososo amazing!!) and after like 6 months finally reunite post-war?? Ofc take ur time and stay healthy author !! Love ur work !!<3333

six months too late | k. bakugo

bakugo thought you were gone. for six months, he lived with that weight. but fate had other plans—and now, you're standing right in front of him.

bakugo had never been good at dealing with grief.

anger? sure. fear? he could mask it. pain? he lived with that shit daily. but grief? real, soul-crushing loss that settled deep in his bones and refused to leave? that was different.

and it was eating him alive.

you had been gone for six months.

the war ended, but not without casualties. the city was rebuilding, heroes stretched thin trying to repair the damage. civilians were starting to feel safe again. life was moving on.

but bakugo couldn't.

because you weren't there.

no body. no trace. no closure.

just... gone.

they'd looked for you. he'd looked for you—refused to stop even after the others tried to tell him it was no use. rescue teams had combed through the rubble, searching collapsed buildings and debris for any sign of you. but all they ever found were reminders of how brutal the battle had been.

a boot. blood on the pavement.

but never you.

bakugo had stood there, watching as they cleared the wreckage, hands clenched into fists so tight his nails left crescent moons in his palms. he didn't speak. didn't move.

he didn't cry.

because if he did—if he let that crack form even for a second—he wouldn't survive it.

he stopped saying your name after the first month.

it hurt too much.

everyone could see it. he wasn't the same.

bakugo still trained with the same intensity, still went through the motions of being a hero-in-training, but the fire was gone. his explosions felt duller. his anger, less controlled.

the dorms were quieter without you. your laugh used to echo through the hallways, bright and infectious. you'd tease him relentlessly, calling him out on his bullshit with that signature grin he pretended to hate.

now? silence.

even his friends had stopped trying to get him to talk about it. they didn't ask how he was doing anymore—probably because they knew the answer.

shitty.

he was doing shitty.

bakugo didn't sleep much anymore.

every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.

not the way he wanted to remember you—smiling, happy, calling him an idiot when he tried to act cool.

no.

he saw you in that moment.

the war. the smoke. the chaos.

"get out of here!" you'd screamed, shoving him back, your eyes wide with desperation. "go, bakugo!"

he didn't listen. he never would.

but then—the explosion.

a flash of light. a deafening roar.

and you were gone.

bakugo woke up most nights with his heart pounding, breath ragged as he reached for something—someone—who wasn't there.

his bed was cold. the dorm was quiet.

and you were still gone.

he should've been there. should've done something. should've protected you.

bakugo had played that moment over in his head a thousand times, wondering where it went wrong. how he let you slip away. how he—of all people—had failed to save the one person he couldn't live without.

six months. that's how long it had been.

life didn't wait for grief to pass. UA moved forward. class 1-a graduated and stayed on as provisional heroes to assist with the rebuilding efforts. the dorms weren't as chaotic anymore. they were quiet. colder. bakugo still trained like his life depended on it. he threw himself into work with relentless determination, trying to drown out the ache that never went away. his body was exhausted, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness that gnawed at him from the inside.

kirishima watched him with worried eyes. mina tried to get him to open up, but he brushed her off. kaminari—even kaminari—stopped cracking jokes about "grumpy bakugo" because this... this wasn't just grumpiness. this was grief. and no one knew how to fix it.

bakugo didn't say it out loud, but he had given up. he stopped checking the reports. stopped listening when the search teams gave their updates. stopped hoping. because hoping hurt too much.

it was a random afternoon when everything changed. the sun was setting, casting long shadows over the UA campus. bakugo was heading back to the dorms after another grueling training session, his body sore and his mind numb. he was used to this feeling by now—the hollow ache in his chest that never fully went away.

but then—

"bakugo." the voice was soft. almost too soft. his brain didn't register it at first. it couldn't.

"katsuki."

that voice. his heart stopped.

slowly, like he was afraid moving too fast would break the fragile illusion, he turned around. and there you were. standing a few feet away, looking tired, worn, and a little worse for wear. but alive.

alive.

bakugo didn't move. didn't breathe.

"hey," you said, voice barely above a whisper, like you weren't sure he'd even want to see you.

bakugo's knees nearly gave out.

"holy shit," he breathed, his voice cracking as his feet finally moved. he stumbled forward like a man possessed, eyes locked on you as if he was afraid you'd disappear again if he blinked.

you didn't move. didn't speak. and then—you were in his arms.

bakugo crushed you against his chest, arms wrapped around you so tightly it was like he was trying to make sure this was real—that you were real.

"you're..." his voice broke, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like it would anchor him to reality. "you're real."

"i'm real," you murmured, your voice trembling as you clung to him just as desperately. "i'm here, katsuki."

bakugo's body shook. "where the fuck were you?" his voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "do you know how long i—"

"i know," you whispered, pulling back just enough to cup his face in your hands. "i know. i'm so sorry, katsuki."

his eyes were glassy, filled with too many emotions to name. anger. relief. pain. love.

"i thought..." his voice trailed off, and his grip on you tightened. "i thought i lost you."

"you didn't," you smiled, pressing your forehead against his. "i'm here now. i'm not going anywhere."

"swear it." his voice was barely audible, but the desperation in it was palpable.

"i swear."

bakugo's lips crashed against yours. it wasn't gentle. it was raw, desperate—a collision of lips and teeth and everything he'd been holding back for six long months. he kissed you like he was trying to make up for every second you'd been gone, like he was terrified this was still a dream. but you kissed him back just as fiercely.

and for the first time in six months, bakugo katsuki could breathe again.

you didn't talk about it right away. the first night, you stayed curled up in his bed, wrapped in his arms like he was afraid to let go. bakugo didn't sleep—just held you, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, grounding himself in the steady rise and fall of your breathing. he didn't ask where you'd been. didn't ask how you survived. because right now? none of that mattered.

you were here. that was all that mattered.

days passed before you could bring yourself to tell him. about how the explosion had thrown you so far, so fast, that no one thought to look beyond the city. how you'd been buried under debris, barely clinging to life, until a group of villagers in a remote area found you and nursed you back to health.

how you'd spent every waking moment after that trying to get back to him.

"i tried, katsuki," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you sat on his bed, hands trembling in his. "i tried to come back."

"i know."

bakugo's thumb brushed over your knuckles, his touch gentle despite the storm in his eyes.

"i didn't mean to leave you."

"i know."

his jaw clenched, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. "you're not leaving again."

"i'm not."

"swear it."

"i swear."

bakugo kissed you again, slower this time, softer—like he was memorizing every inch of you all over again. and for the first time in six months, he wasn't holding onto a ghost.

you stayed by his side after that. bakugo didn't sleep alone anymore. every night, he fell asleep with his arms around you, grounding himself in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. and every morning, when he woke up and saw you there—he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay again.

it wasn't easy. some days were harder than others. but you were there.

and bakugo?

he wasn't letting go this time.

not now. not ever.

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vividxpages · 9 months ago

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✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 2 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 1700

summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)

warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing

a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!

𓆩♡𓆪

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.

Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.

Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.

(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.

You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”

“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“

Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.

“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)

You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.

But oh, how your heart still clung to them.

The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.

Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.

But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.

And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.

You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.

Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.

You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.

Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.

But you were alone, for the first time in months.

You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.

When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.

And Luke had been still alive.

(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)

Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.

You crashed together like two waves.

The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.

Only Jace was holding you together right now.

He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.

You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.

“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.

He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“

His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“

“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”

Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“

“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”

He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“

“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“

“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”

You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.

A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”

His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.

There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.

He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.

Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…

You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.

Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.

You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?

On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?

#jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #harry collett #jace targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing

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digiflora · 1 year ago

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𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄!

... aka fictional boyfriends as things my pet cat does lmfao

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ my genshin, hsr & jjk faves

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ switching up the layout bc i can teehee... also this one is kinda slop cos its just every character on my masterlist oop. N E WAYS i found out that im allergic to my cat but love is pain and i am a masochist so here we are

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DOESN'T RESPOND UNLESS YOU CALL HIM BY HIS NICKNAME.

he's leaning against your kitchen counter, fingers tapping against it as he's poised so deliberately to give off the impression that everything he's doing is so absent-minded. the way he's scrolling through his feed so aimlessly, just tuned out from the world, including you and your futile attempts at getting his attention.

you call his name, tug at his sleeve, and you don't miss the mischievous smirk on his lips as he glances up at you.

"i don't know who that is, sorry, i hope you find him though."

it's infuriating, sometimes, when he lets his more playful side out. but you know him well, and you play along, not being able to help the smile that fights to stay on your lips.

"well then, my beloved, could you help me look for him?"

and there's an instant change from him, back straightening as he stops leaning against your counter, arms open wide to receive you, a beam on his face.

"gladly, my love."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ kaveh, welt, dan heng, luocha, GETO

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GETS EXTRA AFFECTIONATE AND CUDDLY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

no matter as to whether you had gone to bed with him or before, you're woken up prematurely in the middle of the night at the sensation of your body being moved, ever so gently, across the sheets, closer towards a warm body that nestles itself solidly behind you.

you're barely awake, but you smile to yourself at the newfound comfort, having drifted away as you slept, and now happily reunited.

"i missed you," he breathes against your ear, turning his head to dip down and press kisses to your cheek. you smile, nose scrunching at the ends of his hair that tickle your skin, but welcome it nonetheless.

his arm slips around you, keeping you safely anchored to him, and he lets out a contented hum that almost sounds like he's purring, chest solid against your back.

"you're acting like you've come back from war," you murmur, and he can hear the way you tease even in your half asleep state.

"every second away from you is agony, my love."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ DILUC, alhaitham, JING YUAN, choso, NANAMI

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 RANDOMLY BITES AND HEADBUTTS YOU.

sure, there's doing something unexpected to grab your attention, but it catches you off guard every. single. time.

he has seemingly no regard for whatever it is that you're doing- you're cooking something? he sneaks up behind you, teeth sinking into your shoulder before he slinks away like it never happened.

trying to get work done? he comes up to you, using his head to poke you and offering no explanation as he walks away.

it's ... endearing, to say the least. it comes from a place of love, that's for sure. make no mistake that you like to bite him too, but he still manages to one-up you each time.

while it started off as surprising in the early days of your relationship, over time you've adapted to it, now even offering a body part for him to headbutt as a greeting.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ cyno, WRIOTHESLEY, neuvillette, BLADE, toji, HIGURUMA

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AND WHINES IF YOU DON'T GIVE HIM ENOUGH ATTENTION.

"babyyyy, i'm bored."

you don't have to turn around to know that he's pouting, some grown ass man acting like a toddler in hopes that you'd pay attention to him. you can't help but roll your eyes, what with him pushing the limit between cute and aggravating for the past half an hour or so.

ever since you had invited him over and he practically let himself in, he had basically followed you from room to room, huffing and puffing as you focused on your work instead of entertaining him.

and as you finally settled in your room, at your desk, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he flopped down onto your bed, his head dangling off the edge as he scrolled through his phone half-heartedly.

and you had to admit, he looked cute like that. you bite back your smile as you see him glance up at you to see if you're looking at him before flopping back down on the bed with a huff.

you'll be done soon, then you'll give him all the attention he wants.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CHILDE, thoma, sampo, gepard, GOJO

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... enjoy the silence!

an introduction to your new roommate dan heng, and the guitar that he loves to play so much

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queers-gambit · 7 months ago

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Bait and Switch

prompt: ( requested ) Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

pairing: Elrond x female!wife!reader -> hair color specified reader that does not specify race

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 7.7k+

note: did i steal the Targaryen hair color? "obviously," - Severus Snape. but don't let HOTD's wigs fool you - this hair color is NOT indicative of race.

warnings: reader insert for the haters, spoilers, cursing, angst, hurt and comfort, fuck tone of ellipsis 'cause Adar talks slow. POW!Reader (prisoner of war), violence, blood, injury, depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization), slight gore (Reader bites off an Orc finger). healthy family dynamics, embedded Aragorn quote, Middle-earth fire is hotter than reality so JUST. roll. with. it. okay? okay. also, this requires a lot of imagination 'cause author invents really random lore but have fun with it. not edited, author can't see straight so what the fuck is this?

incarnate: embody or represent (a diety or spirit) in human form

"We found an Elf still alive, Lord Father!"

Adar watched lazily as one of his children stood over a body covered by toxic volcanic ash; twitching as it regained consciousness. "Kill it," he answered simply. The Orc snarled in pleasure and bent to grab the Elf's head; gripping their hair aggressively, yanking their head up - possibly snapping the Elf's spine - and lifted his blade in the air. However, the clump of hair was familiar and suddenly, Adar was barking, "Wait!"

Not many Elves had this particular hair color. It was dyed from soot and ash, but he could recognize the bright, platinum white-blonde hair. While some Elves were extremely fair yellow-blonde, this was white - like the purest of snows. And Adar only knew this trait belonged to one single bloodline.

The Incarnated, a single brood blessed by the Valar to give them unnatural strength and skill in battle. They were impressive, formidable foes; and typically, never lost a fight, battle, or war. They were absolutely brutish, almost impossible to kill, yet humble, generous, and kind.

Their aim always found the bullseye. Broadswords able to sever bone. Morality skewed more positive than simple neutrality. Silver tongues sharpened to prick the ears that listen.

However, it should be noted that even the Incarnated cannot withstand against the eruption of a volcano.

The Orc snarled with confusion now, hissing through his bloody teeth but not lowering the Elf. Adar strolled over, glaring at their captive, but slowly lowering himself to a squat as the Orc presented his finding. Adar's eyes squinted, reaching out and musing the trademark locks out of the Elf's face; smirking as he caressed her cheek free of ash.

He growled your name, sight still hazy from the eruption of what will later be known as Mount Doom - yet could still recognize sounds. Slowly, you blinked and tried to focus, groaning as pain in your scalp burned and prickled; spine bowed from the horribly painful position.

"Adar?" You whispered in confusion.

"You remember me."

You scoffed, slurring slightly, "You left quite a lasting impression."

His hand dropped to push hair from your neck and shoulder, revealing a long blemish from his dagger years ago. "And here we meet yet again," Adar chuckled. "Release her," he told his child, who instantly dropped you with a grunt; ash puffing up on impact. "Come," Adar offered his hand as you tried to sit up with trembling limbs, "we've still farther to go."

"Fuck you," you seethed, spitting at him; ready for the pain to end after the displacement and turmoil of your people. You had been with the Númenoreans, along with Commander Galadriel, and this... "King" Halbrand; celebrating victory against Adar's first volley of Orcs when the explosion happened; spewing toxicity into the earth, through the air, and evidently, over the area to distinguish what will be known as Mordor.

"Hm," Adar considered your weak form, chuckling. "Get her up," he commanded, standing, and watching as chains were slapped to your wrists and ankles before being tossed into a bloody, maggot-infested, wood-rotting wagon.

Seemingly eons away, Elrond was being informed of your assumed demise. Your husband refused to believe it, but by the solemn look of the messenger, his greatest companion, Galadriel, he knew there was weighted truth to her words.

"Did you see her?" Elrond asked.

"See her fall? No - "

"Did you even look for her?"

"Of course we did, but it was too dangerous to linger longer than what we'd been there for."

Elrond's head shook, "No. No... I won't believe it - "

"I know it's difficult to accept, but... She's gone, Elrond."

"I would know if my wife is dead," Elrond snarled uncharacteristically. "Believe what you wish, but I know she still lives."

Galadriel knew better than to argue; she, herself, spent years of denial after Sauron murdered her brother, Finrod. So she gave Elrond space to process what he'd learned.

Yet while a circumstantially redeeming quality, Elrond was stubborn and confident in his morals and opinions. So, he refused to believe your life was lost; something in his gut twisted knowingly, assuring you were just misplaced and surely, soon to be home. Elrond knew you had a flair for the dramatic, so, he just prayed this was one of those times - where you wouldn't reappear until the very last second to make an entrance.

Yet Adar took every precaution to ensure you did not escape or could be rescued. He didn't parade you around, he kept you hidden away to prevent gossip from revealing your location. You were constantly left chained to posts by rusting irons, no comfort offered, no reprieve; nothing to pass your annoying suffering a little easier. You were fed just enough to be kept alive, you were allowed to wash yourself with a single cloth every few weeks - but typically with an Orcish audience watching, claiming they're "on duty". You lost use of your tongue after so many months had passed without a single indication aid had been deployed - hope shattered and futile.

You wondered if Elrond knew. You worried he thought you lost to the war. In vain, you prayed he didn't give up on you. However, you were logical and logic screamed at you that nobody would come - there was no point! You would've believed being told someone perished, too, if you heard of such circumstances.

Despite being an Incarnated, you were emotionally drained. Though, it's worth noting that under normal circumstances, you would've NEVER ended up in this position; but because of your vulnerable state and the opportunity was too good to pass up, Adar prided himself on "defeating you". He didn't know that you were beyond patient; waiting, observing, listening, leaning routines and schedules. Any opportunity you identified, you searched for anything that could help you escape; something sharp, small enough to pick the lock of your irons. You were Incarnated - your will to survive (even out of pure spite) rivaled that of any enemy.

Camp to camp, you were moved. Day by day, you lost a little more sanity. Nights grew cold, days short.

You were surprised when a pair of Orcs lumbered into "your" room, unlocking you from the post but keeping the chains on your wrists in place. They yanked you behind them, shoved you into Adar's tented shelter then forced you to your knees before the food-filled banquet table.

"And of course, there's her," Adar waved at you lazily, smirking when his newest prisoner of war sat forward with a gobsmacked expression.

She whispered your name, head snapping up to find your companion, Commander Galadriel, sat at the opposite head of the table to Adar. You smiled slightly and whispered her name softly, aware of your appearance and how straggly, despondent, and wary you must look.

"What is the meaning of this?" Galadriel demanded, the emotion in her thick voice making it crack.

"We found her," Adar smirked, "after you and your people abandoned her."

"We did not - "

"She's been... An honored guest of ours," Adar cut Galadriel off. "Her hair - it's a rare trait, I knew who she was when she was found. Figured she could truly help... Turn the tides in this war."

"You do not know what you've done," Galadriel breathed. "If her kin knew you held her, they would raze your camp into the dirt and return your children to darkness."

"You think... I do not understand the risks of holding an Incarnated? I have faced them before, known their wrath... But against Sauron, it was a necessary risk to take."

"Why?"

"You must see," Adar explained, "that it is not His lies which must be extinguished. It. Is. Him." He paused, revealing, "And I can help you do it." Adar leaned forward in his chair, "I can help you destroy Sauron, and should you value your friend's life, you will let me help you."

"What help could you possibly provide, Orc?" Galadriel spat, now leaned back casually in the chair Adar sat her in.

"Uruk," Adar corrected in Black Speech, standing from his seat to venture towards the side of the room. He stood before a plain wooden box, lifting the lid, and revealing in his hands:

"Morgoth's crown," Galadriel sat up. "I was told - "

"There are many stories of what happened after the Silmarils were pried from its setting," Adar validated. "But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit Himself. I was there when He kneeled to be crowned. And I was the one who used its power to slay Him."

Adar set the crown to the table, your stomach growling at the sight and smell of full platters.

"If what you say is true... Why did He return?" Galadriel asked.

"Because I had not yet found you, as I have her," he gestured at you.

"What part are we to play in this?"

"It is said the Three Elven Rings saved your people from fading. Is it true?" When Galadriel didn't answer, Adar nodded at one of his children standing over you; making the Orc bash you in the temple. "Is it true?" Adar repeated over your whimper of pain.

"Yes," Galadriel grit, glaring at the small dribble of fresh blood dripping down the side of your face. She decided red wasn't your color - no matter how much your husband liked seeing you in it.

"Then perhaps... Together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever. The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp... But I know he hides in Eregion. And I suspect you know for certain... Halbrand is Sauron... Isn't he?"

You laughed a little, "Halbrand? Sauron? Come off it, you're mistaken. Go on, Commander, tell him - tell him." Galadriel was silent as she was overwhelmed by her memories. "Commander, tell him he's wrong! Halbrand isn't Sauron, tell him he's mistaken!"

Adar mistook the silence as her being defiant, nodding to his son again in permission. So, the Orc swiftly backhanded you with enough force, it literally toppled you backwards with a groan.

"I kept her alive... For you," Adar growled, bearing his teeth at the Elleth. "But I'll execute her at nightfall if you continue down this path of resistance. The fate of that city and your friend now rests on your ability to put aside your pride." Galadriel's teary eyes casted over you, sprawled out on the floor - not finding the use in sitting up to your knees again. "I suggest you find the will to do so... If you can, for everyone's sake." Adar removed the crown from the table and placed it back in its box, Galadriel hissing your name, only receiving a nonverbal thumbs up to indicate you were okay. When the Father of Uruks returned, he clipped matching irons to Galadriel's wrist before snatching up his sword, tossing over his shoulder, "We will speak again. I'll give you until nightfall to decide."

The Orcs filed out of the room after Adar, leaving you on the ground and chained to a spare post. Slowly, you tried to sit up and use the beam as support; grimacing in pain that made your friend question, "Are you hurt?"

"They're not the most merciful lot," you tried to joke with a smirk, but it turned into a wince, "but I've been through worse, I'll be fine. Listen to me, Galadriel," you sniffled, "you can't tell Adar anything. I don't care if he's gutting me, you don't tell him - "

"I would not have your life ended on my account, it would be as if swinging the sword myself!" Galadriel argued with heat.

"Adar is not your ally," you scoffed, "nor are the Orcs - look at what they've done! Continue to do! Do not be so foolish! So blinded, please, I beg you, my friend. If you tell him about Sauron, yes, your enemy might be vanquished, but you could be creating an entirely new and future enemy that all of Middle-earth must endure. My life is not worth that."

"It's worth more."

You smirked, "Don't forget who I am, friend; I am Incarnated, and I will not die easily nor without a fight. Adar will not succeed in my death so easily."

Galadriel shook her head, "If I do not indulge Adar with information I have and you lose your life because of that, Elrond would never forgive me."

You gave a watery smile, sniffling, "How is he?"

The Elf shook her head, "He's... He refuses to accept your fate, operates on a shorter fuse, he's mourning - even if he doesn't acknowledge or believe he is."

"It's not that I don't love you, my friend, but... I'll miss him the most," you let a single tear fall, a wistful smile toying on your lips. "You'll look out for him, won't you? Just... Just don't let him be alone, please. He'll try to push you away, but be patient; he'll need you and I'll rest easier knowing you'll be there."

"I won't do as you ask," Galadriel grit. "Look at you!"

"How can you be so confident that the moment you tell Adar what he wants to know, he won't kill me anyway?"

"Because Adar appears a man of rationality - unlike Sauron - "

You scoffed, "None of them are rational, Galadriel! They have their own agendas - and none of them benefit the likes of us! Don't tell him anything else, I don't care if he's gutting me like a pig, you don't say anything!"

"I can't agree to that," Galadriel shook her head, "I won't, not when there's a chance we can both get out of this alive."

"And if we survive just to witness the eradication of our people!?" Galadriel was silent, bowing her head. With a sigh, you asked, "Where's Nenya?"

"Safe with Elrond."

"Oh?" You chuckled. "How'd that happen? You have to break his finger off to put it on?"

Galadriel gave a breathy chuckle, "He needed a bit of convincing, but with the greater good at stake - he was left no choice."

With a smirk of amusement, you nodded slowly, then requested, "Could you promise me something decently reasonable?"

"I can try."

"If you make it outta here and I don't - "

"Do not say that!"

"Galadriel, just - stop for a moment and listen to me, please. If you get out of here and I do not, tell Elrond what happened. Tell him Adar found me after the volcano erupted, kept me prisoner, and that I tried." Tears brimmed your waterline, "Tell him I tried to escape, to get back to him... But if I don't make it and you do, please, tell him I love him - more than anything. Tell him I'll wait for him on white shores."

"Tell him yourself."

As promised, when night fell, Adar returned. His second in command, Glüg, approached you with a brandished sword and laid it at your neck with a cruel and twisted expression.

"Have you made your decision?" Adar questioned, Galadriel looking between him and the threat to your life. "Choose wisely, or I'll let my children bleed her; right here, right now. Tell me what I've asked."

"Don't tell him shit, Galadriel!" You barked in a last ditch effort, earning a balled-up-armored fist to rock your jaw. You spit a glob of blood to the side, snarling at Glüg, "You hit like like a bitch." He spit on you.

With a huff, Galadriel exposed, "Yes, Halbrand is Sauron. He's in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow Him to dominate my kind... And yours."

"Every kind in Middle-earth," Adar corrected.

Quickly, Galadriel rushed, "But He will not attempt escape until His task is complete. And that gives us a momentary advantage."

"'Us'?" The Father repeated.

"Unlock me."

"Galadriel! Think for a second!" You snapped, but Glüg pressed his blade deeper into your throat. You seethed, frustrated and angry tears turning suffocating. Adar approached your friend, eyes trained on her, causing the Elleth to look away in discomfort as Adar undid the iron cuff on Galadriel's wrist.

"As we speak, Y/N's husband, Elrond, hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves..." She boldly looked at Adar, you struggling against the blade at the sound of Elrond's name, "And Nenya, my Ring."

"Galadriel! Stop, don't say another word! Silence yourself!" You begged, whimpering shrilly when blood flowed from Glüg's disgustingly dirty blade.

"I see," Adar turned from the Elf.

You were ignored and Galadriel rose from her seat, following Adar while continuing, "Once he arrives, he will seal off the city, loose Celebrimbor from Sauron's grasp, and then together... Uruk, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return."

"And what then?" Adar questioned.

"Any Ring that have known his touch must be destroyed."

"I meant, what then for the Uruk? Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor? The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all of Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron's designs."

"You speak lies," Galadriel whispered as if in disbelief. "Hoping I will reveal something."

"You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more."

You groaned and tossed your head back into the beam; a harsh thump echoing as Adar charged out of the tent with Galadriel and Glüg on his heels.

"Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel struggled in her restraints, unable to stray far from her seat as two Orcs entered the tent and began unclipping your irons. You didn't fight them, rolling your tired eyes as they began dragging you out on your backside. "NO! NO! Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel sobbed, on her feet, trying to follow.

"Remember your promise," you told her, forcing yourself to find contentment that your friend could be the last friendly image your brain would register.

"No, please! Please! You will not profit from her death! I have told you what your Father wanted, now release her! Her death will not profit you, but instead, will bring about your utter ruin! Please! Y/N!"

The Orcs ignored Galadriel's pleas, dragging you from the tent and amongst the snarling, snapping Orcs. Adar stood before a cart big enough for a single prisoner, smirking, giving his children command in Black Speech to load you inside. He watched, telling you, "Galadriel says your husband is on his way with an army. Surely, the sight of his wife might give Commander Elrond pause. The knowledge that you're alive will bring him to my table."

You were strung up by your arms, spread in exposure, tarps thrown over the cage to effectively cut you off from the rest of the world. You felt the cage rattle as you were lugged through mud. You couldn't identify hardly anything... Until a familiar horn bellowed in the short distance, making your chest tighten. While excited by the prospect of a rescue, you loathed the idea of Elrond running head first into a trap.

Your Elven ears picked up on the sound of thundering horse hooves, knowing your people (kin, too) were charging towards Adar's army; who were swiftly gathering in organized ranks. Your cage came to a halt, and a moment later, you flinched when the front-facing tarp was ripped down and the light above Eregion glared down on you. You were greeted with the sight of your husband surging closer on horseback, time seemingly slowing when your eyes locked and he registered who Adar's prisoner was.

You flinched when an Orc pressed the tip of their blade into your already injured neck, reopening a wound to send a single stream of blood steadily flowing.

"Halt!" Elrond called in Sindarin, the entire procession coming to an almost synchronized halt. He sized up the enemy, but kept letting his eyes glaze over you - disbelief coloring his expression. Elrond's horse stamped in place, Adar stepping forward to speak.

"Welcome, Commander Elrond."

"Y/N!" A voice shouted from the army, Elrond's head snapping over in time to see your siblings - three brothers, two sisters - dismounting their horses.

"Wait, wait!" Elrond barked at them, holding a hand up; your siblings halting themselves.

"Wise," Adar taunted, your irons noisily rattling when you tried to adjust your stance.

In Sindarin, you called to your eldest brother, "Do what needs done, do not spare my life for this foolishness! Take them down! Be done with it! Rid us of their filth!"

"I should think... Commander Elrond would like to hear my proposal first," Adar told you casually.

"I think they should put you and children in the dirt!" You spat, earning several snarls, growls, and hisses from the surrounding Orcs.

Elrond encouraged his horse forward, standing in the sunlight highlighting 'no man's land'. He glared at Adar, but asked you, "Are you hurt?"

"Only my ego," you assured.

His eyes flickered over to Adar, then nodded, "I will hear you first."

"You're wasting your time," you told him in Sindarin.

"On you, it's not a waste," he answered stiffly, almost angrily. "I would have her set free for the duration of our parlay."

"But of course," Adar agreed, being carted away at his Blackened command. Due to the tarps hanging over the other 3 sides of your prison, you lost sight of Elrond; forced to blindly follow instruction and behave.

The Elves were not permitted weapons in the Uruk camp.

Elrond dismounted his horse with Vorohil and your eldest brother, Iallion, who insisted on going to gauge your state, in time to watch the Orcs yank you from the cart and drag you into a tent as if your legs were of no use. It was all he needed to know to understand your treatment the past few months you've been 'missing'. His hand clapped Adar's shoulder before the Father of Orcs could pass him by, snarling, "If I come to learn you've been mistreating my wife, I assure you, there will be consequences."

Adar just chuckled and lead the way into his tent. Several Orcs shoved Elrond's shoulder and forced him, his second-in-command, and your brother to follow.

Inside, Elrond noted the walls lined with Orcs, all surrounding their prisoners of war - you and Commander Galadriel. The blonde Elleths were shackled to the same post, both standing, though, you were leaning into the beam for support as it appeared you could not stand on your own. When you noted their arrival, you perked up slightly, but not enough to wash away the worry he felt.

Elrond was offered a seat, just staring down Adar, who began, "The Ring you carry... Show it to me."

Elrond snarled, "Show me the care you've taken of my wife."

"She is perfectly healthy... As you can see. The Ring, Commander..."

Elrond glared for several long minutes, then answered, "A foolish act if I had brought it here."

"You are a courtier," Adar pointed out. "More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword."

"You've never seen me wield either."

"And yet," Adar's head cocked slightly, "I have faced the Incarnated and won. Beside Sauron, there's none alive... Entitled to those rights."

Iallion demanded in a snarl, "How came you by my sister? You say you won against her - where?"

"Didn't win a fucking thing! The bastards found me; facedown in volcanic soot after the battle with the Númenoreans. I told you to keep charging - you should've kept charging," you answered, earning a swift kick to the back of your knee; making it buckle and ram the post.

"Touch her again and I'll slaughter everyone in here," Elrond threatened.

"You so much as twitch - "

"And one of your children shall kill me? My wife? My men? You think I am not aware of that fact, do you honestly think I wouldn't risk life and limb for my wife? Do not. Touch. Her."

Adar just stared at Elrond, then nodded, "Fair enough. Though, if she speaks again... Cut out her tongue."

Elrond, Iallion, and Vorohil all sat forward when Glüg's blade chimed as it was deployed from the sheath; another couple Orcs shuffling and snarling forward to box you in. Your eyes rolled when the same dagger pressed unforgivingly to the pulse point beneath the hinge of your jaw.

Adar continued, "Sauron is my enemy as much as yours... Give me what I need to defeat Him and let us be rid of Him."

"Is it not you that has done his bidding by laying siege to Eregion?" Elrond countered.

"Eregion has fallen into shadow... It belongs to the Deceiver now, as does every Elf within its walls."

"Not Lord Celebrimbor," your husband tried to refuted, desperate to believe there was still some good left to fight for.

"It was Celebrimbor himself who welcomed Sauron in. You cannot save him... You can...save...them," Adar explained, naturally making Elrond look to you still held at knife point. Galadriel was uncharacteristically silent, chained to the same post, facing one another. "It is an earnest offer... I suggest you take it," punctuated Adar before he rose from his chair. "And leave Sauron to me..."

"Right, 'cause that worked sooo well last time," you scoffed, making every Elven eye widen in surprised shock. "You're the reason He still lives, you're forcing us all to do your bidding and fight against Him!" When an Orc's hand rose in a sudden movement to grip your chin - intending to hold open so Glüg could amputate your tongue - you simply reacted out of panic by erratically whipping your head to the side in time to catch the Orc's hand. His pointer finger landed between your teeth, too slow on the draw; losing the finger to the single, incredible chomp as if a root vegetable.

The Orc screamed in pain, spitting the finger and causing black blood to coat your lips like sadistic make-up.

"Lord Father - "

Adar silenced Glüg with a hand in the air, the injured Orc being escorted from the tent; hissing at you in a way that made you smirk. The Father of Orcs glanced at you, demanding, "Quiet," before slowly moved around the banquet table. He complimented Elrond, "You have the beauty of your foremother, Melian of the Valar. If even a fragment of her wisdom is in your veins... You must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmaneuver you... My forces outfight yours... And you will fall."

"Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black," Elrond stood to meet Adar, "with the blood of your kin."

You smirked slightly, always having faith Elrond would choose responsibility over emotion - something Galadriel was increasingly struggling with and unable to master. Glüg lowered his blade when he heard Elrond's threat - thinking this war was meant to played with strategy, not overwhelming numbers that would discard Orcish life without thought or consideration.

Adar assured, "My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely... Adar?" Elrond questioned, using the Uruk's name as if an insult. "Are they?" He asked the room, letting his eyes bore into those of few Orcs to truly drive his words and plant seeds of doubt.

Adar didn't respond, pausing, then demanding, "You may haggle over Galadriel... But it's the Ring for your wife's life. What is it to be?"

Elrond's eyes locked with yours, noting the way your head shook. He slowly stalked around Adar, his hand unsuspectingly unclipping the decorative detail of his cloak's shoulder broach. His teary gaze lifted to lock with yours, portraying his apology and grief, then turning to Adar, "Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours."

Orcs hissed.

"Very well," Adar accepted, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I suppose not all vows are kept sacred... I will meet you there... With your wife's head on a pike."

Elrond held Adar's attention, relenting, "If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell."

Adar's eyes shifted to Glüg's over Elrond's shoulder, the Orc assuring, "He's unarmed."

Interesting, you mused to yourself, he saw Elrond's broach but doesn't report it? Perhaps this war caused tension among their legion - beginning to question the man they followed.

After Adar's nod, Elrond turned to approach the beam in record break time. "My love," he greeted softly, tears evident and ready to spill. You both just stared at each other, unable to accept or process being within proximity to one another after being apart for so long - and only now, reunited to say goodbye. "Forgive me," Elrond whispered in Sindarin.

"Win," you answered in a matching hushed volume. "And if you don't, meet me on white shores."

He nodded, hand lifted to caress your cheek in disbelief; shuddering at the feel of your flesh. "I've missed you past the point of words, my star," he frowned.

"No more than I you."

You snuggled into his hand, stomach lurching when he leaned forward to press his final kiss to your lips. It wasn't passionate, but something chaste for show only; your chained hands reaching to hold his free one as it was all you could reach. The broach's center was pressed to your palm, your tear streaking through grimy cheeks when he pulled back to rest his forehead on yours. "I love you," he swore.

"I love you, too," you whimpered, bottom lip trembling with emotion as Adar looked to the ground. You wished to say your acting skills were that good to be truly deceptive, but in reality, something in your intuition refused to let you believe you'd survive this.

Hating the look of devastation on your otherwise devastatingly beautiful features, Elrond leaned in again before hushing against your lips, "Be ready."

"Be smart."

Elrond nodded, kissed you one last time before pulling back. Almost as if in pain, he turned, unable to handle being so close so improperly; causing him to snap, "Iallion, Vorohil," who flanked his tail upon their exit of the Uruk tent.

You sniffled, leaning on the beam in exhaustion, still playing into the facade you thought Elrond was trying to silently communicate. You weren't defeated yet; the pin kept in your clenched fist to cause indentations from the star-point design.

Outside, Iallion and Vorohil questioned Elrond's confidence, being told a legion of Dwarves had been summoned to march to Eregion's aid; telling his second to guide the army to the battle while he held the city. Before trotting away, Elrond pulled on his helmet and told the two in Sindarin, "And it starts with the rescue of my wife and decimation of this camp."

You used Elrond's pin to pick Galadriel's lock first, insisting she had to flee before anyone caught you. She tried to refuse, something about loyalty or other, but you all but shoved her away from you and snarled for her to leave you.

"Elrond's near," you reminded her, "I'm not going anywhere."

"He's coming for you," she realized.

"Did you have any doubt?"

She chuckled, "I suppose not."

"Get out of here," you cocked your head, indicating she flee out the tent flap. You focused on your own lock as the sounds of invasion echoed around the camp. Praying Galadriel found a way to disguise herself, you struggled to unlock your irons; hearing someone rush into the tent behind you.

"You!"

An Orc was surging up to you in record time, bloody dagger in hand, twisted snarl curling his lip. You dropped the pin on accident, unable to retrieve it; but having enough mind to wait until the Orc was a foot from you, stepping back, extending your chains. The Orc slashed directly into the weakened metal, severing your bond, but the loss of tension made you flop backwards; rolling over your shoulder and onto your feet.

The Orc, ever graceful, hacked wildly at you; forcing you to go on the defense and dodge his attacks around the tent. Three more Orcs filed in; but however you might argue, luck was on your side for your brother, Iallion, came charging in with your sister, Eliriel.

"Y/N!"

You caught the sword your brother tossed, slashing the offending Orc's head from his shoulders as your siblings disposed of the other three enemies with ease.

Realizing the Orcs were vanquished (for now), you turned to your brother and raced into his embrace. He grunted and caught you, petting the back of your head before releasing and letting you hug your sister.

"Do you need medial aid?" Eliriel asked in worry, pushing hair from your shoulders to expose flesh - checking for any injury or bloody blemish.

"No - "

"Can you fight?"

"The day I answer no, you've permission to put me in the ground yourself," you scoffed, nodding at your brother. "You came back?"

"Elrond's leading the charge, they're razing the camp," Iallion explained, "otherwise he would've come himself."

"Where is he?"

"Come, we can find him," he insisted, eyes raking over you. "Sure you're all right?"

"Never better," you chuckled without humor, intent on holding the horrors you've experienced at the hands of your captors close to your chest. "Now, we gonna stand here and talk or go hunt some Orc?"

"YES!"

The Incarnated swarmed together in a protection fashion around you; a sibling shield, if you would, due to your lack of armor. Individually, the Incarnated were almost impossible to defeat, but together, they rivaled armies; exactly as the Valar intended. However, while fearsome in battle, you were still but a few and the Orcs were a grand-many; almost easily overwhelming any Elf they encountered.

Exactly why you were separated from them.

You faced against four different foes, turning as if dancing steps to something intimate; blade flashing in the sunlight, ringing as it clanged against blackened blades and rusted armor. It was easy to cut off your retreat or direction back to your siblings, forcing you back several yards as the Orcs swiftly closed in.

"Y/N! DUCK!" You heard from behind you; not thinking, just dropping like a sack of potatoes.

Horse hooves passed you, looking up in time to defend against another blade as Elrond engaged the others. You were both fairing decently until a moment of distraction - where an Orc swung his axe into Elrond's chest and knocked him from his horse - leaving an opportunity for your attacker.

With a scream, the Orc's blade sliced your chest in a deep slashing, managing to cut into your neck; blood starting to stream into your torn and tattered prison clothes. You were blinded by stinging pain, whimpering as your non-dominant arm curled across your chest as if gauze to lay over the injury; dominant hand occupied by your sword, defending yourself with weak whimpers.

One final hack made your sword arm collapse into the ground and for the Orc to stomp on your wrist to hold you there. You were pinned. The Orc laughed and sadistically reached down to swipe a grimy finger into your wound, causing you to hiss through teeth, only to lift his finger to his mouth and taste your life force. The sight alone made your stomach lurch, a panicked cry escaping your lips.

Elrond heard the enemy's laugh and lifted his head in time to see it lick your blood; noting your cry and position beneath the Orc. His face steeled into something beyond infuriation. The three Orcs that filled the space between you and he were quickly dispatched, Elrond engaging your attacker - letting you scramble backwards into a tree trunk for a front row viewing.

With a wild swing, Elrond swiped at the Orc; who reached up to grab hold of his helmet, which was freed when Elrond rolled from under him. The Orc swung, blade whistling; catching Elrond's cheek and sending him to the dirt, much to your worry. He glared at the enemy, wiping at his injury as the Orc growled, "I'm gonna spill her guts at your feet, Elf!"

Elrond's eyes flickered to you, taking the threat as credible; swiping the sword away, using a second blade to inflict injury before driving his longsword into the Orc's belly - driving him backwards into the basket of a trebuchet (or catapult). When pinned, Elrond drove his dagger into the Orc's sternum; leering over him in Sindarin, "Die."

Elrond yanked both weapons free and turned for the machine's mechanisms; yanking a rope and setting the trebuchet into motion. "No, no, no, no," the Orc begged when he realized what was happening; lifted off his feet only to be flung with the basket of rocks through the air, over the width of the Glanduin, and into the walls of Eregion.

Your husband wasted no time to drop the rope and turn for you; rushing forward and sliding to his knees beside your bleeding form. "Elrond, oh, my stars," you rushed with a bloody grin, reaching for him with your dominate hand as the other still tried to staunch your injury.

"I knew you weren't gone, I knew it," he breathed, taking your face in hand, "I'm so sorry, my love, I'm so sorry. I should've come sooner - "

"You got here right when you were supposed to," you assured, sniffling. "Have you - Have you seen Galadriel? I set her free, have you seen her?"

"Why was she not with you?"

"I sent her away, I wasn't sure how long I'd take to escape," you trembled, "then Iallion and Eliriel got me out."

"Why didn't you run?"

"I did..."

"No, away from the battle - "

"I ran to find you," you whispered, offering a sad smile. "Oh," you breathed, fingertip ghosting over his cut cheek, "that'll scar."

"It's nothing," he shook his head, "but yours isn't - I have to get you away from here - "

"There's no time," you rushed, "so, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

You swallowed thickly, "Clean your blade, put it in the fire."

Elrond's brows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to see the trebuchet set ablaze by his men; the Orcs fleeing from the danger, leaving a rare opening. "I don't... Oh," his eyes widened, nodding and rushing to do as you bid. He cleaned his blade on his cloak as he sprinted to the burning machine; sticking his blade in, then returning to your side. "Can you stand?" He asked.

"If you can get me up," you nodded.

"C'mon, love," Elrond whispered, hands under your arms and hoisting you up the bark with a small grunt. "I've got you - "

"Elrond!"

He didn't think, just gripped the blade of his dagger and flung it in a fluid motion over his shoulder where you were staring. The weapon struck an approaching Orc in the throat; gurgling black blood as he went down, but Elrond didn't even bother to watch. He just returned his attention to you, "C'mere, starlight, I've got you."

"Commander!" A different voice shouted, your siblings rushing to the scene. Iallion, as the eldest, gave command to the others, "Circle - circle up! Get around them!" As the Incarnated surrounded you, Elrond was assisting you towards the flames. "Commander, orders, sir?"

"Stand guard," Elrond replied, easing you to your knees. "All right, my love," he paused, checking the blade, "think it's good?"

You nodded, "It's good. Just, uh... Aim, please."

He huffed, "As if I'd miss." He pulled his sword fully from the flames, the thin metal burning bright red; even sizzling subtly. "Ready?"

"Wait, wait," Eliriel bartered, finding a chunk of wood and placing it in your mouth. She lowered to her knees and hooked her arms around yours; restraining them behind your back in a vice. "Okay... Okay, good - do it, do it now, Elrond!" She begged, seeing blood flow a little more freely now that you weren't trying to plug the wound.

When your husband lowered the blade to your injury, you lost consciousness after screaming blood murder until air depleted from your lungs. The flesh was cauterized as cleanly as Elrond could manage, satisfied when he noted no weeping openings.

"Commander! What orders, Commander!?"

Elrond was torn between his wife and his company - but Iallion encouraged, "Go, brother. We'll get her somewhere safe."

With a scoff, Elrond shook his head and carefully pulled the wood from your mouth; gathering you off your sister and into his chest. "Where's safe anymore?" Elrond asked rhetorically in Sindarin, standing with you in his arms.

The camp was in complete disarray, Adar realizing the Elven Calvary had destroyed nearly everything in their path, almost to a barbaric extent. He would've questioned the displayed Elven bravery, but his mind knew better and reminded him he threatened Commander Elrond's wife... No wonder the camp was stamped into the ground.

The sun sank, darkness spread, and Adar listened to report after report, all confirming the Elves were fairing better than expected. Many Uruk lost their lives, more were injured, and the Orcs were encountering outmaneuvers no matter where they attacked.

Adar returned to the tent he left you and Galadriel in... Finding empty irons, no prisoners, and several of his children - dead. There was no confirmation as to who the wounds were from, but considering the swift yet strategically fatal injuries, he assumed the Incarnated had come to your rescue. Death was only graceful when dealt by their hands.

"Perhaps, Lord Father," Glüg reported, "we should sound the retreat. The Commander Elrond is formidable, angry over his wife's injuries..."

"No," Adar refused.

"He slaughtered half the camp to find her!"

"We do not retreat," Adar growled, making his son shy back a step. "Send him in..."

"He will kill our own kind!"

"Send. Him. In. Commander Elrond is on the battlefield, his wife smuggled away - "

"His wife is on the field, Lord Father! Khor saw her," Glüg gestured at his brother, who nodded vigorously at Adar.

"All the more reason... Send him in."

After your wound was cauterized, Elrond managed to find a horse and rush you a safe distance into the woods with Eliriel to guard you. Upon awakening, you were stiff with pain, but infuriated by the obvious delay in consciousness; rolling to your feet and testing the bounds of the near-fatal, scabbing wound.

"You can't go," Eliriel insisted, watching you stretch, "you'll tear open - "

"Adar kept me alive just enough for this moment, I have business to settle with him. I've been on the sidelines too long, sister," you snapped, "and injured or not, I will not leave Eregion to the darkness. There's still a chance - our people still fight. Will you join us? Or shall you turn tail, as our uncle did? Demote yourself?"

Your uncle, another Incarnated, had been a member of the original alliance of Elves against Sauron; one of the first to leave Valinor on a noble quest to Middle-earth. He was one of the reasons your kin had been blessed, but he's also the reason you know what happens if Incarnated refuse their Holy Calling... Facing Morgoth's apprentice was traumatizing beyond belief, your uncle leading alongside Galadriel's brother, Finrod, in many abattle. Yet Sauron's craft was vast, weaseling into your uncle's heart and brain to the point of insanity; so much so, that upon your uncle going AWOL, Finrod was slain in response.

Galadriel never blamed you nor other Incarnated; she blamed only Sauron, rationalizing he was who fucked up your uncle's head so much that the Valar took back their gift. A forfeited Incarnated was gazed upon with utter contempt until driven into exile, and even then, they aren't immediately granted immunity nor entrance into Aman, - or the Undying Lands - but instead, must plead for redemption. Needless to say, your uncle gave your kin quiet a public mess to rectify and it was a grave insult to throw such an accusation at an Incarnated.

"Sister?" You prompted.

From the dirt, Eliriel nodded and reached for your hand; allowing you to heave her onto her feet. "You'll need armor - do not argue!" She snapped with a pointed finger when your mouth opened. "Come."

Eliriel lead you through the woods at a mild pace as to not irritate your injury. Using the darkness to your advantage, you snuck around until happening upon a fallen Elleth who was about your size and body type. Swiftly, you took her armor with a prayer in Sindarin, securing it, then latching on her weapons belt.

"Ready?" You asked, seeing Eliriel nod. "Stay close."

"I'm older than you!"

"Then act like it!" You laughed over your shoulder, sprinting from the treeline and directly towards the fray taking place before Eregion's walls. You snatched a full quiver from a dead Elf, not stopping; plucking up an abandoned bow, still surging; then snatching whatever spent torch-arrows you could, doubly determined.

Blood transformed impacted dirt into a marsh; bodies littering the land, a city on fire, and Death permeating the air. Your sword sang with glee at each blow; injury holding strong, giving you fuller permission to move as you needed. When you raced into battle, you were an entirely different breed; purely animalistic, relying on your senses to cause the most damage. All you could process was you needing to kill.

You happened to be in the right place at the right time because just yards ahead of you, several jagged arrows thumped into your comrade, Rían's, body at varying angles. She swayed and dropped to her knees, revealing ahead of her, a small gaggle of Elves - Elrond included. Rían reached for a torch arrow as you noted the barrel of oil by the Grond and quickly connected the dots.

It was as if the Valar arranged it themself: where one Elf fell, an Incarnated steps up to assume responsibility without hesitation nor prompt. Three additional arrows struck Rían, who fell dead, and there you stood; causing your name to fall from your husband's mouth and for you to spring into action. Without hesitation, you ignite your own arrow, notch it, aim, then release before rushing towards Elrond; seven arrows impalied the place you vacated. "What're you doing here!? It's not safe!" Elrond demanded when you lowered to his level behind a barrier of dirt.

Your arrow found it's mark, catching the entire Grond and surrounding Orcs in a violently gnarly explosion. You smirked at your husband, anchoring him by his neck to place a desperate, messy, slippery kiss to his lips. On retraction, there came a loud, wet smooch sound; you nodding and answering, "Winning a war."

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