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aemondapologistfrfr · 1 day ago

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I Just Need You

jace x innocent!f!reader

Summary: You seek comfort from Jacaerys during a storm and he does everything he can to help settle you.

Warnings: 18+ mention of a glass of wine, swearing, masturbation(m), fingering, nipple play, oral(f), face sitting, p in v, loss of virginity, Jacaerys the Generous

Authors Note: first time ever writing for jace - i’ll allow a public crucifixion if i butchered this 🤗 anon request! also nothing specific about reader but she does live with them on dragonstone

Word Count: 3.5k

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It had been storming all day and you had hoped that it would let up before you had to retire to your chambers for the evening. But of course, you had no such luck. Your handmaidens had tried a steaming bath and tea to calm your nerves but to no avail your heart still pounded rapidly with every crash of thunder.

You tried and tried to convince yourself it was just the dragons below but with every strike of lightning you would jump and pull the covers closer. The breeze from the window has been blowing out your fire and the cold has begun to creep in. Slowly your nerves begin to rise again and the shadows cast by the bolts in the sky send shivers down your spine.

After an hour of tossing and turning fitfully on your bed, you push the covers off and rise. The stone floors chill your feet and only make your adrenaline spike. Grabbing the candle almost burnt out from your side table, you step into your slippers and walk over to your chamber doors. You pull open the heavy door and peek out and sigh in relief at the empty hall.

Lightning flashes illuminating the stone walls and send shadows dancing far above your head. You hold tighter to your candle and start in the familiar direction as fast as your feet allow.

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Jace loves the sound of the rain beating against the stone. Sleep has escaped him, not that he cared because it allowed him to have more time to relax and let his mind wander to what has truly been keeping him up. The dress, a generous term, that you wore to dinner was nothing more than a napkin. You had coo’d and preened about how your handmaidens had worked dutifully to make your vision come to life and he wondered if that vision was to be the temptress of this desolate island.

When you reached across the table he was sure your breasts were going to spill out and he cleared his throat, standing to reach the wine for you. When you looked up at him with your sweet smile he felt his trousers begin to tighten as he filled your cup. Gods and the way you squeezed his arm and let your hand linger there sent his head spiraling. Regardless that the touch was innocent or not it still left him wishing your hands were elsewhere. This line of thinking is the exact reason he’s spread out on his bed with his cock in his fist and his eyes screwed shut.

His grip is light and teasing as he envisions you looking at him with a tilted head and a furrowed brow, asking if you’re doing it right. His stomach tightens when he swipes against his tip imagining it’s your lips placing a soft kiss on it. “Fuck, just like that.” the breathy words leave his mouth as he jerks his hips up into his hand. His grip tightens when he pictures you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock. “You’re doing-“ there’s a quick succession of knocks at his door.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grabbing his sheets as the door starts to open. “Give me a mo-

“I’m sorry.” you shut the door behind you and pad over to his bed. Jace groans, shoving a pillow over his cock as you set the candle on his table.

“What’s wrong?” he tries to control his breathing. He looks over the length of you and wishes he didn’t. Your nipples are poking through your flimsy nightdress and the hem barely reaches past your small clothes. “Are you okay?” his eyes make it back up to your face and he looks at the pout gracing your lips.

“The fire went out in my room.” you chew your lip.

“Why didn’t you call your handmaidens?” he doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so clipped but the feel of his cock pressing against his pillow is less than desirable right now.

“I’m cold.” you whine wrapping your arms around you. He swallows knowing you’re not doing it intentionally but you're pushing your breasts out further and he has to look away.

“Have your furs escaped you as well?” he looks out his window at the storm still waging on.

“I’m scared of the storm.” your voice barely a whisper. “Jace please,” you push your bottom lip out and he slowly turns back towards you. “Please.” he sighs and pats the empty space next to him.

“Come on then.” he gasps as you pull the sheets back. “Hold on.” he fists the sheets still covering himself, groaning at the pillow sliding against his cock.

“You always let me under the covers.” you whine pulling on the sheet again.

“Yeah but- I-“ he mentally berates himself at this situation. He sighs, meeting your pleading eyes once more. “I’m not wearing anything. Just go sit on the couch and I’ll find some pants.” he nods at you.

“If you prefer to sleep in the nude I can too.” you offer him a soft smile and start to pull up your nightdress.

“No, no. Wait. That’s not-“ the thin piece of fabric is pooled on the ground before he can finish his sentence. What the fuck is going on? Jace's head spins as he looks at your bare chest and watches you grab for your small clothes next. “Fuck, stop.” he sits up and stops your hand and he groans as the sheet and pillow fall away from him.

“Did I do something wrong?” your face deflates and he wants to jump out his window at the expression.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” he cups your face. “I promise.” he nods. “I’m going to go get a pair of pants and you’re going to put your nightdress back on and we’ll lay down. Okay?” he searches your eyes.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” you blink up at him.

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” he furrows his brows.

“Cause this looks like it hurts.” you start to reach for his cock. “It’s red and looks like it’s crying.” he grabs your wrist before you can grab him and looks at you with wide eyes. He’s rendered speechless as he blinks at you trying to form a sentence. “Does it?” you tilt your head and start to move your other hand towards it which he stops once more.

“It does. A bit but it’s not your fault.” not intentionally anyways. “I don’t..” he shakes his head, still trying to find the words. “Fuck it.” he mutters under his breath. “Get in bed and I’ll go get my extra furs.” he watches a smile start to form on your face as he releases your wrists.

“Thank you.” you pull him into a hug and he freezes. “You’re so warm.” you hold him closer, burying your head in his neck. “Maybe I don’t need furs. I just need you.” your soft words go straight to his cock.

“I’ll be right back.” he starts to pull away.

“No.” you hold him closer and start to crawl onto the bed.

“You’ve abandoned your furs and nightdress for a sheet?” he holds your hips to stop you from sitting in his lap.

“I’ve abandoned them for you, Jacaerys.” your hand’s make their way to his curls. “For your warmth and embrace. You always hold me when it storms. Why is tonight so different?” you try to scoot closer and he groans feeling your chest press against his.

“Cause my cock is out.” you let out a whine at his words.

“If it hurts so bad let me make it feel better.” before he processes your words you have your fingers wrapped around his shaft.

“Gods.” he groans, wrapping his hand around yours.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, pulling back. “Did I hurt you?” you search his face.

“Quite the opposite.” he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“So you want me to touch your cock?” you tilt your head.

“I mean yes but-

“Tell me how.” you wrap your fingers back around him. “I want to help you.” you pump your hand once. Jace's head is soaring trying to figure out if this is real or the best dream he’s ever had. When your thumb brushes against his leaking slit he decides he doesn’t care and stops your hand once more.

“Let’s lay back.” you nod and follow him up to his pillows before curling against his side. You bring your hand back to his cock and his fingers wrap around yours. “Like you were doing before. You can go quick or slow.” his stomach tightens as you both pump him. “You can tighten your grip.” he gets out between his teeth as you follow his instruction.

“What about the part that’s crying?” you look up at him as you swipe your thumb against it.

“Fuck,” his hips jerk up. “You can do that.” he nods.

“Okay. Let go. I want to try on my own.” he removes his hand and you both look down and watch your hand stroke against him. You try different speeds making sure to swipe at his crying tip every once in a while and your head snaps up when a soft sound comes from his lips. “Am I doing it right?” you chew your lip.

“Yes. Gods, yes,” he pants and you watch his stomach flex as you stroke him faster. “Fuck just like that.” he tilts your head up to him. “Can I kiss you?” his hips jerk helplessly up into your hand. The second you nod he’s pressing his lips to yours.

You lean into him more and he brings a hand up to one of your breasts, pulling a gasp from you. “Is this okay?” he mumbles onto your lips and your quick nod has him kneading against you with more fervor. You bring your other hand down to swipe against his tip while you stroke him quickly. Jace pulls back from your mouth gasping as you continue your movements.

“Oh,” you look down as his cock starts to cry more. “Is this-

“Yes this is good. So good, fuck,” he curses lowly as his pleasure washes through him. “Okay, you can slow down.” his voice breaks as you continue with your pace. “Please, I-“ he whimpers and feels his legs start to shake as his pleasure still lands against his stomach. He grabs onto your hands and pries them off of him.

“I’ll get a cloth to clean you up.” you hum and go to sit up.

“No,” Jace shakes his head. “We can just use..” he looks around not wanting you to leave his bed anytime soon.

“Mm, we can use my small clothes.” you nod quickly and scoot back to pull them down. He catches a glimpse of your slit and he feels his cock twitch. “Oh,” you look at your small clothes. “It looks like my cunny is crying too?” you look up at him and take in his parted lips.

“Why would your cunny be crying?” Jace chuckles watching your cheeks flush.

“I don’t know. It felt warm when I was touching you. Now it feels kinda sticky.” he looks down and sees you rubbing your thighs together.

“I can,” he clears his throat. “I can help if you want.” you nod at him with a small smile. “Come lay down.” he helps you lean back against his pillows.

Jace presses his lips to yours softly before licking along your bottom lip. He slowly presses his tongue into your mouth and you gasp holding him closer. As he’s occupying your mouth his fingers roll one of your nipples earning him a soft whimper from you. He brushes his thumb against the hardened peak while you writhe beneath him. His hand travels down your body and he lets one of his fingers ghost up the side of your slit.

“Jacaerys,” you whine, spreading your legs wider for him. He dips his finger into your wetness and slides it up to your slick bud and you jolt looking up at him. “Mm yes,” you gasp, holding on to his arm as he slowly circles around your bud. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples and you whine.

He chuckles as he takes the hardened bud between his teeth and feels more pleasure seep out of you. One of his fingers trails down and slides along your entrance and he groans as he feels it fluttering around nothing. His thumb rubs quickly at your bud as he teases your core all the while his tongue is lashing against your chest.

“Jace, I don’t know, I-” you whimper arching off the bed when he speeds his fingers up. “Something- I, Jacaerys.” you cry as your pleasure slams through you.

“How did that feel?” he kisses back up your chest to your mouth.

“Can you do that again?” you whine into his mouth. “I’ll help you with your cock too. Please, please.” you grab his hardened length once more.

“I can take care of myself.” he chuckles, removing your hand. “We can try something else.” he leans back to search your face.

“Yeah, anything.” you nod, chewing your lip. You watch him lay back on the bed and he starts to pull you over. “What do you want me to do?” you tilt your head looking down at him.

“I want you to sit on my face so I can kiss your cunny.” he chuckles watching your eyes widen.

“Jace.” he chuckles at your scandalized tone.

“If you don’t like it we can do something else.” he rubs his thumb into your hip. His chest swells as you start to straddle his head and he places his hands on your hips leading you down to his waiting mouth. He licks up your center and you shutter above him. “Is that okay?” he looks up at your face.

“Yes.” you pant nodding your head. He repeats the action and listens to your soft whimpers. He pulls your hips down and presses his tongue into your center. “Mm, Jace, I-“ you gasp as your legs start to shake. He slowly starts to rock you against his mouth and broken moans fall from your mouth.

The sounds you're making are going straight to Jaces cock. He takes one of his hands from your hips and brings it down to his leaking cock. His hips jerk into his hand and he groans into you as you slowly start to rock against his face. The whine that comes from you when he encases your bud only spurs him on more. His tongue flicks against you quickly and your body goes taut.

“Jacaerys, I- please, Gods please,” you cry out as your pleasure washes through you.

He continues to lash his tongue faster and your whines and gasps become more high pitched. You’re pleading above him and he tightens his grip on his cock wishing it was your crying cunny. He groans when your legs tighten around his head as your pleasure starts to seep out of you.

“Jace please, I- It’s,” a small scream comes from you and your eyes roll back as your body is pushed over the edge. He pulls back as your pleasure coats his face and his shoots across his stomach. He slides his tongue against your slit once more and your hand tangles in his hair.

“Okay, okay.” he chuckles, rubbing his hands up your back. “You doing okay up there?” his fingers trace down your spine.

“I wanna lay down.” you loosen your fingers in his hair.

“Then come lay down with me.” he starts to lift you off his mouth. “How are you feeling?” you curl against him and he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Good.” you press your lips to his chest. “Tired.” you look up at him and he scoots you up to press his lips to yours. “But I just wanna keep kissing you.” you start to crawl on top of him.

“We should get some sleep.” he chuckles, digging his fingers into your waist.

“We will.” you press your chest against his. “Later.” he groans and wraps his arms around your back. He lets his hand slide down to your ass and squeeze. “Jace,” you gasp, pressing against his cock.

“Fuck.” he digs his fingers into you. “I think we-

“Oh,” you gasp as you rock your hips and feel him slide through your wetness. You press your lips against his and continue your movements as his fingers try to still you. “I like this.” you bury your hands in his hair.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” he kisses down your neck. “We should go to bed.” he mumbles, loosening his grip and letting you rock against him again.

“I want more.” you whine rubbing yourself on his cock. “Jace please,” you softly plead and he lifts your hips up trailing his hand between your thighs.

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” you nod, burying your head in his neck. He circles his finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in.

“Mm,” you whimper and his breathing deepens listening to your soft noises. “Jacaerys,” your voice cracks when his thumb brushes against your bud.

“How does it feel?” he whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. He listens to your small gasps and rubs his other hand on your back. “Tell me.” he coaxes, pumping his finger faster and your legs start to shake.

“Good,” you whine. “More.” you plead and you gasp feeling a second finger pushing at your entrance. “Yes, Jace,” you moan at the stretch of the second finger and push your hips down onto his hand.

“Your cunny feels so good.” he chuckles, starting to move his fingers faster. Your gasps become higher pitched and he smirks hearing your pleasure louder than the storm outside.

“I want your cock.” you lift up from his neck and take in his flushed face. He pushes his fingers faster and watches your eyes close as the most ethereal sound leaves your lips “Please.” your head falls and he feels you pulse around his fingers.

“Are you satisfied now?” he smirks as you collapse against his chest with your cunny still fluttering around his fingers.

“More.” you plead breathlessly, kissing across his chest. “Please.” you whine when his hips jerk up.

“You’re sure?” he rolls your hips into his.

“Yes.” you nod your head. “Please.” you whine letting him lift your hips, he grabs his cock and slides it up your slit. “Ja- mm,” he slowly presses his tip in, groaning at the way your cunny envelops him.

“Are you okay?” he rubs your back and you nod your head. “You feel so good.” he pushes another inch in while listening to your whimpers. You softly press your hips down and whine at the stretch.

“Jacaerys,” you whine and he holds his arm around you tighter as he starts to press into you again as you kiss across his chest. He pushes the rest of the way inside lowly cursing when your walls tighten around him. “Feels so full.” you whisper.

“Let me know when I can move.” his breath catches when you roll your hips. “Gods,” his fingers dig into you. He slowly lifts your hips and slides you back down watching your face twist with pleasure.

“Yes.” you shake in his arms as he starts a slow pace.

He pumps into you listening as more whimpers spill from your mouth as you slide against his chest. He’s trying his hardest to hold off on his pleasure but the feel of you squeezing him and the sounds you make are sending him closer to the edge. You start to push your hips down to meet his and he starts to hammer up into you.

“Jace, I,” you claw into his chest. “I’m, please, Jacaer-“ you let out a small sob as your pleasure rips through you.

“Fuck,” he groans slamming up into once more before he spills inside of you. You’re fully collapsed on top of him as his hips still softly jerk up into you. Small whimpers come from you as he holds you closely and pets your hair. “Are you ready to go to sleep now?” he hums, lifting you off his cock.

You nod your head and he pulls the blankets over you before wrapping his arms around your back, letting you sleep on his chest. He presses his lips against your forehead and rubs your back until he hears your even breathing when sleep takes over.

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masterlist 🔌

noooooo dont let me fall for jace rn

taglist ✍️

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thyras · 2 days ago

Text

→ of new beginnings

PAIRING → halbrand | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 6.4k words

SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi

WARNINGS → 18+ mdni - mind manipulation s*x (bruh i have no idea what the heck to call it), unprotected p in v, masturbation (fem), reminiscing, lots of foreshadowing (LIKE LOTS)

SUMMARY → after the fall of your city and beleriand, you build a friendship with a certain elf by what seems like chance and over the centuries he welcomes you into his counsel. though your fëa grows restless as your wayward husband seems to grow in the shadows.

AUTHORS NOTE → okay so lots of quenya names and sindar names are used. i had to come up with so many that it made my brain hurt cause ya know I did not know if in the lore anyone knew sauron by mairon before the fall of numenor (could not find anything in any of my lore books) reader goes by her sindar name now only people extremely close her like celebrimbor and eärlindë use her birth name. this is where the canon gets very loose y'all ❤️ also I wanna premise that this story is basically a rewrite for my dark!reader fic, so from now on I will be implementing things from the original idea to keep it sort of in that wave length. also we will be slowing down with parts for a while as I am to the point where I had written to, so it may be a day or two until I get the next part up.

PARTS → one // two // three // four // six

Tears traced cold paths down your cheek, falling as silently as the ash drifting through the air. You turned back, stealing one last glance at the city that had stood defiant against time, a place you had watched rise and fall with the ages, now reduced to embers and smoke. Towers that once gleamed like stars in moonlight were skeletal ruins clawing at the sky. The air tasted of sorrow and soot, and your heart clenched as the truth burned within you: the shadows had come, as foretold.

A soft touch on your arm broke your reverie. You turned to see Eärlindë, her features etched with a quiet grief that mirrored your own. Her eyes, the color of an overcast sea, held you with a tenderness you didn’t deserve.

“Come,” she urged, her voice a melody too fragile for this broken world. “We have to keep moving.” Her hand rested on yours, warm and grounding.

You swallowed the storm in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely audible over the crackle of distant flames. “I’m sorry this all happened.” The words hung in the air, incomplete. You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the thought, couldn’t tell her who had truly done this. Who had torn her brother from her arms and led ruin to your gates.

You. It had been you. Blinded by a love as poisonous as it was intoxicating, you hadn’t seen the truth until it was too late.

“This is not your fault,” she said firmly, her words meant to heal. But they did not. They only deepened the wound, the knowledge that it was all your fault—a betrayal born from love.

You glanced back once more at the burning remnants of Laureandor, the jewel of your heart, now a scar on the horizon. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sealed that image away. The ache in your fëa—your very soul—was unbearable, but to keep moving, to survive, you had to let him go. You had to let the love you had for that beast burn with the city he had destroyed.

Ahead, the River Ascar shimmered beneath the moonlight, its current whispering promises of passage and pain. A voice called out, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned to see Eäriel responding to another elf, their voices weaving together in the growing darkness.

“Are you from Gondolin as well?” the stranger asked as your group neared the caravan of elves.

Eäriel shook her head, gesturing to your small, beleaguered group. “We are from Laureandor. Orcs attacked four days ago. We are all that is left.”

The stranger’s face fell, sorrow filling his ancient eyes. “Join us, then. High King Gil-galad has set up refuge across the mountains.”

Eäriel and Ulmoion exchanged somber glances before nodding their thanks. As preparations began to merge your group with theirs, you busied yourself helping the wounded into carts and steadying horses burdened with supplies. The sound of soft weeping and labored breaths filled the night, a grim symphony of survival.

You turned to assist one last figure, only to collide with an elf carrying a crate. The collision sent him staggering, the contents of the crate jingling ominously. He barely caught himself, and your hand shot out to steady him. His eyes were wide, not with anger but with fear, his gaze darting to the crate as though it held something more precious than gold.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured, a faint chuckle slipping out as you noticed the spilled covering revealing bottles of wine. Your laughter faded as something else caught your eye—a glint of metal nestled between the bottles. An ornate hammer. One almost as old as you.

The elf’s voice, barely above a whisper, broke the moment. “Thank you,” he said, pulling the covering back over the crate in a quick, practiced motion. He turned to leave, but your hand shot out, gripping his arm like a vice.

“Did you steal that?” you demanded, your voice a low hiss beneath your hood. His eyes, wary and sharp, flickered over you before settling into an unreadable mask. The hammer in that crate wasn’t just a tool—it was a relic something from a place that shimmered with even greater light.

“Why on earth would I steal something that is rightfully mine?” His voice was low and sharp, like a blade drawn across stone. His storm-grey eyes, piercing and unrelenting, flicked down to the chain around your neck. They lingered there, taking in the fiery red jewel resting against the fabric of your gown, its light dim but unmistakable.

Surprise caught your breath. Instinctively, you clutched the jewel, the warmth of its magic pulsing faintly against your palm, and tucked it hastily beneath the folds of your dress. The movement was quick, but his gaze didn’t miss a thing.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his brow arched in a look of mock curiosity. “Perhaps,” he mused, his tone cool and measured, “it is you I should be accusing of theft?”

His face was still gentle, but there was a slight tension in his jaw that told you he was not going to take anything but the truth.

“Care to explain how such a treasure came into your possession?” he added. You swallowed hard, your throat tight, and fought to form a careful, elusive answer to his pointed question.

“I… inherited it,” you managed, the words thin and brittle.

The elf shook his head, stepping closer, his boots silent on the soft earth but his presence heavy and unyielding.

“I can recognize the work of my lineage,” he said, his voice steady yet laced with frustration. “And that jewel… it bears the unmistakable craft of my grandfather’s hands. Its design is not one to be mistaken.” His stormy grey eyes held yours, their depths now simmering with annoyance at your evasion. “So I will ask again, my lady—where did you acquire that jewel?”

You hesitated, each second feeling like an eternity under his piercing gaze. At last, you dropped your eyes, your voice lowering to a solemn whisper.

“It was a gift,” you admitted, “one that I bestowed upon my late husband.”

His expression shifted at once. The hardness in his eyes melted, replaced by a shadow of sorrow. The lines of his face softened, and he seemed to draw back just slightly, as though your words carried a weight even he could not bear to challenge.

“He returned it to me for safekeeping,” you continued, the words growing heavier as they fell. “But I shall never see him again.”

The silence that followed was profound, the grief in your voice settling between you like an invisible barrier neither dared to cross. He reached out, his hand brushing your shoulder with a softness that spoke of understanding, a gesture of condolence that stirred something deep within you.

“Please forgive me, my lady,” he said, his voice quiet and genuine.

You waved him off with a gentle smile, a mask of composure hiding the turmoil within. “I should not have accused you in the slightest, my lord. Forgive me—it is not every day one meets a member of the house that crafted the Silmarils.”

His nod was slow, his gaze weighted by a sorrow that seemed to rise from some hidden depth within him. For a moment, it lingered, almost pulling you into it, but then it faded, replaced by a measured calm.

“What was your husband’s name?” he asked, the question as delicate as the night breeze.

Panic flickered in your chest, though you did not let it touch your expression. You could not tell him the truth, could not reveal the name that would betray so much. Mairon’s identity was a closely guarded secret to you as it should be with who he was, but this elf’s knowledge and intentions remained a mystery.

“Among my kin, he was known as Mornatano,” you said smoothly. “But he held others, names he rarely spoke of.”

His brow arched, intrigue flickering across his face. “Dark Smith?” he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue with a hint of curiosity. “An unusual name for one who was gifted an honor of such noble origins.”

You shrugged lightly, maintaining the guise you had carefully woven. “We were both Moriquendi, my lord. As is my lady Eäriel, whom I serve as ward. She and I hail from the Nandor who chose to remain behind, though my husband’s origins were a mystery even to me. He never spoke of his kin.”

The elf studied you for a long moment, his grey eyes unreadable, as though weighing your words and searching for truths beneath them. You held his gaze, steady and composed, even as your heart raced. If he doubted you, he did not show it, though the silence between you hummed with unspoken tension.

“I am Celebrimbor,” he finally said, his voice steady, carrying a quiet pride. With a slight bow, he added, “Son of Curufin, and of the House of Fëanor.”

You inclined your head in return, the ghost of a smile gracing your lips. “Tintilmë of Laureandor,” you replied, your voice smooth, though you felt a flicker of apprehension when his expression shifted.

His eyes widened with recognition. “Wife of the Golden Realm smith, am I correct?”

You nodded, keeping your smile gentle, though a ripple of fear coursed through you. “Indeed,” you confirmed, the words light on your tongue despite the weight in your chest.

“Please,” he pressed, his tone eager yet polite, “you must tell me more. I never had the chance to travel south and witness his work, but I’ve heard tales—wonders that bordered on legend.”

A soft giggle escaped you, the sound as involuntary as the warmth that rose in your cheeks. Mairon had always had that effect on people, enchanting even those who only knew him by reputation. If they only knew the truth—if they knew the things you knew about him—the stories would be very different indeed.

Celebrimbor’s hand found your arm, a gesture of camaraderie, and together you rejoined the caravan, falling into step with the others. As the journey continued, you spoke of your husband’s creations, weaving stories of brilliance and artistry. You described the works of his hands with care, each word imbued with the love you still felt for him, though tempered by the sorrow that lingered in your heart.

Unbeknownst to either of you, this moment of shared admiration would one day ripple through the tapestry of your lives, binding you and Celebrimbor in ways neither could yet foresee.

Unknowing to the both that this would one day benefit the one they called Sauron, and his grand design.

“I wish to seek pardon for my sins,” Sauron declared as he approached Eönwë, his footsteps slow yet deliberate. The remnants of Beleriand stretched out behind them, a haunting reminder of the ruin left in the wake of war. He stopped a short distance from where Eönwë stood, the wind tugging at his dark cloak. “I wish to repent.”

Eönwë regarded him carefully, his bright gaze steady and unyielding. “I cannot give you what you seek,” he said, his voice quiet yet firm. He took a measured breath, trying to temper his suspicion. Sauron was not easily trusted, his reputation a shadow that stretched far and wide. Yet as Eönwë studied him, he saw something he had not expected—the glimmer of true anguish in the Maiar’s eyes.

This was not the fear of the Valar’s judgment. It was something deeper, something ancient and raw, woven tightly into the very fabric of his being. Eönwë felt a pang of reluctant empathy but dared not let it cloud his judgment. Still, curiosity gnawed at him, and against his better judgment, he asked, “Why do you truly seek pardon?”

Sauron’s brow furrowed, confusion flashing across his face. His hesitance was palpable, the normally unshakable being caught off guard. He hesitated, his shoulders stiffening under the weight of the question.

“If I am to bring your request to Manwë himself,” Eönwë continued, his tone softening slightly but remaining firm, “I must know the truth.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Sauron’s jaw tightened, his composure faltering as his gaze dropped to the ground. Embarrassment flickered across his face—an almost mortal expression, startling in its sincerity. The feelings he harbored for you weighed heavily on him, a vulnerability he rarely allowed to surface.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and resolute. “I made a promise,” he admitted, his words heavy with emotion. “To someone who deserves a world far greater than the one I have wrought. A world I swore to give them, to share with them for all eternity.” His hand clenched at his side as he spoke, as though trying to steady himself against the gravity of his own vow. “I promised to break the curse Morgoth placed upon them. To heal what I have shattered.”

His eyes lifted then, meeting Eönwë’s once more. There was no malice there, no hint of the deceiver he had been. Instead, there was pain—a raw, unguarded pain that pierced through the façade he had carried for so long.

“But to do so,” he continued, his voice almost breaking, “I must first seek forgiveness. I cannot undo what I have done without the aid of the Valar. And for that… I must repent.”

Eönwë studied him in silence, the tension between them stretching like a taut string. He saw the conflict in Sauron’s fëa, the genuine longing for redemption tangled with the shadows of his past. Slowly, Eönwë nodded, though his expression remained measured.

“I will bring your request to Manwë,” he said at last. “But know this—redemption is not easily won, even for those who seek it with pure intent.”

Sauron bowed his head, accepting the weight of those words. He had made his vow, and he would see it fulfilled, no matter the cost. For you, his light, he would endure anything. Even the fires of repentance.

When Eönwë returned to deliver Manwë’s verdict, the tension in the air was palpable. Sauron stood tall, his form a dark and imposing silhouette against the fading remnants of Beleriand. But as Eönwë spoke, his voice calm yet resolute, the anger and fear simmering within Sauron rose to the surface, raw and unrestrained.

Eönwë’s gaze flickered with dismay as he finished relaying the conditions. “If you truly seek repentance,” he began again, his tone unwavering despite the fury radiating from the other Maia, “you must return to Valinor. There, you will be stripped of your power for a time and bound to your fair form. You will never again leave the Blessed Realm.”

Sauron’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, but Eönwë pressed on, though the weight of what he had to say grew heavier with each word. “True repentance,” he continued, “requires sacrifice. You must relinquish what you hold most dear to prove your loyalty and virtue. Only then will Manwë lift the curse and free them from the shadow that stains their fëa.”

Sauron’s breath hitched, and his expression twisted with rage and despair. The thought of you—the light of his existence—being free of Morgoth’s curse should have been a source of hope, but the price demanded of him turned that hope to agony. To leave you behind, to know he would never again see the one being who had brought him peace in the chaos of his existence, was an unbearable torment.

Eönwë could see the conflict raging within him—the anguish and resistance. “This is the only way,” Eönwë added softly, his voice touched with a hint of sorrow. “Redemption is not given lightly, nor is it won without cost.”

Sauron turned away sharply, his shadowy cloak swirling around him, as if to shield himself from the weight of the decree. His mind raced, his heart torn between the love that had driven him to seek forgiveness and the sacrifice that love now demanded. How could he leave you behind? How could he give you freedom at the cost of his own soul’s greatest tether?

But there was no other choice. Manwë’s judgment was final, and if Sauron wished to fulfill his vow—to free you from the darkness that lingered within you—he would have to relinquish you forever. True repentance demanded nothing less.

That was not how it happened, though.

For all the cowardice he carried in his heart, for all the intoxicating taste of power he had once gained, Sauron could not accept the verdict. He convinced himself that he could do better, that he could stay in Middle-earth and use the brilliance of his craft to heal you and the world itself. Not through the will of Manwë, but through his own hands, his own cunning. Only then, he thought, could he feel true repentance—if it was he, your beloved, who granted you salvation as he had vowed so long ago.

And in that moment of defiance, he turned his back on the light once more.

The shadows welcomed him with open arms as he descended into darkness, his heart hardening against the call of redemption. He began to plan, his mind racing with schemes and designs. He would forge anew, build an army of unparalleled might, and reshape the world until it bent to his will. One day, he would find you again, and when that day came, he would hold the power to rid you of the curse that clung to your fëa.

No Valar would dictate his actions, no decree from on high would chart his course. He was no longer Mairon, the Maia who once walked in the light.

He was the Dark Lord now, and the Dark Lord bowed to no one.

You step into the small library, the scent of aged parchment and cedarwood enveloping you as your skirts billow softly behind. Light streams through the arched windows, casting golden patterns on the floor. Across the room, Elrond Peredhel rises from his seat, his warm smile lighting up the space as he strides toward you.

“My Lord Celebrimbor did not notify me you were arriving,” You say, Elrond’s hands gently clasping yours in greeting. “It is so good to see you.”

His expression is filled with genuine delight, and when he reaches up to touch your cheek, the gesture is imbued with a familial affection that eases the tension in your chest.

“It warms my heart to see you well,” he murmurs, his voice as soothing as a lullaby. For a moment, the two of you stand in silence, the years of friendship filling the space between you. Then, with an unspoken understanding, he releases your hands, and the two of you begin walking side by side toward Celebrimbor’s private study.

“Lady Eärlindë sends her regards,” Elrond says, his tone tinged with amusement. “She is most insistent, though,” he continues, glancing at you with playful mischief, “that you come to Lindon in a year’s time to celebrate her betrothal.”

“My dear Elrond,” you reply, meeting his gaze with a smile just as teasing. “You know well that Gil-galad and I are renowned for never seeing eye to eye.”

Elrond chuckles at this, his laugh a quiet, melodic sound that fills the library with warmth. “You and Galadriel share in that sentiment,” he quips, his eyes glinting with humor.

As the two of you make your way through the quiet halls, the air between you is light, the weight of past burdens momentarily lifted. Here, amidst the tranquility of the library and the company of an old friend, you find a fleeting but much-needed sense of peace.

Once you arrived at Lord Celebrimbor’s study, the elven smith stood near the side of the room, engrossed in a parchment held lightly in his hands. His head lifted at the sound of your entrance, and a subtle smile touched his lips, though his expression remained thoughtful. Elrond moved toward the centerpiece of the room—a display holding Fëanor’s hammer. His hand hovered over it, as if the weight of its history reverberated even through the air around it. You took a seat on one of the chairs near the edge of the room, watching the two elves, your mind already awash in memory and emotion.

“Fëanor’s hammer,” Elrond mused, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “The tool that wrought the Silmarils. The jewels that contained the very light of Valinor.” His gaze shifted briefly to Celebrimbor before returning to the hammer. “Strange, isn’t it? How one object could be responsible for creating such beauty—and so much pain.”

You met Elrond’s solemn gaze, your own face shadowed with sorrow. The pain was always near, a fresh wound that never fully healed—the burning of your city, the shattering of your illusions, and the searing truth of your husband’s identity. You breathed deeply, steadying yourself against the ache.

“True creation requires sacrifice,” you said softly, your voice carrying a wistful weight. You paused, allowing the bittersweet memory of your husband’s words to settle. “Something my late husband often told me,” you added, a fondness creeping into your tone even as Celebrimbor’s gaze softened with shared sorrow.

The smith stepped closer and rested a hand on your shoulder, the warmth of the gesture offering an unspoken understanding of the grief you carried. Your hand instinctively moved to the chain beneath your gown, its familiar weight a small comfort. Though it had been centuries since you last opened your mind to him, whispers of his fate persisted—rumors that he had disappeared into shadow after Morgoth’s fall. Yet deep in your fëa, you felt a stirring certainty that those whispers were untrue, that somewhere, he still lingered.

“They say Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful,” Celebrimbor began, his voice contemplative, “that after he stole them, he spent weeks gazing into their depths, unable to do anything else.” His hand squeezed your shoulder briefly before he moved to the hammer, lifting it gently in his hands. “It was only when one of his tears fell upon them, and he saw his reflection twisted by his evil,”

You smiled faintly, a memory of long ago surfacing—a time when you had accused Celebrimbor of stealing the very hammer he now held. A soft laugh escaped you, the moment so distant it felt almost like a dream.

You were a tome of your husband’s work, never truly forgetting how a great smith of Aulë himself crafted marvels and forged minds as well as hearts to his work. The secrets you carried, the deeper truths of your husband’s legacy, remained locked within you, known only to you and him. Yet the wisdom you shared with Celebrimbor had undoubtedly shaped his work, even if the deepest truths were withheld.

“That the reverie was broken,” Celebrimbor finished his thought. “From, that moment, he looked upon the light no more.” He sighed, envy and awe mingling in his tone. “Fëanor’s work nearly turned the heart of the great foe himself,” he marveled, a short, incredulous laugh escaping him. “What has mine ever accomplished?”

You stood and approached him, your voice gentle. “It has turned our hearts, my lord.”

Celebrimbor glanced at you, his expression questioning, but Elrond nodded in agreement, his voice steady as he added, “It has turned many an elf’s heart.”

The smith’s gaze shifted between the two of you, uncertainty softening his posture. “My work will never compare to your husband’s,” he said, almost reluctantly. “For he was revered as one as great as Aulë himself, even surpassing Fëanor in his craft.”

Elrond turned to you, his brow furrowed in surprise. “You never told me your husband was a smith.”

You shrugged lightly, offering a pleasant smile. “There is a great deal I have not told you. But that is neither here nor there.”

Celebrimbor interjected, his voice carrying an almost teasing reverence. “My lady, Thilwen, is quite the expert on her husband’s craft.” The Sindarin name, though still strange to you, had grown familiar in this land. It was a shield of obscurity, one that kept the curious at bay. “She remains a great help to my work, even now as we aspire to do far more than both Fëanor and Morion.”

A shiver slid down your spine at the mention of the name, so close to the truth it was almost too much to bear. You swallowed hard, trying to mask the unease that briefly flickered across your face. If either elf noticed, they gave no indication.

“My lady?” Celebrimbor prompted, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You crossed the room to the drawing table, your fingers brushing against the neatly arranged parchments. “An age ago, our kind brought war to these shores,” you said softly. “Now, we wish to fill them with beauty.”

Celebrimbor joined you, his presence steady at your side, as you reached for a few pieces of parchment and began to unfurl the plans for the new forge he wished to create. Together, you sought to transform pain into beauty, forging a new legacy for the ages.

As if it could somehow soothe the guilt that gnawed at your heart, the weight of everything you had brought to ruin through your husband’s deeds lingered, a shadow that never fully lifted. Not a day passed when you did not think of those centuries, the countless moments spent in the light of him. Twined in his arms, the world seemed to disappear, and in those fleeting instants, you were bound not just by love but by the very melody of your fëar—two threads woven together by the Song of Ilúvatar itself.

You had been his anchor, the one who tamed the tempest within him, the breaker of the Shadow that clawed at his heart. But when the curse of his master fell upon you, the mark of Morgoth’s malice staining your existence, he faltered. In his desperation to shield you from it, the man he had become unraveled, retreating from the light you had brought into his life. He turned away from the path of redemption, the path he had painstakingly carved, only to fall once more into the abyss of his former self.

Morgoth had known—he had always known—what could unmake him. It wasn’t power or fear or promises of dominion that could shatter his resolve.

It was you.

You, his single weakness. You, his enduring light, the only thing that could pierce the armor of his resolve.

And so, when the curse reached for you, when it threatened the existence of the one thing he could not bear to lose, he surrendered. He fought with all the fire of his being, but it was not enough. The desperation to save you, to undo the harm wrought by Morgoth’s will, drove him to forsake the light entirely. He gave himself to the darkness without hesitation, sacrificing even his fëa, the essence of who he was, if it meant sparing you from the pain and ruin his master had promised.

In his love, he had lost himself. And though you carried his light still, it was buried beneath the weight of his shadow.

As you readied yourself for bed, the gentle strokes of your brush through your hair carried your thoughts back to a time long past. A faint smile curved your lips as an old memory surfaced, warm and bittersweet. It was not uncommon for your mind to drift this way, for elves never truly forgot, even when the memories brought pain. Your fingers lingered at the ends of your hair, and for the first time in centuries, you felt the faint, magnetic pull of the chain and ring calling to you from their place in the ornate jewelry box before you.

The pull was subtle yet undeniable, a whisper tugging at the edges of your mind. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you reached out and opened the lid. There they lay, nestled on rich velvet, their beauty undiminished by time. The silver chain glinted faintly, its luminous blue jewel as vibrant as the rolling waves of the Bay of Balar, alive with an inner light that seemed almost otherworldly. Beside it rested the ring, its band shining with a brilliance reminiscent of the Great Trees themselves, its creation born of love and the yearning of a soul that had once known no limits.

Your breath hitched as you gazed upon them, your fingers twitching as if to reach for them. But you did not. Instead, you closed your eyes, the ache in your chest swelling. You had closed the door to those memories long ago, sealed it tightly against the pain. It was too much to bear, too dangerous to relive. These trinkets, once symbols of unshakable love and devotion, had become harbingers of anguish.

For it was not just your heart they affected, but your mark. That cursed scar, the remnant of Morgoth’s malice, a stain you could not cleanse. Whenever you dared to wear the jewel or the ring, the dark tendrils of the scar would stretch further, twisting and writhing, their shadowed reach dimming the light within you. The shadows of your chambers would stir, the stillness broken by whispers that chilled you to your core. Sweet nothings, they would murmur, tender and cruel in equal measure, taunting you to follow their call into the Void.

You pulled your hand back sharply, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The memories, the scars, the love—it all felt too much. Closing the lid with trembling fingers, you pushed the box away and turned from it, your heart heavy with the burden of a past that refused to be forgotten.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as your fingers brushed over the chain resting around your neck. Though it had once belonged to him and had adorned him for centuries, it now felt as though a fragment of his very essence was captured within the fiery red jewel. The light of his being seemed to pulse faintly there, a protective presence that wrapped itself around you, shielding your peace. Or perhaps it was the trinket’s origins—crafted from the purest ores and the most radiant jewels of Valinor—that imbued it with such a profound and unyielding power.

Your gaze lifted to the mirror before you, and you studied your reflection. Despite the weight of the Ages you had endured, your delicate beauty remained untouched, as vibrant and eternal as the first dawn of Arda. The glow of your skin, the timeless grace in your features, and the quiet strength in your eyes spoke not of weariness but of an existence that, though burdened by pain, endured with unbroken resolve.

A smile graced your lips, soft and wistful, and you were certain it was that same smile that had first captivated him. But it was not merely your beauty that had ensnared him—it was your fëa, radiant and unyielding, that had undone him. It was your essence that had drawn him from the abyss, pulling him so far from the darkness that he had nearly returned to the being he once was, before shadow had ever tainted him.

In your presence, his heart had swelled with a purity and joy so profound that it seemed boundless, uncontainable. It was a joy that eclipsed even the echoes of his master’s will, a light that had reminded him of all he might have been, and all he could still strive to become.

But Morgoth envied his serveant so that Eru had gifted him such a beautiful being to share his existance with, or he was so disgusted by Mairon’s enchantment with you, a being of orgins he wished to mock. And in that envy or digust he had taken Mairon and turned him back to the very being Mairon had fought so hard to extingush inside of him.

You rose from your seat, slipping off your robe and carefully extinguishing each candle, one by one, until the room was cloaked in soft shadows. Crawling into the embrace of your warm sheets, you settled against the familiar softness, though your heart ached for what was no longer there. Your head turned, your eyes falling to the untouched pillow beside you.

Fingers brushed lightly across its surface, tracing invisible shapes into the pristine fabric as if by some miracle, you might conjure the presence you longed for. You could almost see him there, the glint of emerald eyes gazing back at you, and the wild, gingery strands that always seemed to catch the light. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you imagined your hand ghosting through his hair, teasingly brushing against the delicate curve of his pointed ear before he would pull you close, his arms encircling you in an unbreakable hold.

A happier time, you mused, your heart heavy with longing. Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the ache, wishing for just one more moment in that long-lost warmth.

In your dreams was where you found him most. Though not as strongly as you once did. He would often invade your dreams to spend delicate but passionate moments with you in the days after he left. His fingers ghosted over every inch of your soft skin, bringing up the fire that only he could bring up inside you.

As you felt the wet ache fill you on this night, something was different. The shadows seemed to dance around the room more than they usually did. The usual pain you felt with them was no longer there, only the ghost of a touch that you had never truly forgotten.

“Mairon…” you whimpered in your half-dreaming state. The ghostly shadow touches morphed and molded into the warm caress of his perfect hands.

“My sweet Mori,” his voice whispered into your ear, the nickname sending waves of relinquished pleasure through your entire being. It had been an achingly long time since his lips had graced your presence with that name. “My divine Moriquendi,” his shadowy lips ghosted over your ear as you now felt the weight of his warmth encasing you. His teeth grazed against the shell of your ear as you whimpered against the touch.

“Please,” you whimpered as his shadows nestled into the moon of your thighs, right where he was made to be. Your fingers moved to push up your gown to reveal the slick opening before moving to run your fingers down to your needy core, your fingers tracing through the arousal pooling there. His ghostly lips traveled down the flesh of your neck to your clavicle as those hands ghosted over your breasts, drawing a sharp breath from your lips.

“Be a good and faithful wife. Show me how much you have missed me, divine,” You did as he asked, and like so many times before, you slipped your fingers into your needy cunt. You imagined him seated deeply inside of you, pushing at the door to your womb in a way he only could.

His touch grew heavier as he seemed to caress over the jewel and chain he once wore. You reached and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, a blissful smile touching your lips as you looked into those emerald eyes of the dreamlike version of your husband. His throat worked as he looked upon your face. “There is nothing I would not do for you.” You whisper, reciting the words you had told him when he confronted you about Morgoth’s curse and who he really was.

Those ghostly, pillowy lips met yours with a desperate force you had never felt in him. His fingers wrapped around your neck and squeezed lightly as the feeling of your fingers was replaced with the ghostly feeling of his cock. Thick and hard, veins creating the ridging that perfectly matched your own. Your hips arched into the touch as he began to rut into you like how he had done thousands of times before, though this time it felt completely different.

Moans and whimpers left your lips like the sweetest of christenings over this moment. The pain of his animalistic thrusts caused tears to fall from your cheeks in desperation for him to go harder and tear you apart, only to remake you into his perfect wife once more. His beautiful and divine elven wife, the very being his dark fëa called for.

“So good for me…taking all of me…” His voice panted against your cheeks as his lips ghosted over your tears, kissing them away. “So faithful…so loyal to me,” he said, brushing his nose against yours as you reached up in the dream and cupped his face. Your fëar singing in harmony once more as they had long been quiet for so long that you had almost forgotten what it felt like.

“Mairon—” You trailed off with almost a whimpered plea as your core coiled in need of release. “Don’t leave,” you pleaded. He kissed your lips once more and quickened his pace as his hand snaked down to meet your engorged mound, pulsing with impending release.

“I have you, divine; I will see you through this, I promise.” He vowed, and with that, you came over him in a relief that you had not felt in centuries. Your core pulsed against his ghostly cock until he rutted into you one final time, groaning as he now found his relief. He filled you with his essence once more, and you felt your body react in the same way it always had, arching to take every drop until he coated every part of your womb. Hoping and wishing for that miracle to finally happen. But it never did, and you had grown okay with that.

He took a moment to breathe before rolling his back onto the mattress of your home in that golden place, keeping you astride him so you were coated fully with his mark. You felt the warmth of his touch tracing up your back as you nestled into the crook of his neck. His smokey scent covered you in the dreamscape, pulling you deeper into this place. This moment was one you had wished to have forever.

But as with all the times before, his ghostly touch started slipping away. Though with one parting kiss, he spoke one last time. His fingers ghosted through your hair. “This is not the end, Mori, I will come to you, and we will have our forever, my love,”

And like a whisper carried away by the wind, he faded from the dreamscape, retreating back into the shadows that claimed him. Your heart clenched with an ache so deep it felt as though it might shatter. Your fëa reached out instinctively, searching through the vast emptiness of the Void for his presence, yearning for even the faintest trace of him.

But there was nothing—only coldness and the unyielding weight of the grief that had lived within you for centuries, filling the spaces where his light had once been.

“I’ll be waiting,” you whispered into that endless darkness, your voice trembling yet resolute. You hoped, prayed, that somehow he could hear you across the immeasurable leagues that separated you.

You were patient. You were loyal. And you would wait for him, even if it took an age—or many more.

#sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #the rings of power #trop fic #rings of power fic #sauron #halbrand #mairon x reader #mairon

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somerandomgal19 · 2 years ago

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The story’s going along fine for now, but I’m just saying for a series titled “Leveling up my Husband to the Max”, 30 chapters in, there is still a distinct lack of levelling husband.

#leveling up my husband to the max #she’s like ‘I’m keeping him at arms length #and I’m like ‘girl you are actively trying to push him out of your life’#getting him to address you formally #sleeping separately #telling him to his face you dislike him #not talking to him about HIS OWN HOUSE AFFAIRS #(and I am pissed that she forgot she said that)#(she couldn’t feel like talking to him about house problems)#(and they never resolve that)#everyone in the comments like ‘trauma’s hard gotta earn her trust’ and I get that #but so far he has #listened to her and ditched the battlefront because she simply asked #has told her multiple times that her assumption that he dislikes her are false #stood up for her when he’s around to her getting talked down on #STOOD UP TO HIS FUCKING ASSHOLE MOTHER FOR HER WHILE SHENWAS THERE TO WITNESS IT #even if she doesn’t know his backstory THAT IS A FAIR BIT #IT TOOK TIL 20-ISH CHAPTERS FOR HER TO REALISE THAT MAYBE THE WAR PTSD HE HAD IN THE FIRST LIFE WASN’T SO GREAT #DUDE’S BLUSHING EVERYTIME SHE THROWS HIM A CRUMB OF A COMPLIMENT AND SHE KEEPS THINKING HE’S ACTUALLY SNUBBING HER #HE’S A LITTLE OVERPROTECTIVE YEAH BUT SHE WAS A FORMER WEALTHY LADY AND THE LAND HE GOVERNS SUCKS #Maybe I’m sensitive because poor dude has communication problems thanks to insecurity #and I also have communication problems thanks to insecurity #and to see her interpreting them negatively #MY NIGHTMARE COME TRUE #I FEEL SORRY FOR HIM MAN #THIS SERIES HAS BEEN DOING HIM DIRTY FOR 30 CHAPTERS #AND I AM BEGINNING TO DOUBT THIS PAYOFF

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coffee-and-geto · 5 months ago

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𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍!!

➤ including: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna.

➤ summary: when they found your naughty books and want to reproduce the scenes with you…

➤ warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, sex (p in v), thighs riding, cowgirl, oral (f + m), fingering (f!receiving), semi-public sex, edging, office sex, childhood bedroom sex, reverse cowgirl, backshot, creampie, missionary, degradation (whore), marking (m!), overstimulation, dick drunk, riding, teasing, anal (f! receiving), true form! sukuna, hair pulling, fanart by the queen @/yunonoai.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Satoru furrows his brows and purses his pretty pink lips, deeply focused. “Hmm… Are you sure it’s like this? I think she was in reverse rather than—”

“Toru!”

“What?” He shifts the book that’s hiding his handsome face from your view. Your cheeks are flushed with a warm, yearning desire, your lips swollen from hungry kisses, and your eyes have been tearing up for several minutes because your boyfriend has stopped stimulating you, leaving you craving his touch. He gives you a playful smirk and chuckles. “If you want me, sweetheart, you just have to come and get me.”

“You activated your Infinity!” you whine, trying for the tenth time to reach his pale, soft, bare chest. A barrier that gives you the feeling you’re about to touch him but keeps your fingers from making contact, trapping you in an endless loop where you’ll never touch him.

“That’s your punishment for scolding me for being horny all the time while you’re reading this!” Satoru delights in the desperate look you give him. “And you still dare call me shameless!” He waves the book in front of your nose as you whimper, weakly trying to snatch the book from his hands, but in a feeble, pathetic attempt. But finding that the punishment has lasted long enough, he deactivates his Infinity, and you end up collapsing onto his legs, your breathing ragged, but dying to have him inside you. He bursts out laughing as you climb onto him, though he doesn’t place his hands on your hips like he usually does.

“Toru… Please…” you whisper, moaning softly as you slide his hard, thick cock inside you, your drenched walls greedily swallowing him up.

“Tut-tut.” He shakes his head and lets you adjust to him, leaving you with only the sensation of your pulse throbbing against his delicious length. “You’re gonna fuck yourself stupid on this fat cock of mine, ’kay? Like the good girl that you are.”

A sob escapes your lips as you start to fuck yourself on him, your breasts bouncing slowly and gently under Satoru’s amused, mocking gaze. It’s much more effort than usual, and he doesn’t miss a chance to notice it.

Satoru crosses his arms behind his head on the pillow and laughs heartily. “C’mon baby, ride me like you mean it,” he purrs, your inexperienced thighs gripping the muscles of his hips. “A lot harder when I’m not helping you out, huh?”

Frustrated tears roll down your cheeks, and a pout forms on your lips. You sniffle as you try to bounce on his cock buried far too deep in your tight little cunt — preventing you from going faster.

But maybe he’s had enough too, because his hands grip the flesh of your hips, digging his nails in hard enough to leave definite bruises before bucking his hips into you — causing you to let out a yelp of pleasure as he hits your sweet spot deep inside. “So deep…”

“Deep, huh?” Satoru pulls you into a fast, rough rhythm, his hips slamming into you as you cry out his name, echoing through the room, fucking you in cowgirl just like in your book. “It’ll be like this all night, sweetheart.”

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“S-Sugu… Please…”

“Please what, princess?” Suguru murmurs, his nose rubbing against your soaked panties, his tongue licking your swollen folds through the fabric, savoring your intoxicating scent. The tip of his nose gently presses on your swollen clit, causing your hips to buck against his face.

“I can’t take it anymore, please, I need you…” you moan, your trembling arms hugging a pillow tightly to keep yourself from going crazy.

But Suguru’s hands pin your plush thighs against the mattress, obstructing any attempt you make to struggle. “But the scene was just as slow as I’m doing it, darling,” Suguru whispers, his lips pressed against your wet, clothed slit. “I can feel how close you are if I really eat you out.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest before he slowly slides your underwear down your thighs, finally gaining access to your pussy, now openly exposed to him. He whistles at the sight of your fluids, almost like transparent glue forming a delicate web between your already parted lips and your entrance, which opens and closes around nothing.

“I know, Suguru, but please, I need you to do something or— Ah!” you’re cut off as he captures your bundle of nerves between his lips, sucking shamelessly — the wet, slurping sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. A shiver runs through your body, and you moan uncontrollably as he devours you eagerly — his tongue alternating between licking and sucking your clit, and the tip of his agile, teasing tongue tracing quick circles around your dripping hole.

“Sugu! I’m close… s’close,” you cry out, squirming as gasps leave your lips in sweet sounds that make his dick twitch in his pants.

“Mind if I add a finger?” He glances at your pussy, on the brink of release, lifting his head from between your thighs for just a few seconds. “Or two.”

“No, Sugu— cumming!” you mewl as you immediately cum on his thick fingers, your tight cunt clenching around his gummy walls.

He gasps at the sensation of your tightness and the flow of your fluids trickling down his hand and wrist.

“And what about my cock?”

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Please, darling, anyone could—”

“I know, I know, Ken, just cum for me, will you?” you purr, your tongue swirling around the angry red tip of Kento’s dick, so thick and swollen, threatening to burst and release his seed with every stroke of your fingers or suck from your soft mouth.

Nanami tries to control his breathing, his hands usually occupied by a pen at his desk in his workplace, his perfectly straight nose bent over documents to fill out or sign — but today, he’s a grotesque image of what his employees are used to seeing: cheeks flushed, one hand under his desk, fingers tangled in your hair, and his tie lazily loosened to allow him to breathe.

“Darling, I’m close I can’t—”

“C’mon, baby,” you coo, one of your hands stroking his base while your mouth takes in more of his cock, sucking him properly to make him cum as quickly as possible.

“D-Darling— I—”

You pull his length out of your mouth with a pop, a string of saliva mixed with his precum connecting the tip of his dick to your lips. “You promised to redo the scene, didn’t you? So cum for me, ’kay? It’s perfect if someone catches us because—” But the growl Nanami emits, along with the pulsing of his dick in your fingers wrapped around him, tells you he’s far too close.

You take him back into your mouth, using as much space as he allows, bobbing your head up and down until he sighs your name and spills out in unintelligible words, his balls tightening as he cums in your mouth, painting the inside of your cheeks white — the thick, sticky, warm strands filling you up until your throat has no choice but to swallow everything.

Nanami’s Adam’s apple nervously bobs as he swallows, his eyes lowering to see your disheveled head under his hand, tangled in your hair, and your satisfied expression under his desk.

You gently remove his softened cock from your mouth and kiss the tip. “Thank you, Ken. Another round before your secretary arrives?”

His dick immediately hardens again at your words.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

“Nuh-uh, doll, don’t make a sound, this is an important call,” Toji whispers, a finger pressed against your trembling lips that threaten to give in at any moment. “That’s what you said you wanted, right?” he chuckles, his lips curling into a smirk as he keeps his dick buried deep inside you, while his other hand holds his phone to his ear.

A few rings later, Toji’s boss picks up, and he continues the call while fucking you at a steady, deep, and unapologetic rhythm. His hips slap against yours, pushing your patience to its limits.

After all, you’re the one who started this, right?

“I want to redo that scene,” you had whined.

And now you have it — Toji taking you in missionary, your legs desperately wrapped around his firm hips, his hand sliding from your lips to your throat, gently squeezing around your neck. He slowly reaches that sweet spot inside you, making your back arch, an involuntary whimper escaping your swollen lips.

He gives you a warning look before fucking you dumb without mercy, continuing his conversation with his boss as if he were at a café, his hips pounding into you relentlessly. “Yes, of course, Shui mentioned my next mission, but I wanted more detailed information.” He licks his upper lip before smirking, his emerald eyes never leaving yours, begging for the call to end. He shakes his head and keeps applying gentle pressure to your throat, threatening to make you let out a gasp of pleasure under the delicious roll of his expert hips inside you.

A white ring forms around the base of his thick, veiny cock just before he notices how tight you’re getting, and he has to control his breathing to avoid sounding strange during the call with his superior. But your cunt, obsessed with him, swallows his shaft with ease, making it even harder to remain impassive. To the point that his boss asks if everything’s alright when Toji lets out a low grunt, his top teeth sinking into his lower lip, making the gesture even hotter thanks to the scar that crosses his mouth.

“No, no, boss, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got a little situation,” he murmurs before abruptly hanging up and tossing his phone aside, grabbing you by the hips in a grip you can’t resist. “See what you’re doing t’me? Huh? You wanted it, now take it all the way, doll.” But your cunt clenches around him, pushing him so deep that you cry out his name, writhing on the bed like a kitten — you’re sure he’s fucking your stomach now.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

“Baby— I— Please…” Choso babbles, his pretty blood-red eyes rolling back in their sockets from the overstimulation of his cock buried deep in your wet, tight, gummy walls.

The poor thing has no control over the fast and overwhelming pace of the pleasure you’re giving him — the sound of your skin slapping against his with every drop of your hips in your reverse cowgirl position. The idea to fuck your sensitive boyfriend in his childhood bedroom, the one he once shared with Yuji, could only have come from you.

Who would have thought you’d take advantage of a family dinner to do this? It’s a good thing Yuji is busy playing video games in the guest room with his best friend, Aoi Todo. Their laughter and complaints about losing a match carry through the walls to your room — a fear that Choso might have, the poor, adorable sweetheart who whimpers and whines like the virgin he was not too long ago.

“Babe— Ah! Please, they’re going to hear us…” Choso whines, his voice muffled against a pillow on his bed.

You chuckle, a pleasured grin on your face as you bounce on the dick that swells and throbs deep inside your pussy, hungry for him. “Poor Cho… You promised we’d redo the scene from my book, didn’t you? And it takes place in a childhood bedroom, hmm?” You speed up the pace, the tip of Choso’s cock now hitting your cervix with each slam back in. You bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your sweet sounds. “You feel s’good, baby, doing so good f’me…” you purr, glancing over your shoulder to admire the messy state of your boyfriend; his eyes filled with tears from overstimulation and his mouth open, letting out sounds that make you tighten around his cock. “G’nna give it to me? Huh, baby?”

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” Choso whimpers in a small, submissive voice. “Please, please, please, make me cum, I want to cum in your pussy,” he begs before letting out a small sob.

“Fill me up, Cho, c’mon,” you encourage with a smile, bringing a hand to your sensitive clit, rubbing in firm circles, your ass pressed against his pelvis. “That’s my good boy, give me your cum.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

“Ah! Kuna, please,” you moan, a grimace of pleasure twisting your face as the King of Curses pounds roughly with his hips in your tight holes. His two cocks — one in your pussy and the other in your asshole — abuse you, thrusting as if it’s the last time he’ll ever fuck you.

��Can you obey me for a minute and shut up?” Sukuna growls, the back of his head resting against the wooden door of the pantry where the servants store food for the King of Curses.

Of course — reading one of the books from the estate’s library made you beg your husband to fuck you right in the kitchen downstairs — just like the fucking king or prince in the kitchens of their castle — and who was Sukuna to deny you that? That’s how you ended up here, your head buried between your arms as your husband stuffs you raw and rough in a pantry where apples and carrots taunt you.

The scene might seem comical, but not when you’re terrified of being caught by the servants or the staff — though Sukuna has never really give a fuck about that. The cramped space is as hot as your cunt and asshole, which still manage to take every slam Sukuna delivers inside you — his heavy balls slapping against your clit and your ass. He’s ready to fill you and make you scream if your pleas didn’t hold him back and if the pantry hadn’t turned into a sauna. Instead, he prefers to edge you, not letting you fall over the edge of orgasm.

Sweat sticks to both your bodies, where the slapping of his balls makes enough noise to attract the staff — if you ignore your muffled moans and gasps.

“Kuna! Mmph! M’close! Please, make me cum!” you whimper, clinging to one of his four arms that knead your breasts and pinch your nipples — the other two busy holding your hips already marked with red scratches and blue hickeys, and the last one making circles around your clit.

“Is this how the other princess got stuffed too? Begging like a whore to cum for her charming king?” Sukuna’s chest shakes with a rough laugh, quickening his pace until your vision blurs with dazzling stars and your cunt spasms around one of his dicks, while he follows, shooting his white seed in thick ropes deep inside you until it overflows despite still being inside you and the door moving with him — fucking you through your orgasm.

Footsteps echo in the kitchen and you freeze, along with him.

“Is someone there?” a valet’s voice asks, not far from the pantry.

And Sukuna glares at you — should he kill him or remain silent?

➤ a/n: if anyone knows the @ of the black dividers pls tell me i didn’t save it...

➤ tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison

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velvetcrimsonkisses · 7 months ago

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COCKWARMING W/ JJK MEN

cw: smut

Gojo Satoru

Such a whiny boy. He's sooo confident that he can have you sit on his cock for hours and he won’t budge and even says that you won’t last. But he’s all talk. Once you sit on his pretty cock he’s fucked out. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a thin layer of sweat covering his body and his hips bucking up into you. Pleading to his pretty girlfriend to let him cum because he can’t take it anymore. He needs you.

“Please, please baby, f-fuck.” he whines as he keeps a solid grip on your hips sure to leave his hand prints.

“Wait, toru… not yet baby,” you coo into his ear as you continue to meet his desperate thrusts.

“Can I cum now? Please baby…” his lips attack your neck, pressing sloppy wet kisses into it causing you to throw your head back from the immense pleasure this man knew how to give you just from mere kisses, let alone the fact he was so deep inside you about to burst.

And he does. He fills you so good. Mouth slightly agape, eyes shut close as you feel him twitch inside you.

“Fuck, so good” he smirks at you watching his cum drip down your thighs.

Geto Suguru

His cock is so deliciously thick but you hate (not really) cockwarming this man because of how much of a tease he is. He’s holding you down as you slowly sink down onto him.

“C’mon babe… can your poor pussy take all of it?” his hand comes up to wipe the tear forming on the side of your eye.

“Y-yes, i can” you nod as you finally bottom out on his cock.

He brings you in for a hot kiss, the shift causing you to arch your back. Good thing he’s holding onto you so tight that he won’t let you escape, ever. Both of you carry on making out, tongues swirling around exploring each other's mouths. His hands slide up to your ass to give it a squeeze as your hands tangle in his long raven locks. Finally ending the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both as you try to breathe.

“I’m so fucking deep inside you,” Geto’s hand comes to your lower tummy, pointing out the slight bulge there that his cock is making. A grin appearing on his perfect face.

Wasn’t long after, he was fucking into you. Purple orbs set on watching how you take his cock so well, over and over again.

Nanami Kento

Nanami who lets you cockwarm him when he’s had a long day and he’s just about to be done with work. Having his pretty wife sit down on his cock while he finishes some annoying paperwork, but you just can’t help but start moving your hips up and down on him. Desperate to tease you oh-so handsome husband.

“Don’t be naughty honey,” he utters softly into your ear. His voice like music to your ears. “Gonna give you my cock right now.” He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Can’t wait no more Ken,” you sigh as you begin peppering tender kisses on his neck. “Need you so bad…”

Nanami knows so well he can’t resist his wife when she is so needy for him. He throws his back at the feeling of your kisses, eyes shut tight trying to enjoy all the attention you were giving him. Honestly overwhelming the man to the point, he instinctively wraps his large arms around your waist and pumps his entire length into your cunt at a rapid pace. Not slowing down until you are filled to the brim with his cum.

“This what you wanted honey?” He murmurs coming to kiss your cheek.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji loves cockwarming after he fucks the living soul out of you. Holding you in a mating press as he cums inside you, he wants to make sure it stays inside so he doesn’t pull out. Instead he fucks into you painfully slow after your orgasm, leaving you with no words besides desperate whines only for his ears. Taking pride in leaving you a babbling mess, he watches you with a smirk that only makes his scar that much more attractive and prominent. Green eyes piercing into yours as he takes your hand and presses soft delicate kisses on it because in his words “it helps ease the pain” of his fat cock drilling into you.

“Fuck… so pretty f’me” He grunts as he thrusts into you deep one more time before coming down to lay on your chest.

“You aren’t gonna pull out?” you ask him obviously still trying to catch your breath. Your hand comes up to push his strayed hair out of his face.

“Nah, wanna sleep like this.” he mumbles.

And just like that, he's out cold. But don’t be surprised if you’re woken up in your sleep by him fucking into you once again because he always gets hard around his pretty baby.

Choso Kamo

You needed to explain what cockwarming was to Choso and even after you did, he wasn’t so fond of the idea. He loved being inside you so much that he didn’t believe in himself that he wouldn’t be able to just absolutely destroy your cunt once he slipped in.

And he was right.

“No baby… I can’t,” he whines as you're still trying to take him inside completely.

“Cho… you aren’t even fully inside yet,” you reiterate to him, almost scolding him.

All he can do is shake his head before he turns you over so he's fully onto top of you. A string of curses leaving his lips as he sinks himself all the way into your silky walls. Once Choso is inside you, he’s a lost cause and no one can pull him out until he makes you cum again and again until you’re both satisfied. It was worth a shot you think to yourself before he begins fucking into you at an animalistic pace.

“Never doing that again,” he enunciates with every thrust.

“You didn’t even try Cho,” you manage to say as he presses into you deeper.

“I’ll let you sit on my face later… to make up for it,” you feel him smirking into your neck.

A soft laugh echoes through the room as you nod, accepting his compromise.

Sukuna Ryomen

“You want to do what?” He scoffs as he watches you with a displeased look.

“I want to sit on your cock… for a while” You try not to make contact with the curse.

After explaining what cockwarming was to Sukuna, he was intrigued. Letting you do most of the work since it was your idea. He watches you attentively as you lube and prep yourself for him.

“You gonna keep watching me or are you gonna help?” you give him an almost annoyed look.

“Such a needy brat. Just come sit on it already.” He demands, staring daggers at you.

You do just as he says and Sukuna derives immense joy from seeing you in such pain taking his monstrous cock. Lazily holding you up with one of his four arms and he watches you take him inch by inch, pain and pleasure mixing divinely.

“Why are you crying little thing?” He asks in a worrisome tone but the stupid smirk plastered all over his face says otherwise. “I haven’t even fucking moved, yet.”

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nanaslutt · 1 month ago

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MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

gojo and shoko who get a little too drunk together accidentally and find themself inside a bar bathroom dry humping each other

gojo is grabbing her ass, making her grind against the thigh he shoved between her legs. he hasn’t been drunk since he was in high school, and he forgot how much it amplifies the feeling of touch. he’s not drunk enough where he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he has a buzz in his head… and other places, lowering his inhibitions

“shoko…” he breathlessly moans between thrusts when she grips the outline of his cock through his pants. he has to bite his lip to suppress a whine when she finds the head and squeezes it through his pants.

“so hard from just a little kissing, gojo?” she teases, biting his bottom lip and making him groan.

“you’re being so sexy, it’s not fair.” he practically whines the words, pouting when she starts stroking the length of his cock. the pressure of her small hand feels so fucking good, even through the fabric, he’s unable to stop himself from thrusting into her hand.

“mmm, i like you like this.” her legs shake when she rubs her clothed pussy perfectly against his rough pants. her dress rode up over her ass, and the only thing between them is her thin panties and his pants.

“like what?” gojo asks, grunting when she squeezes his cock before turning around and pressing her ass against his cock. gojo keeps his thigh between hers, wrapping her arm against the soft of her stomach before his greedy hands slide up to find her tits.

“i like these… so big.” gojo rests his forehead against her shoulder and begins dry fucking her ass. shoko moans, pushing herself back against him thrust for thrust.

“like that, you’re not irritating me when you’re drunk. you should do it more often.” she moans. gojo grunts in return, wrapping a hand around her throat as he kisses the side of it, using his hand to keep her in place. his other hand slides inside her shirt to slip under her bra and find her bare tit.

she stifles a whine between her teeth when he pinches and rolls shokos nipple. “they’re so soft. god i knew they would be soft. i think about these a lot.” he whisperers into her neck. the heat of his breath tickles her skin, makes her legs shake with the sensitivity.

he’s so hard against her plush ass, rutting desperately with panted moans and low grunts. his cock is sliding between her ass perfectly, warming him even from inside his pants. pre-cum leaks from the tip of his cock, wetting the inside of his boxers.

“jesus satoru, you’re so big.” shoko moans, her toes curling in her shoes when he shoves his knee further between her legs to stimulate her clit, she humps against him greedily, squeezing her thighs around his.

gojo giggles, “are you talking about my dick? i thought you said it was smallll” shokos head tips back against his shoulder, baring her throat to him more as he peppers kisses and bites along her pale skin.

“kinda hard to think that when i feel you like a snake between my ass.” she jokes between moans, feeling that familiar warmth coil in her stomach.

“you know what else is kinda hard?” gojo whispers in his best seductive voice.

shoko shakes her head and reaches behind her to grab his ass, digging her nails into him. he grunts, hips stuttering while he dry humps her with such vigor the mirror on the wall is starting to shake. she’s practically being fucked against the sink at this point.

“stop” pant “fucking talking, and- make me cum, gojo.”

his hand tightens around her next and shokos mouth opens wider when the lack of oxygen makes her orgasm rush in faster. “shoko… shoko, fuck shoko.” gojo breaths into her neck between kisses. she gasps when he starts bouncing his thigh, adding more pressure to her clit. “cum for me shoko, pretend i’m inside you and cum all over my big cock.”

his words were so corny, but shoko was unable to fight her orgasm as it wracked through her body. gojo wraps both arms around her stomach, burring his head deeper into her neck when his balls release his seed into his boxers. he’s fucking her hard through stuttered thrusts, pretending he’s pushing his cock deep inside her pussy and filling her with his cum.

“fuck.” she gasps. gripping his arms with shaky hands as they fall against the sink together in a pile of messy, sticky, sweaty limbs.

“fuck is right, my boxers are soaked.” gojo breaths heavily.

“god… i mean it by the way. you really should get drunk more often.” she breaths, slowly regaining the feeling in her legs. if he was able to make her cum this hard from a little dry humping, she wondered what he could do with his cock inside her.

“you know we can have sex when im sober.” gojo retorted, looking at her though the mirror while continuing to massage her tits. his other hand joined the party and started treating them like stress toys.

she shook her head. “no, i need you to be at least tipsy before you fuck me. you’re cute like this.”

gojo pouts. “you just want to take advantage of me.”

shoko scoffs and grips his wrist. “you’re the one with your hands on my tits fucking my ass. besides, you had one shot, you big lightweight.”

gojo squinted his eyes at her like he was going to respond, before his forehead dropped onto her shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling her neck as he continued to massage her boobs. “couldn’t think of a clap back. alcohol makes me dumb.”

#idk if anyone on this acc knows how much i ship these two #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko smut #satoshoko #satoshoko smut #satoru x shoko #gojo x shoko #gojo satoru smut #shoko x gojo #gojo satoru #.drabble

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rizzanon · 21 days ago

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03 | EVERYTHING IS AWESOME…

m.list | prev | next

The night was calm, as far as Gotham standards went. Dick leapt across rooftops with practiced ease, the crisp night air cooling the sweat on his brow. Patrol had been fairly routine so far—an attempted mugging here, a couple of carjackers there. But even as he flipped and fought, his mind was elsewhere.

You.

Why was it that for the past few days, he couldn’t seem to catch you for even a moment? Every time he stopped by the manor, Alfred had the same response: Miss (Name) is out at the moment, Master Richard.

Out? Out where?

He’d pressed Alfred for more details the first time, but the butler’s polite smile and vague responses left him with more questions than answers.

He ducked under a clumsy swing from a thug, twisting his attacker’s wrist and disarming him in one fluid motion. Were you avoiding him? The idea gnawed at him, even though he tried to dismiss it. Surely you wouldn’t do that. Not to him. Right?

But the signs were starting to feel undeniable. You answer his texts hours later, and even those were short and simple. Most of his calls went straight to voicemail and when you do pick up, it was to say that you couldn’t talk right now. Whenever he asked anyone in the family about you, they either gave noncommittal answers or shrugged. Even Damian had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped when Dick had broached the topic with him. That, more than anything, felt like a red flag.

Had the two of you not reconciled yet?

What did you two even argue about to get to this point? Damian wouldn’t tell him anything no matter how much he bugged him.

The thought made his chest tighten uncomfortably. Did he do something? Say something? He ran through every interaction he’d had with you in recent memory, trying to pinpoint where things might’ve gone wrong. But nothing came to mind. You’d always seemed fine, maybe a little quieter than usual, but he’d chalked that up to you being tired. Gotham took its toll on everyone eventually.

Still, the nagging doubt lingered. The idea that you might be avoiding him on purpose—it didn’t sit right. You were family. He thought he’d always made that clear (he did right?), that you could come to him about anything. So why did it feel like you were slipping away? Did he not make it clear enough? (did he even make it clear?)

Dick pushed off the railing, his footsteps echoing as he started pacing again. He didn’t like this feeling. He needed to figure out what was going on. What had changed? And why did it feel like you were determined to keep him at arm’s length?

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

He knocked the thug out with a quick jab to the jaw and spun around to check on Jason, who was dealing with the last of the group. His voice, distorted slightly by the modulator in his helmet.

Jason, of course, was handling them with his usual… flair. A solid punch here, a sharp kick there, and the thugs were down for the count in no time. As Jason holstered his pistol, he glanced over at Dick, tilting his head slightly as though sizing him up.

Dick let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “Haha. Very funny.”

Jason lets out an audible scoff. Even though his face was obscured by his helmet, Dick could practically feel the eye roll.

“So?” Jason drawled, crossing his arms as he leaned against a lamppost. “Are you gonna speak up or what?”

Dick just sighs as he puts away his escrima sticks.

“It’s about (name).”

“What? She messed up again or something?”

Dick’s head snapped toward him, his brow furrowing. “What? No. Why would you even—”

Jason shrugged, kicking at the unconscious body of one of the thugs as if to test if he was really out cold. “I dunno. She’s always messing something up, isn’t she? And you have to clean up after her. At least, that’s the vibe I get.”

Dick’s shoulders tensed, a sharp frustration bubbling to the surface. “Jason, seriously?”

Jason raised his hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not ‘just saying,’” Dick interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended. “This is exactly why I’m worried. You guys act like she’s just… this screw-up, like she’s some annoyance you have to deal with, and it’s not fair.”

Jason tilted his head, clearly surprised by the outburst. “Okay, hold on. Where’s this coming from?”

Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned against a nearby wall, staring out over the dimly lit alleyway. “(Name) quit being Batgirl.”

Jason visibly froze for a split second at Dick’s words, the tension in his stance betraying his surprise. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He let out a scoff, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Okay. And?”

Dick blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “What do you mean, ‘Okay, and?’” he asked, incredulous. “(Name) quit, Jason. (Name). The girl who literally begged B and Babs to let her become Batgirl. She didn’t just want it; she fought for it. And now—”

“And now she’s finally done being a liability in a cape,” Jason interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Honestly, Grayson, shouldn’t you be happy about it?”

Dick’s breath hitched, the bluntness of the statement striking a nerve. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but a part of him—the small, cruel voice he always tried to silence—had whispered something similar when he first heard the news.

Jason, noticing the brief flicker of hesitation on Dick’s face, took that as his cue to keep going. “I mean, come on. She’s not cut out for this life, and you know it. You’re just too polite to say it out loud. So, good for her. She’s finally realized what the rest of us already knew.”

Dick was silent, his jaw tightening as Jason’s words hung heavy in the air. He didn’t want to agree, not even a little. But the doubt had already been planted, and Jason’s callousness only made it worse.

“No,” Dick said finally, his voice firm. He shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of the thought entirely. “Don’t call her a liability, Jay. And that’s not the point. She quit, yeah, but she’s been distant ever since. When she had this huge fight with Damian—”

Jason snorted. “Probably demon spawn’s fault.”

“Don’t say that,” Dick snapped, frowning at him. “It’s no one’s fault, Jason. They probably weren’t in the right headspace and let their emotions get the better of them.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Dick ignored the jab, his focus still on you and the unanswered questions swirling in his mind. He wasn’t going to let Jason’s cynicism—or his own creeping doubts—stop him. Whatever was going on, he’d figure it out. And more importantly, he’d make sure you knew that he cared, no matter what anyone else thought.

Dick sighed, running a hand down his face. “Jay, come on.”

Jason turned to him, arms crossing defensively. “Seriously, what the hell do you want me to do, Dick?”

“I don’t know! Go talk to her or something!” Dick snapped, exasperation lacing his tone.

Jason gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Oh, right. Like she’d talk to me of all people. Great plan, genius.”

Dick threw up his hands in frustration, his patience quickly wearing thin. “Come on. What’s your deal?”

Jason paused, the question clearly catching him off guard. “Excuse me?” His voice dropped a notch, low and warning.

But Dick didn’t care about the edge in Jason’s tone or the way his posture screamed “back off.” He was too fed up, too worried, and too frustrated to stop now. “No, seriously,” Dick pressed, stepping closer. “It’s like you don’t even care about (Name).”

Jason’s whole body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. Dick could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

“What?” Jason snapped, his voice rising. “So you want her to keep wearing a mask and fight battles she clearly can’t handle? You want her to keep throwing herself into situations where she’s gonna get herself killed? That’s what caring looks like to you?”

Dick stepped forward, his own frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about whether or not she’s wearing a mask! This is about you acting like you don’t give a damn about her!”

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on what I feel? That’s rich coming from you.”

“I thought you two were close, Jason,” Dick shot back, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What happened? You used to care about her. You used to look out for her!”

Jason scoffed, the sound harsh and bitter. “What happened? Life happened, Dick. I’m not the same 15-year-old boy she knew back then. And I’ll never be that guy she knew again. So don’t stand there and act like you have any right to talk about my relationship with her when I don’t see you even having half of what me and her had before.”

That struck a nerve, and Dick’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t care about her?” he asked, his voice low and steady now, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Jason’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he was sizing Dick up. “Oh, you care, alright. But not enough to actually see what’s in front of you. She tries too hard, she’s always second guessing herself, and honestly? It’s exhausting to watch. Whereas you’re too busy running around trying to ‘fix’ everything to even notice.”

Dick flinched, the words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Jason shot back, stepping closer, his voice dripping with bitterness. “But here’s the thing—you want her to keep being Batgirl because it makes you feel better. Like you’re holding this family together or something. But did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, she quit because she wants to?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “And instead of giving her the space to do that, you’re chasing her down like she’s some mission you need to complete.”

Jason’s words hit Dick like a slap in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“I’m just trying to help her,” Dick said softly, his voice losing some of its fire.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, finally removing his helmet. His face was set in a hard expression, but there was something raw in his eyes. “Yeah, well, sometimes helping means knowing when to back the hell off.”

The two of them stood in tense silence, the night air heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Jason stepped back, shaking his head. “If you want to do something for her, stop acting like you know what’s best for her. I’d rather see her alive than rotting as a damn corpse, labelled as one of the old man’s fallen soldiers.”

With that, Jason turned and walked away, leaving Dick standing there, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on his shoulders.

The thugs were all rounded up and still unconscious, whereas Jason was out of sight. But his words lingered in Dick’s mind, playing on a loop.

I’d rather see her alive than rotting as a damn corpse.

Dick sighed, sitting on the edge of the rooftop. His escrima sticks rested loosely in his hands as he stared down at the empty streets below. Jason’s parting words had hit their mark, and he hated to admit it. The thought of you… dying—just the word alone made his stomach churn.

Jason had already died once, and Dick hadn’t been there to stop it. He hadn’t been there to save him. If the same thing happened to you, if you ended up another casualty in their endless war against Gotham’s darkness…

That’s on him.

He swallowed hard, gripping his escrima sticks tighter as guilt began to settle in his chest like a lead weight. Jason was right. It was probably a good thing you quit. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he let another one of his siblings die.

Siblings.

The word felt heavy now, laden with unspoken truths. Jason’s earlier jab suddenly clawed its way to the forefront of Dick’s mind:

Don’t stand there and act like you have any right to talk about my relationship with her when I don’t see you even having half of what me and her had before.

Did Jason really believe that? Did you?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Of course, he cared about you. Of course, he’d been there for you. Hadn’t he?

But as much as he wanted to dismiss Jason’s words, they stuck with him, gnawing at the edges of his conscience. Slowly, memories began to surface, unbidden and relentless.

He was Robin then—young, brash, and full of anger. The grief over his parents’ deaths was still fresh, a raw wound he didn’t know how to heal. And you… you were Bruce’s kid. That was all he saw you as. He watched you grow up, become this bubbly kid, who, for some reason, looked up to him a lot.

But what did he do with that? He bailed.

He could remember it so clearly now, those moments when you’d ask him to play with you, to just talk—and he’d brush you off. “Not now, (Name),” he’d say, and ruffle your hair. The Teen Titans needed him. Gotham needed him. But you didn’t know that. Bruce wanted to keep you out of this life, and frankly, he did too. Which was why there was always some excuse to explain why he was so busy, why he couldn’t play with you for as long as you wanted him to.

He winced as another memory came rushing back: one of the many times you’d waited up for him in the living room, hoping to show him some new arts and craft you did, or one of your tests that you did really well in. He’d walked in with Wally and Donna, laughing about something from their latest mission, barely sparing you a glance.

“Wow, this is nice!” He’d say absent-mindedly, before ruffling your hair like you were some kid tagging along.

“I’ll catch you later, alright?” he’d say, and then he’d leave you alone.

And what had you done? You’d nodded, forced a smile, even as disappointment flashed across your face. He hadn’t noticed it then—not really. He’d been too caught up in his own world, too focused on proving himself to the team, to Bruce, to everyone.

Dick let out a shaky breath, the weight of those memories settling over him like a suffocating blanket. God, Jason was right.

He hadn’t been there for you the way Jason had. Jason, for all his faults, had always been someone you could count on when he first came to the family—someone who didn’t bail, who didn’t make you feel lonely.

But that was before his death. Now things were different between you two. Neither of you were willing to repair the broken bond you two once shared. Why? He wasn’t sure.

Dick rubbed a hand over his face, the ache in his chest growing sharper. “Damnit,” he muttered under his breath.

What could he even do to make this right? To show you that you mattered to him—that you’d always mattered?

But deep down, he already knew the answer. He couldn’t fix this with mere words or gestures or even the best intentions. He had to show you, prove to you, that he was here for you now. That he wasn’t going to leave you alone this time.

Even if that meant letting you go for now, giving you the space you clearly needed. Even if that meant accepting that you no longer wanted to be Batgirl, that he’d fallen short. But he was willing to do better. Even if it meant he’d had to wait.

The thought hurt, but it was better than losing you for good.

“This is nice.”

The warm sunlight filtered through the trees at Gotham Park, casting dappled patterns across the picnic blanket. Caitlyn was leaned against you, her sketchpad balanced on her knees, pencil gliding smoothly as she doodled. Adrien sat cross-legged across from you both, stuffing another bite of a homemade pastry into his mouth with an exaggerated hum of delight.

Adrien nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with Caitlyn, as he pointed his fork at you. “You can say that again! (Name), I didn’t know you could make treats like this! They’re so good!”

Caitlyn grinned, glancing up from her sketch. “Literally! This is amazing. You’ve been holding out on us, chef.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands, a little bashful at their praise. “I… honestly didn’t think I could make anything this good,” you admitted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re kidding, right?” Adrien said, picking up another cookie. “These are, like, professional-level good. If you ever decide to stop… uh, doing whatever it is you do after school, you could totally open a bakery or something.”

You laughed, though the comment stung just a little—only because you didn’t know you were good at making pasteries.

To fill up your now free schedule after quiting as Batgirl, you had gone to Alfred and asked him to teach you how to bake.

Alfred, helpful and patient as always, agreed without hesitation. “Baking, my dear,” he had said with a faint smile, “is both a science and an art. It requires precision, but it is also a most rewarding endeavor.”

And so, your evenings became a blend of warmth, flour-dusted counters, and Alfred’s gentle guidance. He would show you how to knead dough, measure ingredients with precision, and even share some of his most guarded recipes—ones he claimed even your father was particularly fond of.

When you weren’t in the kitchen with Alfred, you spent your afternoons at the library with Caitlyn and Adrien. Studying with them, or rather, helping them study, had become another way to fill your time.

High school material was easy enough for you—thanks to your first life. You’d already tackled algebra, chemistry, and history years ago. So instead of cramming for tests yourself, you found yourself explaining concepts to Caitlyn and Adrien, who both leaned heavily on your ability to simplify even the most convoluted topics.

“Okay, so… if x is equal to 4, then y has to be…” Adrien tapped his pencil against his notebook, staring intently at the equation in front of him

“Eight,” Caitlyn supplied confidently, but her grin faltered when Adrien and you both gave her a look.

“Try again,” you said with a soft laugh, pointing to the part of the equation she’d miscalculated.

Caitlyn groaned dramatically, flopping back into her chair. “Math is dumb.”

“Math is logical,” you corrected, though your teasing tone made Adrien snort. “You just need to stop skipping steps.”

“Why does it feel like you’re giving us the cheat sheet to life?” Adrien said, glancing up from his notes. “You make this stuff seem so easy.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Caitlyn chimed in. “Are you secretly some kind of math genius or something?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ve just… always been good at this kind of thing.”

They didn’t need to know the full truth—that you’d already gone through high school. They didn’t know the truth about you or your family before, and you weren’t planning to change that now. They didn’t need to know about the mask you’d taken off or the life you were trying to leave behind. For now, it was enough to help them, to enjoy their company, and to let this simpler version of your life unfold.

It was strange, almost surreal, how quickly you’d settled into this new routine. But you found that you didn’t mind it. For the first time in a long time, life felt… normal. And maybe that was what you needed most.

As Caitlyn returned to her doodling and Adrien polished off another pastry, you leaned back on your hands, letting the moment sink in. It felt… peaceful. A rare pocket of calm in the chaos that had been your life lately.

The park was lively but not overwhelming, the gentle hum of laughter and chatter from other families and friends creating a soothing backdrop. The late afternoon sun warmed your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt grounded.

“Hey,” Adrien said suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “We should do this more often.”

Caitlyn nodded. “Agreed. This is probably the most relaxed I’ve seen you in weeks, (Name).”

You hesitated, glancing between your two friends. They weren’t wrong. But a part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. You weren’t being truthful to them, yet they were still being so nice. You didn’t deserve them.

You opened your mouth to reply, ready to brush off Caitlyn’s and Adrien’s comments, when a sudden, sharp flash of green invaded your vision. It was jarring—so vivid and overwhelming that you winced, instinctively bringing a hand to your temple. For a moment, it felt like the world tilted on its axis, the vibrant sounds of the park muffled by the ringing in your ears.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. The green was seared into your memory, the edges of it glowing like embers before fading entirely. The momentary pain in your head vanished, leaving behind nothing but confusion.

“What the hell…” you muttered under your breath, still dazed.

“(Name)!” Caitlyn’s voice was sharp with concern, snapping you out of your stupor. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

Adrien leaned closer, his eyes wide with worry. “You winced. Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

You glanced between the two of them, their faces etched with genuine concern. You didn’t want to worry them. You couldn’t worry them. So you forced a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, really. Just a headache. Probably didn’t drink enough water or something.”

But Caitlyn wasn’t buying it. She immediately pushed herself off you, her sketchbook forgotten as she leaned in close, her expression dead serious. “Nope. No way. If you’ve got a headache, you need to go home and rest. Sun’s probably not helping either.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Adrien chimed in, nodding emphatically. “Don’t push yourself too much. We can always continue this another time, okay?”

You tried to protest, but their stubbornness left no room for argument. Caitlyn was already packing up the picnic, her movements quick and decisive, while Adrien carefully wrapped up the leftover pastries.

“You guys are being dramatic—” you started to say, but Caitlyn cut you off with a pointed glare.

“Nope. Not hearing it. We’re not taking any chances,” she insisted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Come on, we’ll walk you home.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you realized there was no point in fighting them on this. “Alright, alright. I’ll go.”

As the three of you made your way out of the park, Caitlyn clinging protectively to your arm, your thoughts drifted back to the green flashes. What the hell was that? It wasn’t just a headache—that much you knew.

You forced a smile as Caitlyn began chattering about her latest art project, Adrien throwing in jokes to lighten the mood. But in the back of your mind, the unsettling image of green light lingered, pulsing faintly like a warning you couldn’t ignore.

You finally managed to convince Caitlyn and Adrien to leave you at the gates of Wayne Manor, reassuring them for what felt like the hundredth time that you’d be fine. They only relented when you promised to text them once you’re feeling better, and with a wave and one last concerned glance, they finally left. You sighed in relief and turned toward the manor, making your way inside.

When you stepped inside, that’s when you saw him—a familiar, bubbly boy practically skipping towards the manor entrance. Jon Kent. Superman’s son. Damian’s best (and only) friend.

Wow. He looked so much younger than you remembered.

The moment Jon spotted you, his face lit up. Before you could even blink, he was flying over to you, his grin wide and infectious. “(Name)!” he called cheerfully as he landed in front of you, his feet barely making a sound on the gravel path.

You blinked, startled but unable to help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Hey, Jon.”

“How are you? Are you okay? You look okay! Wait—were you out? Where did you go? Do you need help carrying anything?!” He practically bounced on his heels as he bombarded you with questions, his usual excited energy radiating off him like sunlight.

You chuckled fondly, shaking your head as you answered. “I’m fine, Jon, really. And no, I don’t need help. I was just out with some friends.”

“Oh, okay!” he chirped, looking momentarily reassured. “I was just here hanging out with Damian, but—uh, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I kinda didn’t tell my parents I was flying over here. So, you know, I should probably head back to Metropolis before they notice I’m gone.”

You snorted softly at that, a nostalgic warmth in your chest. “Your secret’s safe with me. I’ll pretend I didn’t see you.” You said, and winked.

Jon’s grin returned in full force, but it faltered slightly as he looked at you again. This time, his expression was hesitant, uncertain, like he was trying to figure out how to say something.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, tilting your head at him.

Jon shuffled his feet, his voice quieter now. “Uh… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He hesitated again, looking down before blurting out, “Is everything okay between you and Damian?”

You froze. The question caught you completely off guard. Your mind stalled, your smile faltering as you stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

Jon must’ve noticed, because he immediately panicked, waving his hands frantically as he backtracked. “Oh! You don’t have to answer! Forget I asked! It’s just—” He fumbled over his words, his cheeks turning red. “I was asking Damian about you, and he… he kinda just glared at me. And then he changed the subject! Really fast! Like, super fast. And, uh… I’ve never really seen him act like that before.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Damian… avoiding the subject of you? Now that you thought about it, you hadn’t exactly seen Damian around the manor since that argument in your room. It was like he was going out of his way to avoid you entirely. Was he?

But you couldn’t let Jon worry about that. He was just a kid, and this wasn’t his problem. So, instead of letting your own thoughts spiral, you forced a laugh and reached out to ruffle his hair gently. “Don’t worry about it, Jon. Damian and I just got into an argument, that’s all. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

Jon blinked up at you, his expression still unsure, but he nodded slowly, leaning into the comforting touch of your hand. “Okay… if you say so.”

“Really. We’ll work it out,” you reassured him, giving his hair one last affectionate pat. Somehow.

He smiled again, though it was a little smaller this time. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure. You know… you’re important to Damian too, even if he doesn’t say it.”

You paused at that, something in your chest squeezing painfully, but before you could respond, Jon glanced at the time and jolted upright. “Oh no! I really gotta go now, or I’m so dead!”

With that, he gave you a hurried wave, his boyish grin returning. “Bye, (Name)! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You smiled softly and waved back as he floated up into the sky, watching as he zipped off toward Metropolis in a blur of red and blue. Once he was gone, you let out a slow breath, your hand falling to your side as your thoughts drifted back to Damian.

Jon’s words lingered in your mind.

You’re important to Damian too.

It doesn’t really feel that way though….

Alfred Pennyworth, ever the watchful guardian of Wayne Manor, had always considered it his duty—not just as a butler, but as something far more profound—to care for the members of the Wayne family. For all their strength and tenacity, they were, at their core, human. Bruce and his children—each carrying burdens far heavier than any child or young adult should. And so, he noticed things. He always noticed.

Lately, what he noticed most was the way you carried yourself these past few days—lighter, freer. There was a spark in your eyes that had been absent for far too long, a small but significant ease in your posture. You looked happier. Relaxed, even. It was subtle, something anyone else might have overlooked, but not Alfred. No, he knew you. He knew what haunted you when you thought no one was looking. But now? Now you seemed… different.

Frankly, he hoped it stayed that way.

“Miss (Name), if I may,” Alfred began gently as he watched you measure flour into a bowl, a little puff of white powder escaping into the air. “You seem… at peace, lately...”

You paused, glancing up at him with a small, slightly sheepish smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Indeed.” He gave you a soft, knowing look as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “Would it be terribly forward of me to inquire as to what—or who—has brought about this change?”

You shifted, focusing a little too hard on sifting the flour as you shrugged. “It’s my friends. Caitlyn and Adrien. They helped me realize there’s more to life than just…” You trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Than just the responsibilities placed upon your shoulders?” Alfred offered delicately.

You nodded, giving him a grateful glance. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Your friends. Alfred found himself deeply relieved to hear that you had people like Caitlyn and Adrien in your life—people who brought you happiness, people who helped lighten the weight you carried. “I see,” he said with a small smile. “It gladdens my heart to know you have such loyal companions. Though, might I suggest inviting them here, to the manor?”

You blinked, looking at him as though he’d suggested something preposterous. “Alfred…”

“Miss, it would seem only fair for me to meet the individuals who have been instrumental in helping you through your turmoil. They seem like lovely people.” His tone was kind, slight humourous even, as he mixed something in a nearby bowl.

You laughed softly, but there was a stubborn edge to it as you shook your head. “As much as I’d like for you to meet them, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alfred. They don’t know about this family’s secrets, and I intend to keep it that way..”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, ever patient. “I’m certain Master Bruce and Master Richard can manage a polite exchange, at the very least.”

You gave him a pointed look, and Alfred sighed, though it was laced with fondness. “Very well, Miss (Name). If you insist.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, giving him a small smile.

Though Alfred was slightly disappointed at your reluctance, he respected your wishes. He always did. And if your friends made you happy—even if he wouldn’t be able to meet them—then he supposed that was enough for now.

“Now then,” Alfred said, turning back to the task at hand, “you’ll want to add the butter slowly while continuing to mix.”

You hummed as you followed his instruction, your brow furrowing in concentration. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, the kitchen filling with the soft sounds of utensils clinking, the hum of the oven warming, and your quiet conversation.

“So, Miss Caitlyn and Mister Adrien—are they excelling in their studies with your assistance?”

“Adrien, yes,” you said, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Caitlyn… well, she’s trying, but math isn’t really her thing.”

“And yet you continue to help them both. How noble of you,” Alfred replied as he handed you a whisk. “And what of school itself? Are you settling in well?”

You shrugged, starting to mix the ingredients. “Eh…It’s alright. A little boring sometimes, but I guess it’s better than…”

Dying.

You stopped yourself short, quickly correcting, “better than not being in school at all.”

Alfred didn’t miss the slip, but he didn’t press. “Indeed. A dull day can be a blessing in disguise.”

You gave him a thoughtful look, lips quirking into a soft smile. “You always know what to say, Alfred.”

“I try, Miss (Name). I try.”

And as Alfred watched you work—your expression relaxed, your mind seemingly at ease—he hoped, quietly, that this simpler version of your life, this peaceful respite, would last just a little longer.

The soft hum of the oven filled the kitchen as you pulled the last batch of treats onto the counter. The warm, golden pastries sat neatly on their tray, a small comfort in a life that had otherwise been anything but neat. Baking had become your escape—an anchor to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

But the calm was short-lived.

Alfred’s comm buzzed quietly, and though his expression remained composed, you saw the subtle shift in his demeanor—a slight straightening of his back, the way his gaze sharpened. Something was happening.

“It seems Master Bruce and the others require my assistance,” he said, his tone steady as always.

You already knew what that meant. Gotham was in chaos again.

Alfred turned to you, his expression softening with the familiarity of his next question. “Are you sure you do not wish to assist? They could use an extra hand, Miss (Name).”

The offer hung in the air, and for a second, you hesitated. There was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes, to jump back into action and prove yourself—to prove you could help.

But then you suddenly got flashbacks of a memory that you had kept stored away. Oh right. You remembered what this attack was.

Another one of Riddler’s bombing attacks.

Riddler had been terrorizing Gotham with a string of coordinated explosions around this time, targeting key buildings across the city. Chaos had unfolded over the city as your father, along with other available vigilantes in Gotham, scrambled to contain the damage, evacuate civilians, and track down Riddler before he could set off another series of bombs.

You had been told to stay put back then. “It’s too dangerous,” Bruce had said. “We need you to sit this one out.”

But you hadn’t listened.

You’d tracked down one of Riddler’s supposed locations on your own, convinced you could help. The moment you arrived, you knew you’d made a mistake. The building had been rigged, and your sudden presence sent everything spiraling. The countdown on the bomb accelerated. The Riddler’s men panicked and scattered, slipping out before Bruce and the others could surround them.

Dick, Tim, Stephanie and Cassandra had to swoop in to clean up the mess—disarming the bomb, calming the chaos, and stopping any further destruction. They managed to save the day, to prevent any civilian casualties, but Riddler himself got away.

Bruce’s fury still echoed in your head.

“Do you have any idea what you nearly cost us tonight?”

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye.

“They got the job done,” you’d mumbled, your voice small, but that hadn’t mattered to him.

“Because they had to clean up after you,” he’d snapped, his words sharp enough to sting. “You disobeyed a direct order, and you let Riddler slip away.”

It was one of those moments you wouldn’t forget. Not because of Bruce’s anger, but because he’d been right. You’d wanted to help, and all you’d done was make it harder for everyone else.

Back in the kitchen, you swallowed hard, snapping back to the present. Alfred was still watching you patiently, waiting for an answer.

“I’m sure,” you said finally, your voice tight but firm. You offered a small, forced smile. “They don’t need me. They can handle it themselves.”

For a moment, Alfred regarded you with that knowing look of his, like he could see through every wall you’d put up.

“Very well,” he said softly, though there was a faint note of disappointment in his voice. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you cut in quickly, your voice quieter this time.

Alfred gave a small nod, seemingly accepting your answer, though you didn’t miss the flicker of concern in his gaze as he turned toward the door.

As he left to fulfill his duties, the kitchen fell silent once more. You leaned back against the counter, staring blankly at the pastries you’d worked so hard on.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

“They don’t need me,” you whispered to yourself, repeating the words like a mantra.

But it didn’t feel comforting. It felt hollow.

Because, deep down, the truth still hurts you even now.

You stood in the quiet kitchen for a moment after Alfred left, the hum of the Wayne Manor settling into the evening stillness. The smell of baked goods lingered in the air, but even that wasn’t enough to soothe the weight pressing down on you. With a tired sigh, you began packing everything away, carefully placing the treats into containers and wiping down the counters.

Once the kitchen was clean and silent, you dragged yourself upstairs to your room. It had been a long day—long week, really—and all you wanted to do was sleep. Kicking off your shoes and pulling the blankets over yourself, you let exhaustion take over. For once, you didn’t dream.

A sharp ringing jolted you awake.

Your eyes cracked open reluctantly, the faint glow of your phone lighting up your bedside table. The clock read 4:23 AM. Groaning, you fumbled for the phone, squinting at the screen to see an incoming call—and a series of missed notifications.

22 messages from Caitlyn.

The sight alone snapped you out of your drowsiness. Your stomach twisted, the urgency of it sinking in as you swiped to pick up.

“Caitlyn?” Your voice was groggy and thick with sleep, but there was an edge of concern as you sat up in bed. “What’s going on?”

“(Name)!” Caitlyn’s voice came through the line, panicked, frantic, and scared. It hit you like a punch to the gut. “Oh my god, I—It’s Adrien….He—He’s in the hospital…!”

What?

I think you guys should read the masterlist once more in case you missed out any key warnings…

taglist (1/2): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 @reallyromealone @plsfckmedxddy @sea-glasses @203moonysello @luvly-writer @dovey-quacks2332 @love-theangel @hotdinoankles @vebbiewuzhere @animegirlfromvietnam @estreiiuh @simply-lovely78 @twismare @ssak-i @g4bbi3xx @alor-thes | ask to be added <3 (idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

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catboyieejeno · 2 months ago

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NEED MORE BF MARKKK

bf! mark would be so, so easy to love effortlessly.

Just imagine the way he’d show up on your first date—a little nervous but doing his best to hide it with that signature easygoing smile. He’d bring a hoodie or jacket for you “just in case it gets cold,” with that mix of boyish charm and thoughtfulness that makes your heart race. Might overdo it with the cologne ngl... but it's unbelievably endearing.

"Jeno. Smell this."

Jeno snorts, pushing it back. “Dude, I’m not smelling your sweatshirt.”

“Come on, man. Just smell it.” Mark insists, wiggling the fabric at him.

With a sigh, Jeno brings it to his nose and takes a cautious sniff—then immediately recoils, gagging and waving his hand in front of his face.

“Bro, did you dunk this in cologne?” He gasps, holding it at arm’s length. “She’s gonna need a gas mask just to survive.”

Mark frowns, glancing at the sweatshirt. “I thought it needed a couple sprays…”

As things get more serious, he’d make a habit of sending you little surprises that show he’s thinking of you. You’d find a random playlist from him waiting in your messages one day, labeled “For you” with the one giggling emoji, filled with tracks he thinks you’d love. He’d stay up late making it, mulling over how you’ll react to each song.

He’d invite you to hang out with his friends one weekend, blending you seamlessly into his life. When you’re there, you’d see his quiet, protective side come out—he’d stay close to you, keeping an arm around the back of your chair or brushing a hand over your shoulder to make sure you’re comfortable. He might not even realize he’s doing it, but everyone would notice the way he softens around you, the way he’s always got a careful eye on you, ensuring you're having a good time. If you so much as shiver, he’d immediately offer his jacket with a shy, “Here, just take it, okay?”

And if he sees that you’re having a rough day, he wouldn’t ask too many questions or push you to talk; he’d just show up with your favorite drink or snack, a hoodie, and some silly videos he’s saved just to see you laugh. When you’re ready to open up, he’d listen so intently, holding your hand, never interrupting.

When he’d kiss you, it would start out gentle, with him leaning in a little slowly, his eyes flicking to yours to make sure to watch how dazed you become when he gets so close. His lips would be soft, barely brushing against yours at first, before he’d press in a little deeper, savoring the feeling. He’d hold your face in his hands or let his thumb trace along your jaw, taking his time. He might laugh softly into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist to pull you closer or just hold your hips, rubbing slow circles on your skin or squeezing if you make any kind of sound. God, hearing you hum or moan during a kiss would absolutely drive him insane.

"Just like that," he'd mumble, "I love the pretty sounds you make for me."

"You like it when I kiss you there?" and if you didn't answer, he'd let his hips hover, not giving you what you want.

"How about this?" A kiss on your shoulder, "Hmm?" another on your chest, "Is this okay?"

"Shit, baby, c'mere." if you've been kissing anywhere but his lips for too long, he always finds himself craving them.

His lips would be anywhere, on the corner of your lips, on your cheek, your jaw, your neck... fingers trailing on your waist and squeezing your flesh. I feel like he's on the shyer side when the two of you are doing mindless tasks or around friends, but for some reason, when he's so wrapped up in you in these private moments, he'd groan and whimper without restraint. There's a sliver of shyness left, a tell being his flushed skin and the way he'd bite his lips, but otherwise, he's giving you his all.

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emmyrosee · 7 months ago

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Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰

oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)

———

“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”

“Okay.”

“And her melts are in the cabinet!”

“I know, I live here too.”

“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“

“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”

“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.

But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but-“

“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”

You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”

“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“

“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”

Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”

“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”

“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”

“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.

He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“

“Sukuna!” You snap.

“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.

The colors are good stimulation.

“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?

A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.

By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.

He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.

“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”

With that, you come home.

He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”

“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”

“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“

“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”

When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”

Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.

He loves that his small family fits in his arms.

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

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Hi Mae!

I love your writing so much and think about it maybe too often haha. Today I fell and sliced the back of my hand open so I had to go wait 4 hours at the ER to get it sutured back together and I thought it might be a sort of funny scenario to write about with the marauders where R just walks up to them covered in blood like “heyy who wants to drive me to the ER” and is pretty chill in demeanour until the reality of having a hole in her hand sets in once they clean her up. I went into shock then, lost my hearing for a few minutes which was scary, but luckily I had a someone nearby who could help. Of course no worries if you don’t feel like it, I appreciate you and I hope you have a lovely day!♡

Thanks for requesting! I hope your hand is feeling better lovely <3

cw: blood, mention of razors (unrelated to blood)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 788 words

“Hey, Sirius?”

Sirius screws the brush of his nail polish back into the bottle. “Yeah?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not anymore.” He gets up from the bed, wandering towards your voice in the bathroom. “What’s up, gorgeous? You need something?”

Sirius stalls when he finds you. You’re standing there with a dissatisfied frown on your face, your hand a basin of blood held in front of you that’s overflowing into the sink.

“Maybe a ride to A&E?” you ask. “If you’re free.”

“What the hell happened?” Sirius goes to you. He tries to take your hand, but you move it away.

“Wait, your nails—”

“I’m not really worried about my nails right now, babe.” He holds you by the wrist, turning the faucet on to a gentle flow before bringing your hand underneath it. The blood washes away quickly, and Sirius blocks your view of the cut, leaning down to see it. “How’d you manage this?”

“I was just opening my new razors—”

“Razors?”

“It wasn’t even the razors that did it,” you say, a laugh somewhere in your voice. Your raised voices have drawn attention from the rest of the house. Remus and then James appear in the doorway. “It was the plastic it comes in. Surprisingly sharp.”

“What’s going on?” asks James.

“She would like to know,” Sirius informs him, “if it’s convenient for any of us to drive her to A&E.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, you don’t have to say it like that. I just mean that it’s not so dire, I’m hardly bleeding out.”

“You might be!”

“What’d you do, love?” Remus moves forward to see, he and Sirius now clustered on either side of you, each closer to your own hand than you are.

“She managed to injure herself with plastic packaging.”

“Okay. Again, the tone is a bit much,” you say.

“Aw, sweetheart.” James’ arms wrap around your waist. He smudges a kiss onto your cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, audibly softening at the affection, “it doesn’t even hurt that bad, it’s only stinging…” You go quiet.

Sirius glances back at you, and you’re staring between him and Remus, your hand in your view for the first time. You look suddenly paler.

“Hey, baby.” Sirius’ voice draws the attention of the other two to what’s happened. He steps in front of your hand again, squeezing up the length of your arm. “You’re okay.”

“It’s…” You stare at where you had been for a moment longer, then snap your vision to the side. You’re breathing a tad faster. “God, sorry. I feel sort of sick.”

“Take some breaths, dove, you’re alright.” Remus holds your hand close to his chest, shielding it from your view as he reaches into a nearby drawer for bandages. “We’re just going to stop the bleeding and then take you to A&E, you don’t have to do anything.”

“All of you?”

“Why?” James gives your middle a light squeeze. “Are there some of us you’d rather not have there?”

“I knew she had favorites.” Sirius grins. “Cruel. We’re only trying to be there for you, gorgeous.”

You smile a little bit for their sake. You’re not sure either of them believe it, but James gives you a thankful kiss nonetheless.

“Keep breathing,” he reminds you, big hand rubbing up and down your abdomen. “You’re really doing so well. I was surprised by how calm you seemed a minute ago.”

“You should have heard her before you got here.” Sirius squints his eyes at you playfully. “She wouldn’t let me touch her hand because she was worried it’d mess up my nail polish.”

“Sweetheart,” James laughs, giving you another fond squeeze. “Really?”

“Priorities, babe,” Sirius chides you.

“Alright,” says Remus. You feel a kiss on your knuckles, and then he’s turning around, your bandaged hand still held protectively between both of his. “Is anyone going to warm the car, or do I have to do everything?”

You nod, chastened, and start towards the door, but you’re dragged back by three pairs of hands.

“I mean anyone not injured, dove.” Remus’ voice is heavy with loving exasperation.

“See what we’ve been dealing with? It’s a two man job.” Sirius squeezes your shoulder on his way past, presumably going to warm the car. James says something about getting your shoes and follows behind.

You give Remus a woeful look. He tsks, folding you into a hug. “Did you really prioritize Sirius’ nail polish over your bleeding hand?” he asks in a murmur.

You mush your cheek to his chest. “Only for a minute.”

Remus is quiet, but his amused breath fans over the top of your head as he brings his lips down for a kiss.

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luveline · 5 months ago

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omg can I request a more timid luna lovegood reader with remus lupin?? I feel like he’s more serious, so she would compliment him well!! maybe the two of them falling asleep with one another and her dozing off while talking about bugs or something and he’s just like, wow I love her!!

“Oh,” he says quietly, more to himself than you as he pulls you to his chest, “lovely, I missed you.”

Your pyjamas are made of a soft, thin material you favour and he can’t name. Your vest doesn’t cover much, but he’s covered you up with his arms and the blanket, and the space between you is roiling with body heat. “We were apart for twelve days.”

“I know.” He could not be more regretful.

“That’s almost three hundred hours without seeing one another.”

“We spoke on the phone.”

“It’s not the same,” you say. Remus would have to agree.

He feels like he can sleep well for the first time in those three hundred hours, knowing you’re alright, happy, and fed within arm’s reach. He really can’t decide what he missed most, your smell, your hair, your nose as it rubs against his throat. It must’ve been this, your weight on his side, and the sound of your voice as you murmur intricacies into his skin.

“I caught fifteen bugs while you were gone, that’s more than one every day… I kept the ladybug, but then she exploded into even more ladybugs. I noticed she laid eggs in the tank but I wasn’t expecting them to hatch so quickly… it was…” Your lips curve into a smile against his neck. “It was only a few days, baby. So many bugs.”

“I’m sure she lived a very good life.”

“She’s still alive, I think. I let them out into the back garden, I wasn’t expecting to be responsible for so many.”

You fold an arm across his chest and kiss his chin, to his sleepy delight. Your presence is lulling him to sleep, once slow sentence at a time. “I’m sure she was just as happy in your tank as the outdoors, lovely,” he says. Your tank being a very large space that you customise to whatever bug you’ve found. You do your research, and you give them long, healthy lives. You’re kind, and you keep them only to watch them and love them.

“You know ladybugs are beetles?” you whisper.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Mm-hm,” —you kiss his chin again, soft and with warming breath— “there are five thousand different species of ladybugs. Thousand. And they’re all different colours and sizes and…”

You rub your nose into his cheek.

“I missed you so much,” you say.

“I missed you too. I missed your voice.” Remus rubs your back, feels your top ride up. He draws a line along your naked spine. “Tell me more about the ladybugs, please? I was almost sleeping.”

“If I tell you and you fall asleep, you won’t remember.”

“Can you tell me again at breakfast? Would that be okay?”

You sound pretty sleepy yourself as you answer. “Okay, I’ll tell you twice, but only because you asked me so nicely.”

Wow, he thinks, feeling the length of your back in sluggish drags, I love her.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago

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backstage back shots with san ♡

a/n: listennnnn im still fighting with writer’s block and it’s winning i’m not even gonna lie to you but …… COACHELLA SAN. i wrote this in twenty minutes so please don’t expect a full fledged masterpiece TT that being enjoy the brainrot babes <333

w.c: around 500 words

warnings: reader’s older in this (she’s their manager shjsdh), dom! san, possessiveness, dirty talk, semi public sex, tit play, unprotected sex, back shot

Once San left that stage, he could feel his heart pounding against his glistening chest, his ears still ringing from the intense surge of adrenaline outlining his wired brain and body, and he could still hear their fans chanting and cheering for them, even as he made his way through the hectic backstage area. All of it concocted an invigorating mix of exhilaration inside San that he couldn’t shake. It almost bordered arousal.

It didn’t help when he saw you, Ateez’s precious manager, opening your arms up to him for a hug with a bright smile on your face, tears in your eyes, and an endless bout of praise leaving your pretty lips.

“I’m so, so proud of you, San…” you whispered into his ear, unaware of the state he was in, until you felt something hard pressing into your lower abdomen.

“How proud, Manager-nim?” he whispered back, running his fingers down along your waist, squeezing into them enough to make you squeak. “Do I deserve a reward?”

“A r-reward? I mean, of course you do, but…right here? Right now?”

San slowly led you backwards until you both were just barely out of sight of the event’s employees and your beloved coworkers. He rubbed his thumbs gently over your hips, angling his head down to see the way his hardened cock pressed into your body through his designer pants. “Right here…right now…”

You gulped, knowing everything about the situation was wrong, but you couldn’t help but to give in, like every time before.

San had you just how he liked, with your bare ass on full display for him, watching it bounce each time he pushed himself into you, groaning at the sensation of your hot cunt swallowing his cock up like you were made for him. You practically were, considering the way you always spread your legs for him, even as his boss. But, how could you say no?

San leaned forward, his bare, heated chest pressing heavily against your back, his throbbing cock hitting your sweet spot even easier at this new angle, resting his chin on your shoulder. He looked at you through the corner of his eyes, his lips quirked up into a knowing smirk. “Hey, Manager-nim. Whose pussy is this?”

“I-it’s yours, San,” you breathed out, feeling your cunt begin to squeeze around his length, your legs starting to grow weak underneath you.

“Yeah?” San perused, running his hands up under your disheveled clothes to grope at your tits, squeezing them in between his thick fingers, flicking and pulling at your nipples just to hear you try to hold back your pretty moans. “This cunt is all mine? Mine to fuck raw and fill with my load? Mine to use whenever I’d like, huh?”

Just as San’s filthy words left his mouth, you felt him go into overdrive, fucking into you so hard, you could hardly catch your breath, clawing at the walls of the backstage as an attempt to keep from completely losing yourself in the immense pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes…!” you cried out, knowing from the pleased groans and growls coming from San that you were creaming yourself on his rapidly moving cock.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl. You’re so filthy, Manager-nim…” San exhaled against your ear, dragging his tongue up along it, just as his body began to shudder and his rough thrusts were instead replaced by the slow, concentrated rolling of his hips. “Let me make you even filthier, okay?”

You looked back just in time to see him pull out and rest his thick cock against your ass, admiring his flushed, sweat-covered face, the way he could barely keep his eyes open, and the way his blazer was falling off of one of his broad shoulders. You didn’t look down until you began to feel something hot covering your lower back, watching as he painted the rest of your exposed skin and disheveled clothes with white.

San simply smiled back at you, running his fingers through his glistening hair to keep it from falling into his upturned eyes. “Thank you for the reward, Manager-nim. I’ll work even harder during the next stage because of you.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s wonderful to hear, San.” You shivered, suddenly feeling San’s load drip down your back and along your ass. “Now, if you don’t mind, could you help me clean this mess up?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #san smut #san ateez #choi san #san x reader #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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sungstars · 3 months ago

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slut me out | njm x fem!reader

i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.

word count: 2.8k (not proof read)

content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!

author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!

“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”

jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”

you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”

“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”

did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.

“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”

“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”

“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.

focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.

realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.

you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.

looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.

easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.

perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.

you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.

“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”

the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.

“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”

rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”

jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.

“you’re such a dick.”

“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."

"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."

jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.

you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.

"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."

jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.

"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."

a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.

his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.

you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.

you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.

jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.

pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.

"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."

jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."

how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.

you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.

moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."

smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?

"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."

"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."

a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.

"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."

a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.

jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.

you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.

"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."

stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.

"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."

if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.

once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.

you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.

spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.

jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”

you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”

the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.

he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”

your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.

without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.

"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."

his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.

you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.

jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.

you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.

the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.

whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.

jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.

you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.

"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."

cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."

he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.

sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.

too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.

he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.

"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"

"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.

"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"

jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."

he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"

you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.

"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."

degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.

"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."

jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."

you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."

his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.

jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.

"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."

all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."

jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.

you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."

jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."

when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.

you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.

the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.

"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."

"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."

with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.

your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.

"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"

"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."

one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."

he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.

once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.

"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."

end!

#nct dream imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin smut #na jaemin hard hours #na jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin hard hours #jaemin hard thoughts #jaemin imagines

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propertyofwicked · 6 months ago

Text

CAUGHT - LN

summary - sneaking around finally catches up to lando and his best friends little sister

warnings: smut at the very beginning, angst + swearing but fluff!! (fewtrell!reader)

part 3 to first and quiet

masterlist the playlist

“we really need to stop meeting like this,” lando grunted breathlessly, his thrusts never faltering as he bent y/n over the bathroom sink once more.

“maybe try not being so famous and recognisable and we could go on a date? to a restaurant?” y/n panted in response, hips rolling into lando’s tight grip on her waist, “like normal people?”

“but that would spoil the fun,” lando whined jokingly, “besides, if everyone knew about us, we’d have to start fucking in normal places. i don’t know about you but something about this bathroom really does it for me,” he added with a smirk, catching her eyes in the mirror.

“the toothpaste splatter real- fuck,” she started, cut off by the moan wrangling from her throat as lando pushed his length deeper, the pressure of the cold, bathroom counter pushing on her stomach, “keep going, fuck.”

“so good f’me, baby,” lando replied, feeling the way her walls tightened around him as he praised her, “all mi-”

“y/n? are you home?” max called out from the bottom of the stairs, sliding off his shoes.

“fuck sake,” lando groaned, stilling his hips but leaving his cock pressed deep inside of her, “i hate your brother.”

“y-yeah! i’m just….having a shower?” she called out in response before pushing herself up, pressing her back to lando’s chest before whispering, “no you don't. you do, however, need to get out of here without him seeing you.”

“have you seen lando?” max shouted again.

yes, he’s right here and he was very close to bringing me to orgasm, y/n internally grumbled as lando removed himself from her, finding his clothes quickly and tugging them on in a hurry.

“erm, not recently, no!” she replied, wincing slightly at the way her voice stuttered with the lie, her eyes making direct contact with the man in question. his arm reached around her, leaning into the shower and switching the dial quickly, spatters of water landing on his arm as he quickly retracted it.

“right you,” lando started, hands coming to hold her jaw, “shower. i’ll see you later,” he added, pushing her towards the shower, but not before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, his heart softening at the sight of her eyes slowly closing in his embrace. he walked to the door, slowly prising it open as he peered through the gap, checking the coast was clear. nodding to himself at the empty hallway, he made a run for it, trying to walk in a way that exuded casual, but with some speed in his step.

had he only looked harder, he may have noticed his best friend stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching as he crept his way out of the bathroom.

y/n stepped into the shower, turning on the water just enough to create some steam. she wasn't really there to get clean; she needed a moment to compose herself and keep up the pretence that she was, in fact, taking a shower. she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the cool droplets against her skin, and sighed.

and as she entered the kitchen, now with convincingly damp hair, y/n saw max sitting at the kitchen island, staring at the wall. his jaw was clenched tight, but every so often, his face would droop in confusion. he looked like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

"hey, max," y/n said casually, trying to keep her voice light, "what do you want for dinner tonight?"

max didn't respond immediately. he continued to stare at the wall, his fingers drumming lightly on the counter. finally, he turned his head slowly to look at her.

"why did you say you hadn't seen lando recently," he started, his voice strained, "when he literally walked out of the bathroom you were in? i know your eyesight's not great, but i think even stevie wonder would notice a literal human being stood in the bathroom with him."

y/n's heart skipped a beat. she hadn't expected him to put it together so quickly. "max, i can explain..."

max interrupted, standing up and pacing. "i just don't get it. why would you lie about something like that? why was lando in there with you?"

y/n took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "i didn't mean to lie, max. it's just... complicated."

"complicated?" max echoed, stopping to face her. "you call sneaking around with my best friend complicated?"

"yes, it's complicated," y/n said, her voice rising slightly. "because i didn't know how to tell you without you freaking out like this."

"freaking out?" max said, throwing his hands in the air. "you think this is freaking out? i'm just trying to understand why my sister and my best friend have been hiding this from me. whatever this is."

“max, i-” lando started, emerging from the doorway from where he’d been listening in.

“and you? of all people, you?” max argued, directing his anger at lando, “how did i piss you off that badly that you decide to fuck my little sister for revenge?”

“it’s not like that, we-”

“have you had sex with my sister?” max interrupted bluntly.

“well yes, bu-”

“how long?” max asked, turning to his sister for an answer.

“i’d say 6 and half inc-”

“how long have you been seeing each other, y/n?”

“3 months? 4?” she conceded, allowing her attempt of lightening the situation to wash over, ”and may i just say - insinuating that all i’m good for is a revenge shag? thank you so much for that,” she added sarcastically, smiling at him with no happiness behind it.

“are you serious? 4 months? lando? couldn't you have picked someone else?" max continued to argue, refusing to allow the guilt of his insulting comment to weigh on him in this moment, “literally, anyone else?”

“ouch,” lando commented, looking to the ceiling to avoid the awkwardness in the room, narrowly avoiding the daggers being shot at him from max’s stare.

“well maybe i would’ve if you hadn’t threatened anyone who tried,” y/n sighed, sick of his attitude, “is it that hard for you to just be happy for me? truly, would it kill you?”

“it might,” lando added.

“why didn’t you tell me?” max asked, looking to his sister as his voice lowered for the first time since she’d stepped into the kitchen.

"oh, sure, let me just check with you next time i develop feelings for someone. you don't get to control my life,” y/n rolled her eyes - max may be calming down, but she was just getting started.

“i care about her, max,” lando interrupted, trying to control the situation as he noticed the way y/n’s hands balled into fists against the worktop, “and i didn't want to hurt you or make things awkward between us. it was my idea not to tell you, ‘cos i didn’t know how.”

“we didn't want to cause any drama."

"too late for that," max muttered.

“clearly,” y/n responded bluntly, turning on her heel and heading towards the door as she stormed off in anger. but before she could leave, lando caught her, his grip firm but gentle.

"y/n, wait," he said softly, turning her back to face max. y/n felt lando's hands stay on her hips, rubbing gentle circles into her skin to calm her down. she relaxed slightly but kept her gaze fixed on max.

“i'm sorry for how you found out, but you have to understand that i'm capable of making my own decisions,” y/n said, her voice steady but still tinged with frustration, "finding out your own brother is the reason you have felt so alone for years is not a pleasant feeling, max.”

“it was for your own good.”

“my own good?” she scoffed, feeling the anger rise in her chest again, “for the sake of your own good i suggest you leave right now.”

“this is my house? i live here?”

“yeah? and if you don’t leave now you’re also going to die here,” she gritted, feeling lando’s fingertips press into her skin as a warning that maybe she maybe shouldn’t be so aggressive.

“fine,” max muttered, walking past the two of them and swiftly grabbing his shoes and coat before leaving the house, letting the door slam behind him.

y/n stood frozen for a moment, staring at the closed door. the weight of the situation finally caught up with her, and she felt her composure slipping, her shoulders shaking as the first tears began to fall.

lando was by her side in an instant, turning her round and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. "it's okay, baby," he murmured, rubbing her back in soothing circles, "let it out."

the dam broke, and y/n let herself cry, all the anger, exhaustion, and frustration pouring out in a torrent of tears. she clung to lando, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed into his chest. lando held her close, whispering comforting words and continuing to rub her back.

after what felt like an eternity, y/n's sobs began to subside. she pulled back slightly, her face tear-streaked and red. she looked up at lando, her eyes filled with regret.

"we should've been more careful," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"no, y/n,” lando shook his head, his expression firm, “your brother should be less of a dick. this is your life, you live it how you want to, and if he can't handle that, then that's his own burden to bear."

y/n sniffled, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "but he's my brother. i don't want to lose him over this."

"you won't," lando assured her, his hands cupping her face gently. "he's just shocked right now. he'll come around. but that doesn't mean we should regret being together."

y/n nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "you're right. i'm just... so tired of all this."

"i know," lando said softly, pulling her back into his embrace. "but we'll get through it."

they stood like that for a while, the quiet of the house enveloping them. y/n felt the last of her tears dry up, replaced by a renewed sense of determination.

“i’m proud of you, y’know,” lando started, causing y/n to pull back slightly to look up at him again.

“why?”

“you stood up for yourself,” he smiled, “in all the years i’ve known you, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you stand up for yourself - not even to max. that’s why.”

“thank you,” she mumbled, before grinning at him, “turns out getting fucked daily fills me with confidence - not just cock.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #fewtrell!sister #lando x fewtrell!reader #max fewtrell

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