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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 days ago

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Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human

Part One, Two

Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But it’s exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; it’s a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library.

Ring Ring

“Hello is anyone in here?....Well if you are I’m just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!”

Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize you’d taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.

“Did they…take a book?”

“T-t-they took four!”

“Oh, goodness!?”

Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasn’t bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a book…what was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.

“I-it’’s them!?? They’re coming back!”

“Eeek I’ll have to hide!”

Ring Ring

“If anyone’s here I’ll just do what I did last time.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.

“They nearly saw my tail!”

“T-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?”

The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.

“All rise for the great Stein!”

“Rest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.”

By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybrid—Stein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didn’t know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.

“I-i-i’m the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?”

“Wow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just can’t seem to find it.”

“T-t-t-that’s f-f-f-fine come with me.”

By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the town’s collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction section…that is until you.

“My lord what does this mean!?”

“Shall we stake them?!”

“Ritualize them?!”

“Entice them to join!?

“Enlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!”

Gasps fill the library basement.

“Can this be?”

“As the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!”

“That must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!”

“I should hope so.”

“With this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!”

“But we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!”

“We must begin planning immediately!”

Stein isn’t delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. He’s well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasn’t enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, it’s a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.

“(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?”

“You know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?”

“...I might have something…are you thinking of getting a dog?”

“Not necessarily but I’ve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it it’ll just keep happening.”

“Say it! Ask my lord!”

“What was that?”

“I-i-uh I’m not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a look…if you like?”

“That’s real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!”

“The steps to procuring Excalibur commences!”

“Shh!”

He figures if he’s happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to he’d rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped.

“See my lord we’ve brought you the enemy!”

“Mmmffff.”

“Oh my.”

“It will be your first of many meals—I mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.”

“I–yes that is the plan.”

“Now eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler you’ll be!”

“EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!”

Stein swallows a tired sigh, ‘a wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.’

“For your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excalibur’s wagon–forcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.”

“...I’ll need salt.”

“Yes, my lord!”

When he’s not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night he’s all so shy. It’s hard trying to connect with the human he’s got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicer—complimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. He’s happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market he’ll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And that’s when your neighbors and roommate aren’t getting in the way

“Don’t argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!”

“Please, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!”

“Yeah well appearance is every–”

“...” “...”

“Mutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

It’s so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. It’s almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace.

“W-what if we made a book-club, you and I?”

“I don’t think anyone would want to join. Not with me in it…”

“Mmm–”

“But I’d love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if that’s better!”

“T-t-t-that’s perfect!”

If he could get past his fears he’s sure he’d be a force to be reckoned with but he’d much rather go the way he’s going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, he’d love if it was all organic minus the cults help.

“I feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. I’m going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that it’s me you end up with, especially in this town.”

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pathologicalreid · 1 day ago

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the lost daughter | s.r.

in which JJ goes missing in the middle of the night, and Spencer's attempts to comfort you completely fall through

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: death, kidnapping, jareau!reader, takes place during 9x14 "200", caryatids, sibling loss, the british word count: 2.83k a/n: wrote this with my own sibling loss grief in mind so this is just me using fanfic as therapy. not sure if it's any good really. thanks for reading <3

You were already in the roundtable room by the time everyone came in, Penelope was making alarming faces at her laptop before she shook her head, “I’m trying,” she said. “I’m trying to pull data off of JJ’s phone, but it’s like level 9 security—it would make Snowden weep.”

Familiar hands settled on your shoulders, thumbs gently skimming over your collarbones as you watched the rest of the team sprawl around the room. “What about cell phone records?” Blake was next to speak, asking about your sister’s welfare when you couldn’t—too afraid of falling apart to so much as part your lips.

The look of desperation on Garcia’s face did nothing to comfort you, “Encrypted. JJ’s and Cruz’s.” With the disappointing news came a squeeze to your shoulders, Spencer’s silent attempt to comfort you without drawing too much attention to his movements.

Rossi shrugged, “That’s not surprising if they work for the State Department,” he reasoned, looking around the rest of the room.

You leaned back in the office chair, trying to remember how to place your feet on the ground, but it was hard when the soles of your shoes felt like a foreign sensation. “But if that assignment was a backstop,” Morgan started, “then JJ’s transfer as DOD Liaison was her cover.”

Spencer’s thumb ran from the base of your cervical spine to the base of your skull, working out a knot that had been there since you received a call from Will, asking if you knew where your sister was. “So, what was she really doing that year?” Spencer asked, the question sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, fear making your blood run cold.

“That’s the first question Hotch is gonna ask,” Derek answered, easily slipping into the role of team leader in Hotch’s absence. “Strauss was pressured by the executive branch to push JJ’s transfer through in 2010, so she would have known the reason why.”

Your eyes immediately flicked to Rossi, wondering if Erin Strauss had divulged any state secrets over the duration of their relationship together. Though, you imagined Strauss maintained her oath of secrecy, much like your sister had in the three years since her reassignment. “Any assignment that Strauss authorized would be archived in the SCIF,” Spencer responded, his thumb smoothing over the hair at the nape of your neck.

Garcia looked alarmed, “That facility is code word classified.” She glanced around the room as if she was already searching for new ideas, but Derek seemed convinced.

His head bobbed, “Okay, but Anderson can get you in. He archives those reports,” he began to outline a plan. “Blake, Rossi, JJ couldn’t have used the SCIF without drawing attention. She probably has it foxholed right here in the BAU. We just need to find it,” his head rotated, meeting the gaze of everyone in the room—except for you.

“And what are you not telling us?” Blake asked, slipping both of her hands into the pockets of her blazer.

Morgan’s eyes dropped to meet yours, and you already knew what was coming. “Whoever took Cruz and JJ is highly trained and highly organized. Justice, defense, and state—they wouldn’t be on edge like this if this was a simple matter of two missing agents,” he explained.

You stiffened at his response, and Spencer restarted his ministrations, dropping his hands to your shoulders and working on your shoulder blades. “Is Hotch worried that the recovery won’t be made a priority?” Rossi asked, eyes flittering to you—even though they tried to hide it, everyone was sparing you nervous glances.

“It’s our job to find the leverage that assures it is. Let’s get it done,” Morgan said, nodding his head confidently before allowing the room to disperse.

Shaking off Spencer’s touch, he let you go without a fight, knowing that you wouldn’t be going anywhere far while your sister was still missing. You ducked your head, letting your hair curtain around your face while you walked out of the BAU, vaguely aware of the muttering that followed in your wake.

You shoved your way through the glass doors and turned the corner, practically throwing yourself into Morgan’s office before pressing your back to the wall and sliding down the drywall.

Visualizing the movement of air in and out of your lungs, you tried to teach yourself how to breathe normally. Something that was usually autonomic required more focus than usual, your thoughts so preoccupied with fear that you had to make a conscious effort to inhale and exhale.

The overwhelming feeling of impending doom hadn’t struck you until just then, sitting in the roundtable with your team and being left to wonder what might happen if you can’t convince the state to save your sister. You would have to call your mom and tell her that she’d have to bury another one of her daughters, Henry would have to grow up without his mother, and you would become an only child.

You never had to worry about being alone because you always had your sister, particularly in your adult life when you moved to D.C. JJ made a point to be dependable, to be someone that you could rely on no matter what was going on in her life, and the situation you found yourself in made you wonder if you never reciprocated. Her assignment was classified, but you wondered if she had ever tried to clue you into what she was doing during her time at the Pentagon. You wondered if she would’ve told you even if it was permitted.

It seemed too cruel. Parents weren’t supposed to have to bury their children and sisters weren’t meant to end up alone. The world couldn’t possibly be cruel enough to take JJ from you—she was the only sister you had left.

She promised you, after Roslyn died, that she’d never leave you alone. It was the most vivid memory you had from that early in your childhood. That period of time, from the moment JJ found her in the bathroom to the date of the funeral, you could recall it with alarming accuracy. For the longest time, you thought they were all manufactured, something you had dreamt up as if you were on a therapist’s couch.

But it was real, the fighting, the blood, the necklace—all of it was so devastatingly real.

Morgan’s office was cold, your fingertips frigid in the dim lamplight, you hadn’t even noticed your shadow until he was lowering himself to the ground in front of you, crisscrossing his legs so you were level. He leaned his head forward and set his chin on your knee, his posture so bad it would make dignitaries cry, but it allowed him to meet your eyes even while your head was tilted down.

You put your hands in a praying gesture and slid them between your thighs to warm them up, making eye contact with Spencer while he wiped at the tears on your cheeks. “What’s going through your head right now?” His voice was gentle, he didn’t want to push you, he just wanted to hear from you.

“The British Museum,” you answered because your fears of catastrophe would just worry him more.

He chuckled lightly at your answer, acknowledging that that was the last thing he expected you to say. “Can I ask why?”

Splaying out your fingers, you felt the sensation of the rough denim of your jeans on your knuckles—two of them split from hand-to-hand combat. You leaned your head back, focusing on your surroundings for a moment—Morgan’s office always smelled like cologne and a little bit like old man, which Penelope thought was the ghost of the agent that Derek had inherited his office from. “She was stolen from her sisters so long ago, and now no matter what anyone says or does, they won’t give her back,” you told him, your voice suddenly weak.

Emotion made your throat swell, and the way Spencer was tenderly skimming his fingertips over your thigh wasn’t helping. “Won’t give who back, honey?”

“The Caryatid,” you said urgently as if the answer should’ve been obvious to him. His eyes widened in response, maybe it concerned him that you were relating to a statue, and maybe it was right for him to be worried about you.

Six statues, constructed to support the roof of the Erechtheion in Greece, named after Caryae, which was an ancient town of Peloponnese. Vitruvius said they were constructed to represent the women of the town, women who were enslaved because the town sided with Xerxes during his second invasion of Greece.

Six sisters, built to carry burdens and remind people of the sin committed by Caryatid women.

Five statues, residing in the Acropolis Museum for their own protection while their sister lives alone in the British Museum because she was stolen. Taken by Lord Elgin and despite the insistence of those all over the world, she’s never been returned.

You wondered if she missed her sisters. If the arm she was missing had broken off when she was taken hundreds of years ago, and they had stopped her from reaching out to the only home she had ever known. You knew you would rather detach your own arm than live without your sister, you couldn’t bear the thought of not being a sibling anymore.

“I’m still here,” you whispered, looking straight forward and letting fresh tears fall from your eyes, “and when they’re both dead and I’m still here—what do I do?”

Spencer’s expression was pained, it killed him to know that there was nothing he could do to take your hurt away, it killed him to notice the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes. “She’s not going to die,” he insisted with an uncharacteristic note of optimism in his voice, producing hope when you had already scraped the bottom of that barrel.

Your nostrils flared in frustration, “You can’t promise me that.”

He nodded, “We are going to get her back, okay? We’ll get your sister back for you, and that is a promise.” Sad brown eyes bored into you, a sense of urgency that you very rarely saw in Spencer.

You shook your head, pulling your knees closer to your chest, effectively pushing him away. “You can’t promise me that she won’t die, we don’t even know where she is,” you reminded him.

“Honey,” he breathed, the word dripping in desperation as he tried to get you to meet his eyes, but you were looking past him—through him. “Hey,” he tried again, reaching out and sweeping a lock of hair behind your ear, “Garcia and I are going to the SCIF with Anderson, and I think you should stay here. If you’re up to it, you can help Rossi and Blake look for the foxhole.”

Just like that, he was gone, seemingly unaffected by your rejection of his reassurance, Spencer walked out of the office, leaving the door open a crack behind him.

The worst part was that you had known that JJ’s assignment was a backstop. You knew that there was something deeper going on because you could see it in her, you knew her just as well as you knew yourself. At least you thought you did.

Your suspicions started when she needed you as an emergency contact, citing that her job needed someone outside of her household to be part of her file. The cagey phone calls and missed lunch dates only added to your suspicions, but she never caved. “Where were you, JJ?” You asked yourself, speaking into the emptiness of Morgan’s office.

JJ had left the BAU just before you joined, and at the time everything seemed like it just worked out. When she decided to return, you got to stay, and being able to work with your sister felt like a dream come true—something right out of a film.

You held your head in your hands, pushing at your cheeks with your palms and trying to convince yourself to get up. You couldn’t hold the roof up without your sister. There was no way you’d be able to avoid crumbling without her.

So, you got up.

You ducked your head as a bullet ricocheted off of the iron in front of you, the BAU scattered throughout the warehouse as the search for your sister climaxed. She had to be here, it had been too long, and Askari wouldn’t let her survive this. “He’s headed to the roof,” Rossi said, and you heard footsteps echoing through the orange-lit space.

“So’s JJ,” Blake added, nodding assuredly from a few steps away.

Your head snapped up quickly enough to catch a flash of golden hair as JJ ran through the warehouse, chasing Michael Hastings. Spencer tried to get you to wait, but by the time the words left his mouth, you had already broken off into a sprint and fell into a line behind your sister and Emily.

Keeping your firearm drawn, you follow them to the roof, catching up with your sister and Emily, a thousand words exchanged in that first glance between the two of you. You didn’t have time for a proper reunion, not with Emily peeking around the corner, trying to get a shot at Hastings.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard helicopter blades whirling, getting closer and closer to you. No one had the chance to speak before JJ was running again, rounding the corner and scaling the ladder along the side of the building.

It was left hand-to-hand, and once your sister had given him enough momentum, you had to lunge forward to catch her. Hastings nearly dragged her off of the building with him, but you and Emily caught her, grabbing her hands and hauling her off of the ledge.

The three of you stood in a circle, looking around at each other as if no time had passed, as if Emily hadn’t flown here from London just to find her. “JJ,” you breathed, desperate for something, anything. The universe punished you for catastrophizing by watching the pain set in, JJ’s adrenaline faded now that she wasn’t in the midst of a chase, and the pain of the last several hours was able to show through.

You were about to offer to get down, to find her somewhere quiet to sit, but before you could, she hugged you. JJ nearly launched herself at you and gave you what you so desperately needed—your sister.

“It’s okay,” you said, pressing your face into her shoulder and letting your tears dry as quickly as they fell. “I’ve got you, J,” you assured her, your eyes flickering up to meet Emily’s, concern plain in her furrowed brow.

Slowly, the two of you got JJ off of the roof, and you met up with the rest of the team at the front door. You watched silently as everyone exchanged hugs with your sister, and you kept an eye on her even as she spoke with Cruz in the ambulance.

A familiar hand found its home on your waist, and you subconsciously leaned into Spencer’s touch, “She should go to the hospital.”

You scoffed, “Good luck convincing her of that,” you responded, raising your eyebrows as Hotch helped JJ down from the rig.

Just as you thought, she fought you on it, refusing to get in the back of an ambulance, but being okay with someone else driving her there. The only stipulation was that she needed to call Will first, and he could meet her at the hospital.

“How are you?” Spencer asked, leaning on the passenger door of an SUV while you kept an eye on your sister, watching her talk to Will and tell him that she’s fine.

JJ would always be fine. To someone else, that might’ve been enough, but you knew her better than that. Something was bothering her, but you feared it would take more than one conversation for you to get it out of her. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, trying to absorb his body heat into yours.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he insisted, dropping a soft kiss to the roof of your head.

Slumping your shoulders in disappointment, you looked up at him, “I shouldn’t have gotten so frustrated with you.”

Spencer is silent for a moment, shoving his hands in the pockets of his FBI jacket, “You were so scared, worse than I’ve ever seen you. Worse than you were when you were abducted, and I just wanted to reassure you. You were right though; I shouldn’t have promised.”

You shook your head, smiling up at him, “You were right. We did find her. You kept your promise.”

“I’m not really in the business of making promises that I can’t keep,” Spencer responded, cupping your face with his hands.

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes flickered over to JJ again, “Maybe you should be, you have a 100% success rate.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #jareau!reader #margovember

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eimearkuopio · 16 hours ago

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I didn't know it was a trilogy of songs until just before I lost my head. I put the first and third ones on my playlist for Catholicism.

(That one is for former enemies. Not the church as a whole, but there's at least one person this very much applies to.)

And of course the absolute banger released with perfect timing that I hope every senior religious person in the world gets to hear on a loop:

As for me? Another perfectly timed release of a banger:

Rambling about past month or so behind the cut.

Nobody else believed I would come back from what I was going through the whole time. But for me, I'd been through worse before with much less support. I once spent a month hiding in my brother's apartment playing video games and eating take-out. I'd lost too many people too fast to do anything else. I spent a month in second year of undergrad completely fallen apart, and nobody noticed - or if they noticed, they couldn't find a way to help that wasn't haranguing me into studying. People are amazed that I'm doing so much better in "so little" time, and it's because they never noticed how fucked up I always was. In their eyes, I was too perfect to have disabilities, to need extra support. My husband loves me enough to have held out hope that I could get better, because he knew full well that I was always a mess under the skin. I'm so grateful for him. He's the reason I bothered sticking around. And it fucking sucks that I'm still a mess, but I'm going to keep trying. For him. For us. We're worth it. But how did the whole world fail to pull through when I worked hard so to come back to it? Is this the best the world can do? I never have to feel responsible for the fate of the world again, because whatever I was supposed to do, I did to the best of my ability, and now I just need to do my best for me and my special loved ones. But I can't understand why the world turned out the way it did. People didn't think we would make it this far, and I can't understand why history keeps repeating itself...

Watch this guy who just played Portal for the first time absolutely lose his mind at the end credits song

youtube

#Spotify

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sugarnspice630 · 2 days ago

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Hey! I really enjoy your writing and audios 😊 So I saw something on instagram the other day about if Ateez will one day do a thirst tweets video. Got me thinking, and so if Ateez did thirst tweets, what kind of tweets do you think each member would have and what would be their reactions??

Thrist Tweets - Ateez Edition

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA ANON!!! I'd be happy to provide some tweets I think they'd get to read! I scoured the internet to find the best official Atiny thirst tweets I could find. Let me know if your account is featured! Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Yunho:

"Oh!" Yunho remarks softly and places his hand over his mouth and leans off to the side. His face and ears turning a bright red as he giggles at the reaction image from the Atiny. "I know a lot of Atiny like my hands so... I'll continue to do my best to show them off to you." He pauses while looking at the camera, purses his lips together and nods softly.

Yeosang:

His mouth curls into a small o shape and he chuckles lightly. Yeosang stares at the phone for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, till the words "Oh my-!" roll out of his mouth. "Oh...my Atiny. I'm afraid I might hurt you if I do that."

Seonghwa:

"That's quite a list." Seonghwa rereads the tweet in front of him. A soft toothy smirk appears on his face and he looks up at the camera through his eyebrows. "Perhaps we can make that happen, yeah?" His one eyebrow rises at the end of the sentence, then a full fledged smile comes across his face, embarrassed by how he just responded.

Hongjoong:

Hongjoong cracks the biggest smile he can, with all of his teeth showing. His eyes squeezing shut as he leans forward in a silent laugh. "Just...hit me up." He raises his hand, sticking out his pinky and thumb to make a telephone, over to his ear and shakes it while smirking slyly. "I'll make myself available just for you."

Wooyoung:

He stays quiet while reading over the tweet a few more times. He softly bites his lip and squints his eyes, trying desperately to think of a clever response. "Sounds like you're hungry for some breakfast....I can bring the sausage." His tongue glides across his lip and he catches it in his teeth, leaving it stick out a little.

San:

"Oh?" He shuts his eyes tightly and purses his lips, trying to hide his laughter at the reaction picture. He puts his hand into a fist and covers his mouth, looking off to the side, blush spreading onto his cheeks. "If this is what Atiny want, I'll continue to make my chest look incredible for you." He says as he places his arm over his pecs, one hand gripping his defined chest.

Mingi:

"So you're the one who did that?" He chuckles lightly, thinking back to the Bouncy music video. "Perhaps I could turn myself in to you? You keep the money and just take me as the reward." He raises his eyebrow towards the camera with a straight face and then busts out into laughter.

Jongho:

"You don't think I know how attractive I am?" He pauses and pouts towards the camera, putting up a fake facade of being hurt by the comment. His facial expression drops as his tone gets more serious. "No no no...I'm just saving your heart from not being able to take my full potential."

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @myloveforyunho @ywtfvs @meowmeeps @tinyelfperson @httpseungmxn @acupoftaewithsomesuga @tiredlittlevirgo @no1likevie @arki-sha @yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @sugawara-levi @skzooluvr @hongjng8

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kpop writers #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #kpop #ateez fic #ateez reactions #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #thirst tweets #sugarnspice630

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gyuspell · 3 days ago

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Mingyu is so mean when he’s horny. Having you bent over the counter in the shared dorm’s kitchen, large fingers moving inside of your wet cunt harshly, his other hand over your mouth as you both stared at the other members watching tv, unknowing of what’s happening in the kitchen. Mingyu pressed himself on your ass as he bent over to whisper in your ear “such a little slut~…taking my fingers like a good girl, aren’t you?”…

You whimper in response as your mind became foggy from the pleasure. Mingyu chuckled and curled his fingers so he hit that certain spot, your legs trembling and barely being able to hold the weight of your body up. “I know you can squirt baby~” Mingyu Cooes in your ear playfully as he leans down and presses soft wet kisses on your neck. Your eyes crossed as your cunt started to gush around Mingyu’s fingers, squirting against the palm of his hand…

Mingyu let out a satisfying growl as he pulled his fingers out and rubbed your clit harshly before he landed a couple of slaps against your sensitive cunt, turning your skin red and forcing you to squirt more. “What would the others say if they knew you were in here squirting like a little slut for me?~huh?” Mingyu asked in a teasing tone as he let his fingers run up and down your wet cunt, your hips trembling and jerking every time his fingers would run along your swollen clit…

“Such a good girl~ you deserve the world” Mingyu cooed at your again as he slapped your cunt again, causing you to moan against his hand again and your body to jerk forward a little. He chuckled and started to grind his hardened bulge against your soaking core “look what you did baby~do you feel it?” Mingyu said softly as he kissed your neck more, leaving little love bites all over your shoulders so you could hide them from the media…

#kpop #kpop smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen mingyu smut #seventeen mingyu

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ninupi · 2 days ago

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firsts | s. nagi

₊˚⊹♡ tw; fem!reader, sloooow burn(?) lol, making out,a little suggestive towards the end, slight insecurities, mention of reader wearing a skirt(?), like one mention of reo, nagi being a bit negligent lol

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 1600+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; omg my first fic/drabble(idk ahhhh) please leave lots of feedback, just dont be too mean ;( anyways please enjoy lol. also idk just thought about how nagi would act within the first few months of you guys dating, also I didnt mean for it to drag on for so long(?) but I dont feel like nagi would just jump straight into it either loll also I quickly proofread so there may be some mistakes but ill go through again thoroughly later!

You and nagi had only been dating for two months, for you at least. When you had confessed he also confessed that he thought that the two of you were already dating. But after a long talk you figured everything out, only now he still acts the same way with you.

It doesn't necessarily bother you, but you do get a bit antsy whenever your friends ask about how things are going between the two of you. Especially when it gets into the territory of kissing, you're not even sure if the thoughts crossed nagi's mind.

The thought has been plaguing your mind since you woefully admitted to your friends that the two of you haven't even shared your first kiss & there being no sign of it happening soon.

They had teased you the rest of the lunch period saying things like "that's what you get for going for a guy like him" and although they had a point it still kind of bothered you.

But sitting here now, you understand what your friends mean. You had asked nagi to give you an hour to finish your homework then you'd hang out with him. Unlike him, who waits to the last minute to do his homework & still getting perfect marks, you actually had to pay attention.

He whined but eventually plopped on your bed distracting himself with a game on his phone. Now you've been sitting at your desk for 30 minutes while he tells you "one more round..."

"You said that the last round nagi" you groan standing up to stretch your legs, he doesn't respond too focused on his phone. He gives you brief glance over when you shove his legs a bit further onto your bed to take a seat but quick goes back to his phone.

"Last one, swear- shit" you try to hide the grin on your face when you see the red reflecting off his snowy hair. He groans while shutting his phone off & laying it on his chest with his other arm draped over his eyes.

"Last round, right?" you tease while softly rubbing his shin "yeah, last round" he mutters not bothering to look at you. You stay there for a moment just looking at him when he finally peaks at you from under his arm.

"What's wrong?" you shrug your shoulders, you were thinking about what it'd be like to finally kiss him but you weren't going to tell him that. "reo was making fun of me earlier today" he says off handedly now staring at your ceiling.

"Why was he making fun of you?" you question unsure of what his best friend would be teasing him about "because I told him we haven't kissed yet" nagi notices immediately how your hand on his leg halts it's movement but doesn't say anything.

"My friends too, at lunch today" you quietly admit wondering if your response would bother him "Does it bother you?" he questions, unsure how to answer you stare at him "That we haven't kissed" he clarified making you smile.

"I know what you meant...but a little bit" you sigh not wanting to look at him, too embarrassed. "Me too" he sighs looking back up at your ceiling, maybe he's embarrassed too. The two of you sit in silence for what feels like hours before you finally decide to make a move.

Nagi peeks at you from the corner of his eye when you slide further back onto the bed and throw one of your legs over his. And when you start too crawl up to him he finally lifts his head off the pillow.

"What are you doing?" he mutters laying his head back down when your face is right in front of his "I don't know...you don't want to kiss?" You're not too sure why you've started to whisper, it's not like your parents are home.

When he doesn't answer you, you let out a soft sigh "this really hurts you know" you mutter motioning towards your arms while you were basically in a plank position above him "sit down then" he states obviously, grabbing your waist and forcing you sit on his lap.

You slightly hover, not wanting to have him bare your full weight, and mildly embarrassed by the position you two are now in. You can feel him staring at your face while you fidget with your hands, unsure of where to place them.

You only look at him when he grabs both of your hands and places them right above his stomach, which you take note of how sturdy it is. Although he doesn't look it, or act like it, he's quite athletic and his body is just proof of it.

"You're the one who climbed onto my lap but now you seem shy" he says in a bored tone while placing his hands on your knees that rested by his waist. "Well you didn't seem interested...and I dont know what to do now." Sometimes in the back of your mind you wonder if nagi even actually likes you.

"I got nervous too you know" he mutters looking away, the tips of his ears red. You smile to yourself because you feel the thought leaving your mind, leaning down you hover right over his face again.

"You're so cute you know" your smile widens when he gives you a gross look "I'm not cute" you mindlessly nod, giving him a soft peck on the cheek. Embarrassed by your action you bury your face into his neck which he tries to move away from.

"That tickles stop" he sighs grabbing your face and pulling you back up to face him again. Now staring at each other you're unsure if you should say something, but before you could he leaned up a bit a pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

After pulling away after a few seconds you immediately hide in his neck again. "Stop that, it tickles" he whines placing his hands firmly on your waist trying to flip you over. "Ok ok! I'll stop I just wasn't expecting that, plus I'm wearing a skirt"

You sigh now fully sitting on his lap while brushing your hands over your face which feels a bit flush. "That was barely a kiss what're you so worked up for?" You quickly look down at him with your jaw dropped.

"You are so red right now, don't even! Should I take a picture to show you?" you laugh reaching for his phone which he quickly stops "No no, but you're acting like I shoved my tongue in your mouth or something." He huffed hugging you to his chest with your arms under you to stop you from taking a picture.

"I just really like you..." you shyly admit while wiggling your arms underneath him to hug him. You can feel his heart beating rapidly underneath you when he lets out a deep sigh "Me too"

You lift your head just enough to look at him, his face still just as red as before and send him a small smile before pressing you lips to his again. This time the kiss lingers for a bit before either of you move away, and when you do he's immediately chasing you for another.

This continues for a few minutes before he gets tired of it and raises one hand to grab your jaw. And this time when he kisses you he moves a head a bit to deepen the kiss, you shift a bit on his lap when your lips start to melt together.

He's first to pull away a bit breathless with a dazed look in his eyes "You ok?" you softly laugh reaching out to rub his cheek and brush a few hairs out of his face, he barely answers you before leaning in again a bit more eager this time.

You let a deep breath out into the kiss when you feel him grip your waist hastily while he's bucking his hips a bit to get more comfortable. And when you feel his tongue prod at your bottom lip you pull away.

"Sorry, didn't mean to do- it's ok I don't mind" You softly laugh looking at him feeling giddy about finally making out with your boyfriend. He gives you a pout while bringing you back down "Then why'd you stop me?" but before you could answer him his lips were back on yours.

He didn't hesitate to lick your bottom lip this time, almost doing it with more emphasis this time hoping you'll let him in. And when you do you can feel him slightly smile into the kiss while his hands roam your back.

Still not too sure where to put your hands, you leave them perched on his shoulders while slightly fiddling with his shirt. You're too distracted to really care and you doubt he cares either. And while his tongue roams your mouth you feel your hips pressing down a bit harder onto his lap.

He pulls away for a split second just to catch his breath but before you can say anything his lips are back on yours. You want to tell him off for not letting you speak but you opt to enjoy the kiss for now.

But when he goes to kiss you with tongue again you beat him to it and experimentally lick into his mouth. Your eyes widen in shock when he lets out a loud groan while bucking his hips up into yours.

You quickly pull away unable to hide your smile and he immediately groans knowing you're about to tease him. But before you can say anything your phone begins to ring and when you look over at it you see your parents contact.

You let out a softly sigh at the moment being cut short while reaching over for your phone. "funs over" you frown showing him the contact before answering, he just lets out a quiet groan while throwing his head back into your pillows.

#ninupi #writing #fem reader #navigation #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock x female reader #bllk x reader #bllk x female reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro fluff #seishiro nagi #reo mikage #bllk nagi #bllk reo #blue lock fanfiction

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kneazle · 5 hours ago

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Sal stood outside of the hospital room, placing his body directly in front of the closed door blocking anyone from entering. As he saw them coming down the hall with Buckley in the lead he placed his feet steady on the floor, crossed his arms over his chest, and straightened himself to his full height.

They stopped short at the sight of him.

"Sal?" Chimney blinked in shock, glancing at Hen and Nash so quick he might have missed it if his gaze wasn't so focused on them all.

He narrowed his eyes. "Nice to see you too, Chimney."

"I just- don't you live on the other side of the country now?"

"I moved back recently," Sal said, not saying anything further on the matter. None of them needed to know about his wife passing, of moving back to LA with his daughter to escape all the memories that were becoming suffocating. "What are all of you doing here?" He said, eyeing them.

Buckley who looked fit to burst, stepped forward. "How- how is he?" He asked, eyes darting from the door and back to Sal, fingers fidgeting.

"Lucky," Sal said, jaw clenched. "He broke his arm, some ribs, they had to fix some internal bleeding, and he has some nasty bruises."

He seemed to deflate at Sal's words, the only person he didn't know reached over to take hold of Buckley's arm. "What I don't get is why any of you are here."

Buckley flinched back at the words and the man he didn't know narrowed his gaze at Sal before speaking. "We're here to see Tommy."

"Really? Wouldn't have known," He said sarcastically. "What I mean is, none of you have been there for him in the last three months. I get it, Buckley is your boy and Chimney in your case family- but Tommy was your friend long before he came into your life, but what does that matter huh?"

He watched all of them shift, guilt crossing most of their faces as Nash only frowned. Sal told himself he would keep control, but anger rose in his chest the more he stood in front of them, remembering the way Tommy mourned more than just the loss of his boyfriend because of his choice. "Tommy made a mistake and was an idiot don't get me wrong, but all of you were real quick to drop him and he might not have a whole posse behind him like Buckley obviously does, but he has me now, and as far as I'm concerned none of you deserve to step foot in this room."

"Deluca-"

"No," Sal interrupted, jaw clenched. "You aren't changing my mind, Captain Nash."

"Please!" Buckley burst out, a look of panic setting over his face. "I- I promise I won't yell or upset him, I just need to see him with my own eyes."

Sal felt bad for the kid, he did, it wasn't his fault Tommy had been broken too many times and got scared. He opened his mouth to tell him no, when a voice coming from the other side of the hall spoke first. "Sal, let Buck in at least," Lucy stepped near him, handing him a coffee. "You know Tommy wouldn't be happy if he found out you prevented Buck from seeing him," He huffed, taking a long sip from the cup, purposely stretching his response out. Lucy sighed in annoyance. "Look, do I support Tommy's choice? No, but the only person going in that room is Buck. The rest of you? A simple text asking someone how they are, takes two damn seconds. You didn't have to be buddies anymore, not if you didn't want to, but fuck would it have hurt to show some compassion for a man who you claimed was a friend only a day before?"

Silence settled over them all. Sal lifted his cup, hiding his smirk behind it at the rage seeping into Lucy's voice.

"We didn't mean to-" The one Sal didn't know the name of began to speak. Diaz, he thinks, trying to recall from Tommy's stories.

"Sure you didn't," Lucy spoke over him, a snap to the words. "Buck, you can go in."

Sal sighed but moved away from the door. Buckley nodded his thanks, head hung low as he moved, multiple emotions filtering across his face. He stopped when stepping beside Sal, turning to face him and Lucy with watery eyes. "Thank you you two...for being there for him." He ducked into the room and shut the door behind him.

Okay, maybe he wouldn't mind if Buckley stuck around. It was clear he still cared about Tommy, and that was enough for Sal.

Hours later after he knew they talked, Sal leaned against the doorway. Buckley sat in the chair as close to the bed as possible with his head laying on it sleeping with Tommy, hands held tight with their fingers laced together, both of their faces looked completely relaxed as tense and sadness turned to healing.

Sal nodded to himself and turned away, closing the door behind him.

"He's going to be okay," Lucy told him, moving away from leaning against the wall. "They aren't letting each other go again."

"I damn well hope not," Sal grumbled.

She chuckled, and swung her arm around his shoulders, leading him away. "Let's go get some breakfast from the diner for dinner."

"You're fucking weird," Sal told her with a scoff.

Lucy grinned, not offended in the least. "You said the same thing about Tommy but you love us. Now come on big guy, you're paying!" She moved away from him quickly with a laugh.

Sal gaped before taking off after her. "Like hell I am!"

#I wanted tommy to have people #and this happened #sal deluca #lucy donato #tommy kinard #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley

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knottedhearts · 3 days ago

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Roblox: B.E

Summary: You're Billie's girlfriend making her record a YouTube video for her to play the Mimic.

With the camera set up on your desk and recording, you watched as Billie settled into your computer chair, rolling her eyes at you playfully. "Alright, babe," she said with a smirk, "but if this game’s as scary as you say it is, you’re totally paying for my therapy bill."

You grinned, leaning over her shoulder. “I’ll take full responsibility, don’t worry. Plus, your fans will love this side of you—Billie the Brave, showing up to face Roblox monsters.”

She laughed, running a hand through her hair. “Sure, Billie the Brave, let’s go with that,” she said, shaking her head. “But if I scream, you’re officially the worst girlfriend ever.”

“Gladly accepting that title,” you teased, leaning against the desk as she started navigating her character through the dark, eerie corridors of The Mimic.

A few minutes in, the suspenseful silence was getting to her. She glanced over at you, her face showing a mix of skepticism and nerves. “So, is there like… a monster hiding somewhere? Because if you don’t warn me, I swear, babe, we’re done.”

You laughed, holding up your hands innocently. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you unprepared. Just keep going.”

She rolled her eyes but continued. Then, right on cue, a terrifying monster screeched and rushed at her character from the shadows. Billie let out a scream, throwing herself back in the chair as her hands flew to her chest.

“Holy crap!” she gasped, breathless. “Why didn’t you actually warn me, you jerk?”

Unable to stop laughing, you caught it all on camera. “Oh my god, this is gold. Your fans are gonna lose it when they see this side of you, baby.”

“Oh, stop it!” she said, her cheeks pink as she tried to swat at you. “And turn that camera off! There’s no way I’m letting them see me scream at Roblox.”

“Oh, babe, this is staying,” you teased, leaning in closer with a mischievous grin. “I can already picture the edits—like a ‘Billie Scream Compilation’ or something.”

She covered her face with one hand, laughing despite herself. “You’re seriously the worst girlfriend ever, you know that?”

“The very worst,” you agreed, smiling as you nudged her. “Want to keep going? Or should we turn off the ‘horror movie’?”

She narrowed her eyes at you playfully. “You’re asking for it, sweetheart. And you’re definitely playing next.”

You shrugged, keeping your smirk. “Bring it on. But, remember—I don’t scream.”

“Uh-huh, we’ll see about that, tough guy,” she teased, laughing as she turned back to the game.

With each new scare, she jumped and let out a squeal or two, and every time, you couldn’t hold back from laughing. “Oh, c’mon, babe. I thought you were brave?”

“Oh, hush,” she muttered, but she was laughing, too. “Keep teasing me and I’m kicking you out of your own chair.”

You laughed, leaning in close and giving her a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. “If it means I get to keep recording this, it’s worth it, baby.”

#billie eilish #billieeilish #pov #hit me hard and soft #wlw #wlw post #billie eilish x you #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish x reader #roblox #the mimic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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A Touch of Sweetness 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I can’t wait to try one,” you beam at the tarts on the cooling rack.

“Why don’t you?” Queenie asks as she wipes her hands on her apron.

“Well, it’s only polite we let others try them, right? Thor? Loki?”

“Oh, I don’t know if we should bother them right now,” she puts her hand behind her. “I’m sure they’ll find us when they’re ready.”

“Uh, yeah, makes sense,” you raise your shoulders to your ears. “Sorry.”

“Please, don’t be. I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“Me either,” you smile. “I feel like that a lot. My sister always makes me the odd one out. Her and her friends.”

“Oh, really. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. I don’t want to tell on myself but I’m really happy we met. I hope... we can be friends.” You chew your lip as you look around.

“We already are, aren’t we?” She asks.

Your cheeks hurt as you smile gets even bigger, “really?”

“Sure. You think I bake for anyone but friends?” She snorts. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not much of a homemaker.”

“No, you have to be! You always look so nice,” you insist.

“Ha, yeah, well... that’s what they like,” she swallows.

“They?” You wonder.

“Ladies,” Thor’s booming voice thunders in and you whip around to face him. “I smell something sweet.”

Queen mumbles but doesn’t respond clearly. You perk up, “tarts! They’re all done, if you want to try some.”

“Tarts,” he echoes in excitement and claps his hand, “I was of the mind for a different sort of sugar,” he steps around you and nears Queenie. He puts his large hands on her shoulders and draws her into a kiss. You avert your gaze embarrassed. “But a dessert would be nice too.”

You shift and wave at the tray of pastries. “If Loki wants some, there’s a lot to go around.”

“My brother? No, he disappeared a while ago. So is his nature,” he plucks a tart from the array. “But perhaps we will set one aside for him.”

“Okay,” you agree as Queenie turns and wipes the counter. She’s already done that but she seems to prefer the distraction.

Thor bites into tart, nearly taking half of it. He purrs and nods. “Very delicious.”

“She did most of the work,” Queenie says over her shoulder.

“We both did a lot,” you counter. “Really, it’s good?”

“Haven’t you tried one?” He asks through his mouthful.

“Not yet.” You turn and carefully cradle one. You lift it over your cupped hand to catch the crumbs and bite into it. “Mmm.”

“Queenie, please, you must,” Thor turns with what’s left of his and offers it to her. She turns to him and hesitates. She lets him feed her the tart and chews tightly.

She hums and hides her mouth behind her hand, “very good.”

“Well, it seems you’ve been quite productive,” Thor praises. “You should show sweetness around. Give her a lay of the land. Have a bit of fun. Can’t save it all for the night time, eh?”

He winks and she bats her lashes bashfully, “sure, um, come on,” she brushes by him and grabs your wrist. “I’ll show you the garden. It’s my favourite place.”

“Aside from the bed,” Thor chortles.

She squeezes you tight as she drags you away. It’s cute how much he loves her but you imagine you’d be just as embarrassed. You go with her easily, chewing on what’s left of your tart.

“You’ll have to take some with you,” she says. “I can’t possibly eat so many.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she takes you through the back door and finally stops. You can sense her dismay.

“Are you okay?” You free yourself from her grasp and touch her shoulder. She winces.

“Fine,” she insists and crosses her arms. She marches ahead of you. “Just need some fresh air. It was getting warm in the kitchen.” She stops and glances back at you. “I don’t know how you’re not dying in that.”

You look down at your turtleneck and shrug, “guess I’m used to it.” You follow her and glance around. The yard is huge. There’s a pool and grotto, a canopy over a dining set, a gazebo at the far corner surrounded by lush rose bushes, flowers at the middle arranged around the immense fountain. It’s like a fairytale.

“This is so...”

“I know, it’s beautiful,” she agrees as if it’s a bad thing. “Do you want to see the birds?”

“Birds?”

She nods and beckons you after her. She takes you toward the gazebo and around to the rear corner of the yard. The stone wall is woven over with vines and you can hear the steady cheep within. Bright yellow heads poke in and out as wings rustle through the leaves.

“Wow!” You say.

“He gets them imported,” she explains. “Pretty but... stuck here...”

“They can fly away.”

“They are tracked,” she sighs. “Not that they get very far with clipped wings.”

You frown, “oh.”

“Well...” she sniffs, “things are a bit nicer with someone to share them with,” she stands beside you. “Aren’t they?”

You agree with a nod and gape at the wall of birds nesting between the vines. After a while, you trail after her into the gazebo and play on the wooden chessboard inside. The air smells like pollen. You while away the time, enjoying the lull as the breeze gently flows through the arches.

“Checkmate. I think.” You say.

She clicks her tongue, “yes.”

“Wow, I never played before,” you snicker.

“Don’t be a sore winner,” she sticks her tongue out.

“I’m not,” you retort.

“Well, maybe I’m a sore loser,” she pouts.

You laugh and when she does, you laugh even louder. It’s infectious as the two of you giggle in the curtained dim of the gazebo.

“Ahem,” the clearing of the throat also clears the air. You choke on your laughter and look in tandem to the shadow in the doorway. “I was told I am to return you to your home.”

Loki stands with a placid expression. Despite his unaffected demeanour, you notice that a strand of his hair has fallen forward away from the rest of his neatly combed locks and there’s a dark stain on his collar.

“Oh, already?” You wonder.

He checks the watch on his wrist, “my brother said so. It is after dinner time. I believe he has plans with his... companion.”

Queenie rises, “maybe next time you can stay.”

“Hm, yes, maybe next time,” Loki repeats deliberately. “Come on then. I’ve not got all night.”

You stand and give an apologetic smile, “bye, Queenie,” you murmur as she passes Loki. You follow her and stop just before him. “Did you have a tart?”

“A tart?” His brows arch.

“In the kitchen. We baked tarts.”

“Mm, perhaps another time,” he drawls. “Let us not linger.”

“Yes, sir,” you agree and wait for him to move. He doesn’t. You stare at each other. Finally, he shifts and extends his arm to gesture you out ahead of him. “Thanks,” you bounce past him and down the steps. “Oh look, you can see the moon already.” You point ahead as you cross the lawn ahead of him.

“Mm,” he follows you at a pace. “Suppose that is rather amusing.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #series #drabble #a touch of sweetness #au #mob au #marvel #mcu #avengers #thor

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mejaemin · 13 hours ago

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easy- lee jeno

wc: 0.8k

summary: loving lee jeno comes so easy to you

warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, implied fem reader, definitely not proofread or edited im to emotional for all that bs rn

an: piece of advice to everyone- love is NOT easy despite what im saying in this fic :( im literally in the trenches rn feeling like crying every second over a man i have yet to even speak to !! this drabble is the product of my emotions and what i WISH love felt like for me so i hope you all enjoy this little thing ab one of my comfort people :>

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

loving jeno has always come easy.

it’s nearly second nature when you lift your head up or your energy picks up just from sensing his presence in a room. you don’t even notice how your head ends up on his shoulder whenever you sit together, or how easy it is to say “i love jeno!” whenever he’s brought up when he’s not around. it’s so easy to excuse the emptiness in your heart for having a bad day when it’s really because he’s not with you, and on top of that not even in a romantic way.

loving jeno comes so easy to you that when your friends accuse you of being in love with him, your heart rate quickens and your cheeks heat as you quickly shoot down the idea. it’s so easy and so natural that whenever you’re upset you look at old videos and photos of him your smile comes back like it never left. whenever you miss him you can ask to facetime or for him to send a photo and he always says yes.

loving jeno is so easy that when you call him your favorite nickname, jenjen, that he always says he hates, you feel a sense of pride knowing he won’t let anyone else call him that. when you ask him to get something or do something for you, he’ll do it without question, but if your friends ask that of him he’ll say for them to do it themselves. your heart flutters at the exclusivity of his affections.

loving jeno is so easy that you always know how he feels or what he needs. for almost any of your other friends, you have a folder in your notes app that consists of their likes and dislikes or any other info on them. with jen you don’t even have to think twice about it. there’s a pout on his lips? you already know to scoot next to him and give him a hug. he’s upset? all he wants is your company. let him rest his head in your lap and maybe take a nap. don’t worry about asking him to let his thoughts out, you already know he will when he’s ready and you’re the only set of ears his worries will fall upon.

loving jeno is so easy that when you finally come to terms with your feelings, things make a little more sense. your ongoing question of why you care so much for your best friend finally has an answer; you’re in love with him. when you meet with him again, you don’t even feel nervous at this crush, you feel confident that no matter how things go, he’ll never leave your side.

loving jeno comes so easy to you that the next time you hang out, you’re not as responsive because you’re hung up on how to confess. you know that even if the outcome isn’t what you want, you’ll still be together but you want to make sure you say it in a way you won’t regret. you care so much for him you want to make sure you say it the right way. however, when he puts a hand on your thigh and asks if you’re okay with the sweetest, most concerned look in his eyes, it all spills out and your strategic confession falls apart.

“..jeno?” you ask softly.

“what is it? don’t be scared, you know you can tell me anything.” your nickname falls off his tongue so smoothly that your fear of rejection finally comes and you nearly tear up.

“jen i really can’t hide it anymore so i just have to tell you okay? please don’t be mad i don’t care what your response is just listen, okay? i really, really like you jen. more than a friend does. at this point, i’m already sure i love you. i don’t care whether or not you reciprocate, because i really just love you so much.” you sniffle, a tear dropping from your eye. “i really can’t hold it in so i’m sorry, but i love you so much and i really want to be more than just your best friend so please-“ jeno cuts you off with a soft call of your name, your real one.

“please, you didn’t have to work yourself up so much. i feel the same way. i should’ve been more obvious.. don’t you know i’m only this way with you?” he smiles, the hand on your thigh moving up to your cheek to wipe your tears.

loving jeno comes so easy to you that when he leans in and your lips finally connect, your heart is finally full. all the broken pieces of your life come together and you feel complete, like you have nothing else to want or wish for, because now you have your best friend. in every way you wanted, he’s now yours.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

#mejaemin #nct #nct dream #drabble #nct drabbles #lee jeno #nct jeno #nct dream jeno #jeno nct dream #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno x you #best friends to lovers

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caffeinatedmunchkin · 2 days ago

Text

La Petite Mort

Emmrich Volkarin x Fem!Rook ✦ Rating: M (MDNI!) ✦ 7.8k words

The moment for discomfiture had come to pass. The obligation of responsibility to quell her suffering too great to ignore, he inspected her as a hunter might a downed prey. One his misplaced strike fell short of fatal, she bleated and wriggled much like a wounded animal. She was in pain. She needed him to put her down. "You poor thing. You are struggling, aren't you..." Spoken softly, more so to himself in observation, than acknowledgement of her plight. Wrought with sympathy. "Please." Holding herself propped up by the elbow, her body stretched out languid and malleable before him. Ripe for his indulgence. "It's just been so long, and I've h-had maybe... a bit too much to drink." The admittance airing on sheepish, she then gave her best purr of seduction. "I'm finding myself... distracted." The rich mocha of his eyes glimmered with something wicked. A shift in the gentleman Watcher, something she had yet to witness. "Allow me, then, my darling, to realign your focus."

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Crossposted to AO3!

*pspspsps at the Emmrich brats* come get tamed!

I told myself I wasn't going to write for Emmrich but I guess that was a big fat lie. Ya'll keep saying how he'd talk you through it, writing this filth was the only way I was gonna exorcise that demon. Writing characters OOC is my worst nightmare, I did my best. Let me know your thoughts on whether I was successful or not. Enjoy 😘

Rook floundered as she regarded her circle of companions, struggling to uplift those around her as her spirit was the lowest of them all. To her credit she wore her bravest face, and commended each and every one of them for their displayed strengths in their respective roles. A reluctant heroine who found leadership ill-suited and cumbrous.

Weisshaupt had yet to retract its claws. Emmrich noticed her energy waning, the tension in her thin shoulders festering. Her posture heavy with fatigue.

They were all on edge, but none shouldered a greater burden than her. The wayward little Watcher that held too much regret in the delicate lines of her young face.

Hazarding just a few glances her way during the meeting, each time displayed the same weariness she failed to hide. He wracked his brain for possible solutions to help ease her strain, but he kept falling short.

He would have known just how obvious his course of action should be, if only he knew where to look.

If he had given proper credence to her coy remarks, and coquettish body language. If he accepted that her freely given touch - nimble fingers grazing his elbow, the small of his back - were held longer with him, than the others.

If he hadn't been so consumed by his strict notions of gallantry, in accordance with his branding of her as the proverbial forbidden fruit. Securely out of reach, it was a pedestal he placed her on before he joined The Veilguard. Well before they had even been formally introduced.

Emmrich had suggested, with enough vagueness to spare himself from too much guilt, that he hadn't remembered seeing her before. To his relief, she corroborated his version of their story in kind.

A delicious discrepancy. A secret they each believed they held over the other.

"Have we really never met around the Necropolis before? Even in passing?"

"I don't remember everything from my scholar days."

Not an outright lie; those days were a blur. Rigorous and all-consuming academics with not much time for herself, except of course for the moments she slipped away, or stole. All instances that were still fresh in her history.

When the sun dropped from the sky, and the lights of the city beckoned her with it's promised anonymity, and its proffered escape. Getting herself into the sort of trouble that was otherwise irresistible to a teenager who felt she didn't belong. Who bore the associated pressures and expectations of a path more or less chosen for her.

Trouble that followed her even into young adulthood.

Scrapes and scuffles on the streets of Nevarra that inexorably found it's way back to the ears of her elders. Awaiting her with exasperated spiels, and stern words. And heftier measures of containing her the next time.

Though she had seen him plenty around the Necropolis. She knew who he was. More so than her flippant dismissal let on.

Professor Volkarin; the tall, handsome academician whose lectures she'd made a habit of crashing. Keeping to the back with one of her friends, one who actually held the right to attend, she'd watch him with a covetous gleam to her eye and a withheld breath. A luxury rarely afforded, her heart whirred like a hummingbird in the cage of her ribs whenever she could sneak off to sit in.

Confident, eloquent, experienced. He'd captured the attention of the entire lecture hall with the flourish he wielded in spell-casts, and final preparations alike. He was impassioned about his work. The full-breadth of his proficiency - and kindness - shining through as he expounded on the necessity of ceremonial tradition, and the importance of regarding the dead with the same reverence one would the living.

And Maker, his hands.

They had never been introduced. Not a word, or glance, exchanged between them in all their shared years. She was certain that she could admire from afar. That he hadn't taken stock of the vivacious, diminutive elven interloper that invited herself to his seminars.

Oh how wrong she was.

The professor was more familiar with Ariadne Ingellvar then he'd ever dare confess.

Catching glimpses of her around the halls. The vibrant little mage that radiated the fertile warmth and liveliness of a dawning springtime, with her rosy cheeks and bright shock of blonde hair. She evoked images of fresh bloomed honey-suckle dotting a verdant meadow, a herald of the seasons approach.

Who crept into his audience, and observed from the cover of shadow, as far back as their discretion would extend.

Like a voyeur, he'd sense her presence amongst his fold of usual suspects, making him feel exposed. The lecture hall too public a setting for the sudden feverish indecency that infected an otherwise appropriate, and strictly educational demonstration.

At times she looked out of place against the backdrop of the Necropolis. A beaming smile with a lot of teeth. An infectious cackle of laughter he had come to recognize as hers, as she maneuvered the halls with a gaggle of peers around her. A distinct bouquet of raspberry, gardenia and amber wafting in her wake. Little, pleasant pockets of fragrance left like breadcrumbs to follow her trail, should he ever be so inclined.

Or so bold.

The smells of the Necropolis were dominant, and familiar. Of myrr, clove, and Bitumen. The bitter cold. Her scent somehow refused to be suffocated by her surroundings. Her reputation, that he was only able to gleam fractions at a time, suggested that she refused to blend in. And in that, she was successful.

He was equally familiar with the whispers and disapproving remarks from colleagues over the years. They shadowed all conversations at which her found her at the center. Where she was mentioned, criticism was sure to follow.

Her raising esteem among the ranks made for all the more intriguing a contrast.

She was restless, it seemed. Headstrong. Spirited. But oh, was she alluring. And lovely.

Lovely enough to both coax his gaze, and forbid him from looking any further. Digging any deeper.

Emmrich was both ecstatic - and slightly sick - to see her traipsing up alongside Bellara when they arrived for his recruitment. It had been some time since he had last seen her flitting through the halls of the Necropolis. Though she had been absent from its structure, her memory very much still haunted his musings.

She didn't look much different from how he remembered. She seemed grounded; sated by the experiences she received in her time away from home. And yet, a flicker of despondency remained. Homesickness, perhaps? Dejection at being sent away?

After the meeting had disbanded, she remained in her seat. Eyes cast downward, as she studied her nails, and twisted her fingers. He found himself pausing, with brows lifted in concern.

In a gentle croon, he maintained the safe distance away from behind the other end of the table. "Rook, dear, are you alright?"

Lifting her chin to gaze up at him, he saw the same lost look he sometimes caught sight of around the Necropolis. He now knew it's origin, of course, or at least a likely theory.

During their jaunt at the memorial gardens, Ariadne revealed that she had been the babe that was found abandoned in the crypt. He hadn't been among the Watchers who recovered her, but he had seen her then. All those years ago when he was a much younger man.

Her impossibly tiny body swaddled and cooing from the crook of Myrna's arm. All pink cheeks and bright eyes. With elongated, pointy ears not yet grown into, even with how new to the world she was.

And then there she stood; an accomplished necromancer, and grown woman. Her ears now as proportionate as the rest of her.

The same grown woman who had caught his eye around the Necropolis, much to his dismay. It took everything in him not to react upon that revelation. Maker willing she hadn't noticed the falter of his tight smile, or the twitch in his left eye.

More reason to keep her at arms length.

Yet there he was. Alone with her. Lingering, like a besotted fool.

"Never better." She lied with a sidelong look, casting away the brief flicker of melancholy just as it breached. "I'm tired, but no more so than anyone else."

"Tremendous pressure often leads to tremendous physical stress on the body." His tone erudite, he straightened to a more erect posture. "I fear you're not heeding the tells of your own."

"I'm fine, really." With an exaggerated simper in effort to make it more believable, she rolled her shoulders as if their tension released with that declaration. "Thank you, Emmrich."

Fearful of coming off too strong, he nodded in surrender and cleared his throat. "I'll see you at dinner, then?"

She rose from her seat, smiling at him from across the table. "Yes." She affirmed. "See you then."

During dinner Ariadne was silent. Poignant as it was uncharacteristic, it was an observation that worsened his concern. She no more than picked at her meal like a bird, flashing brief smiles, or nodding only when appropriate. But the fiery Watcher he knew was miles away from the young woman who sat across from him. Her disassociation betrayed by the sad, brown eyes that had dulled from their radiant luster.

He knew she was in there somewhere, and yearned for her return.

With dinners unceremonious conclusion, he watched as she excused herself from the table without a word, and disappeared into the pantry. Returning after a curious length of time, the stem of a goblet was twisted in her fingers. That same small hand also clutched what he assumed to be a wine bottle by it's neck.

Her eyes darted among those closest to her before proceeding, hoping to avoid potential entanglement with someone who might think to join her.

Or worse, notice the specific vintage she was smuggling.

The only others left in the dining hall now were himself, Taash and Davrin. Too engrossed in a debate over whether or not an axe was more effective than a long sword against a Hurlock, to pay any mind to her suspicious behavior.

It only took him a few lengthened strides to catch up to her. Believing herself to be in the clear, Emmrich noticed how tense her back stiffened upon hearing him advance. She halted, before spinning on a heel to face him, brows quirked and her lips pouting in what could only be describe as anxiousness.

"Rook- I do hope I'll receive your pardon if this comes across as overbearing, but I must caution against such a libation on an empty stomach."

Unable to curve his curiosity before it took the lead, his gaze flickered down to the bottles label. A lump formed in his throat as he read it.

Carnal, 8:69 Blessed.

The good professor was well acquainted. It's sultry description reared from the depths of his psyche, and crashed over him like a sheet of glass.

An Orlesian liqueur for the daring, or those who wish to seem so. Said to enhance sensation.

He clasped his hands in front of him with a soft clatter of his bracelets and bangles. Hoping beyond hope he hadn't played his hand. That she didn't notice the climb his brows made to his hairline upon noting her scandalous choice in drink.

If she did catch his prying, she had the decency not to acknowledge it. Her smile was tired, but genuine all the same.

Emmrich felt her palm slip around his elbow. The young mage was most unrestrained with her expressions through physical touch - it was just her way - and at times he fell prey to the rot of wishful thinking that he received more of it than the rest.

"And I hope it's not too much trouble to ask that you call me Ariadne. Or Ari, if you prefer." The fleeting contact pulled back to then give a dismissive wave, she planted a step behind her, poised to take off. It wasn't like her to look to flee his company with such haste, and that appealed to his morbid intrigue. "And trust me when I say, I only want one drink, just to help me sleep." The melody of her voice lilted in amusement. "Though if you do get worried, I think you know where to find me."

Call me Ariadne. His chest pulled in on itself. Pressing his tongue against his clenched teeth, it felt heavy and cotton thick at the mere thought of addressing her as such. Addressing her by name.

Rook was easy, and safe. Rook was a moniker for the explicit use of her associates. Referring to her that way maintained his professionalism, and staved his guilt.

Swallowing with a weak smile, Emmrich offered an acquiescent bow of his head. Neither indulging, nor denying her request.

She peered up at him in thought for but an extra moment, her exhaustion clouded gaze glimmering with contemplation. Abandoning whatever seemed to hold her attention, she gave him a final, small smile, before exiting the dining hall.

Though if you do get worried, I think you know where to find me.

And worry he did.

The hour was late, and the thought of disturbing her nagged with apprehension. Surely she didn't require his company, nor his consolation, when she had such a treasured, sororal bond with Neve. Yet he found himself taking the long walk down the corridor to her quarters nonetheless.

Perhaps reminiscing of home will offer a welcome distraction, if only for a short while. He assured himself. A comfort that I am uniquely disposed to provide.

All thoughts of Neverran eccentricities and their hopeful nostalgia halted as he arrived at her door. It greeted him with an alarming sound.

Though muffled through the thick, ornamented wood, she cried out his name - weak, and panted - as if in great pain. His chest tightened, seized by the gelidity of dread. It trickled down his lofty figure like he had plunged headfirst into a lake on the cusp of winter.

He pictured the worst. The Lighthouse infiltrated by a Venatori assassin, regardless of how improbable. He saw her crumpled on the ground and sticky with her own sanguine as it pooled beneath her. Her beautiful, flaxen locks turned to ink from coagulation.

That swell of panic was all it took.

Forgetting himself, and all prior etiquette he once held steadfast, Emmrich burst into her room.

His ferocity mirroring the pounding of his heart, he conducted a quick sweep of the space from left to right - intent to find the fabricated, surmised assailant. But none was to be found. Her room was blissfully free of the threat of imminent danger.

No Ventaroi. No blood. No need for his chivalry.

That relief was staggering, though short-lived. Emmrich next sought her out, rounding the lounge at the center, knowing there was no where else left in the space for her to be, except for there.

What he found dried his mouth, and spiked his blood to run frigid in suddenly too-tight of veins all the same.

Ariadne was draped prone on the chaise, in naught but her ivory blouse, and half unbuttoned at that. The loose, silken fabric shifted down her blushed shoulder, flashing him a peak of flesh as she writhed and twisted in pleasure.

Flesh pinched rosy and glistening. And far too much of it, more than he least of all had any right to spy.

The senior necromancer simply stood there aghast, gawping like an un-initiated adolescent - of which, he was neither - unable to come to terms with the fact that what he stumbled upon was indeed transpiring.

And she had moaned his name in her throes. Called out for him to come to her aid.

Swirling iridescence filtered through the glass across from where she laid, bathing her in a luminous, surreal glow. The waters reflection streaked her in vivid hues of chartreuse and turquoise that slithered over her flushed, half-naked body. As if guiding his appreciative leer, leading to where he should aim it next.

It drew his eye to the toned length of bare legs, her petite calves flexed and toes curling. The roll of her pelvis against the furious rubbing of her fingers was hypnotic. A faint, lewd squelch echoed her frustrated whimpers.

He watched tormented as her lithe body arched; shapely hips lifting, the base of her spine bowed in a provocative display, pressing her face down into the fabric, muffling her moans. Attacking herself from a deeper angle, the sinuous dip and curve of her silhouette alone was enough to drop him to his knees.

The bottle sat uncorked on the dresser, while her goblet dangled from her finger-tips, precarious as it hadn't been emptied. It impressed him how she managed not to spill as she then ground down. Humping the hand she pinned between her nethers, and the cushion that cradled her.

He had only ever seen her hair combed back and twisted in a bun, but now it was pulled free and hung loose. Glowing almost silver in the shimmer, a veil of ashen blond that streaked messily over her face. So removed from himself as he stared, it hadn't even occured to him that yes, he was still there watching, until her uncovered eye drifted to him at last. Only then had she realized his intrusion.

The soft hazelnut eye was almost eclipsed in full by her pupils dilatation. Glossy with lust, she peered up at him from beneath a heavy lid. Utterly unabashed at his presence.

If she was even a hint mortified to be discovered by him in such a predicament, nothing about her demeanor suggested it.

"Oh! Professor Volkarin... good." Her tone rich with intoxication, it spread a wide, lazy grin against her colored cheeks. "I-I'm in rather... desperate need of your masterful instruction."

As quiet and still as death itself, Emmrich's entire body locked in place, with a stoicism that presented much more severe than he meant. A strangled mewl forced it's way from her throat, one that lured him back out from his inward retreat.

"You poor thing. You are struggling, aren't you..." Spoken softly, more to himself in observation, than acknowledgement of her plight. Wrought with sympathy.

"Please." She whined, having given up on the erected pearl, rubbed raw and twitching. Holding herself propped up by the elbow, her body stretched out languid and malleable before him. Ripe for his indulgence. "It's just been so long, and I've h-had maybe... a bit too much to drink." The admittance airing on sheepish, she then gave her best purr of seduction. "I'm finding myself... distracted."

The rich mocha of his eyes glimmered with something wicked. A shift in the gentleman Watcher, something she had yet to witness.

"Allow me, then, my darling, to realign your focus."

He stepped towards the chaise with a tall posture, and leisured gait, as if he very much believed propriety could be maintained despite the circumstance. She scrambled to allow him space beside her, curling her knees and swaying in place as she watched him sink into the upholstery.

She brought the goblet back to her lips, relying on that sweet bite of liquid, candied peach to fuel her shamelessness. But it stopped just shy of her pout.

Held in place by a firm hand, her glassy eyes floated over the rim to see Emmrich angling a look of disapproval her way. The lines of his handsome, angular face deepened in exasperation, like an austere parent about to reprimand an unruly brat.

"Dear girl, I should think you have had enough."

Her already wild heart-beat took off at a reckless gallop, at how he managed to wrap the rich velvet of his voice around such sharp scolding. Her weakened fingers broke away from the stem of the goblet with laughably pathetic submission, waiting with bated breath as he discarded it to the credenza behind them.

Settling the length of his tapered frame more comfortably against the cushions, he turned to address her once more. Ensnaring her eye-contact, he refused its release while he pat his thigh. Motioning her to him like he would a skittish kitten.

The cut of his jaw lifted, he stared down the bridge of his nose at her as she crawled the rest of the way towards his lap.

"Face away from me, so your back is flush with my front." The weight of her settling over him, the heat radiating from the naked thighs that then straddled him - sensations that were enough to break him on the spot. A reprehensible fantasy that now spilled into his reality.

He failed to swallow a groan as the curve of her bottom slotted against his groin.

"Good. Are we comfortable?"

The little she-devil that she was, her hips gave a playful wriggle against his bulge. She got more than she bargained for, tripping over her tongue in reply at the imposing mass that greeted her. One not yet swelled to full mast. "O-oh, yes."

Emmrich fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and count. She wasn't going to make this easy.

Sinewy, bejeweled hands slid over the tops of her thighs, the metal of his bracelets clinking and cool and against her feverish skin. Stopping at her knees, he slipped his thumbs between them, and peeled them apart unhurried.

"That's it... spread yourself for me, nice and wide." His smooth palms glided back up the inside, feeling how supple the more delicate, inner muscle quivered to his slow exploration. The skin burned beneath his finger-tips, the heat emanating from her grew the closer to her womanhood he traveled.

Deliberate in avoiding that area, he instead drew up to clutch her about the hips, giving them an encouraging squeeze before he stilled. "We'll want as much room as possible, yes?"

When she drew her legs over his knees to dangle alongside the anterior of his own, a rumbling croon of "good girl" ghosted against the shell of her ear. The whimper he earned for it couldn't have been any sweeter.

"I gather you are most receptive to a hands-on approach?" Unable to give him a verbal response, all she could do was squirm in his lap and nod. An unending wealth of smart remarks, he preened at having already rendered her beyond speech. "Very good. You're going to show me how you touch yourself - exactly as you were before my interruption. We'll see if I can't refine your methods."

With a shaky exhale, she leaned back against him, while her fumbling fingers set to work.

She did well at first, all things considered. The young Watcher was reeling from his closeness; his infectious body-heat, the infuriating steadiness of his breaths. The overwhelming aroma of smoked potash, cedar and oakmoss, and an indistinct floral note layered in between.

He kept her anchored to him by her hips, thumb strokes absent-minded and rhythmic, while he observed her performance. Any time she teased herself just so, and gasped out for him, he'd reward her with a throaty; "stunning", "yes, that's a good girl", "you're doing quite well." Incentivizing her to maintain her pace with his praise.

The final nail in her coffin to it all was the strength of alcohol that coursed through her, pumping her blood so hot it made her feel smothered by her own skin, too tight and confining. Weighing down her limbs with rueful sluggishness that fought against her pursuit of release.

Her head swam laps against the lurching of the room, while his hummed approval only heightened her wooziness. All that kept her steady, were the eyes she held shut, and Emmrich's embrace.

He stared down the front of her body with enraptured attention, feeling himself pulse with a lazy heft against her rear. Knowing she could feel him while he stiffened to attention at her little mewls, and stifled rocking. But he couldn't find it within himself to care. His attentiveness a willing prisoner to the sight of her dainty index finger swirling over her clitoris, as her middle digit strained to edge inside herself.

The little elf would get so close to the release that continued to taunt her. It warped the edges of her bleary vision, and shook the sweat-dampened, tensed thighs that his knees held open. He'd feel her body seize, joints lock, and head snapped back, as she arched in prelude.

And then she'd lose it. Slipping from her trembling fingers, the white-hot, coiling tension ebbed in cruel absence. Like trapped steam set free from beneath the lid of a pot as it roiled. A defeated whine bubbled from her throat, and he swept in to console while easing her back to the precipice.

"Oh, my dear girl." He clicked his tongue, ever punctilious. His silken voice dropped an octave from its depth in his chest. "You need only concentrate."

Ariadne lulled her head back against his shoulder with an infantile huff that matched her pout. "I am."

He chuckled low in tantalization. So low she more felt it against her back than heard it, her blood roaring in her ears as loud as it was.

"Then you're still holding on." He kept his admonishing gentle. "And I need you to let go."

He watched as she twerked her wrist, working herself up and down in a blur of erratic, frantic strokes.

"Slow, slower." He instructed. "I can only imagine how you must ache... quiet your mind. Steady your breaths. Follow my voice." Every syllable pronounced in that assertive baritone had her walls spasm against themselves. "I'll help you, darling girl, if you'll listen."

An unintelligible moan was all the response he received.

She switched to tease her weeping entrance with one hand, while the other busied by hopeless strokes at her clit in irregular, clockwise circles. Her shoulder blades dug into his chest, they tingled against his mused susurration as it thrummed through him.

No doubt poised to deliver constructive criticism, he was nothing if not a stickler for proper form.

"You're much too rough with yourself. Too impatient." He tsked, his own hands kept occupied by massaging the firm swell of her glutes. More than a little sure that her piriformis was screaming at the prolonged tension it was suspended in. "Only to give up just as you're right about to crest."

"I'm not giving up," she insisted, her face screwed in aggravation as she brought herself back, only to then lose it again faster than before. To this loss, she growled. "I can't.. I can't-!"

His tone low, and contemplative, he then interjected in a display of his authority. "Hmm, I see now."

Emmrich fished the the end of his crimson binding from around his waist, and tugged the long end to unravel to a more generous length in his palm.

Bringing it between her legs, he began to wipe away the excess wetness. Tending to her with paternal affection, it made for an obscene contrast against his words. "Pardon my crude tongue, but you're much too wet, dearest. You'll not get the necessary friction otherwise."

Her body shuddered at his words, dripping from the tip of his tongue against the shell of her ear like liquid smoke. His chest was warm and sturdy against her back, a broadness to him that his lank mislead. His sheltering firmness curved around her as he continued to guide her with forbearance.

"P-professor please-," she nearly sobbed, hips stuttering up into his fingers as they rubbed her throbbing cunt through the satin. "I need your touch."

He fought the visceral reactions to the way she mewled his title like some revered perversion, for fear that if she realized its effects on him, she'd become merciless in its exploit.

"But of course, my girl." Voice slinking and sultry, he brought his lips closer to her ear. "I've never been known to shun a pupil in need."

His hands slid over the tops of her thighs to find her fluttered heat, and did so with the practiced ease of a body known to him. She shivered at his finesse, at how assured he was in her handling, though it was the first time they were ever intimate.

Velvet smooth and puffy from her abuse, his touch felt like a salve that granted instant relief to her neglect. A loud, shuddering sigh dragged from her by the trace of his finger-tips over her petals. First with his bare hand, the dainty gold chain that connected the ring of his thumb to the bracelet on his wrist dragged against her folds. While he continued, his ornaments played against one another in a dissonant jingle with each and every purposeful manipulation. Just as they did during his casts.

She wondered if she'd ever be able to hear those otherwise mundane sounds again without becoming aroused.

His gloved hand, equal in dexterity to the one that stroked her bud, joined in to lend additional prowess. Both hands a flurry of expertise betwixt her thighs, Emmrich massaged and rubbed, his glove sticky with her honey as he spread it around her tender lips. Pressing them apart to slot his middle finger between, he began to glide back and forth over her weeping slit with an agonizing pace.

His pressure efficient, yet patient. Only giving her what was needed, refusing to indulge.

Sagging back against his chest, she dared to look down at the sight of his hands splaying her apart, as if in appraisal. She couldn't help but recall one particular demonstration he held for advanced techniques on relieving rigor mortis.

His grace, the fluidity of his manipulation. Long, limber fingers aglow with magic, as they palpated the tissue before him. He narrated his precise movements in the genteel inflection she had come to recognize, and adore.

However as she watched him work, hands gliding over the limbs that melted to desired pliability at the behest of his deft touch, she didn't hear a word of it.

All she could do was stare at those hands, and stew in the blatant envy she felt towards the corpse beneath them.

She was wrenched from the clutches of her reverie by a sharp, yet delicious sting to her cunt.

With his gloved hand and a quick flick of his wrist, Emmrich had demanded her straying attention with slap.

It was solid, but affectionate. No where near harsh enough to be unbearable. Just exacting enough to corral her back in line.

Ariadne yelped, jolting in his grasp as his gloved palm cupped her hurt. Soothing the sting with a gentle pet.

"I'll not tolerate you daydreaming." For all his chiding, it still held the warmth and patience she'd expected from him. "If my instruction is desired in earnest then your complete and undivided attention is expected, Miss Ingellvar."

" 'M sorry! I c-can't help-,"

"You can and you will, young lady." His interjection was laced with amusement despite his steeliness. "Unless of course, you aim to provoke my cruelty."

Professor Emmrich Volkarin cold and cruel. A thought that twisted her insides into a throbbing, tangled mass. Had she not been so helpless to the maddening of an out-of-reach orgasm, one now threatened by his denial, she would have delighted in goading such a side of him.

"I mind you to pay attention. I know you won't take kindly to the consequences if I'm made to repeat myself." The warning dripped from his tongue deliberate and restrained.

A gloved finger turned it's attention to her aching bead, Emmrich worked it in diligent circles. His feathered pressure serving as kindling to the wild fire that raged beneath her skin, the feeling of suffocation returned with a vengeance.

"The tissue here is most sensitive." His explanation cool as it was dignified, his knees continued to hold her legs open as she quivered to his stimulation. "All that's needed is a little leniency, and a light touch."

She could feel the prickling burn simmer at the soles of her feet. The promise of a full-body blaze lapping it's way through her, staring from the bottom, and working it's way up. His index finger continued to circle with rhythmic, borderline merciless insistence.

The more she writhed and arched in his lap, the tighter his circles became. The satin leather pressing down with measured pressure to her swollen sex.

"Do you feel the difference?" He urged, the bridge of his nose brushing at her temple as he nuzzled her, inhaling the combination of her perfume while he had her this close. And the heady musk of her arousal, as it drooled from her to his coaxing. "That pressure in your abdomen, it feels more reliable, does it not?"

He brought her so close, so gloriously close and sooner than she thought possible, given her struggles. Struggles that were worsened by the inebriation she now cursed.

Yet, somewhere through the foggy recesses of her rationale, her core clenched around its emptiness in indignation.

She yearned for his fullness, for the stretch of him to come down around. The raw desperation of her keening plea surprised even her.

"Please, I-I need-,"

"What do you need, my dear?" Emmrich didn't stop nor slow his expert ministrations.

She groaned. "Maker, please! I need you- need you inside me!"

He shut his eyes, drawing a deep, quiet breath to keep himself grounded. The girth in his trousers twitched in compliance, but he ignored it.

"Easy, easy now." He hushed, pushing her slick petals apart with his bare hand to first dip in his gloved middle finger. Almost too long, too much of him to take, and ribbed from his rings. The force in which she clamped around him nearly popped his joint from the socket. A shrill, breathy moan tumbled out of her and into the stifling air.

Allowing her a moment to savor his fullness, he then crooked the slender digit inside her heat, rolling her eyes back, and twitching her ears. "There, does that feel better?"

"Yes, oh yes." She sobbed, the plushness of her sex throbbing around his leather-bound intrusion. "T-thank you, Professor."

"You're most welcome, little darling." Intoned with the same dignified composure as if she were no more than a pupil in his lecture hall, he pumped steadily within her. His free hand toyed with her clit in complimentary persuasion. "Dare I say obedience is rather becoming on you."

The slightest condescension in his praise, it caused the entirety of her body to flush with a heat. Her center tightened in wordless request for more, though he merely chuckled. The deep rumbling brought a vibrant pink to smear the bridge of her nose. The faint striped scar there nearly disappearing in the stain, as it spilled across both cheekbones.

Emmrich had never taken an elven lover before, though he had once come across an excerpt pertaining to a certain weakness of the species. The salacious triviality now at the forefront of his mind.

Ever studious, the professor couldn't resist the temptation of putting the theory to practice.

Dropping his chin, he reached for the blushed tip of her ear with his tongue. Tracing the pink ridge of cartilage, his lips curled in a grin once he had the tine pinched between his teeth in a gentle nip.

A sharp gasp ripped from her as her body rocketed in his lap; tossing her head back hard to his chest while her hips bucked forward. A violence to her fervor, as if her lower half moved independent from the rest of her.

"E-Emmrich!" A hoarse plea, any of the conviction it might have held was stolen along with her breath.

"Miss Ingellvar, am I to assume I've dissolved your decorum, or is that how you address your superiors?"

She couldn't find it within herself to fire back with something witty. Becoming so strict with her in that intimate, hushed crooning had her walls clench against him firmer. A gush of her arousal soaked against his finger, only to leak out over his palm and seep into the cotton of his slacks underneath. A throaty groan sounded from behind her, like the purr of a panther.

"Professor Volkarin," her amendment shaky, she sucked in breath and called on it for strength, "h-how do you expect me to concentrate when you-you-,"

"Are your ears quite sensitive, darling?" His level tone feigned innocence with such a degree of effortless deception that it shocked her. "You'll have to forgive me, I hadn't a clue."

Whether or not that profession was sincere, he swept back in to once more suck the tip between his teeth. Sealing his lips to create suction, he pulled. Harder than her newfound sensitivity could withstand.

Hips stuttering and rutting into his hands like a woman possessed, she felt herself quite literally melt all over him. Painfully aware of just how much of the mess she had made of his groin pinned beneath her splayed legs.

The limber tip of his tongue laved at the point of her ear, growing just as swollen from his attention as the depths of her he continued to penetrate. Offering the gloved heel of his palm so as to not abandon her stinging clit. He seemed unphased by his soiled trouser, his sole attention on drawing out more of her melodic chirps and gasps.

"You're a bastard." For all the strength of such a word, it lacked the necessary bite. More curious still, was the fact that it wasn't spat - but moaned. He tsked through a smirk she couldn't see.

"My my, you've a filthy mouth on you." Her ear released from the heat of his mouth, he pursed his lips to blow against the damp, suckled skin. "Very well. Since there isn't a bar of soap handy, I shall just have to correct your insolence another way."

A shameless giggle bubbled up from her throat and spilled through her lips. Her words tinged with slurring, their softened points still managed to pierce him. "Had they sent me to you for disciplinary action back in those days, I can only imagine how much more insufferable I would have been."

He swallowed a pained groan, furrowing a sharp brow to the sinful, debauched images that notion conjured. "I shudder to think." The hoarseness lurking in his words sparked her to grind back against his roused bulge. "Glutton for punishment, are we?"

She beamed as he choked an another breath at the motion. "Most assuredly for yours, Professor."

His voice plummeted further down to the seat of his chest. His instruction stern, it left no room for negotiation. "Open your mouth."

She did as she was told, only to feel his spidery fingers slip up the velvet flat of her tongue, crowding her small mouth with warm flesh, and the metallic tang of his rings. Able to lift the traces of her own slick against the wet muscle, she curled it around his digits to begin suckling them, his cock perking to her eagerness.

He eased them deeper at a gradual pace, until they were in well over past the first knuckle. A few choked gags had him hushing encouragement into her damp temple.

"Good, very good." His voice then seemed thicker as he intoned. "Breathe through your nose, love. Nice and slow."

Emmrich had only just gotten his hands on her, and she was very nearly reduced to tears. An orgasm still dangled just beyond her reach, the tension coiled to a knot low in her stomach that his thorough, and methodical drilling inside of her only stoked. With two fingers invading her mouth, he thought it only fair to give her swollen sex the same treatment.

Without warning, another of his gloved fingers plunged inside her. Even with her lubrication, her slick walls twitched and stretched to accommodate him. She lifted from his lap as a strangled cry ripped from her, muffled around the fingers that tickled the back of her throat. He locked against the points of his contact and forced her still, hushing against her ear.

"There, there, little one." He regarded her with the utmost patience, and adoration. Crooning into her mussed hair as he dragged them out of her, and then curled them back inside. "You're taking me magnificently, my dear."

She was so desperate to come around them, and give him a show of just how erotic she found those hands of his to be. The smooth, bulbous gems inlaid in his rings added to the stinging pinch of his intrusion, the leather of his glove slick and satiny within her tight confines.

Her arms flew upwards and to wrap around his neck, clumsily clawing at the crisp starch of his collar, knotting at soft hair at his nape. Her feet slid back to hook around his calves. A little slip of a thing captive to violent shimmers, bewitched to the way his expert fingers dissected her need, she coiled around him like a garden snake.

"Relax, darling, don't hold to the tension. It will not serve you now." He purred, feeling her body warring with itself in his lap. Hips stuttering to try and goad him to quicken, while still not yet adjusted to him two-fingers deep inside. "Take a nice, deep breath for me... There you are. Close your eyes. Give yourself to me."

Withdrawing his fingers from her whimpering mouth, slick with saliva, he slipped his hold around her throat. Flexing with benign pressure, he squeezed ever so slightly against her untamed pulse, just beneath her jaw.

Quieting her frenetic mind and choking her to distraction, the act was as tender as it was merciful. He lead her to the edge of consciousness, introducing the intimacy of dipping a toe in each side, just as he began to work his fingers inside her sex. Just as she was about to come for him.

"P-please...Professor Volkarin-," a rasping moan that clued him in to just how close she was indeed. "- let me come."

The insinuation that he, ultimately, controlled her orgasm was not one he took lightly.

"Ariadne." Murmured low in warning, silken and smoky, like vanilla bourbon. Her name on his lips held a slight chastised edge, his habits from being a professor not so easily shirked. The first time he'd ever called her by name.

Every bit as provocative as she'd expected, and even more intimate than she ever could have imagined. "I believe the instruction I provided was quite clear; let go for me."

Her name on his tongue proved to be a trigger, and a powerful one at that. Her walls fluttered in tight pulsations around his digits, sucking them in deeper as a full-body eruption detonated outwards from her molten core.

Tears welling in the corners of her soft, hazelnut eyes, they broke free from the lash lines, and rolled down her flushed cheeks. She rode herself out on the long fingers that continued to knead her plush heat. Soothing her through the wrenching of a long-overdue, and arduous release.

The gradual thrumming outward from the root of his cock ascended to full-fledged throbs, painful in their insistence. He had now familiarized himself with her depths; knew how velvety, and narrow, and oh so very wet.

His heavy sigh fanned against her temple, before he pressed a kiss to the sweat that trickled down the vein.

As he licked his lips, he could then taste the ambrosia that teased him back to his memories of her strutting around the Necropolis, wholly unaware of the older, venerated professor she had beguiled. Frosted berry and white amber. He never wanted to be rid of it.

As if they were amongst of crowd of nobility at a gala, and he was about to impart something truly scandalous meant solely for his lovers ears, he then drawled; "I must express my gratitude for having granted this senior Watcher the pleasure of assisting you in this little death."

His length twitched in retaliation to the confines of his slacks, more than anxious to feel the pinch of her channel as he worked his way inside. To feel those same flutters of release wrapped snug around him, kneading him until he spilled himself inside her.

Yet he possessed more patience than that. She needed time, hit little Watcher.

He had only just begun.

"Now, dear girl, since you're well acquainted with the more... mechanical route, shall I introduce you to my oral technique?"

He shut the door behind him with care, mindful not to jostle the latch. As if trying to keep from waking a babe he had just gotten to sleep.

Creeping back around gave him a start, the color draining from his face.

Davrin, Lucanis, - even Varric, up and out of bed - were gathered just outside her door. The three now looking more startled than he.

Though he had taken the time to right himself before exiting her quarters - leaving her to a much deserved and rigorously earned slumber - the steel locks of his hair, disheveled from their typical neat coif to fall into his eyes, were quick to humble him.

The wild young Watcher hadn't let him slink away from their tryst unscathed.

A beat of awkward silence coalesced between the men. Though coming as a surprise to none, Varric was the first to piece things together, with an amused smirk working it's way crookedly across his face. Emmrich took the initiative to break it, tipping his head in as much politeness as he could muster.

"Gentlemen." The nonchalance of his greeting earned a raised brow and a stifled chortle from Davrin, who otherwise remained quiet.

"We just... heard Rook scream and we...," Lucanis began and then surrendered, clearing his throat.

"Ah, yes..." Emmrich gave a tight-lipped smile, brushing his vest for nonexistent lint, just to busy his hands. The joints now achy and creaking. "Well, there's no need for concern, she's just fine. However I do ask that you leave her undisturbed for the time being, she's... quite spent, you understand."

#i really gave this fic the rockstar treatment considering im highkey worried its garbage aha #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #rook x emmrich #emmrook #emmrich volkarin smut #emmrich volkarin fanfic #emmrich volkarin fanfiction #brat tamer emmrich

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wisecura · 21 hours ago

Text

Pretty c.1

💌❤️‍🔥💌❤️‍🔥💌❤️‍🔥💌❤️‍🔥💌❤️‍🔥💌❤️‍🔥💌

I’m updating some old posts so if you’re reading it for the first time - enjoy!

This a Suguru x you

I usually write a lot of unhealthy relationship POVs so please don’t read if you aren’t interested in yandere-type stories 🖤♥️🖤♥️

c.2

Being the little sister of The Satoru Gojo was one thing. Being a member of the Gojo clan was another.

You’d received a lot of kickback from the elders and from your family. You were always expected to be on a somewhat similar skill level as him. And you weren't necessarily weak by any means, but your big brother wasn't someone anyone could compare themselves to in the first place. But, it didn't help that you were close in age- you being only two years younger than him—and that you looked so similar with your stark white hair and blue eyes. The family just couldn't hide the disappointment in your skill gap, making it easier to try and treat you as lesser than.

Keyword - tried.

It was a whole other thing having ‘Toru as your big brother. From the very first day his mother came and introduced you to him- the white haired blue eyed baby swaddled in her arms—he was entranced. Fascinated to find out that he was going to be a big brother. He still had no clue what that meant, but as the two of you grew older, everything clicked into place.

He couldn't get enough of you, and did nothing to hide his favoritism towards his cute little sister.

You were largely harassed by your family and the clan house, though you can’t remember when it all started. You’d never forget the way the maids would throw you nasty glares before scuttling off. Or the way you’d often been harshly scolded for being too loud when you roamed the clan house. Or the way your mother’d look down at you indifference when she’d previously looked at you with such soft eyes. You felt more lonely than you cared to admit.

Satoru picked up on you reclusiing into yourself, and couldn’t stand it. He’d begun clinging to you like a second shadow. Spending more time at your side than before. He’d make his point one way or another. Even if that meant putting both the elders or his family back in their place. Protective is a gross understatement for his treatment of you. But could you blame him. How could he stand silently by when his cute little sister was being harassed by a bunch of old geezers. Hell even the house maids seemed to pick on you.

Satoru was always there for you during those times. Always on your side and always around to lessen those feelings. It was hard for you to be bitter when you had him.

And you can’t say you didn’t know why they picked on you. You were much weaker than Satoru. Not to mention you were born the wrong sex.

You didn't hit a fraction of their standards by a long shot. Satoru clung to you throughout your childhood, protecting you from most of the harsh words, and even harsher punishments they slung your way.

Once Satoru got a bit older, he understood his position just a bit better. The perks given to him as the sole heir of the Gojo clan. The strongest sorcerer in the world, possessing both the infinity technique and his six eyes.

He was fed up.

He’d found himself confronting the current head of his clan. Targeting the source of your bad reputation.

“Your responsibility? Ha! Don't make me laugh. You all have been nothing but a bunch of hypocrites-treating her like garbage since she was four-”

“Satoru, you're being unreasonable. She’s needs to know her place in the clan-”

“Unreasonable?”

Resentment flashed in his startling blue eyes, his cursed energy leaking from every pore. He wanted this man to fear him. Hated him with every fiber of his being.

“Me? Unreasonable? Let me make myself crystal clear. From here on out, my sister will be under my care. None of you are allowed to approach her. scold her. teach her. anything.”

His eyes narrowed in on the Clan Head across the table, staring him down with an iciness that didn’t match his young age. Fucking geezer. Satoru could tell he’d accomplished what he came here to do. He knew he had the upper hand here. The threat only inches below the surface of his words.

I'm stronger than you, old man.

This argument lead to the notorious decision to place your care in Satoru’s hands. Satoru refused to let anyone exert authority over you. Even his mother.

Unfortunately, since no one was able to argue you, you were largely ignored. You’d spent years with Satoru acting as your guard dog. And soon enough it was time for him to leave for school.

Satoru was desperate to ensure your happiness and safety while he was gone, worsening his own reputation in the process. He’d been more aggressive in his actions, often snapping at the people around him and blatantly clinging to you like a child. It never relieved his ever growing anxiety about leaving you, if anything making him more attached to you. He was honestly tempted to just bring you along.

“Toru,” you sang, a lilt creeping into your voice, “are you excited to be going to school, soon?” You excitedly jump on his back, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He’s always sure to leave his infinity off when you're around him, knowing you liked to plan “surprise attacks” on him.

You had always been with Satoru, as he had always been with you. Being apart like this poses many problems for you. He’s fully aware just how detrimental his absence could be. Loneliness being the growing concern. His family taking advantage of his absence was another.

He chuckled at your cute antics, carrying you around the garden on his back—your feet kicking out back and forth. He’d been on his way to another useless training session. As your best friend, and with his upcoming departure he wasn’t about shy away from you. Satoru chose to ignore your question, figuring that whatever answer he gave would probably make you sad. This likely would be the last time he'd hear your happy voice calling out to him. At least til he returned home for the summer. He felt the silence seep into air between them.

“We’ve got to do something fun before I leave!” He finally responded, trying to sound somewhat energetic, “I’m gonna miss you so much, imouto.” His voice sounding somewhat strained. Your arms wrapped tighter around him.

It was finally the day. Satoru would be leaving for high school. The idea of staying in the dorms—away from the clan house, sounded like heaven. If only he wasn’t leaving behind something so precious. He decided that when you were ready for high school, he would rent out a place closer. Away from these people. Maybe within train distance of a beach?

You'd both just stay there instead of coming back home. Until then, he would come back for your sake. Two years. He could wait two years.

You missed Toru like crazy when he was gone. Summers couldn’t come fast enough, and they never lasted long enough. Satoru left a lasting impression, as no one seemed to bother with you. You were often left alone and ignored. Though you didn’t mind it as much.

You took that time to practice and hone your cursed technique, hoping to not be an embarrassment when you joined him in school. Your older brother was so cool and strong. Something you aspired to be.

Toru would come back for the summer, and you could sense that he was happier away from home. It made you sad in a way.

When he finally returned home, you’d showed him how much you've improved in your cursed technique. Which earned you lots of praise from your big brother.

He told you all about the friends he's made while he was in school- including some dude named Suguru Geto. He sounded particularly fond of him, which made you a little jealous (if you were being honest).

At the time you really didn't think much of what he went on about, but it intrigued you all the same. He had never sounded so excited about another person. Well, other than you.

You were eager to start high school, making your own friends, forming your own memories. You were rarely let out of the manor, let alone allowed to speak to anyone other than Satoru. Something that was also set in place by him, Satoru never liked the idea of you roaming around the streets like he did. Too dangerous.

You couldn't imagine what the other students were like. Had you even interacted with anyone around your age? The people you did know were pretty indifferent towards you, or downright hostile. Though, no one could be better than your big brother, as you told him hundreds of times. This fact served to further inflate his ego, not that you noticed or cared. He really was the best big brother. But you were curious. Curious what the outside world held.

And just like that- two years flew by. And before you knew it, you were finally enrolled at Toru’s school. Finally let outside the estates' high fences. To say you were ecstatic would be a gross understatement. This time you'd be leaving with him, and you'd get to see the campus you’d only ever heard about. It was automatic enrollment when they heard you were Satoru Gojo’s little sister. Purely on recommendation, and of course Satoru’s sway in the jujutsu world.

Rolling up to the campus you saw how beautiful everything looked. A heavily wooded temple surrounded by lush gardens. Your brother's words didn't do it justice. Stepping outside of the car, both you and your brother made way to the dorms to settle in. His constant babbling flying over your head as you took in the sights. You would be in two different classes, of course, but at least you'd still get to see him regularly. And you were stuck in that damn house.

Settling into the dorm rooms was easy. The room was slightly smaller than the one you had back home, but still comfortable enough. You’d had your things delivered before arriving, but you noted how there wasn’t another girl in sight. The empty hallways were somewhat unsettling but Satoru had said that not many students enrolled.

Meeting your new classmates was…interesting. You had two other first years joining you. Both boys. Still no girls?... But they looked nice enough. You couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable at how they looked at you when they first met you. Like you were a specimen being observed. Satoru did make a name for himself on campus after all.

Kai, the taller of the two spoke first, “You a Gojo?” He circled you with a laid back demeanor, his eyes narrowing in, “Ya definitely fit the look.” You backed away, not fully understanding his meaning. Maybe the hair? The eyes? That makes sense, but what’s with the interrogation?

Kazuo, the shorter of the two, spoke next,

“What's your cursed technique like?” He looked almost like a puppy you thought. Very cute. Definitely not cuter than your big brother though.

The conversation flowed easily. Well easily enough with your lack of experience. It was shaping up to be a solid friendship between you three, and you were excited to start classes. Then you ran into Satoru.

“Toru!” Your face lit up when you saw his tall lanky form. His back was to you, as he stood in the courtyard talking to a few other students. You went to surprise attack him again, as he fell forward. He easily caught his footing, surprised to see you so soon. A wide goofy grin graced his face as he set you down. He was thrilled you were finally able to meet his friends.

“Guys," His voice betraying his excitement, "this is my little sister!” He ushered you face to face with the two upperclassmen. A boy and a girl. The girl introduced herself, and you recognized her name instantly. She was pretty, with her caramel colored hair matched her eyes. The healer!

The boy on the other had stood almost as tall as your brother, only he seemed more…intimidating. His black hair swept back in a bun, and his dark purple eyes, piercing through you. Observing.

He was everything your brother wasn’t, where your brother was soft, he seemed hard. Where your brother was light, he was dark. You easily recognized him by your brother’s description. Satoru had only spent hours talking about him, and you could see why. He was pretty fucking handsome.

You were stunned for a moment after locking eyes with him, you hadn't noticed Satoru calling your name. How embarrassing-

“Aw, Suguru, looks like my lil' sister’s gotta crushy-wushy on you!” He squeezed your cheeks together, causing your face to light up bright red as you swatted at him, yelling, “Shut up, Toru!” You continued smacking at him, as Satoru threw his infinity up. He continued teasing you ruthlessly, spewing embarrassing comments about how cute you were-how red you’d gotten. You didn’t let up on your attempt at a beating. You hadn’t noticed the two upperclassmen’s stares.

Suguru couldn't peel his eyes away from you for a second. Satoru had described a small child when he’d mentioned you. He most definitely hadn't expected...you. White hair pinned up in a half up-half down style, your blue stunner eyes that rivaled even your brothers, and features that would take down a model. You were a Gojo after all.

Suguru could describe you as a lovelier version of Satoru. If Satoru wasn't so irritating. God, he hoped you didn't share his personality.

What had he expected when his best friend said that his baby sister was joining them at the high school this year?

“Satoru, enough teasing. You're gonna make her cry.” Suguru poked teasingly at Satoru, his voice carrying a teasing lilt to it. “‘M not gonna cry!” You basically screeched. Your face and ears were both tinged deep red at this point, and he was pretty damn sure you looked close to crying. He couldn't stop the thought that automatically popped into his head. Pretty. The two boys both broke out in laughter.

c.2

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in-death-sacrifice · 2 days ago

Text

Stolen moments

Lucanis Dellamorte x AFAB! (Crow) Rook

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Light voyeurism, Unprotected Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex,

You stayed near Viago exchanging pleasantries with anyone that approached the two of you. Word had spread all over Thedas about what you had achieved. How not one but two members of the Crows had fought to protect the world from the gods. So of course the Talons were going to proudly display them both. "You don't have to look so bored you know?" Viago joked from beside you, his eyes lighting up in amusement as he caught you scanning the room for the 3rd time that night. "Perhaps you should be a better company then" you retorted sarcastically causing the man beside you to laugh. "You're just angry I'm keeping you by my side and not letting you go to a certain someone" he teased, grinning as you turned your head trying to hide the giddish smile and blushing cheeks.

Between the aftermath of the battle and all the Contracts Viago had assigned you on due to your rise in popularity; you barely got to meet the newly appointed first talon. The time away wasn't doing either of you and good. His lack of sleep had begun to catch up, running off the last long sleep he had with you weeks ago. Your bodies craved each other, the tension with the eye contact you had managed to do during the evening was enough to begin causing the whirlpool of need in your lower stomach- no doubt having the same effect on him.

Viago chuckled when you finally saw him again, the swaying on your feet had come to a stop, your eyes widened in adoration. He was almost tempted to keep you at his side forbid you from going over there just because it was funny seeing you so desperate for someone. But you had both been through enough - held your responsibilities professionally making sure not to ruin either house's reputation. He was honestly surprised Lucanis hadn't begged him to let you go to House Dellamorte. "Go..I'll find Teia or something" he chuckled, a smirk grew on his lips as he watched your head whip round. Smiling wide at him. You didn't even thank him, just ran off weaving through the crowd in hopes to find the host of the evening.

He found you first, his hand grasping your wrist as he dragged you away from the evening. You wordlessly followed him down the endless corridors; enjoying the view from the back of your guide. The way his shoulders held such power and danger, his waist was just the perfect size. The muscles right under his shirt rippled as he walked, muscles you couldn't wait to dig your nails into the next time you got the chance. Perhaps Viago would be kind enough to let you stay the night, creating some excuse as to why you didn't leave the party with him to reduce chatter and gossip among the other crows. The door shut softly as he led you into a room, his eyes were soft as he gazed at you; that damn smile plastered on his face. The one that made you melt the first time finally admitted you felt, before you both faced impossible odds. "Rook."

You couldn't help the blush that decorated your cheeks from the sultry tone that left his lips as he called your name. You sighed as his hand touched your cheek. The feeling of his catolloused fingers was sorely missed, ones that had been shaped through years of killing much like your own. "I've missed you" he whispered as his arms enveloped your frame bringing you close. Lucanis was never one for a quick fuck, always wanting to make sure you both left the room completely satisfied or he would wait until he could do that. His hands had already begun slipping under the fabric of your top as he untucked it causing you to gasp when his cold hands made contact with the skin.

"I've missed you too, I think Viago got bored of hearing me complain about it" you chuckled. Lucanis smirked, his eyes darkening as he brought you in for another kiss. "I think we can make up for lost time no?" He grinned. You pulled back gazing at the man before you, his hair nicely trimmed along with his beard all for show to the houses that gathered tonight. "Isn't it rude for the host to slip away from their own party?" You teased as your fingers began to work on his clothing. A dark chuckle escaped his lips again before he pinned you against the door. "I'm sure people will be patient and distracted for a while"

His teeth nipped at your pulse point, saving the way it beat against his lips. He could hear Spite's satisfaction that you were well and truly alive and healthy. His fingers began to run down your sides, undoing the many layers of clothing that hid your body away from him. "Damn Viago for making you wear this many layers" he muttered against the marks he had left, claiming you. It would raise the gossip between everyone, all the houses will try and figure out who left the large purple mark for everyone to see but in this moment neither of you cared. After everything you had been through, why should either of you.

You stood bare against the door, the metal embellishments cold against the heat of your skin. You admired his build, somehow more toned than before. Your lips pressed feather like kisses over his heart earning sweet hums of contentment as he savoured the feeling. His hands found your thighs gripping them as he hoisted you against the door. You could feel his tip prod at the entrance, pre cum leaking eagerly against your folds. His hips moved slowly gathering the arousal that left your weeping entrance before he slowly slid himself in. The two of you are groaning at the feeling as your walls stretched to welcome the intrusion.

His pace was slow dragging the whole length out before he would bottom himself. Saving the way your walls clenched around him. His eyes shut as he attempted to steady himself, savour this feeling as neither of you know when you could get this chance again. His mouth twitched upwards into a smile as he hears your whines and whimpers, evidence that he was satisfying you perfectly. With new found confidence he increased his speed, the primal need to claim you began pulsing in his blood.

Your nails scratched down his back releasing deep groans from his lips. His hips started to sputter as he got closer to his release, your moans becoming breathy pants as your own shattered through you. You relaxed against the cool surface of the door, allowing him to continue to use you until he found his own release.

He buried himself deep as his cock finally twitched, his load spurting deep inside you filling you with warmth. His head rested on your shoulder breathing in your scent as he cooled down. Your fingers played with the strands of his hair grounding you. It was moments like this that you missed the most, the shared intimacy of the moment as you both relaxed. You loved how he became putty in your arms begging for the touch he never knew he needed.

You had both been through so much, your hands ran over the scars that littered his back some stories still untold but etched into his skin as haunted memories. Lucanis moved the two of you away from the door, unsheathing himself as he settled you on the chair. "I've missed you" he whispered embracing you. His missed the feeling of you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. "I've missed you too" you chuckled, relishing in the skin to skin contact you both craved. You both may be busy now but you know in your heart you'll always return. "Can't wait for the night to end and I can finally sleep in your arms again...I've needed it badly"

You smiled at him watching the way his eyes relaxed as you brushed your fingers through the strands of his hair. "Maybe we should go back and end the night quickly..and then I'll make sure to leave the door unlocked for someone to possibly enter" you whispered. Lucanis chuckled against your neck breathing your scent one last time before getting dressed again ready to face the rest of the event with few found goals for the end of the night.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte x reader #lucanis dellamorte x rook #lucanis x reader #da4 #da4 lucanis

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sansaorgana · 1 day ago

Text

— DECEPTION (IX)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

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

SUMMARY — Negotiations with Herald Elrond do not go as smoothly as your husband planned and you become more and more aware of your feelings towards Adar.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This chapter is quite short but the previous one was long and it would be too big if I included this part there, meanwhile the next chapter(s) will be the last part(s) already with two alternative versions and the events from this one remain the same for both endings – that's why it's a separate chapter. 💕 By the way, do you remember the poll at the end of one of the previous chapters? Adar won there against Sauron, which means most of you would rather see the Reader in this story end up with Adar. As I said, there will be two alternative versions, so you can choose the ending. However, I think it is obvious already that both relationships will not be of an easy kind. There is lots of betrayal going on between Sauron and the Reader but also Adar finding out about her being Sauron's lover is deeply problematic... 🙈

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

WORD COUNT — 3,650

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (IX)

You were responsible for looking after your prisoner Lady Galadriel while your husband was attacking Eregion and damming the river. He didn’t want you near the actual fight, at least not for now yet. You knew what he needed your prisoner for and you were supposed to prepare her for the task.

“Your husband is a fool,” Galadriel spoke to you through gritted teeth when you were leading her by the shackles inside the cage prepared for her. “I do not care if I live or die. I fight for ideas much bigger than you or I. I fight for Middle-earth and it will fail if Adar walks right into Sauron’s trap.”

“Perhaps,” you answered mysteriously and gave her a scolding look, “but you overestimate my influence on Adar. I think I have done that, too. He will not listen to me in this case. He is too determined to get rid of Sauron and to erase him from Middle-earth completely. He does not think rationally,” you explained to her. “He would burn the whole world, I think, if it would only take Sauron down with it.”

Galadriel stayed silent and you pushed her inside the cage before locking it and hiding the key. However, it was not time yet for her to be taken out of the war camp, so you just sat on a chair in front of the cage and kept staring at her, studying everything you had wished to be once as a young and naive Elven maiden.

“What is it like?” Galadriel asked in a whisper after a long while of silence.

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow at her.

“What is it like to go down the dark path?” She furrowed her brows and your heart skipped a beat.

Why was she wondering? Was she considering it? Or had she in the past? Was Sauron the reason for that? Your lover?

“It is freeing but treacherous. It has its price like everything else,” you shrugged your arms.

“Do you love him? Do you love Adar?” She asked one more question but it did not feel like an interrogation. In a way, it felt like being questioned by a curious child.

But Lady Galadriel was not a curious child. She was one of the most noble Elven ladies. Her heart and mind had to be a real mess if she kept asking such things. And, once again, you had that malicious feeling that Sauron was the reason for her curiosity.

“I have grown to love him,” you admitted without thinking and then you looked away, trying to avoid her surprised gaze.

Because you were surprised, too. You had never said that out loud – not to him, not to anyone, not to your own self. And yet, your lips answered before your mind could think of a coherent and vague reply.

You loved Adar but you were so entangled in Sauron’s web that you brought him to his death.

“Are you asking me these because of Sauron the Dark Lord?” You asked Lady Galadriel, trying to change the subject. “Because of the past you once shared with him?”

“Funny. I have just realised you call yourself the Dark Lady of Mordor,” Galadriel also preferred to change the subject and talk about you rather than about herself.

“It is not the name I have given to myself. What are you insinuating?” You moved uncomfortably.

That was the exact reason why you did not want to spend too much time with her alone. You were scared that her heart – influenced by Sauron just like yours – would recognise you as her rival.

“Perhaps you do not hate him as much as your husband does. Perhaps you idolise him,” Galadriel pointed out and you stood up angrily and pressed the tip of your dagger to her throat.

“Shut it, you are pushing too hard, Elf,” you warned her and she looked down at the blade with widened eyes.

Sauron’s dagger. Of course. You only proved her point.

“It was a gift from my husband,” you explained and hid the dagger away. “He took it from Sauron’s dead body after killing him.”

“Beware. His items are as powerful as he, Uruk,” Galadriel threatened.

“I am not easily corrupted,” you remarked although it was a lie and an obvious one as well. And she knew it.

“Really?” She asked.

“I told you to shut it, didn’t I?” You only drawled out through gritted teeth and sat back on the chair.

The sounds from afar were making you feel anxious but you knew that now there was absolutely no chance of convincing Adar to go back home. He would never abandon the battlefield and retreat his forces. His pride was too grand for that and you could only watch how the events would turn out.

Perhaps Sauron would not win. There was a small thread of hope that he would not succeed in his scheme. It would not be the first time when Adar outsmarted him.

And even though you already knew that to Sauron you were nothing but a tool – you still felt guilty for thinking such thoughts. As if he was a god indeed but the funny thing was, you had never felt so guilty after abandoning the Valar. But you felt guilty now for a man so rotten and evil.

He should have stayed dead.

Charging Elven horses were a beautiful sight and quite powerful, too. Even if they were coming right at you. But you stood still despite your pounding heart and clinged to Adar’s arm to feel a bit safer.

If you were to die now alongside him – perhaps it would be for the better. You would miss out on so many awful things that were about to come.

And as you watched the Elven soldiers charging towards you, you thought they looked beautifully terrifying. Some part of you mourned you were no longer their kin but the other part of you felt oddly proud to be the very thing that repulsed them now, leading the army of filthy creatures shouting obscenities towards them. And in that way you were an Uruk, too. There was nothing saint to you and no rules to follow anymore.

Except for Sauron. He was your only exception but you hoped to get free of his chains, too.

Being Adar’s wife had taught you many things but humility was not one of the lessons. On the contrary, he had made you realise that you deserved to be treated as an equal.

At the sight of Lady Galadriel inside the cage, with an Orc’s blade cutting her neck and drawing blood, the army of the Elves stopped all of the sudden right in front of you. And the man leading them was Herald Elrond himself.

He was one of those important Elves that everyone knew but he had never treated you like you were worse just because you were a Lady from The Southlands, living inside the cold and raw fortress of Ostirith. He had always treated you with kindness and respect.

And now he was staring at you if you were something disgusting.

Many considered Galadriel to be made of pure light but it was him out of all who would be the most difficult to corrupt even though he was half-human.

“Welcome, Commander Elrond,” Adar took a step ahead, leaving you in the shadows with his children.

Long silence occurred but it was obvious that despite the hesitation, Elrond would not leave his friend in the enemy’s cage or continue the attack under such circumstances. Therefore, he nodded at his people and jumped out of his horse. He took one more man with him – Vorohil – and he agreed to follow you with him to your camp and negotiate.

You walked alongside Galadriel’s cage, watching her carefully as the Orcs kept pushing it with her inside. You could feel Elrond’s disgusted and curious eyes on you as you decided it was getting frustrating to be perceived by all those Elves who knew nothing of you or your history. All they knew was judgement – another hypocrisy of a kin known to be so pure and noble.

You truly wanted to go back to Mordor; to hide in the shadows and remain there forever, inside your realm and far away from others. Yet, who could you blame for being here and not there? It had been you pushing Adar to come to Eregion.

You stood next to your husband who was sitting by the table inside your tent. This time you did not choose to sit next to him like the last time when you had been negotiating with Lady Galadriel. She was in shackles by the wooden pole and Glûg was standing behind you, staring at Elrond and Vorohil with hatred in his small eyes.

There had been a time when his eyes had been nearly the same when laid upon you. And now he would die to defend you – of that you were sure.

“The Ring you carry,” Adar began once they were sitting across the table. “Show it to me,” he requested.

“A foolish act if I had brought it here,” Elrond pointed out.

“You are a courtier. More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword,” Adar told him and you smirked a little because you had thought the same of yourself.

Sauron himself had once told you something similar; an excuse to keep you away from the important events. And for many years you had believed in that. It was Adar who had gifted you a dagger to defend yourself and who had allowed you to keep the very sword you had used to doom The Southlands. It was him who had begun teaching you how to wield it and you really hoped he would live to finish this task.

“You’ve never seen me wield either,” Elrond answered.

“You should’ve just kept charging, Elrond,” Galadriel whispered.

“If she speaks again, cut out her tongue,” Adar looked up at Glûg and the Orc approached her to put his curved blade to her neck as other Orcs growled and Elrond moved uncomfortably. “Sauron is my enemy as much as yours,” Adar addressed him again. “Give me what I need to defeat him and let us all be rid of him.”

“Is it not you that has done his bidding by laying siege to Eregion?” Elrond asked angrily.

“Eregion has fallen into shadow,” you interrupted them and Elrond looked up at you, a little surprised. Perhaps he was surprised to see that you were allowed to speak. “It belongs to The Deceiver now, as does every Elf within its walls,” you informed him and calling Sauron such a name rolled off your tongue with a bit of satisfaction.

But also guilt. Again.

“The Deceiver does not work alone,” Elrond looked up at you and your heart stopped beating for a moment as you blinked your eyes slowly, trying to remain calm. “You two have helped him like the fools that you are,” he spat out and you sighed out of relief.

“You cannot save Eregion now, it is a lost cause,” Adar told Elrond. “You can save Galadriel,” he looked behind to stare at her with Glûg still pressing his blade to her throat. “It is an earnest offer,” Adar added. “I suggest you take it and leave Sauron to me.”

He stood up and approached Elrond very slowly while looking at him carefully.

“You have the beauty of your foremother, Melian of the Valar,” he pointed out and shook his head. “If even a fragment of her wisdom is in your veins, you must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmanoeuvre you, my forces outfight yours, and you will fall.”

“Not before I have painted the sands of the Glanduin black with the blood of your kin,” Elrond stood up to face Adar as his face winced in anger.

Glûg growled behind you and you shushed him, softly.

“Easy, my dear,” you addressed him, “it is nothing but the noble and pure Elves showing their hypocrisy once again. Oh, how glad I am to not be their kin any longer,” you looked deep into Elrond’s eyes.

Of course, technically you were. You would always be, no matter how many people would start calling you an Uruk. But in their eyes, you were no longer a part of the family and they would never accept you. Therefore, you were not their kin.

“Our children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn’t bear to hear spoken aloud,” Adar whispered to Elrond and you felt a shiver go down your spine when he called the Orcs your children.

Your children. Well, you had thought of it before, that in some way they were like step-children to you. But you had never expected him to say it out loud, especially in a moment like this; facing the enemy and making a statement to the outside world.

Your children. Another responsibility being put onto your shoulders. He had been right when he had told you that the power was a burden and him sharing it with you was not a gift – it was a curse. Being the Lord Father of the Orcs was yet another burden and now he wanted you to carry it with him. Like an equal he treated you as. Because there were downsides to being an equal to someone as powerful as well. If you were still as naive as before, you would think that Sauron had been simply protecting you from the burdens whenever he had been keeping you away from all the big things.

Your children. How could you betray them now? How could you lead them to death and slavery?

“Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely, Adar?” Elrond asked your husband, looking at him only but his words felt like knives stabbing your heart and creating a bleeding, open wound. “Are they?” Elrond asked, addressing the Orcs standing next to you.

You could feel their uneasiness and Glûg even lowered his blade from Galadriel’s throat. You nearly wanted to point out to Elrond that he was unwillingly following Sauron’s scheme at the moment, too; turning the Orcs against their Lord Father.

And you knew his question was a difficult one for your husband, because he didn’t answer it. He changed the subject instead.

“The Ring for Galadriel’s life. What is it to be?” He asked.

Elrond looked down and walked past Adar to watch Galadriel’s face. She was crying silent tears and in that moment, you nearly felt sorry for her.

“Ask me on the field,” Elrond turned around to face your husband again, “when the neck with a blade against is yours.”

The Orcs snarled and you snorted at his words, however your mockery was of a nervous kind and you could see that Adar was not happy with this outcome.

Despite his rotten and dark soul, you knew that he truly hoped to form some sort of alliance with the Elves for this battle. Deep within his soul, he hoped to get rid of Sauron and to prove to the Elves that his darkness was of a different kind than the Dark Lord’s. He hoped that in the end, the Elves would let the Orcs go back to Mordor in peace.

Even a man like Adar could be naive sometimes.

You approached him because your heart ached for him, especially at the sight of his expression.

“Very well,” he looked at Elrond’s face. “I will meet you there… with her head on a pike,” he threatened and you held his hand gently with your soft ones.

Elrond looked down at your joined fingers for a brief moment and then he stared intensely into your husband’s eyes.

“If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell,” he said.

Adar nodded slightly but he looked over his shoulder to lay his eyes upon Glûg to make sure.

“He’s unarmed,” Glûg said, therefore Adar nodded at Elrond and Glûg walked away from Galadriel.

You squeezed Adar’s hand tighter and stood in front of him, blocking his view and trying to distract his uneasy mind with yourself even though it felt treacherous since you were the very viper causing his demise.

“How strange is the way that the Elves love,” you whispered to him. “They would truly sacrifice people the most dear to them for their ideas,” you pointed out, bringing up the situation with Arondir and his human lover.

It felt now as if it had taken place in another lifetime.

Adar did not say anything to that and he kept watching Elrond carefully over your shoulder, which made you look down nervously as you fidgeted with his fingers; your wedding rings rubbing against each other and shimmering slightly in the dim light.

When Elrond – surprisingly – kissed Galadriel, everyone looked away, including the Orcs and most certainly your husband. You wondered about the nature of Elrond’s relationship with Galadirel but you did not care enough to actually ask about it or stare at them.

At least now Adar looked down at you and you lifted your eyes up to meet his gaze.

“Would you sacrifice me if it meant defeating Sauron?” You asked and gods only knew why because you truly did not want to know.

Adar cracked a sad smile and raised his free hand to caress your cheeks with his fingertips as he often did.

“I would find a way around,” he whispered.

“If there would be none,” you insisted.

“Then you know that I would have to,” he breathed out and you could see the pain and guilt in his eyes but his words felt like a punch.

You let go of his hand and moved away. That was also the moment when Elrond walked out of the tent in a hurry, calling for his friend to follow him. When they left, you walked out as well but you took the opposite turn to disappear inside the forest and go to your new favourite spot where the fallen tree was.

You sat on the grass with your back pressed to it as you took a deep breath in. And in that moment of weakness, you called out for Sauron once more with your mind and heart, risking him penetrating your soul and seeing your betrayal. But, as usual, he did not answer your call even though he was so close.

You had admitted to Galadriel that you loved your husband and on the same day he had said such a thing? Perhaps you still were a naive fool like you had been with Sauron.

But could you really be angry at him for answering that when you were the one deceiving him?

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by Adar himself who had followed you. He sighed at the sight of you and you wiped your tears quickly, hating to be seen crying for such a reason.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he admitted and offered you his hand to help you stand up but you ignored him, looking away. Adar rolled his eyes slightly and crouched down to be able to face you while he forced you to look back at him by grabbing your chin. “What does it matter to you anyway?” He asked. “Do you truly care about what I feel towards you?”

“Of course I do,” your eyes widened at his words. “You are all I have, Adar. You made sure of that, killing my father, turning my mother against me and destroying my home,” you reminded him.

“And how can you care after all of that?” He wondered out loud with a puzzled expression.

“You just cannot believe I could ever love you because you think of yourself as unworthy of it but what you believe does not mean nor can change anything,” you confessed, a little nervously.

He froze at your words and took his hand away from you as if you were made of fire. You kept looking at his face and crying silent tears – humiliation after confessing your feelings, guilt for being Sauron’s lover and pity for all the suffering the man in front of you had been through; all mixed together.

“I am a spirit much darker than you think, husband. It is me who is unworthy of you,” you dared to reveal.

“Do not speak such absurdities!” He got angry a little and looked away. After calming down, he laid his eyes back on your face and hesitated for a moment.

He opened his mouth to say something but the words were apparently too heavy to say them out loud and you understood that. But he did not leave you without any reply, however. His hands cupped your cheeks delicately and he leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss so soft and loving like none of your kisses that had ever been shared before.

With trembling hands, you cupped his scarred face, too, and deepened the kiss as more and more tears streamed down your cheeks.

And then… a glimpse. An odd tug at your heart, a short vision of Lord Celebrimbor’s forge, a flickering feeling causing shivers go down your body. Sauron had answered your call with delay and had made an attempt to reach you but what he had seen only caused him to retreat in a hurry and blind rage.

Adar sensed your sudden uneasiness and broke the kiss, moving away slightly to study your face carefully with his worried eyes.

“Are you quite alright, my love?” Adar asked you, addressing you in the Quenya language. Your heart clenched inside your chest at those words while you kept caressing his face with your thumbs.

“I will be after the battle,” you whispered. “Win it, so we can go home.”

MASTERLIST

#adar x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #annatar x reader #lilysfiction

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