Mrs_Unknow
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“We shouldn’t,” Jinu manages in between kisses, in between hands groping her all over, reaching for every dip and swell of flesh, every exposed skin waiting to be marked. “I shouldn’t want you. Shouldn’t want this. I should hate this, I should, I should, I should —”
But then Rumi tangles a hand in black hair and he falls silent. Nothing but a gasp as fingers furl and unfurl around soft locks. Tugging ever so slightly, a little out of fondness, a little out of frustration. I love you, whispered in the way she trails kisses along the slope of his jaw.
“Then take me like you hate me,” she offers. So easily, so casually like she’s made for it. For him. “Like you hate this. All of this. Would that help? Would you finally have me then?”
Alternatively: the art of falling together.
Bookmarked by Mrs_Unknow
03 Aug 2025
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“So, what's next?” Jinu said, nipping on her bottom lip. His carefully styled hair was in complete disarray now courtesy of Rumi's own wandering fingers, which only made him look hotter.
“Whatever you say, birthday boy,” Rumi answered, stealing a small kiss from him before looking right into his eyes. “Tonight is all about you, and…”
She took a small bottle of lube out of her jacket’s hidden pocket, holding it up in front of Jinu's face. “Nothing is off limits,” she added, putting the bottle on the bedside table.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by Mrs_Unknow
02 Aug 2025
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"You're mine," He rasped, mouth wide open against her own, breathing her in, devouring her. Rumi could only whine her response. "You're mine. Even if I don't deserve you. Even if I haven't earned it."
"You have," She rasped, "You have."
"I don't care," He hissed, forcing his hips against her, rubbing and grinding and searing her with a heat so potent she was certain he'd set her alight with just his touch, "I don't care. I'm taking it all regardless. You make me so greedy, Rumi. Look at what you've done to me—"
"Jinu..."
"You can feel it, can't you?" His laughter was wicked. Cruel. "You can feel what I'm going to do to you. Feel how I'm going to split you in fucking half—"
"Please," She whined, a sound pried from her and rife with an ache only he could soothe, "Please. I feel like I'm—"
"Dying?" His fangs pierced her flesh, his words rumbling through her, "How does it feel, Rumi? Knowing you have no choice, you've given me no choice. You asked for this, begged for it."
—
In which Jinu makes Rumi pay for using his best friend to get him jealous. And she begs for it.
Bookmarked by Mrs_Unknow
02 Aug 2025
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Rumi was born with her mark.
It's nothing odd; most people are. It just means she's younger than her soulmate - that they're out there, somewhere, and she doesn't have to wait to see what it says. It means that someone in the world was born without the words on their wrist - nothing special, either.
It means she came into this world with someone waiting on her.
And to Rumi, that makes all the difference.
Or: Rumi knows her soulmate could never love someone as monstrous as her.
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by Mrs_Unknow
02 Aug 2025
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Sauron’s eye fell unto the body, discerning the carvings on the chest. Fresh, still bloody, but visible, even though the corpse has been pulled out from the river, and was soiled with dirt. Adar was near Eregion; these were his methods. He shouldn’t be here, not now, not before the rings of power were complete.
He recognized the Cirth runes, at once; the ancient writing of the Elves, developed by the Sindar of Beleriand by Daeron, the minstrel of King Thingol of Doriath. The message, in Old Sindarin, adressed to him: Adar had Galadriel as prisoner. Before he had time to react to such information, he quickly demanded for the corpse to be buried.
“Show this to no one.” Sauron ordered.
What if Sauron shapeshifted into Elrond and went to Orc camp himself to meet with Adar, in Episode 7 of Season 2 of “The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power”?
Or "Tentgate Theory, the Fanfic"
Bookmarked by Mrs_Unknow
02 Jul 2025