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dontfearrr · 3 months

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Heard it through the grapevine

sorry guys i been so mia i literally have been in a weird funk but here’s a longer fic for u thrandy lovers and lmk if u want a part 2 maybe???

kisses to everyone, enjoy my elf sluts💋💋💋

Pairing: Thranduil x human!reader

Summary: reader keeps receiving gifts at her balcony, she has no idea where or who they’re coming from, she’s determined to find out…

Warnings: mild spicy content nothing crazy though

Category: fuck idk, fluff/hot n steamy?

Word Count: 2.1k

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“strawberries and grapes this time!”

You shouted out to Tauriel who sat on your bed. She was just as intrigued with these series of gifts you’d been receiving. You both have been trying to narrow it down to who it could be, there was very few elves in this realm who spoke to you but the few that did, didn’t seem interested in you. So they were kind of at a dead end, yet the gifts never stopped.

You lifted the white basket off the floor of the balcony where they always were delivered, somehow unnoticed. You sighed and set the basket on the bed next to Tauriel as you both opened the note together. The thought of having a secret admirer was quite endearing, however it seemed a bit childish almost..but very intriguing nonetheless.

“read it out loud! i can’t do it!” you giggled as you handed Tauriel the note and she laughed with you, sharing the excitement. She cleared her throat dramatically and gave you a slight smirk before looking down at the note and she began to read.

“the grapes of the finest wine, the strawberries of the finest vine. for a woman oh so devine.”

She spoke out in a teasing tone. Your face heated up in embarrassment, these poems were always so corny, but who could be so brave enough to share them with you! “oh my, Tauriel..that is absurd” you laughed and shook your head.

You took the note from her and examined the hand writing, trying to get some kind of idea of who it could be! You thought for a moment, the gears in your brain turning ferociously until you tilted your head and looked at Tauriel.

“grapes from the finest wine…finest vine…Tauriel, arent these fruits from the private garden??” you spoke, picking up one of the grapes, it was bright purple, these were the grapes used to make the town wine. Tauriels eyes widened and nodded, they were in fact from the private garden! well this is something at least. “yes those grapes specifically are kept in the furthest corner, only very few people are allowed in that area” she told you, picking up the strawberries. “these are also from the same area. finest fruit indeed” she sent you a teasing wink and you just rolled your eyes at the elf’s childishness.

“are you able to get me a list of the people who are allowed to enter this area of the garden?” you asked her hopefully and she chuckled a bit, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

“when i say very few people, i mean very few. grab something to write with.” Tauriel told you and you wasted no time scurrying off to find a quill and paper. Once you returned, you handed it to her and she began writing. you were nervous to see who was on that list, hands fidgeting eagerly as you hovered over her shoulder.

Six names were written on the list, this was amazing news. You snatched the paper from her hand and scanned your eyes over the list, it read:

Thranduil

Legolas

Lesysus

Elrond

Haldir

Aman

You were beyond perplexed. This list only made things even more difficult. The first thing you did was process of elimination. Elrond, he was in rivendell currently. Haldir, who was also with Elrond in rivendell….and that was it.. okay so six to four, not bad. But these were royal figures of the realm! There is no way any of these elves were even close to possible..

You looked at Tauriel who gave you a sympathetic look, she could tell you were stressing yourself out over this.

“do not dwell on it, my friend” she spoke gently, and you sighed deeply, setting the paper on your table and looked out the arched window of your chambers. “this was fun until now” you grumbled to yourself and looked down at the paper once more. “I think i’m just going to give it a rest, it’s clear whoever is doing this doesn’t want to be discovered so i suppose i’ll respect that” you told Tauriel and she quite literally laughed in your face, in a friendly way of course.

“i really love your optimism but we both know you’re not giving it a rest. just sleep on it, maybe you’ll get an idea soon.” she stood from your bed and gently rubbed your arm in reassurance before taking her leave.

You on the other hand, had a plan. A very determined one at that. You were going to do a steak out, spying over the royal garden! How incredibly stupid of you, but if the elf who was doing this was allowed in there, you saw no problem with taking a peek…for the entire night.

It was late now, nearly one in the morning, you decided it was a good time to go and spy on the garden. Tauriel had showed you a way to climb up into the trees to look down upon mirkwood, you figured this was perfect, that’s if you don’t get caught and probably executed. You chuckled to yourself at the thought as you threw on an elven cloak, putting the hood up and dressing yourself in your darkest garments to blend in with the night.

You may have been human but you had lived with the elves long enough to pick up on their gracefulness and swift movements. you swung from branch to branch, getting high enough in the twisting tree, maneuvering until you had a good view of the garden. You were crouched on a branch, quite high enough to go unnoticed hopefully. You hadn’t really thought through how long this would take but there was no going back now.

Three hours had passed by and your legs were beginning to ache so you moved to a simple sitting position, legs dangling off of the tree branch you sat upon. Your head snapped in the direction of the garden after hearing some noise, then you saw a shadow of a figure enter the garden. God damned elven sight, that was the one thing you didn’t have. It was simply too dark to see who had entered the garden, you were squinting and squinti-

“i know you are there, young one.”

A deep voice boomed through your ears and your eyes widened. They could see you? They knew you were there? This is ridiculous! Your mind raced but kept quiet until you heard the voice again.

“there’s really no use in hiding if i’m fully aware of your presence. come down. don’t be rude now.” the voice spoke again, you stared at the dark figure and sighed. Carefully jumping down the tree, landing on the top of the brick wall that separated the garden from the forrest then hopped down to the garden, standing slightly behind the very..tall figure. “i apologize, i was- i was…” you couldn’t even make up an excuse, you just accepted your fate at this point.

“you were spying on my garden? for a very obvious reason that is..” his voice was now VERY familiar to you, your face went white and your blood went cold. You’d just been caught red handed by the king. You watched him lift his arms and pull his hood down and slowly turn around to face you. He wasn’t wearing any kind of crown, not even a circlet. His white hair fell down his shoulders along with his hood and he stared down at you intensely.

“m-my lord.” You began to bow but he held up a hand, halting your movements. You obeyed and stood straight, looking at him.

“i see you’ve been receiving my gifts well. a curious one you are..” he said, a bit of amusement laced in his words. If he was being honest, he was quite impressed with your little idea, however he assumed it was only a matter of time.

“and please, call me by my name” he asked, stepping closer to you.

Your heart had fell all the way to your stomach, Thranduil was your secret admirer? this cannot be. you didn’t believe it for a second. That was until his hands reached up to pull your hood down, revealing you to him. “you are quite breathtaking, even in the darkness.” you could feel his index finger ghost over your cheek, the blood immediately rushing to your face causing you to blush deeply at his simple actions. The presence of the king was usually a lot more intimidating, but this felt almost..intimate?

“why me?” you asked quietly, looking him in his eyes despite it being quite dark, you were still able to make him out clearly.

He let out a low chuckle and dropped his hand back down, clasping his two hands at his front elegantly. “you think because you are mortal, that i cannot pursue you? i’ll have you know, i’ll pursue who ever i see fit..” he told her truthfully. He’s had a fascination for the girl for quite a while, though she had no idea of it.

He brought a hand up to your chin, gently lifting your face up so you can look at him properly, and so he can admire his sweet human. your face was warm and beet red, you were beyond flustered and truly had no idea what to say. “you wish to pursue me?” you asked him with a little bit of disbelief behind it and he simply nodded. God Tauriel would lose her mind if she seen what was happening! Your heart was beating rapidly, his touch felt like a dozen swans on a sweet pond. His thumb swiped over your jawline tenderly, causing you to take a step closer to him. He was more than pleased by this.

“i’ve desired you the moment i laid my eyes upon you” his hand was now cupping your cheek, his fingers threading through the hair behind your ear. “Thranduil..” was all you could muster up. He had you weak in the knees from a simple touch, it was quite cruel really. He absolutely loved the way his name sounded on your tongue, causing him to take a deep breath the calm himself down before he did something he regretted.

“will you have me?”

You placed a hand upon his chest, feeling his breath hitch in his throat as you did so. You slid your hand up, never breaking eye contact, feeling the porcelain skin of his neck as your hand continued higher, allowing it to rest on the back of his neck, your fingers nearly tangling in his perfect tresses. “i don’t want anyone else..” you told him and his caused his grip on you to tighten only ever so slightly. His thumb ran over your cheekbone before he dropped his hand, you were almost disappointed until his hand was now on your waist, pulling you against his own body.

Your body was on fire in this intimate moment, you were crumbling at his hand. He could tell you to jump off of the highest cliff and you’d comply without question. His head lowered down to your ear, his lips barely ghosting over your earlobe. “you keep me up at night, young one..” he purred, you could feel his warm breath against the skin of your neck.

You gasped at this and leaned your head to the side absentmindedly at his action, he took this as a delicious invitation as his head fit perfectly in the nook of your collarbone and neck. His lips connected with your skin, leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck, then unclasped your cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. his free hand pulled at the material of your tunic, exposing your shoulder as he hungrily continued his sweet kisses to your skin.

“Thranduil please..” you breathed out, the torture was far too much. Your legs were trembling and you gripped onto his cloak as if he was going to disappear. “please what, my love? use your words with your king..” his voice was like smooth honey, melting into your ears delightfully. You wanted to cry out in agony, but refrained from doing so as his lips connected with your collarbone this time.

You couldn’t take it any longer, you gently ran your fingers through his hair and cupped his face, pulling his head back to face you, his eyes were half lidded and filled with lust. Your mouth parted slightly as your breath slowed and you leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes for a moment. You could feel his breath against your lips, you felt this was too much and decided to take matters into your own hands and you closed the gap, his lips molding perfectly with yours. he gripped your waist a little harder, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you with hunger and passion. You tugged his hair, earning a groan from him and backed him up against the brick wall.

The king had fallen completely under your spell at this point, he was yours…

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thewulf · 3 months

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For That Long? || Aragorn

Summary: Request -Hello! 👋 Your work is absolutely amazing! Especially your Aragorn fics (My King! 🗡️👑❤️) In fact, whenever works best for you, here’s an idea: During the victory celebration at Helm’s Deep, the reader (also a Dunedain Ranger) offers a quick dance lesson for Aragorn to a) enjoy the celebration with him and.... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the sweetest little request anon! I had too much fun writing this one. I love trying to get into his head. Keep sending amazing requests my way! And thank you for you kind comments!

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: fluff?

“Not like that, Strider.” You giggled something fierce as he tripped over his own feet for the umpteenth time that night. Somehow you had convinced him to dance with you after quite literally decades of trying to get him as your partner.

“Have I not already told you how hopeless this is, Callia?” He asked you by your chosen Ranger name. You had to abandon Y/N when you left home all those years ago. If you were captured you must never give up your true name for your family could bear danger to your chosen work.

“You just need to relax yourself. Your mind.” You poked his forehead while grinning from ear to ear.

He sighed, “I cannot keep making a fool of myself in front of…”

You stopped him by placing his hand on your hip catching him most off guard, “My King overthinks.” You whispered as you took a soft step towards him. He smelled good. Like of the woody scent he naturally had but even better.

“I am no King.”

You smiled more to yourself than him, “Not yet. But the people have decided. It be but a mere month and you shall be.”

“It does not feel right hearing you call me that, my lady.” He countered while raising his eyebrows right up waiting for your retaliation.

Trying your best, but failing, you made a face in reaction, “You know I am hardly a lady.”

He hummed. Not even realizing you had begun to lead him you kept talking trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that plagued him. For if there was anybody who knew Strider better than himself it was you. Time had a way of making your heart the softest for him and truly only him. Countless sleepless nights of diving into your worst nightmares and trauma would find a way to bond the two seemingly hopeless souls.

“The opposite is true.” He smiled down at you with a look you had rarely seen from the hardened leader. You had been away from him longer than you wished. He had told you to go to Minas Tirith after getting orders from Gandalf to help the Hobbits of the Shire. You had heard the story of the great Bilbo Baggins and now apparently Strider had to accompany his nephew, Frodo. He had told you to go to Minas Tirith and wait for his word.

That had been six months ago. You had gotten used to life without him how odd it may seem. You had made a few friends that you probably never would have had Strider joined you. It was terribly uncomfortable. Your simple life changed when you had gotten word from him asking you to join him in Rohan. He knew something was coming and needed all the help he could get.

“A lady does not count her kills.” You spoke breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. A shift occurred as he had taken control of the dancing now. Your easy banter all but freeing his mind from his thoughts. Dancing wasn’t so bad. Especially if he got to hold you like this.

“By your definition.” He smirked down but dared not look into your eyes for he knew he would cave to any of your demands, “Not by mine. And did you not say I was to be King?”

You fought every urge in you not to pinch his side, “You are impossible.”

“Do you not refute, my lady?” His smirk only grew as he noticed your face fighting the urge to react. It was amusing watching you try and stay neutral. For he had missed this. Sure, it was not only the two of you dancing but it had felt like it. You had a way of taking his mind off of whatever he needed. You had always seemed to have known what he may have needed.

“It is no use in arguing with you, Aragorn.” You gave him the eye letting him know you were not over the little secret he had kept from you for so long. You had only found out of the name when Legolas shouted it on the battlefield almost costing you your life. It had left you stunned. Who was Aragorn and why had Strider reacted as if it was his name.

Because it was. He had apologized profusely before you finally gave in. Leading you to this moment with him. You had finally convinced him he needed to learn how to properly dance since he was to be the king. And lucky for him you so happened to know many dances as your mother had insisted a girl your age to learn them all those years ago in Dúnedain.

An amused smile crossed his features as he led you across the dance floor. Maybe he was not so pathetic after all, “It is not like you, Callia, to bite your tongue.”

“Hush you.” A laugh escaped you. It was no use trying to hide your own amusement. Yes, he pushed you, but it had also shown you how much he too cared for you.

He slowly stopped the two of you from your dance before replying, “You are most fortunate the music has ended."

A quick nod left you head as it spun out of control by his soft touch and daring words, “Most fortunate indeed.” Begrudgingly you took a step back knowing the moment between the two of you had ended.

But his words had stopped you from turning all the way around, “I will stop teasing you if you lead me in another dance. For I must learn. I do not wish to embarrass you.”

You only grinned before stepping back into his hands, “You could never embarrass me Strider.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you took in the breathtaking room before you. Stifling a laugh, you couldn’t truly believe you had made it here with him, alive and in one piece. Your truest and oldest friend crowned the King of Gondor. How you would never have believed this only three years prior. You watched as royalty and common people alike danced with joy and glee for their newfound leader. Aragorn. It felt the most surreal as you watched him mingle with people that mattered. A King. Who would’ve thought. Glancing down at your nearly empty glass you sighed knowing you had to make the walk back to get another drink.

But you never made it as you were intercepted by nonother the man you were watching far too often that night, “Strider!” You smiled trying to play it off as nothing as his broad hands covered the length of your forearm with ease, “You best get dancing. You have many eyes on you, my King.” You grinned with ease knowing calling him such made him uncomfortable. You truly had known him as Strider for as long as you could remember. You’d met as teenagers in your youth, kids from Dúnedain.

Your fathers were friends keeping you close together often until he went off on his own. When it came time to leave you had heard Strider was a Ranger. Having a feeling you’d run into him again you weren’t surprised you were assigned to his company not long after you left home to find a purpose. Just like him. In a lot of ways, you were the same. But in so many different.

For the last sixty or so years the two of you became something of a menace in the North. Something to be feared. Always working as a team, the two of you always seemed to come out of battles unscathed.

He grumbled in response to the title name you had used on him, “I have told you not to call me that. It does not feel right hearing those words from you. Strider will do.”

You smiled seeing how you managed to get under his skin with such ease, “Strider is too informal. May I call you Aragorn at least?”

“I think Strider is perfectly formal. But you may call me as you see fit. So long as it is not, my King.” He smiled right back at you. Even he had to admit how nice it was seeing you so at ease. He had roamed the North for nearly sixty years with you. He had never seen you so relaxed. He was sure he had seen you smiling more tonight than he had in the past sixty combined. You smiled like that bright eyed teenager who had an obvious crush on the older teen. It was times like these that made him wish he had told you how he had felt the same. He had longed for you for so long in silence. He had a duty to uphold. But now? Time was different. He needed somebody on his side. He had always known that somebody was you.

You bowed just knowing it would push his nerves further, “As my King wishes, I shall only refer to him as Aragorn.”

His mouth dropped at your brazenness, but he should have known better. He was convinced you were placed with him was to keep hm grounded. You had a certain way about you that had him acting his very best, “Y/N.” He let out an audible sigh letting you know he was annoyed.

“Strider.” You raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him knowing that name was now obsolete in your vocabulary. He was Aragorn now. You could get used to it.

He looked to the dance floor before turning back to you, “Would you join me in a dance?” He held his hand out for you to take giving you your favorite impatient face. It was your favorite thing to do after all, push his buttons.

Your smirk turned up into a genuine smile, “This is a pleasant change. I would be honored to join you in a dance, Aragorn.”

“Are you going to choose a name Callia?” He grumbled as you placed your hand in his. His smile never faltered even though he pretended to be most annoyed by you. It wasn’t lost on your how gently he wrapped his hand around yours before nodding his head to the nearly empty ballroom floor.

You giggled more to yourself knowing how annoyed he was with you. Maybe you should stop winding him up. It was almost too much fun to stop though, “Am I not allowed to interchange two of your many names?” You followed along his lead down to the center of the empty floor.

He stopped once he had found a place good enough. Placed one hand over your hip and one behind your back, “Hands on my shoulders.” His voice dropped nearly an octave as he gave you a simple order. A shiver ran down your side at his touch. This was new for you as well. Sure, you had found him ever so attractive, but he hadn’t the slightest interest in you. Everything was platonic as could be between the two of you. So, you had backed off and kept it cool knowing nothing was ever going to happen.

You did as he wished and wrapped your hands around his neck, far more intimate than you had intended but you were committed now. It would be almost more embarrassing to unwrap yourself from him, “You did not answer my question.” You spoke trying to rid your mind of overthinking this situation you had seemed to find yourself in.

He gave you a grin as his eyes trailed all over your face, “I was only playing with you. You may call me as you please.”

Before you could answer the music started forcing your concentration of following his lead. It was impressive how quickly he had picked up on the steps of the dances you had only taught him only a few times a month ago. It had been a little over a month after the Celebration of Helm’s Deep after the hell that was the battle.

You were almost upset when the music had stopped knowing his hands would soon leave you. It was not right to have these feelings for such a longtime friend. Let alone the King of Gondor. But how could you not? He was Strider the great Ranger of the North. He was Aragorn the leader of the Fellowship. He was the King of Gondor. He was everything.

Fortunate for you he hadn’t move his hands from your waist even as the music stopped, “I do think I should call you Aragorn. It suits your stature. You have outgrown Strider.”

He bowed his head before slowly bringing his eyes up to yours, “Then Aragorn I shall be, my lady.” He was smirking now knowing how much you too loathed the high title he had seemed to start calling you.

With a frustrated breath your eyes narrowed at his, “If you shall call me my lady, then I will call you my King.” You too didn’t enjoy how the high title rolled off his lips. You were anything but a lady even in the dress you protested but had been convinced of.

He let out a breathy chuckle as he finally came back to his senses and let his hands go of your waist. You feared to admit how much you had enjoyed his touch and closeness, “I suppose that is fair, Callia.”

Stepping forward to straighten his collar you could only smile up at him in adoration, “You look very handsome tonight. Who knew you cleaned up so well?”

He took your hand in his once more, “It took a fair bit of work. But I must say, it is you who shines the brightest tonight.”

He had never complimented you so forthright before it drew a small gasp out of your very own mouth, “You are most kind to me. Thank you Aragorn.” You were suddenly thankful you had put some makeup on. You were praying it was covering up the sure-fire pink tint that was bound to be covering your cheeks.

He watched as you turned away from him, “You must get back to your advisor. He looks very weary over in the corner.” You tried a good excuse to walk away from him. He was suddenly becoming too much even for you.

“Wait,” You stopped and turned back to him with that subtle blush coating your face. When you stopped he continued, “Come take a walk with me. I wish to talk with just you.” His darting eyes let you know people were listening, always listening in now that he had such a high title.

“As you wish.” You followed him as he left the hall as discretely as he could.

The two of you had made it all the way to the gardens before he had spoken once more, “I want to thank you, Y/N.” By speaking your true born name, you knew this was serious. There was no playfulness of my lady or the knowing name of Callie. Y/N.

You had no clue where this was coming from. Truly, you rattled your mind for further thoughts before you gave in, “Whatever for?”

He smiled as he led you down the path of roses he had grown fond of in his short time here, “For always being there for me. You have shown up for me time and time yet again.” He paused taking your hand in his before placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Had he no idea what he was doing to you?

“You are my truest friend.” You answered honestly after a few long moments of trying your hardest not to cave into whatever was taking over your mind. He was your friend! Only a friend. That is all he had ever wanted. He was simply thanking you for the journey. That was all. One chapter of your lives had closed and the next was to begin. You had to wonder where you would end up. In the capital being a guard? Roaming the woodland realms for danger? Head home and care for your aging parents? The choices were endless for your new life.

He let out a short laugh, “For that you are. May I tell you something?”

“Anything.” The response was so automatic it almost took you by surprise.

“If not for you, I would not be here.” He spoke quickly.

It took you much longer to process those words, “What do you mean?”

“If I had not known you would always be there I would not be king.” He smiled as his eyes traced your nervous face. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever known. How had he gotten so lucky with you? And by any other stroke of luck, you would accept his next question that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

“I am not sure what you mean Aragorn.” Your heart rate sped up just a tad as he stepped back from you. He fished something out of his robe pocked. Your eyes went wide as he held an old relic. A beautiful ring covered in gemstones.

“You have always been there for me Y/N. I fear nobody could ever take that place. I wish nobody to take that place. For I am the happiest when I am with you. Those last six months have not been good for me. But now that I am back with you I feel whole once again. There is no lady that could take your place Y/N. For your place is next to me.” The last words to come out of his mouth almost came out as a whisper for even he was nervous. The mighty King of Gondor afraid of some feelings he had almost his entire life. Oh, how his father would be laughing now.

Your heart rate kicked it up another notch. It felt like you had been training it was racing so fast, “Forgive me, I fear I am not enough…”

He stopped you this time though by placing a gentle finger on your lips, “I wish to not hear you speak poorly of yourself. For I do not respect those words. I will never believe them. I do know your entirely Y/N. Please, do me the honor of letting me court you.”

Your breath had been taken from you now, “You like me?” You had managed to get out feeling oddly faint.

“I love you.” He said so effortlessly you weren’t sure you had him quite right.

Your eyes turned up to his as he stepped closer to you, “You love me?”

A quick nod came from his head as his eyes bore right into yours, “I do.”

“I love you, too.” You spoke back before you could let your thoughts get the better of you.

His hands moved to your cheeks as he held you in his own, “For nearly seventy years I have yearned to hear those words from your lips.”

“For that long?” You asked in bewilderment to his statement. How had he kept it from you with such ease? It amazed you he had managed to be so stoic when you had been so obvious. Why had he fought it for so long?

He did what you least expected and bowed down to you, slowly. He had made sure you knew his intention, “I may not have always been wise to it but indeed. I have always loved you.”

You nodded quickly, your smile beaming brighter than ever before. He was sure that was his new favorite look on you, “Yea.”

“Yea?” He asked you as confirmation.

“I accept. I would be honored to stand by your side Aragorn.” Before you could bow to him he caught your chin in his hand shaking his hand to let you know that would be most unnecessary.

“You are doing me the honor.” He fastened the necklace with the ring on your neck tucking it underneath the top of your dress. His hands trailed down your sides resting on your hip for longer than he should have. He needed to take a step back or he would kiss you. Not that you wouldn’t let him, no. He was sure you would be more than happy about it. He simply wanted to charm you before he kissed you. He would not rush into this with you. For he had taken nearly seventy years to admit how he had felt. What was a little longer?

“You made it, Strider. You did it.” You brushed his wavy hair away from his face knowing that would be the last time you referred to him as such. From here forth he would be Aragorn. And you would wed him. How a life you dreamed of had come to fruition was beyond you.

He shook his head grabbing at your hands once more, “We made it. We did it.” He spoke of all the wishes the two of you spoke about in your many long nights. The dreams had seemed to come truer than either of you could have imagined. It almost didn’t feel real.

You nodded with nothing but love in your eyes, “Indeed, we did it.”

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luveline · 1 year

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good morning (at least in my time zone) jade! for hurt/comfort requests, could i maybe get peter putting together a little self care day for r because she’s burnt out from finals week? i hope you’re doing well ily 💜

i love you!! listened to honeybody for this!! peter and his adoring but burnt out gf

"Why are you home?" you ask.

Peter grins at you, a near lavish smile, leaned up against the doorway of your bedroom expectantly. "If you want to break up with me, there are nicer ways."

You rush to slip out of your shoes and practically throw yourself at him. If Peter's surprised he doesn't show it, lifting you easily up into his chest, your socked feet struggling to keep purchase with the rug.

"I missed you," you say. You don't mean to, but it's the truth.

Peter noses at your hairline. "I missed you. Glad we're not breaking up."

You huff a laugh against his cheek. He smells amazing but nothing like he usually does after his nightly patrols. There's a distinct lack of perspiration, only the warm stick of his deodorant and cologne. You kiss his cheek, the corner of his mouth, heart racing with excitement. It's not often you get him all to yourself.

You kiss him again and pull away. "Never. But seriously, why are you home? S'it my birthday?"

Peter takes a step back, unveiling the many different things spread out across your bedspread. You tear your eyes from him, wind-whipped and handsome and grinning, and feast your eyes on what he's done.

There's a basket's worth of different things in a range of colours, mostly skincare, your usual face wash and moisturiser, a green tea toner, serums, stuff you didn't even know Peter was aware of.

"What's all this for?" you ask, eyes widening when you spot new pyjamas nestled at the top of the bed near the pillows. You turn to him with a glowing smile. "Pete?"

"You haven't had time to yourself in ages. Or you haven't been making it, with finals coming up. Figured you couldn't avoid it if we did it together."

"Oh," you say, noticing that some of the things he's bought he's bought in pairs. Two sheet masks, two new pairs of socks. "Did you get yourself new pyjamas, too?"

He unzips his hoodie. Where usually you'd expect the spider-man suit, you find only a shirt that matches the one he's purchased for you.

He's expecting your second hug, arms opening wide. You fall into them.

"You're my favourite person on the planet," you declare, rubbing his collarbone with the side of your head.

"You're mine, bub." His voice is sweet and light, riddled with laughter, and his hands reflect that where they rub up and down the length of your back.

"All yours," you say agreeably, burying your face in his neck.

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x you #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fluff #return of the king #the amazing spider man #the amazing spider man fanfiction #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

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greenandsorrow · 27 days

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Headcanons for Samwise and Rosie meeting for the first time

I giggled when I saw this. I hope you'll like what I came up with for our sweethearts! 💛

Rosie lived with her family on South Lane, in a farm near Bywater. Her family had always been close to the Gamgees.

Sam was the youngest son of Hamfast Gamgee. He was the gardener of Frodo Baggins.

Everyone knows everybody in a place like Hobbiton. Consequently, Sam and Rosie were familiar with each other's faces long before they exchanged even a simple "good morning".

But that fact didn't make their first encounter any less exciting and nerve wracking.

Sam had always been in pure admiration of Rose Cotton. Her extremely curly hair, her extra puffy dresses... and not to mention the cheerfulness that she emitted while dancing, during the occasional event in the Shire.

He had a huge crash on her and the teasing jokes coming from Merry and Pippin -sometimes even from Mr.Frodo- only fueled his feelings for the young lass.

Unbeknownst to Sam but simultaneously luckily for him, Rosie saw in him a hardworking gentlehobbit. She was always kinder and faster to serve him when he would visit the Green Dragon.

But even with all that in mind, they had never actually met on a personal level.

It happened on a bright spring morning.

Rosie was out to fetch some fresh fish from the market. Sam was on his way to Bilbo's hobbit hole.

Sam's palms began sweating the moment she came in his field of vision.

Rosie's cheeks took a bright pink shade when she laid her eyes on him. One of her hands immediately went to fix her hair a bit.

Sam stuttered a greeting that was thankfully returned.

Rosie knew that the young hobbit was shy, something she found truly adorable, so she decided to take the initiative to ask him about his plans for the day.

Sam took this chance to talk to her with great enthusiasm.

He didn't want to admit it, but he always got jealous when other men talked to her at her work. It would make him feel insecure about his lack of courage to be the one to court her.

Not to insinuate that this was the only reason which made Samwise be so interested in miss Cotton.

Rosie was so lively and she liked flowers... just like he did. She could be a great company, a sun ray to warm up the coldest days of winter. Maybe she was the whole sun, at least in his eyes.

Their small talk wasn't of any importance if you were to view it as an outsider. To them however, it meant the whole world.

They were able to give permission to refer to each other more casually.

Samwise became Sam and Rose became Rosie.

The gardener even mastered up the courage to tell her she dances very gracefully.

Her giggle had made his knees go wobbly.

She returned the compliment in the best way possible...

"I saw how beautiful your peonies have gotten Sam. The whole village is talking about them!"

The goodbye that inevitably followed was awkward, but still sweet. Caution, shyness and eagerness all mixed together in a colourful haze.

A smile so wide it made their cheeks hurt was stuck with them for the rest of that day.

They just had to see each other again...

💛 tips are highly appreciated || masterlist

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snazzyladreal · 1 month

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my Kirby lgbtq+ headcanons :D

chart is mine

World where everyone is gay and straight is the minority

Blank charts:

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icedragonlizard · 1 month

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Kirby AU talk: "Friendship Really Does Shine Like A Star!"

This AU heavily rewrites the story of Star Allies, rewrites a small part of the story of Forgotten Land, and does a few more extra things. All the other games that take place before Star Allies and Forgotten Land stay the same.

Four big things happen here:

-The villain group in Star Allies is much more threatening in this AU.

-An extra wave of dream friends accompanies Kirby and co.

-All the dream friends show up in Forgotten Land in post-game.

-Some extra masks are added to Merry Magoland.

Now, let's go into all of this in detail.

Before this AU's Star Allies events begin, there's a prologue of Hyness attempting to use up all the dark energy the cult currently has to power up the Jamba heart in hopes of summoning Void Termina.

However... there's a problem. There's not enough dark energy to activate the Jamba heart. Void Termina cannot be summoned yet.

It's only about 60% complete. The cult needs to expand on its believers to radiate more dark energy to be capable of fully activating the Jamba heart. The cult is going to need to invade planets for this.

And so Hyness orders his three generals, The Three Mage Sisters, to take their armies and invade planets to force people to join the cult against their will. Each Mage Sister has her own respective army of Jammerjabs, and so there are three Jambastion armies out to force expansion for the cult. Hyness will stay at the Divine Terminus to keep watch, as this is the very area where he'll summon Void Termina.

The Mage Sisters start invading a handful of planets with their armies. They relentlessly coerce people in the cult by overpowering them and then throwing corrupted dark hearts at them (like how Kirby throws friend hearts). When someone is joined into the cult by being influenced by a dark heart, it radiates dark energy that the cult will then use to power up the Jamba heart to summon Void Termina.

After invading a planet, the Mage Sisters are then free to run rampant around it, causing random chaos and killing people with their weapons. The planets they invade become stomping grounds.

Planet Earthfall, Planet Misteen, Planet Caverna, Planet Frostak, Planet Towara and Star Lavadom all get conquered by the cult. Not just that, but their respective smaller-sized stars get conquered too.

There still isn't enough dark energy radiated from all those conquests, however. The cult will still need to invade more planets.

After the cult conquers all those planets, Popstar is the next planet that the cult has their eyes on. And it's a much bigger planet than all the previous planets that were conquered, so the cult deduces that it may be able to finally summon Void Termina if it conquers Popstar.

All three of the Mage Sisters come into Popstar with their respective armies in an attempt to dominate the peculiarly star-shaped planet.

This is, of course, when Kirby and all the dream friends get involved. This is when the group eventually bands together to stop the cult.

King Dedede and Meta Knight get captured and are fed dark hearts. Kirby will have to fight them to knock the dark influence out of them.

While Kirby saves Popstar from the cult's domination, the dream friends gradually tag alongside him as they're all trying to fight back as well. They all agree that joining up with Kirby will increase the odds of victory and to finally put the cult in their place. Bandana Waddle Dee is the first one to join Kirby, as they meet up shortly after the grand adventure begins. All of the others then show up at later points.

All the dream friends in the canon Star Allies show up. This, indeed, means the wave 1, wave 2 and wave 3 groups as we know them.

Rick, Kine, Coo, Gooey and Marx show up to join the team early on. Adeleine, Ribbon, Daroach and Dark Meta Knight show up to join the team sometime after Dedede gets saved. Magolor, Taranza and Susie show up to join the team sometime after Meta Knight gets saved.

But the troubles in Popstar aren't over after Meta Knight gets saved. The cult still has strongholds on some places on the planet. The group still has to eliminate those strongholds and chase the Mage Sisters and their armies out of Popstar. And after they get chased out of the planet, three more people then show up to join the star allies.

Yes, that's right. Three more dream friends. An entire new wave of dream friends joins the group. That means even more help! Hooray!

Here are the three extra dream friends that join the group:

Gryll swoops by to join the star allies. This silly onion witch lady was once an adversary to Kirby, but they've made up a long time after. She's a buddy now! She's got many magical powers that she can use to fight the cult with, such as spawning star blocks out of her hands that she can throw in rapid succession, and many other various magic that her broom is able to perform. Gryll seems to enjoy chaos, so she might go a little bit nuts when fighting alongside the others. Gryll also appears to have history with Marx, as they were happy to see each other when she came to join the team shortly before they depart from Planet Popstar.

Drawcia shows up?!? What a surprise!!! She didn't even make up with Kirby before this, but it's still very much appreciated that she seemingly wants to help with the rest! Able to use all the attacks that she did when she fought Kirby a long time ago before this, Drawcia will be sure to make a great asset to the star allies. That being said, though, while Drawcia appears to have softened up a little bit compared to before, she's still incredibly morally grey. She can be considered another 'evil token' star ally, similarly to Dark Meta Knight.

Prince Fluff was hoping for the day he'd assist Kirby in another adventure. He's proud to have finally gotten that chance now! He's a bit of a prideful one. Although Fluff isn't only joining just to feed his ego by adventuring with Kirby again, he's also joining because his home of Patch Land was being threatened by the cult. He found a way to lock up the sock that serves as the gateway to his home to prevent the cult from going there, and then he's ready to join. Fluff can use all the attacks that he used during his adventure with Kirby.

After these three join the team, and after the team leaves Popstar, they go to the Jambastion fortress when they saw the Mage Sisters flee there. They hunt the Mage Sisters down and beat them up again.

But the Mage Sisters still don't give up. They inform that they're still fully intent on getting the dark energy needed to summon their god, and that they've already made a lot of progress in doing so with the handful of planets they've already conquered before this. The time on the Jambastion fortress ends with Zan Partizanne maniacally laughing as she destroys the fortress, forcing the star allies to leave the area and to go save all the planets that the cult has dominated.

The star allies go to each of the corrupted planets one-by-one. They save the planets in mostly the same order as canon, except that Star Lavadom gets visited before Planet Towara. Planet Towara is the last of the conquered planets that the star allies rescues from the cult.

After the star allies free denizens of Planet Towara from the cult's influence, something terrible happens. The Mage Sisters appear to have planned a surprise attack, as they then ambush the star allies, catch them off guard, and they literally kidnap Kirby in the process.

Yes, you heard that right. The Mage Sisters kidnap Kirby. They then fly off, maniacally laughing as they carry the pink puffball with them back to the Jambandran base. This enrages all the other star allies, as they unite closer together with the collective goal to save Kirby.

Although Kirby already gets taken to Hyness before the star allies can get to him. The cult threw a bunch of dark hearts at Kirby, as he was refusing to let himself join the cult, but it still radiated dark energy.

When the star allies show up at the Divine Terminus, they beat up the Mage Sisters and Hyness, and then free Kirby. But after he's freed, Hyness then throws the Mage Sisters and himself onto the Jamba heart in a desperate attempt to power it up, and luckily for them, it just suddenly has enough power to finally summon Void Termina.

The star allies destroy Void Termina. Hyness and the Mage Sisters then end up finding themselves into Another Dimension, which kickstarts events that are very similar to that of the events of HiAD.

HiAD plays out mostly the same in this AU as it does in regular canon, but a difference in the ending. When Kirby throws friend hearts at the four cultists... it appears that there's something wrong.

Francisca, Flamberge and Hyness appear to come out perfectly fine, but Zan Partizanne appears to be seriously injured. She's still alive, but she clearly needs treatment or else she'll eventually die. Hyness and the other two Mage Sisters freak out over this. They profusely apologize to the star allies, and thankfully Kirby forgives them and is willing to help them out in saving Zan's life. Eventually, the cult goes back to their home in Jambandran base just in time while Zan is still alive, and they're able to get the necessary treatment for her to live.

Zan Partizanne survives a close brink of death. And she's then super grateful to the rest of the star allies for helping out in saving her.

Hyness and the Mage Sisters are then onto the star allies' good side.

They, as well as the rest of the star allies, regularly keep in touch with Kirby. This includes Dark Meta Knight and Drawcia, who didn't make up with Kirby before this adventure, but they then became friends with him during it. Kirby grew on everyone in the team afterwards.

All the star allies show up in Forgotten Land after Fecto Elfilis gets defeated. Most of Forgotten Land's events mainly stay the same as in canon, as the main adventure before the Fecto Elfilis fight is not changed. However, after Elfilis is defeated, and when Kirby and Elfilin have to save Leongar, that's when all the star allies show up in Waddle Dee Town, intending to help clean up the mess that occurred.

They all got there through Magolor's ship. The Lor Starcutter was able to locate the place of the Forgotten Land during the events of the main story, and so he gathered up all the other star allies. The Lor traveled through dimensions to get to the Forgotten Land. As they came there and helped clean up the place, they met Clawroline and the others of the Beast Pack. They'd then met Elfilin and Leongar after the latter finally gets saved. Kirby would've needed to help clean up the Forgotten Land otherwise, but it turns out that he doesn't need to. All the other star allies showed up to do exactly just that!

A portal gets set up for people to travel between Popstar and the Forgotten Land literally anytime. This is a gift from the Beast Pack.

When Magolor opens up his amusement park of Merry Magoland some time after, four more masks get added that aren't present in the actual Magoland in RTDL Deluxe. All the 86 masks that show up in the game are still present in this AU's Magoland, but 4 get added.

These four masks are based on Gryll, Prince Fluff, Gorimondo and Sillydillo. Not gonna lie, I'm not sure why they didn't have masks for the latter two when they have masks for the other two in the Beast Pack. And of course, Gryll and Prince Fluff could use Magoland masks since they're in the star allies in this AU.

Now there are 90 masks for Merry Magoland instead of 86.

That's basically it for the major events of this AU. Other than Gryll, Drawcia and Prince Fluff getting accustomed with the rest of the star allies and how those three interact with the others, but that's for another day. I may or may not make a separate post going over that!

With moments like all the star allies showing up to save Kirby after he's kidnapped by the Mage Sisters, and all the star allies showing up at the Forgotten Land through Magolor's ship to clean up the place, the name title given to this AU very much becomes a true statement.

Friendship really does shine like a star!

-----

That sums up the synopsis for this AU! I must thank you so much if you've taken the time to read it all. I know there's a lot here, but thanks regardless if you've gotten through it! This is a big juicy AU.

This is the last of the AUs that I'm making a synopsis for.

Here are the links to the other AUs I've made synopses for:

Dark Stormy Matters: Kracko fuses with Dark Matter in a desperate attempt to finally get back at Kirby with as much power as he can.

Memories Still At A Halt: Accidentally encountering an active clockwork star, Susie makes a wish to it that revives her dad. But he still doesn't recognize her as his daughter after being brought back.

Hope Within The Darkness: Morpho Knight makes the rare decision to bring the Dark Matter Swordsman back to life after watching him get horribly mistreated by the rest of the Dark Matter clan in hades. DMS adopts the name 'Blade' as he tries to fit in with Kirby and the rest of his friends, which ends up being extremely awkward at first.

If anyone decides to come to my inbox and ask something about one of these four AUs, I'd be hugely appreciative! I won't encourage it necessarily, but I'd love to hear people's feedback on any of these.

But with that, that ends the post. See y'all later!

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haemocyaninz · 1 year

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These guys since I havent drawn em in a while

[Image ID: 2 digital drawings of human versions of Kirby, Meta Knight, King Dedede, Bandanna Dee, Prince Fluff from the Kirby franchise. Kirby is drawn as a kid with 4 afro puffs (the top 2 are pink, bottom 2 are red), brown skin, and a chubby build.Meta Knight is drawn with straight dark blue hair tied back into a pony tail, light brown skin, a mole on his face, and a thin build. King Dedede is drawn with light blue hair cut short on his head, a mustache and beard , large eyebrows, brown skin, and a chubby build. Bandana Dee is drawn with orange shoulder length braids, a dark blue durag, a light orange mask, and a thin build. His dark brown skin has patches of lighter skin (from Vitiligo) on his face, hands, and elbows. Prince Fluff is drawn with light blue locs shoulder length locs, large eyebrows, dark brown skin, and a heavier build.

Image 1: Several sketches of the Dreamland group. The colored sketches are: a picture labeled “Short Kings” with Kirby standing behind and hugging Meta Knight with his mask tied up on the top of his head , Bandanna Dee throwing up 2 peace signs, Dedede smiling, Dedede without his hat, Kirby throwing their hands in the air saying “Pbttt”, and Kirby hugging Bandana Dee. The uncolored sketches are: maskless Meta Knight frowning, Meta Knight with is mask on, Kirby smiling and saying “YA”, and Kirby and Bandana Dee standing side by side as the former throw up a peace sign. In the corner is the phrase “ME ‘N THE BESTIE” in pink and orange colors.

Image 2: Sketches of Kirby and Prince Fluff titled “BABY CENTRAL”. In the top left is a picture of Kirby with their tongue sticking out labeled to describe their design. Their hair is 4 yarn balls instead of afro puffs with the phrase “Knit Needles” pointing to wear they stick out of their hair. “Tshirt” and “Sweater” are also label the layers of Kirbys outfit, which also has red shorts and boots. In the bottom right is a picture of Prince Fluff titled “PINCE FUFF”. He smiles and sticks put his tongue. He is wearing a light blue turtleneck sweater and orange shorts with green boots. The bottom left is the duo holding hands and smiling together. ./End ID.]

#described #eye contact #kirby #meta knight #king dedede #bandana dee #prince fluff #kirbys return to dreamland #kirbys epic yarn #kirby gijinka #human kirby #yeag

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babe-bombadil · 5 months

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Monumental Mischief

Summary: Boromir receives a mysterious bottle from Merry and Pippin. Havoc ensues. (Happens post-battle of Isengard on the journey back to Helm's Deep.)

Written for the 2023 @fall-for-tolkien event! Inspired by You Have Mail by @i-did-not-mean-to

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,184

Read on AO3 or below

“Um... Gandalf?”

The wizard looked up to see Pippin and Merry looking at him with what they surely thought were innocent smiles but he knew were devious grins. He narrowed his eyes at them and raised an eyebrow. Merry elbowed Pippin and he spoke again.

“We were wondering if there was any way to get some more of that Entwash that Treebeard gave us?”

“Purely for research purposes of course,” Merry interrupted.

“And we wouldn’t be drinking it ourselves, just, um, studying it some more. You know, to learn more about the mystical ways of the Ents,” Pippin finished.

Gandalf paused. He found himself in a difficult predicament. If he said no, the hobbits would never let it go. Constantly bugging him and asking for it every time he got a chance to sit down. It would be no use to explain to the pair that he did not have access to the draught. They were convinced he was all-powerful. However, Gandalf knew it would be an absolute disaster to give the young hobbits Ent-draught. They were already both taller than any hobbits Gandalf had known, and even if they did keep their word and not consume it themselves, they would surely be using it to wreak havoc on the company.

He kept silent for a moment, pondering his next move, when he was struck with a devious idea. Why not give the hobbits a taste of their own medicine? Surely no harm could be done, and they would all have a good laugh. He could use a splash of entertainment.

“Very well,” Gandalf replied. “I shall see if I can procure some for you. And I must say, I am delighted that you have decided to take a scholarly path. Run along now.”

That night, Boromir was laying out his bedroll when he found a small brown sack that had been slipped into his bag. Curious, he opened it to find a small glass bottle and a letter. He unfolded the note and attempted to decipher the scribbled handwriting.

Dear Boromir, Here is a little thank you present from your favorite members of the fellowship. It will help keep you strong so you can keep teaching us sword fighting. We know you’ll enjoy it!

Signed, Your favorite hobbit (and Pippin) Pippers and Merry Berry Merry and Pippin!

Boromir’s face split into a grin as he chuckled. He really did care for the hobbits and was honored they would give him a gift. In Gondor, the giving of a gift implied great respect and admiration. Apprentices often gave gifts to their masters to thank them for passing on their skills. Folding the note carefully and tucking it into his pocket, he turned to the vial. It was a rather peculiar shape, large at the bottom and curved to a small opening at the top, and filled with an amber liquid. He heard stifled giggles in the bushes nearest him and fought a smile. Perhaps it was hobbit custom to hide nearby while a friend opened your gift.

He pulled the cork out and downed the entire thing in one gulp. To his surprise, it tasted just like regular Gondorian mead. An odd thing to have, to be sure, and too small an amount for his liking, but he was grateful nonetheless. Too worn out from the day to question how his friends procured the drink, he laid down to sleep with a happy smile on his face. It was nice to be appreciated.

The next morning Boromir opened his eyes and stretched with a yawn. A smile set itself on his face as he sat up. His good mood was such that he even began to hum while packing up his bedroll. He had a feeling it was going to be a great day.

Swinging his pack over his shoulder, Boromir strolled over to where Aragorn, Pippin, and Merry were sitting eating breakfast.

“Good morning, friends,” he called out as he approached.

“Hey Boromir! You’re sure looking tall today,” Merry yelled back. He glanced at Pippin, who nodded his head emphatically.

“Even for a man, you seem very large,” the young hobbit added. “We’re so lucky to have such a tall and strong person in our company!”

“Isn’t he looking tall today, Aragorn?” Merry turned his head to look at his friend. Aragorn gave a tired sigh. He did not get enough sleep to deal with whatever antics the two hobbits dreamed up.

“Just finish your breakfast already. We need to get on the road.”

“Aragorn?”

The ranger sat up from where he had been starting a fire. “Yes, Boromir?”

The man took a deep breath. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Is it true what the hobbits have been saying all day? Am I actually looking a lot taller?” Boromir asked hesitantly.

Aragorn furrowed his brow. “If you’re looking for compliments, you’ll have to try someone else.”

“No, that's not it. It’s just…” Boromir hesitated. Aragorn set down his sword and turned his full attention to his companion.

“Yes?” he prodded.

“Well, the hobbits gave me a drink of some sort the other night and I assumed it was mead, but now I’m worried they somehow got their hands on some sort of growing potion,” Boromir rushed. Aragorn tried to keep his expression serious as he nodded.

“Growing potion.”

Boromir dragged his hand across his face. “I know it sounds fanciful, but they have been making comments about my height all day and it has made me worried! Even my boots don’t fit quite right anymore! Am I truly unnaturally tall today?”

Aragorn took a deep breath and pursed his lips to fight down a smile. It appeared that his friend was legitimately distressed, and it would not do to mock him now. He laid his hands on Boromir’s shoulders. “I promise that you look exactly the same height as yesterday. A completely normal height for a man. I do not know what Merry and Pippin were referring to, but can one ever know what those two are on about?”

Boromir, who had been holding his breath, heaved a sigh of relief. “I suppose I’ve overreacted. The hobbits were probably just trying to compliment me. Thank you, my friend.”

Gandalf smiled to himself. Giving the hobbits a fake potion was a genius plan, if he did say so himself. They couldn’t complain to him that it didn’t work, because to do so would admit they had given it to someone. And if they truly wanted to study it… well, Gandalf knew that definitely wasn’t true. He had successfully pranked the pranksters. Besides, the smallest part of him had enjoyed watching Boromir’s distress grow throughout the day. Such a valiant man being afraid of his height was extremely entertaining.

Suddenly anxious, the wizard reached into his saddle bag and ensured the palantír was still inside. He was afraid that with the prank having failed, young Pippin’s thoughts would again turn towards the stone. Oh, Gandalf wished the hobbit had never picked it up. Perhaps he would sleep with it tonight, just to be safe.

Thanks to @psyche-the-ya-protagonist for being my awesome beta reader!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Let me know your thoughts or personal headcanons!

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winterwafers · 2 years

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old kirby doodle batches i did forever ago

#kirby 64 #kirbys return to dreamland #kirbys epic yarn #kirby #ribbon #meta knight #king dedede #adeleine #bandana waddle dee #zero two #prince fluff #gooey #metadede #kirbyribbon #winterwafer art

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picnokinesis · 7 months

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Tagged by @archervale the sucker

first celebrity, outfit, quote, and aesthetic pic on pinterest is your vibe

Me before I opened pinterest: please be jodie whittaker please be jodie whittaker please -

Archie after I opened pinterest: whoa that is. a LOT of blood - Me: don't worry about it

I am going to tag: @gabeorelse @sunshinedaysforever @taardisblue and @novantinuum and anyone else who wants to do it!

#taka gets tagged #return of the fluff king #SSKSKSKSK I FEEL LIKE THIS IS....both me and not me HAHAHA #bless this was fun though #my pinterest feed was basically 100% campervan au suggestions HAHAHAHAH #taka rambles

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sttoru · 4 months

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‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk fluff #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #female reader

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yuujispinkhair · 2 months

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Boxer!Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask. Thank you so much for sending me that and making me lose my mind over Boxer!Sukuna.

Pairing: Boxer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, modern AU, smut, squirting. Mentions of boxing injuries, biting, blood. I know that boxers usually wear a groin protector, but I chose to ignore this for this AU because I wanted to write a sexy detail lol. Sukuna + Reader are in a relationship. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always wants you by his side backstage until it's time for him to enter the arena. You are his good luck charm and the only one who is allowed to wrap the bandages around his hands before he slips into his gloves. Not that he needs any luck with the skills he has, but he loves seeing you press your sweet kisses on his boxing gloves and smile at him before you hug him tightly and tell him to please be careful.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gets a warm feeling in his heart when he sees how worried you always are. Much more nervous before his fights than he is. But he always reassures you, wrapping his muscular tattooed arms tightly around you and hugging you to his firm body while he tells you, "Don't worry, princess. You know I never lose."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who smiles while you help him get dressed before a fight, helping him slip into the white silk kimono he wears for his ring entrance show. He can clear his mind the best when he feels your gentle hands caressing over his broad back.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gives you his most charming smile before he grabs your chin and asks you for a good luck kiss, not just on his boxing gloves but also on his lips.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always tells you he loves you before he leaves the backstage area. And hearing your "I love you, too" in return gives him another surge of motivation.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose ring-entrance show always makes the crowd go wild. The whole arena is bathed in blood-red light. A picture of an ancient shrine in a sea of blood gets projected onto the large screens. Dramatic classical music starts playing as a huge throne of skulls emerges from the fog, with Sukuna lounging casually on it, his head resting on the back of his hand. He's wearing the snow-white kimono and a crown on his pink hair, presenting himself as The King of Curses, which is his stage name.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose stage name fits him perfectly. One look at him and his powerful body and that dangerous and ambitious glint in his eyes, and everyone knows this guy is truly a King in the boxing ring.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gracefully walks towards the ring with an arrogant look on his tattooed face, only accompanied by his assistant Uraume, who walks a few steps behind him as if they are a loyal shrine servant who follows their master obediently. They take off Sukuna's kimono for him and bow respectfully while the crowd cheers loudly.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks intimidating but beautiful as he stands there with a posture like a God while the white silk slips off his broad shoulders and reveals all the firm muscles and the sexy tattoos on his tall, athletic body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who drops his serious act the moment he climbs into the ring and instead smirks his most charming smirk and lifts a hand to casually wave at his fans, letting them celebrate him as if he already won.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose last glance before every match belongs to you, though. As much as he enjoys the attention and worship from his fans, he always loves your gaze on him the most. You are the one who grounds him before a fight, the one who gives him the strength and the right mindset to lead him to victory.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes look directly into yours while he kisses his boxing gloves, at the same spot where your lips left their kisses a few minutes ago backstage. And right before he turns around to face the referee and his opponent, he winks at you and mouths, "I'll win this fight for you, baby".

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who already mocks his opponent before the fight even starts. Smiling tauntingly at him and asking him if he is scared. "You know, you can still run, little boy."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy during his fights. All of his attacks are powerful and well-planned. He moves gracefully through the ring, like a big cat on the prowl, beautiful and deadly. Everyone can see that he isn't someone who just relies on his brute strength. Sukuna is intelligent, and he uses his mind to win his fights.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is both hated and loved by the judges. They hate how cocky he is but admire his skills and respect him for how well-prepared he is for his matches.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wins most of his fights with a knockout, laughing triumphantly when the referee counts down the seconds.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who only loses fights when he gets disqualified for committing a foul. Sometimes, he bites his opponents, drawing blood with his sharp teeth and laughing as he licks the blood off his lips. You know that this is also part of Sukuna's strategy. He is too controlled to let himself get carried away during a fight, but he loves the reputation those bloody attacks give him, basking in the fear he sees in his opponents' eyes when he whispers to them before a fight, "Did you see the guy I bit last month? Let's see how your blood tastes on my tongue."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is brilliant at blocking punches but also cannot be stopped if he gets hit. You used to be worried sick when you saw him receiving blows to the head until Sukuna reassured you that he is allowing it on purpose. It's all for the show. And sometimes, because he craves the pain since, it will spur him on even more.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who laughs after every punch his opponent lands, smirking cat-like as he licks the blood off his cracked lip, and his wild maroon eyes glitter amusedly at the other guy: "Aww, was that all you can do, brat? Gimme more, come on! Punch me! Make me bleed for real, you coward!"

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy with his tattooed skin all sweaty, every muscle in his tall, strong body taut. His veins standing out, and his broad chest rising and sinking as he breathes deeply. The outline of his long, thick cock visible through his dark red boxing shorts, making you want him so much.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wears a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face when he gets declared winner. He looks deeply into your eyes when the referee yanks his hand into the air to signal his win. This first moment is always for you alone, mesmerizing maroon eyes silently telling you that Sukuna dedicates this win to you.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who then punches his fist into the air and does a little round in the ring to let the crowd celebrate him like the King that he is. He is a professional, giving his fans what they crave, even while he craves something very different at that moment after a match.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who expects you to wait for him in his private locker room backstage, naked and wet, with your legs spread, ready to get taken by him.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who takes you rough and hard. He needs to fuck you to come down again after being so pumped up during his fight. His tall, muscular body is still dripping with sweat, smelling so sexy, a mix of sweat and musk and his expensive cologne. His breath is loud and harsh in your ear, turning into low, hoarse groans as he pounds your cunt with his cock and his heavy balls, just like he pounded his opponent with his fists.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who rubs your swollen clit firmly and whispers dirty things in your ear, making sure you give him your everything and squirt all over him when you cum on his fat cock.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who coos at you and calls you his good girl, his love, as he chases his own orgasm, finally allowing himself to let go, fucking you with hard erratic thrusts, his face buried in your neck, moaning loudly until he captures your lips in a heated kiss when he shoots his hot cum into your cunt.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who cuddles you afterward, pressing himself tightly against you while he is still buried balls-deep inside you, resting his forehead against yours and thanking you for being his lucky charm and the one who gives him strength. He stays like that, pressing you down with his heavy body, kissing you tenderly until his breathing finally calms down and the sweat on his body begins to dry.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who picks you up and murmurs to you, "Hold on to me, princess," before he carries you to the shower, not letting go of you even for a second, needing his princess on his cock and in his arms.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who showers with you and lets you wash him, sighing when you massage shower gel into his taut muscles, caressing him, and cleaning him, easing the tension in his body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who returns the favor and lets his large, calloused hands wander gently over your naked and soaped-up body while he kisses you nonstop. Who caresses another orgasm out of you while you stroke his long thick cock slowly, making him spill his seed all over your hand.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who isn't the famous boxer, The King of Curses, anymore, when he is here under the shower with you. Here he is just Sukuna, your fiancé, who is joking around with you, all playful again, grinning that sexy grin and kissing you so sweetly, whispering against your skin how much you mean to him, and asking you where you want to have a late dinner tonight.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who fucks you once more, this time against the shower wall with your legs wrapped tightly around his hips and your hands in his pink hair. But this time, it is slow, sensual lovemaking. Slow, deep thrusts and tender French kisses until you both find completion at the same time and moan into each other's mouth. The perfect finish for a successful match.

HE IS SO SEXY 😭😭 I didn't know I would write so much for Boxer!Sukuna, but I enjoyed it so much to think of his dramatic ring-entrance show and the way he boxes, etc. I hope you enjoyed it too!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n

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thewulf · 8 days

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In the Arms of Fate || Aragorn

Summary: Request - During the war with Sauron, she gets kidnapped and tortured badly by Saruman. Aragorn and the others immediately get on a mission to rescue her and eventually find her barely alive... Read Rest Here

A/N: This was tough to write but I really like how it turned out. Thank you for the amazing requests anon, hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,600 +

TW: talks of torture, pain, reader gets taken, general LOTR triggers

In the middle of the raging war against Sauron you found yourself drawn to the Fellowship not only by fate but by your own unique blend of skills and qualities that made you an indispensable member of the group. Aragorn quickly recognized your unwavering loyalty and the depth of your courage. He insisted on your inclusion in the Fellowship. He saw in you a kindred spirit as someone who shared his determination to see the quest through to the end.

Your skills were varied and essential to the success of the Fellowship. As a seasoned fighter you were proficient in various forms of combat. You sported weapons with precision and grace. But it wasn't just your prowess on the battlefield that set you apart. It was also your keen intellect and quick thinking that made you invaluable to the group. You possessed a sharp mind and a strategic approach to problem-solving, often providing crucial insights and solutions during moments of peril. Even Legolas looked to you for guidance from time to time.

Gimli was initially skeptical of your presence in the Fellowship. But even he soon came to appreciate the depth of your skills and the strength of your character. Your friendship with him grew as you shared stories of battles fought and victories won. You formed a bond that transcended the differences between your races. Together you and Gimli formed a formidable duo. Your strengths complementing each other in ways that made the Fellowship stronger as a whole.

With Legolas, your relationship was characterized by playful banter and teasing exchanges. From the moment you met there was a natural rapport between you. It was like a shared understanding that lent itself to lighthearted jests and witty banter. Legolas never missed an opportunity to tease you. His playful remarks eliciting laughter and smiles even in the darkest of times. Despite the teasing there was a deep form of friendship between you. Formed through shared experiences and mutual respect. He loved to tease you, especially about a certain ranger that had captured your heart with ease. It was on one particular eve that Legolas had let you know that he knew too. He wasn’t blind. He caught your longing looks. But he too caught Aragorn staring right back at you.

The evening was alive with the crackling of the campfire and the soft rustle of the forest around you. As you sat beside the fire completely lost in thought, Legolas approached with his characteristic grace, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Ah, Y/N, lost in thought again?" he remarked. A teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. And he likely did.

You chuckled softly turning to face him. "Just contemplating our next move," you replied, though your thoughts were anything but focused on strategy. Instead, they drifted to a certain ranger sitting across the way who occupied far too much space in your mind.

Legolas arched an eyebrow, his keen gaze fixing on you with knowing amusement. "Or perhaps," he suggested with a knowing smirk, "you're pondering a particular king’s pining for you?"

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his words, and you sputtered in protest. "Wha—no, Legolas, you're imagining things," you stammered. It was a terrible attempt to brush off his teasing with a nervous laugh.

But Legolas only chuckled. His soft laughter mingling with the gentle crackle of the fire. "Oh, come now, Y/N,” he teased, his tone light and playful. "Even the trees can see the way he looks at you. And you him. It's as clear as the stars in the night sky."

You rolled your eyes. Though a part of you couldn't help but wonder if there was a kernel of truth to Legolas's jests. Aragorn's lingering glances and subtle gestures had not gone unnoticed by you. Though you had dismissed them as mere figments of your imagination. "He's just... concerned for my well-being, that's all," you insisted, though doubt lingered in the back of your mind. "We're friends, nothing more."

Legolas's smile widened as his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Of course, Y/N," he replied. His tone dripping with elvish sarcasm. "Just friends."

As he walked away quiet as ever leaving you to figure out you conflicting emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was more truth to Legolas's teasing than you dared to admit. But for now, you pushed aside your doubts instead focusing on the task at hand and the challenges that lay ahead. You couldn’t let that distract you of all things. You had Hobbits to find after all.

As for Aragorn, the dynamics of your relationship were markedly different. From the moment he laid eyes on you Aragorn was captivated by your strength, courage, and insane determination. He found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully explain. His heart skipping a beat whenever you were near. Despite his stoic demeanor Aragorn found himself unable to hide his feelings for you. His affection and admiration shining through in subtle gestures and meaningful glances. Whether it was a reassuring touch on the shoulder or a lingering gaze across the campfire Aragorn's love for you was evident to all who knew him. Maybe except for you.

And though you tried to hide it, the effect he had on you was undeniable. Your cheeks would flush with color whenever he spoke. Your heart deciding to skip a beat at the mere sound of his voice. Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure Aragorn had a way of unraveling your defenses. His presence stirring emotions within you that you struggled to contain.

The Battle of Helm's Deep raged on with unrelenting ferocity. The clash of steel and the roar of orcs echoing through the valley. As darkness descended upon the fortress you stood shoulder to shoulder with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Your heart was pounding with adrenaline, determination, and a touch of fear.

Together, you fought valiantly against the relentless tide of enemies. Your blades flashing in the dim light as you defended the walls of Helm's Deep with all your strength. But as the battle wore on fatigue began to set in and the odds seemed increasingly insurmountable. In the chaos of the fray the enemy's forces surged forward with renewed fury. You were overwhelmed. The defenders of Helm's Deep were overwhelmed with their sheer numbers. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli fought with unmatched skill and valor. Their resolve unbroken even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

In the middle the chaos and confusion tragedy struck for you. As the defenders of Helm's Deep rallied for one final stand you found yourself separated from your companions. Unfortunately surrounded by a horde of wargs and orcs. With grim determination you fought with all your might. Every strike of your blade a desperate attempt to fend off the encroaching darkness.

But it was not enough.

As the enemy closed in around you completely overwhelming you with their sheer numbers, you felt a surge of despair wash over you. Your strength faltered and your movements began growing sluggish as exhaustion threatened to consume you whole. And then in a moment of cruel fate you were seized by the snarling jaws of a warg. You were dragged away from the safety of the fortress just as the offenders began to retreat. You were a prize.

Aragorn's heart constricted with dread as he watched helplessly from afar. His voice lost amidst the din of battle as he called out your name in desperation. His pleas were a cruel reminder of how quickly things could change. With every fiber of his being he longed to rush to your aid. To fight tooth and nail to rescue you from the clutches of the enemy. But the tide of battle had turned, and he had no time to rush after you for he would likely die in the cause.

And so, as Helm's Deep fell silent in the wake of the enemy's retreat. Aragorn's heart weighed heavy with grief and guilt. For though the battle had been won. The cost had been immeasurable. And the fate of his beloved remained uncertain, lost amidst the darkness that lurked beyond the walls of Helm's Deep.

In the grim depths of Saruman's fortress, you endured unspeakable torment at the hands of your captors. From the moment they laid hands on you their cruelty knew no bounds. Their twisted minds delighting in the suffering they inflicted upon you. They reveled in your screams of agony. Their laughter echoing off the cold stone walls as they subjected you to unimaginable pain and suffering. Every blow, every cut, every moment of pain was a sickening game to them. A twisted form of entertainment that they relished with sadistic glee.

But despite their best efforts to break your spirit you refused to fold. With every fiber of your being you clung to life with a tenacity that defied comprehension. You endured their tortures with a steely resolve. Your will to survive burning bright even in the darkest of moments. They tried their best to break you. To strip away your humanity and reduce you to nothing more than a shell of your former self. But still you fought on. Your spirit unbroken even as your body bore the scars of their cruelty.

In the depths of despair, you found a flicker of hope—a tiny ember of defiance that refused to be extinguished. And though they tried to snuff it out. To drown it in a sea of pain and despair, still it burned bright within you. It was Aragorn. He was your salvation. Your thoughts that brought light within your darkness. You couldn’t break. Not when you knew was alive and fighting to see you again.

And so, as the minutes turned into days and the days turned into weeks, you clung to life with a determination that seemed to defy reason. For though they sought to destroy you. To crush your spirit beneath their heel. Still, you refused to surrender, your will to survive burning bright even in the face of unspeakable evil. You began to worry they may tire of you. That they may get bored and kill you despite your efforts to survive.

In the grim confines of Saruman's fortress sustenance was a meager and scarce commodity, doled out sparingly by your captors. Each day you received barely enough to sustain your frail body. The meager rations serving as a cruel reminder of your dire circumstances. The food was tasteless. The water stagnant and foul. Yet you choked it down with grim determination. You did it in hopes of seeing Aragorn again. Maybe just maybe you could confess your love to him for this journey made you finally realize your feelings for him.

You couldn't bear the thought of leaving this world laying bare the depths of your heart and soul to him. And so, even as your body grew weak and your spirit faltered, you held fast to the hope that one day, somehow, you would find your way back to him.

As the news of Saruman's demise spread throughout Middle earth a small bit of hope rose within the hearts of those who had suffered under his tyranny. For you, however, trapped within the depths of Orthanc's dungeons, the passing of the once-great wizard brought no relief from your torment.

Barely clinging to life as your body was ravaged by weeks of unspeakable suffering. You lay in darkness your breaths shallow and labored. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you teetered on the brink of oblivion. Your spirit beginning to falter by the weight of despair.

But in the cruelty of the shadows that engulfed you a faint whisper of hope stirred within your soul—a feeling, a sensation that you couldn't quite explain. It was as if a part of you knew deep down that your salvation was at hand. That somehow, someway, your beloved Aragorn was close and would come for you.

And come for you he did.

Driven by a gnawing sense of unease. A feeling that he couldn't shake, Aragorn ventured into the depths of Orthanc. His heart weighed heavy with dread and determination. Guided by instinct and a love that knew no bounds he searched tirelessly for any sign of your presence. His footsteps echoing through the cold stone corridors as it laid eerily quiet at Saruman’s demise.

And then, at long last, he found you.

Tucked away in the darkest recesses of the dungeons, barely visible amidst the shadows, lay your frail form. Your breaths barely there, faint. Aragorn's heart constricted with anguish at the sight of you, his beloved, so close to the brink of death.

With trembling hands and a voice choked with emotion. Aragorn gathered you into his arms. He cradled you against his chest as if he could shield you from the darkness that threatened to take you from him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he whispered words of love and reassurance. His voice was a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As he held you in his arms as gently as he could he broke down. "Gandalf! Legolas! Gimli! Anyone, help!" His cries reverberated through the silent halls of Orthanc. Each plea in desperation for your salvation. He cried for someone to come to your aid.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cradled you against his chest, his heart breaking at the sight of you—so frail, so vulnerable, so close to slipping away from him forever. He whispered for you to hold on. His voice raw with emotion as he begged you to stay with him just a little while longer. But you remained unconscious. Your breaths shallow and labored, your life hanging by the slimmest of threads.

As Aragorn's desperate calls for help echoed through the halls of Orthanc. His heart broke with fear and anguish. Though finally his cries were answered. Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli came running, drawn by the urgency and desperation in Aragorn's voice. Their faces paled at the sight that greeted them. Your frail form cradled in Aragorn's arms, barely clinging to life.

Gimli, his usually stoic demeanor crumbling in the face of such tragedy, sank to his knees beside you. His heart heavy with sorrow. "By the beard of Durin," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "What have they done to you, lass?"

Legolas with eyes wide of shock and horror, approached tentatively. His usual grace replaced by a raw vulnerability as tears welled in his eyes. "Nay, this cannot be," he whispered. His voice trembling with grief. "Not Y/N... not like this."

Gandalf had a grave expression on his face as he stepped forward. His gaze piercing as he took in the extent of your injuries. "We must act swiftly," he declared. His voice commanding. "There is still hope, but time is of the essence."

With a sense of urgency, they rallied together. Their hearts heavy with grief but their resolve unyielding. With shaking hands Aragorn carried you from the depths of Orthanc, his footsteps echoing heavy through the silent halls as they emerged into the light of day.

As time grew short and the urgency of the situation became increasingly apparent, Gandalf knew that swift action was needed to save you. With a wave of his staff and a word of command he called forth one of the Great Eagles. Ancient creatures who served as allies to the free peoples of middle earth.

As Gandalf summons the Great Eagle to take you to Lothlórien Aragorn's determination to stay by your side remained unyielding. With a glance at the rest of the Fellowship he knew that their journey will be swift on horseback as the Great Eagle could not carry them all.

"Aragorn," Gandalf begins, his voice carrying a sense of urgency, "time is of the essence. We must act swiftly to save Y/N."

Aragorn nods solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he turns to Gandalf. "I will take her on the eagle to ensure she receives the care she needs. The rest of you must ride with haste to Lothlórien. I will meet you there." Gandalf and the others exchange a knowing look. Understanding the weight of Aragorn's decision. With a nod of agreement Gandalf turned to the rest of the Fellowship.

"We ride for Lothlórien," Gandalf declares, his voice echoing with authority. "May the Valar watch over us all."

As Aragorn carries you in his arms and mounts the Great Eagle the rest of the Fellowship saddles their horses and sets off towards Lothlórien knowing it would delay their plans to get to Mordor. But for you they knew they had to. With a sense of urgency driving them forward they rode with haste. Their hearts heavy with worry yet filled with hope that you will receive the care and healing you so desperately need.

After what felt like a lifetime to Aragon Great Eagle descended upon the lush treetops of Lothlórien. Aragorn's urgent pleas for help echo through the elven realm. Celeborn alerted by the urgency in Aragorn's voice, rushed forward from the heart of Lothlórien.

With swift steps, Celeborn reaches Aragorn's side just as the eagle touched down. He sees the urgency in Aragorn's eyes and the battered state of your body and without a moment's hesitation he takes you from Aragorn's arms. His expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Bring her to me," Celeborn commands. His voice carrying an air of authority.

Aragorn watches with a mixture of relief and apprehension as Celeborn rushes towards the healing chambers of Lothlórien. His skilled hands cradling you gently. With each step Aragorn's heart pounds with worry, but he knows that you are in good hands.

As Celeborn disappears into the depths of Lothlórien Aragorn's thoughts turn to the rest of the Fellowship who are still traveling on horseback. He knows that they will arrive soon with their hearts heavy with concern for you. He worried for you. For Frodo and Sam who were continuing their journey ahead. For the delay all of this brought. But he couldn’t seem to care about that all knowing the woman he loved was on the brink of death. The woman who was always so full of life may be taken from him far too soon. Before he could confess his true feelings.

With a silent prayer on his lips, he followed Celeborn into the healing chambers. His determination to see you healed burning brighter than ever. And as he stands vigil by your side surrounded by the gentle beauty of Lothlórien, he knows that though the road ahead may be long and fraught with peril. But together you will face whatever challenges come your way

As hours pass in Lothlórien, Celeborn's efforts to heal you are met with frustratingly little progress. Despite his skill and knowledge your condition remains unchanged. Leaving both him and Aragorn filled with growing despair. Realizing that more drastic measures are needed, Celeborn calls upon his wife, Galadriel, for assistance. Together they work tirelessly through the and night. Their combined powers focused on bringing you back from the darkness of unconsciousness.

Aragorn watched with a heavy heart as Galadriel joins Celeborn in the healing chambers. Her presence a glimmer of hope amidst the peril that threatened to consume him. He knows that if anyone can help you it is the Lady of the Wood, with all her wisdom and grace.

Days turn into nights and still you remain unresponsive. You were lost in a realm of unconsciousness from which you seem unable to awaken. Aragorn's faith began to waver. His heart heavy with doubt and fear as he watches Galadriel and Celeborn work tirelessly to save you. But just when all seems lost, a miracle occurred. After a few days of ceaseless effort, Galadriel kneels beside your bedside and offers a rare prayer to the Valar. Her voice is soft but filled with conviction as she calls upon their aid. Her plea echoing through the halls of Lothlórien.

And then as if in response to her prayer, you stir from your slumber. Your eyes fluttering open for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Aragorn's heart leapt with joy as he watches you awaken. His faith restored in the power of love.

With tears of relief streaming down his cheeks, Aragorn gathers you into his arms. Holding you close as he whispers words of gratitude and love. As you lay there finally awake but still weak and fragile, Aragorn's emotions overwhelm him. Tears stream down his face as he gathers you into his arms holding you close with a fierce, desperate grip but gentle so not to hurt you further.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you more than words can express, my love. You cannot leave me again. Please, never leave me again. Please."

His words are a plea. A prayer whispered into the stillness of the healing chambers. His heart ached with the fear of losing you. The fear of facing a world without the light of your presence beside him. And as he holds you close, his tears mingling with yours. He knew that he would give anything to keep you safe. To protect you from harm. As he pours out his heart to you, he realizes just how much you mean to him—how much he needs you by his side, now and always.

"You love me?" you whisper. Your voice barely above a breath as you look up at him, your eyes searching his for confirmation.

Aragorn's laughter fills the air. A warm and comforting sound that washes over you like sunlight breaking through the clouds. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"Did I not make it so obvious my wayward love?" he replies, his voice teasing yet tender as he meets your gaze with a smile.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his words. You can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Galadriel and Celeborn who have been observing the exchange with amusement, share a knowing look, their eyes twinkling with mirth of the love unfolding before them.

But in that moment as you gaze into Aragorn's eyes and share a laugh together all your worries and fears seem to melt away. For in his arms surrounded by the love and support of your companion, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead you will face them with him. Your beloved.

And as the laughter fades into a comfortable silence, you rest your head against Aragorn's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. With his arms wrapped around you, you know that you are home.

As Celeborn and Galadriel summon the rest of the Fellowship, the healing chambers soon fill with the familiar faces of your companions. Their expressions a mix of relief and joy at the sight of you awake, alive and with that smile adorning your soft features.

Gimli with his gruff exterior softened by the depth of his concern, rushes forward to your side. His eyes were brimming with tears. "By Durin's beard, lass! I thought I'd never see you awake again," he exclaims, his voice trembling with emotion as he clasps your hand tightly in his own.

Gandalf had his wise eyes shining with warmth, approaches with a gentle smile. "It is good to see you awake, my dear friend," he spoke. His voice filled with genuine relief. "You have faced darkness and emerged victorious. You are stronger than you will ever know."

Legolas, his fair face radiant with joy, stepped forward with a soft smile. "I am glad to see you awake, mellon nin," he smiled to you. His voice gentle and sincere. "The world is a brighter place with you in it."

Merry and Pippin, their youthful exuberance infectious as always rush to your side with wide smiles on their faces. "You had us worried there for a moment," Merry says, his voice filled with relief. "But you're back with us now and that's all that matters."

Pippin nods eagerly as his eyes shining with unshed tears. "We thought we'd lost you," he admits, his voice wavering with emotion. "But you're a fighter, just like Aragorn said. You'll always come back to us."

As the Fellowship gathers around you with their voices filled with laughter and tears. You felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. As you were surrounded by the love and support of your friends you know that no matter what trials may come your way you will always have each other.

As the night descended upon Lothlórien after you woke, Aragorn remained by your side as the rest of the Fellowship retired. His love and devotion unwavering as he tends to your every need.

With gentle hands he washes away the grime and dirt of your ordeal away. His touch tender and reassuring against your skin. He cleanses away the scars of battle as his fingers trace each line and mark with care, as if trying to erase the memories of pain that linger there.

As he helps you change into fresh clothes his gaze never strays from yours. His eyes were filled with an intensity of emotion that took your breath away. He spoke softly. His voice a soothing melody that fills the silence of the healing chambers.

"You are my light in the dark," he whispered softly to you. His words a declaration of love that echoes in the stillness of the night. "You are the reason I fight, the reason I endure. Without you I am lost my love."

Tears fill your eyes at his words. The depth of his love overwhelming in its intensity. "And you are mine," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to touch his face. "You are the reason I am alive, the reason I kept going. Even in the worst of times."

As the soft glow of moonlight filters through the canopy of leaves above Aragorn's adoration for you seems to shine even brighter. With every touch, every whispered word, he worships you as if you were a goddess descended from the heavens themselves.

He kneels before you, his eyes alight with reverence. He places gentle kisses upon your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, as if each kiss is a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for blessing him with your presence. Thanking them for letting you live.

"I am unworthy of your love," he murmurs. His voice filled with sincerity as he gazes up at you with awe. "But I swear to you, I will spend every moment of my life trying to prove myself worthy of you."

His words melt your heart. Filling you with a warmth that spreads from the tips of your fingers to the depths of your soul. You reach out to cup his face in your hands, tracing the lines of his jaw with your fingers. Feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your touch.

"You are more than worthy," you whisper, your voice barely a breath as you gaze into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love reflected back at you. "You are my everything, Aragorn. Without you I am nothing."

As you hold each other close surrounded by the quiet beauty of the elven realm. You know that nothing in this world could ever tear you apart. For in each other's arms, you have found a love that transcends time and space. A love that is as boundless as the stars themselves and as enduring as the ages to come.

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wyvernest · 6 months

Text

soft s3x and grey sweats

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, tooth rotting fluff, miguel wears grey sweatpants, soft and loving sex, domesticity, unprotected piv

summary: miguel ft. grey sweatpants

A gentle drizzle splatters on the windows of your bedroom, tapping its soft, irregular crystal drops onto the glass only to wake you from your blissful nap.

You had fallen asleep with your head on his chest, invaded by the warmth of his body next to yours, the fascinating feeling of being home with him. You couldn't ever dare to ask for more than that.

With a spine-bending stretch, you step out of the cosiness of the king-sized bed following the realisation of his absence. Leaping down the stairs, you seek the comfort of him being near you like a throat-gripping vice.

You hear the water running, occasionally overlapped by clattering, dishes clanking and drawers being pushed shut.

You step out into the hall of your open-concept kitchen, linen stockings preventing even the subtlest noises of your movements from reaching him through the ambiance.

Your weight on the wooden floor is merely a gust of wind as you sit yourself into the corner of the sofa in order to watch him from up close.

You hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to adapt to the temperature change of the room, your flimsy top and panties doing little in covering your middle.

He hasn't turned to you since you hopped off the stairway. Arrogance tugs at the furthest corner of your mind after having sneaked behind his hyper vigilance, completely unnoticed. You seize the opportunity to study him in the absence of his piercing gaze fixed upon you.

Your eyes linger over the expanse of his broad back, the navy blue, short-sleeved shirt creasing in thin, cascading lines over his shoulder blades as he shifts his weight to his right, bicep bulging when he stretches his hand up into a cupboard.

You're more than delighted to note the easiness with which he attains things normally out of your reach.

Not only once did you call for his help to get you something from any place higher above you, having him stand behind you when doing so, and without fail him making sure to push his groin up against your ass in the process, prompting you to bend just slightly forward onto the board or sink in front of you before the simplest request for aid turned into you, taking him against any surface around the house.

It became quite the signal after a while. Whenever he heard you, 'Miguel! Come here for a second, baby’, his cock would fatten in advance at the sound of the command.

"Should've stayed upstairs, muñeca. I was making something for you." he snaps you out of your reverie, the sleepy raspiness in his voice deliciously running late over the last syllables of his remorseful disfavour.

While still not facing you, it turns out he was well-aware of your presence.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just watch." you excuse yourself, draping your midriff over the armrest, hands supporting your head on the soft cushions as you thaw at the sight of him cooking for you.

He returns to the kitchen island, his index finger mindlessly following the instructions he was mentally revising, before his eyes find you on the couch, scanning every patch of skin you have on display, as if sizing you up for his dessert.

He allows his vision to wash over your silky smooth thighs, your waistline that moulds into the hill of the pillows, the exact same way it moulds so erotically against him when he pistons his hips into yours.

With your pleading gaze inviting, thighs squeezed together in frustration, he is unsure of what to finish next, the pancakes, or you.

Your attention drops to the chubbed, prominent curve of his stiffening cock in his sweatpants, the shade of it nearly obscenely large, evident on the grey fabric. His hand slips down his crotch, lazily palming his dick through the material. You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, yearning growing unbearable.

"I have to let it rest. I'm all yours now." he suggests smugly, and part of you suspects that he had been needing to take you since you decided to flutter your eyes shut on the bed, arms coiled around his waist.

You shamelessly keep your eyes on target as he sets the dough bowl aside, approaching you with a heaviness in his pace that you know oh so well.

His dick twitches ever so slightly in his pants, hardening until its outline becomes lewdly evident, straining upwards into his pants in all its length and girth that ruptures you unforgivingly whenever he stuffs himself inside you.

Before he can even reach the sofa, your eager hands clutch his waist, feeling the rigid muscles underneath his shirt as you start planting gentle kisses down his abdomen, having him shudder at the contact even through the cotton fibre.

Your soft breasts meet his bulge in the process, offering nothing more than a few mere brushes that only rile him up more than he had hoped.

He drops his weight next to you on the cushions as the only way to avoid the urge to pull his cock out and shove it down your throat through your pretty, plush lips. He opts to rest his head back on the pillows, legs spread wide in front of him, taking up nearly all the space next to you.

Not a single moment is wasted before you take his cheeks in your hands, fingertips grazing his rough, barely visible stubble, pressing rushed, obsessive kisses all over his face.

You slide one leg over his, seeking the pressure of his broad, firm thigh to your clothed cunt.

His own hands are quick to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him, your chest flattened on his. His lips find yours through your loving pecks, deepening the kiss he caught you with, swiftly interrupted by a soft gasp of yours the second your ass meets his boner.

You teasingly lower yourself onto him gently, revelling in the feeling of the tip pressing harshly into the thin fabric of your panties.

Letting your hand travel down his firm chest, down his abdomen and over the sizable bulge in his sweatpants, you cup him through the material, applying just enough pressure to coax a groan out of his throat.

His wide thighs involuntarily flex on your sides and he twitches in your hand, a reminder of his force, his size in comparison to you, his ability to have you any time he wanted despite the position, despite your teasing.

His head leans back on the couch exposing his throat, eyes dazed out and fixed on the view of your breasts peeking from under your crop, visibly satisfied with the angle he found. Your boobs, round and soft, ever so inviting for him to knead in his large hands, he thinks.

Warm palms leave your hips to slide up your waist, disappearing under the cotton shirt, idly groping your chest.

You reel at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands on your smooth skin, touching and fondling in all the right places.

His knuckles protrude every now and then through the thin textile as he keeps massaging your breasts, feeling your pulse quicken with each deep breath you take.

Before you can even decide on your next move, you feel the blistering warmth of a splayed out hand on your back, propping you gently as he tilts you to the side, a familiar bow of such a dirty dance that has your thoughts melting out of your brain, your whole existential purpose being resumed to him alone in a matter of seconds.

He lays you down over the length of the couch with such care, such strength that has you submitting mindlessly, wrapping your frail arms around his neck. Legs up in the air, he has you just like he always does. Your blood boils through you, the ignition of nerves only he could ever cause.

He descends upon you, veiling your entire body in his, hands eagerly running over your body, playing you like an instrument that only sings for him, that only he can hold.

You sigh, taking in the scent of him, letting it invade your lungs like inhalants. The visceral musky cologne, with shades of a pine forest that had your thoughts run wild and senses sharpened.

Half lidded eyes accentuate his savagely, crimson irises and dilated pupils, the sheer sight of you under him never ceasing to rile him up bad enough to make him beg for your touch.

You squirm weakly; quickly enough he takes the hint and hooks his thumb around your panties, dragging them down your soft skin, impatience evident in his movements.

You feel the weight of his hard cock on your thigh, head going dizzy at the thought of its girth stretching you open, the thought of the pained groans that crawl out of his throat when he comes, his dick pulsating inside you.

He stills above you, eyes darting over your face, as if searching for something he had just remembered he was missing, a gaze condimented with adoration, curiosity, and a hesitancy you may only interpret as astonishment.

"No puedo creer que seas mía" (”Can't believe you're mine.”) he mutters, barely above a halted whisper, following the realisation of your rather perplexed demeanour when confronted with such antics. ”Makes me think that maybe", he pauses, "pushing through all the shit in my life made me worthy of you.”, he confesses, vulnerable and wounded.

You've caught smudges of this view of his before, only not this categorical. In a way, you find it quite the most heartwarming yet peculiar thing there is to know about him. He seeks the comfort of believing that all the suffering he endured meant something, a sacrificial lamb for him to ultimately earn the limitless love of your embrace, your affections and unwavering devotion.

It wasn’t pride that clawed at his memories of having conquered and survived when so many others didn’t in the same circumstances he faced. It was relief, the relief of a man that swam the ocean to find paradise.

And there you were, silk-smooth, gentle hands cupping his face with such infatuation he did not think possible, looking up at him like there wasn’t anything more beautiful in existence you would rather see.

His heart had inevitably melted into yours; now soldered together against all odds fate could bestow.

”I love you, Miguel. With or without your scars.”, you pull him into a reassuring, promise-sealing kiss, which he softly reciprocates, regaining his confidence and unyielding want.

His lips ghost over your jugular, relishing in the way your exhales halt in your throat, pausing in expectancy as his hot breath excites goosebumps over the satin skin of your exposed neck.

”I love you more.” he teases, lips latching onto your pulse point, lightly sucking hungry kisses down to the valley where your throat meets your shoulder.

Despite knowing how adamant you were about your own love being immeasurable, let alone any lesser than his, he took great joy in dramatically rivalling you on the matter, beclouding your fondness only to start a competition of who manages to sway the other with their words of pure worship and fidelity.

Whether there was another underlying reason for his racing I love you more’s, you do not know. Maybe a reminiscence of his mistrustful, defensive nature, reflecting its last slither of bewilderment into a seemingly innocent insistence that he, indeed, loved you more than you loved him.

How could he not? You had no knowledge of the things he had to do for his job, what it truly meant to risk everything for someone, to risk your life for another.

And he prefers it this way, to have you shielded away from the horror of finding yourself in that situation, from the heartbreak of even imagining the circumstances in which you may decide to give your life for him in all your passion, let alone pondering upon the choice and place the verdict upon your declaration of love, weighing it down in all gravity and seriousness of the pledge. In the depths of his mind, he dreads it, hearing you say, ‘I love you, I would give my life for you’, although he would do so for you without thinking twice.

He dreads knowing that his presence in your life could scar you so that you may have to die for him, that his soul alone could be stained in your blood, even only in hypothesis.

Therefore, he feels far more content thinking that you don’t quite love him as much, thinking that you, as perfect as you are, would not suffer should anything happen to him. That your attachment to him will only ever bring you nothing but joy.

And oh how he brought you joy. Pure bliss and paradisiacal rapture. Even more so when he held you so dearly against him, painting you in doting kisses, marks of which linger on your skin long after he’s departed.

His warm, broad hand sails down over the plushy mound of your breast, indulging in a layover just to squeeze lightly. To drift below; its tender, round shape fitting in the junction between his thumb and index finger; his palm seemingly continuing its travel down your waist before returning unexpectedly, massaging your soft tit after a run down and up your waist, making the butterflies in your belly grow agitatedly.

The meagre shudders of your body underneath his unpredictable and exciting touch, the silent whines that die in your throat as he kisses down the crook of your neck have his cock twitching in his pants, beads of precum gathering on the flushed tip, staining the material. You feel the unmistakable length of it poke your thigh, hard and thick.

"Eres tan buena conmigo" (”You’re so good to me.”) he breathes deeply, voice hoarse with restraint, lacing his words with a poised thread that wraps around your neck, earning him a fractured moan. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

Grabbing onto his massive shoulders for support, delighted with the way his muscles ripple under your soft hands as he continues his attack on your most sensitive spots he knows so well, you press your leg tentatively into his hard-on, an unspoken, considerate request for him to cease the teasing and chase his own pleasure.

“I want you”, you whisper breathily, finding your voice on the last word, accentuating the singularity of your need, the force with which you crave him, only him. “I love you, Miguel, I wanna make you happy.” you declare desperately, planting another suffocating kiss on his slightly agape lips, having him gasp softly into your mouth, a killer whale surfacing above the waterline for a superficial breath before diving back into the depths of the ocean.

He kisses you with such ardour, savouring the addictive taste of your delicate lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth like you hadn’t seen each other for months, like one of those desperate days in which he has his way with you right after he returns from a bone-chilling mission throughout the multiverse.

After ending the kiss with an unnecessarily harsh smooch, he draws back, making you giggle through unrelenting panting. He scans your face, absorbing the image of you, in your most defenceless self, so full of what can only be adoration for him.

He takes in your half-lidded, love-struck eyes, the look he thinks not even the bestest of painters of the world could capture on canvas. The look he thinks would be perverted in blasphemy should it be, even in attempt, recreated on any portrait, any sculpture, any photograph.

He follows the line of your jaw that cascades sharply into the crook of your neck, the only safe place for him to lay his head at night, the place he reveres to place the sweetest of kisses upon, having you either laugh or melt in his arms.

His vision then lands on your sore lips, exhaling the very air he breathes, uttering the same words that echoed in his head out in the field; ‘I love you, truly, entirely and through my whole being. With my body, heart and soul, oh, I love you.’

He dips his head down your waist in reverence, leaving gentle pecks down the line of your stomach. In any other instance, you would giddily chuckle at his ministrations, a chuckle that would soon turn into a hearty burst of laughter, as he knew just the spots to touch and tickle and make you reel in retaliation when play-fighting on a particularly lazy Sunday evening.

However, now, there was no impulse to laugh. You watch him closely as he reaches the crease of your pelvic bone, looking up to meet your gaze.

You feel your face heat up at the sight of him, a strong hand wrapped around your thigh, the other holding your middle.

Satisfied with the moans he successfully drove out of you, breaths getting heavy at the thought of how wet you have to be by now, he sits up on his knees to hurriedly haul his shirt over his head.

His dick grows harder at the familiar picture of you, laid back on the sofa, eyes glazed with drunken want and the remembrance of his feverish touch on you.

Letting your hands roam his chest and firm abdomen while he disposes of the shirt, you curl your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, carefully dragging them down his bulky thighs, eyes widening as his cock springs upwards from the grey fabric, hitting his stomach before ever-so-slightly bending to the right under its generous weight.

You let yourself fall back into the cosy corner of the couch, parting your legs with lascivious speed while watching him stroke his now glistening cock, eyes trained on yours.

A vigorous, bulging forearm anchors next to your head, the other guiding himself inside you. His mountainous shoulders block any view of the room aside from him, and you obey the impulse to run your hands over his biceps, his pecs, his jaw.

You draw in a sharp breath at the contact of his fat tip on your wet folds, rubbing into the dampness at the entrance before breaching you.

You whimper softly, trying to adjust. No matter how many times you have sex, it always takes you time to adapt to his size, to fit him inside you to the hilt.

His forehead rests against yours as he pushes further in, a gentle hand coming to collect a few unruly strands of hair from your face. It stops to cup your fiery, rosy cheek, his thumb grazing your dainty skin protectively, soothingly, before his arm docks symmetrically to the other, beside your head to balance his weight on top of you.

Your tear-welled eyes flutter shut, the dip between your brows deepening and rising into an unspoken plea for a one-second pause. He stops, knowing of your struggles despite your fervent insistences that he may always bottom out regardless of your aches.

He cannot bring himself to cause you discomfort in any way, even under the greenlight of your sincere consent.

“I know, love, I’m sorry.”, he pacifies you, and you’re overwhelmed by his attentive care, starting to rain messy, fatigued kisses over each patch of skin on his face within reach. He returns the gesture in earnest, covering your features in slow smooches.

It calms you, allowing him to push all the way inside your tight cunt, grunting into your temple as you tense around his shaft the moment his tip presses against your cervix.

A loud sigh that swiftly leaves your agape mouth tells him to proceed. His hips start gyrating languidly, his dick exits you only halfway, coated in your juices, before driving back in with a quiet squelch. You throw your head back on the pillows, legs coiled securely around his waist as he makes love to you, laying you onto a cloud of pleasure.

"Ugh, oh-," he groans, his voice deep and rugged, mirroring his own mind-numbing bliss, “you feel so good”. With his head now leaned into your chest, his heavy breaths are hot on your skin, timed with the drive of his hips into yours.

He starts going faster, yet the force of his thrusts still soft. The second he finds the puffy nub of nerves that snaps firecrackers in your lower belly, you grab at the mattress, gasping and moaning weakly. Muted whines are put out in your throat as you close your mouth to swallow a kiss your body had craved to give him.

His shoulders flex under his weight as he picks up more speed, nearing his high and finding the rhythm you know only leads to those desperate grunts that have you coming only from their sound alone.

He pushes into his thrusts, rubbing the coarse hair above the base of his cock on your clit. Your back contorts and arches in response, gifting him an even more delicious angle for the precise rolls of his hips.

You choke on a pained scream that dissolves into your limbs as you come hard, your orgasm washing over you in drumming tidal waves, crashing onto you with every drive of his fat cock into your soft, drenched cunt.

"Oh-- ugh, yeah- so good," he groans into your rose, kiss-marked neck, seemingly taken aback by the force of his own euphoria, as if he had been expecting a gentle current of ecstasy as result of his intendedly soft and gentle session of lovemaking, instead being met a fierce jolt of elation. He stills, holding a breath from erupting out of his throat into a shaky moan.

The bridge of his nose is pressed perfectly into your neck, a sculpture-worthy puzzle of two souls sewn together. His hot palm seeks the feeling of your smooth skin, landing shy of your waist, holding you against him with the firmness of a man who heeds every longing you had ever voiced, who heeds the closeness you had always coveted as you rode the rapids of your orgasm.

The pressure hammers into you in aftershocks, hauling you back down in fading flutters, pulsing into your lower belly as he tenses, pushing his hips flush against your ass with one final blow, releasing into the warmth of your cunt.

You clench faintly at the feeling of his fat cock spasming and twitching inside you, catching on to the last gust of your high.

He groans in oversensitivity, pulling out before carefully placing his broad hand in between your thighs, tenderly cupping your dripping pussy to prevent his come from staining the peppered grey couch. You flinch at the contact, not having fully recovered from the stimulation.

He leans into you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You turn to him instinctively, unable to find your voice or enough strength in your arms to do anything but gaze up at him with the face he knew so well; the euphoria-painted face you grace him with when his love overflows your body, teeming into your watery eyes.

Sitting up, he unpacks a thin, white blanket from the opposite edge of the sofa, cocooning you into the clean, fresh fabric. You hum in comfort, struggling to chase the warmth of his arms as he tucks the edges of the material underneath the contour of your body.

”Just stay here for a bit.”, he whispers into your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “ I‘m almost done with your surprise.”

“You want me to help?” you resort to a last-chance inquiry in hopes of finding an excuse to sit beside him for longer, even in the kitchen.

He knows you’re well-intended, but decides to better value the total credit of his courteous offering.

You will most certainly keep the stakes up and stubbornly get dinner ready for him on the very next occasion you find, so he might as well echo your stubbornness and finish his task alone, meeting great satisfaction in spoiling you with the opportunity your body has given him.

“No te preocupes, (Don't worry.) I’ll manage.”

You dramatically reach for him with your extended arms as he heads towards the kitchen. He throws you a sympathetic smile before resuming his cooking, fully aware that a considerable part of him would have wanted nothing more than to rush back into your arms and spend the rest of the evening smothering you into his warm embrace, play fighting you into submitting to his self-indulgent caresses and kisses.

divider by @cafekitsune

spanish translations by @bookished 🤍(tysm!!)

50% requested by @badbitchhour (ik u wanted a wedding night but my brain short-circuited when i tried to write it, it's still coming tho!!! meanwhile made the very soft and emotional lovemaking part til i get around it and start feeling it)

a/n: don't pick on me for the extremely creative! title i wanted to make shit clear from the start. (clickbaiting)

also smut authors try not to use the same words and phrases for every sex scene without using things like 'wand' and 'shaft' (challenge impossible)

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