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#company x reader
justalittlehoneybee · 10 months
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The casting for the company in The Hobbit is phenomenal
Graham McTavish (Dwalin) hitting the gym as soon as he got the part
Jed Brophy (Nori) trying to steal as much stuff on set as he can and Mark Hadlow (Dori) telling him to put it back
Mark Hadlow (Dori) texting Adam Brown (Ori) “Are you okay?” and mothering him all the time
Aidan Turner (Kili) and Dean O’Gorman (Fili) being the trouble makers on set and teasing all the other dwarves
Stephen Hunter (Bombur) constantly snacking on set
James Nesbit (Bofur) and his Irish humor
Richard Armitage (Thorin) constantly feeling the pressure of his role and responsibilities
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moonrainbowfish · 2 years
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Imagine the dwarves being super outraged when they find out you've been made fun of because of your body hair. As someone who was often a bit hairier than my peers I was often teased because of it. So just imagining the dwarves telling you your body hair is beautiful and you're absolutely gorgeous the way you are is honestly the sweetest thing ever to me. I just know they would totally kill anyone with an axe who dares mock their loved one
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HI I don’t know if your request are open so I figured I would send one anyway and then if they were closed you could just ignore it lol
BUT I had this idea and it’s been in my head for days and I don’t feel like writing it myself soooooo
Do you think you can do a one-shot or, yk, whatever you’re comfortable with, for a Legolas x Reader where the reader is kinda like Jaskier? Like they’re dramatic af, are a bard, and isn’t an elf but has somehow just been alive and in peak condition for way longer then they should’ve been? Like Legolas and Reader don’t really get along at first when they met because Reader was traveling with Thorin and Company and stuff and even after he figured out they weren’t bad he was still like “my GOD are they annoying.”
And then Gandalf seeks them out after the fellowship is formed they’re actually super useful bc they know like 10 languages, have traveled almost everywhere, and is actually very good with a sword. Gandalf brings the fellowship to a seemingly random tavern and Legolas just stops bc he recognizes them immediately and is just like “oh my god, PLEASE NOT THEM FU—“
But yk after that they like fall in love and shiz 🙄
SORRY THIS IS LIKE SO SPECIFIC OR UR NOT TAKING REQUEST it’s just I love ur writing, no other lotr blogs I’ve found are taking request, and also you seem to like Jaskier so I figured u might enjoy this a little ?? 😭😭
ANYWAYS EVEN IF YOU DON’T WRITE THIS THANKS FOR READING IT AND I LOVE UR WRITING SM ITS SO GOOD 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Sing Me A River (Legolas x Bard! Reader)
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Author’s Note: HELLOOOO, FELLOW DEAR HEART! My requests technically are always open, it’s just a matter of if I ever get around to them lmao. Naturally, I get a lot of requests. Even more naturally, someone requests something and throws the word ‘Jaskier’ in there I’m writing this baby ASAP. Now, this thing grew legs of its own so you’ll probably have to request a part two in the asks so I can get that to you. I just really wanted to put something out tonight, so boom, two-parter. Maybe three. Hey, let’s just see where it goes. Now, believe me when I say I tried to find a gif that wasn’t Jaskier, but apparently if you type in ‘medieval bard lute gif’ into Google images Jaskier is the golden child of the hour. Anywhooooo hope this is what you were going for! I’ll get onto part two soon — you just gotta put it in the asks!
Warnings: Crude jokes made by reader all for the sake of the guts and glory of an epic banger of a song. Mentions adult content. (Bards will be bards).
Synopsis: Like all relevant characters of Middle-earth back in the day, you joined the Company on their Go-Fund-Me campaign to reclaim Erebor. You were a nobody bard back then but the success of your relations with kings and stories of defeating dragons made you a big hit. Speaking of hit, you and Legolas don’t get on. You made one too many hits about him that painted his royal family in a bad light. Oops. Now, Sauron is back and the Fellowship may just need your help. It’s mostly just Gandalf vouching for you, though. Oh, and fangirl Boromir ofc. They find you singing a frankly defamatory song about Legolas in a lively tavern at the height of your fame (you’re essentially One Direction circa 2012 big in Middle-earth in this fic). Tension brews as you’re ultimately asked to join a second Go-Fund-Me campaign.
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The evening was late in hour but early of chores, as Gandalf and Elrond poured themselves over maps of Middle-earth. Various members of the newly-formed Fellowship hung about the open-aired room, pondering each other with curious glances.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably, wondering who’d prove to be the best travel mate for the next few months. It was as if no one knew what to do with their hands or feet, as they stood about awkwardly.
What was there to talk about, anyway? Economic investments and the rising housing crisis in the wake of the upcoming war? With so many races in the room, it was hard to navigate cultural customs, let alone figure out who was of what social standing based on clothing alone. A prince certainly had no place discussing such mutual matters with a gardener, nor a Captain of Gondor with a ranger.
No, it was best everyone waited until Gandalf and Elrond announced a travel route.
“This would steer you best from the path of both Isengard and its scouts,” Elrond concluded, pointing and dragging one finger down the tattered map.
“That’ll bring us into long-overrun townships,” Gandalf pointed out. “Middle-earth is no longer the safely presumptuous-centric land it used to be. People from all over Arda have now flocked for its resources and previously-thought safety.”
“Secrecy is best bought when surrounded by languages that cannot understand you nor you them,” Elrond countered, raising a brow and looking up at the wizard.
Gandalf raised a hand and scratched at his wiry beard. “No… But perhaps we could benefit from an additional team member for the passage? One who knows, say, ten languages across the seas and land underfoot?”
Elrond’s face quickly fell into disapproval. He moved back from the map as if standing too close to it would conjure up the bard’s presence alone, for said bard certainly dwelled somewhere within it, if the local posters unceremoniously plastered on historical podiums in Rivendell detailing the latest show were proof enough alone.
Legolas noticed this behaviour and kicked himself off the wall. He’d had run-ins with bards before – or, one, at least, and one was certainly enough. He quit twirling a knife in his hands, a gift from his father for his begetday long ago, and paid close attention.
“Ten languages would most certainly aid you, but…” the usually reserved lord made a face of cringe, “must you really bring along your friend? Do you even know where they are?”
Gandalf suddenly looked bashful. He reached into his satchel and removed a flyer. It had your pouty face on it and colourful words detailing where your next show was and the date. “I meant to visit them for one of their shows, before getting side-tracked…”
Elrond tried to not judge his friend, as he glanced up from your poster and back to Gandalf. He raised his brows and sighed, resigning himself to the idea. You had certainly grown in fame over the last few decades since your efforts in fighting the dragon fueled your reputation and songs, and certainly the fame had added to your already eccentric ego.
“Very well, if that is your will, I will support it… Just, don’t invite them back for a concert, please; my sons are still recovering from the last one, as is my winery.”
Gandalf nodded at the lord and smiled. “Nonsense, our bard is of the utmost integrity. I have nothing but faith.”
Legolas looked between the lord and wizard, quirking a brow. He tried to view the poster before it was placed back inside the satchel, but alas Gandalf unknowingly blocked his view.
But then, the prince suddenly recalled you in full detail from the fight against the dragon, and your time spent in the Mirkwood dungeons. You were clearly mortal, and that was many years ago.
Satisfied with the thought, Legolas nodded to himself in reassurance. There was no way you were still alive and kicking. With any luck, you were fast asleep in a chair somewhere, millions of leagues away.
~
Oh, you were in a chair alright. Except standing on top of it, one foot on the backrest and one on the seat. You certainly weren’t asleep, either, nor was your performance lulling anyone into such a slumber. There would be no lullabies here tonight, good sir.
Instead, on top of the chair, you belted out lyrics to the song you wrote about your time captured in Mirkwood with the Company, using the foot on the backrest to push the chair downwards, where you dramatically landed on the floor and kept on playing around the lively tavern with your lute.
Folks of all nationalities and origins joined in, for how could they not? You knew how to play the song in over ten different languages and were finally onto the Common Speech version. Everyone sung along as you made your way around the floor, illuminated in a thousand different arrays of golden candlelight.
You alluded to the Mirkwood Elves being absolute idiots, to put it lightly. It was only unfortunate that the Fellowship, led by Gandalf, walked in the moment you made a crude innuendo about Legolas’ hair being nearly as pasty as the spider’s webs surrounding his forested home. Something about incest, too.
It wasn’t very nice, but what could you say? You hated the pretentious white-haired family and they you. Perhaps composing a ballad with the dwarves about the elves’ wine-stained teeth in the dungeons planted the seed of distaste in the first place, but alas.
Gimli clapped his hands merrily and tapped his foot. “Oh-ho-ho! ‘Tis a CLASSIC back home! I’ve been meaning to meet the bard from my father’s tales for many years now! What an honourable night. Let us drink to it!”
Pippin nodded faster than light at Gimli and then Merry, speaking before racing off with his cousin and dwarven friend to the bar.
“Aye! We’ve heard this one, too! Even all the way out in the Shire!” Pippin looked up at Legolas, who’d just walked in with Aragorn right behind him. “Funny, I didn’t know there were other white-haired elves such as yourself and your father in Mirkwood, your highness. What are the chances of that!”
Just then, you sung of Legolas by title and name, confirming every crude lyric to be indeed about him towards the end of the song. Something mean about his father, too.
Pippin’s mouth parted and his brows shot up in surprise. He quickly shrugged it off, though – looking up at the elf casually before joining Merry and Gimli by the bar. “Oh, they are singing about you! That makes more sense!”
Legolas furrowed his own brows, looking away from the departing hobbit and across the tavern right as you came to the finale of the song, earning rapturous applause. And then, his eyes grew wide.
Gandalf looked bashful as he stood with Boromir. The captain was grinning at your performance – whistling as you took a dramatic bow as the cheers carried on. Frodo and Sam looked between each other but shared a silent nod, and afterwards, they joined the rest at the bar.
Seething, the prince snapped his gaze up at Gandalf. “THEM? Are you SERIOUS? How could you possibly not tell me?! They are the most arrogant, dim-witted, crude, annoying—”
“Now, now, Legolas,” Gandalf cut in, placing a hand on the swiftly rising elf’s shoulders. “Y/n and yourself may have an… adverse history, but that whole Mirkwood incident was put to rest years ago. If I recall, you both parted ways amicably at the end of the battle. There may have even been a smile, too, if I recall very well!”
“Overjoyed to be rid, as I remember it,” Legolas rolled his eyes, landing them in your direction. You took a sip of ale and felt a gaze, or, glare, lingering in your direction. When you locked eyes with the angry ones of the prince, you widened them for only a moment, before narrowing them and smirking mischievously.
Oh, he didn’t like that.
Hoisting your sloshing ale out to the side, you widened both arms. You were stood atop a tavern table, now pointing in the prince’s direction.
“Oh, my stars! Do my eyes deceive me?” Your naturally loud voice caught the attention of the tavern again, who all no doubt were hoping for an encore. “Ladies and gentleman, if it isn’t the star of the hour! Well, besides me, of course – but no, I should share the limelight; it’s the muse of my song, Legolas of the Woodland Realm!”
Everyone all looked in his direction. Many laughed loudly, some whistled appreciatively, and others who believed the lyrics muttered behind cupped hands to conceal their words and grins.
Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t good to bring this much attention to themselves, especially given the circumstances. One look from Aragorn sent up at Gandalf voiced his concern. The wizard nodded back and drew you over with a beckoning hand.
You finished off the rest of your ale and encouraged other bards to pick up the music again. Once the sound of flutes and lutes filled the air, you made your way through the crowd, placing your hand over your heart and responding earnestly to every compliment as you walked past.
"Y/n! I saw you play when I was a child!"
"My niece is a HUGE fan!"
"Do you sing at weddings?!"
And soon enough, you were in front of the trio.
“Gandalf the Grey,” you grinned up, slinging your lute across your back.
He responded warmly, throwing your bard title in as he did so. “You’ve exceeded your previous standing upon the pedestal of fame. Apparently, this song has been heard all over the land.”
At the mention of the song, you turned to Legolas. “Ahh, has it now? Judging by the star-struck expression upon your oddly fine-tuned visage, I’m guessing this is your first time?”
Legolas narrowed his eyes and kept them locked on yours. “First and last time.”
Without missing a beat, you replied, “Aw, buddy. Don’t worry. Being a two-thousand-year-old virgin isn’t that weird. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”
His face dropped. “Wha—No! That’s not at all what I—”
“I must say, dear bard,” Boromir cut in, firmly shaking your hand. “My little brother and I have seen you perform in Gondor before, and we are both great admirers of your work. Might I please trouble you for a signature made out to ‘Faramir’? I might not get this opportunity again.”
You shrugged it off coolly. “Yeah, sure! Always happy to meet a fan!”
Legolas stared in horror at the interaction for a moment. “What is happening right now..?”
Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped in. “Y/n, I’m afraid we have not only come for review of your work tonight.”
At that, he looked up at Gandalf urgingly. The wizard sighed and nodded. “Indeed not. Might there be somewhere more private we can talk?”
Briefly looking up from the signature you were writing on a handkerchief, you nodded your head from side to side in thought and pursed your lips, speaking as you wrote. “I’ve got a room here. I’m not sure we’ll all fit, but I suppose we can figure something out."
You sent a wink Legolas’ way, whose face was still frozen somewhere between contemplation, shock, and horror.
“You should be dead,” he decided upon moments later.
Feigning alarm, you looked over your shoulder. “Why? The song really that bad? You hired the world’s worst assassin to take me out and they couldn’t even finish the job?”
Learning how to dance with your words again, Legolas replied straight to the point. “You look the same as you did all those years ago. You’re mortal. You should be dead, or very, very elderly, at the least.”
You blinked back at him. “Was there a question in there somewhere, or…?”
Noticing all the attention you were drawing, Gandalf and Aragorn decided to usher this meeting along elsewhere.
“Ah, Y/n,” Gandalf slid in, smiling tensely as he noticed Legolas’ fingers curl backwards, as if instinctively reaching for his bow. “Perhaps we should continue this upstairs? We have much to discuss, as mentioned before.”
You raked your eyes over the prince’s face for a further few seconds. He all but glared back. You dropped your eyes to his hands, noticing the way they curled the same as the wizard did. Smirking, you looked back up into the prince’s eyes – locking them there as you responded to Gandalf.
“Great idea.”
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The hobbit x reader
Bilbo x child reader
Bilbo bagging was known as a play boy in the shire, not just to hobbit lads and lasses.
So when it comes to the dwarfs and Gandalf arrive to Rivendell, they are surprised by Elrond knowing his name, but only meeting him for the fist time in person?
Imagine even more to there suppries to a Gorgon (snake hair) child running to Bilbo yelling father!
Bilbos daughter has been studying with lord Elrond for a year.
Bonus if you put (y/n) asks if Thorin is your new mommy, que the dwarfs laughing.
Thorin x Bilbo
father!Bilbo x child!reader
You didn't precise the gender of the child so I used They \ them. (gn! reader).
waning: My bad writing, this is my first request so I hope you like it.
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In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. The name of the Hobbit was Bilbo Baggins.
Bilbo Baggins was a very known hobbit beyond the Shine. He used to be a "playboy" in his "youth", as he liked to call it, but now he had stopped after that God offered him one of the most magnificent gifts in all his life.
Now he was offered a second gift, but this time he was relucted in taking it, but he eventually come around as he saw a small possibility of seeing his baby, his child.
As you may have guessed, Bilbo's first gift was for a child. A child not like the others. They were everything to him, the only person who brought out the best of him.
He could remember every detail about them, every first thing, their first step, their first word, he was there to see it. Unfortunately, he may not watch them grow, as The ugly orc hunted them down, and even with the brown wizard driving them away, they still got caught, forcing them to fight.
"Where are you leading us?" Thorin asked his eyes burning with anger, yet the grey wizard didn't respond, he just turned to him with a scowl planted on his face before he continue moving, and as much as Thorin wanted to argue with the Gandalf, he knew they didn't have time, either they follow him or they die.
They fought their way or rather the Drwaf did, to a cave where they followed a mysterious path, Leading them to a beautiful place, full of immense buildings connected to each other, and everything about it screamed majestically. It was nothing compared to what Bilbo had seen in his life.
"Valley of Imladris, in the common time, it's known but another name" Gandalf exclaimed his face full of joy at the familiar place.
"Rivendell" Bilbo continued for the grey wizard. He felt a sense of relief and happiness for different reasons from Gandalf. He couldn't believe he was standing a few feet away from the place, where…
"Here lies the last and only house of east of the sea" Gandalf interrupted Bilbo's thoughts, explaining to everyone (Biblo) the brief history of the place.
"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy" thorin spitted, his face showing every little bit of hate he had towards the Elvens.
"You have no enemies here Thorin Ocanshild" Gandalf's face turned to a scroll again at Thron, who he felt disappointed for letting his hate cloud his mind.
"the only ill will to fear in this valley is what you bring yourself" Gandalf continued eying the young prince in front of him. While Bilbo stood there, on Gandalf's side, his hand moving in the air. He couldn't help the smile that grow on his face, and he shyly tilted his head in an attempt to hide it until it disappear, yet it never did, not when they walked to the entrance, not even when the Lord addressed him, with knowing eyes.
"Mrs Baggins" Loard unacknowledged the Hobbit's presence, who just nodded his head. Which resulted in suspicious looks sent his way, especially from the grey wizard, who was more than sure that the two never meet.
"I didn't know you were an acquaintance of mister Baggins, Lord Elrond" Gandalf questioned, raising an eyebrow, giving Baggins a quick glance over his shoulder. The Lord only smiled in response.
They all enter and Bilbo didn't even notice, his eyes were busy searching for something or someone. He was absent-minded, that he didn't even notice the grumpy Drawf, passing the map to Lord Elrond, who gave it one look before ordering his man to bring his apprentice, and before Thorin could protest, Gandalf shut him out with a stern look.
"Papa!" Their head snapped toward the voice, to see a child, not like the other. A few feet away was a child running toward them, before throwing themselves on the hobbit who catch them quickly like a reflection.
"(Y/N)" He lifted you up, smiling with watery eyes at your happy expression that he longed for.
Oh, how much did he miss you.
"Who is that?" One of the dwarfs asked, cutting the small father-child reunion.
"This is my child, (Y/N)" Bilbo pointed at the child beside him, who smiled at the company before saluting them in the Eleven way.
"Greetings to Thorin II "Oakenshield son of Thráin II, king under the mountain and his company. I'm (Y/N) daughter of Bilbo Baggins, apprentice of Lord Elnord " You stood high earning a proud look out from Lord Elrond.
"Wait you have a child!!!" the dwarves' jaws dropped, except Thorin whose brain was connecting the dots. He understood now, why Bilbo Baggins' eyes lit up, why he was so eager to enter the palace, and why the Elef seem to know he was.
Biblo turns away hiding from the company glares. How dare he not tell us, that's what they all were thinking about, while you just stood there smiling so brightly like the sun, they had to close their eyes.
"But you look so much different than each other?" Kili voiced thorin question, which earned him a deep blush of embarrassment from Bilbo not like they could see it.
You look at your father, noticing the red on the tip of his ears making you giggle. You knew your father so you decided to explain.
"My father used to be..what was the name.." Your eyes turn to the right side "Ah…a playboy…My father used to be a playboy, he was known as beyond the shire, in all the lads and lasses." The dwarfs again turn to the shy Hobbit as he hides his face this time with his hands, as he remembers something.
"I'm Gorgon(child with snake hair) just like a mother" You elucidated when you notice the looks of disbelief in their eyes.
"That explains a lot" They nodded to each other, before turning back to Bilbo.
The hurt on Thorin was evident, and you notice it, as he glared at your father. Like he was ready to kill him. At first, it scared you until you notice the jealousy, and that is when it hit you. Thorin was in love with your father, and think that he's married. but does your father reciprocate this feeling?
Yes, he does! He was giving an apologetic smile to Thorin, who scoffed, and you saw an opportunity so you took it.
You tugged your father's sleeve before asking "Is he, my new mama?" You turn to Thorin when your father just kept looking at you with wide eyes "Are you my new mama?" Thorin'eyes almost popped out of his skull. He starts stuttering before he turned to the laughing dwarf with a glare that could shut up anyone, but they couldn't stop.
It was too hilarious, seeing flustered Thorin. Rare sight!
"(Y/N)!" Bilbo run to your side, "What?" you blinked innocently, "You luve him, he luves you and you are my pap so he is my new mama" You explained in a matter-of-fact tone, just causing the dwarves to laugh more and more, some were even on the floor, crying!
Even Lord Elnord and Gandalf were laughing, their heart out at the two flustered males.
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❤️‍🩹~You had a bad day? 🌻 Grab some comfort 🥺 from this shelf here~
Warmth and Solace by @laurfilijames​
The storm outside wake you, but you have Fili to keep you warm.
Remedy by @laurfilijames
Prim comes home tired and in pain thanks to her period. Modern!Fili knows just how to help. This fic is NSFW and contains smut and period blood.
Rockslide by @immawriteyouthings
After hiding your hirsutism from the company, they become ecstatic that you are a bearded human lass. You mistake their eagerness as mockery and they comfort you. Kind of Kili x
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blankdblank · 1 year
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Stay Or Go
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Got a request for a FtM trans reader who ends up in Middle Earth with the Company who help them when they run out of their hormone meds. With mention of post top surgery scars. (Again I am so sorry it took me nearly two months to get this out of my head. My mental brainstorming slump has been rough to get out of.)
I went with Xo instead of Y/N while typing, as my phone kept editing to weird stuff while I was on lunch at work, and it kind of goes with the they/them pronouns I used alongside 3rd POV. Also Xo is human and called a ‘Big Person’ in the story but is just mortal and taller than the Dwarves, which Thorin is 5ft2 and considered tall for his people, so they don’t have to be over 6ft when you picture them. Hope you like it, and the trouble for Xo starts when their last bottle of testosterone hormone breaks on them, Fili and Kili of course are there at their service to help them calm down. :)
***
@random-thoughts-004, @devilishminx328, @theincaprincess, @lilith15000​, @jesevans​
...
Glass bottle in hand Xo stood staring at the single dose of the medicine that was the only gateway to all they could have dreamed of since they were a small child and had put a name to an ingrained feeling. Nothing could shake the fact that they knew they were born in the wrong body, but the universe damn sure tried to rock it loose every chance it got. Just like today.
The law is such a fickle thing and as a duo of Congressmen under the banner of a clear seeing eyeball was righting the morals of the world now banning any gender reassignment meds and surgeries, amongst other things to dehumanize any minority possible, within the borders of these lands.
This was Xo’s last dose and with skin itching at the urge to shout and scream and go down in a riotous rage at the news they had to keep it safely nestled within their grip. Noise of bodies on the walkway behind them inside the hall of the medical office where they had come to see if they could beg their counselor in charge of this transition for more as they had to each time before to prove each time they had not and would not change their mind. The usually stone faced doctor now was found grinning ear to ear with legal reinforcements to their refusal to treat this particular so called mental delusion within this already morally uptight area of the county.
They had to move and get home and think of what to do. Already shoving back the gnawing echoes of comments from family and those they worked with who had been sure to comment and share similar arguments to what the grinning doctor had tried to coax them into realizing all this time, they were wrong. Something was wrong however, like through an unseen fae ring with the bump of a sturdy fur coat adorned shoulder into their elbow down the bottle plummeted to shatter atop a cobbled pathway that had Xo grunt in fruitless anger and mounting emotional pain.
“Ki!” Fili exclaimed to his younger brother who he had just been arguing with over the best time to depart in the morning as they had arrived to Bree early.
“I am so sorry!” Kili exclaimed, the brothers now facing the taller stranger with almost pleading eyes to show the internal tug of their youth to pout and beg for forgiveness even as they had just barely crossed into their adulthood years. “Whatever that was we will replace it!”
Fili nodded, “Double, the supply, if possible from the Glass Smith.” He took a glance down at the metal capped useless tiny bottle. “I cannot imagine what spice it was intended to hold but at the size the Smith must carry a vast quantity yet!”
“It,” Xo spoke unsteadily, “It can’t be replaced. The bottle is useless without my medicine.”
Kili said, “The Healer is still at their stall, we just passed them by. Come, we will explain the fault is ours!”
Fili nodded with his brother and said to start their joint greeting, “Fili and Kili, sons of Vili.” And Fili continued alone, “We are of the Longbeard clan our kin have good reputation with the Big People of Bree they will entrust it is the truth.”
“Bree,” Xo whispered internally as their mental dread now plummeted to a level of panic to have them in the cusp of passing out as they now knew they were not even in their own world anymore. “They won’t have my testosterone.”
Kili narrowed his eyes at the odd name, “Perhaps they have a medicine of another name but just as useful, what is it meant for?”
Dry mouthed Xo drew in a breath as they tried to not allow their knees to buckle as the edges of their vision began to blur. Now surely bent on ticking down to the inevitable collapse. “For, for my transition into a man.”
“Hobbit Root!” They both exclaimed together and smiled up at the stranger.
Kili said, “How fortunate that we are expected in The Shire tomorrow where the most potent of it grows! You can travel with us and we will replace your supply.” His brows furrowed again, “Only, the last I recall it is the size of a turnip and that bottle was far too small to contain a bulb.”
He looked at his brother who nodded, “We have a cousin who shared there was two doses required for their change, you appear to be between doses as well, quite painful to be extended over doses by what we hear. Curious we have yet to hear of Big People who make use of Hobbit Root, although we have had little exposure to Big People beyond those who travel to the Blue Mountains bound to be a fair supply nearer to where Hobbits barter.”
Kili asked, “How did the bottle be useful for the bulb, if you don’t mind my curiosity?”
Xo at the new option now felt a chill through their body that now seemed to stall on the unconscious time clock at this odd news of a strange root named bulb these two oddballs spoke of. “Testosterone isn’t a bulb, it is a liquid dose you inject weekly.”
“Weekly?!” They both asked and looked at one another then back up at Xo with a protective glint in their eyes.
Fili said, “Whatever snake oil salesman who pitched that liquid surely was bent on extending the profit of their goods!” He scoffed, “Boiling Hobbit Root and selling weekly doses to extend pain upon his victimized customers. You see that bastard you point him out to us!”
“Or better yet our cousin Ori will meet us tomorrow and will sketch their face for you. We will send copies to all Hobbitons and Dwarf lands, they cross their borders and will be strung up and flogged. Come, we will secure our rooms for the night pay your supper and for the new supply in the morning, double, triple dose or otherwise until you are satisfied of a full change.”
.
Prancing Pony, not exactly like it was in the films as best Xo recalled. Sat inside a giant barrel of a private tub surrounded by more tubs they stared at the water just soaking in the heat withholding their urge to cry while staring down at their own unflatteringly angled reflection between clouds of bubbles wading across the surface of the hot water.
Inside the tub next to them was the brothers, who with their smaller bodies could share one of the large barrel tubs, the both who had stolen glances as the female attendants here who entered occasionally to offer mead or towels and soap of the scars across their pectorals. Another bit of hard won progress they had to leave the country to achieve as the grinning doctor had again and again put off the approval for said top surgery and had been fuming at the shortcut taken only to retaliate with stricter verbal battles for each dose of hormones.
If this root didn’t work they had no idea what they would look like or what they would be trapped as inside this new and unfamiliar place. They certainly weren’t safe as they wished to be in their old world and now this one even more so.
All the same they dunked under the surface of the water to ruffle out their hair realizing the forgotten shampoo they used and let sit while lost to thoughts when a stinging line of it rolled down to get into their eye. Straight up when they had gotten enough of the water out of their hair they stood, fisting a towel they held over their groin in the climb out of the tub. Wrapping the cover around their hips in the process to get on the warm wooden planks to bridge the path out of the bathhouse to the changing room.
Laid across the spare bed inside the room with two in it where a tale of a harrowing battle was expected of the scars similar to a relative whose way to have earned the battle scars the brothers listened to the unbelievable tale of the process for this change in the unknown world Xo spoke of.
.
“We gave our word, Uncle.” Fili and Kili spoke lowly to him as the curious Hobbit eyed the tall stranger who crouched in his front hall with hold of a telling set of roots.
Bad mannered Dwarves be damned he was a Baggins and with hand extended he grinned and said, “Come in young Xo, I will prepare your roots and offer my most accommodating bed so that you might take some ease whilst your body breaks and boils out of its cocoon.”
“When, it what?” Xo squeaked out as they were being led to the kitchenette off the side of a soothing bedroom used for births and many maladies of any variety a Hobbit might have to face to not suffer while inside their prized bedroom out of an old superstition that would have this room cleansed in various ways beyond the obvious afterwards.
.
Two days, as if sent through fire and then water and propelled through about any physical barrier constructed by man or imagination could construct their body truly broke and boiled internally to this metamorphosis.
Just glimpses was what they recalled, of blurry faces and voices of comforting tales to strength sustaining snacks of broths and soft squishy pellets of a mixture of potatoes and type of bread shared of tales from both Hobbit and Dwarf kind.
Each member of the Company took their turn on watch to sit with the Big Person enduring this physical battle. Singing songs and warmly comforting the small bouts of worries shared of the possibility of what comes after like a parent would to a small child who awoke from some night terror. Tenderly handling the messiest or unpleasant tasks with as much respect and trust that they would hope to receive from a Healer of any culture sworn to abide the weary and worn.
Only for Xo to awake and groggily make their way to the bath to stand aside and let the Hobbit fill the water for a cleansing herb bath and catch sight of their reflection.
Fingers raised they just had to touch it, almost afraid it was a window and some stranger was staring back at them. Bits and pieces of older relatives could be spotted in some form of resemblance. Not identical to any one but easy enough to be seen amongst the clan as clearly one of them off various parts.
The scars were still there, all those they received and aspired for in their prior form and still they didn’t know what to think. There wasn’t exactly a face or exact build they had aspired to, but they guessed the gradual process to get where they were meant to would have helped to not have this moment of shock and need to swear to themself they would get used to this new version of themself.
“Bath is ready, Xo, just soak and we will finish the stew. No worries on that silly journey of theirs yet. You just keep your spirits up and take the evening to acclimate to your upright self again.”
“Thank you,” Xo stammered out and was given a kind smile by the Hobbit in the close of the door.
“No need,” the voice faded behind the wooden barrier amongst voice of the Dwarves who were sharing they had bartered for more supplies for their trip now hoarding up the front hall that was only welcomed by the Hobbit so he could keep his meddling cousins in the Sackville line away by lie of their being too many bodies inside his Smial already.
.
“We have bartered for a full set of supplies for yourself and we have a second horse just about your size, perhaps a bit bigger, however your legs clearly will be able to reach none the less with the saddle paired to it, adjustable stirrups and all. Spare layers and a traveling cloak, bedroll and ample pocketed pack.” The thirteen Dwarves smiled up at them proudly.
“I, have no money.” Xo stammered out. Unable to stay here as Bilbo was leaving and no idea what was ahead to face if they did agree to tag along.
Balin waved a hand, “All that is needed is your signature on the contract. The repayment will be taken from your portion of the treasure hoard.”
“I, alright. I need a pen.” Feather quill inside a bottle of ink lifted between them and Xo nodded taking hold of it and the contract Gloin was holding for them on Balin’s right. “Right,” one signature and in the line of bodies to exit the round green door they took their place to walk off into the great unknown of their days ahead to face their new life in this new world.
.
Sleeping on the ground and days atop a horse certainly didn’t help the chance to feel comfortable in this new form, but each bath time that once imagined illusion of a reflection now changed subtly in shape still by the week. Both muscle and tone adjusted underneath weeks of dirt and wear of the body building energy draining travel.
A process oddly satisfying as they now knew at least some figment of a limit to what their new shape could take and gradually claimed the new inches and angles of it while use of a spared dagger at the side of one of the elder Dwarves brought about the new skill of keeping control of their facial hair in all of its intricacies and wishes to lay or where it chose to grow or not.
.
The Elf King, far beyond the escaped lands of Rivendell now issued a charge to arms and call for aid from Saruman and Radagast while Elf Forces of Lothlorien and Rivendell were readied to March to battle. Wider details of their former home had been shared and red blurred the vision of the scar hiding King who knew just what foul duo was hiding behind that duo boasting a giant eye on their banners.
Battle was called and with aid of the White and Brown Wizards it raged through the old world from where Xo had been taken.
The face in those wanted posters Xo supplied the details for now matched the head upon a spike as people from their former life crowded the oddly silent streets in the aftermath of the bloody battle. Huddled together and whispering when bold enough of these strangers who saved them from this unseen enemy while more powerful voices ushered up a call for change and kindness within legal circles.
Family, coworkers, no one knew who Xo could be, as they looked now. Just what they always hoped, to be here and as a man amongst them accepted and not shown shame and scorn
“Xo?!” Thorin’s voice turned their head to look back at the Company who stood amongst the Elven forces readying to return. “Will you return with us? We understand-,” his sentence broke off as Xo could clearly see the anguish and hope muddled in the eyes of the Company and Elves who knew them, whether it be for short off a brief time, the weight of those bonds and those tied to the people who saw them as a stranger tugged at them mercilessly.
Where would they go? Where would they stay?
Thorin couldn’t finish his sentence, if they chose to stay. If they chose to go they lost the chance to do as they hoped, one day to just return fresh faced and free to live amongst them without shame or pain of the failure to gain their love and acceptance as they truly were.
“Do I stay?” Xo whispered to themselves in a second glance between their options.
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lxvvie · 7 months
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Y'all know that whole trend that was going around social media with women calling their significant other by their full name? Yeah, that one. Yet another conversation was had, this time it was about the reactions your favorite babygurls would have if you called them by their full government name because of reasons. Maybe.
Capt. John Price - He's, uh, startled but not enough to drop his cigar this time. Does take a puff of it, though, before addressing you like it's the calm before the storm. Isn't too fazed because he heard it enough from his own mom growing up and he figures he's suave and diplomatic enough to placate you.
Gaz - Pointedly ignores you while giving you side glances here and there which is a major indicator that he's gotten into some shit. Probably. More than likely. Yeah... it was Soap's fault.
Alex Keller - Actually did get into some shit. Does not answer the call of duty.
Soap - You hear 'ah, shit', heavy footsteps, probably a crash, and Soap's peeking his head out from the other room. Has a deer-in-headlights look about him. It was Gaz's fault, goddamnit. He's so adorable. It's enough to make you giggle.
Ghost - You get a grunt. And then it hits him. He stops doing whatever it is he's doing. Fuck, he knows that tone. Simon turns to look at you and he stares into your soul or something like that. What in the hell kind of made-up middle name is that? You spend the better part of a good minute staring each other down before you're all, "I love you ♥️," and Ghost groans and rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. But not before he grunts out a "Love ya, too." in return.
Alejandro - This is one of the few things that'll actually faze the man. Will damn near break his neck turning to face you to see what's wrong and his eyes will be wide. Oh, the last time he heard his full name called like that was from his beloved grandmother and he'd gotten into some shit then, okay?
Rudy - Ducks his head. Doesn't show his face; he can't bear the sternness of your voice, your gaze. It wasn't him this time, he swears; it remains, though, the way you say his name, an echo in his mind: Ro-DOL-fo. Why'd you have the emphasize THAT part of his name, huh?
König - König.exe stops working. Actually does break something trying to get to you. His eyes are fucking saucers, okay? Oh shit, what did he do this time, Schatz? Are you getting him back after that one time he snuck up on you to surprise you and you dropped dinner? Did you find out about the time he accidentally messed up the laundry and the white clothes came out pink? WHAT DOES HE HAVE TO DO FIX THIS?! Oh, you... just needed him to grab something off the top shelf for you.
Horangi - Also did some shit. Is unapologetic about it. Hits you with a nonchalant, "Yeah?"
Graves - STAYS IN SOME SHIT, OKAY? Saunters in like the smug bastard he is. Smirks and winks at you. "Haven't heard that name in a while, darlin'. What's your fancy?"
Valeria - Pulls a Uno Reverse and calls you by your full government name. Wait―
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frogchiro · 5 months
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What’s gonna happen to hacker girl after no nut november?! 👀
I initially wanted to say she's walking out straight up pregnant but then it came to me- bold of us to presume that they'd last😭
While it totally is a dick fighting competition to them to prove who is better in...you don't even know at this point but you can see your men get more and more aggravated and fussy with every day into this challenge, you only bid your time before one of them breaks.
(Un)surprisingly the first one to break was always brash and loud Johnny :/ But he couldn't help himself! You were just so so pretty in that cute pastel sweater and skirt, bend over a desk and typing quickly away at some code you were writing but the only thing the Scottish man could focus on was your nice, shapely, broad hips and ass sticking out as if inviting him :(
Call him weak willed but...Who the fuck cares?? He's pent up, he's horny and his balls genuinely start to ache from a the build up sperm so the nest thing you know is you letting out a confused 'huh' and the feeling of a large, heavy body covering yours, two bulky arms wrapping around you and that low, growly voice snarling
"Yer way too tempting y'know that lass?"
Obviously the rest of the guys heard the commotion coming from your bedroom and they burst in on the exact moment of Soap holding you tightly against his side right after rolling off of you after his 3rd orgasm, his sperm dribbling out slow and thick out of your poor pussy :(
They were stunned at first but before they could start to yell and argue they saw Johnny's smug grin and your tired, sleepy face cuddled into his neck, letting out tiny mewls whike caressing your belly. They could call Soap a weak willed looser and a sucker but honestly? To him, they were the suckers bc he at least got to cum in their darling first😭💕
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sky-is-the-limit · 6 months
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Now that I'm thinking about it, Alejandro was kinda overdramatic cause if that man took over my base, I'd also give him my house, car, my men to detain, my 3 holes to fill-
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kingkatsuki · 3 months
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One more and then I’ll stop but like seriously imagine this hulking brute of a man preparing to mount his dragon to return home to his Kingdom after successfully pillaging another village. The loot strapped to the sides of the dragons as he stands victorious, covered head to toe in a sheen of drying blood that for the most part isn’t his.
And as he’s preparing to leave he notices something moving in the foliage out of the corner of his eye. Immediately reaching for his axe as he holds it up high, ready to strike— when he sees a small bunny rabbit struggling beneath a wicker basket. The poor animal looks injured, its paw a deep crimson that rivals his eyes and his first thought is to put it out of its misery and take it home as part of the feast.
But then he thinks of you, and the way you tremble in front of him much like the little rabbit in front of him now. Sliding his axe back into his belt as he crouches down to pick up the struggling animal, caging it in large palms as he holds it uncharacteristicly gently to his chest. Walking back to his dragon as his men call out to him.
“That’s barely a snack for a dragon, King.” Sero calls out, grinning from ear to ear as Bakugou shoots him a glare.
“Do you want me to put it with the rest of the food?” Kirishima offers as he reaches out to take the bunny by the ears.
“No,” Bakugou mutters gruffly, opening a sachel at the side of his beast as he places the rabbit gently inside. His men raise their brows but know better than to say anything as they take off, returning back home before nightfall.
The Kingdom is in celebration as the team return, gathering the spoils as a feast is prepared for tonight. And Bakugou decides to clean himself up before seeking you out, worried that if he found you covered in the blood of his enemies you’d never talk to him again. It was much like he looked the first time he found you; and he’ll remember that terrified look for the rest of his days.
Changing into fresh cloth and furs as he makes his way towards your room, and even though he’s trying to be respectful he still doesn’t knock. Stepping inside to see you curled up by a fire with a book that you quickly put down when you notice him, the tension in your body doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou who tries to be less intimidating. A difficult feat for a man who’s waged wars on nations, and spilt more blood than the rivers that flow outside the Kingdom.
He’s silent as he crouches, setting his sachel down in front of him as he opens it. Rough hands reach in to take out the quivering bunny rabbit, which you stare at with wide eyes.
“It reminded me of you.” He rasps, holding the animal out to you as you crawl over to him from your position in front of the fire. Gentle hands taking the rabbit from him as you hold him against your chest, soft fingers stroking at its fur.
“You’re not going to cook him after, are you?”
And Bakugou can’t help but smile at your question, it’s the first time you’ve seen him do so and it softens the strong frown lines against his face. His eyes rounder, fierce gaze less intense as he moves to sit on the floor beside you with thick thighs outstretched.
“He looked like he needed someone to look after him.”
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justalittlehoneybee · 2 years
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Kili: This is my wife Tauriel she is the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen and I love her so very much. As soon as I laid eye on her my heart belonged to her she is my everything
Fili: This is my wife (y/n) she’s just been cleared of fleas
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yawnderu · 4 months
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🌟Smut Masterlist🌟
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Renders by @ave661
Main Masterlist
Asks Masterlist
✧ Showtime - Keegan P. Russ x Reader ✧ Hatefucking - Keegan P. Russ x Reader ✧ Mine - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader ✧ K-9 - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader ✧ Freak - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader ✧ Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader drabble ✧ Vamp - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader ✧ Monster - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader (dark) ✧ Making love with Simon - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader
✧ Denial - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader ✧ Rimming - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley ✧ Pervert!König x Reader ✧ Colonel!König x Reader ✧ Cat and Mouse - König x Reader ✧ Taste Game - König x Reader ✧ Sweet Dreams - König x Reader ✧ Fantasize - König x GN!Reader ✧ Innocence Loss - König x Reader ✧ Home - Kyle ''Gaz'' Garrick ✧ Captain's Wife - John Price & 141 x Reader ✧ Sweet Home - John Price x Reader ✧ John ''I share my wife'' Price x reader x Simon ''Ghost'' Riley ✧ Punished - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Tease - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Catgirl - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Breeding - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Nerd!Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Bully!Miguel O'Hara x Nerd!Reader ✧ Bully!Miguel O'Hara x Nerd!Reader ✧ Prince!Miguel O'Hara x Evil Witch!Reader ✧ Nerd!Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Snow White!Miguel O'Hara x Evil Queen!Reader ✧ Closer - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Blissed Out - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ She Wants Me Dead - Miguel O'Hara x Reader ✧ Shadow Company 14 vs 1 Gangbang
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cherryredstars · 7 months
Note
hello cherry!!
I really love your work, and I was wondering if you could do a second part of Miguel being CEO (In the job description)
I'm very sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my first language
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Vibrators, Penetrative Sex, Mirror Sex, Slight Slapping
Summary: Don’t accept gifts from your boss…or wear it. 
A/N: I made an alternate version of this (basically part 1.5), so let me know if you guys want me to post that one!
Word Count: 3K (Not Edited)
Reverse AU Part 1 Part 1.5
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It was extremely unprofessional.
That’s what you thought when Miguel passed by your desk the morning after your little… moment in his office. He gave you a fleeting smirk as he placed a medium-sized black box right in front of you. A deep blush spread across your face, unable to meet his eyes while he stared at you for a few minutes before walking away and shutting the door to his office. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach as you watched the door before sliding your eyes over the box.
It was the type of box someone would get clothes in for Christmas, only pricer and better quality. A pretty silk ribbon held the lid and bottom together, in a matching matte black color. Carefully, you pulled at one of the ends, the bow easily unraveling. When you took the ribbon off, a deeper blush spread over your body as you saw the words engraved into the cardboard. 
Stamped on the box was the name of the popular lingerie store in the shopping district. It was a store you passed by daily on your way to and from work, and a store that was most definitely out of your price range even with the gracious salary you had. Your hands instantly slapped over the words, leaning over your desk to see if anyone was coming or if Miguel was making any move to leave his office. When the coast was clear, you hesitantly sat back down. 
You cleared your throat nervously, staring at the box before giving into your curiosity. As gently as possible, you lifted the lid of the box, face slightly hiding behind it to obscure your view. An exhale leaves you as maroon tissue paper covers whatever is inside. You take another deep breath before leaning forward and lifting one flap of the tissue paper. A surprised gasp leaves you, staring at the 3 pairs of lacy underwear in the box. 
Each panty is made from lacy material, making them slightly see-through. When you run your hands over them, they’re delicate to the touch and you can tell its high quality stuff. Each one is a different color. The first is a set of white panties to replace the ones from yesterday that Miguel claims to have no idea about. The second one, a deep navy blue that is fairly similar to the navy blue of Miguel’s favorite designer suits. And lastly, a blush color that rivals the one across your cheeks. 
You’re so caught up in just marveling at the contents of the package, that you don’t realize Miguel is standing in front of your desk until he starts speaking. “I take it you like them?”
You’re instantly jolted and clumsily try to cover up the panties and close the box. You’re sure if someone saw your face, it would be a damn near perfect color match to one of those pairs of panties. You shyly look up at Miguel clearing your throat and leaning back in your chair to create more distance between the two of you. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A lazy smirk spreads against Miguel’s face before he shakes his head in amusement. “I was calling you into my office, but you didn’t seem to hear the buzzer.” He hums, eyes trained on the black box he gifted you. You can tell he’s tempted to say something by the way his mouth straightens and his brows furrow slightly, but he ends up not commenting on it and continues what he was saying before. “I was going to tell you that the charity fundraiser is this weekend, and we have to attend to meet the new potential merger.” 
His words make you want to grab the box on your desk and slam it against your head a few trillion times. It’s no secret that both you and Miguel hate the monthly fundraisers. Okay, that sounds bad. Both you and Miguel are happy that somewhere over a hundred grand gets donated to great charities, it’s just the whole business aspect of it you hate. Having to sit around with smiles that are so fake that they cause the muscles of your cheeks to ache, listening to some old CEO who is in dire need to retire spew on and on about very old fashioned beliefs, and the undercooked batches of pasta they serve at the venues are barely anything to gush about. 
Miguel can sense the discontent rolling off of you in waves, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “Do you need a dress or shoes? It’s the Unique charity this year, black-tie event as per usual.”
A heavy sigh leaves you and your finger traces the edge of the box. You mentally go through your closet, trying to remember if you have any appropriate dresses that you haven’t worn in previous years. You come up blank, an oncoming migraine forming at your temple. “I’ll figure something out.”
Miguel gives a displeased hum, knocking his fists against your desk. He leans away, fixing the sleeves of his button up and ruffling his hair. “No worries, I’ll have LYLA send you authorization for my business card and a few dress and shoes options.”
You’re about to protest, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupts you. Miguel rolls his eyes as he sees the contact, answering it and turning away as he grumbles out a greeting. He walks towards his office and turns to give you one last nod before entering. A deep sigh leaves you and you close your eyes as you lean back into your chair. You squint one eye open, eyeing the box before stuffing it in your bag with a huff.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵
“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” 
You run around your small apartment, nothing but a towel covering your body. Your hair is the only thing done, going for an easy blow drying and curling. You groan when you see the pile of laundry in your room, rummaging in your panty drawer to find nothing but a few that are in desperate need to be thrown away due to their worn out state. You’re on the verge of crying when you see the black box thrown carelessly on top of your other drawer. 
You bite your lip, nerves swallowing your being. You weren’t ever planning to wear them, I mean they’re from your boss for god’s sake! But really, you have no choice. With an annoyed groan and exhale, you grab the box and grab the navy blue pair, the color matching the color of your dress. You hastily slip them on, rushing back and forth between your bathroom and your bedroom to do your makeup and get dressed. 
By the time you finish the struggle of zipping up your dress, your phone rings with Miguel’s number. You grab your phone and your purse, answering as you slip on your heels. Miguel’s gruff voice echos as you press the speaker option and unlock your door. He grumbles that the driver is outside your house and you hum in acknowledgement as you check your bag for everything you need as you shut the door behind you after locking it. You rush down the hall and into the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait to reach the ground floor. 
Once the doors slide open, you’re speed walking to the exit and instantly spotting the sleek black car right against the curb. Miguel stands by the car door, a loud ping ringing from his phone that causes his brows to furrow. He looks up at the sound of your heels, that furrowed look still on his face as he eyes you up and down. You copy his facial expression, asking him what’s wrong. He only looks back down at his phone, dismissing whatever it was and opening the car door for you.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵
You have no idea how you got here. 
The second you and Miguel entered the venue, the both of you had down a flute of champagne and gone through the agonizingly long process of greeting every current and future business partner that was present. Everything was going fine, your fake smile was yet to ache and the desserts looked promising. That was until, of course, a sharp zap ran up your spine as you felt something vibrating against you. 
You had choked on your words, trying to play it off with an abrupt sip of alcohol and a strained laugh as you conversed with some of Miguel’s business partners while he dismissed himself for a quick run to the bar. It had been sudden, maybe a trick played on you by your own mind, until it started again. But this time, it was more intense. You had hurriedly excused yourself, making up some excuse before dashing towards the bathroom. 
You rushed through the door, sighing in relief when no one else was inside. You hurried to the counter of sinks, leaning your elbows on the surface as you bent over and hissed. The vibration, that was most definitely coming from your fucking panties, just seemed to be more intense as you shifted from leg to leg and clenched your thighs to relieve the feeling. A struggling whimper left you as you lifted your head to look into the mirror, jumping when you see Miguel leaned against a bathroom stall and staring at you. You must not have heard him enter through the foggy mess in your head. 
You instantly snap up, legs crossed as you turn around and clutch the edge of the counter tightly. You open your mouth, about to scold Miguel for being in the women’s bathroom, but another desperate whine leaves you as the vibration around your clit focuses on the perfect spot from your new stance. Miguel’s brow raises as his eyes ghost down your form, catching the way sweat begins to break on your hairline. A lazy smirk crosses his face when he pulls out his phone from his dress pants, tapping around it a few times before you slouch. 
A sense of relief fills you as the strong vibrating stops and your clit is given a break. A heavy sigh leaves you, head tilting down before the realization hits you. Your head instantly snaps up, your wide eyes meeting Miguel’s mischievous ones. Of course. What else would he do but give you fucking vibrating panties. Your eyes trail down to his phone, watching as he taps it with his thumb again and suddenly the vibration is back. Your body tenses up again, and you watch helplessly as Miguel walks over to you. 
He presses his hand into the front of your dress, directly over your panties. The pressure of his hand makes the vibration stronger, and a choked gasp leaves you. Miguel hums, feeling the strong vibrations through your dress, his eyes moving to your face. “I didn’t think you’d ever wear ‘em.”
That makes two of us, You think as your eyes squint into a glare, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a noise threatening to spill out. Your hands come up to hold onto Miguel’s wrist, trying weakly to take his hand away. He only chuckles, pressing his hand harder against you before taking it away. Your hands fall from him, insead returning to grip on the counter when he turns you around quickly. A wave of deja vu hits you when he presses down on your lower back so your chest is fully pressed, his hands hurriedly gathering your dress so the surplus of fabric bunches around your waist. 
His hand skims the center of your underwear, two fingers pressing against your clothed clit. A moan leaves you as the vibrations grow stronger under his fingers, your hips squirming to get away. Miguel’s hand tightens around your waist, making it harder for you to move. He watches you from the mirror, enjoying the concentrated and tortured look on your face. 
“You know,” Miguel starts lazily, fingers starting to draw slow circles on your clit, “You never answered my question before.” A loud gasp leaves you and you hiss out his name after his hand comes to give your clit a firm slap. “Do you like my gift?”
A weak sound leaves you as you bite your lip. Your hips try to press into Miguel’s hand when he starts his slow circles again, crying out when he removes his hand completely. You hear the rustling of a belt buckle and pants, your gasp in sync with the hiss Miguel lets out when he presses the head of his cock into your panties. The vibrations play against his head, his hand holding his base as he rubs himself up and down the length of your panties. His eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he enjoys the feel of your increasingly wet panties and the vibrating. 
His hand pushes your panties to the side, his cock falling forward to poke at your glistening entrance. Even though the vibrating panties aren’t directly over your clit, you can still feel them from their place right besides it. Your own eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel before Miguel’s hand grasps your face from behind. His large hand squishes your cheeks together and your eyes flutter open to see his face right besides yours in the mirror. Both Miguel’s and your eyes meet in the mirror, his demanding while yours are hazy. 
His tip slightly slides into you and you groan. Miguel’s hold tightens on your face when he pulls out. “Answer the question, preciosa.”
A weak nod leaves you, a puff of air escaping your nose as you lean your hips back to grind slightly against Miguel’s cock. A strangled grunt leaves him and His eyes fall down to where you’re grinding before looking back at you. His breath is hot against your cheek, causing shivers down your spine. “Don’t look away. Just watch.”
Without warning, he slams into you. A loud scream leaves you, eyes threatening to roll back as you watch him. His eyes are dark and focused on where he thrusts brutally into you, your body sliding closer to the mirror before he pulls you back towards him. You make a weak attempt to talk, stuttering out something about the door before he grunts and replies it’s locked. It does little to conceal your worries. As if sensing it, Miguel’s hand slides up to your mouth to cover it, muffling the noises you’re letting out. 
The only sounds that can’t be muffled are the soft, wet sounds that come from his heavy balls hitting against your wet heat. You’re so wet that you’re coating him, a stickiness connecting his balls to your cunt as he thrusts. Your eyes roll back and a harsh slap is thrown against your cheek. Unfocused eyes meet Miguel’s angered ones, his thrusts turning harsher and more punishing as he looks at you disapprovingly.
“I told you to watch. Keep your eyes on the mirror or I'll stop.”
A sound of protest leaves you, mumbling out sorry repeatedly as you try to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. The view is shaking from the way your body jolts with each pump of his hips, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him go faster and try to see how shaky he can make your vision and your legs. His hand gives you one more smack to the cheek before covering your mouth again. 
Your legs feel like they’re about to give out and that hotness is forming at the bottom of your stomach. Miguel’s is fast approaching too, the sensation of your tight, warm walls sucking him in and the slight vibrations running through your walls from the vibrating panties. His hand leaves your hip, moving in between your legs and moving the shaking fabric back over your clit. The angle is awkward, trying to find it under layers of falling fabric from your dress while he’s hammering his cock into you. But eventually he gets it, and you instantly fall apart. 
Your scream is muffled by Migue’s hand, your body shaking as you clench tightly around him and gush all over his cock. Miguel lets out a curse, his thrusts stuttering and becoming clumsy. You call out his name weakly, and he’s gone. He stills with a deep groan, filling you up with his warmth. You both stand there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure before you start suffering from overstimulation from the still vibrating underwear. 
You weakly cry out to Miguel, who hurriedly turns on his phone and kills the vibrating. A deep, grateful sigh leaves you as you slump forward. A small moan leaves you when Miguel pulls out, reaching up to the tissue paper dispensers to wipe you and him down. He rebuckles his pants, pulling your panties back in place and your dress down. You flinch when the drenched fabric meets you, half expecting for it to start vibrating again. Instead, another piece of paper tissue is dabbed against your face and neck as Miguel tries to rid your skin of sweat without fully removing your makeup. 
A grateful noise leaves you before you stand up when Miguel steps back. When you turn your head towards him, a soft kiss is pressed to your cheek. Miguel strokes the spot with his thumb, eyes trailing to yours before he looks away and moves towards the door. 
“Not going to steal my panties this time?” You can’t help but call out, hands still gripping the edge of the sinks tightly.
Miguel turns with a teasing smile and shrugs. “Nah, you can keep them this time. Just make sure to wear one of the other pairs to work on Monday.”
A deep flush flows across your face at his innuendo, watching as he unlocks the door and slips out. A deep sigh leaves you as you turn towards the mirror again, an annoyed noise leaving you as you spot imperfections in your makeup. You open your bag, working on small touch-ups as you think back to what occurred a few minutes ago. A small smile crosses your face and you shake your head before you head to follow Miguel back out for another hour of socializing.
Just benefits of the job.
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lunarw0rks · 7 months
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I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??
♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader
─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹
there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.
you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.
and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.
you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.
everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.
he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.
no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!
˖⁺。˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.
what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.
the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.
you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.
you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.
though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.
"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.
as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.
a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.
it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.
he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"
"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.
with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.
it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."
somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.
the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.
"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.
once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.
soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.
despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.
as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.
a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.
"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.
he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.
your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.
"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.
then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"
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2-dsimp · 23 days
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Aaaaah Judas is too cute and horny i just want to pamper him until the very end <3
Yandere company Bros
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.
Cw: NSFW MDNI fem reader creampie, gaslighting, possessive/obsessive tendencies, slight praise, overstimulation, Judas being touch starved for your affection, mentions of marathon sex, office sex, exhibition, Judas being a simp,
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。.
Synopsis: 【From Seeing your Boss and lover going through a dire case of burn out, you decided to offer your services via pampering him and treating him like royalty. But it looks like you bit off more than you can chew. As he’s going absolutely feral from you allowing him to work out his frustrations on your pliant body.】
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*
“You said you’d pamper me for the entire day… Was that a lie love?”
Judas rasped softly into your ear as he coiled an arm around your middle in gentle but firm hold. He had you bent over his office desk with a hand pressed against your mouth to conceal the melodious sounds of you going on a downwards spiral of depravity. He was practically glued to your ass letting out soft pants as he felt his balls twitch from the way your love canal spasmed on his long hard length that was buried so deep that you thought your guts were getting rearranged.
“You promised me, your everything. Are you trying to go back on your word darling? Please don’t let that be the case. I think I’d cry if it was.”
The Eldest Kinen murmured lowly. As he buried his face in the crook of your neck pressing heated kisses at your pluse.
“Do you want that? To see me cry? To see me go mad from how much I need you? To see how much I crave to imprint my dick deep inside of you, so that I know you’re finally all mine?”
His voice was so needy and yet gentle, While he fluidly rocked his hips against yours into a grinding motion. Making you give a muffled keen into his palm from how his throbbing shaft rammed into that spongey spot nestled within your molten core.
“Judas—please!”
You mewled softly against his hand that you lightly clawed at. So you could make him hear what you had to say. Noticing your efforts Judas slid his palm down slightly from your mouth so he could get a clear response from you. He was desperate to know what possessed you to try and weasel out of his messy office. After being such a temptress.
“Juu…We can’t go a 4th time there’s a meeting to be held in 30min—“
Not even letting you finish he abruptly pulled out allowing some goop of his seed to leak out of your abused pussy only to plunge back savagely into your wet heat. Stifling a cry of pleasure at the delicious sensation of being buried inside you once more.
“Do you think I care about that meeting right now when I’ve got my beloved looking so precious on my cock right now?”
Judas said breathily, letting his stoic persona crack whenever he was in close quarters with you. His eye brows were tightly knitted as he bared his weight down against you pressing your front flat against the desk.
"Nng! You're so tight, so warm, so welcoming. From the moment I saw you I knew that you were the one that I was made for."
His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring his rod to penetrate your gushing cunt as much as he could. Before he began to move, his hips pounding into you with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body.
“God, how I've wanted this, needed this for so long. I've dreamt of making love to you whenever I close my eyes at night. Marking you as mine. And Becoming all yours in the process.”
The workaholic confessed, his voice filled with raw need. His need to apply all his pent up urges of loving you wholly with his entire being. Overpowering any sense of restraint he had previously. As He reveled in the way your body responded to his touch, the way you moaned and writhed beneath him.
“So please pamper me until the end just like you said. I promise to be good for you, all I need in exchange is you.”
The Eldest whimpered pathetically, tears welling up from his thick lashes from the self induced overstimulation. As he frantically mapped the expanse of your lushious body greedily grabbing ahold of whatever piece of you he could get to hoard for himself. He was cheesing from his ears getting blessed by your adorable squeals and moans from getting railed against his desk.
“Mmn I’m so close, I’m gonna cum again inside you. Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful when you make those cute sounds for me”
He rambled dumbly, with his jaw slackened from relishing in the feeling of his member getting strangled by your pulpy walls that enticed him to drive his heavy cock into you fully. Making his mushroom tip kiss your cervix as his balls continued to tighten immensely from the impending release threatening to escape his body.
With one final, powerful slam of his pelvis against the meat of your ass. Judas released a torrent of his hot, thick cum inside you. The feeling of his seed filling your womb sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, triggering your own release. As your legs quivered while your quim gushed around his pulsating meat for the last time drenching his happy trail with your slick and juices.
“I love you so fucking much, Accepting everything that I have to give to you. I love being yours. I’m so happy you chose me…”
He pressed a series of kisses trailing from your neck to your jaw. Until he tilt your head slightly to give you a smoldering kiss as his chest let out a deep, guttural rumble of pure happiness. While he continued to hump your pussy just to make sure he’s given all of his pure love to his darling. Making you whine in embarrassment from the sound of his seed mixing with your fluids filling the room. You just knew that the whole workplace was gonna be talking about you two.
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chrollohearttags · 11 months
Text
jealous, possessive lawyer!nanami and his super pretty, plus size assistant. Who’s always strutting around in adorable and sometimes revealing outfits, always getting hit on by his rich, sleazy clients and the plethora of other suitors that drop off flowers and gifts throughout the week. You’re completely oblivious the power you hold or that you’re attracting all this attention. That is until your boss calls you into his office at the end of the week to give you a bonus…and to make you come until you can barely even stand! Hiking your leg on the edge of his desk as he falls to his knees and takes your panties along with him..licking and lapping every crevice of your plump little pussy until you’re scratching on the wood and clawing at his hair. Too bad he only responds by slapping your thick ass and tells you to keep riding his face until he says stop. Or making you climb on top of him; sitting back down in his swivel chair and stroking that cock to the sight of your pretty titties spilling out of your new dress. It’s way too inappropriate for work wear but he doesn’t mind. So as long as he’s the one ripping it off of you. Truthfully, it’s what you get for keeping him so aroused all week..and blindly doing so at that. But he’ll be certain to vent all his frustrations in the way of bouncing you up and down as the room fills with your loud screams and the creaking of the chair. Not to worry, he’ll just lift you mid air and keep thrusting until his nut is made home inside of that tight pussy. And when you ask if you’re too heavy, clawing up his back in the process, he’ll only laugh and tell you:
“Sweet girl, I’m more than capable of handling you. I’m the only man who can..the only one you’ll ever need.”
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