also that whole tale of aragorn and arwen thing where he saw her in the woods at twenty and fell instantly in love and it’s very beren and luthien? lies.
aragorn decided he was going to marry arwen when he was like, six.
and everyone thought it was just the cutest thing, baby estel with his little crush on the great immortal evenstar, and everyone would tease him about it relentlessly and he would get so mad, and pout, because how dare they doubt his word.
(arwen spent a lot of time biting back smiles and nodding very seriously when aragorn brings this up with her. no, estel, I do not know why they are laughing perhaps they have remembered a particularly funny joke.)
and then aragorn grows into this gangly teen and oh my god can you imagine being a pimply greasy teenager around fucking elves it’s a wonder he has any self-image left. His voice breaks every other word and the laundresses are beginning to wonder if something is wrong with the sheets because estel keeps washing them himself and aragorn wants to die, god, arwen is never going to marry him if he stays all elbows and skinny knees and he can’t even look her in the eye anymore without blushing, eye contact is probably something to look for in a husband–
(arwen, who never had to go through puberty because elves don’t do anything so undignified, tries to comfort him by saying she likes his blemishes. aragorn gives her a look of such utter, miserable despair that she starts laughing.)
(this is a mistake. he spends the next three weeks nursing his wounded ego and refusing to see her.)
estel is twenty when he asks for her hand. he is lean, slender and fair as a new tree, and so arwen does not feel guilt in kissing his cheek and gently refusing. he is still green, he will weather greater storms than this–and he takes it as he should, clasping her hand and swearing to ever be her loyal friend.
they write to each other–when she is in lorien, when he wanders with the rangers of the north, fights alongside gondor, travels to distant lands. it is an inconstant tie–he is rarely afforded time enough to put pen to paper; she is reserved so as not to encourage what may not be. (she signs her letters always, your friend. She likes him too well to be cruel in this.)
the years pass. his weariness and strife creeps onto the page, and she sends him tokens to fend off the darkness–leaves from lothlorien, the ribbon from her hair, snippets of poems. it is not enough it is never enough I am sorry, she writes.
his reply is gentle: you are enough. do not stop writing.
(she carries that letter tucked inside her sleeve for a long while, like a talisman–though against what evil, she does not know.)
she is in the house of her grandmother when a familiar voice calls out to her: my lady luthien!
this is when arwen looks up, sees aragorn–broad of chest and rugged, still wearing his battered mail, with one hand balanced lazily on the pommel of his sword. All the trees of caras galadhon are gold but he is shadow and silver, kingliness resting lightly on his shoulders–
Word Count - 1,196 Warnings - Nothing but sin. Thigh riding. Daddy kink. Swearing. Spanking. Please forgive me. Synopsis - Jimin comes home early from practice one day, sweaty, hair a mess… Your thoughts get a little race-y, and despite your efforts to hide it, he catches on to what you want pretty quick.
It was times like this you wanted to shrivel up and die.
Jimin was your boyfriend of a solid year and a half now-despite the struggles of dating someone with his hectic schedule and busy lifestyle, honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
But sometimes, sometimes you… Would trade it for anything. This was one of those times.
“Jagiyaaa~! I’m home a little early!” Jimin came happily walking into your shared apartment, looking simply overjoyed to be there, and to see you.
But he also looked… Sweaty. And messy.
His hair was messed up, as if he’d just gotten out of bed, sweat made his bangs cling to forehead, his skin was still practically glowing with energy from what you assumed was a long day of dance practice.
And god damnit, he was wearing shorts, on top of everything.
You’d never admit it, never in your life, but… Hot damn, your boyfriend had some banging thighs.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t imagine riding them all the time, hands on his shoulders to brace yourself, shuddering as he whispered sinful nothings into your ear-
“Earth to Y/N??” Jimin waved his hand in front of your dazed face, giggling at your spacey-ness. “I asked you how your day’s been, silly girl.”
“I-it’s been great, Minnie.” You nodded, forcing a convincing smile and trying your hardest not to let your eyes linger on his thighs as he sat beside you on the couch.
“Is everything okay, jagi? You seem flustered,” He pouted a little at you, reaching over and brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face. Given the close proximity, you could feel the heat radiating from him as he withdrew his hand from your face and, unforunately, laid it on your thigh, patting it gently.
“Y-yeah, I’m okay!” You nodded affirmatively, though you… Couldn’t. Quite come up with a reason as to why you looked flustered in the first place.
“If you say so,” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at you, leaving his hand where it was on your thigh, his fingers beginning to absently trace little patterns over the clothed skin.
Damnit, he’s on to you.
“I-I missed you today, Minnie-how was dance practice?” You shifted the subject away from the state of your well-being, knowing if you let him dwell on it he’d catch in to what was going on inside your head.
“Oh, it was great! We had a lot of fun today-Yoongi-hyung treated everybody to chicken and pizza for lunch, and our manager said since we’ve been working so hard lately, we can have tomorrow off! Isn’t that wonderful, jagiya?” Jimin, as you’d expect, was elated at the thought of a day off.
But there was a glint in his eyes you didn’t like.
“We can spend the whole day together tomorrow, how great will that be? Think of all the things we could do,”
Yikes. You understood now.
You’d been not-so-inconspicuously squeezing your thighs together, you realized, and… Yeah, you did sort of keep looking down at his thighs while was talking…
He caught on quicker than you anticipated.
“Spacing out again, baby girl?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you and turning your face towards his with his index finger, looking at you with mock sympathy.
“Poor little kitten… Did you think I wouldn’t notice you admiring my thighs like that? Be a little less obvious next time.” He was wearing a smirk the Cheshire Cat would envy, looking at you as if you were the prey to his predator.
And, let’s be real… You were.
“Stand up and take everything off.” He let go of your face, nodding at you and sitting back against the couch with an expectant look on his face.
You quickly moved to do as he said-honestly, if there was a record for fastest strip time, you’d have just broken it.
“Aww, so eager today, aren’t we?” He abruptly pulled you down onto his lap once you were naked, situating you so you straddled his thigh.
He looked… So smug, and pleased. He must have been thinking about this, too.
“You know, I was planning on asking you if you wanted to try this tomorrow… But thanks to your slutty attitude, I guess it can’t wait, can it?” He cocked his head at you, smirking at how… Small you seemed. How submissive you seemed. It delighted him.
“Daddy asked you a question, kitten. Answer me.” His hand slithered up your leg before slapping your ass, of course leaving a mark. He was good at that, spanking you.
“N-no Daddy, it can’t wait,” You squeaked out an answer, desperate to get this over with so you could… Ride his damn thigh already lord have mercy.
He chuckled at you, taking your hands and placing them on his shoulders.
“What are you waiting for, slut? Get going.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
You immediately started rocking yourself on his thigh, not even slightly embarrassed as you saw his skin begin to glisten from the sheer wetness of your cunt. He seemed to enjoy it too, once he saw it.
“That’s it, good girl. Ride Daddy’s thigh. Damnit, look how wet you are-how long have you wanted to do this? You should have said something sooner.” He reached behind you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking it back, causing a surprised groan to rumble up from your throat. He latched his mouth onto the expanse of your neck, immediately biting down and starting to pepper red-purple marks across your skin, while your hips worked frantically against his thigh of their own will and volition.
“Fuck,” Jimin pulled away from your neck, groaning as he saw the marks he’d left. “I hope you don’t think this is all we’ll be doing tonight, you little slut. I’m goona pound you so hard into the bed we’ll have to buy a new one,” With his free hand, he delivered several hard spanks to your already red ass.
The spanks just made you that much closer, in all honesty.
You were reduced to nothing short of a moaning, borderline screaming mess as you desperately rocked yourself on his thigh. “D-Daddy, Daddy, please-please make me cum, please,”
He just chuckled at you, and shook his head. “Work for it, you little whore.”
But what he did after he said that contradicted his words.
He wedged his hand between your pussy and his thigh, rubbing furiously at your clit and even pinching it.
“Daddy, I can’t-I can’t hold it if you do th-that-” “-Cum for me, then, slut. Do it. Cum all over Daddy’s thigh.”
Once again… You didn’t need to be told twice.
Your whole body shook, and you screamed, your back arching as your cunt fluttered and coated Jimin’s thigh in your cum.
You slumped against his chest, panting, while he let go of your hair and started tracing patterns all over your now slightly sweaty back.
“Go ahead and take a breather, princess. Wouldn’t want you passing out on me or anything when we really get started.”
Yikes, you were in for a long night. Not to mention the next day.
Imagine James and Lily (and probably Sirius) going to Harry’s first ever quidditch game at Hogwarts and when Harry catches the snitch, James and Sirius leap out of their seats cheering and shouting and James starts yelling “that’s my boy!! That’s my son! That’s mY SON!!”
"Snow..." Baz looked at him incredulously. "That's my textbook ...why are you doing math?"
“Snow…” Baz looked at him incredulously. “That’s my textbook …why are you doing math?”
"Shh, Baz, I’m trying to figure it out.“ He shushes, and then mutters to himself “so if it takes 130 ml to get…yes…then the average male rat weighs…and then we just divide…perfect…around 26 ml of blood…"
I can’t stop staring as he continues to plug values into my graphing calculator. His hair is a tangled mess, like he’s been raking his fingers through it in frustration, and I wonder how long he’s been working on this.
“I’ve got it!” he shouts, and I jump. He turns to me with a triumphant grin, and says, “did you know you need to drain five rats to get a boner?”