Rudy And Alejandro A Chuck Of The Time I Swear

“..well shit”

Y'all can go ahead and celebrate the Ides of March and the assassination of Julius Caesar or whatever-- I will be celebrating the day that Merry & Eowyn Stabbed and Killed the Witch-King of Angmar like a normal person, thank you.

I feel like we don't talk enough about the fact that all but three of the dwarves in the company of Thorin Oakenshield are directly related.

Bifur, Bombur, Bofur, and Bilbo are just tagging along on the worst family road trip of all time.

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

cw: messy smut & hand fetish

simon’s bird is a twitchy thing, buzzing about with tepid energy thrumming underneath your skin. he’d even catch you shifting around when you’re sitting still for too long, gaze dancing between objects as you try to tether yourself back to the conversation. it’s an adorable thing—it could be worrying on days when it splinters into a spiralling—but it has always been cute.

even cuter was the way that you’ll only stop when his hand clamps down on your thigh. you’ll twitch, blinking at his hold, before melting. you’ll never look away, your mind is quiet even for a moment, and for a while, simon thought that it was the touch that grounded you. that it was the weight of his hand that eases up your flighty thoughts, allowing you a reprieve.

it’s only after you moved in with him that he realizes that grounding you didn’t even need to be his touch because your mind stutters at the mere sight of his hands. and what a delight that realization was.

it came to him when he walked into the living room after being holed up in the garage, fixing up your car, only to see you freeze at seeing the way that oil tainted his fingertips, highlighting the ridges of his veins and the rough patches his scars. what he thought was a scrutiny of how dirty he’s gotten, ended up being a quiet thrum of your admiration.

it made him dizzy with elation—oh how adorable you are with your futile attempts to rip your eyes from his hands, unable to utter anything but a breathless gasp of his name. god, look how cute you are. how easy. falling apart at the mere sight of his hands.

he didn’t even need to touch you for your desire to burn hotter, your eyes always gravitated at the way he massaged them with lotion or cracked his knuckles. he doesn’t even have a thing for a hands but you’ve made him more conscious of it, almost like it is something pornographic.

so, naturally, he had to do something about it.

buying the full-length mirror and installing it in the bedroom was a hassle but simon loves it now.

“don’t look away,” he rumbles before curling his fingers and plunging them deeper in you. the wet squelch echoes in the room louder than his voice did, drawing out a hiccuped squeal from the base of your throat.

this isn’t even the first time that simon’s got you propped on his lap with your legs forced open by the spread of his thighs, but being fingered in front of the mirror really has you feeling shy, huh? you can’t even watch yourself properly, tending to run away from the sight by screwing your eyes close and tipping your chin low like by doing so, you could pretend that the mirror isn’t revealing every debauchery he’s making out of your pussy.

but god. you should see this—his hand is so soaked with your juices that it’s got it shining like a fucking glazed doughnut. it’s so messy as you drip onto him, your cunt spasming like the greedy hole that it is.

simon croons this to you, his other hand cupping your jaw to brush his thumb just over your kiss-swollen lips, coaxing you to open to your eyes. telling you to see how needy you really are—and even then, your pussy is more honest than you are being right now.

“c’mon, baby,” simon murmurs, twisting his fingers juuust right, making you keen, your legs jumping in your attempt to shut them close only for simon to knock them wide open again. “look at y’r cunt, love, makin’ my hand look all glossy.”

he huffs a laugh at the way your pussy clamps down on his fingers at hearing his words, your cunt betraying your stubborn self once more. truly what a naughty bird he’s got; acting all shy when you’re just as hungry as he is—

“isn’t that right, hun?”

simon thought that it’d take another coaxing, another curling of his fingers or maybe finally adding his pinky to stretch you even wider for his cock, but your resolve fizzled out fast. your tearful eyes peel open, blinking to adjust them to the light. they dance from the reflection of his face, meeting his eyes, before finally dragging down to where you’ve got your pussy spasming around his fingers at his beckoning nod.

he feels more than sees the moment you get a glimpse at what a beautiful sight you make.

“si—!” you gasp, reaching up to clamp down on the arm that he’s got around your chest. your hips begin to wiggle, almost like you desperately want to ride his hand, and oh, that thought makes simon’s cock jump from underneath his sweats.

“si, i’m cummin— i wanna— i’m—!”

he doubles his efforts, fucking his fingers in, nudging them along your walls, before fucking them out in a dizzying pace that has you screaming, your body tensing like a string being pulled taut. it is so messy now, each thrust of his hand meeting the fat lips of your cunt echo with a wet slap, and simon truly can’t wait to lap up at your juices left on his pruning fingers.

your nails bite his skin but he doesn’t even feel the prickles as your walls begin to spasm, your jaw dropping for a soundless scream, then—

an angry gush. your squirt hits the mirror, splattering so wildly, and simon swears he’s gone cross-eyed with his lust.

how beautiful you are, your body locking on his lap for a moment as you ride out your orgasm before falling limply into his embrace, your eyes staring faraway like he’s fried your brain with his fingers alone. he croons, pressing kisses on your sweaty temple, and carefully pulls his fingers out. you rumble, whining in overstimulation, and simon pets you in comfort.

he lifts his hand up—it is wet and his fingers have pruned—before immediately stuffing them in his mouth. he didn’t even notice the way you’ve been watching him until you squeak at seeing him desperately suck on his fingers.

simon flicks his eyes up to meet your gaze from the mirror and, even with a mouthful, he gives you a grin. you breathe in sharply, still shy but refusing to break the heated eye contact, and simon rumbles, pleased, because his cock is painfully hard. it is rutting along the cleft of your ass, leaking pre-, and it is very needy for the feeling of your pussy hotly swallowing all of him up.

I think you just invented christianity?

This is gonna sound terrible, but I have never watched the LOTR movies, I got into the Fandom through books.

So today I'm gonna watch the fellowship, extended

favorite Bruce Wayne hc of the week: you’re allowed to follow him into the Cave to continue your argument, but he’s going to start undressing and pulling off armor while heading for the showers and if you get an eyeful, that’s on you.

It’s an effective tactic and stops a good 60% of those arguments in their tracks. The remaining 40% are usually intense enough to follow Bruce into the showers and yell at him while he’s casually showering off grime and blood.