If I See Another “Batman Thinks He Saved His Kids, But Really He Destroyed Them” Or Any Iteration

A lazy morning fuck.

cw: fingering, anal sex.

John wakes with a start and a strangled noise when his body clock jolts him conscious at 5.30am. He'd overslept, his startled mind informs him. He fights his way out of his heavy duvet to free his arms, knocking one of his pillows onto the floor. "Fuck, what day..." His head's all over the place because he's bloody exhausted, and he gropes for his phone on the bedside table, eyes fuzzy with sleep. It's not there and he lets out a frustrated grunt as he moves to sit up.

Nik's big arms reach across the mattress and encircle John's body. He pulls him back into the soft warmth of their bed, nuzzles into his fluffy, shower-soft hair. "Relax. You are on leave, solnyshko. Easy." Nik had left all their phones in the kitchen, with all the alarms turned off. The bedroom is quiet and cool, the curtains drawn to block out the early morning light flutter gently in the breeze. They're not on any schedule other than 'rest'.

Nik can feel the panicked rabbit of John's heart, the confused tension in his body, and begins to caress him gently. After their bath, John had pulled on his boxers and a cotton t-shirt before burrowing beneath the duvet and promptly falling unconscious. It had been an abysmal week, even by John's standards. He needs the leave to recharge, to find his peace again.

Nik's big palms move beneath that t-shirt, over John's chest, across his belly, up his arms, enjoying the downy softness of his body hair, the swells of muscle and plusher give around his abdomen, warm and inviting. Nik kisses his neck, noses his beard, and eventually John relaxes back into a deep sleep. He burrows into Nik's chest, nose between his tits, and Nik feels him deflate with a long sigh, aching body sinking into the mattress as Nik pulls the blankets back over him.

Nik stays awake for a while, just watching. John is beautiful in the low light. The lines around his eyes have smoothed out in sleep, his fluffy hair ruffled, broad shoulders rising and falling in time with the slow beat of his heart. Nik can feel it though his back, a strong, steady thrum that lulls him back into a lighter doze. He dreams of captains with pretty blue eyes and muscular bodies stretched out in pleasure, and his body stirs even as he snoozes.

Later, at a more reasonable hour, Nik wakes again slowly. He can hear the traffic outside the open window, taste the morning on the cool air, and he breathes in deep, basks in the peace and safety of the moment, still and soft.

John's still sleeping, but he had rolled over so his back pressed to Nik's chest, the pert curves of his arse pushed up against Nik's morning wood in the most exquisite tease. Nik sleeps naked, and his thick shaft sits perfectly in the dip of John's cleft, cradled by the stretchy cotton of his boxers, his heavy balls pressed up beneath. They had been too tired last night, but morning sex with a well rested, eager John Price is Nik's reward for a long op. His cock gives a needy throb as he rocks it against John's body, aching to be inside him, wet tip drooling a bead of precum in anticipation.

Nik starts as gently as he did before. He circles his fingertips over one pert arse cheek, stroking John through the soft material of his underwear. The flurry of goosebumps that rush over John's exposed arm betrays his enjoyment, even if he hasn't fully woken yet. Nik continues, sliding his big palms up John's torso to grope his tits. They're perfect. Firm, with that soft layer of hair that Nik likes to rub his face into. His thumb circles the soft areola of John's nipple until it pulls tight, so he strokes the firm nub between finger and thumb until John's entire chest is firm with arousal.

Where Nik's nipples are dusky, John's are a light pink, as sweet as the rest of him beneath his austere disguise. The first time Nik had undressed John, he had been completely smitten by the constellations of freckles over his pale skin, the tan lines, the scars, every soft patch of skin and sensitive erogenous zone. How beautiful John was when he let himself be vulnerable. That first night John had sunk onto Nik's cock, making soft noises of overwhelmed pleasure, and Nik had kissed and licked his nipples until he came in the dense curls of Nik's chest hair, gasping and moaning in a low, sultry timbre that Nik still pleasured himself to the memory of.

The memory makes Nik's cock twitch now and he pushes it firmly against John's arse with a low moan of longing. John stirs, his body straightening a little, pressing into Nik's hands with a soft sigh. Nik smiles into John's hair and continues his lazy exploration, squeezing and massaging John's chest as he leans over to kiss his neck and shoulders.

Even asleep, John arches into it, he's so responsive, so sensitive. His freckled skin warms, flushing over his neck and chest, and he begins to squirm in Nik's arms. Nik worms one beneath him, slanting up his chest to slide a hand around John's throat to tilt his head back just as the other strokes down his belly and into his boxers to claim his prize.

John's wet and hard, the soft cotton of his boxers damp against Nik's knuckles as he strokes John's cock with a firm grip from root to tip. John's eyes flutter, damp lips parting as he tilts them against Nik's jaw. He pants, reaching to hold the wrist of the hand around his throat as he's drawn close to Nik's chest, and Nik squeezes a little, and John lets out a soft noise of enjoyment. John's cock pulses in Nik's hand as he draws it over the waistband of his boxers, precum wetting the hem of his shirt.

"Couldn' wait fer breakfast, eh?"

"No," Nik replies softly, fingertips following a thick vein down the underside of John's shaft to the curls around the base, continuing along the seam of his sac, firm and high. "You need this as much as I do." Nik traces lower, caressing down John's taint to his hole, stroking the rim in gentle passes.

"God, fuck, yeah..." John moans, thigh lifting to drape over Nik's, hips rocking up to encourage Nik's touches, grinding his arse back enticingly against Nik's prick. Precum wets the small of his back as Nik's tip nudges beneath his shirt. "C'mon, Nik. Stop teasin'. Yer so hard..."

Nik chuckles, tugging his hand free long enough to pump out a handful of lube from the tub on the bedside cabinet. Price wriggles out of his boxers, kicking them down his legs, and Nik bites his lower lip as the soft skin of John's cleft presses the heat of his shaft. Nik draws John over him a little more, delighting at the demanding growl that vibrates under the palm around John's throat. Nik doesn't leave John wanting, slick fingertips caressing the outside before the first presses inside. John's legs spread wantonly, the heft of his balls sitting against the cup of Nik's palm as he relaxes.

Nik slides in a second, licking into the shell of John's ear, nibbling the lobe, as he crooks his fingers in a slow, deliberate come hither gesture that makes John's thighs shake. "Nik, fuck... Nik, ahh..."

"Da, solnyshko... da tebya yebat nado." Nik growls, easing his fingers out as he scrubs his face into the coarse bristles of John's beard. He rolls John onto his front, pressing him into the mattress with the weight of his chest, biting and kissing the slope of his shoulder, the skin of his neck between the gaps of the fingers still holding his throat. He reaches down to guide the tip of his cock to John's wet hole, teasing his slit with the soft rim before easing his crown inside. John's still pleasantly tight, sucking Nik in greedily, bearing down with a deep, satisfied moan as Nik sinks in hilt deep until the firm swell of his balls pressed to the back of John's. Nik growls, satisfied by the wet heat enveloping his cock, snug, keen, perfect. "Ya zastavlyu tebya umolyat ob etom."

"Mm, Nik, fuck... fuck... yeah. So, f-f-fuh.. s-so good." John's cock is trapped between his belly and the mattress as Nik slowly rocks into him, keeping him pinned with his bulk, thick chest pressed to his back. Nik grinds more than thrusts, precum and lube making obscene noises at the seam of their bodies, echoing their gasps and groans, muffled only when Nik presses his mouth to John's shoulder to breathe him in as the pleasure rolls through his hips in a deep, slow ebb that matches the pace of their love-making.

Even with his cock inside him, Nik wants to be deeper; to burrow in his scent, to feel the heat of his body against every inch of his skin. John sounds so good, every low moan, every time Nik's name slips out in his deep, gravelly tone, cigar smoke and the roar of battle buffing his voice like sandpaper. Nik could listen to John talk for an eternity, but the way he sounds in pleasure, his moans, his pleas, is a whole new level of indulgence.

When John spreads his legs over the bed, tilting his hips to urge Nik deeper, Nik nudges his knees up beneath his thighs and grinds in slow, graceful rolls that drags his cock in and out at an angle that makes John moan loud and wanton. The firm muscles in his back pulling taut in a decadent arch. "Oh fuck, Nik... 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna.... fuck, 'm so close... please, please."

"Not yet, detka," Nik murmurs against John's neck. "Hold on." Nik lifts up, changing his grip to the back of John's neck to push the side of his face into the pillow, the knuckles of his other pressed against the bed.

"Nik, please... please..."

John's fingers curl in the sheets, fists shaking as Nik fucks him with the same firm, deep pace, the continuous drag of his cock teasing him higher. Nik looks down the slope of his body, watches his thick shaft sink into John's body, ruddy skin slick with precum and lube, John's hole fucked open and desperate. He picks up his pace a little, listens to John's low moans break into whimpers as he walks the precipice. "Nik, Nik, Nik... Ahh, ahh."

Nik closes his eyes and tilts his head back. He knows the moment John comes he'll follow, he's on a knife edge, the knot of tension in his hips pulled tight. John begs, whimpering, and Nik chokes out his permission. "Da, John... da." He feels John come, his body tightening, and fucks in deep to enjoy every spasming pulse of it. When his own crests, he releases John's neck to take his hip and draw him back onto his cock, shoulders hunched as his head drops, forehead in the centre of John's. As his heart thunders, cock twitching in the aftershocks, he presses gentle kisses to the back of John's neck and draws out.

He slumps to the side and strokes John's hair as one fuzzy blue eye watches him from the folds of the pillow. They say nothing in the soft afterglow, heavy breaths fading into deeper ones. When the sweat had eased, Nik draws John into his arms again and kisses the soft skin beneath his ear and lets him doze.

When he wakes later, John shrugs out of his t-shirt and pushes Nik onto his back, straddling his hips to sink onto his cock again, hole still fucked open and eager. Nik watches those thick tits bounce as John rides him, John's head tilted back in ecstasy, big hand pumping the length of his prick as he chases another high. They'll spend a lazy weekend in John's flat, smoking expensive cigars and drinking expensive whiskey, having marathon sex that Nik will drop tantalising hints about over poker, leaving the sergeants equal parts aroused and traumatised. Nik is, after all, a great believer in finding joy in the simple pleasures.

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.

Bitches: mad about Rings of Power's Galadriel not being serene and wise at all times.

Me, an enlightened bitch:

Why is this just highschool?

In my headcanon/theory of orcs:

Orcs are uniformly tone-deaf, no exceptions. But they do sing. It just doesn't sound so good to anyone who isn't tone-deaf.

(Melkor, if he noticed, appreciated the dissonance, but Sauron was Not A Fan.)

Also their sense of rhythm is fine and orcish drummers can get quite sophisticated.

Common subjects for orc songs:

Fear Us

We are doing a task [which isn't very interesting and this at least livens it up]

We are going to kill you and destroy everything you love and have fun doing it

A 'and then there were none' backwards-counting song of elf-princes, some verses inspired by real events

A prince of cats got his ass kicked by a girl and a dog, definitely not inspired by real events, honest, but also definitely not to be sung in Mordor

We've been marching a long time and it's annoying

The Sun is a bitch

I Fear Nothing Except The Sea Which Is Fucking Terrifying

My warg is the best warg, she's eaten lots of babies

Behold my gruesome trophies

My body is the most fucked up and uncomfortable but I make it work

There's Something In These Caves (It's A Dragon And Planning To Eat Us)

These Orders Indicate Our Senior Leadership Has Shit For Brains

I Wish I Was Back In Goblin-Town

Today Is A Terrible Day To Die But I Guess That's What We're Doing

But what if both Mina and Jonathan were left with lingering vampiric traits. A perfectly sweet and normal married couple, expect there is something uncanny in both of them. Animals get weird around them. They’ve quietly removed garlic from their recipes. You see them both working in a pitch black room, and neither noticed that it’s too dark for human eyes. Everytime you see them out in broad daylight, they seem a bit fatigued. They’re such a sweet young couple, but there is something just a bit off about both of them.

I think it also goes to say that Boromir's hair probably grew out quite a bit during there journey, so his hair was most likely longer when he died

hilarius-and-felix replied to this post:

In the final version the men of Rohan have long hair too though. So there'd be no reason for her to cut hers: "The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them"

I don't have my copies of HOME with me, so I don't know if it's true that continuity was the reason why Tolkien backtracked on Éowyn cutting her hair off. I don't recall that being the reason, but like I said, I can't check for myself right now. My impression was that Tolkien simply preferred the imagery of her pulling off the helmet and her hair falling over her shoulders, but I couldn't say for sure, since my post was not exactly intended to be rigorous interpretation, but just something I would have found neat.

That said, I disagree that Éowyn's hair length in canon is necessarily interchangeable with the male Riders'. Tolkien uses "long" pretty broadly of very different hair lengths. For instance, at the Council of Elrond, Frodo describes Boromir's hair this way:

his locks were shorn about his shoulders

Yet at his funeral just a few months later, Tolkien says:

They combed his long dark hair and arrayed it upon his shoulders.

So "long" in Tolkien's usage can vary quite a bit.

I don't think it's clear from your quote just how long the male Rohirrim typically wear their hair, but I think this suggests Éowyn's is remarkable:

Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river of gold.

And in the canon confrontation with the Witch-king, her revelation of her gender is, IMO, clearly associated with the release of her hair:

A little to the left facing them stood she whom he had called Dernhelm. But the helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders.

This looks to me like her hair was bound by the helmet itself and only reaches her shoulders once the helmet is removed. The close association with her hair/the helmet/secrecy does also suggest IMO that concealing her hair was part of the Dernhelm disguise.

This may be a minor continuity error of sorts (in all honesty, it seems pretty trivial even to me), since a Rider without long hair otherwise would stand out rather than be more disguised. It's easy enough to fanwank—perhaps there actually are some male Rohirrim with shorter hair among the rest, perhaps her hair is enough longer than usual that her gender would be more obvious if she wore her hair (comparatively) long like the men rather than hiding it in her helmet or whatever.

In any case, I still think there would be a pretty clear distinction between the usual length of male Riders' hair and Éowyn's, that she could have cut it to that length, and that it'd be cool if she had.

You can change that in the settings <3

oh my god, people can see the shit i like.

Bilbo: I love you,

Thorin: Affection? Disgusting.

Thorin: ... Do it again

Ok, first, legolas understands no social ques, and when paired with Aragorn, who also knows nothing, it is just amazing

Second, why are they all hot?