nixofwaterdeep

[nixofwaterdeep]

Painted Crimson

Thranduil x Female!Reader

725 words

CW: Bathing, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, Elven!Reader, Established Relationship, Married, Possibly OOC Thranduil, Protective!Thranduil, Referenced Canon Typical Violence, Sindarin, Soft Thranduil

A/N: Another repost from my AO3 that never saw the light of day on here. 😂 This originally was inspired by a prompt but I can’t seem to find it again despite searching for years. If anyone can find it, I'll link it and credit the person both on her and AO3.

Lowering her body down into the body of water, a hiss escaped her lips as the fresh wounds were engulfed by the hot water. The clear water quickly turned crimson as water immersed her. Faint hand prints were left one by one along the sides of the tub, and drips of water mixed with orc blood trickled down. The further she sunk down, the more flakes of dried blood floated along the surface of the water, along with various debris that clung to her body.

Quietly, she groaned, running soap over her aching body. Areas that once were monotone were now littered with multicolored bruises, evidence of her encounter from earlier in the day. Her groans grew louder, however, when she moved to wash her hair. Between the pain from when she had taken a huge hit to the hit during the battle and her achy shoulders, washing her blood and dirt-stained hair was a near-impossible task.

"Meleth nîn," (My love) A voice called out just from outside the bathroom door. "Ci mael?" (Are you well?)

"Im..." (I am…)

The groan that escaped her lips contradicted her, though. With a small warning beforehand, the door to the bath opened and Thranduil walked in, a frown on his lips. The Elvenking's frown deepened at the sight of his wife's current state.

“Dab- nin...” (Allow me…) Thranduil murmured, closing the door behind him before taking his place behind her.

Gently pushing her hands away, the Elvenking got to work. With some shampoo in hand, his hands entangled themselves in her hair as he began to massage her scalp. Soft moans and groans escaped her lips as she leaned into her husband's touch. Although his hands were normally harsh, they were soft when it came to her.

"What happened?" He asked after some time had passed, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

“I was ambushed.”

Her lips moved to continue speaking, but quickly closed when a sudden sharp pain radiated through her. Unwillingly, she let out a harsh hiss, her teeth clenching as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Goheno nin." (Forgive me) Thranduil murmured with a frown.

She nodded, waiting for the pain to subside some more before continuing.

"Glamogs. There were too many of them.” (Orcs)

"Where were the guards?"

"Right alongside me." She replied. "It was so odd. That many so far past the border."

"...Odd indeed." The Elvenking replied quietly, his hands unmoving as he processed his wife's words. It was silent for a few moments before he spoke once more, mostly to himself. "I'll need a word with them later…"

His hands carefully began to move once more, massaging the product into her hair strands. Silently, he continued his work, his mind clearly elsewhere as he worked. Finishing her hair, he moved to her body, his hands careful around the areas of discoloration. His movements grew slower and slower until his hands eventually stopped on her shoulders.

"Meleth nîn..."

Her smaller hands covered his larger ones, gently squeezing them in an attempt to grab the elvenking’s attention. The corners of her lips twitched upward when his hands moved to take hers into his, intertwining their fingers together in the process, their matching rings shining brightly despite the dim lighting.

"Yes, meleth nîn?" Thranduil hummed.

”Is everything alright?”

The room remained quiet for a while with only the sounds of the occasional water splash and the Elvenking’s breathing behind her all that could be heard. With the occasional squeeze to her hands she waited patiently. Pulling his hands forward slightly, she slowly pressed her lips to each of his knuckles, her thumb running across the skin shortly after.

When her lips pressed his final knuckle and her thumb passed across the area, Thranduil removed his hand from her grasp and slipped it around her bare waist. Pulling her in as close as he could, in their current position, he pressed kisses starting from her shoulder, up her neck, and until he reached her jawline.

”Everything will be.” Thranduil eventually answered, his voice no louder than a whisper as his lips brushed against her skin. “I promise you this.”

Kneeling further forward the elvenking’s lips met hers. With an pleased hum, she responded instantly. The kiss was short but sweet, followed by a peck here and a peck there before Thranduil pulled away entirely.

”…You have nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of everything.”

[nixofwaterdeep]

Inexperienced

Hoshina talking Y/N through it.

Soshiro Hoshina x Gender-Neutral!Reader

179 words (Drabble)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

CW: Co-Workers, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Power Dynamics

A/N: Wrote this when I was experimenting with possibly writing for KN8 and smut like a year ago or something.

“Just like that, darling.” Hoshina cooed, guiding Y/N’s head down his length. A small yet pleased smile teased his lips as he watched his member disappear in between their lips. “Very good.”

Hoshina’s fingers tangled into their hair, eyes fluttering closed as he hit the back of his partner’s mouth. A quiet gag filled the air.

“Easy now...” The vice captain murmured, pulling Y/N’s head back some, exposing some of his length to the cool air once more much to his dismay.

With his free hand coming to rest just under their jaw, the pad of his thumb caressed their skin soothingly. The vice captain’s subordinate relaxed into his touch earning a small chuckle. Hoshina kept their current position for a moment. Running his thumb across their jaw, he admired how nice the view was. Y/N on their knees, his cock stuffing their mouth, a trail of drool at the corner of their lips, a pleading yet desire filled expression painted across his darling’s features.

He could get used to this.

“Not all at once.” Yet.

[nixofwaterdeep]

A Little Less Temporary

Maybe it's time to finally make that next step.

John MacTavish (Soap) x Female!Reader

1,005 words

CW: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant

A/N: This is a repost from my old blog.

The apartment was from before they had ever met. It was a cheap and small studio apartment in the middle of Edinburgh, with enough room for her stuff and a place for her to sleep at night. Most of her day was spent outside the space, originally there on an exchange program with her university. Her living quarters were meant to be as temporary as the ink on her skin that her friend haphazardly doodled across her skin while the last of the bachelorette party got matching tattoos, taking shots and shots of alcohol afterward.

The old, creeky floors and doors that never quite worked right became a permeant fixture in her life after she met him.

It wasn't planned, already having the plane tickets to return home in a couple of months purchased and ready to go. Her lease was going to run out later that same month she was supposed to leave. Yet, a week after she was meant to be home, there she was in that same old apartment with none of her belongings backed and in the arms of the Scotsman she met randomly during her friend's bachelorette party months ago.

She never left those strong arms since, remaining at his side when his line of work permitted it. That was two years ago and while their relationship had definitely changed since then, her surroundings hadn't.

"Ah dinnae ken how ya do it, hen." Johnny murmured against her temple, pressing a kiss to her skin in between his words. "This place…"

Peering up at him, Y/N bit back the laugh that threatened to spill from her lips. It took all of two seconds to see how carefully he was considering his words. Normally not one to mind his words, it was amusing to watch him be so cautious while speaking about her living arrangement.

The space was undoubtedly made her own. After staying in the country, she had actually decorated the apartment to the best of her capabilities. From the carefully chosen color scheme, the pictures of her family and friends scattered throughout, to the homely scent from the candle she was always burning when she occupied the space. It screamed her despite the less than ideal space.

After watching her for weeks carefully select everything to make the place feel more homely, Johnny respected the time and effort that had gone into the place. It was cute and comfortable. However, that comfort came at a cost. The place was small, which was fine when it was primarily occupied by just Y/N. Thing was, though, it wasn't ever just her there anymore. They had been together for a while now, and more and more of their stuff was at each other's places, more so one place in particular.

Johnny's place was a bit bigger, but it wasn't much better. With him being often deployed overseas, he has hardly anything at his. Most of his belongings nowadays could be found at hers.

At some point, they had naturally started spending more and more time at Y/N's. With that came with Johnny unintentionally beginning to live with her between deployments. It was unspoken. Although they basically already lived together, neither knew how the other felt about truly taking that next step.

Make the move to something less temporary.

"It's a wee small, isn't it?" He continued cautiously.

Turning in his arms, Y/N languidly wrapped her arms around his waist and threw her leg across his hips, settling into the position. His arms tightened around her and further pulled her into his embrace. With a twitch of the corner of her lips, she pressed a chaste kiss to his bare chest, running her hand along his side and down, stopping when she reached his partly exposed pelvic bone.

"It is, but it makes it sort of charming. Don't you think?"

The Scotsman hummed thoughtfully.

"Aye. Ah suppose."

Running a hand through her hair, Johnny pressed another kiss to her head. As his lips left her skin, she shifted slightly, enough to where her lips could meet his in a tender kiss.

“Though, ah dinnae see this place being great long term.” He continued after a moment, pulling away enough to gaze into her eyes.

Y/N hummed thoughtfully.

“And what would be better?”

Johnny's hand ran down her back and across her hip, settling on the fattiest part of her thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze, affectionately nuzzling her nose, a hint of apprehension bleeding over into his features despite his gestures.

“A place just outside the city with a proper a kitchen, livin’ room, and bedroom.”

His words were slow and spoken with an abnormal beat. Anxiously, his tongue ran across his lips as he paused, the beautiful blue eyes she had come to know and love not quite meeting her own anymore, focusing around her rather than on her.

Y/N's hand left his waistline and trailed upward, slipping underneath his stubbled jawline and resting there. Gently, she ran her thumb along his jaw, patiently listening to his words.

“With you… and perhaps me.”

Instinctively, her brows raised at the latter, and her eyes widened before narrowing. She pushed herself onto her elbow with the arm that laid underneath them, and peered down at him. His expression remained relatively neutral, the haziness usually sharp eyes being the only indication of what was possibly floating through his mind.

“Are you…?” She asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.

She hoped he couldn't feel how stupidly fast her heart was beating at the thought. The little upturn of his lips as he soothingly ran his hand up and down her bare thigh hinted otherwise.

“Perhaps.” His volume matched her own, the changing of his tone clear.

Leaning down, Y/N kissed him eagerly, her leg tightening around his hips subconsciously. A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she pulled away, a bright smile painting her lips.

"If that's the case. When do we start hunting for a place?”

[nixofwaterdeep]

Welcome to my blog~

This blog was made on impulse. This blog serves as a catch all for all of my fanfics that do not fit under my other writing blogs ( @seireiteifics + @kisstheloveinterest ). @ky0raku is my main blog and is where all of my interactions will come from.

Masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish (MW2022)

A Little Less Temporary

John Price (MW2019)

Let Me Hear Your Voice (One Last Time)

Soshiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

Inexperienced (18+)

Thranduil (The Hobbit)

Painted Crimson

[nixofwaterdeep]

Let Me Hear Your Voice (One Last Time)

In his line of work, John Price was all too familiar with death. He had watched the light in his fellow comrades' eyes disappear before them as they bleed out on the battlefield. Death was never easy but this one? It hit right at home.

John Price x Gender Neutral!Reader

2,171 words

CW: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Established Relationship, Hurt/No Comfort, Marriage Proposal, Mentioned Age Difference, Referenced Canon Typical Violence

A/N: I had a big cry. Impulsively made this blog. Now I’m posting a fic I wrote earlier this month and posted on AO3. As one does. Hello, everyone! 😂

Being a Captain in the Special Air Services, John was well acquainted with death. Practically an old friend to him now after years and years of service. Not only had he taken the lives of his enemies, who likely had families of their own, but had lost his fellow comrades as well, good men whose lives were cut short. While the unsettling feeling that came with witnessing life leave one’s eyes never quite went away, John had learned to make his own peace with it, keeping the greater picture in mind.

His years of experience, though, never prepared him for the day when death would take a visit a little too close to home.

The day had started normally enough. While it wasn’t John’s preferred way to awake, having grown used to falling asleep and awakening with his partner curled up against his muscular chest, in between his arms that wrapped tightly around their waist, and face buried into their hair. Instead, he woke up alone, again, with not a single word from his partner since their last brief phone call a week ago and months since he last held them in his arms. He was used to it. It came with the territory when both of them were in the same line of work.

Much like any morning, John started with a cup of tea. He was never much of a tea drinker, despite the British stereotype. At least, that was until his partner came along. What started out as a mere means to get closer to Y/N in the early days turned into something that made him feel closer to them when they were apart. The smell, the taste, the warmth, it all reminded him of them.

Forcing his aching body out of bed, John started the kettle like usual, and began on his first cigar for the day. It was a rare day off for the Captain, and his movements reflected that. His fingers loosely held the end of his smoke as he languidly leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut momentarily. His eyes only opened again when the kettle screeched, and he begrudgingly pushed himself to his full height, scooting closer to the hot pot. John's cigar hung from his lips while he made his tea, the side of his lips opening and closing with each puff of smoke.

Just as he finished making his tea, his work phone rang from the other room. For a moment, he thought about not answering, truthfully wanting to keep his only day off a day off. In the end, he abandoned his tea and quickly went for his phone. No one besides a select few individuals even had the number to begin with, so he answered without checking the caller ID, suspecting it to be either Shepherd or Laswell on the other side. The usual suspects.

“John.”

His gray-blue eyes widened then narrowed. Quickly finding his way to his desk, John sat down in the worn office chair, his untouched tea long forgotten with a surge of energy pumping through his body. John’s work phone was for emergencies only, and they knew this. In all the years the two had known each other, Y/N had only ever called this number once, the remainder of their calls being on their personal cells.

Something wasn’t right.

“Love? Is everything alright?” He purposefully kept his voice even when he spoke, listening for anything and everything to give some sort of indicator what his partner’s situation was.

There was no yelling, gunshots, or anything in the background, it was purely silent. Y/N, however, didn’t sound like their usual self. Their usually melodic way of saying his name was short and strained, their voice in a lower register than they’d naturally speak in.

“Just peachy.” Y/N replied, grunting quietly as they positioned themselves against the nearby wall.

Their unoccupied hand clutched their abdomen, cringing with every slight movement. Thick crimson liquid continued to gush out, coating anything that it came into contact with, the desert cameo cladding their body no longer the color it was when they slipped it on that morning. Briefly, they lifted their hand and clicked their tongue. Their eyes flickered over to the dead soldier at their feet, their facial features furrowing into something ugly, one the person on the other side of the line would likely make fun of if he were there and under a different scenario.

“...Just calling to check in.”

John's brows knitted together. While they attempted to cover their moans and groans, pulling the phone away from their lips with every small movement, John could hear everything. He slowly took a deep breath and released it, his eyes squeezing shut, not entirely prepared to have the conversation they were about to have. Not only was it too early in the morning, but it wasn't exactly one he desired to have with them. The one who he had purchased a pretty little silver band he purchased with their mother's assistance sitting in his dresser merely waiting for their return. The one who he intended to never let go again, if he could help it, when they returned.

“How broken are you, love?”

"What do you mean?" Y/N weakly laughed, triggering a groan that followed closely behind.

"Love." He warned in a low voice.

They sighed. The line went silent for a moment, their breathing growing a hair more ragged than before, biting back a harsh cough.

"What gave it away?" They managed out before the cough they were desperately holding back slipped out.

The deep, harsh cough made them both cringe. The Captain didn't need to be there to know what that specific type of cough meant. If John were a betting man, he'd guess there was blood coating their plush bottom lip and chin, maybe a little bit coating their gloved hand or the front of their tactical vest.

"Never could hide anything from you." Y/N continued after coughing a few more times, the corners of their lips turning upward recalling similar times they've previously had together.

"It comes with age." He retorted, playing along for now.

"You're not that much older, John."

"It's enough."

There was a brief pause. The silence that fell over them was suffocating, neither quite wanting to face the reality of the situation head on, to get to the meat of the matter. With each painful breath Y/N took and their breath growing more rigged by the minute, the Captain side of John took over. Mostly.

"Are you safe?"

"For now." There was an unnaturally long pause in between their sentences, the muscles in their throat constricting their airway, screaming for them to not continue. They continued anyway, hoarse voice and all. "Those who were able, were able to exfil successfully. The mission was a success."

"And they just left you?” John found himself saying, the words leaving his lips before he could process what was coming out.

“John—“

“I know… I know.” Running a hand through his short, unkempt hair, he sighed. "How bad is it?"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I-I…" they paused. Their lips opened and then closed, repeating the motion over and over again. Their lips opened once more, the words they needed to force out at the tip of their tongue only to be forced away with another round of rough coughing. Patiently they waited for the fit to subside before trying again. "I don't think I'm coming home, John."

John could've swore his heart stopped in the moment. From the moment he heard their voice on the other side of line deep down he knew it was a possibility. That still did not change how hard the words were to swallow when they finally hit his ears and was forced to sit with such information.

"I really called because I wanted to hear your voice. One last time."

"Love—"

"Don't." They interrupted weakly, already know what he was going to say. "I know my fate. I don't need any false hope. I just want my final moments to be with you, even if it is only over call."

John's facial features scrunched together, doing everything in his power to fight his instincts when it came to Y/N. His brain was saying one thing while his body was saying another, fighting for dominance inside him, and it was painful to push down everything his body was telling him to do. Reassure them. Call Shepherd, Y/N's superior, anyone who had the possible power to get them out of the battlefield and into the hands of a medic. Hell, rush there himself. Anything.

John's free hand rested across the chair's armrest. His fingers curled around the long, thin material, clinging to it until his knuckles were white.

"Tell me about what you have been doing while I've been gone." Y/N's weak voice snapped him out of his head, drawing his attention back to them.

He noted the shallowness of their breathing now and the lack of power behind their voice. He sighed.

If he could do one thing, at the very least he could do this.

"Your mum dropped by this week. Spent some time with her."

"That must've been nice… how did it go?"

"Well enough. Treated her to lunch. She begged to visit that cafe you love so much."

Y/N gasped. At least, attempted to.

"Without me?"

John hummed.

"Told her we'll have all go again when we're all in town." He paused, forcing the growing pain in his chest away. "We did swing by one place while we were out."

"Where… did you go?"

"You remember that place at the corner of main street?"

The line went silent. The silence was deafening with not even the sound of Y/N's breathing coming across the call. The worst crept at the edge of John's mind, suspecting that he was out of time already, before he gotten the chance to tell them. His worries briefly dissipated when a faint hum finally came through.

"That's a… a jewelry store. What were- ahem, you doing at a jewelry store?"

Releasing the armrest from his grasp, John hoisted himself up onto his feet. With large and quick paces he quickly return back to their bedroom where he immediately reached for the drawers on his side. Just buried beneath a layer of socks was a small, red velvet box. His thumb popped open the box, his gaze locking on the simplistic band. Engraved on the inner band were their initials and the day John asked Y/N out on their first date.

"I bought a little something. For you, actually."

Awkwardly he cleared his throat, his mouth and throat feeling dry all the sudden. This was it. This was his one and only chance.

"An engagement ring."

There was another beat of silence.

"E-Engagement ring? John, we're not… wait?"

John let out a bitter chuckle.

"John."

"Was going to surprise you when you got home. Take you to that French restaurant you like, then the park with that pond with all the geese. They're all assholes, by the way."

A faint chuckle reached John's ears.

"I like them. They remind me of you."

"I resent that." He retorted, furrowing his brows slightly.

John ran his thumb along the band, the pain in his chest growing to an unprecedented amount. This moment was supposed to be one of the highlights of their lives. Not marking the end of theirs. It just wasn't right. Why did it have to be them? If it had to be one of them, why not him instead?

"I was going to pay to feed those damned birds, then take a stroll around the park. When the right moment stroke, get down on my knee. …I'm not good with all that mushy stuff, as you know, but, I was working on something to say for that moment. At the end I would ask."

"…Ask me."

He choked.

"Now?"

"Now."

There was another moment of silence. John removed the ring from its casing, rotating it slowly between his index finger and thumb, studying the unworn band for the hundredth time. He released a sigh, his breath hitching slightly as it left his mouth.

"It's unconventional but… Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"

Y/N's breathing was sharp and short by then. Remaining conscious had become a more and more difficult task with each passing moment. With everything they had left in them, Y/N nodded their head and managed out a short, tear filled answer.

"Yes. I-I'll marry you… I… l-love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

John's voice fell on deaf ears. Shortly after Y/N accepted his proposal, a rough thud could be heard from the other side of the line before going dead. No matter how many times John tried to call back, the call was never answered, leaving him only the sound of the default voicemail message to answer his frantic calls.