#fanfiction by virginia

[darlingshane]

better than indica

Sam Rossi x GN!Reader

Summary: Sam needs a distraction from his pain, and you're happy to help him out.

Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Smut, BJ, Come Swallowing, Drug Mention, Pet names.

Word Count: 1k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was written for Naughty or Nice Prompt fest @bernthirst-events. Prompt: Giving Sam Rossi head.

A shiver runs down your spine as you rid your body of clothes in the dim light room of the motel. Though the heat is on, the blistering cold from a winter night clings to your skin even after closing the door. It’s Sam stare that thrills you to be fair. He's lying on his back, head propped on a pillow. His shirt is off, the honey soft glow of the lamp highlights the curves of his torso, warms up his bare skin. His jeans are still on, belt buckled low down his waist. You can see the defined lines of Adonis belt that trail down his lower abdomen, ending somewhere underneath the denim.

Sam was half asleep when you entered the room and now, his eyes are wide open, holding his breath, watching you carefully remove every layer of fabric away from your body until there's nothing left but your underwear. Even though your back is turned to him, you can feel the fire of his browns tenderly caressing and warming every inch of your back.

When you turn around, his eyes have shut down, but you know he’s fully awake by the way the denim fabric bulges below the silver buckle. That’s all it takes to make him hard these days. Just a gaze. Just some exposed skin. And you're no better. You're just as easily turned on by laying eyes on him. Exactly like this moment right here as you slowly crawl onto the mattress from the way down, you can feel that tingle between your legs of being so close to him. His scent is soft but blissfully intoxicating. The tip of your nose grazes his beard as you get into position on all fours, hovering over his body.

“I know you’re awake, honey,” you whisper oh so dangerously close to his lips. “Saw you watching me.”

The corners of his lips draw a bashful grin as his eyes flick open.

“I didn't mean to stare–” one of his hands finds your arm. Your skin sticks out as he gently draws circles with his thumb along your forearm.

“It’s okay, baby. I like it when you look at me.” You plant a soft kiss on his mouth and tug his belt. “Why are these still on?”

“I was too tired to take them off. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah? Bum leg giving you a hard time tonight again?” Your fingers dance slowly along the line of his waistband. “Do you need a little distraction?”

“Need a big distraction.”

“Okay, lemme take care of you.”

Glancing down, you unbuckle his belt and open his fly. Then you find his stare as your hand slips under the elastic of his underwear. You bite your lip watching his expression turn as you gently place your palm over his mild erection and massage it ever so carefully until it starts to swell harder. You curl your fingers a little stronger each time, filling your fist with his firm length. Your head bows to capture his mouth, and he feeds you the sweetest moan as you pump him a little rougher, making him spill a few early drops all over your fingers. You use those to up the rhythm and let his head spin away from the pain. Once he’s completely surrendered to your touch, you pull away from his kiss, scooting back to kneel between his legs. You peel his jeans along with his boxers further down to uncover the erect monument you've built at his center.

Licking your lips, you glance at his eyes to see him fully immersed in a lust spell as you bow down to take him in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you stick your tongue out and as the tip grazes the underside of his cock it jolts on reflex against your lips. You trace the hard edge of his length all the way up, and then repeat the same motion but firmly pressing the plane of your tongue over his hardness, leaving a trail of spit. You wrap one hand at the base and keep him up as your lips sensually suck on the tip, collecting his arousal. Taking him further into your mouth, you seal your lips tightly around him as your head bobs up and down, gradually faster. Sam can't help but submit to the pleasure you provide. The grunts buried deep in his throat tell you how much he's enjoying you eating his cock. He would shove it down your throat if he had the strength to hold your head and thrust into you, but right now he can barely lift his hips. It's easy to see how he aches more by the way he curses under his breath or how his fingers struggle to grip at your hair.

You got him. Through and through, you take it further and viciously suck every inch of his cock, pushing him further into that sweet undoing.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good, sweetheart…” his voice comes out ragged. “Yeah, just like that. Keep… going…”

You hum around his firmness, keeping a steady pace and granting him that big relief he needs.

Sam can barely keep his eyes open, but he forces them to stay wide so he can see your perfect lips curled around him, taking him full into the depth of your mouth. He can feel your tongue, the pressure of your lips, and his head touching the back of your throat when you go further down.

When he reaches the edge, you move your free hand to grab his balls and give him that ultimate push that has his cock spill everything inside your mouth. A deep grunt bounces off the walls as you squeeze him tightly in your fist for a couple of seconds. His whole body shivers beneath you, taken mindlessly to that plane where there’s no pain, just sheer pleasure, as you drink every last drop.

Drawing a breath, you let him go and lean back and lick your lips watching him gasping for air. His chest rises and falls. His stomach hollows as you place your palm there to capture the heat emanating from his torso.

“C’mere. You always take such good care of me, baby,” he breathlessly tucks an arm around you and pulls you down to his side. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Yeah? Did it make you feel better?”

“Much better, sweetheart.”

“Better than indica?”

“Definitely better than indica.”

“I doubt that,” you scoff, and Sam laughs softly, holding you closer to him. “But I’ll take it.”

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story pt. 3

Warnings: cheating, illusions to sex, angst, not BETA'D we die like men.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 2.1k

“Oh, so soon?” he leaned in, obviously interested in my request, “And what might your boon be?”

“As you can probably guess, I need a job. I have an interview tomorrow morning for the role of your PA. If that doesn’t pan out -because of anyone's request outside of your own- I still want a good-paying job with decent benefits. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll cut it short, you’re hired.”

“Please, I don’t need your pity.”

"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't hire you out of pity. It's because of what you did just now. I gave you barely any details, and you came up with a sub-par solution." Satisfied with his answer, he reaches over and takes a sip of my coffee. 

"Sub-par says I go out, find your bodyguard, and drag him back here." He visibly aspirates, coughing into a napkin for a minute or so. I got up, got a straw, and returned. By the time I sat down, he had regained most of his composure.

"You had a good plan that led to a good solution," gesturing to himself, "I'm a rich asshole. Are we happy?” A slight rasp remained in his voice.

“Sufficiently. I accept the role of your PA, Mr. Stark. When should I start?"

"After your interview with Ms. Potts. You did say that if anyone aside from me was against you as my PA, you'd be fine with it."

I leaned back, covering my eyes with my hand, ”Yeah, I did."

"Don't try denying it. JARVIS has been recording- I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I fully acknowledge and stand by my previous statement. And, did you just admit to illegally recording our conversation?” My other hand raised pointing at him, “If so, that would be quite unfortunate for you and Stark Industries.” I separated my fingers to see his shocked yet slightly confused expression.

"Well, shit.”

I lowered my hand to the arm of the chair, tilting my head slightly, “Did you think I wouldn’t own up to my word? Please, Tony -can I call you Tony? I’m going to call you Tony- I do have morals, they’re a bitch, but they’re there. When I make promises, I follow through with them.” I look down at my lap, my hands wrapped around my stomach, “I hate people who break their promises. They are the worst kind of people. All that does is hurt those around them, but they’re too self-centered to realize that until it’s too late- sometimes even then it doesn’t click.” I glance up, he’s leaning closer to me, a worried look plastered across his face.

I straighten, collect my things, and move to get up, “I suppose I’ll see you at my interview tomorrow, Mr. Stark.” I walk away and out of the café, hearing the bell ring as I walk out.

I fell face down into my bed, arms spread out. “I just met THE Anthony Edward Stark and acted like it was no big deal. What is wrong with me?” I grabbed a pillow, held it to my chest, curled up into the fetal position, and screamed. “How could I have acted like it was nothing? He’s an A-list celebrity and I just brushed it off!” I prop up onto my elbows, my hands extending forward.

I spent the afternoon and evening just watching TV and reading. While I didn’t typically read graphic books, Hemingway and Remarque’s book had been sitting in my collection untouched for far too long, and it wasn’t necessarily a horrible way to finish the day. About halfway through “All Quiet On The Western Front” I realized just how depressing this book was and how glad I hadn't gone over it with my high school classes. The case remained much the same for “A Farewell to Arms”.

My phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to start getting ready for bed. I got up to grab it, shutting off the tone. I stood up, went to the bathroom, completed my nightly routine, and set out my clothes for my interview, although it seemed I had been hired in all but formalities.

I woke up the next day with a slight ache in my bones but, nothing like the previous day. I got ready and headed out to the Stark Industries headquarters. When I arrived I wasn’t necessarily shocked. The lobby was sleek and modern, bustling with the morning rush. I walked up to the receptionist, an older woman, and told her that I was there for the interview for the role of Mr. Stark’s assistant. I confirmed she looked me up and down before saying my name aloud. She handed me a card, stating it was a single use and would be deactivated once I left the building before pointing me to the elevator, guarded by the head of security, Mr. Stark’s bodyguard, Happy Hogan.

I walked over he looked at me slightly puzzled as I walked up to the elevator, sliding the activated card. It took a moment or two before the door opened and I could not be happier. I walked in and the doors shut. 

“Crap, I didn’t get the floor.” I placed my face in my hand, aggravated at my forgetfulness.

An electronic voice rang out, “I believe I can be of some assistance, Mx.”.

I screamed, “What the fuck?” I backed into a corner, grabbing the rails.

“Apologies, I seem to have startled you. I’m JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI.”

“O-okay? Can you send me up to Mrs. Potts’ floor?”

“Of course.”

The elevator ride passes quickly thanks to Stark’s AI. As the doors open JARVIS informs me that the door on the right leads to Ms. Potts’ office. I walk up to the door and knock, ”Come in!” A voice calls out. I open the door and introduce myself.

Ms. Potts was a taller woman with blonde hair. She ran around frantically, “I’m so sorry, an urgent business meeting just came up. Would it be okay to reschedule your interview?”

“Yes, yes, of course. These things happen, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?” I move close to her desk.

The look on her face shows she didn't expect my reaction. "Um, yes. In one of the piles over there. There should be twelve documents with the keywords Stark v. Hammer." She points over the corner where there are three medium-sized piles of papers

"Oh, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. My assistant has been on sick leave for two weeks and my office has become an absolute mess." I hear the clink of metal on the ground. She squats down, looking for whatever it was that had fallen.

"Really, it's no problem. I've worked in worse offices, this is nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The lawyer I worked for in college. He was a mess. He wouldn't let anyone move his things, so it just stayed that way until he needed a specific paper or file, and then he would send me looking. Apparently, he did that to all of his assistants after one of them, about five years before me, lost one of the major papers in a big case for the firm. He fired her immediately." I rifled through the paperwork, quickly finding a handful of the documents.

"That sounds horrible, although, from a business person's perspective I can somewhat understand." 

"Yeah, it was crazy. I worked for him for four years and almost feel bad for leaving. He finally adjusted and was comfortable with me going through the records." I had found all but one of the papers at this point and had looked through all three piles with no luck.

"Ms. Potts?"

She stands up, bumping her head on the edge of her desk, "Yes?"

"Sorry, um, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She grasps the back of her head, wincing. She's clearly not.

"Are you sure? You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yes, really. What were you asking about?"

"Okay, are you sure all of the papers are over here? There's one missing. I've gone over the stacks at least three times." 

"Yes, of course. They're all there, I could've sworn." She walks over, or at least attempts to as about halfway she grasps her head, a small groan accompanying the action. I run over, offering my arm. She takes my arm, and I lower her to the ground, a quiet 'thank you' thrown in the midst.

There was a small cut on the back of her head, a small amount of blood flowing out. I place my fingers on the cut, using my powers to heal it. A sharp pain found its way to the back of my head for a moment before it fades.

"Thank you. I think I just needed to sit down for a moment. But, yes, all of the papers should be over here. It's odd that there's one missing."

"Could it be in a different stack?"

"It shouldn't be, then again, I haven't exactly been keeping this place clean enough to say. Crap! The meeting's supposed to start in a few minutes."

"How far into the meeting do you need the papers, and how long do you expect this meeting will be?"

"Maybe two-thirds of the way through and half an hour at the shortest. Why?"

"I'm gonna buy you some time, obviously. I'll look through the rest of the papers to find the missing page. Once I find it I'll head over to your meeting room and deliver the papers as if you'd asked for them just before the meeting began. How does that sound?"

She walks up to me and hugs me. As she pulls away she says, "You are a lifesaver! Thank you." She grabs her papers and walks out of her office, presumably to the meeting room as I stand there stunned, unmoving as a stone.

When her trance breaks, I start moving around the room, quickly checking each pile for the missing paper. I tried to stay in the general area she originally pointed me to with no luck. I slowly moved towards the desk, it was the only place I hadn't checked yet.

I went through the different stacks before finding the paper in the third, guess it really was the charm. I collected all of the papers in a manilla folder, finishing it off with a paperclip -just as a precaution. As I went to grab the door handle JARVIS told me which meeting room they were on.

I walked out to the small foyer between the two offices and entered the elevator. JARVIS took me to the correct floor.

I walked up to the door of the meeting room Ms. Potts was in and knocked on the door before entering. I looked inside to see a variety of old, white businessmen and Ms. Potts in front of a projector explaining something I wasn't about to pretend I understood. She looked relieved. 

I walked in just enough to where I could close the door, "Apologies, Ms. Potts, is this a bad time? I have the paperwork you requested."

"Oh no, not at all." She walked over to me, taking the folder from my hands. "Thank you." She whispered.

"It was no problem at all, Ma'am. Would you like me to continue working in your office, or go home for the day?"

"Please, wait in my office." She tipped her head slightly, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

I excused myself and headed back to Ms. Potts office. I waited for her in one of the armchairs at her desk. I checked my phone and realized I hadn't read the e-mail from Scott yet. I opened his message, the contents shocking me.

'Hi, I know it's been a while since we've talked, I mean really talked. I'm sorry, I chose a girl who saw me as the second choice over the person who's been my best friend practically since we met. I'm leaving the mansion too. Things have been crazy here. The professor is making Jean and Logan sub for all the classes you used to teach, and he'll be doing so for every teacher who leaves because of what happened. I'm planning on moving back to Anchorage. My parents left the house to Alex, but he gave everything to me in his will, making it mine. That house has to be 80 or so years old now, it's going to need a lot of repairs. I'll send you the address once it's all fixed up, maybe have some tea and catch up. 

See you someday,

Scott.'

[chellestrash]

The stars we lay under

Sam Rossi x Reader

Summary: You manage to get Sam away from the motel for one evening. Turns out you both needed it more than you thought.

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: Nothing much, mentions of angst.

A/N: Another day another fit for the @bernthirst-events BeardthalBash! Today i bring you Sam Rossi and i hope you'll enjoy this little piece i wrote.

“You sure this’s what you wanna do with your night, Dove?”

Sam's voice fills the cabin of the truck once he pulls the hand brake, parking near a small hiking trail off of the main road on the side of one of the many mountains surrounding the city.

You breathe out a silent laugh, smiling softly as you turn to face him. 

“You don’t?” 

You ask, jokingly, the idea he might take your question seriously, flies completely over your head.

“No! No shit. I-sorry, just…figured there are better things to do than...” 

He gestures out to the dark forest surrounding the car, and you follow his hand with your eyes already disagreeing with him in your mind.

“What? Than doing this really fun thing I've always wanted to do, with a cute guy I like?"

Sam scoffs, a quiet snort leaves his throat when your words make him laugh. His gaze drops, and he shakes his head slowly.

“You’re outta your mind, you know that, Dove?” 

He glances back up at you with a soft smile.

“Well.”

You shrug, pretending to think about what he just said.

“You chose to stick around, so…who’s really out of their mind here, huh?”

He chuckles again, and you opt to get him out of the car before he starts second guessing himself even more. 

“C’mon Sam, it’ll be fun, I promise.”

Pushing the car door open, you gesture for him to join you outside. He nods, silently agreeing, as you shut the door behind you before making your way over to the bed of the truck.

After a moment alone with his own thoughts, Sam exits the car with a quiet sigh. The cool, late night air runs over his face, and he feels the corner of his lips raise gently. He knew he needed this: time away from the city, the motel, the people, the rumors. He knew it, and somehow he knew you knew it too.

“Can you grab the pillows?” 

You ask, peeking out from behind the truck, and he turns to face you quickly.

“Mhm.”

He hums, lifting his hand to let you know you can leave it to him. 

After grabbing the motel pillows you brought with you from the car, he walks over to join you at the back, a slight limp in his step as he approaches you before handing over the two pillows.

“Thank youuu!”

"’Course."

He nods, and you perk up. Standing up on your toes, you press a small kiss to the side of his face, smiling against his skin when the thick hair prickles your cheek. The tremor in his hand calming down significantly once he rests his palm against your back.

“You think it’s a good spot?”

You ask after pulling away, before throwing a couple of blankets on top of the worn down mattress resting in the bed of the truck.

He doesn't answer immediately, he instead looks up at the night sky, his eyes scanning the peaks of the trees surrounding the spot you two chose to stay at, watching as they sway slowly in the wind. It's far enough from the city that you can still spot the lights below, but above you, the stars shine brighter than ever.

“Yeah.”

He mumbles, head tilted back. His arms press against his chest now, the thumb of his left hand rubbing against the knuckles on his right. 

You glance up into the sky, following his eyes with a big, bright smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I think so too.”

There's a moment of silence where he slips away from you. Attempting to take it all in, fighting with his own memories to stay present in the moment with you.

“C’mon.”

Nodding toward the bed of the truck, you gesture for him to follow you as you climb onto the old mattress. Sam watches, a small tilt of his head as a response to your bright smile. Another moment of silence and you can feel his hesitation. 

“I know it looks dumb, but it'll be nice, I promise.”

A nod, another moment to make up his mind, followed by one last nod. With a grunt, Sam climbs up onto the back of the truck.

“Ah, shit.”

He mumbles, and you chuckle softly before resting your head on one of the pillows. 

“You okay there?”

“Yeah ‘s fine, I got it.”

Shortly after, he joins you on the mattress. Laying down next to you, he reaches for one of the blankets to pull it over both of you. You snuggle up into his chest, and he wraps his arms gently around your body, one under your neck and the other around your back. Once you two finally settle in, Sam allows himself to relax. With a deep sigh, his muscles relax, and before his mind can slip away from him, he decides to focus on this—on you, on this moment. 

Pulling you into him, he tightens his hold around you slightly. His thumb rubs over your shoulder gently, and your scent mixes with the smell of the forest at night. He watches as you turn your head to face the sky and follows your gaze. The shine of the stars contrast so beautifully with the deep navy blue sky, never as visible from the motel as they are from this small secluded spot not many people knew about.

“This how you imagined it?”

You nod quickly, not wanting him to question, even for a second, how much you appreciate this, how perfect it feels, how happy it makes you.

“Yeah.”

Snuggling further into him, you move your hand up higher, your fingers rub over the side of his face before you start brushing your fingertips over the facial hair. 

“Okay, I know it's kinda dumb but…”

You glance up, your eyes scan over his face.

“It's nice, isn't it?”

He nods, blinking softly with a small smile, his hand rubbing over your back reassuringly. 

“You glad you said yes?”

He snorts, chucking at the question, before nodding one more time.

“I am dove, really am.”

Smiling to yourself, you press a kiss against his chest, then another one and then one more at the side of his neck. You rest your head right under his chin, the beard now scratching over your face when he moves even the slightest bit, your fingers still scratching over his cheek. 

Embracing one another, you stay silent for a while, taking in each other's company as if it's something that could eventually slip through your fingers. 

“I've missed you.”

You whisper into his neck. You’re careful with your words, trying to express your emotions without pushing him too hard.

“Yeah?”

His rumbly whisper, barely audible, blended with the sounds of the forest. He doesn't dismiss the way you feel, doesn’t try to convince you otherwise this time. You nod, humming quietly, and he smiles softly, glancing down into your eyes, your fingers tracing over his face.

“Missed this.”

“The beard?”

“Mhhhmmm.”

You purr softly, throwing your leg over his, doing your best to get as close to him as physically possible.

“Shit, really, Dove?...Thought about shaving it off?”

You freeze, lifting your head off the pillow to look him in the eyes.

“WHAT?!”

The question comes out louder than you anticipated it. Sam laughs out loud, pulling you closer to him to press a kiss to the side of your head.

“What? You don't think I could rock it?”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly while shaking your head.

“No one says that anymore, Sam.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

You lay on your stomach, now leaning over his face, your soft smile earning you a smile back from him. 

“Can I still use it? Hmm? I can't keep up with all that shit, Dove.”

You breathe out a little laugh, leaning into his gentle touch when he brushes his finger down the side of your face, over your jaw and down your neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You both nod, and he moves in closer, his lips brushing over yours. Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue brushing over your lip, your nose pushing against his. His lips part and the warm breath spreads over your skin. You finally close your eyes, a gesture encouraging him to keep going. When his lips finally push against yours, your entire body relaxes in his embrace. The kiss is soft, slow and gentle at first. Your stomach tightens, and you feel the excitement deep, deep within your body. His tongue brushes over yours and a quiet moan slips past your lips, causing him to smile against them. The prickling sensation of his facial hair on your skin reminds you of the conversation from a couple of moments ago. 

“You're not really gonna shave the beard, right?”

You pull away, breaking the kiss just in time to watch him trying to collect himself after you move away silently.

“Not if you don't want me to, Dove.”

He answers quietly after a moment. 

“I love the beard.”

“Then it stays.”

“Promise?”

He chuckles softly, watching your expression and how serious the topic seems to be for you.

“I promise, Dove. I'll only shave it when you'll leave me.”

“Oh, god.”

Your eyes widen as you think over his words.

“That's gonna be a really long beard, Sammy.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

"Good, I'll hold you to it."

[fanfaron]

Wolf Trap

Dear Hannibal fanfiction writers,

Wolf Trap is two words, not one ('Wolftrap').

xoxo

[freshwolfhell]

The revelations about Virginia and his state of mind

[backtraf]

Hi! I'm still new to these kinds of stuff, but I really like reading your blogs!

I have a sotf prompt for you:

After getting rescued, Tim, Kelvin, and Virginia needed to recover. Virginia is sent to rest privately since 1) she's probably the last living Puffton, and 2) she's mutated. Tim and Kelvin on the other hand will be recovering in some sort of a military hospital.

Tim gets to leave first, but Kelvin must stay a bit longer. I imagine him visiting Kelvin occasionally with flowers or gifts and maybe even staying by his side for hours until he is asked to leave.

Tim opened the door to Kelvin's room and stepped inside. It had been almost two weeks since they had been rescued from the island, and while Tim only needed a few days of recovery, he still went to therapy. Kelvin was in worse shape than he was, physically. Because they had no way of getting his ears looked at, Kelvin had ended up with pretty severe ear infections. Tim figured that's why he had been dizzy and disoriented quite a bit.

Kelvin looked up and smiled when he saw him walk in, immediately signing, "You just can't stay away."

Tim smirked. "Not when it involves you. How are you doing?"

Kelvin shrugged and motioned for something to write with. Tim patted himself down and ended up pulling the notepad he had with him on the island, a weird pang going through him. He grabbed a pen from a nearby desk. Some of the things the doctor had told him he didn't know the signs for, so he often asked for a pen and paper.

Kelvin began writing as quickly as he could. It took a bit, but he finally showed Tim. "I'm feeling better. The ear infection is clearing up. The doctor said I might be able to hear again, but because of how long the infection had been, I would most likely need hearing aids."

Tim smiled and signed. "You'll be able to hear again?"

Kelvin smiled back and nodded. Tim leaned over and wrapped his arms around him in a hug.

When they pulled away, Kelvin asked, "How is Virginia?"

"Well, she inherited her family's fortune and is in therapy. She'll probably remain closed off because of..." Tim trailed off and frowned before trying to smile again. "She won't be alone. I've visited her quite a bit."

Kelvin smiled sadly before grabbing Tim's hand. "She's got us still, right?"

Tim smiled and nodded.

Another week went by with Tim visiting almost every day, and when he walked in next, the door squeaked as he opened it, and Kelvin went from looking out the window to turning his head at the noise. It caught Tim off guard, and he faltered as he stepped through the door. He hesitated for a moment, noticing the small devices sitting in Kelvin's ears.

He decided to go for it and spoke, "Can... you hear me?"

The biggest grin spread across Kelvin's face as he nodded. "Yeah."

His voice still sounded odd and unused. Not hearing your own voice for so long would probably do that, but he could relearn. Tim moved over and set down the flowers he had been carrying before gently cupping the side of his face.

"We can do this together."

Kelvin nodded and felt himself tear up, leaning into his hand.

[slytherindisaster]

HIMYM or How Andy Met Manon:

Chapter One: Hope Dies Last

This story is very unserious (until it isn't), some portrayals of canon characters might be exaggerated. Sorry not sorry. This is purely for fun.

Reid Van de Lune belongs to @kc-and-co, Mina Pendleton, who is briefly mentioned belongs to @lifeofkaze.

You can find all the chapters here.

The whole school was buzzing with excitement and rumours about the friendly visit from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools. It was announced a few days before that Hogwarts, once again, will be hosting representatives from both schools. The students were divided into the ones that couldn't wait for the visit and the ones that couldn't care less. Andy Adler represented the former, Hayden Jenkins - the latter. The breakfasts were starting to get really tough to get through with their different amounts of enthusiasm.

"You don't even know if she's going to be there." Hayden said, annoyed at his best friend.

"She is, I can feel it."

"You only saw her, like one time! She probably doesn't even remember you. You didn't even speak to her, I bet."

"Who doesn't remember him?"

Reid Van de Lune joined them, confused about what his friends were squabbling over this time.

"Some random french girl, Andy fantasies about since the last Beauxbatons visit. Three. Years. Ago."

"Her name was Manon!"

Haden brows furrowed. "How do you even know that?"

Andy's whole face melted into an adoring expression, and Hayden quickly regretted his question.

"The wind knocked off her hat in the Clock Tower Courtyard. I picked it up, and the name was embroidered on the inside."

"Don't tell me you kept the hat…"

"Of course not! I gave it back to her immediately. I looked into her eyes… Man, I wish her friends didn't start giggling and dragging her away with them."

"Woah," concluded Reid, "it's like, a scene from, like… a movie."

"Sure, if you're into psychological horror," Hayden scoffed.

Andy sighed, not giving up.

"Come on, don’t be like that! Help me out, I only need a few French lessons, and if she won't be there, it still couldn't hurt, right? Don't any of your fancy slytherin housemates know french?"

Hayden laughed almost honestly. "Maybe in the last century, they were fancy. Have you seen my roommates? Barnaby can barely handle English."

"Hayden."

"I mean, I guess Mina Pendleton, maybe?" He pointed at a blonde girl at the slytherin table, "But I'm not going to be the one talking to her."

"Why not?"

Hayden shuddered. "She intimidates me."

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE ALL OUT?!”

Virginia Scott’s angry voice carried through the Great Hall.

"Speaking of girls that are unapproachable…" Andy mumbled as their attention turned towards the end of their table.

“Exactly what I just said.” Jae Kim, the person her anger was directed at, didn't seem worried. “I’m out of all the firewhiskey, elder wine, in all honesty I don’t even have butterbeer at the moment.”

Gigi bit her tongue to avoid screaming at him again.

“And you’re only telling me this now?”

“You didn’t ask about anything specific when we talked last week. You know how fast these things sell around here.”

“I-“ she started but was immediately interrupted by the boy sitting next to her.

“So, how long would it take to execute our order?” asked Diego Caplan, pouring coffee into Gigi's cup in an attempt to calm her down.

“Depends.” he answered, looking suspiciously at the list laying on the table before him. “It’s a big order.”

Gigi sighed heavily and reached for her schoolbag in order to find her purse.

“Ever since you ripped me off on that divination chart you’ve become unbearable, Kim,” she said, handing him a couple of galleons.

Jae shrugged and shoved them into his pocket.

“I’ll talk to you soon.”

And with that he was gone.

"Dude, even since her and the hippie broke up she's been a walking nightmare."

"You mean more than usual?" Hayden chuckled. "No, you're right though, she's unbearable in normal circumstances, but this year is like if someone slipped the essence of insanity into her morning coffee."

"Duuude–" Reid almost choked on air, "what if there was like, a potion that would make you totally speak another language?"

"That would be… perfect actually!" Andy jumped up in his seat. "Is there one?"

Reid suddenly became very serious.

"Do I have an obsession with potions and a head full of blond hair?"

"No…?"

"Then how should I know, I'm not Penny Haywood."

Hayden tuned out their conversation as someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to see two girls he vaguely recognised as fifth year slytherin students. They both were awfully giddy for a Monday morning.

"Sorry, you're Hayden Jenkins, right?"

"The one and only, how can I help you?"

"Well, we just wanted to say that we can't wait to see your band play at the party this Saturday."

"My… band?"

They nodded their heads energetically, and before he could ask more questions, they sprinted out of the Great Hall giggling.

He turned back to his friends completely dumbfounded.

"Snails," Reid said as if he just discovered a new spell.

"Reid that's… I mean it won't hurt to try, we should go anyway if we want to hit the greenhouse before the lessons start."

They gathered their things and stood up.

"Mate, you coming?"

"No, go ahead, I have to take care of something first."

"Suit yourself," Andy shrugged and they were already out of the door.

Hayden also didn't stay at his spot. He had business to take care of at the end of the table. He passed Diego Caplan on his way to the evil witch, and Hayden could swear the Hufflepuff mouthed "good luck" to him.

Virginia Scott was fixing her nails, seemingly unbothered, but Hayden knew her well enough to know that she was still angry about the encounter from before. Her feelings were the least of his concerns at the moment, though.

"Hayden, this is not the best time, darling," she said before he even spoke.

"Don't worry, I just have one little question for you."

She put down the nail file and looked up at him, raising her eyebrows as if she really wanted to hear it.

“Why am I finding out from some random fifth year that not only I have a band but also that I'm going to play with it at your party?”

“Oh, I actually wanted to talk to you about this. I need you to play at my party.”

“Gigi."

“Yes Hayden?”

“I don’t have a band.”

“I’m sure you can figure something out, darling.”

Hayden sighed, immediately regretting not going to the greenhouse with his friends. He could use a smoke right now, after all.

[imkindanerdy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Welcome To The Table - Ben Brainard (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Virginia (Welcome To The Table), Kentucky (Welcome To The Table) Additional Tags: Virginia has PTSD, Virginia and Kentucky are brothers Summary:

Virginia hasn't been sleeping well lately. Kentucky worries about him. Will Kentucky be able to find out what's going on with Virginia?

[darrowsrising]

Spring Fever:

Universe: Red Rising by Pierce Brown

Characters: Darrow of Lykos, Virginia au Augustus

Genre: (explicit!) Smut, Romance, Fluff

Timeline: circa 745 PCE in spring

Location: Silene Mansion, Sovereign's personal home office, Luna

Additional tags: Porn Without Plot,Reaper's Kiss (Darrow likes to eat his wife out A LOT), Virginia is impatient and she scratches, Mustang's Bitch is also Mustang's panty ripper, heavy abuse of jamFields because Darrow is OBSSESSED with his wife's voice, open defilement of Nero's desk, Virginia drives him mad with lust too, explicit smut, possibly OOC, idk;

Disclaimer: Red Rising and all things associated belong to Pierce Brown.

Intro: Luna is in full bloom and the world shines with lust for life. His first campaign after Octavia's fall was successful, but the Reaper still needs recovery. And while the staff is terrified and people gossip about how could the Reaper even stay put for so long, Darrow finds an occupation in between his wife's legs. But patience has never been the Sovereign's virtue...

Contains: Cunnilingus, Blow Job, Vaginal Sex;

💖

Spring bleeds on Luna in the Reaper’s 25th Earth year. The season has seeped into the soil and the very soul of the people. Hope abounds, as the liberated moon blooms as though it never did that before, as though it knows it almost turned to glass and now feels life more deeply.

While hope springs eternal, trust is delicate at the best of times. The war still rages, the chains still rattle, there is more to come. The new lancers of House Augutus know this well – no one sleeps on their laurels, least of all Primus Virginia au Augustus, the Sovereign of the Solar Republic. While Senators are permitted to speak back to their liege and not get killed in this new age, everyone that is not a moron, also knows that the Primus knows better.

So no one asks why the Sovereign’s Court is entirely Martian, why Daxo au Telemanus himself trains every Lionguard and every Optimate personally or why they all dine, in batches, with the Reaper himself every once in a while. They don’t even question the discussions that happen right in front of them in the privacy of their own mind. But they know. They have eyes, they can see how and most importantly, why this is all worth it. They are building a better future, they are building trust. Mars is home, Mars is the soul of everything.

No one questions what happens in the Sovereign’s office either. Especially not the Selene Office. But even the most loyal of household members cannot help worrying at the eerie silences that vibrate through the very walls whenever the Reaper was called for a one-on-one meeting – the stern man that enters makes everyone’s hair stand on ends, but the one that exits frightens.

___________________________________________

There is a symphony of moans and mewls he is coaxing out of her, but when it echoes off the jamField, it makes his blood tremble in his veins. Everything in him hurts and aches with pleasure as her hands grip his hair and her nails score his scalp. His cheeks and chin are coated with her slick, as his tongue teases and explores her clit and his fingers reach all of the right spots within her dripping cunt. He lives for all the sounds she makes.

As he kneels at one end of the oak and iron desk right between her legs, the sight seems to drive Virginia over the edge yet again. She tries to pry his head away in vain. She cannot help screaming his name. He holds steadfast, lifts himself upright, but keeps his hand moving within her. She is trembling and tense with pleasure, her eyes shut, her mouth gasping for air, her hands still holding unto him for dear life.

He hugs her close and kisses her forehead softly, waiting for her to come down. He feels sweat trickling down his back, soaking his shirt. He discards his black doublet then grabs her wrists gently from his hair, dragging his thumbs over her pulse in circles. She moans, her breathing raspy. She lifts up her chin and looks at him with honeyed eyes. The haze of pleasure flushed her skin and made her eyes shine.

Her slacks have been discarded somewhere under the desk. Her panties in pieces on the floor.

Her long tunic, masterfully undone just like her compression bra. And now, they are both parted and pushed to the sides of her. Her baby hairs are curled towards her face. Her chest rises and falls with her softening breathing. His kisses left marks upon it, her neck as well.

She looks absolutely edible, he could feast on her forever. But she does not want that at this moment. She positively pouts at him.

“ – Take your breeches off, ArchImperator.”, her tone suggests payback, but Darrow is not quite done yet.

“ – In a moment, my love”, he smirks as he shifts her wrists into one hand and pushes her unto her back over the smooth, simple surface of the desk. He places his knee between her thighs to brace himself. He is gentle when he undresses her, guiding her arms out of the tunic and the bra and kissing her lips. She moans into his mouth in protest.

“ – Are you perhaps miffed with me for not approving your active duty leave immediately after your last one?”, her worried gaze find his lustful eyes. The words fall on him like cold water. He draws back from her and rips his own shirt off. A few strands of his hair cling to his wet neck. He moves to straddle her:

“ – I am glad that is over for now.”, he breathes on a whisper. “ I thought I will never see you again and couldn’t think of a more miserable way to die.”, he caresses her face with the very hand that failed to react on time. He grabs her right hand and places it upon his broad chest.

A few inches to the left and he would have died. But he survived, he is safe, he is home and the resSkin has healed over the scars, his recuperation will resume. What he managed last campaign should keep until he is completely ready this time.

“ - I simply have need of you.”, his heart thunders under her palm. His thumb starts to trace circles on her inner wrists. He is blushing all the way to his ears as he moves her hand to his clothed cock. A soft moan escapes him when she cups and caresses him and he closes his eyes at the sensation.

She swallows at the sight and pounces. When he opens his eyes, he first registers that her hands are not on him anymore, then the feeling of being grabbed and thrown in her desk chair via an effective kravat move. Unlike the Morning Chair, this one is comfortable, orthopedic and plush. Not that he cares much, not when she rises from the top of what used to be Nero au Augustus’ desk – simply designed in oak and iron, now decorated with lions and pegasi carvings – in her glowing, naked glory. She is a sight to behold, all grace and ease with a sole purpose in mind. Sweet, hot retribution.

His cock throbs when she leans over him, her mouth closing in on his. Her hands work off his breeches, before he gets the chance to taste her lips again. She immediately kneels and places her hand at the base and traces her tongue along the vein. He curses and pleads as she starts pumping her hand slowly. Her teasing laugh echoes off the jamField as she takes him into her mouth. She finds an easy rhythm between her mouth and her hand. The wet sounds fill their little space and echo over and over. His nails are digging into the leather of her chair and he is not even breathing. She releases him with a soft pop, gazing at him worriedly. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back as though in prayer, his naked chest is flushed, the muscles of his torso rippling as he starts to let the air out of his lungs in a controlled hiss.

Before she can even ask, he stands and takes her with him in his arms; her legs wrap around his waist as he is kissing her hard to distract her. His hands caress her arse, the length of her right leg, the sensitive underside of her left breast. He places her back on the desk, breaking the kiss and touching her forehead to his.

“ – Please…”, his voice is reverent and raspy. He places a peck on her lips, eyes beseeching her understanding.

Her response is fast and savage. Exactly what he needs. Her heels dig into the small of his back, a hand finds purchase into the hair at the back of his neck, her mouth seeks his greedily.

He penetrates her slowly. As he establishes the rhythm they both need, his hand traces a deliberate path up her back until he finds purchase in her hair and drags it to tilt her head into the right position. Her nibbles softly at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She moves her hips to meet his, traces his naked spine and she licks and sucks his earlobe into her mouth, making him groan and shudder. He flicks his thumb over her clit in response; adjacent to the movement of his hips, she comes on his cock so hard that she screams into his mouth.

Her fingernails draw blood as she drags them over his shoulder blades in bliss. His fist tightens into her hair heightening her pleasure.

He calls her name to capture her attention and tells her how he missed her, how he could not sleep without her voice in his ears, her every speech a soothing balm over his torn heart, a reminder of why he must fight. How he loves her – the most – how she feels around him - heavenly. He peppers her neck with kisses as he whispers into her pulse points, pleads for her to let go and feel him, as he tries to extend her every sensation. He starts to soothe her when she is ready.

He takes her with him carefully from the desk and sits back into the chair, still embedded within her spasming cunt. He kisses her forehead and groans out the pleasure he feels, He is sensitive to every movement she makes, even as she breathes raggedly from her high. Her palms use his shoulders as a leverage, she starts to move slowly and deliberately. She touches her forehead to his in a silent accord.

“ – Darrow, come for me…”, her plea has him engaging his core to move towards his own climax. She grabs him by the hair and he moans a yell into her mouth. His hand pushes her hip into him, as her nails dig into his pectorals. He comes into her and the sounds he makes resound around them; among all these sensations she is pleasured as well.

Her nails let go of his skin and her palm caresses his torso, slowly exploring the rise and fall of his ragged breathing through his muscles. His cheeks and ears are burning, his hair sticking to his face as he softens inside her, spent and tired. She arranges herself carefully and cuddles close to him to hear his heartbeat under her ear. As he regains his ability to speak in coherent sentences, he warms her body with caresses.

“ – Hope you cared about your father’s favourite rug less than you cared about his desk, my love,” his laugh is contagious, but she manages to hide it under a grin and a playful swat on his right pectoral.

“ – That is with the Conquerors exhibition. This one we will burn in the hearth as soon as possible, in the warmest spring day we had so far.” She kisses his lips sweetly and slowly, as if to appease the thoughts of what is to come. “We have profaned my father’s desk sufficiently without the blood of the emperor as witness”, the smell of him enveloped her – all woodsy and sepulchral – she kisses his jugular and traces a path towards his lips. “And, of course, we will continue to do so every chance we get”. His laugh eases her heart.

They will soon resume their duties. Will not take even hours. He will help her dress her for a meeting at the Citadel, where she will make a speech to all the leaders of the 14 parties, smelling like him through the entire thing. She will provide a new shirt for him from her secret stash of clothes for emergencies. He will savour the feel of his skin pulling as he moves from the wounds in his back. His body will ache sweetly all day.

He will also have time for their child. Pax will play and eat with him and he will be lulled to sleep by his father’s songs. She will come back when the last song is almost over, when their energetic toddler is fast asleep, when Darrow’s heart beats with utter joy and love. Her own heart will ache at the sight, for the love she bears Darrow and Pax and for having brought a child into these raging worlds. She knows Darrow’s heart will ache as well with all the promises he must delay.

As, he drapes her long tunic over her cooling, naked body and kisses her forehead, hugging her close to his chest, she thinks for a moment at their mutual decision for long-term contraceptives. Ironically enough they were at rogue war with the Society when they discussed and applied this. With the Republic established, the need for it seemed even more imperative, so they decided to keep it.

He caresses her face and moves her head to look into her eyes.

“ – I’ve missed you too.”, she smiles. She still has him for a little while longer. She will enjoy what she has, for it is enough. It is a world of their making, the only one they can love one another. The only one their child can exist.

“ – Did you rip my panties again, ArchImperator?”, her accusatory tone, her raised eyebrow, her jabbing forefinger bearing her father’s ring – he cannot help, but burst out laughing. She didn't seem to mind it the moment he did it, not one bit.

Later, changed into the new shirt, he glares at everyone in his path as he makes his way back to the Sovereign’s office from their stateroom. Under closed doors, he tries not to be smug about ripping through her emergency stash of underwear, but as she throws the scraps into burning desk rug with an annoyed expression, a chuckle escapes. She is only wearing her long tunic, her slacks laid on her desk.

“ – Anything to say for yourself, ArchImperator”, she is not amused one bit; her hand reaches out for the new pairs he is now retrieving from the breast pocket of his doublet, as a peace offering.

“ – Nothing, my liege, absolutely nothing.” She picks one that matches her compression bra and drags it up her legs and puts on her slack as well, glaring at him, not trusting him one bit to simply help her dress.

“ – Keep it up like this and the Sovereign's lingerie will come out of your pocket.”, she pouts a bit, but then concludes it will be a good idea. He is all for it as well, as he presses a soft kiss on her cheek.

The windows open, a stream of flowery air fills the room. Spring indeed bleeds over Luna.

[darlingshane]

> DRABBLES & ONE-SHOTS – Are you lonely? – Candy & Popcorn – Close your eyes, sweetheart (GN!Reader) – The Sweetest Distraction * – All I Ever Wanted * – Morning Dew * – Red Roses, Wild Horses * – The sins that come out of your mouth * – Room For You * – Better Than Indica (GN!Reader) *

* = Explicit – No use of y/n. No physical descriptions. – F!Reader unless stated otherwise. – Check out my main masterlist for other characters.

[sentient-catctus]

Tim immediately tries to find better clothes for Virginia after seeing her soaking wet and shivering from the constant rainfall and also hoodie for Kelvin along the way (he wants him to feel included) Tim got Virginia the camouflage clothes.

Sometimes Tim and Kelvin also swap the hoodie with each other depending who's sleeping and who's having guard duty at night with Virginia if she's not exhausted or elsewhere. Every comfort they can have is worth sharing with each other.

[girderednerve]

reading/listening to a book again, this time it's 'blood runs coal'

yes that's the book that they are supposedly going to adapt to star cillian murphy. it's about the murder of jock yablonski & his family. if you are unfamiliar, jock yablonski ran as a reform candidate in the UMWA in 1969, and was murdered along with his wife & daughter as the result of a conspiracy by the UMWA president, tony boyle. yablonski ran on a platform of union democracy & transparency, improved workplace safety (especially regarding black lung), increased pension benefits, & a more adversarial relationship with coal operators. the UMWA at this point was deeply, aggressively corrupt & its leadership often employed violence. in the early twentieth century, under the charismatic & tyrannical leadership of john l. lewis, UMWA was one of the most active & successful labor unions in the country, & it was one of the first to integrate. by the middle of the century, it had settled into a collaborative relationship with mine owners. blood runs coal opens with, of course, a detailed & horrifying description of the 1968 farmington mine disaster, in which 78 miners died on the job in a horrific underground explosion. boyle showed up to say it was unavoidable & to commend the company's safety record; need it be said, the disaster was not unavoidable & the company did not, in fact, have a commendable safety record, &, moreover, he made the speech to widows with 78 members of his union in pieces or suffocated to death on the job. farmington kicked off a huge pivot in labor organizing in appalachia, & was one of the catalysts of the black lung insurgency. which matters deeply, on its own & in connection with jock yablonski's legacy—arnold miller, the reform candidate who took the presidency in 1972 after the corrupt election jock yablonski lost & was murdered for, was one of the leaders of the black lung movement & a black lung sufferer himself.

anyway so far it's a pretty good book! i don't really care for true crime as a rule (ghoulish) & i am taking this book more as microhistory; it's still a little interested in crime details for me, &, surprise, i don't think it spends enough time talking about black lung. i'm only halfway through though & so far it has focused fairly tightly on its major characters (tony boyle, jock yablonski, yablonski's murderers), & i suspect the back half will spend more time on the broader labor context. this is not the order i would have gone in, but then i don't care about selling books to true crime enjoyers i care about black lung & labor history, & the broader context of labor organizing has not really been present in this book. i have been thinking a lot about what an active, engaged union can do & to some degree what it can't, which is interesting.

interested in your thoughts if you have read this book, or please feel free to recommend me a labor history book!!

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story Chapter 4

Gif by: @celebritiesandmovies

A/N- I’m so sorry for the late update! I’ve had some issues with my health recently that have led to some related issues in school; but, I’ve been feeling a lot better and tried to edit this up quickly.

It’s not my best work, but I had no idea what to do with this chapter, please forgive the nonsense.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.2k

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The thought that Scott would leave never so much as crossed my mind. How could it? Jean and Scott had been dating since the seventh grade.

I must have reread his email half a million times, each time hung on the words “I’m leaving the mansion too.”

I was pulled from my shock as I heard the door shut behind me. I put my phone away, internally prepared myself for the interview questions, and turned around, standing from the chair. I began to talk before I saw the figure, “Hello, again Ms. Potts. That was quite the situation-” I stopped. I had expected to see Ms. Potts. Instead, there stood Tony, who seemed equally shocked to see me there.

“Why hasn’t Pep sent you out yet?” He moved from the door to the desk, “The last person to make it this long had a mental breakdown a week later.” He passed my side, slipping onto her desk. He kicked his legs slightly before he appeared to remember I was still present.

“Regardless, where is Pepper? She usually never leaves interviewees unattended,” He leans back, bracing himself on one of his arms as he reaches to the top of the shortest stack with the other quickly lifting the top sheet and, while scanning it, says, “and most certainly never leaves them around confidential company information.”

“Technically, the interview hasn’t begun.” An uncomfortable pause fell in the room as he waited for me to elaborate, “Her regular assistant is on maternity leave. Her fill-in accidentally double-booked her- she’s in a meeting right now.”

He let his head fall back dramatically as he scoffed, “Shame, I had wanted to tell her something in private. Do you know who’s all in there with her?” A cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“No? Why, Tony?”

He slipped off the desk, similarly to when he hopped up, “Oh, nothing. Just have a bit of information to share with the class.” he was almost halfway across the room when he turned back to me. His smirk was now a shit-eating grin.

“Wait,” I ran to the man, grabbing his wrist, his expression turning amused, “if the information is so important, would it not be better to share it with her privately as you originally intended.”

I suppose I had a stern expression as I said that as Tony burst out laughing, “What am I? A schoolboy scolded by his teacher?”

“Not far off on the teacher part.” He stopped for a moment before a small smile came across his face.

“Really now? When was that?” He leaned against the table again, his interest shifting to the current topic more and more.

“It was my last job. I taught at a private academy outside Salem for almost three years.”

“Interesting. And what provoked the sudden career change?”

“I don’t believe I owe you that information, Mr. Stark, unless it pertains to a crime.”

A silence passed as he tilted his head one way and then the other. “Fair point. It doesn’t apply to California's laws, but sure, plead the fifth. I won’t judge you.”

“Oh no,” I said sarcastically, “how could I ever go on with the great Tony Stark judging me!”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” He moved his hands in an almost childish manner. Playing to exaggerate his point, “You don’t seem like the type to leave such a luxurious position for any old reason. And given that you didn’t have a job lined up, you left quickly. Why is that?”

“... My long-term partner and fellow teacher at the institution cheated on me with our co-worker.”

I looked up, his face seeming to wander between holding back a chuckle and ‘Oh shit’.

After quickly stiffening his laugh, a voice rang out behind, “Well, that’s quite the loss on their end.” Ms. Potts said from her place, leaning on the doorframe. Noticing her, I stood up, “You were a great help today, and from the small glimpse I’ve seen with you and Tony, well, I think he’ll be in good hands.” 

By the time she finished her sentence, she was standing in front of myself and Tony. He still placed his weight on the desk but now he stood with his back straightened. I couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle, watching how much his demeanor changed when trying to maintain a good image around her.

“Please, Ms.Potts-“

“-Call me, Pepper. Please.”

“Alright… Pepper. Thank you, but you’re too kind. I just did what I could to help. That’s nothing to be hired over.”

I watched as she placed a hand on her hip, looked at Tony, then looked back at me.

“Hun, I mean this in the nicest way I can,” she says as she placed her hand on my shoulder lightly pushing me to sit, “do you want this fucking job?”

"Yes?"

“Great! You’re hired. Tony is scheduled to attend an event in Milan later this week so, I’d recommend you get ready for it. You’ll be at the convention for four days, not including travel days, please keep that in mind while packing. Now, if you don’t mind,” she moved her arm in front of her covered desk, “I have a few rather large stacks of paperwork to get to. Tony will show you to your office, once you’re done you’re free to leave,” she moved around the desk to type something on the computer, “I’ll have the receptionist send the order out for your ID badge, we’ll most likely have it tomorrow, otherwise it will be the day after that.” She moved up to Tony and me pushing him off her desk and casually shooing us to the door, “Congrats on the new secretary, Tony, don’t fuck it up. And to you, good luck.”

And just like that, I was standing outside of Ms. Potts' office with Mr. Stark. He led me over to his office, the room was rather cluttered but, inside and to the left there was a door. He looked over his shoulder, I guess to check to see if I was still there. He then opened the door, which, led to the secretary’s office.

“There’s another door leading in from the hall, so, please, don’t feel required to come through this room every morning. If you have any other questions, you have my number. Otherwise, I have better things to do.”

“I’m good Mr. Stark.”

“Mr. Stark was my father, call me Tony.”

“Okay then, Tony.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you then.” He gave a slight wave and walked out into his office. The sound of his door closing let me know he was either leaving or heading back to Pepper’s. 

I took another look around the room, it was well-furnished and fairly clean. There was nothing I could see that needed repair either. I wouldn't need to bring anything in.

We boarded the plane about sixteen hours ago and finally reached our destination. We were about five minutes from landing. I got up to wake up Tony, who had been asleep for the past four hours.

I walked over to his chair, slightly nudging his shoulder, “Mr. Stark, wake up. We’re about to land.”

“Fuck you”

“Apologies, sir.” I sat across from him and buckled my seatbelt.

After I had finished the pilot sent the message over the intercom. Tony begrudgingly followed the instructions. The landing was a bit bumpy, but far from the worst I’d felt.

Once we were given the all-clear to start unboarding we started walking down the airplane's staircase. I started walking towards the car that was waiting when I heard a loud bang. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang out. I turned around and saw Tony writhing on the ground.

[twosides--samecoin]

Nature, mountains, hiking, travel and Harper's Ferry were always part of my fic. In my story, RJ and Lucy made it to Boston by walking a day to this little town from Little Lamplight. This was their access point to the Appalachian Trail; they section hiked to the NY-MA border at the Berkshires and crossed Massachusetts to reach the ocean.

I sent him there, now I'm catching up with him with my first visit to the Mid Atlantic states :) Thank you @edaworks for making some dreams come true!

[murderedcrow]

A new fanfic in the making? Oh, yes. I noticed a lack of those, so here is my first attempt at fixing that.

Title: Carnal Devotion

Status: Draft

Pairing: sotf cannibal x oc, kelvin x virginia

Warnings: canon gore, canon violence, cannibalism, kidnapping, tbc

Author note: More info follows when I got a proper chapter done for ao3.

Except from Draft:

The next he got was some rope. He wasn’t going to expect the cannibal to be friendly upon waking, he wasn’t that naive. So he made sure to tie the man up properly. Legs and hands bound behind his back, so he would do them no harm.

Looking at him now, the paint smudged and the feral snarl absent on his face, he almost looked civilised. He almost looked approachable even. Perhaps it truly was the right thing to do. Taking him with him.

However, the moment he got back on his feet and met Kelvin’s worried gaze, his certainty quickly wavered.

Kelvin pointed at the sleeping cannibal now in the middle of their camp with wide eyes, as if to say, what the heck are you thinking!

Aiden took out his notepad and quickly scribbled an answer on it.

‘He is alone. Couldn’t leave him there injured.’

Kelvin’s eyebrows just shot upwards, as he again pointed at the cannibal, but this time more agitated. Just as Aiden was about to scribble an answer Kelvin snapped the notebook from Aiden’s hand to scribble something down on it with quick and angry movements.

He shoved it into Aiden’s face and he deciphered the capital letters with ease:

‘CANNIBAL’

“I know.” Aiden rubbed the back of his head, certain Kelvin understood his words even without hearing them. “I am aware of that, alright. It’s just-”

Kelvin shoved the piece of paper closer into his face, as if to highlight his point once more.

‘CANNIBAL’

[freshwolfhell]

Chapter two, massive changes and meeting the future named Keybrood. Cause... keystone state.