#hes FORTY SOMETHING FFS

[davidisnotmyname]

btw every time you headcanon Medic as being in his thirties an angel loses its wings

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Candyland

Rockstar! (ish) Eddie Munson x AFAB! Bar Dancer Reader

Cherry Pie is always the inspiration for some absolute filth. Reader works at a Coyote Ugly type bar - you'll find out, it's hard for me to describe this one. Because I suck.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, suggestive content with the dancing?

The R-Bar, Chicago - 1991

Eddie is sweating his nutsack off, fingers red raw from shredding for almost two hours, voice sore and crackling. The mediocre applause that follows him off the small stage with the rest of the band hardly seems worth the pain. He snags a water bottle from a beat up trestle table, chugging it in relief as their manager Lambshank approaches; so named because he got shanked in prison with a lamb bone, true story.

“That was a killer set guys, great work, the crowd loved you!” He hails with so much bravado it verges on sarcasm. 

“Yeah, all fourteen of them.” Eddie deadpans.

“I counted seventeen.” Jeff wryly supplies with a rough croak, finishing off his own bottle of water.

“Alright, it wasn’t the biggest crowd, granted, but everyone has to start somewhere.” Lambshank reasons.

“Yeah, but we started this group eleven years ago, Shank.” Eddie huffs, he knew the rockstar dream wouldn’t be an easy one to achieve but he thought after graduating and being able to pour all his time and what little money he had into the band they’d be playing bigger and better venues by now.

He was fed up, every place was like The Hideout back home, filled with drunks, and sticky floors.  They did have a couple of genuine fans, who they appreciated even if they were slightly over-zealous in their affections; Gareth had never quite been the same since Luann, the forty-seven year old divorcee, threw her FF bra directly at his face mid-show.

“You fellas need a fun night out, get yourselves pumped up again and I know just the place.” Lambshank says bracingly, working his fists back and forth like a Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robot. Eddie scrubs at his tired sweaty face, pushing his hair out of his eyes, wanting nothing more than to shower and go to bed, god he was getting old. 

“Shank I don’t need a night out, I need to get some sleep.”

“Eddie, I promise you, you’ll enjoy it - and the first round of drinks are on me.” Shank offers teasingly.

_______________________________________________

“Candyland?” Gareth asks, reading the pink neon sign aloud as they all stand outside a rather nondescript looking building, the loud heavy bass thumping of music the only indicator there might be something going on inside.

“Candyland.” Lambshank affirms with a grin, gesturing towards the heavy door in front of them, a burly and surly looking doorman giving Lambshank a curt nod letting the group in.

It’s a cacophony of noise, and flashing lights, the place is packed to the rafters, the smell of stale beer and sweat heavy in the air. But it’s the movement from the bar area that catches Eddie’s eye, a group of women all around his age in various states of undress, dancing and grinding along to No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys, they also appear to be serving drinks.

“Welcome to Candyland boys!” Lambshank laughs, patting Eddie heavily on the back.

It’s certainly a show, the girls are laughing and screaming things out, men and women on the floor crowded up to the raised surface cheering loudly, throwing money, and generally having the time of their lives. 

The song finishes up, and the bar girls all jump down to be replaced by an older looking blonde woman with a microphone in her hand.

“Candyland, how are we doing tonight?!” She yells, to a deafening cheer. “C’mon I know you can do better than that, I said HOW ARE WE DOING TONIGHT?” She corrals with a fist to the air.

The bar shouts back in unison, even Eddie finds himself wanting to join in.

“That’s what I like to hear.” She laughs throatily. “Now I want you to give it up, and by that I mean your hard earned dollars, for our girl JETT!”

I Love Rock ‘N Roll - Joan Jett starts up, along with a raucous cheer from the crowd as girl jumps up onto the bar in black PVC booty shorts, a ripped white crop top, black bra visible underneath and black high-top converse, her back is to everyone as she claps her hands and stamps along to the beat, Eddie tears his eyes away trying to work out the best route to the bar in order to actually get a drink when Gareth starts tugging hard on his arm.

“Jeez man what?” Eddie huffs in irritation, Gareth points dumbly back towards the bar, mouth hanging open, Eddie looks again and feels his own jaw drop.

“Holy shit it’s -” Jeff breathes, the girl is finally facing the crowd, throwing her body back and forth, a huge smile plastered across her pretty face. 

“Y/n -” Eddie finishes his sentence with a gulp.

Eddie hadn’t seen you since graduation, but it was definitely you, despite your get up and apparent new found sense of confidence there was no mistaking your face. You had been something of a shrinking violet at High School, choosing to hang out with Eddie and the gang as they didn’t mind that you were painfully shy and preferred books to conversation, and whilst you had never been a fully fledged member of Hellfire you sometimes took part in the occasional campaign if they were short and Eddie coaxed you enough.

  It didn’t seem you needed to be coaxed into doing anything anymore though as you gyrated on the platform, hooking your leg and arm around a pole between the bar top and ceiling, spinning about seductively. You headbang slightly, before dropping low to grab a handful of dollars from a howling man, one of the girls behind the bar passes you up a bottle of vodka and you expertly pour a shot into the man’s open mouth. As the song fades out, some of the other girls jump back up to join you, the vodka bottle in your hand being swapped for the microphone.

“Good evening Candyland.” You purr slightly out of breath, laughing loudly at the tumultuous response. “Life is sweet, but you know what? It could be a little sweeter, so how about we pour a little sugar on you?” You ask suggestively, throwing your arms up as Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard rings out.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look, well he knows exactly where he wants to look but he doesn’t know if he should. You’re back to back with one of the other girls, both winding down to your knees, you crawl across the bar and Eddie finds himself standing tiptoes to follow your progress. You lay on your back, arching upwards, so your chest is on display, while a redhead girl in Daisy dukes wets your body with the seltzer tap. You screech wildly, shaking your head allowing the liquid to splash the front row, Eddie thinks he might pass out as the blood thunders down from his brain to his cock.

You move back up into a kneel, taking the tap and spraying it into the raucous crowd, whilst necking a beer you’ve taken off of someone. You and the rest of the girls line up, all bending sideways so you’re grabbing the ass of the other, spanking in time to the music, before shaking your legs so the muscles bounce and jiggle.

“This is insane.” Gareth says weakly next to Eddie, and he has to agree. You straighten up, spinning around the pole once again until you’re head on staring at Eddie and the group, a wide beaming smile of recognition breaking across your face. You seem to be dancing with even more enthusiasm now you’ve clocked your old school friends, hands running over your own form, as you strut up and down the platform. The redhead from before has a bottle of whiskey in her hand which she pours on her chest with a subtle nod to you, you lean in and lick the gold liquid from her skin, to rapturous hoots and hollers, tracing your tongue up her neck until you meet her mouth; Eddie notices more dollar bills clutched in your hands as you pull away.

The song comes to an end, and you instantly jump down into the crowd, pushing patrons out of your way, practically racing towards the band.

“OH MY GOD, HI!” You shout excitedly, barrelling straight into Eddie first, he barely has time to snap out of his funk and embrace you back before you're pulling away to address the others. You’re flushed with exertion, but to him you’ve never looked prettier.

“Gareth, Jeff!” You hail, bringing each of them in for their own hug, Eddie having to fight down a sudden surge of jealousy.

“Y/n! What the hell man?!” Gareth greets you with a laugh, gesturing to the hive of activity still taking place on the bar behind you.

“Girl’s gotta make a living, ya know.” You tease, punching him lightly in the arm. “It’s my Aunt’s place, she’s the blonde one up there.” You point to the older woman who revved up the crowd earlier, she’s currently pouring a row of shots, but all the while keeping an eye on her girls, including you.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask casually, like you’re not standing in front of them scantily clad, and the source of their awkward crotch covered stances. 

“We’re on tour.” Jeff supplies.

“Holy shit - that’s so cool, where are you playing?” Eddie wants to answer you, but your devastating smile is making his brain short circuit.

“They played the R-Bar tonight. Lambshank, manager extraordinaire and long time patron of Candyland.” Lambshank butts in, offering his hand in greeting, you shake it and Eddie sees a slight wariness enter your expression.

“The R-Bar huh? I’d thought with how good you guys were in High School, you’d be playing bigger venues than that.” You don't say it maliciously, you seem genuinely concerned, and it sparks Eddie's brain and mouth back to life. 

“We’ve been trying to but it’s not been going so well.” Eddie says quietly, and you nod in understanding.

“Where are you guys playing next?” You ask with interest.

“We’re at the R-Bar again tomorrow night.” Gareth says, unable to keep the dismay out of his voice. 

“Ok, cool, leave it with me. Drinks on the house by the way, just go see my aunt. Catch up properly at close?” You ask quickly, already backing up towards the bar, slipping under the gap and whispering in your aunt's ear as you service the clamouring groups. 

  Eddie's gaze is firmly fixed on your retreating form, he always had a soft spot for you through school, ok maybe crush was more accurate, although he'd play it off as a brotherly protective vibe when people had asked but what he was feeling now was far from brotherly.

"I'll get us some beers." He says not caring if the others are listening, purposely ignoring Lambshank's request for a double JD, as he makes his way through the thronging horde, with a little elbowing he eventually gets to the front.

“What can I get you handsome?” Your aunt asks him, leaning across the bar. 

“Uh - four Coors Dry please.” He responds absentmindedly watching the way you’re shaking a drink at the other end of the bar, clearly flirting with every customer and doing a damn good judging by your overflowing tip jar.

“Would you prefer for my niece to serve you?” Your aunt says with a wry smile.

“Oh - uh - no sorry, just haven't seen her in a while.” Eddie stammers, slipping across a $20 bill.

“You’re Eddie right?” He nods, she smiles and it’s not too dissimilar to your own. “I'm Paula. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. She never used to shut up about you when she was a teenager, Eddie this, Eddie that.” She laughs, pouring the beers.

“She liked me?” Eddie asks in shock, the thought makes his head spin.

“I don’t think you need to put it in the past tense hunny.” Paula grins, sliding his $20 back across the bar. “You break her heart, I’ll get Doug the Doorman to break your fingers.”

Before Eddie can respond, your voice cuts across the noise once more, you’re up on the bar again, microphone in hand. 

“Alright Candylanders, it’s come to our attention that we have some very, very special guests here with us tonight -” The seductive lilt in your tone is back, commanding the attention of everyone in the room, but none more so than Eddie. “- all the way from my hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, they are the next generation of rockstars, the one, the only CORRODED COFFIN!” You bellow pointing towards where Gareth, Jeff and Lambshank are still standing. 

“They’re the real deal, and they’re playing at the R-Bar tomorrow, I know - I know it's a fucking shithole." You argue back to the murmured complaints. "But here's the deal, you all go and I will reveal my very secret, very intimate tattoo at the end of their show -” You teasingly pull at the waistline of your booty shorts, before stroking your hand down over your covered mound, the crowd going wild. “- Alright you bunch of horn dogs, save it for tomorrow, now let’s get this fucking party started!” You scream, throwing the microphone down to Paula, who gives you a huge wink.

Cherry Pie - Warrant blares out of the speakers, the girls clambering up to join you once more, pitchers of water in their hands.

“ANYONE ELSE FEELING WET?” Paula shouts into the mic, as you and the rest of the girls pour the pitchers over yourselves, Eddie watches completely enthralled as the water cascades over your chest and down your legs, barely noticing how Gareth and Jeff have joined him.

You stomp over towards them, a huge smile on your face again, dropping into an impressive front split, water droplets glistening over your flushed skin.

“Hey Eddie, you want a blowjob?” You ask loudly over the music.

“Do I want a what?!” Eddie asks incredulously, half laughing, half choking on his beer. 

You jump down, grabbing a shot glass, and two bottles of liquor, topping it off with some whipped cream.

“A blow job.” You present to him with a devious smirk.

Eddie throws his head back in a proper laugh, the kind of laugh you used to savour hearing through school, he moves to take the shot but you slap his hand anyway.

“Oh that’s not for you big boy, it’s for me. You need to sit right here.” You say patting the bar top, Eddie looks at you warily but hoists himself up regardless with a smile, you wink and then move to the other end of the bar, whispering something to Paula as you pass.

“Ohhhhh! Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Jett is about to give some lucky guy a blowjob!” Paula shouts through the mic, stopping mid pour to ring a bell, Eddie’s ears hurt from the wolf whistles and stamping of feet.

Two girls, the redhead and a brunette, help get him in the correct position, legs spread with the shot in between, you get lifted onto the bar by Doug blowing a kiss to him and the gathered crowd. Sinking to your knees you stalk towards him in a slow crawl, he would never be able to listen to Smooth up in ya in the same way ever again. When you reach him, you lean in close to his ear so only he can hear you, his arm automatically coming up to steady you as you hover.

“When I touch your knee, put your hand on the back of my head, and when I touch it again let go.”

You move back, grinning from ear to ear, running your hands over his chest, down and down, fingers brushing his thighs, until you reach his knees; Eddie lifts a shaking a hand to run through your hair at the crown of your head, you wink again before arching low, ass in the air, he can see your lips wrap around the glass; he knows you must notice his raging hard on. 

“SHOT, SHOT, SHOT!” The bar screams and Eddie suddenly remembers there are a hundred people watching your antics. Once you have the drink secure, you run your hands back up his legs, tapping his knee once, he lets his hand drop from your head albeit reluctantly. You throw your whole body back, chest jutting out, swallowing the shot to ear splitting cheers and clapping, letting a carefully choreographed bit of liquid spill from the side of your mouth, using your thumb to seductively chase it back to your mouth with a firm suck.

You press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, before standing abruptly, taking a bow.

“Can I get one of those? Please?” Gareth asks, voice strained.

_______________________________________________

  The rest of the night passes in a blur of girls dancing, pounding music and alcohol but Eddie only has eyes for you. Even when Gareth gets his ‘blowjob’ from the redhead, Cherry, you’re still his focus, the way you move, how openly you laugh with the girls sharing private jokes, the way you handle yourself; fearless and so sexy. 

The bar finally closes at 2am, it’s oddly quiet now the sound system is off, only the chink of glasses being collected and general chit-shit fills the air. Lambshank is chewing Paula’s ear off about management opportunities, which she seems to be responding to with good humour. Gareth is following Cherry about like a lost puppy, helping her with clearing tables, and Jeff is asleep in one of the booths, a cocktail umbrella tucked behind his ear. 

You’re wiping down the bar top, a shy smile on your face, the one Eddie remembered from school, it seems the shrinking violet is still there once the music is off.

“So Eddie Munson the rockstar huh?” You say, voice a little croaky from a night of shouting and singing.

“I wouldn’t say rockstar.” Eddie murmurs, sipping at his drink.

“Is the band your only job?” You ask pointedly, spraying at a stubborn sticky spot.

“Yeah.” Eddie says, rubbing at his neck feeling self conscious.

“Well then, you’re a rockstar.” You grin softly.

“Alright ladies, you can all head home, Mr Shank here is going to help me finish up.” Paula calls, meeting your raised eyebrows with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders.

Eddie watches as Gareth attempts to rouse Jeff from his deep drunken stupor, wondering if he can manage to get him back to the hotel by himself, not quite ready to leave your side, evidently you are thinking along the same lines as you place a delicate hand on his arm.

“Shall we help get the guys back to your hotel?” You suggest gently, trying not to laugh as Jeff sinks lower into the seat trying to pull Gareth in for a spooning.

“You want to come back with me?” Eddie asks, surprised, not believing his luck.

“Yes, if that’s ok.” You say blushing profusely. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add quickly feeling unsure of yourself.

“No! - I uh, I mean I would love for you to come back with me.” Eddie stammers, his face burning likely matching the same reddened shade as your own.

“Ok, just lemme go get changed.” You smile breathlessly.

The hotel isn’t far from the bar, and the thirty minute walk allows you and Eddie to catch up some more, sharing lingering looks and touches where you can, in between half carrying, half dragging Jeff. Gareth being absolutely no help, floating along behind slowly, waxing lyrical about how he is in love with Cherry.

“Should I tell him she’s a lesbian?” You whisper to Eddie, stifling a giggle.

“Let him have his moment whilst he’s still hammered.” Eddie laughs. “I’ll break it to him in the morning, assuming he remembers.”

Your head is swimming with all kinds of Eddie related thoughts as you try your best to concentrate on the task at hand, helping Gareth into bed, he passes out as soon as his face hits the mattress in the double room. Eddie situates a now entirely unconscious Jeff with some difficulty, before making sure they both have glasses of water and Tylenol on the bedside table ready for their no doubt horrendous hangovers.

You’re bubbling with nerves as he closes the door, but they abruptly disappear when he takes your hand, leading you down the corridor to his own room. It's small and basic but at least it’s clean. 

“So - uh do you want a drink?” Eddie asks, rooting about in a plastic bag on the side. “I have slightly warm Coke or slightly warm Mountain Dew.” 

“Such variety! I’ll take a slightly warm Mountain Dew please.” You laugh, perching on the end of his bed, rubbing your hands over your leggings.

“For Madame.” He passes you a can with a silly little French accent, sitting next to you with a can of Coke. “Gotta say it was one hell of a show you put on tonight sweetheart.” 

You’re blushing again, shaking your head in embarrassed disagreement.

“It’s nothing special, just silly little dances and tricks, but it pays the bills, and it helps Paula out.” You say dismissively.

“I think it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Eddie mutters, his leg jiggling with nerves or pent up energy, you couldn’t tell.

“C’mon Eddie, it wasn’t that good.” You mumble, thinking if your cheeks got any warmer the sprinkler system would go off.

“When you did that thing with the shot, I nearly came in my pants.” He says honestly, laughing at his own admission, it sparks something within you, the same feeling of fearlessness you experience when you’re up on the bar. You stand up, taking his drink from his hand and placing it on the windowsill with yours, kicking off your shoes and pulling down your leggings so you’re left in your panties and pink Candyland sweater.

“It would be a waste if you came in your pants Eddie, when my mouth is right here.” You whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him, praying you hadn’t misread the signals.

Eddie doesn’t give you long to worry, grabbing your face in his hands, leaning down to kiss you hard, tongue stroking into your mouth making you moan softly.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie murmurs against your lips as you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down. His cock slaps against his belly, long and hard, making your mouth water, you wrap your lips around him eagerly, tongue flat against the shaft as you bob up and down.

“Oh - f-fuck.” Eddie groans, hands back in your hair just like at the bar, gently guiding your movements. The room is filled with the sounds of your choking and sucking, the wet slide of your mouth over his throbbing dick, and Eddie’s whimpering gasps.

“Yes! Oh baby, your mouth feels - shit - so fucking good. Used to dream about you - fuck - used to dream about you doing t-this.” He moans, hips pistoning up to meet your open throat as you move quicker. “Can I - ah! Can I fuck you? Please sweetheart?” He begs, and it sends a surge or arousal through you.

You pull off him with a broken gasp, lips swollen and wet.

“Yes please.” You say sweetly, slightly out of breath.

Eddie’s hands are everywhere as he hauls you up from the floor, peeling your panties down, fingers tracing through your wetness whilst he kisses you deeply again.

“Condom - where the fuck did I put the fucking condoms?!” He hisses, stretching back down to retrieve his pants, you laugh peppering his neck with licks and nips.

You’re practically dripping, hovering over his cock, waiting with baited breath as he rolls the condom on, angling the hard tip to your slick opening. Both of you letting out loud moans as you sink down inch by inch, walls hugging him tightly, spasming with the stretch.

“Eddie - oh my god!” You whimper, nails biting into his shoulder, rocking against each other, his balls hitting your ass.

“Yesss, you feel like fucking heaven.” Eddie growls, using his strength to hammer up into you, both knowing the other wasn’t going to last long, the entire evening serving as foreplay. You bring your fingers down to rub roughly at your clit, whining into his mouth through messy kisses, each thrust of his cock bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Eddie, babe, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, pussy tightening almost to the point of pain, vision going blurry as you climax hard.

“Oh god - baby! Fuck -” Eddie chokes out, arms holding you in a bruising grasp, head against your neck as he jerks his hips at a brutal pace, hurtling into his own release with a loud cry.

Eddie continues to pump gently into you, drawing out your orgasms, lazy kisses, and stroking touches bringing you back down.

“Goddamn, why didn’t we do this years ago?” He asks breathlessly, as you laugh with exhilaration, he lays back on the bed pulling you with him, thundering heartbeats steadily slowing.

“Y/n?” Eddie asks quietly after a time, fingers stroking up and down your thighs.

“Mmm?” You murmur sleepily.

“I know I was a little distracted back there, but - uh - I didn’t see any kind of tattoo.”

You laugh again, pushing off the bed, rummaging through your bag, throwing a small packet at Eddie.

“Candy cigarettes?” He queries in confusion.

“Yep, with a free Batman rub-on tattoo.” You grin, jumping back onto the bed straddling him once more, shoving one of the candy sticks into your mouth.

“Those are a filthy habit, sweetheart.” Eddie teases grinning widely up at you.

 “Care to do the honours?” You smirk devilishly, waving the temporary tattoo at him.

_______________________________________________

[rainroses45]

HELLO!!! its me🌝 could you write a ff on miguel o’hara where reader gets hurt during a mission and doesn’t report in and miguel just goes crazy cause even though they’re not dating he still cares? LOTS AND LOTS OF ANGST POR FAVOR🫶

All I wanted was you

description: You don’t report back after a mission, and it’s sparking something deep inside Miguel (Miguel O’hara c fem. reader)

a/n: OMG THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST THANK YOU SO MUCH i hope you enjoy this as much as i have enjoyed writing it 🩷 (NOT EDITED)

song inspiration: All I wanted was you by Paramore

Warnings: LOTS AND LOTS ANGST, mentions of blood and injuries

The beating of his heart transformed into a horror of ticking sounds. The faster it went the more anxious thoughts he got. Why haven’t you reported back yet?

It was suppose to be a simple mission. He wouldn’t have sent you alone if it wasn’t. He wouldn’t have even sent you out at all.

“Maybe you should take some deep breaths and page her again?” Lyla recommended, once again appearing on Miguel’s shoulder for the forty time this hour.

“I’ve tried that already,” he sighed, “it just cuts to static.”

“Are you sure you are doing it right?” Lyla peered over to see, only to shunned off by a furious Miguel.

“You think I don’t know how to work THE FUCKING WATCH?!?” He yelled out as he threw the device across the room, not bothering if or if it didn’t shattered into millions of pieces.

“Not when you’re blinded by your emotions, isn’t that why you made me in the first place you furry face troglodyte?!” She contradicted him, “to help you when you are in this kind of state.”

Miguel rolled his eyes groaning at the AI, not bothering to respond back. He continued his intense search for you, looking at all of your locations last notified in before the signal went out.

————————

You laid back against the wall clutching your stomach as you took deep breathes. Even as you applied pressure to the wound, heavy amounts of red covered your hands and suit leaving you bare to the crisp air.

The mission was suppose to be easy, a simple get in and get out type of formation. You hadn’t realized something was wrong when entering the danger zone, and that was the first warning sign. Your spidy senses were blocked out in this universe, leaving you too vulnerable to serval attacks.

“No! No! No!” You whispered yelled as the sound of innocent civilians screams echoing through the alleyway. You tried to push yourself off the wall, balancing the weight of your body on your wobbly feet.

“Y/n- Y/n are- Y/n are you- are you there?!” A muffled voice asked - you knew it was his, and you so desperately wanted to answer back with a screaming “YES” but it was no use. If you answered now you would lead more danger onto the others. You had to do this by yourself.

You shot a web on your wound, using it as a makeshift band-aid before grabbing a rock and smashing the watch into pieces.

“Sorry Miguel, but I can’t afford another loss.”

——————-

“PINCHE BASURA DE MIERDA!” The keyboard was crushed under his firm grasp. The little letter keys scattered to the floor as Miguel’s knuckles turned white. You had destroyed it.

He was so close - so close to finding your location and you crushed it like a piece of glass.

“Lyla,” he grunted out as he retracted his claws from the destroyed technology. The clock taunting him back with a flick of the hand.

“Lyla!” He bellowed seeing as the AI didn’t appear to his answers. “Lyla I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING GOOD IF YOU DON’T SHOW UP I WILL DISCONNECT YOU!” He let out a shaky breath. The situation reminded him too much of Gabriella, and he just couldn’t let it go down like that again. He just couldn’t.

“What do you want?” She appeared on his shoulder, face turned away from his trembling gaze.

“I need you to call for back up.” His mask already covered his face, yet she could still see the way his eyes turned bloody under the pressure of you not reporting back.

He never admitted out loud that he loved you. He didn’t need to. Everywhere you went, he followed behind you like a lost puppy. Every thing you wanted, he made sure to give it to you in a matter of seconds. It was the love sick stares when you weren’t watching that attracted the attention of other’s curiosity. The only thing holding him back from expressing his love out loud, was the fear of uncertainty, and it was eating him from the inside right now.

“Why don’t you assemble a team right now?” She questioned, hoping she wasn’t thinking what he was thinking. It would be a suicide mission if he went alone without back up.

“I don’t have time for that.” He typed in the coordinates of your last location. “She doesn’t have time for that.” He whispered before running through the portal.

———————————

You didn’t know how long you had been standing there. Bodies laid on the floor like flowers swaying in a forgotten meadow. The adrenaline once keeping you standing now left you on the ground with nothing.

You tried your best. You gave everything you had, yet it wasn’t good enough. Hundreds of lives were taken under a matter of seconds. You couldn’t tell where your blood trail started nor who it stained.

“Y/n!” Goosebumps erupted from your body, covering the skin that wasn’t pouring out your blood. He shouldn’t have come.

“Y/n!” He called out once more swinging to reach you; his mask disappearing. His shaking hands grabbed your shoulders, ignoring the corpses around him, and only focusing on the tears pouring out of your puffy eyes.

“Gracias a Dios que estás bien,” he pulled you into his chest letting you hear his fast beating heart.

“Are y okay? What hap- happened? Did you-“ His voice came in and out, leaving you with a confused face and a pounding headache.

“Lyla!” He called out to her, asking when was back up coming. His eyes never left your face. It wasn’t until a sticky wet feeling tainted his skin that he noticed the wound.

“Fuck! Okay, okay Y/n, sweetheart I need you to keep your eyes open.” He laid you down on the ground gently, pulling apart your suit to see the gash. You let out a painful scream as he applied pressure onto your injury.

“I’m sorry.” His hands began to tremble, making him yell out in frustration. Now was not the time to start panicking.

“Miguel,” you whispered out, placing a hand on his when he didn’t turn your way. “Miguel it’s okay.” You stated, he shook his head scrunching his eyes trying to clear his blurry eyes.

“No it’s not Y/n, you aren’t going to die on me. You can’t.” He cried out as you looked at him sadly. “You can’t give up that easily y/n! YOU CANT DO THAT TO ME!” He screamed applying more pressure, causing you even more pain.

“Miguel you need to let go!” You mumbled out, your conscious fading in and out of the conversation.

“I can’t Y/n! I fucking can’t!” The sound of sirens filled the air. Even as you laid splattered in blood, your hair tangled up and face filled with bruises, he still thought you looked beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your grasp on his hand loosened as your eyes closed for the very last time.

“NO!” Quickly, he began to do chest compressions, the crushing sounds of your ribs gave him no indication of stopping. He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He did not care. He needed you. He couldn’t live without you. All he ever wanted, all he ever needed was dead and he couldn’t cope with that.

Maybe if he had revealed he loved you before it wouldn’t have hurt this much, maybe if he never had fallen for you he wouldn’t have felt anything.

But in the end, all he was always going to loose you.

[thelonesomequeen]

It bugs me that some people constantly down his looks lately. Like, sorry he doesn't look like Captain America anymore, he's aging and he can't help it. I think he looks great, better than ever in fact, but that's just my opinion. He's in his forties now, soon to be 43. He looks his age and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Do they want him to pull his face tight and get ridiculous hair plugs or something? Let the man age and get off his back ffs.

👆👆👆

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I posted 1,977 times in 2022

859 posts created (43%)

1,118 posts reblogged (57%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wheredidhiseyebrowsgo

@hoechloin

@riots-not-diets-ffs

@gnomeshill

@thebestbooksaround

I tagged 1,118 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#teen wolf - 845 posts

#stiles stilinski - 750 posts

#derek hale - 702 posts

#sterek - 664 posts

#lost fic - 440 posts

#anon - 424 posts

#idk - 94 posts

#magic!stiles - 85 posts

#peter hale - 79 posts

#best followers ever - 68 posts

Longest Tag: 31 characters

#peter hale. stiles appreciation

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

hiii

do you know about any looong slowburn sterek fics preferably with smut? optional magic stiles👀

hehe thank you❤️

Hi anon. @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (25/25 | 434,625 | Explicit | Sterek) “I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” 

That was a bad word. Not found. 

Have. 

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. 

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs (31/31 | 203,776 | Mature | Sterek) “Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman (72/72 | 200,136 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski has not seen his childhood friend for going on ten years when Derek Hale insists on meeting him in a barely reputable inn to make a rather startling proposal…

The Hollow Moon by thepsychicclam (10/10 | 180,079 | Explicit | Sterek) It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all. 

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

Teenage Love Song by HaleHathNoFury (26/26 | 155,834 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow. 

It's going to suck.

B.E.A.C.O.N. by Mythological_Compendium (43/43 | 140,691 | Explicit | Sterek) "What better situation could there possibly be? We'll be pretty much stuck together, we can talk, drink and maybe later even…”

A scoff. “What? Have reunion sex?”

He shrugs. “It's been four years.”

Same Old Song and Dance by Halevetica (91/91 | 125,721 | Explicit | Sterek) Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.

Bruises and Bitemarks by orphan_account (27/27 | 121,566 | Explicit | Sterek) Biologically, Stiles is weak. When he presented as an omega, he knew that to be the truth but that never stopped him from running his mouth as a defense mechanism. However, it could only save him so many times before he ended up pissing off the wrong person. After he's attacked in the parking lot outside of school, Stiles realizes he can no longer protect himself with just pure wit and sarcasm. When the attack lands him in the hospital, his dad forces him to pick between two options, report the alphas who attacked him or join a kickboxing gym run by omega rights activist and alpha, Derek Hale, a man Stiles has been in love with for many years.

Strip by Fessst (23/23 | 117,194 | Explicit | Sterek) "Singletail whip. Your favorite, isn't it?"

Red. Stiles felt nauseated as he bent over the bench. Red. The tremble only increased when his wrists and ankles were secured with leather straps. Red. He heard the Dom behind him give a sample crack of the whip in the air. Red. This would likely pierce his skin. So fucking Red.

"What's your safeword?"

Red.

"Stiles?"

See the full post

364 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

#4

I’m in awe of this blog and the amazing people that run it!! Do you know of any Sterek fics where Scott is a bad friend to Stiles and so he spends more time with the Hale pack/Derek? I read one a long time ago on AO3 where Scott walks in on Sterek and he gets mad but I can’t remember what it was called

I sure do!

The only thing I know, came from dreaming. by gunsknivesandplaid

(1/? I 4,660 I Mature I Lydia/Jackson/Stiles)

Stiles just wants to Leave the city where ghosts of his past follow him, He walks right into his soul mate. Problem is he doesn't think he deserves this literal magical phenomenon. Wants to just ignore it, because he's not ever going to get a real break from the chaos. Will He be proven wrong? Will he let himself fall, with the chance of being hurt again?

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf

(1/1 I 11,654 I Mature I Sterek)

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

(Actually) Magic Bullet by orphan_account

(1/1 I 2,020 I Teen I Sterek)

It wasn't like Stiles was about to saw off his own mate's arm, Jesus...

He used magic instead; of course, magic required a slightly more...hands-on approach. If Derek wanted to include a little makeout session, well. Stiles wasn't complaining.

How Derek’s Brain Works by Warlock_Nerd

(15/18 I 25,934 I Teen I Sterek)

After looking at Derek’s childhood medical file, Stiles finds out that Derek was diagnosed with Autism at the age of eight. So in Stiles Stilinski fashion, he dives into research on how to help understand Derek’s condition and also help Derek understand it himself.

Glowing eyes by 0809m

(16/? I 37,852 I Teen I Sterek)

"If you accept it, the bite will take. Someone so loyal like you, with so much will, you're born to be like this Stiles." Derek says.

Stiles stays in silence a big amount of time. He really wants this, as much as he would like to think, he can't protect himself and he can't count with Scott, not anymore. He wants this.

"Do it." He says, no trace of doubt in his voice.

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

(1/1 I 65,656 I Explicit I Sterek)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.

Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.

Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.

And it’s about time somebody told him that.

The Overlooked by HarleyJQuin

(32/32 I 108,266 I Mature I Stackson)

See the full post

386 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#3

hii do you know any fics wgere the sheriff calls derek son or treats him like one??

Yeah!

Denial by thejoyfulfox for CurlzAbound

(1/1 I 4,924 I General I Sterek)

Scott thinks they're flirting. Isaac's betting on Derek sniffing him. The Sheriff thinks they're dating. Erica and Boyd are rooting for them. Derek's waiting for him to figure it out.

Stiles is the only one in denial.

light returning by lilysaid

(1/1 I 32,993 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek skips town just after the Nogitsune. When he realizes his mistake, he sets off to find Stiles, make amends, and keep his feelings for Stiles hidden. Two out of three isn't bad.

Pining, bed sharing, highly-suspect platonic touching, and shameless adoration of Derek's beard.

Love Don't Die by Finduilas

(1/1 I 33,459 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is nine years old when he discovers the gift that he's been given. A gift that he didn't necessarily ask for. Derek can touch dead things and bring them back to life. But not without consequences and conditions, many of which are heartbreaking.

Many years later, his path crosses that of his childhood sweetheart, Stiles, in very unfortunate circumstances. But now, Derek's gift gives him the power to save Stiles. And damned be the consequences.

The New Normal by midnightcas

(27/27 I 63,392 I Teen I Sterek)

After Stiles gets hurt...again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little....not normal.

AND

@npgirardog and @hokee101 suggested this one!

Sharing Food by aussiebee

(2/2 I 9,564 I Explicit I Sterek)

"Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly." ― M.F.K. Fisher

Or

Derek is pretty much absorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

404 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

#2

Do you guys have any stories where Derek is the alpha of the pack, but stiles is really the one in charge, like he's the alpha mate, or the emissary and every one listens to him.

Yeah.

To Find Your Home by adara

(1/1 I 14,905 I Teen)

The wind shifts just as he is is about to lay into the trespassers for disturbing this place, this private property, the place where Laura took her last breaths. Alone. The place he had come to look for his own clues in the daylight, to say goodbye to the only family he really had left. His breath catches for an altogether different reason when the shifted breeze reaches him. He stops thinking about Laura for a moment as his brain simply shuts down, taking in the sight of his mate before him.

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin 

(1/1 I 43,656 I Mature)

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame by orphan_account

(15/15 I 54,091 I Mature)

Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.

When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice.

558 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Must Read Fics

I asked, ya'll answered. Here's the list. More under the cut cause it's long. Enjoy.

@lovesouthernsweettea

Play Crack the Sky by WeAreTheCyclones

(23/23 I 122,787 I Mature I Sterek)

Excerpt from “Hale Pulls the Plug on the Future of Rock,” Rolling Stone, Issue 1203 – Oct. 2014 “Fans and music industry vets alike are left reeling in the wake of bassist Derek Hale’s sudden departure from Smokes for Harris. At a time when the foursome from Beacon Hills, California seems to be on the cusp of rock superstardom after just one double platinum record, Smokes has everything to lose.”

Excerpt from “Smokes for Harris: Gladiator,” SPIN.com – Feb. 2015 “Smokes for Harris gives in a little to the pop punk of yesteryear in their sophomore effort, but rather than pandering to fans of a lost era they elevate the genre in a way that hasn’t been seen in quite some time. Frontman Stiles Stilinski works double duty as singer and primary songwriter and proves that he can handle the task even without former bassist Derek Hale."

@dereles

Safety in Silence by Survivah

(5/5 I 66,901 I Mature I Sterek)

It's perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn't want to be Derek's soulmate.

@ceriat

The Moon's Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific

(2/2 I 82,866 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.

He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.

Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.

He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.

And then he leaves.

@kitchenisking

A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse

(29/29 I 115,506 I Explicit I Sterek)

"I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."

Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.

After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.

Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.

In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.

@minmu

It's Insanity, but... by rosepetals42

(12/12 I 79,678 I Mature I Sterek)

See the full post

593 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cafeinthemoon]

Unexpected Changes - Part I

Chapter 1/2

Wordcount 3,4k

Title Part I

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades X reader

Symbols ✔ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none, just comedy and family fluff!

Tagging: ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment here or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So as I don't post the 11th chapter of my other story with Hades, Ruins, enjoy this little drama/comedy starring reader as an established goddess, queen and wife and her ever loving husband Hades <3 This was a quick idea I had a few days ago and decided to write down as a way to rest, because the last weeks have been tough, ugh.

I'm sorry for not choosing a better title, but I hope it doesn't kill interest in this little ff XD

It’s been at least forty minutes and you were trying to ignore the growing sensation of burn in your eyes, focusing your gaze on the frail figure of Zeus sitting on his chair many floors below you. From there, you were still able to hear his voice, but each minute that passed this task became harder: your brother-in-law’s voice was now showing the first signs of tiredness, and you were fighting the urge to zone out.

You were sleepy. It’s not that you haven’t had a good night of rest before attending to your first divine council since you were received as a deity, but the necessary preparations and the anxiety that would obviously come with them were taking their toll, and now you realized how much mental work you’ve been doing since the day you’ve got the invitation by Hermes’ hands.

Until that moment, you thought you were succeeding in disguising your discomfort, and perhaps you managed to hide it from the ones sitting around you, but there were certain eyes you knew could never deceive – the ones of the King of the Underworld and your husband, Hades.

The silence around you was tangible and the attentions of everyone were for Zeus, but you could feel Hades’ look on you. With a shy glance to your left, where he was sitting, you confirmed the direction of his thoughts.

You gave him a brief smile and was going to turn your attention back to the speaker, but leaned to you and whispered something in your ear, which you couldn’t ignore.

– Is there something wrong, dear y/n?

You took one moment to understand what he was saying, and then another one to formulate a reply.

– No, I’m just a bit tired – and, forcing yourself to widen your smile, – But thank you for asking, Hades-sama.

His response was to approach his hand and caress your face for a second, then brush your hair behind your ear. You still referred to him as your master when you were in public, even when the necessity for this already disappeared: you were now a member of the divine race, and the majority of the gods there paid their respects right in your wedding’s day, recognizing you as one of them and the Queen of the Underworld; but old habits die hard, and in your heart, you were still the young maiden who married a god older than your world. Hades never tried to correct you in this sense, maybe waiting for you to get used to your position after some time, but today he seemed to find grace in this, always reacting with contentment whenever you used that treatment.

There was silence for the next few minutes, since your husband accepted your answer, but it wouldn’t take long until a sudden, loud yawn escape your mouth and catch the attention of the people closer to you, for your embarrassment.

While you tried to cover your mouth, a chuckle was heard beside you. You looked at Hades to inquire him, but he was faster: standing up from his seat, he offered his hand.

– Come with me.

– To where? – you asked as you put your hand over his.

– To a calmer place.

You stood up from your spot, avoiding the curious looks of your pairs, and soon the council was left behind.

***

It was Poseidon who found you.

He was walking down that lonely corridor, taking time to observe the landscape through the clouds, a part of his brother’s domain that he hasn’t seen since the last council: the greenish territory filled with exotic trees and what looked like colorful dots from that height, but would be easily identified as flowers at a smaller distance. You yourself appreciated this view from that same porch before Hades took you to a less visible spot at the end of the corridor, but still under people’s reach.

At that moment, the King of the Seas was the only observer.

When he approached the couch where his brother was, the scene he found was absurd, to say the least: Hades had you sleeping on his lap, wrapped in his coat, with his arms around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. You were snoring softly and didn’t even sense your brother-in-law’s arrival.

Anyone who’d see you like this would only shrug and move on; the King of the Underworld had the right to spoil his wife as he pleased, after all, especially when that was her first time attending a council, and every god knew how tiring this could be. Unfortunately, the person who found you was Poseidon, who had a more critical view on such small eccentricities: what he saw there was nothing but his indulgent brother holding a big child.

The first words said between them were his, and they were exactly like expected:

– What’s the meaning of this?

Hades' response was to raise his eyes to him and show a discreet smile.

– The trip from Hellheim to Heaven is long and tiring, brother. Even you admit that. This is her first time doing it for something that’s not a visit or a party – and, with some diversion in his tone, – Show some consideration.

Poseidon twisted his lips.

– It’s been at least two hundred years since y/n became one of us, elder brother. She must be strong enough to stand the travel by now. Isn't it why you waited so long to bring her to a council?

– Yes, that’s the main reason. Still, don’t you think it’d be cruel to not give her the necessary support? – your husband sighed, caressing your hair as he spoke – You know, I still remember when you attended this type of meeting for the first time. It was very stressful, and you told me that many times in the days after.

The other man crossed his arms, giving no verbal response to this. Hades didn’t show the slightest sign of irritation: knowing his little brother as he did, he knew he still had a long way learning the difference between taking care of a beloved one and spoiling them. Besides, he never approved this habit of his elder brother to recall his past experiences to try and evoke compassion from him: it was so unworthy of a god that he couldn’t take it seriously, so he would prefer not to say anything.

– But what can I do about it? – Hades laughed at his brother’s annoyed expression – Just wait a bit until you decide to find a significant other, Poseidon. It's for your own good, and theirs.

Poseidon would have rolled his eyes if that was a common gesture of his, but he just limited himself to give the other a blunt reply.

– I didn’t travel here just for you to lecture me, Hades. Besides... – he stared at you in a strange manner – This is not the first time I see her in such deep sleep. Are you sure everything is okay with her?

Hades raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject.

– What do you mean?

Poseidon turned to the clouds, leaning one hand on the parapet while the other was hidden behind his back.

– It's been a few days since you two came to visit me at the seas, but even then, it didn’t go unnoticed by me that y/n has been feeling often tired even when she didn’t do hard work. As far as I remember, it hasn’t always been like this – he glanced at your sleeping figure and lowered his tone, as to enter a subject about which he wasn’t sure to have the right to discuss – Not only this, but she has shown such appetite that differs from what we’ve seen from her since her transformation. Don’t you think it’s strange? It’s like she’s unconsciously trying to restock her body’s energy… from something that might be stealing it.

The smile hanging on Hades’ lips since the beginning of the conversation disappeared when he heard that. There was something... wrong with you? Well, he had to be honest and admit that you’ve been showing some strange symptoms beside the uncommon sleep and hunger lately: you’ve been more sensitive to physical contact, to some textures, smells and tastes, and have been avoiding long walks and other forms of physical effort.

However, your aspect was far from bad. Instead, you’ve became more beautiful these last days: your eyes gained more vivacity; your skin had its tone renewed, especially on your face, where it was now showing a sort of glow; your hair was thicker, though you haven’t tried any new treatment lately; also, the curves of your body were accentuated, something visible even when you wore floating dresses.

Surely, that didn’t look like the case of someone whose vital energy has been sucked. Did Poseidon understand what he was suggesting?

– Something that’s stealing her energy? – Hades glanced at you, then back at his brother – Are you suggesting that she might have been... cursed?

It wasn’t surprising that this was his first thought: gods didn’t get sick as the humans did, so the most effective way to cause dysfunction in their divine bodies without getting into a physical fight or making them use all their power was cursing them.

– It’s hard to believe that someone would have the audacity to do this to the Queen of Hellheim – Poseidon stated in a calm tone – But we cannot discard the possibility so soon. You know that not all gods have good relations with Greece. And, I have to say that, not everyone here has a positive view on Psyche’s ritual. You know what it means, brother.

Yes, Hades knew it. A human turning into a god is never a simple case. Psyche herself and Heracles were the most famous in this category, and the challenges and adversities in their way were well known by each god of each pantheon. When he proposed the wedding and the ritual, Hades was aware that a similar fate would be waiting for you, and he warned you about it. For love, you said yes to him despite that, but your willingness wasn’t enough to calm down his worries, so he took measures to protect you in every way he could. As time passed, the possibility of some evil force touching you became more and more improbable, but it never left his mind completely.

So, when Poseidon brought it back, he was ready to act.

He woke you up whispering your name. Once you were back, you straightened up and rubbed your eyes...

And startled when you saw you were not alone.

– P-Poseidon-sama! I’m... – you tried to fix your hair, avoiding his glare as you spoke – I’m so sorry for this scene...

– Don’t worry about this, y/n – was his composed reply – I'll be leaving soon. I think my brother has some matters to discuss with you now.

You turned to Hades and the slight sign of preoccupation you saw in his eyes made you shiver: with Hades being the most confident person you’ve ever known, it was rare to see it in him, and unsettling precisely because of it.

– My brother and I were talking and he said something that made me think of you – Hades explained before you said anything – That’s all.

When you seemed to calm down, Poseidon excused himself, stating that his presence in the council would be soon required. It only took one moment and you no longer heard his steps on the corridor, as his silhouette disappeared in the nearest corner.

Once you were sure you were alone, you turned to your husband and touched his face, making him look at you.

– Hades, my dear – you whispered – I can see you’re worried. What were you talking about? What did he say that put you in this state?

Hades took your hand in his and kissed its palm.

– He just pointed out some things I myself noticed these days concerning you, little one, but refused to acknowledge.

– Concerning me? How so?

He put your hand upon his shoulder.

– You’ve been acting… weird these days, y/n. You’ve been experiencing changes in your sleeping and eating habits, as well as frequent episodes of tiredness. When we visited Poseidon in his palace, he noticed this too, but only brought it to my attention now. But this is not everything.

– What do you mean?

– My brother suggested that these strange symptoms are being caused by some force or influence over your body, which is stealing your energy and forcing you to compensate the loss with more resting and food.

You frowned, trying to process what you heard.

– Something is stealing my energy? Are you telling me that Poseidon-sama thinks that I’m sick?

– My dear, have you forgotten that gods don’t get sick? What he suggested – he caressed your hair with visible preoccupation – Is that you might have been cursed.

You gasped.

– Cursed?! But… how? Why? And... by who?

Hades took a moment deliberating before giving you a verbal answer.

– This is what we need to discover. But we won’t do it if we stay here.

– So, where do you think we should go?

The answer was categorical… and not entirely pleasing to you.

– Back to Hellheim – Hades helped you to stand and started leading you back inside the building – I’ll talk to Zeus and ask him to excuse ourselves from this council. I'm sure he will understand. Then, once we reach home, I’ll contact Beelzebub. There’s no person who knows more about curses than him. He will know what to do.

You swallowed. If your husband considered necessary to reach out to Beelzebub-sama, he surely believed the case was serious, more than he’d like to tell you. However, you weren’t feeling that bad: the strange signs were as vivid to you as they were to Hades, but you haven’t sensed in them any threat against your life. Besides... you were still unable to feel entirely comfortable in the presence of the Lord of the Flies, mostly because the human perception of him was still alive in you, so you still avoided him as much as you could.

And you tried to do it that time as well.

– Do you really think it’s necessary, my dear? – you stopped and held his arm, making him turn to you – I don’t think my situation is that serious... And I don’t like the idea of disturbing Beelzebub-sama. He must be too busy with his works.

Hades’ response was to stare at you for a while and show you a teasing smile.

– After all this time, you’re still afraid of him, aren’t you?

You gasped.

– What?! I-I'm not...!

Though your moods were inflamed, your indignation was just too cute for your husband, whose laughter made you give up on the argument.

– There’s no need to worry, little one – he pulled you into a warm hug and kissed the top of your head – I’ll be there with you during the whole visit. Besides, Beelzebub is an excellent, reliable professional. I’ve told you about the times he helped my family, right? This case must be no challenge for him.

***

You were anxious.

On the first break of the council, Hades hurried to Zeus’ private room to announce your leaving. You were present at that moment and heard all the conversation, of course, and even wanted to make your opinions known, but weren't willing to interrupt: Hades already decided to leave Heaven, and making him change his mind would be too complicated by now; besides, you didn’t want to cause more disturbance to Zeus-sama, who was already busy with the matters of the council.

The thing is that there were some details about your case you didn’t tell your husband, for you yourself weren’t sure of how to deal with them and didn’t want to make him worried before understanding what was going on: besides the symptoms noticed by Poseidon, you’ve been feeling dizzy at random moments of the day, something that you would solve with a few minutes sitting on a comfortable chair, and during mornings, your stomach would feel weird, forcing you to leave the bed to throw. You didn’t know the reason behind these episodes of nausea, since you haven’t made any changes in your diet, so you just ignored them, thinking they were a consequence from the anxiety about the council and hoping they would soon pass.

But they didn’t.

Right in the morning of the trip, it happened again, but you were lucky that Hades used to leave the bed hours before you, so he didn’t see anything, just like in the previous days. You knew you couldn’t hide this forever, so you started to think of how to talk to him about it. However, before you could do it, Poseidon came to speak with his brother; and, trusting him as he did, Hades soon decided that taking you to see a doctor was the best.

And, now that Zeus accepted his request to leave and was saying his farewell, there was nothing you could do. You would just go back to your lodge and pack your things as your husband went to prepare the carriage that would take you back to the Underworld.

***

Hades closed the door of that strange room behind you after you entered, then led you to the middle of it.

The place was filled with tables covered with bottles of all possible shapes, containing bubbling fluids, bowls with colored powders, tools and paper notes, everything touched with a soft, white light descending from the ceiling. It was a quiet room with just occasional noises that barely disturbed your ears, yet with so many things happening at the same time that you were afraid you were going to have an episode of dizziness if you stood there for too long. As if it wasn’t enough, the smells of mixed chemical composts invaded your nostrils, threatening your stomach with a nausea crisis.

In the middle of this, sitting calmly on a chair and reading the last lines of a note in his hands, was the man about whom your husband spoke as being the greatest specialist in curses he knew: Beelzebub, the solitary god who has traveled between all the known worlds seeking for a cure for his own curse.

Because of his decision of not establishing close relations to his pairs, you’ve only seen him in a few occasions since you became a goddess, and he would never stay for too long in your presence; besides, Hades was the one who used to lead the conversations during those occasions, so that you never had an opportunity to talk directly to him for a more than a few minutes. This always caused a sort of discomfort in you whenever you had to deal with him, as if you never knew if you were bothering him, even less how he felt towards you.

That time wasn’t different, and the fact that you were the main subject of the encounter only made you more nervous.

When Beelzebub finally left the paper over the table and raised his eyes to you, you swallowed. Not only those dark, lightless pupils scared you as much as Poseidon’s aura used to do in your first years in the Greek family, but the contrast between them and that young face of his still unsettled you. Letting him notice your discomfort was your worst fear concerning the Lord of the Flies, so you avoided his gaze and waited for Hades to lead the matters for you.

– So, what’s bothering you, Hades-san? – he turned his chair to you; and, with a soft smile, – It’s been a long time since you asked for my help.

– And I’d be forever grateful if you could help me once again – Hades put a soft hand over your head – My y/n has been experiencing strange symptoms that could be considered the consequences of sickness if she was still human. I talked to Poseidon about it and he suggested that this might be a case of… curse.

Beelzebub spent a few seconds looking at Hades before turning his gaze to you; you shivered, crossing your arms over your chest as he examined you from head to toe. He looked back to your husband...

And asked the last thing he was expecting.

– What do you mean, she’s cursed?

Chapter 2

[contentment-of-cats]

I take a deep breath because I can.

Edited: They have found a debris field near the Titanic.

Mortality is never far from a cancer patient's mind. We all die, cancer or no cancer, fairly or unfairly. The universe is the universe and keeps on going whatever the big, beautiful, horrifying, and deadly universe keeps on doing. It's not my mortality that I've been thinking about the past few days, though it's never far from my mind. It's about five people I didn't know.

People hate death. It gets in the way of the happy endings that we've been spoon-fed over decades. We want to see happy endings, see absolute miracles, so much that we won't agree that there is a line where Happy Ending Land stops and reality begins. The media is complicit and people dwell in denial to the point where it's psychosis.

CNN is my case in point this morning.

If that submarine did not have a catastrophic hull failure on Sunday morning, there are now five bodies on a garage-built unclassed, uninspected, 'experimental' submarine on the floor of the ocean. The iar is gone, the battery power is gone, they are breathing in each other's carbon dioxide, hungry, thirsty, hypothermic,in the absolute dark. Billionaire hatred aside, I cannot think of a more horrible way to die nor anyone I would ever wish it on - the same way I would never wish cancer on anyone. I am walking the measured mile, these folks were locked in and dropped down. The fact that people signed an extensive multi-page waiver to board this thing makes me scream in horror.

One thing nobody wants to talk about on TV is the very real probability that one hour and forty-five minutes into it's dive, the sub experienced catastrophic hull failure and crushed down to something the size of a Weber kettle grill. All the air would have been pushed out of every component, including the humans inside. It would have taken a couple of seconds at that depth, just fifteen minutes from the bottom and the wreck of the Titanic. Apparently losing contact with the sub happened often enough that it was not reported until eight hours later. That is the best case scenario. A better case would be that they find it, bring it up to the surface, and show people the actual real consequences of hubris and stupidity.

Worst case is that they hung on in the dark, in the cold, hearing rescuers above them as they died this morning.

Their friends are saying that they could still be alive. These men were experienced adventurers, they would know how to conserve oxygen. The FFS section of this post begins below with OceanGate's co-founder talking to CNN.

While life support supplies are now believed to be running low, a co-founder of the company that operates the missing Titanic submersible says he believes the crew's expertise will extend the "window available" for rescue. Guillermo Söhnlein made the comments in a statement to CNN. He specified her was speaking on behalf of himself and not the company, OceanGate. He said OceanGate CEO and co-founder Stockton Rush — who is aboard the sub — and the rest of the crew would have "realized days ago that the best thing they can do to ensure their rescue is to extend the limits of those supplies by relaxing as much as possible." Based on the crew members' expertise, the "window available" for rescue is longer than "what most people think," Söhnlein said. Thursday will be a "critical day in this search and rescue mission," he added. "I continue to hold out hope for my friend and the rest of the crew," Söhnlein said. "I would encourage everyone to remain hopeful for getting the crew back safely."

This is fucking nutty. This is denial. Nobody wants to think that corporate hubris killed five people including the co-founder, engineers deal in reality. These people are dead. You can't spin dead. You can't wish away dead. Dead is the hardest, coldest fact of all and one of the hardest to live with, whether it's yours or someone else's.

Side note. On Monday it will have been a month since my mom's death. I knew it was coming either from dementia or COPD. The stroke moved it up. Nobody, including her doctors, saw it coming. There was no high blood pressure, her vascular health was excellent. With directives in place, she was as comfortable as possible. I remind myself that hemipaleigic, with dementia, and COPD would have been the ultimate cruelty. I still get the urge to pick up the phone and call her. I can't. Death is the hardest reality.

Next is a friend of two of the men in the sub.

“I know that the adventurers on board are experienced, very experienced,” said Per Wimmer, an adventurer who was previously signed up for two canceled trips on the Titan. Wimmer is an acquaintance of Hamish Harding and Stockton Rush, two of the five people on the missing vessel. He said Harding, a British businessman and trained jet pilot, and Rush, the CEO and founder of the company leading the voyage, are both very experienced adventurers who would know to conserve oxygen. “They would no doubt know what it means to slow down, take it easy, and use as little oxygen as possible, and therefore extend the potential timeline as much as possible," he added. Wimmer said that the presence of OceanGate CEO Stockton Rush on board the vessel is helpful, as he knows “the ins and outs of how this submersible works.”

Again, the Bulletproof Fallacy is at work. "I have never been shot, therefore I am bulletproof."

They've deployed a medical team with a specialty in dive medicine and equipped with hyperbaric oxygen chambers. There is hope, yes, and then there is acceptance that the ocean is as merciless as space. It is hostile to our life form in that if our artificial environment is breached, we can't continue to live.

They've found a debris field. It may or may not be part of the 1912 wreck.

[gregoftom]

I often think about what Tom’s childhood/adolescence in Minnesota must have been like to make him Like That. His parents seem like very normal people that love him a lot, so I feel like it’s not because of them. Like no parent is perfect but I’d say he has a pretty good relationship with them given how happy he is to see them at the wedding and the fact that he trusts his mom to be his lawyer (him rarely going to see them is likely more Shiv’s doing). So I think a lot of it comes down to Tom being a very repressed and closeted gay kid in the 80s lmao. Like I imagine him being the flamboyant kid that enjoys traditionally “girly” stuff (like reading his mom’s Vanity Fair magazines) and naturally gets along better with the girls than the boys, and getting relentlessly bullied for it to the point that it breaks something in him and he starts to do the whole hypermasculine posturing thing we see him do constantly in the show. But that’s not *him* so it comes across as stilted and unnatural and he still has trouble making friends with the other boys, who find him weird and definitely call him gay (or some other nasty slurs). As he gets into high school I think he’d have figured out how to convincingly play straight and be accepted by his peers. A headcanon of mine is that one of Tom’s formative gay youth experiences is being on his high school hockey team and having a crush on one of his teammates; maybe he has a homoerotic moment with him, or maybe not, but the whole thing is terrifying to him. He’s surrounded by guys that are so easily masculine and are attracted to girls and don’t have to force themselves to be “normal,” and he knows he’d be shunned if they knew what he was and what he was thinking. Basically I think he was under so much stress ALL THE TIME so when he becomes an adult he just shoves it down and makes himself commit to the act that he’s a Masculine Heterosexual Man because he believes he needs to be one if he wants to be happy. Then he meets Greg when he’s in his forties and everything completely falls apart lmao

ohhhh god my poor babyyyyyyyyyyyyy 😭 i love all of this so muchhhh but for me i feel like. yeah his rs with his parents is mostly good but he Definitely has daddy issues like 100%. i feel like his dad ofc wasn't cruel to a logan degree but he like. really drove home the idea that boys don't cry. iygwim. and the fact that they have the exact same voice intonation is just mmm delicious on top of that. i think that definitely contributed to a lot of his feelings on masculinity and insecurities and why he also feels the need to repress so much and when it boils over unhealthily express it as rage because that's so much better than crying because he shouldn't cry because he's a man ffs suck it up. but all the other stuff, YES i mean i see him as bi BUT it all relates to the same thing, being queer in that time and being so repressed and his stress and pain, like ugh. ugh!!!! baby boy. baby. and yeahohhhh yeah greg drops in like a spanner in the works. cupid's arrow strikes and tom is like. man

[thecleverqueer]

Okay, the more articles I see posted about Lux Bonteri showing up in the Ahsoka series, the less I want to watch it. On god.

Like, imagine this beautiful, rebellious force god simping over this bland, boring, vanilla-ass white dude for her whole ass life after he disrespected her multiple times, kidnapped her, stole her ship, nearly got her killed by terrorists, sexually assaulted her, and then he moved on with multiple other women. And instead of her moving on with her life as a strong, independent, self-respecting woman would, she instead decides to dwell and simp fucking decades later. A one-dimensional, simplistic, tepid crush on a dude that didn’t even seem that interested in her in her teens turns into something that she actively thinks about in her mid-forties? Seriously?

What the fuck kind of garbage ass, “I literally don’t understand women at all” ass bullshit writing is that? FFS.

[trzpiotka]

just saw a girl in her early twenties with a forty something guy. he looked like the most average middle aged man and wore an ill-fitting trenchcoat. girl, get some therapy AND some taste ffs

[petalsofyouth]

Hello there.

I was wondering where your ff about Ran being a Rockstar maybe and reader being a ballet dancer? Something like that I was wondering where it is or is it not realse yet?

hi! it's not released yet, but i am so excited for this one. i hope i will execute it just as nicely as i had planned.

it's going to be a bit dark though and probably will mention a sexual abuse that reader underwent with her ex. it's not going to be detailed or anything, she will just do one thing and ran would be like oh what the actual fuck, but rather than that it's going to be okay. here's a wip so you can understand a bit how this story will go.

So, before he even met you, he had this slight dislike towards you. It was childish. It was stupid. It was unreasonable. And it was so evident everyone was taken aback. More than anyone else for obvious reasons Rindou. Knowing Ran, however, neither of them brought this up. Nobody asked him why or how or said that it wasn’t fair. Ran was Ran and intervening with his feelings, doings or morals were just as pointless as facing the eruption hoping you could get out alive. 

And he didn’t like ballet. He was never interested in it and a few things he knew from the pamphlet Rindou gave him about today’s show didn’t appear to him all that fascinating. The only thing that hooked him was the story behind The Rite of Spring. He read the annotation twice and couldn’t come to a clear conclusion so he asked Rindou. Why does spring want someone dead for it to bloom? Isn’t spring supposed to portray beauty and pureness? Rindou smiled. That easy barely there smile. It made Ran feel younger. But Rindou’s question made him feel even worse. You aren’t that poetic Ran. Have you ever been in love? You need to fall in love to understand. 

That’s when Ran finds his silence. That’s when he knows this silence was only his. Nobody else ever heard it. 

The revelation haunts him ever since. 

When Rindou gets back they barely change a couple of words. It’s time to get to their seats and they are already a bit late so they rush to the stairs and then along the hall to the gallerie. The light is off the moment they sit down and he can hear Koko rustling his silk kimono and muttering ‘just in time’. 

After that everything is silent.

Stravinsky’s music isn’t doing it for him and neither is costumes or dancing [which he knows is good, perfect even, it just does not reach his heart]. Half way through the performance he is so bored he slumps in his seat and dully follows the ballerinas twirl and jump around the scene. He wants to get out. He wants to go to his favourite ramen shop and eat two portions and then go home and sleep for two days straight. 

He can’t do either. So he stays. His arm bent at the elbow prompt at armrest. His head leaned on his palm. He is so genuinely tired and irritated and maybe a bit mad at himself and his silence. 

He hopes forty-five minutes - the duration of the ballet - pass quickly. 

It’s your pointe shoes he hears first and the sound is so loud, so strong he jolts in his seat. 

Kakucho near him does the same. “You okay?” He whispers, worried, because Kakucho is kind and he is always thinking about them. 

“Yeah. I am sorry. I am fine. Those leather pants… I just slipped a bit. I am okay. Don’t worry.” He pats him on the shoulder and sits upright knowing that he is never going to be okay again. That all those sounds coming fast at him are crushing him down, suffocating him and he wants them to go away so desperately, he’d do anything.

As he watches you - the chosen one slowly coming to meet your death in the name of spring - he tries very hard to remember if the world ever sounded like this. So rich and vast. So gentle and vicious. So alluring. He can’t take his eyes off you and he knows it’s you. He doesn’t need any confirmation. 

He knows you are Rindou’s dear friend and you are the love of his life.

[lucysinatizzy]

Wisteria ~ Chapter 20 "Deal"

The bell jingles when the front door swings open, drawing both of their attention away from the conversation. Monday’s are always slow as it is and they’ve barely had any customers stop by. Making sure his hair is still on point, Steve looks over at the entrance with a glimmer of hope that it’s a hottie since he lost rock, paper, scissors and it’s his turn to take the next customer. 

‘What luck. It’s him again...’ 

There’s no foxy mama walking into the store. Only Eddie ‘the freak’. Dustin’s new best buddy. The little twerp always has to mention how cool this weirdo is, like anyone would buy that. They went to the same high school together and he knows what Munson’s about. Not impressed. 

“Hey, what’s up?” This isn’t the first time this guy’s come into Family Video, but something’s different. While keeping his eyes directly on Steve, the metalhead strides right up with a bunch of VHSs tucked under his arm and drops them on the counter. Not handing them over nicely or making a small stack the way most people do. The movies are dumped into a heap next to the cash register. 

“Just bringin’ back the goods.” Eddie tilts his head and motions towards the pile of tapes across the surface, pulling his lips back into an unsettling half-smirk. It almost seems sarcastic from that tone and expression. A big attitude change from the last few trips he made to the store. 

“...Right.” He slowly nods before glancing over at Robin on the off chance that she’s willing to take one for the team. As soon as their eyes meet, her head whips in the other direction, pretending not to see the plea in his gaze. She goes back to stacking tapes and holds up a fist. A reminder that her rock beat his scissors. 

‘I’ll remember that next time.’

“Alright, let’s see what we got here.” Trying to ignore the look he’s getting, Steve sifts through the movies to put them together in something a little more organized. Nightmare on Elm Street, Return of the Living Dead, Friday the 13th Part II, This is Spinal Tap, Creature, Halloween, National Lampoon’s Vacation. Figures this guy would mostly pick slasher films. Sounds about right. And Dustin worships this guy? So does Mike. Of course it just has to be someone who’s a bad influence.

He goes over to the computer to look up the account. Every couple of seconds, his eyes shift over to the man standing on the other side of the counter. Munson’s just staring at him. Practically glaring. What the hell’s his issue? Even when his back is turned, he can feel those daggers digging into him. It’s getting on his nerves. 

“Is there a problem?”

“Nah, man. Does it look like I have a problem?” Eddie rolls his shoulders back, standing tall with that bitchy look still directed at him. Should he really answer that? Anyone could see he has major beef. Clearly this isn’t an isolated thing, either. That bruise on his cheek means someone got mad enough to deck him. “Is there a reason I should, pretty boy?” 

“No? That’s why I asked.” For real? Is Munson really trying to get big with him? It’ll take way more than that for Steve to be intimidated. Not after all the crap he’s seen and done. Wrong person. 

“Then why would I have a problem?” 

“Nevermind. Forget it.” Mondays might be slow and boring, but getting into it with some headbanging freakazoid isn’t his idea of how to liven it up. He puts the returns into the system and pays no mind to the dude tearing open a box of Mike and Ike’s with his teeth like some kind of animal. “That’ll be five bucks.”

“Five bucks?!” The piece of candy he threw in the air falls to the floor as he whirls back with an outraged expression. “What the hell for?” 

“Six of the movies are four days late. Looks like they were due on the fifth. Then there’s the box you’re chowing down on. That’s another fifty cents.” Hopefully this doesn’t turn into a temper tantrum. One chick racked up a forty-dollar bill the other day and instead of talking it out, she swiped everything off the counter and wrecked a display piece. Keith had to threaten to call the cops just to get her to leave the store. 

“Christ… Greedy son of a bitches…” Munson grumbles while checking the pockets of his leather jacket before pulling out a wallet from the back of his jeans. A wad of ones are slapped down and he grabs two more boxes of candy from the side. “There. Six bucks. We square?”

“Yep. You’re good to go.” He quickly counts the money and nods. Thank God this can finally be over. This guy’s a real piece of work. It’s a wonder why the kids like him so much. 

Without another word, the freak heads out with his candy. Only stopping at the door for a second to throw him one last dirty look. Leaving a bewildered Steve trying to make heads or tails of the odd interaction. 

“Did you see that? Tell me you saw that, right?” Now that they’re alone, he quickly turns to Robin and throws his hands up in confusion. “Didn’t it seem like he had a problem with me?”

“Oh, yeah. I saw all of it.” She laughs and leans up against one of the shelves. “Eddie totally hates you now. What happened, pretty boy? Did you steal his girl? Wait. He’s with Chrissy. You didn’t…?”

“No way. First off, none of the babes I talk to would ever mess around with a guy like that. Second, me and Chrissy Cunningham? Not a thing. Our parents were friends and we’ve hung out, but that’s it. Thirdly—or Third?—Munson has no reason to hate me. I haven’t done anything!” That’s right. How the hell did that happen? The town freak is trying to adopt the kids and gets a cute girl? Nothing makes sense anymore. 

AO3 & FF Link

[thoughtsaladblog]

Not Yet Goodbye, But not hello.

Well fuck! It's another year around the damn sun- and I'm another year closer to forty. But that's not the main focus of this.. or maybe it is. Let's find out in which direction my mind ambles.

But for starters- as per my last post, it was supposed to be some sad soppy farewell from Morally Grey, given that I believed him not to share an interest in me. Turns out I was somewhat pleasantly mistaken. No don't cheer yet, it doesn't really go in the direction you're hoping. So he is interested in me/attracted or whatever the fuck else, buuuuut he is looking for a partner from the same region as his (understandably so), and therefore while this is all well and dandy, it's really unlikely. Yep.. *insert loud, disappointed sigh here*

The irony of finding someone you genuinely connect with and like, finding he likes you too but you can't get together because of logistics. *insert eyeroll*

But also, in fairness, while that's a perfectly logical conclusion- nothing short of what I'd expect from a rational thinking and logical person- Imma call bullshit. Because imo, if you are genuinely invested/interested in someone and would like to pursue something with them, logistics are just an excuse. Because there's always a workaround that. So let's be real...he ain't that invested. (Hamilton said it best- "you will never be satisfied")

But that's yesterday's news. Today's news is that my stupid heart got carried away with the damn news and of course, the dumb bitch is over-analyzing shit and caring for the bloke and turning into a downright weirdo. She compelled me to buy the bugger a fucking gift!! Fucking simpy shit! Furthermore, the dumb bitch looks forward to talking to the bloke- like it's some daily dose of therapy. Like, calm down sis! This ain't that kinda vibe.

I think it's safe to say I need to reel her in and get real with her. Him being interested doesn't mean you have a shot. So you need to open your eyes and see it for what it is- a futile effort. No, you're not getting your grand, romantic love story here. Keep searching, perhaps you'll find it. Or we can both be real and accept that it doesn't fucking exist and settle for the next best option- mental, emotional and financial stability with whoever the dude.

So starting tomorrow- or rather later today- kindly, distance yourself from the guy and try not to crave his attention so much. And do right by yourself ffs! Also give the guy time and reason to miss you- and a chance to work for your affections- don't just go doling it out like Marie biscuits at a funeral.

Oh also.. No sex? Not in the mood? This is starting to look just grey without the "morally". Where's my bed-rocking, internal organ rearranging, hornier than a hamster sex?? Not gonna lie- I am fairly disappointed. 2 stars from me- and one of them is simply because he sounds cute when he speaks Sinhala. Keep this up and I feel I won't need posts to get me uninterested in the dude... Although somehow his conversations alone are enough to get the blood pumping (in my heart and in my orchid).

[zoeykallus]

Fives – Soldier Boy 13 – An Unexpected Friend

Fives x fem!Reader FF

Warnings: Angst / Tension / Hurt / Fluff

-----------

The journey and the destination that lies ahead of you and Fives is still uncertain at first and Fives is still trying to understand what exactly happened and why to him of all people.

Upon your arrival, you discover that you have unexpected allies. The question remains whether the lurking danger will remain dormant long enough to be stopped.

----------

What Happend Before:

Soldier Boy

Part 2 - Caught In The Act

Part 3 - Tender Affection

Part 4 - Worries And Secrets

Part 5 - Welcome Back, Soldier Boy

Part 6 - I Should Have Known

Part 7 - Doing Something Stupid

Part 8 - Hot Tub

Part 9 - Seize The Night

Part 10 - We Need A Medic

Part 11 - Live To Fight Another Day

Part 12 - What Lies Ahead

Part 13 - An Unexpected Friend

There was no big make out session. Fives did pull you close as you lay down, and his lips moved over your neck, but it only takes a few heartbeats for his movements to slow down and he finally fell asleep half lying on top of you. Over forty-eight hours without proper sleep, took its toll.

You gently pushed him off you, covered him up and kissed him on the forehead. You felt so incredibly sorry for what he had just been through that no one would believe him, even Rex, at least for the moment. But what he had discovered was too profound and of such magnitude that it was just hard to believe, at least for some. Even you had been puzzled, but you had never doubted Fives himself.

For a while you watched him sleep peacefully, soundly, aware of the deep connection, the warmth and affection you felt for him, with each steady rise and fall of his chest. You realized you would always be by his side, as long as he wanted you.

"I love you," you whispered softly, placing another feather-light kiss on his forehead, right next to his tattoo, before making your way to the cockpit. You were still wide awake and far too restless to lie down yet.

The glow of hyperspace filled the cockpit, you sat down in the pilot's seat, carefully resting your legs on the console and gazing out into the passing lights and colors. A small wonder, hyperspace and hyperspace travel, something so hard to imagine if you weren't used to it or didn't understand the technology behind it.

You allowed yourself for a little while to let go of any negative thoughts, to take a breath and hope that everything would get better. Leaning back in the pilot's seat, you let hyperspace pass you by.

A few hours later.

A touch on your shoulder woke you up. You startled and almost fell out of the pilot's seat, but Fives held you tight.

"Easy, easy, mesh'la, it's jut me," he said, amused.

"Oh," you said softly, blinking and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes "I wasn't actually planning on falling asleep here."

Fives smiled.

"I think we'll be there soon"

You straightened up, and looked at the nav computer. Two more hours and your shuttle would be out of hyperspace.

With a nod, you said, "Yes, soon."

He sat down in the co-pilot's seat and said, "I'm sorry I fell asleep right away, I guess I was a lot more tired than I thought."

You waved it off and said, "You really needed the sleep after all you've been through."

There is silence for a while, you didn't quite know what to say. The situation was nowhere near as relaxed as you would have liked, in the back of your minds of course was still all that had happened and you were sure Fives was bothered by it all much more than you, after all he was personally affected.

"What are we going to do when we get to Batuu?" he wanted to know.

"There were some instructions in my uncle's envelope, among other things he told me that there are credits hidden in the shuttle, enough to keep us afloat for quite a while. We also have a contact in Batuu, a Wookie who has been staying there temporarily, I don't know where from or why, but my uncle knows him. I think he got us a place to stay for now, with a landing pad for the shuttle."

Fives looked at you in surprise.

"Wow, your uncle must have thought of everything. I owe him quite a bit as soon as we can get back."

You laughed softly.

"No you don't. My uncle certainly doesn't expect you to return the favor."

Fives looked serious, "Senator Payne is doing all this out of conviction. He really believes that we clones are human and should have more rights, doesn't he?"

You nodded.

"Yes, indeed."

"Too bad he's pretty much alone in that," Fives said dryly.

You shrugged your shoulders, "Not alone, but he doesn't have a lot of supporters for this goal, that's true. But things can change and that's what he's fighting for".

Fives nodded and for a little while you both lapsed back into silence. You looked at him and finally asked, "How are you feeling?"

He looked thoughtful as he said, "Honestly mostly disappointed and confused. I've put my life on the line for the Republic, risked my life, practically every day, for a Republic that is now turning its back on me and trying to sort me out. In the process, I've discovered something that may be extremely important, that could jeopardize the continued existence of that Republic, cost lives."

He sighed and rubbed his hand wearily over his face.

"I don't know, I guess I didn't expect to be treated like this. I mean I'm a soldier, I'm used to rough manners, but this, this defies description"

You looked at him sadly.

"I'm so sorry Fives, I hope you know that I trust you and believe you, my uncle does too."

He smiled.

"I know my beautiful, that's the only thing keeping me going right now Cyare".

You landed on Batuu, at the coordinates your uncle had given you. The planet was beautiful, covered with forests and mountains, lots of nature, and the air you breathed as you walked down the ramp was fresher than anything you had ever breathed before. A strangely invigorating experience.

The Wookie you were to meet was already standing at the bottom of the ramp waiting for you. You had never seen a Wookie up close before, he was huge, you both had to put your heads back to look up at him. His fur was long and light brown with darker patches on his shoulders and legs.

Next to the Wookie stood a protocol droid, it was a colorful mix of different parts and the typical silver was interspersed with copper colored parts as well as gray and black parts.

The Wookie made a yelping noise that made you wince in fright at first, but as far as you could tell, his expression was relaxed and peaceful.

"My master, Chewbacca welcomes you. He would like to know if your journey was pleasant and safe?"

You blinked.

When Fives spoke up, the Wookie looked at him intently.

"We are fine, we are very grateful to have been allowed to come here".

The Wookie made several sounds and you realized, you would probably never be able to learn that language.

"Master Chewbacca says not to worry, you are safe here for now. He doesn't condemn you, a few of his closest battle comrades are actually clones, he has respect for your kind because your kind helps keep the Separatists at bay on his home planet and have shown him respect as well," the droid translated.

Fives nodded with a small smile.

"I appreciate that very much, Chewbacca. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost the respect of my own brothers"

Wookiet tones rang through the air again.

"My master says he thinks it's a misunderstanding, because someone he trusts more than anyone else thinks so too"

You looked questioningly from the droid to Chewbacca.

"Are you talking about Senator Payne, my uncle?"

"Grrraaahl"

"No"

Fives and you looked at each other, then finally asked, "But then who are you talking about?"

After a long series of different wookie tones the protocol dorid translated, "Master Yoda. He is on Kashyyyk at the moment, the Separatists are planning a major offensive, so Yoda is on the ground with a legion of clone troopers, that is where my master must return to as soon as possible. Master Yoda, has contacted your uncle and asked Chewbacca to help. The Jedi Master believes the clone trooper ARC 5555, call sign Fives, is telling the truth. Master Yoda, senses the truth in the Force, Master Chewbacca believes in his wisdom. But for now, Master Yoda, can do little more than remain vigilant, support Senator Payne's efforts, and wait while you remain safe here."

Your head was spinning, and Fives seemed to feel the same way. He slowly sat down on the ramp, as if his legs could no longer hold him upright.

"Master Yoda believes me?"

The Wookie nodded.

Fives was visibly moved and agitated, but he still pulled himself together well, much better than you would have done in his place.

"What legion did Yoda take with him to Kashyyyk?"

The protocol droid translated, "The 41st Elite under Commander Gree."

Fives nodded, "Gree is one of the best."

"My master agrees with that. He must leave now, he is leaving me here to serve you and show you around"

"That is very generous, thank you" you said sincerely.

The Wookie nodded to both of you, bowed slightly to you, and patted Fives hard on the shoulder.

He toned something and disappeared toward another shuttle.

You watched as he boarded and took off, then Fives turned to the protocol droid, "What was the last thing he said?"

"He said the people who really mattered would always believe you as long as you told the truth."

@clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi

@mybigfatspoonielife

@revan-posting

@misogirl828

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@skywantano

@chxpsi

@andyoufollowyourheart

@kaliel2310

[blairsanne]

An Unexpected Blue Wizard (7)

Summary:  An older brother gives lessons. A boundary is crossed in the rain. Nightmares and old memories make for glass nerves. A taste of home, and the comfort of a new family.

Cross posted to FF and AO3.

Chapter 7: Night Phlox

Despite the nightmares that plagued Andréa’s sleep, two short days of travel passed without incident. She’d managed to act mostly like her usual self, though in quiet moments she still stared off into the distance clutching her necklace; it had gone unmentioned, but not unnoticed.

As the company settled into a camping spot for the night, Fíli approached Andréa where she was quietly chatting with Bilbo about dwarf beards. He was sure he’d overheard Bilbo say something about Thorin, but chose to ignore it when he saw the looks of embarrassment on their faces at his sudden presence.

He smiled and held up a throwing knife. “Ready for practice, backup wizard?” She raised her brows. “Oh! Yes.” She winced apologetically at Bilbo. “If- that’s alright?” Bilbo grinned and waved her on. “Have fun.”

Kíli looked over from where he was assisting Ori to tie up the ponies, and caught the sight of Fíli and Andréa walking off from camp. Once again she seemed to be smiling bashfully at his older brother while Fíli said something. It turned his stomach in a way he couldn’t admit to himself, and he stared after them until they disappeared behind a nearby outcropping.

“Are you feeling like a warrior, ready to rain sharp death on your enemies?” Fíli asked as he presented the log he’d set up for her to aim at. “Sure,” she lied badly. He laughed and held out a throwing knife to her. “This one is the best to start with. Perfectly balanced, so it’ll be easier to aim. Careful, though, it’s deceptively sharp.” She took it from him gingerly, careful not to cut his outstretched hand.

“Now watch-” He pulled out another small blade and lifted it behind his head, pausing at the height of his usual arch. “See how I grip the handle? When I throw, it will spin. The trick is to throw with enough force and spin to stick the sharp end into your target.” She slowly nodded, feeling more intimidated by this than she had when learning archery from Kíli.

Fíli demonstrated his throw in slow motion a few times while she watched and tried to imitate his form. “Okay, now…” He took a deep breath and then, from a neutral position, went through his throwing motion at his usual breakneck speed. She blinked and looked over to the log, brows raising with admiration to see that it had struck true. “You try.”

To say that her efforts were comical would have been generous. Fíli marveled that the wizard who had struck his uncle square in the forehead with an acorn seemed completely unable to throw a knife at a log with any accuracy. He saw her embarrassment grow as he tried to correct her form, bountiful instruction and encouragement not quite enough to get the hang of it after forty or so throws.

Finally he stepped closer and put his hands toward her. “May I?” She wasn’t sure what he was even asking, but she agreed out of trust. He stepped behind her and used his body to position her, grabbing her throwing hand with his and slowly moving it through the motion. Then he did the real throw, letting go of her hand when he would have let go of the knife. To her surprise, she felt the difference. The force in the throw and when to let go were different when he did it than what she’d thought.

Kíli was frozen in the treeline behind them. He’d come to fetch them for dinner, but had stopped in his tracks when he saw his brother’s arms around the backup wizard.

Fíli stepped away and handed her one of the blades again. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time the blade hit the log by the handle, bouncing off to land in the dirt. “Huzzah!” Fíli shouted, startling her. “But it didn’t stick!” “You hit the target, that’s the first hurdle.” He showed her another knife. “You have to judge the distance and how many rotations of the knife it will take to stick. You can use more force or even throw by the blade to get the number of rotations right.” He gingerly held it by the blade and whipped it at the log, sticking easily.

She shook her head in amazement. “This is a very difficult technique. I’m not sure if this is really something I will end up being good at.” Fíli laughed. “We can try something else? But I do think you could learn it, in time.” “That is very kind to say.”

“How are you taking to archery?” She straightened up somewhat at the mention. “Oh, I think- I think I might be getting better at it?” “Is Kíli a better teacher than I am?” Fíli teased. Her face fell somewhat in distress. She didn’t mean to offend him. “No- I- I think I’m just more suited to it, perhaps.” Fíli smirked. He wondered if she didn’t just prefer the company. “Kíli’s not bad a throwing knives.”

“Not as skilled as you, Fi.” Kíli’s voice called out behind them as he casually walked up. Andréa flushed at the sight of him, shoulders hunching slightly. “Surely much better than me.” Kíli gestured to his older brother. “Years of forced lessons with this one. Even Bilbo could throw as well as me with that much practice.” She frowned at the casual put-down of their hobbit. “Don’t speak ill of Bilbo.” He put his hands up defensively. “I meant nothing by it.”

Fíli held out some of his knives. “Kíli, why don’t you do a few throws. Maybe you can show her something I haven’t.” Kíli shrugged. “Alright.” He took the first blade, frowning somewhat. He’d never felt nervous about throwing knives before, but the thought of missing in front of her now mortified him.

Luckily, Fíli was right. Kíli had years of practice behind him, and no trouble sticking the log three times in a row. Andréa had noticed a difference in their technique, however. While it was clear that he’d learned the same throwing motions that Fíli had shown her, Kíli aimed standing as he did for archery. She wondered if that might make things easier on her as well.

After the third throw, Kíli grinned with satisfaction. “Ah, not bad for being rusty.” He dusted his hands together and looked between them. “In any event, I came to tell you dinner was nearly ready to serve. We should head back to camp.”

---

Andréa sat with Bilbo after finishing dinner. He was telling her about the hobbit family politics in the Shire. “Ah, but my cousin Otho’s wife, she wants Bag End.” She tilted her head playfully. “And here you are, on an adventure, not guarding your home. What will you do if you find she’s moved in when you return?” Bilbo laughed, then paused, a distressed look crossing his face as he contemplated it.

“Andréa!” Kíli called to her from a distance. When she looked over, he held his bow up. “I’m going to do some shooting. Would you like to come?” She grinned and grabbed her bow. She gave Bilbo a sympathetic smile. “Excuse me, Mr. Baggins. But if I get enough practice, I may actually be of some use.” She laughed self-deprecatingly as Bilbo waved her off, then quickly joined Kíli’s side.

Bilbo watched as the two walked away from camp, and smiled to himself as he recognized the special way they seemed to regard each other. He briefly imagined Thorin inviting him off to a secluded part of the forest, then shook his head.

Kíli led Andréa a fair distance, until they could no longer see the light of the fire or hear any sounds from camp. A bright moon shone, covered from time to time by quick moving clouds. “I hope our burglar didn’t mind me stealing you away.” “Oh, no,” she shook her head. “Bilbo’s not like that.” “You two seem close.” He flashed a teasing smile. “Do you care for him?” “Of course,” she replied seriously. “I care for everyone in the company.” “That’s not…” Kíli laughed, trailing off. “I think we simply ended up becoming friends because neither of us are Durin’s folk.” “Neither are Bofur, Bifur, or Bombur.” She turned to him in surprise. “No?” He shook his head at her. “No, they’re from the Blue Mountains.”

He was surprised by her strong reaction to this news. She seemed distressed and confused. “Not all dwarves are Durin’s Folk, Andréa.” “No, I knew that. But…” She looked away. “I’m just surprised that they would risk their lives to reclaim Erebor if they’re not,” she lied.

He slowed to a stop and gestured to a fallen log they could shoot. She nodded and they both readied their bows. Kíli shot an arrow. “You’re not Durin’s Folk either, but you’ve come along.” She smiled bashfully. “Ah, that’s true.” She shot an arrow.

He smiled at her improved accuracy, then turned to her with a serious expression. “Why are you risking your life for us?” She pulled an arrow from her quiver. “Mmm… At first, it was simply something to do to be of use.” She shot. “And now?” She looked up at him. “Now I know you. I want to make sure you all survive the journey.” He smirked. “Of course we will.” He shot another arrow, marking just above his first one. “And Thorin will be King Under the Mountain.”

The moonlight faded even more as a dark grey cloud rolled overhead. Still, she managed to shoot the log again. They continued on, Kíli making suggestions to her form or aim if he thought of them, until they were both out of arrows.

Andréa pulled an arrow from the log and started when she felt a drop of rain hit her cheek. She looked up, noting the dark clouds that had taken over the sky. She went back to her task. “We should hurry back to camp.” “Mm,” Kíli nodded. “You did well tonight.” She grinned at the praise. “Thank you.” After her abysmal performance with Fíli’s throwing knives, knowing that she was passable at archery slightly soothed her ego.

The rain picked up as they finished taking their arrows and became a sudden, deafening downpour. She put up her hood and moved closer to Kíli as he did the same. Kíli looked around and nodded in a direction that wasn’t toward camp. She followed him, and soon they were under cover, inside a shallow outcropping of rock in the forest hillside.

Andréa removed her hood and wiped rain from her face. “I should have brought my staff,” she bemoaned. Kíli looked out into the dark, wet night. “We can wait here for a time. If it doesn’t clear, we may be better off returning to camp even in the rain.” She nodded, looking around the small space they were occupying. “Agreed. This is not the best place to sleep.” There was enough room for them to stand, but they’d have to sleep sitting against the stone wall to avoid the deluge. She looked out into the sheets of rain and shivered, grateful for the cover.

“You’re cold,” he noted. He put his hand on her shoulder and nudged her further into the alcove. “Stand away from the opening.” She moved to where he directed, but smiled at him. “I’ll be alright.” He shrugged out of his outer coat. “Here.” He draped it over her shoulders. “Keep warm.” She protested, starting to remove it. “No, Kíli, then you’ll get cold.” He put his hands over her shoulders, pressing it in place, and leaned down slightly. “I run warmer than you. I’m a dwarf. I’ll be fine.” She looked up at him in the dark, feeling the flush on her cheeks. “Thank you, Kíli.”

He smiled crookedly, studying her face. He couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but she seemed to be blushing. He wondered if it was because of their proximity. He brushed some stray, wet hairs from her face. “Don’t want you falling ill.” There was a sudden flash of light, followed by a booming crack. Andréa yelped, pressing against Kíli’s chest. “It’s only lightning,” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her protectively as he tried not to laugh. “It just startled me,” she replied defensively. She moved to pull away, but he gripped her tighter, putting one hand on the back of her head. “I’ll protect you,” he promised. “No.” She pushed him away enough that she could look at his face. No? He had a wounded expression as he removed his hands from her.

She took one of his hands in hers, and gave him a pointed look. “We’ll protect each other.” He let out a soft snort, forcing a smile as he rolled his eyes. “Alright.” She returned his gesture, moving wet hair out of his face. “It is more important that you survive this journey than I do.” His brow furrowed. “Don’t speak so lowly of yourself.” “I took an oath to protect Durin’s Folk, and I mean to keep it.” He moved closer, holding her hand against his chest as he smiled crookedly. “And I mean to protect you in kind.” “You don’t need to-” “I want to.” He licked his lips, stealing a glance at hers. “Am I not free to do so?” She nodded, swallowing nervously at his proximity. “Of course. Do as you wish.” “As I wish?”

He studied her face. Her wide, hazel eyes were dark pools in the din in which they stood. Her beardless jawline was more delicate than those of the dams back home. Her slightly parted lips called to him like never before, and he slowly moved his face closer to hers. Her eyes never left his, and he met her silent gaze as he nudged his nose against hers.

Do as you wish, she’d commanded. And so he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. She felt her cheeks aflame, his stubble prickling her skin in an unfamiliar way, and she could not help but tentatively press back against his mouth.

When they pulled apart, they were both quiet while the rain continued to pound around them. Kíli froze, waiting for some kind of reply from Andréa to indicate if it was alright with her. They stared at each other in the dark for a moment before she tipped up on her toes to kiss him again.

At this, his hand reached up to the nape of her neck, pulling her into a deeper kiss. She gripped at his shirt. He pressed her against the rock wall as she sighed against his lips. After a long, heated moment, he pulled back and rubbed his nose against hers, his gaze intense. “Peony…”

Her breathing was heavy as she stared up at him in the dark. She felt like she should say something - to stop him from pursuing her - knowing that he was ultimately in line for the throne they were attempting to reclaim. Knowing that he should be with someone more like him. Instead, she closed her eyes as he kissed her again, losing herself in her desire for the dwarf. Their bodies pressed against each other in the dark, tongue meeting tongue and hands gripping wet clothing. When they pulled apart again, chests heaving, she looked down, once again conflicted.

She suddenly closed her eyes, brow furrowing, as an echoing voice filled her mind.

“Gandalf is coming for us,” she murmured. “What?” Kíli removed his hands from her, confused. He looked around, wondering if they could be seen where they were. “He sent word to me just now.” She took a breath, trying to ground herself. “He and Fíli are coming to find us and show us where they moved camp.”

The two looked at each other with an awkward disappointment, then both averted their eyes, unsure what to say. Andréa took off Kíli’s coat and held it to his chest, unable to meet his gaze. “Thank you.” “Of course.” He put it back on, feeling quite out of sorts, just as a light appeared down the path.

Gandalf and Fíli walked under a barrier produced by Gandalf’s staff, keeping them dry. Fíli carried a torch, and Gandalf had Andréa’s staff in his other hand. “Kíli?” Fíli called into the night. Andréa moved to the opening and waved. “Here!” The other two were soon upon them. “There you are, brother,” Fíli grinned. He looked them over, thinking they were dryer than he’d expected. “Good work finding cover.” “Thank you for coming to fetch us.” Kíli forced a smile, though he felt somewhat irritated by the rescue, given what it had interrupted.

Gandalf passed Andréa her staff as the four made their way back to camp. “You should not have left this.” “Evidently,” she admitted, her tone light. “Though my thinking was that it was safe back at camp, and I was safe here with Kíli.” She gestured up at the sky. “I did not account for weather.” “You should be prepared in the event of an emergency,” he admonished her. She nodded, her expression sobering. “I know. It won’t happen again.”

Kíli frowned slightly at Andréa being scolded. He wanted to defend her, but wasn’t sure how the grey wizard would respond. Knowing Andréa, she wouldn’t want me to try to argue on her behalf anyway. Andréa knew what Gandalf was getting at. The issue wasn’t so much that she hadn’t been able to keep them dry or light a path with her staff; if they’d been attacked, she’d have had no way to call for help or protect Kíli beyond her combat skills. Forgetting her staff made her less able to fulfill her oath.

While they walked, Kíli glanced at Andréa several times, but she seemed to keep her eyes low. Even when Fíli tried to make light conversation, she was mostly quiet. Kíli overcompensated, forcing his usual enthusiasm. Once they’d been led back to their new camp location - inside a shallow cave - Andréa found her belongings with Bilbo and swiftly set down to sleep beside him without saying much to anyone else in the company.

---

That night her dreams were dark. She walked alone with Kíli in the wet woods, unarmed. They stopped in the pouring rain and he spoke to her in his dwarf tongue, but she could not hear him. “Kíli?” A flash of lightning, and then they were surrounded by orcs. She could only stand frozen as they cut him down. Another flash of lightning, and in his place was her father. His dead eyes seemed to weep in the flood.

---

In the morning, she woke with a heavy heart. Her fingers fumbled as she took down her hair to brush it out and re-braid it, and she could not shake the ghastly nightmares from her mind.

She purposely kept close to others in the company, not giving Kíli a chance to speak with her privately about what had happened the night before. Not wanting to look upon him, as each time she did, she recalled her awful dream.

As they set off, she inserted herself into a conversation that Bofur and Bombur were having - or rather that Bofur was having, directed at Bombur - and ended up keeping with them most of the day. She even struck up a conversation with Thorin later in the day as he was riding beside Gandalf.

Kíli tried to catch her attention many times, but she seemed to be doing all she could to avoid him without outright saying something. Any time he came near, she would find something else to get busy with. By the time they broke to make camp and have supper, he’d become somewhat sullen.

As Kíli and Fíli gathered firewood together, Fíli paused. “Did something happen last night, brother?” “What?” Kíli paused momentarily, then continued his task. “Beyond being caught in the rain?” “Did you offend Andréa in some way?” “I don’t believe so,” he answered honestly. “She’s been avoiding you all day. Which is… different.”

Fíli had noticed Kíli’s interest in the wizard first, but it hadn’t taken much to put together that she - normally - lit up at every opportunity to be alone with his little brother. It wasn’t unusual for her to spend time with the others in the company, but the way she’d managed to avoid Kíli entirely for the day was out of character - and somewhat impressive given the many attempts he’d seen Kíli make to get her attention.

“Perhaps she’s grown sick of me,” he tried to sound unfazed. “You’re sure nothing happened.” Kíli thought to himself. “Well…” He paused, standing with his arms full of wood. “She said something about her staff, and Gandalf scolded her about it.”

Fíli’s brows raised as he recalled the comment. He hadn’t thought much on it at the time, but Gandalf had sounded disappointed.

“Ah, that’s right. She said it wouldn’t happen again.” He pursed his lips, wondering why she’d take such a small criticism so hard, or why she’d be avoiding Kíli because of it. “Do you think she’s embarrassed?” “I don’t know.” Kíli shrugged. “She has been insecure lately.” Fíli nodded and thought for a moment, then laughed quietly to himself. “Perhaps she just doesn’t want you getting her into any more trouble with the grey wizard.”

Kíli frowned, looking into the middle distance. Am I getting her in trouble?

Fíli noticed the way his younger brother had taken the comment and finished what he was doing. “Let’s get back to camp.”

---

Andréa was sitting beside Bilbo eating supper when Fíli and Kíli came over to join them. She looked up and made eye contact with Kíli almost accidentally. They stared at each other while the brothers crossed the final few feet to where the others were seated.

The way that Kíli seemed to be silently pleading with her made her chest ache. She hadn’t intended any harm in avoiding him, but realized he’d probably mistaken it as some form of rejection. Kíli, meanwhile, noted the flicker of fear behind Andréa’s silent stare, and wondered if he’d overstepped the night before.

Andréa forced a smile for the dwarves as they sat down. “Good evening.” “You boys just missed my recounting of The Old Took, who lived to be a hundred and thirty.” “Quite impressive for a hobbit,” Andréa explained. Kíli offered a polite smile, though admittedly wasn’t that interested in hobbit tales. “Surely you’ll live at least that long, eh, Bilbo?” Bilbo let out an uneasy laugh.

“Shall we do some sparring after supper?” Fíli offered. Andréa and Kíli locked eyes for a moment before she looked over to Fíli, and then down to her food. “Alright,” she agreed. He said it would help with my confidence…

Though he noted her hesitation, Fíli was encouraged by her agreeing to spar with them. Maybe he’d imagined or read too far into her behaviour earlier in the day.

“What sort of sparring did you have in mind?” she wondered. “Maybe some sword practice today?” “Not as aggressively as with Thorin…?” she hedged. Fíli raised his brows and nodded, recalling how she’d nearly been beheaded by their uncle. “We’ll be careful.” “Unless you’d prefer something else?” Kíli offered, genuine concern tinting his otherwise lighthearted tone. “No, no. That sounds preferable to throwing knives. At least I have some skill with a sword already,” she laughed. “But you won’t get better without practice,” Fíli chastised. She tilted her head back and forth. “True… But another night.”

“Do you plan to master all forms of combat?” Bilbo asked jokingly, nudging her arm. “If that’s what it takes,” she answered too seriously, not looking up from her meal. “I want to overcome everything.” She put a piece of potato in her mouth. “That’s a tall order,” Bilbo remarked lightly.

“Especially for such a short wizard,” Gandalf laughed, stopping as he walked past them. She looked up at him with a slight smirk. “Then I shall grow wings.” “You would.” The two gave each other knowing smiles before Gandalf excused himself to continue on to where he was intending to bed down for the night.

Fíli finished his meal. “Ambition alone won’t be enough. Let’s get you some practice, backup wizard.” She snorted but soon she followed the young brothers out of camp to a nearby space they could spar in.

---

Kíli had insisted that she spar with him, apparently not trusting Fíli to do no harm to her. Andréa rolled her shoulders, trying to shake the nerves from her bones as she squared up against a dwarf again, not having forgotten Thorin’s intensity.

“It’s just practice, Peony,” Kíli murmured to her, the crooked grin on his lips more reassuring than teasing. He held his sword up and raised his brows, waiting for her to do the same.

They started slow, each testing the other’s reflexes. Fíli watched silently from a short distance, studying her technique. He wasn’t at all worried about Kíli being injured or accidentally cutting her; he’d sparred with his brother enough to know his skill. Even if she had sliced a line across Thorin’s fists.

It was a playful match, but they were both skilled. As they grew more comfortable, Kíli found himself laughing at her tricky angles. She came at him in ways that he wouldn’t have thought of; sneaky, tricky maneuvers that a dwarf wouldn’t bother with. His laughing put her at ease, and soon he picked up the pace.

She could read his moves easily enough - straight-forward, direct attacks - but there was no denying that he was stronger than her. Blocking his strikes with her sword only led to her struggling to keep him from bearing down on her, so she had to dodge and roll, and catch him off-guard with kicks and elbow jabs as they danced around each other. If it went on long enough, she was sure she’d tire before him and be overpowered.

When she tapped his back and danced away, Kíli heard Fíli laugh at him. His mouth twitched in annoyance and he went at her with more voracity. She met him in kind, and soon they both had beads of sweat on their brows.

He grabbed her wrist when she tried to smack his chest, and pulled her toward him, but she lifted her blade between them. He let go and teasingly smacked her sword with his, smirking at her. “Ah-ah.” She narrowed her eyes. Another strike. Dodged. They danced about each other, blades grazing against each other before changing position again.

She misjudged a lunge he made and barely avoided his sword, letting out a small noise of surprise. She moved in closer, feigning to strike. Instead she dodged his counter and ducked down below him.

She flipped her sword, jamming her pommel up into his chest, at his heart.

Kíli froze mid-strike, staring down at her sword in shock. It took his brain a second to register that she had not pierced him in any way; that she had only knocked him with her handle, and that he was fine.

Their eyes met, and her fierce battle demeanor dissolved into a sort of shocked horror.

“Well done!” Fíli cheered. “Looks like your sword skills need no practice.” Then he laughed, chiding Kíli. “She could have killed you, brother!”

Andréa’s hand trembled and she dropped her sword, her other hand covering her mouth as she knelt on the ground. “Sorry,” she breathed. She was shaking, the mental image of her stabbing Kíli in the chest too much to process. Her dream from the night before flooded her mind. Kíli dead in the forest. Then her father.

Kíli relaxed his muscles and sheathed his sword, concerned by her reaction. “You did well.” “Shall we move on to axes, then?” Fíli asked. Kíli offered a hand to help her up. She grabbed her sword and forced herself off the ground, unable to look either of them in the eye. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.” She sheathed her sword, still trembling, then retrieved her staff. “I’m sorry.” Shoulders hunched, she rushed past a confused Fíli with her eyes down, leaving the brothers standing alone in the woods.

Fíli sighed, looking over to Kíli with concern. “Seems that was of no help,” he conceded. Kíli rubbed the back of his neck, brow deeply furrowed. “I don’t understand her behaviour.” The older dwarf nodded. “She’s battling herself right now.” Kíli sighed. “No room for allies?” Fíli snorted and pulled out his sword. “Come on, I’ll spar with you.”

---

When they returned to camp, they were greeted absent-mindedly by most of the company. Bilbo looked over in confusion. “Where’s Andréa?” Kíli and Fíli raised their brows at each other. “She left to return to camp before we did.” Kíli said. Fíli nodded. “You haven’t seen her?” Bilbo shook his head. “No, she went with you and hasn’t been back.”

Bofur, who had overheard this, walked up. “Why’d she leave without you?” Fíli and Kíli exchanged a look, then Fíli shrugged. “She didn’t want to spar.” Bofur rolled his eyes. “You two are useless. I’ll go get ‘er.” He put his hand up, gesturing for them not to follow as he headed in the direction they’d come from.

Bilbo’s brow was raised in concern. “You don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?” Kíli frowned, avoiding Bilbo’s gaze. “She has her staff and her sword. She should be fine, even alone.” Fíli nodded, but Bilbo seemed unsure. Eventually, the three of them settled around the fire together to wait for Bofur and the backup wizard’s return.

---

When Bofur came upon Andréa, he found her sitting in a small clearing in the woods. The forest floor - usually dirt and decaying leaves for the most part - was a lush carpet of grass and small, white flowers, in a perfect circle around her. Given the staff at her side, he imagined she’d done this herself. As he walked closer, the honey-sweet smell of the blossoms overpowered his nose.

“Those are some nice flowers,” he commented in greeting. She looked up with a mild alarm from where she was sat, elbows on her knees, holding her necklace pendant. “Bofur?”

He walked over slowly and sat cross-legged in front of her in the flowers. “Can see why you’d prefer it out here to camp,” he offered. “Much nicer.” She wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not, but she was too emotionally exhausted to force a laugh. Bofur sat in (what was to him) a comfortable silence, taking in deep breaths of the sweet floral scent. Now that he’d found Andréa safe, he felt less annoyed at the boys for losing track of her.

After a moment she finally spoke. “Bofur… I think I should not have come with you all.” He considered what she said. “And why’s that?” She covered her forehead with her hand, laying her head in it, eyes closed. “All my thoughts turn to death.” Bofur was calm and spoke softly. “Whose death?” She took a long breath and sighed. “My father’s. I couldn’t help him.” She met his gaze, eyes wet. Her voice was barely a whisper. “What if I can’t help anyone? What if I watch you die, too?”

He nodded, his brow slightly low as he considered the question seriously. “You may, that’s possible.” He picked a few of the white flowers. “Though you’re certain to be of no use to the company if you leave.” “Aren’t you scared?” He reached a hand out to caress her cheek. “Oh certainly. We all are at times, lass. But we’ve a goal in mind, and a company to keep. So we must trust we’ll have each other’s backs.” He waited a beat. “I’ve always trusted you had ours. I hope ye know we’ve yours as well.”

She nodded, then covered her face, trying to stop her tears to no avail. “There, there…” Bofur moved to sit beside her and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into his chest and wept, no longer able to contain the feelings she’d been trying to suppress. “That’s it.” He wrapped his other arm around her and cradled her until she calmed down. “You jus’ let it all out.”

When she did eventually stop, she felt a calm she hadn’t in days. She pulled away to wipe her face. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled. Bofur shook his head. “It’s no bother. You feel a bit better now?” She nodded. “Thank you, Bofur.” “Any time, love.” She started picking flowers and braiding them together.

After another minute of comfortable silence, she turned to look him in the eye. “I’m really glad that you’re part of the company.” He felt quite touched by the comment and found himself surprised by it. “Thank you.” She finished her flower crown and put it atop her head. “I do want to help reclaim Erebor, but, more than that, I want to protect everyone.” Bofur started tucking the white flowers into his braids. “I think you’ll do wonderfully. I really do.”

She picked idly at the night phlox flowers. “Kíli and Fíli are helping me get better at battle.” Bofur nodded. “How is that going for you?” “Mostly well, but…” She frowned. “Today it was too much, and I more or less ran off.” He nodded, thinking back to the brothers coming back to camp without her. “Were they too hard on you?” She shook her head. “No, they were lovely. But I bested Kíli, and-” she fought back a pang of emotion. “There was a moment - it was just a brief moment, but…”

She mimed stabbing Bofur in the heart, her fist resting on his overcoat. “I hit him in the chest with my pommel and there was this look on his face, as though he thought I’d just stabbed him. As though… he was going to die.” She shook her head. “I never want to see that look on his face again.” Bofur let out a snort. “That’s natural. I don’t aim to see that sort of look on anyone’s face in the company.”

“It hurts.” She put her hand on her chest. “To care and worry over so many people at once.” “Mmm.” Bofur looked up at the moon. “The way I see it, you can let love make you weak, or let it make you strong.” She mulled that over. Can I find a way to have it make me strong?

Bofur started humming and then quietly singing. Andréa pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, closing her eyes to listen to the familiar song. “The world was young, the mountains green, No stain yet on the Moon was seen, No words were laid on stream or stone When Durin woke and walked alone.”

---

When Andréa and Bofur walked back into camp, they both seemed in good spirits. He patted her shoulder and broke off to join Bombur and Bifur where they’d set up. Bifur said something to Bofur, which prompted him to show off the flowers in his braids quite proudly, miming some effeminate gestures to top it off.

Andréa walked over to where Bilbo, Fíli and Kíli were sitting near the fire. She took a seat on the end, beside Kíli, and flashed them all an easy smile. Kíli noted the flowers in Bofur’s braids matched the ones that she wore as a crown and wondered where they’d come from. He took a deep breath of their sweet fragrance.

“Bofur found you.” Bilbo said with relief. “Yes,” she let out a small laugh. “Though I wasn’t lost.” She looked over to where Bofur was speaking with Bifur. Or maybe I was.

Fíli furrowed a brow. “Where did you go?” She looked into the fire and instinctively put a hand over her necklace. “Home. To pick some flowers.” Bilbo raised a brow. “Home?” “Not literally.” She tapped her staff. “Just a little taste of it.”

Kíli smiled warmly, tracing a finger over the pale blossoms in her hair. “Flowers suit you.” She looked over at him, holding his gaze a moment before her eyes glanced at his lips and then away. “Mmm… I wanted to say to you,” she began. “I haven’t felt myself since that last Orc attack. I’ve had dark dreams, and doubt in my heart.” She looked over her three usual companions, making eye contact with Bilbo and Fíli before settling on Kíli. “My apologies if I’ve acted strangely.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “To be honest, you always act strangely.” At this, she broke into a laugh, followed by Kíli, then Fíli. Bilbo smiled, relieved she seemed to be feeling better. She made eye contact with Fíli. “Will you show me the axe next?” Fíli nodded, happy to hear she wanted to train some more. “Of course.”

---

When it was time to sleep, Andréa set up her bedroll beside Bilbo’s as usual, and laid down facing away from him, toward the outside of their camp.

Just as she was falling asleep, Fíli and Kíli came over with their bedrolls and set them up beside the non-dwarves, so that Fíli was on the far end and Kíli was between him and Andréa. She watched as Kíli settled on the ground beside her.

He flashed her a soft smile when he caught her looking, and pulled his blanket over his body. As they laid in the dark, gazing silently at each other, she felt a now-familiar fluttering in her stomach. She found her eyes wandering over his features, lingering on his lips and then back to his dark, warm eyes.

He smirked, happy to have regained her attention, and watched as she fell into a swift sleep. He thought back to the rain the night before, and wished the rest of the company was not all around them.

---

Part 8 here

[pixie88]

Safe House

Damien Jones - Lovelink.

A/N | So it’s been a while since I done a Lovelink fanfic, but Damien’s return inspired me! This isn’t linked to my other Damien Jones fanfic.

Comments & reblogs welcome! Let me know what you loved and hated about this chapter!

I understand if you don’t want to be tagged so just pop me a message to be removed, but also let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Summary | Damien tries to make it up to Priya after ghosting her.

Find my other Lovelink FF HERE!

Word count | 2k

Warnings | 18 + Only! Angst, Fluff & NSFW.

Pairings | Damien x MC - Priya.

Disclaimer | Characters are property of Lovelink.

Enjoy!

It had been four weeks since Priya had heard from Damien, she had messaged him numerous times, but got no reply. She got that he was mad at her for not taking up the safe house he had offered her, but he should have also understood she didn't want to hide or have her independence taken away from her either. Bennie was still empty on his threat, she knows it was all about the thrill of the chase for him. Tony had kept her in the loop, so even if Damien wasn't talking to her, she still knew how it was going. Tony's case to appeal was getting stronger each day, but he was still searching for the final nail to close Bennie's coffin with.

Priya heard her phone ping.

Damien Jones sent you message on Lovelink.

She ignored it wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Three days went by her phone pinged every few hours with the same notification each time.

A couple of days later...

Priya's intercom started buzzing, "Hello?" she called down pushing the button. "Hi, I have a delivery for Miss. Priya Scott."

"A delivery? I haven't ordered anything!" she called down the intercom "It's from someone -- a Mr D Jones?"

Damien? She hung up and headed down the stairs to the front door. Opening it she was greeted by a big bouquet of flowers "Could you just sign here?" the delivery guy handed her his clipboard.

Once inside her apartment she pulled out the envelope inside the front is addressed to her, inside she pulls out a card and opens it.

To my beautiful Priya,

Into my world of darkness and silence you brought light and music.

When you lit the candle I began to see and understand the taste and texture of love for the first time!

This is me making it up to you, I love you with every part of me. I can wait to see you, Tony will be picking you up at 2PM today. See you very soon! All my love, Damien xxx

She looked up from his not to the ticking clock on her wall she had forty seven minutes to get ready. She raced to her bedroom to her wardrobe to find something to wear - It needs to say trainee lawyer! She pulls out a floral shirt and tight pencil skirt that shows off her curves. She hadn't seen Damien for over six months, suddenly she was feeling nervous, her mind was going into overdrive. What if he doesn't fancy me anymore? Video calling is one thing, but in person?!

She shook the thoughts from her mind as she applied her make up.

Later...

"Here's your ID! You know I can get into a lot of trouble for this, so I will remind you to remember you role. If you aren't consist they will smell a rat and Damien and I will be in very hot water and Bennie will be the last of your problems!" Tony says as they pull into the jail car park. He hands her ID "Lucy Brooker, Hi, I'm Lucy Brooker trainee lawyer for Tony...????"

"Tony Edwards! Come on lets go!" he opens his door and steps out of the car, Priya follows him repeating her name silently to herself. Lucy Brooker, Lucy Brooker, I am Lucy Brooker!

They made it through security without any hiccups, "Wait here and we will get your client!" they guard says leaving them in a room. This was it! She was finally seeing him in person after months of waiting. She couldn't stop smiling as they took their seats.

A few minutes later they hear the door behind them open and the rattling of chains follows before she catches sight of the bright orange jumpsuit. Looking up, she couldn't help blushing when she saw his gaze was solely on her, Tony stood as the guard uncuffed Damien. Following Tony, Priya stood too "Damien this is Lucy Brooker and Lucy, this is Damien Jones my client. Damien, she will be sitting in on our meeting today, I hope you don't mind?"

She knew this was all for the guards benefit "Nope, I don't mind at all. Nice to meet you Miss. Brooker!" he holds out his hand as the guard pats down Damien one last time before leaving the room. Damien takes the seat opposite and Tony pulls out his case file, but Damien eyes don't leave hers.

The smile on his face never falls telling her all her doubts were wrong, his gaze made her cheeks burn, she couldn't stop smiling. She hadn't even noticed Tony talking, neither had Damien until he snapped them both back into the room. "Damien, I know I brought Priya here to see you, but we need to go over your case!" Tony hissed.

"Yeah, of course! Sorry!" Damien teared his eyes away from hers and the pair both started paying attention to what Tony had to say.

But not for long, bored Priya started rubbing the back of Damien's leg with her foot under the table tearing his attention back to her. Each time Tony asked him a question he would ask him to repeat it or nod as if he knew what he was talking about. But Tony could only be fooled for long, "You know what I'm going to give you both some time alone, so you can get whatever you need out of your system and we can talk about your case with your full attention!!" Tony got up from his seat.

"Tony, the guard?" Damien called out stopping Tony in his tracks "I'll sort him!" he continues on his way. Through the small window they watched Tony say something to the guard who nods and walks away, pushing the door open slightly Tony pops his head through the gap "The guard has gone to lunch and I'm letting Lucy take the case over for practice...you have an hour! I suggest you get what you need done, so we can focus!"

He closes the door again as Priya turns back to Damien his lips quickly find hers, she moans as he takes her lip between his teeth. He pulls her up and pushes the table out of the way, his kiss becomes more fierce and needy. Her hands grasp the nape of his neck, he moves them both until they collide with the wall behind them.

She's trapped behind him and the wall behind her "God, I've missed being able kiss you!" he whispers against her lips, "I'm kinda hoping with an hour to burn we'll do more than kiss!" she smirks. He answers her question by unbuttoning her shirt, revealing the bra she had originally brought for the day he was being released. He groans looking down at the lacy fabric, his finger slips inside her bra tracing a line against her soft skin making her suck in a breath.

"Did you wear this for me?" he looks up at her, she bit her lip "What do you think?" she winks at him before he claims her lips again, her shirt forms a puddle on the floor. His hand finds the zip of her skirt and pulls the zip down, letting the skirt fall to the floor. Stepping back, his eyes roam her body like a predator ready to pounce, she pulls him back to her and gets to work on getting him out of his orange jumpsuit.

Which is proven difficult as his hand slips into her panties and brushes against her. As her head falls back against the wall, she spots the camera "Shit! Damien there's a camera!" she points to the corner of the room, he chuckles "Its a dumbie!" he says as he peppers kisses along her pulse line. He finally parts her folds, making her moan aloud "Fuck, Damien!" her hips buck into his touch.

He smiles against her neck "Jeez, you're already so wet!" he pushes his jumpsuit off his shoulders and lets them fall before stepping out of them. She pushes him away, his brows pinch together "You got to admire me! Now it's my turn!" her eyes run over his solid body. "Done?" he smirks at her, she nods before he captures her lips once more.

She pushes down his boxers until he's sprung free, a growl catches in his throat as she grasps round him, his forehead presses against his "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed about this!" she grins, "Oh, I do!" she says as she works against every ridge of his cock.

A dam broke inside him, he pulled her hand away, lifted her up wrapping her legs around him. With his next breath, he thrusts into her, a growl catches in his throat. He thrusts into her filling her, his pace starts off slow letting her adjust to him. He pulls away a little his eyes stare into hers with each thrust.

He groans, nipping her neck, her nails dig into his back as his pace speeds up "Harder!"  their moans fill the room, he hits the right spot which makes her clench around him. "We need to be quiet!" He pumps into her fast and heavy taking her to new heights, his nails dig into her skin at the back of her thighs.

Her lips move to his neck, she nips and sucks against his collarbone making him hiss as he thrust into her over and over again.

"Fuck..Priya!" he groans, she pulls his lips back to hers "Ohh....keep doing that, Damien!" He's reaching right where she needs him most. She grips his shoulders and moves to meet his pace, her walls clenches round him, "Come on baby! I can feel you want to come for me!" he whispers against her lips. She hits her high "Yes! Damien! Yes!" she cries out. "God Baby!!" he falls after her.

The pair pant trying to catch their breath, he slowly puts her down. Her legs are weak still coming down from her state of euphoria, "I love you so much, Priya!" he smiles at her "I love you too! Do you think we have enough time to try out the table?!" she winks.

Without answering her, he picks her up and places her back against the wooden frame "We better be quick!" he smirks down at her.

The desk begins to rattle as he takes her again.

Twenty five minutes later...

Priya is combing through her hair as Tony enters the room again "All finished?" he asked the pair, both of them blush nodding at him "Great! Now we can start talking about your case!"

Tony drones on for over an hour, Priya zones out recalling what happened in this very room and on the desk over an hour ago, unbeknownst to Tony his briefcase lays where she was as Damien pounded into her. Her breast were pressed against the very spot in front of her after he flipped her onto her front, she smirks.

Damien's chances were slim, but not impossible.

After that day Tony would bring her to see Damien once a week, but the deal was they spoke about the case first and then they would get their time alone. He was happy the couple agreed, or so he thought, but what he didn't see was the real reason why Priya decided to see next to Damien, it wasn't so she could get a look at the documents he was showing Damien, it was so the pair could play under the table.

Priya lost count of how many times she had to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning aloud as Damien worked against her clit or how many times Damien had to yawn to disguise a groan as she ran her hand against his length.

With each visit they got closer to the appeal with only a week left Damien had convinced her to go and stay with his friend, worried Bennie would harm her the closer the date got.

Finally, the appeal date was finally here, today was the day their future would be decided.....

@khoicesbyk​ @tea-me-kah​ @fortheloveoflovelink​