#@deanobingo

[anglophiletraveler]

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas!!

I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas!

*****

Well this little story turned out completely different from what I had in my head.  It was created for the Deano Bingo event!  Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

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Twas three weeks before Christmas when all through the PR firm, not a creature was stirring, but alas not to worry for there was one human, four gods and a vampire stirring merrily about.  Christmas music was playing in the background while Dawn, Ty, Olaf, Axl, and Mitchell were decorating the JPR office with Christmas decorations, while Anders stewed in his chair, trying to ignore all of it.  

Mitchell was carefully placing strings of lights on the tree.  This was his thing.  He was very finicky about how the lights were placed on the tree, which everyone has learned by this third year of Mitchell’s and Ander’s relationship, so they just leave him to it.  He looked over at Anders typing away on his computer, eyes squinting, still trying to think of what to get Anders for Christmas.  Usually he has most of his shopping done by now, but this year he’s stumped.  Dawn’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.

“Bloody hell! The ice pack broke in my cooler, so now all of my lunch is ruined!  Grrr my lunch is a dripping mess!  Bloody hell Anders!  I keep telling you we need a small refrigerator for the office,” Dawn was blaming Anders now.

Anders was still typing, “What’s that Dawn?”

“My lunch is ruined because my ice bag broke in my cooler!”

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that.  I guess you’ll have to get a new cooler,” Anders thought he was helping.  Dawn just shook her head at him.  But Anders tucked the thought away in the back of his mind for a Christmas pressie for Dawn since he drew her name for the family gift exchange.

“Here let me help you with that mess Dawn,” Ty went over and helped Dawn clean up the soggy mess.  

Anders looked over at his brother helping his fiance, “Oi Ty!  Is Mike coming over for this Christmas debacle that you people are making me sit through?”

Ty sighed, “No Anders, I think he went Christmas shopping with Michelle.”

“Chur, bro!  That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Anders was smiling now.  “Dawnsie don’t worry about your lunch, I’ve just ordered pizza for the lot of you.”  Anders got some happy grumbles at that.

“Hey, does anyone know what I can get Michelle for Christmas?  I drew her name and I have no clue what to get her,” Axl spouted out.

Dawn spoke up with a smile on her face, “Well I’m sure she can always use a new broom to fly on, I mean to sweep with!”

Everyone’s eyes got wide in shock that Dawn would say such a thing, but Dawn was rather proud of herself!

“Nice one Dawnsie!  I think you deserve a raise for that one!” Anders said.

“No doubt! That was awesome Dawn!” Mitchell was laughing.

Dawn smiled and nodded, “I do have my moments!” Then she was thinking, “Axl, I’m sure Michelle would love a gift card to that shoe store she loves so much!”

Axl smiled, “Aw yes! Thanks Dawn!” Axel looked around at everyone with a puzzled look on his face, “So just where is this family gifts exchange supposed to be?  Who is hosting this year?”

Anders quickly said, “Not it!  Mitchell and I did it last year.  What about you grandpa?  You hosting?”

“I don’t think my imaginary beach shack will hold everyone,” Olaf said.

Ty spoke up, “It’s Dawn and I’s turn at our place. There should be enough room for everyone, plus we have the back garden for the bar-b-que.”

Mitchell shook his head, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to warm temperatures and bar-b-que on Christmas Day.  Just not right.”

“Oh guys, I forgot, I brought my famous brownies along with me, so everyone dig in and enjoy!” Olaf pulled out the questionable brownies and put them on Anders’s desk.  

“Well in that case Mitchell, you and I better go pick up the pizza now, so we don’t get pulled over for use of drugs!  I’m going to pick up some coffee while we’re out, does anybody want some?”

Everyone raised their hands, so Mitchell took the coffee order before they headed out to get the pizza. Anders slipped his suit coat back on and grabbed his keys, “Right, so I hope this mess is done by the time we get back, and absolutely no singing fish or twerking Santa this year!” 

Olaf smiled to himself as Anders and Mitchell left the office because he just thought of what to get for the person whose name he had drawn in the family gift exchange.  

Anders and Mitchell were in the car buckling up when Mitchell noticed a smile on Anders’s face.  “What are you smiling about?”

Anders chuckled, “Nothing.”

Mitchell shook his head, “Liar.  I know you better than that, Anders Johnson.  What are you up to?” 

Anders tried to look all innocent, “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about John Mitchell.”  He leaned over and kissed his partner.  “Now, let's go, I’m starving!”

**********************

There were very few things in life that John Mitchell was anal about, and Christmas decorating was one of them, which took Anders totally by surprise. Anders could really care less, but seeing the beautiful look on John’s face while he was concentrating on every bit of ribbon and tinsel was worth it.  At the flat, there were beautiful wreaths on the doors, greenery roped on the balcony railing with red bows and white lights, Christmas scented candles scattered about, baskets of multi-coloured ornaments mixed with pine cones. Last year, Anders had talked Mitchell into getting a pre-lit artificial tree so that Mitchell wouldn’t have to obsess quite so much over the lights.  He still added a couple of extra strands of lights to make it perfect!  Mitchell also added just the right touch of silver tinsel placed in various places, but never, ever clumped together, just how his mum did it when he was still a wee lad. Their first Christmas together, Mitchell had convinced a reluctant Anders that they needed to buy an ornament for their first Christmas together.  Anders didn’t think they needed it since they weren’t married, but secretly he smiled whenever he saw it on their trees after that.  The couple had started collecting Christmas tree ornaments from the various places that they travelled to, and also started collecting Christopher Radko ornaments as well.  Anders had never been one to think about the significance of Christmas ornaments until his life with John began to flourish. When he was growing up they were lucky just to have a tree, never mind any special ornaments.  But the year John graduated from nursing school, Anders found a special stethoscope ornament to commemorate the accomplishment.  There was also a special ornament with their names on it along with the year it was bought, every year from the Make A Wish Foundation - that was Anders' idea, but he would never admit it.  

The one thing that John struggled with every year was where to hang their stockings.  He couldn’t never figure out the right spot for them since they didn’t have a fireplace.  Every year Anders tells him to give it up.  They’re big people after all and don’t need stockings anyway.  Last year John declared that if they ever move to a bigger place, it has to have a fireplace on it for the stockings.  But for this year, they are taped to the sliding patio door.

Early Christmas morning the alarm on John’s phone went off earlier than it normally did so that he could get up ahead of Anders and start cooking for the day.  He turned off the alarm and quietly rolled out of bed and slipped on some sweats and a t-shirt.

Mitchell was rolling out pie dough for the mince pie and apple pie that they would be taking over to Ty and Dawn’s place later. This always made John feel a little closer to his mum, all of the memories of her rolling out her pie dough, or cookie dough at Christmas time.  It was the one of the few times of year when she made everything extra special for her family.  By the time Anders woke up, the pies were baking and John was almost finished cooking a full Irish breakfast of rashers of bacon, big fat sausages, eggs, beans, mushrooms and toast.  Their first year he had cooked black pudding, but Anders quickly put a stop to that tradition!  Yes, John Mitchell was in his glory cooking Christmas morning breakfast!  

As he was plating the food he felt Anders arms around his waist.  John smiled and turned in his arm, “Morning love.  Happy Christmas!”  He leaned down to give Anders a tender kiss, but of course Anders turned it into a much longer kiss.  When they finally separated, Anders raised an eyebrow, “Happy Christmas, Love.  Everything smells delicious.  Look at all this food!  Bloody hell I’m going to be in a food coma before we even get over to Ty’s!  Are the pies in the oven?”

Mitchell handed his plate to Anders, “Yes they are.  They should be coming out in about 20 minutes, so let’s tuck in.”  They walked over to the table that John had set for them with a pot of tea.  Mitchell turned on some Christmas music and lit some candles on the table.  

“Ah yes, the one time of year I get to drink tea with my breakfast,” Anders lamented.  

“Oh it’s not that bad.  I bet deep down you even like it, not that you would never admit to it,” the brunette responded back.  John barely lowered his head and closed his eyes briefly.  Anders had noticed him do this before and wondered if he was saying a quick prayer of thanks.  “What are you looking at?  Tuck in before it gets cold now,” Mitchell scolded Anders.  Anders smiled at Mitchell.  “Now what are you lookin at?” Mitchell asked.   Anders shrugged, “Oh nothing.  I just think it’s cute when you use phrases like ‘tuck in’.  It sounds so Irish.”  John just rolled his eyes at Anders.

After breakfast, they both dropped on the couch. “Ta Mitchell, that was delicious, but I’m so stuffed.  I couldn’t eat another thing,” Anders moaned.

“Does that mean you don’t have room for mimosas?”

“No that does not! But you sit here, you’ve cooked all morning.  I shall go get the booze!” Anders managed to get up and grab the pitcher of mimosas out of the fridge and brought it over along with two champagne glasses. 

Mitchell picked up one of the snow globes that lived on the coffee table during the holiday and gave it a shake so that he could watch the small blizzard on ice skaters inside.  He had a small collection of three of them so far, but this particular one played music.  He wound up the key on the bottom to listen to it play ‘White Christmas’ while the ice skaters skated in a small circle.

 Anders stood silently while he witnessed the scene.  He knew John missed snow, especially around the holiday.  Their first Christmas together John was appalled at the Christmas BBQ that took place.  Anders cleared his throat so as not to scare John as he joined him, “Here we go love!  Two champagne glasses filled with mimosas!  A toast! To us and another wonderful Christmas because I have you in my life.”  The two clinked glasses.

“Aw Anders, that’s so sweet.  Thank you.  I love it when you get sentimental!” John said.

“Well please don’t let my secret out.  Shall we open pressies?” 

Anders had an excitement about him, and it made John curious.  He furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes, “What are you up to Anders Johnson?”

“Nothing!  I’m afraid I didn’t get you much this year.  I ran out of ideas of what to get a vampire for Christmas,” Anders tried to be serious but it was obvious that he was full of poo.

“Whatever, Anders,” Mitchell got up and brought over the gifts for the two of them to exchange.  “You know, love, every year you get harder and harder to buy for.”

“Oh nonsense, you just don’t try hard enough,” Anders was getting all cosy on the couch next to his lover.  “So how about you go first, open this one.”  Anders handed John a wrapped box that was so generic looking that it could’ve been anything.

Mitchell tried to shake it but didn’t hear much moving around.  “Hmmm, it’s not heavy.  What could it be, I wonder.”  He tore off the wrapping paper and then lifted the lid and discovered lots of tissue paper. Mitchell raised an eyebrow to Anders and pulled the tissue paper off to reveal a black kitchen apron with the picture of a fork with a large sausage on it, with the saying ‘When you put my meat in your mouth, you’ll want to swallow’.  Mitchell gasped loudly, “Anders!  What the fuck! I can’t wear this!!”

Anders was cracking up, “Sure you can!  It’s for when you’re cooking naked so you don’t burn yourself again!  Don’t worry, there’s another one under all that tissue.  I had such a blast looking at all of these aprons online, I couldn’t buy just one!” Anders was still giggling.

John dug through more tissue paper to find another black apron. He read it and then smiled, “Mr. Good Lookin Is Cookin, yeah I like that one.  I can actually wear it in mixed company, so thank you, baby.  Okay, now you open a gift,” he handed Anders a gift.

Anders unwrapped the gift which was obviously a book, but it made Anders start laughing right away, “Viking Cats!  There’s seriously a book on Viking cats!  That’s hilarious!  Look at these different poses they put these cats in!”  

“I know, isn't it funny?  I thought you’d get a kick out of it, babe.”

The couple were taking their time with their gift exchange, enjoying the holiday music playing in the background, drinking more mimosas and exchanging lazy kisses between them.  

One of the stockings had fallen down from the sliding glass door which got their attention.  

Ross looked at Anders, “Oh, I guess we forgot to see what Santa left in our stockings.”   He got up and picked up Anders stocking from the floor and sat back down.  Anders noticed that Ross’s hands were shaking, “Here, I guess you better see what Santa brought you.”  Anders stared at the stocking.  He noticed that it almost seemed empty.  He looked up at Ross and tilted his head, wondering.

In a soft voice, Ross asked “Babe, aren’t you going to check your stocking?”

Anders swallowed hard and reached into the stocking and felt something all the way to the toe of the stocking.  Anders gasped and closed his eyes.  He pulled the small object out and found a small box that was wrapped in Christmas paper.  He slowly unwrapped it to reveal a small blue velvet jewellery box.  A tear dropped on the box.  Mitchell had slid down on the floor on one knee and placed his hands on top of Anders and opened the box to reveal a platinum band with two square diamonds set down in the band.

John looked up into Anders’ blue eyes, and in a soft voice, “Anders, I love you with all that I am.  I want to spend eternity with only you. I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of our lives.   Will you please do me the honour and marry me and be my husband?”

Anders was stunned at first, although he didn’t know why, especially with the Christmas present that he bought for Mitchell.  He quickly wiped a tear from his cheek, and the god of poetry quietly said just one single word, “Yes.”

Mitchell gasped and his eyes quickly turned into those puppy dog eyes with tears in them.  He carefully removed the ring from the box and placed it on Anders’s left ring finger.  They both had a light hearted chuckle at the sight of the ring on Anders’s finger in front of them, like it appeared magically before their eyes.  John quickly grabbed Anders’s face in his hands and pressed a hungry kiss on his lips full of love.  John placed kisses all over Anders’s face as if he’s afraid that he will disappear.  

“I love you Anders.”  

“I love you John.  I can’t believe that you’re mine.  I can’t believe that someone loves me and puts up with my shit like you do.”    

Mitchell pulled back and looked Anders in those unbelievably blue eyes of his, “I will always love you Anders.  I’m yours and you’re mine.”  

Anders pulled Mitchell’s t-shirt off and ran his fingers slowly over the wide span of John’s muscled shoulders and chest of black hair.  It was as if Anders was seeing him for the first time.  He caressed his face in the chest hair as if he was worshipping the brunette.  It was obvious that emotions were running high, but not emotions of lust or raw sex.  They were emotions of powerful, enduring love and tenderness.  John pulled Anders’s t-shirt off of him so that now they were skin to skin, hands caressing each other until finally John picked Anders up in his arms and carried him back to the bedroom.  There may or may not have been a small squeak when John picked Anders up.  

************************** 

A couple of hours later, Anders and Mitchell lay in each other’s arms breathing heavily, eyes red from tears that flowed more freely than they ever did before, and bodies slick with sweat.  Even though they had reached more than one climax, they still couldn’t get enough of one another, still couldn’t keep their hands from each other, still couldn’t keep their lips from each other.  

Mitchell finally spoke first, “Mmmm, can we just stay here all day?”  He moved his leg over Anders’s legs to trap him.

Anders’s hand moved over John’s arse to pull him closer, “I wish we could but, if we don’t get moving soon, Axl will start calling us like the child that he is.”

Anders’ phone buzzed from a text.

“Just like that,” Anders said.  

Mitchell reached for Anders’s phone since he was closest, and looked at it.  “It says, ‘we’re ready’.  What’s that supposed to mean?”

Anders took his phone back from Mitchell, trying not to look like he was hiding something.  “Uh probably just that the food and everything is ready for us to get there.  We better get showered so we can go.”  He leaned over to lay one last, long kiss on John’s lips.  John grabbed Anders’ hand and kissed it where the ring now lives.  “Alright, you go get started and I’ll be right in.”

***********************

Anders and Mitchell were finally loaded up in the car with the pies and the gifts for the gift exchange.  Mitchell had a reindeer headband on that bounced around whenever Mitchell moved.  Anders was shaking his head at it, “Are you really going to wear that thing all day?”

“You betcha!  I bought you an elf hat.  You’ll look adorable in it!” Mitchell pulled it out of a bag to show Anders.

“There is no way in fuck that I am putting that thing on!” Anders pretended to be scowling.

“Aw come on, you’ll look so cute in it!  Like that one dwarf from that movie we watched the other night!” Mitchell was pushing it now.

The expression on Anders’ face turned instantly, “I do not look like a fucking elf Vlad!  Besides, it will clash with my new ring!”

John smiled, “Well, if you put it that way!”  He loved the way that Anders would look at it and watch the light reflect from it.  Finally John noticed that Anders was driving down a different street than where Ty and Dawn lived, “Hey are you lost or what?”

Anders tried to look innocent, “Hmmm, oh I just thought I’d take the scenic route.  It’s a nice neighbourhood, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.  All the houses are so new compared to what I’m used to in England and Ireland.”

Soon Anders pulled into the long driveway that was lined with overgrown trees and bushes.  Finally the driveway ended at a stone cottage.  It was obvious by the overgrown bushes and grass that nobody had lived here for a while.  

“Anders what are you doing?  You can’t just pull into someone’s drive like this! Turn around!” Mitchell was slowly starting to freak out.

“Oh bloody hell John, hold onto your knickers.  I just wanted to look at the house.”  He parked the car and started to get out.

“Anders!  Stop!  What are you doing!”  He saw Anders start walking around the house, looking in windows.  Mitchell got out of the car to go stop him.

Anders walked up to the front door.  “Let’s go inside and check it out,” Anders said.

“Anders, are you out of your bloody mind?  You can’t just walk into a stranger’s home!”

Anders looked at Mitchell and turned the door knob and opened the door, “After you, love.”

Mitchell gave Anders a weird look, but he went inside and Anders followed him in.  

Anders looked at Mitchell, “What do you think?  Do you like it?”

“Well, I guess… I”

Then all of a sudden the whole family jumped out and yelled, “Surprise!” at Mitchell.  Mitchell jumped out of his skin, and looked at Anders, “What the fuck Anders?”

Anders was laughing and handed a key to John, “Welcome home, love.”

Mitchell looked down at the key, “Bloody hell mate! You, you bought this place?”

“Well, technically we bought it.  But yeah, took me forever to find a house in Auckland that looked like it came from Ireland.  And oh, by the way, you jumped the gun on me with the proposal.”

“What do you mean?” Mitchell asked.  He looked around at their family all standing around looking at the two of them.

Anders dropped down on one knee and pulled a ring box out of his coat pocket, and opened it to a white gold, Celtic band with an emerald in the middle.  “Will you marry me, John Mitchell?”

John covered his mouth with his hand and turned around to look at the family waiting for an answer.  Then he looked at Anders, kneeling before him, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, you egg!”

Everyone cheered while Anders slipped the ring on the ring finger of John’s left hand.  They were both laughing so hard and kissing each other.  They finally clued the family in on John’s earlier proposal which made everyone laugh even more.  Unbeknownst to John, Anders had arranged to have the family Christmas gift exchange at their new home.  The couple walked into the family room so John, his mouth still wide open from the shock, could see more of the house.  John was staring at the Christmas tree, “Is, is that the Christmas tree from j:pr?”

Everyone laughed at Mitchell.  “Yeah we broke into the office and stole it so that there would be a tree here,” Axl said.  The room had a couple of card tables and chairs set up for the food and drinks.  Anders showed John the kitchen, “It’s going to definitely need updating, but Mike said he would help us out with that.”

John was running his hands over the counters and the stove with a big smile on his face.  

Anders took John’s hand, “C’mon, let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you the rest. Oi! Watch your head on the beams when we go up the stairs.”   

Mitchell started to go up the stairs, and instantly had to duck to avoid getting a concussion on the beams, “Bloody hell you weren’t kidding about these beams.  We will have to do something about that.”

Anders chuckled, “I told you babe.”

“There must have been dwarfs that lived here before.”

“Haha, very funny Vlad.  Okay so up here there are three bedrooms and one small bathroom.  Over here is the master bedroom, but I think there’s room to put a master bath in if we cut through the closet and maybe take a foot or two from the bedroom on the other side.”

John was looking at the master bedroom, and then the bedroom on the other side of it.  “I don’t know Anders.  I’m not much of a DYI guy.  Have you asked Mike about it?”

“Yeah, he seemed to think that it would work.  I’d like to work on this first, but the more I think about it, I think we should start with the kitchen and the bathroom downstairs.  What do you think?”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.  I still can’t believe you bought this place!  Anders, how did you find this house?  This has to be the oldest house in all of New Zealand!”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s definitely up there in age.  I just had the realtor keep an eye out for something like this.  This place just fell into her lap the day that everyone was decorating j:pr so I had to move fast.  Do you like it?”

John was shaking his head in amazement, “I love it!  I’m blown away that you were able to buy this without me knowing about it.” John leaned down to kiss him tenderly.  

“Well, don’t get too excited dracula. I did get this place pretty cheap, but that’s because it needs a lot of work,” Axl was hollering up the stairs for the couple to come downstairs.  “I guess we better get down there before they tear the place apart.”

John stopped Anders from leaving, “Anders, thank you for the house … our home…and for this,” he held up his left hand and then wrapped it around Anders’s left hand, “great minds think alike!”

Anders smiled, “I guess so,” he leaned up and kissed John one more time before they headed back downstairs.

Olaf handed them both a beer when they made it downstairs, “Happy Christmas to the wonderful couple and to the future Mr. and Mr. Johnson, or will it be Mr and Mr Mitchell?”

John looked at Anders, “Definitely Mitchell!”

Anders objected, “Oi! What are you talking about, I can’t change the name of my business, we have to be Mr and Mr Johnson!” 

John was shaking his head, “No fucking way Anders am I going to be John Johnson!”

Olaf jumped in, “Oh Anders, John does have a point.  John Johnson does not have very good vibes to it.”

Ingrid gasped, “I’ve got an idea!  Why don’t you two boys hyphenate the name!  You know, Mitchell-Johnson.  That way all issues would be solved!”

Mitchell squinted at Anders, “I suppose I could handle being John Mitchell-Johnson, if you can handle being Anders Mitchell-Johnson?”

Anders smiled at John and reached up to give him a long kiss.

“Ahh see problem solved.  My work here is done,” Ingrid was proud of herself.  

Axl came up with a plate of food, and a mouth full of food, “Oi! Mike says the food is ready and everyone needs to eat!”

Mitchell looked at Anders, “What? Mike is grilling?  Here?”

Anders smiled at his fiance, “Of course babe, it’s Christmas!  Oh which reminds me, we left the pies and the gifts out in the car, so we better go get those.”  The couple headed out to the car while everyone started eating.  

********************

Everyone was sitting around eating their Christmas bbq and laughing and enjoying the gift exchange that was underway.

Ingrid had Ty’s name, and gave him a gift bag which contained a gift card to a nice restaurant and a couple of tickets to a local play.  “Oh wow, thanks Ingrid.  Dawn and I will enjoy that!”

Ingrid smiled at her friend and former roommate, “You are most welcome.  I hope that you and Dawn enjoy the play.”

So then it was Ty’s turn to give his gift to the person he got, which was Anders.  “Anders, your gift is in your office.  It was too big to put in a box and wrap.”

“What is it and why is it in my office?” Anders asked.

It’s a small office refrigerator that you desperately need in the office!” Ty said.

“Oh I see, don’t you mean an office refrigerator that Dawn needs?  So that’s really a gift for Dawnsie.” Anders answered back.

“Well I think it’s a great idea Anders.  At least that way my lunch won’t get soggy anymore!” Dawn stuck her tongue out at Anders!

Next Anders got up and gave Mike his gift, “Merry Christmas Mike.” Mike looked at the envelope that Anders handed him and opened it, “Hmmm, a weekend away for two at the Paihia Beach Resort & Spa.  Just what I’ve always wanted.  Thank you Anders.”

Michelle came over and grabbed the gift card away from Mike, “Yes, thank you Anders!” Everyone laughed.

Mike had then handed Ingrid her gift which was a new purse, “Oh thank you Mike, I love it!  Am I safe to say that Michelle picked this out?”

“That’s a pretty good guess, Ingrid,” Mike replied.

Olaf went next since Ingrid had already given Ty his gift.  Olaf seemed very proud of himself, and handed Dawn a wrapped box.  “Thank you Olaf,” she unwrapped to find a new lunch cooler.  

A disappointed Olaf spoke up as Dawn unwrapped her gift, “I guess since Ty bought the office a refrigerator, you don’t need that for your lunch now!”  There was a collective ‘awwww��� in the room at Olaf’s thoughts.

Dawn tried to smile at Olaf, “Thank you Olaf, that was very observant of you.  And I will still use it to take my lunch to work in or whenever we go on a picnic.  So no worries, I will definitely use it!”  She got up and gave Olaf a kiss on his bald head to make him happy.

Anders had gotten up to get him and John another beer.  He came back and sat down in John’s lap and looked at him smiling, “You happy love?”

“I am very happy love,” John pulled Anders down for a long, slow kiss that of course was met with the standard wolf calls, and ‘get a room’ yelled at them.

Anders pulled back from the kiss, “Actually this is my room, and the whole house is our room, right dracula!”  Mitchell just shook his head at Anders.  They’ve been together three years and he still calls him dracula.  

The last part of the gift exchange continued.  Dawn had Mitchell’s name and gave him a large box to open. 

Mitchell ripped open the paper like a little kid and opened the box to find a new pair of fingerless gloves, and a beautiful white cable knit jumper.  “Oh wow Dawn, thank you.  It’s beautiful! I don’t have anything this colour.”

Dawn smiled, “I thought you’d look smashing in it!”

“I second that thought,” a smiling Anders said.  John looked in Anders’s blue eyes and could feel the heat behind them.

Mike walked over to the couple just as Anders was about to place another kiss on John, “So, Anders, Mitchell, just let me know what you need help with in getting this place ship shape, and I’ll help you out,” 

Mitchell cleared his throat, “Oh wow, thanks Mike. We appreciate that,”  

“Yeah, no problem.  What do you think you’ll want to work on first?” Mike asked

“Well, as much as we’d like the bedroom and ensuite done first, we think the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom should be done first,” Anders told his big brother.

“I can help a little bit.  I do know the right end of a drill unlike this guy sitting in front me,” Mitchell said.  

“Well, I’ll take a look at all the projects that you want done.  It probably makes sense to get the kitchen done first, but then again you don’t want to live in a construction mess forever in your bedroom.  I’ll let you know what I figure out,” Mike put his hand on Anders’s shoulder.

“Oh and let’s make sure Anders doesn’t go flying into a pile of lumber this time,” Mitchell had a sharp edge to his voice now.

Mike shook his head and walked away.

Anders walked over to whisper something to Ty and then came back to pull Mitchell outside so they could get away from the crowd.  He placed his hands on Mitchell’s face to lower him into a kiss.  When he ran out of breath he pulled away and sighed, “I love you for saying that to Mike.”

“Well, it needed to be said.  Everyone looks all cheery, warm and happy today, but I know how your family works, Anders, and how quickly they can turn on you,” Mitchell’s whiskey eyes had a bit of fire in them at the moment. “So no to Axl working on the remodelling.”

“You’re not going to get an argument out of me on that subject.  One slit throat is enough for one lifetime.  Anyway, my dear fiance, don’t we need to start planning a wedding date or something?”

Wrapped in each other's arms they seemed to be dancing to their own music, “Mmmm I like that.  When we get home we will have to look at our diaries and find a date where we can run up to the justice of the peace and exchange our vows.  Have I told you how adorable you are in your elf hat?” Mitchell leaned in to kiss Anders behind his ear, “You should wear it to bed tonight.”  

“I suppose that can be arranged.  I wish we could spend the night here, but with no mattress or anything,  I’m afraid the flagstone will be a bit bumpy and cold to lay on.”

Mitchell smiled back at Anders and pulled him back closer, “We’ll get plenty of opportunities to christen the house in all of the rooms.  I can’t wait to begin our new life together here.  Romantic dinners together in front of the fireplace. Oh Anders we can hang our stockings on the fireplace next Christmas!! Oh and we’ll have to get a dog and a cat.”

“What? A dog and a cat?!  Aren’t you happy with the fish?” Anders asked.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow, “It’s kind of hard to cuddle a fish.  Besides, now that we have this large back garden, we’ll have plenty of room for a dog.”

Just then it started snowing!   Mitchell held out his hand to catch some flakes and was laughing one of those beautiful, big laughs of his, “Can you believe this Anders?  It’s fuckin snowing! It’s almost like magic!”  He stuck his tongue out to catch snowflakes on it!   

Anders looked around John and noticed that Ty and Dawn were leaning up against the house smiling at them.  Anders’s eyes were sparkling and he had a smile on his face, “Well look at that! Snow in Auckland at this time of year.  It is almost like magic!  Merry Christmas, John.”

John’s eyes were twinkling like the stars in the night sky, “Merry Christmas, love.”  The two lovers stood kissing each other as the snow fell around them.  And to all a good night!

****************

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

Of Lions, Doves and Kings

This is my first creation for the 2023 Deano Bingo event. @deanobingo​

Fili x Reader

Warnings: Rated E 18+. Unprotected intercourse, power play, role play, dwarven lingerie, exhibitionism / semi-public sex

Words: 2634

Fili and his partner play out a fantasy that they both fine irresistible.

...

Fili had never wanted power. He had never wanted to wave his title over people to make them bend their knees or show off his wealth to the snobby nobles at council meetings. No, Fili did not want any of that when he became the crowned prince. He refused to give into greed and pride in the all-consuming way that tore apart his ancestors. But he was a dwarf. He was mortal. And he had weaknesses just like everyone else did.

That carved green stone that they called their throne was one…

You were the other…

And the glint of gold and ruby always a thrilling sight…

Not to mention that longing desire for freedom and rule braking that his uncle had tried to train out of him in preparation for becoming the crowned prince…

The aspect of getting caught…

It didn’t come as a surprise to you when he finally admitted his secret fantasy, the scene he pictured that would make him come undone in his own hands every time he allowed him mind to wonder. Him, on the throne of Erebor with his queen in his lap, bare and moaning loud enough that the guards could hear them on the other side of the mountain’s thick walls.

He had whispered it to you as he peppered kisses along your throat, his fingers traveling in and out of you under your combined coats, the company only meters away and completely unaware of your scandalous activities. He had made it sound so powerful, so delicious that you found it becoming one of your own favorite fantasies and a scene that the two of you played out often enough in the bedroom once Erebor was claimed.

Fili was a calculated and organized dwarf, always putting his responsibilities before his own needs, but when the opportunity to finally fulfil his wonton desire arose, he was powerless to fight it. So, as Thorin set off to the Shire for his honeymoon and his brother left for Mirkwood with his mother and Balin to organize negotiations with the elves, Fili was left in charge of the mountain. And boy did he used that to his advantage. 

You weren’t silly, you knew something was amiss. Fili, who was usually miserable whenever his brother was away, was far too happy to be heading to council meetings when he left you earlier and it made you nervous as you made you way to the throne room, the thin chains of lace and gold he had ordered you to wear this morning cold against your skin but safely hidden under you dress.

Heat had gathered on your cheeks and between your legs as you walked through the long halls of the mountain and it took every fiber of control to stop yourself from grinning like a fool. It wasn’t uncommon for your prince to steal you away from your duties for a bit of fun or stress relief, he had a thing for taking you in the hidden nooks and crannies of the mountain, places with just enough privacy but still with a risk of getting caught, but he had never asked you to meet in such an open spot before. Perhaps he had found a new hidden cave he wished to lead you too? Or maybe he simply wished to tease you some and claim you after you had stewed on it all day?

You took a deep breath and smoothed out the front of your dress when you arrived at the doors of the throne room, the guards giving you a sideways glance at your reddened face and jittery hands but letting you through with a nod. You smiled gratefully at them and snuck inside, your breath hitching in your throat at what you found.

Draped lazily across the throne sat your beloved, his eyes darkening as they landed on you. He was dressed in layers of expensive furs and luxurious robes. Rings and jeweled bracelets adorned his hands and wrists in a show of wealth and mithril was laced through the braids of his hair and mustache. What shocked you the most however, was Thorin’s crown resting on his brow. The crown of the king.

The rest of the ensemble while not his usual self could be brushed off, but wearing the kings crown could get him in serious trouble if he was caught. Especially while sitting so comfortably in the king’s throne.  

“Fili?” you gasped in instant understanding, nights of dressing up and roleplaying in the safety of your chambers flashing through your mind and making you clench your legs closed, “Are you mad?”

The golden locked dwarf smiled sharply, the dimples in his cheeks flashing, “Is that any way to speak to your king dove?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine and the heat in your stomach doubled as took you in with lustful eyes. He flicked his ringed finger and despite your lingering apprehensions, you obeyed the silent instruction, bowing your head and kneeling before the throne he sat in.  

“Good girl,” he purred in delight, the bulge in his trousers clear from were you kneeled, “my wonderful queen,”

You raised your head to meet his eyes and temporarily ignoring your fears in favor of your lust, you slipped into character, “What is it I can do to serve you my king?”

His face lit up at your willingness to play along, “It seems that your king is in the need of some company, so if my queen would be so grateful?”

“Of course you majesty, but surly such a mighty and powerful king would not allow his queen to be left on the cold floor for such a task?”

Usually when you played this role the cold stone floor of your rooms was covered in thick woolen rugs and soft animal hides, in this room however, your skin was growing cold and you knees already hurt.

“No, not at all,” he agreed with a shake of his head that made his beads clink together, “A queen should be sat upon her throne. Come up here, sit,”

Making a show of it, you lifted yourself from the floor and into his grasp as he guided you to his lap. Biting your lip as his hardened bulge pressed against your aching core, you rocked slightly as you made yourself comfortable against him.

Fili took your face in his hand and kissed you. It was rough and needy and he made no effort to cover his small growls and groans as your lips met. His free hand had made its way under your dress and was kneading the soft flesh of your ass as he pulled you closer, slipping his tongue into your mouth with a whine. For a moment you lost yourself in him, his taste, his touch, even his scent had you worked up as you rocked against his hips. 

Tracing your hands down his covered chest, you moved to undo his laces only for him to grab you wrists with one hand and hold you still.

“Patience my queen,” he whispered with a nip to your ear, “I have waited far too long, I won’t rush this,”

You stilled and he loosened his grip, bringing his attention to the ties of your corset instead. His quick fingers made light work of the strings and he took his time kissing and sucking along your jaw and down the side of your neck, slowly reaching lower with every inch of skin he revealed from your dress. You whimpered at his feather-like touches, arching you back to press your hips to his, desperate for some sort of stimulation against the burning between your legs. 

Fili nudged you up and slipped the garment over your head, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you in nothing but chains of gold and lace that hugged your flesh and outlined your breasts. You shivered as the cold air of the throne room hit your skin making your nipples harden and he groan beneath you at the sight. He left sloppy kisses down your left breast, drawing back with a wicked grin as an idea crossed his mind. You tilted your head slightly as you watched him part the chains of gold, kiss you sloppily again and blow gently.

You gasped at the sensation of his hot breath turning cold against the wetness of your skin and moaned as you shivered again. Your head tilted back and you squeezed your eyes closed, the feel of him chuckling a deep rumble in his chest.

Enjoying your reaction he sucked again on your other breast, this time using the metal to chill your body and make you squirm.

“Fili!” you shuttered begging for mercy.

He merely raised a bow and gave a quick pinch to your bottom, “How do you address me?”

“Y-your majesty! My k-king,”

“Better,” he purred before looking up at you, “Now what can I do for you, my queen?” he asked innocently, sending your head spinning as he thrust up against you.

“Please!”

“Please what my darling? Come now, a queen needs to use her words, doesn’t she?”

“Please,” you panted again, “Take me my King, I need to feel you,”

“As my queen desires,”

You watched him with fervor as he undid the rest of his laces and pulled his trousers down to his knees, his erection springing to attention, drops of pre-cum already leaking from its head. He removed nothing else, keeping his cloak and crown adorned, the feeling of fur soft in your fingers yet nowhere near as wonderful than the layer of blond fur that covered you beloved’s chest. He dug his fingers into your hips and ground his length against your soaked folds sending you both into a fit of moans and whimpers. 

“Fuck your perfect,” Fili groaned as he hid his face into the crook of your neck, placing sloppy kisses, bites, and moans. “So beautiful, so powerful. My queen, my treasure, are you ready?”

You nodded franticly, another high-pitched whine escaping you as he held you up and slid a finger through your soaked folds.

“Oh you are aren’t you dove, almost drenched for me. But I need you to do something for me ok baby?”

“Anything,” you begged trying and failing to rock against him as he held you still.

“You and I have a tendency to get very loud,” he chuckled, his own control waning at the desperation on your face, “but for now we need to be quiet ok? I’ve told the guards outside the door not to disturb us but if they hear you squeal they might come running in and we can’t have that, not yet. Can you do that? Can you be quiet for your king?”

You bit your lip, the thought of just how serious it would be if you were caught in this position ringing in your head.

Seeing your apprehension Fili gave you a gentle kiss, “we can stop now if you’d like. Head back to our chambers instead?”

“No,” you shook your head, your need outweighing your rational thoughts. You wanted this, to indulge in the fantasy that the two of you had grown and created together, “I can be quiet… maybe. You might have to help,”

“Don’t worry dove, I’ll look after you,”

Fili gave you once last look to make sure you were ok. Once satisfied he lined himself up and let you sink down onto him as far as you could, smashing his lips against yours to swallow any sounds you may make. Digging your fingers into the fur of his robes, and pressing your forehead against the cold metal of the crown that sat upon his, you lifted yourself and sunk back down again, your muscles relaxing and relishing in the feeling of his cock finally fully sheathed inside you.

Fili looked down at you, the pupils of his sharp blue eyes blown wide and his chest heaving as he struggled to keep quiet himself. For a moment the two of you sat there like that, simple savoring in the feel of each other and trying to even out your breathing. It was a loving and tender moment and as he began to rock, it became so much harder to keep in your moans. You reached up to kiss him again, his tongue hot against yours as your bodies began to move in sink. His movements got harder and faster as he thrusted up into you and as you tried your best to match his movements. His desperate hands gripped tightly onto your hips, pulling your cheeks apart to hit that spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

It was your turn to burry your face into his neck, biting down to keep you from screaming at the intensity that he was fucking you with. He let out his own broken whimpers, grasping at the gold chains in an attempt to bring you even closer still.

“When I’m truly king, I’m going to make you scream,” he snarled into your ear as your body shook and trembled around him, “I’m going to take you so beautifully, so perfectly that you won’t be able to stop. I’ll have your voice echo off these walls over and over again, the guards be dammed. They’ll be begging to touch themselves just from the sounds their queen makes as I pound her with my cock,”

You choked and babbled as you ground your hips, frantic to reach the high you were so close to, “Fuck Fili… ngh… please… so close,”

“Would you like that my queen?” he snarled, his hands shaking against you skin as his fingers slipped down to circle against your clit, “To let your people know just how well their King takes care of you? To hear just how pretty I can make you sing?”

The chains around your body clinked and your pants and whines seemed deafening in your ears as he thrusted into you, hitting that sweet spot that made your body explode in ecstasy and your walls clamp down around him. Letting go completely you opened you mouth to scream only for Fili’s thick, slick cover fingers to force their way in your mouth and muffle your sounds. He didn’t stop, continuing to ride you through your waves of pleasure until he reached his own, your overstimulated whimpering still stifled by his fingers against your tongue. 

He sent you a pleading look behind his long blond lashes and you sucked harshly as your muscles clenched around his cock for a second time. You felt him rupture inside you in hot squirts, filling you with his seed and painting your walls white as he tensed and relaxed in your arms with a low, drawn-out moan.

You fell against each other, spent and exhausted, your breaths hot against each other’s skin. Pulling you closer to nuzzle into you, Fili wrapped his cloak around your tired body and held you close, still safely incased inside you.

“Your majesty?” a voice called out as the sound of the door creaking open sounded around the room making you both freeze in place with wide eyes, “Is everything ok? I thought I heard-”

“We are fine,” your voice called back instinctively before the door could swing all the way open. You voice loud and dominant, speaking in a tone that echoed that of a leader and not at all shaking in the panic you were feeling, “you were asked not to disturb this meeting. Return to your post immediately,”

In a splutter of apologies, the door quickly slammed shut again and you let out a shaky breath.

Fili glanced down at you with a dazed look upon his face his cock twitching inside of you at your effortless authority, “My queen indeed,” he moaned slamming his lips against yours once more.

...

Tag List : @feeweeeee​

Please feel free to ask to be added or take off this list.

[blairsanne]

Spot the Difference

A little game for Deano Bingo 2024! Spot the 5 differences! ♥

[laurfilijames]

Act Normal

Pairing: Anders Johnson x female reader

Words: 5,619

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Use of a remote controlled vibrator. Cursing. Foreplay in the back of a cab. Oral sex (F receiving). Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Anders has a little more in-store for a night out at Dawn and Ty's engagement dinner.

A/N: Okay, I finally got something out 😅 Here is my first contribution for this year's @deanobingo Prompts used were Anders Johnson, dimples, and toys.

Gif credit to @blairsanne who is outstanding 💗

“Are you almost ready? I don't want to be late. Mike’s been breathing down my neck all day and I'd rather not give him anything else to use against me,” Anders called out from the bathroom, sliding the knot on his tie up to his collar and adjusting it, giving himself a once-over in the mirror until you walked in and his blue eyes locked on you.

“When is that not the case?” you asked with a smile as you clasped the back of your earring closed, completely satisfied with the way Anders was eye-fucking you already; your choice in outfit clearly appreciated by the gorgeous god you wanted your hands on so desperately.

Already having rushed home from work, you cleaned up and got ready as quickly as you could, leaving no spare moments for you and Anders to give each other the attention you both craved; the long day at work feeling even longer in knowing you had Ty and Dawn’s engagement dinner to attend immediately after, without the help of Anders sending text after text of all the things he wanted to do to you later that night when you would finally be able to be together.

“You look stunning,” he said, his tone low and serious, his eyes reflecting a dark lust that flooded the icy blue.

“I should hope considering this is the dress you picked out for me,” you purred, carding your hands up his back to rest on his shoulders, bringing the front of your body flush against his to press your breasts against him and drag your lips over the shell of his ear. “So if you're unable to control yourself tonight, that's on you Bragi, wanting me to wear the same dress I did the night you first fucked me.”

You watched his eyelids fall shut in the mirror, his chest heaving as he drew a long breath in through his nose, making the gratified feeling blooming within you grow even more in knowing how much he wanted you and how that would only increase more and more as the night went on; the quick session of morning sex to start the day only leaving him eager for more than just a brief taste of you.

“And don't think I ignored your other request,” you whispered before pressing a kiss onto his neck that radiated a fiery heat.

“No panties?”

You nodded your head in silent confirmation, watching as his smile grew to bring out the dimples on either cheek.

“Good girl,” he praised, the accolade making your arousal spike and a shiver break out over the exposed skin your dress neglected to cover.

“Now as much as I know you're enjoying teasing me, cruel as you are, I have one more request before we go,” he claimed, that familiar mischief present in his eyes when you met them again in the mirror.

“Anything for you, Anders,” you stated, confident to agree even without knowing what his wish was.

“Ooo, you might regret saying that,” he joked, sucking in his breath through pursed lips.

“You've never made me regret it before, why would I now?” you drawled, looking into his eyes with an innocence you knew he would work to erase as he turned to face you directly. “I trust you.”

The smile brought on by your words before he pressed his lips onto yours made your knees feel weak, and saying a silent prayer that for some reason the dinner would be canceled last minute, you eagerly returned his kiss, your hands gripping the lapels on his jacket to pull him closer while you leaned into him even more.

Anders broke your kiss, chuckling as he shook his head at you and shifted his legs, trying to get his hardened cock down one of his pant legs. "Fuck me, you are incredibly distracting."

With a swipe of your thumb, you cleaned up your lip gloss that got smudged, watching as Anders pulled open the vanity drawer and pulled out a small box.

"As I was saying," he glared at you, his smirk matching the playful look in his eyes. “I picked up a little something for us when I was out sorting their engagement gift.”

A self-satisfied expression dressed his face as he held the gift in his hands for you to open, and maintaining eye contact with him as you lifted the lid, you finally looked down to see what had him feeling so smug.

"You're wearing that all through dinner," he began, the humour in his voice not missed by you despite your shock and excitement. "And I'll be controlling it."

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, a wickedness hinting in his laugh, and you swallowed thickly out of fear and worry, wondering how you were possibly going to survive the night.

Anders plucked out a small, hot pink vibrator, equipped with a clit stimulator, tipping his head to the side in a taunting way as he all but dangled in before you.

"You bought their engagement present at the sex shop?" you quipped, knowing he didn't, but attempting to distract from his devious plan.

"What? No, fuck," he huffed. "I got them a weekend away in Marlborough just like we decided."

You grinned. "I was only checking."

"Oh, I am so going to make you suffer," he vowed, his eyes narrowing at you as he shook his head.

"You really want to have that in me, at dinner with your family?" you pointed to the device, your mouth watering at the same time you felt a nervous sweat break out on the back of your neck to help cool your rising body temperature.

"The night has to be made interesting somehow, beautiful."

You sighed, accepting your demise, your wordless defeatism making Anders almost giddy with delight.

"I'll be controlling it from an app on my phone," he explained. "And all you have to do," he closed the space between you, his lips hovering over yours, “is not come."

You melted into his kiss, knowing this was going to be nearly impossible with how horny you already were, and whined into his mouth as he slowly trailed the hem of your dress up your thighs.

Feeling breathless and panting against each other, Anders slipped his hand between your legs, his index finger, and then his middle one, pushing in your entrance where he dragged them in and out while the pad of his thumb circled your clit.

"I don't think you're going to need any lube," he claimed, removing his hand from you to replace it with the toy, making you cry out as you clenched around it and pressed your forehead against his in a plea for mercy.

"Let's test it out, shall we?"

A flush spread out over your entire body as you waited, chest heaving, as Anders retrieved his phone from his pocket and opened the app, glancing up from it to check your reaction while it loaded.

Your eyes widened as you watched his thumb move in a wide, circular motion over his screen, the toy inside your walls mimicking the action, making your knees instantly buckle and forcing you to squeeze your thighs together as you squatted on the floor.

His laugh echoed in your ears, and grabbing hold of the countertop, you began to stand up straight again until he hit whatever button that activated the vibrations on the piece that sat firmly against your clit, keeping you in that position.

"Christ's sake, Anders," you whimpered, feeling pathetic at how poorly you were keeping it together already.

"That intense, eh?"

You glared at him before rising up on trembling legs, smoothing your hands over your hair and turning to face the mirror to ensure your appearance didn't display the chaos you were feeling inside.

"I promise I'll be good to you," he said genuinely, staring into the reflection of your eyes in the mirror. "I'll keep you on the edge most of the time, but I won't do anything I know you can't handle," he assured, pressing his lips on your shoulder, and then up your neck so your skin erupted in goosebumps and your nipples hardened even more. "And when we get home," he explained lowly beside your ear, "I'll make it all worth it."

Anders was mostly behaved in the cab on the way to the restaurant, only teasing you a couple of times so you weren't forced to work too hard at pretending you were just an ordinary couple on their way to a nice meal with family; him having to stifle his laugh like a sneaky kid while looking out the window at downtown Auckland as you passed through, all while he played a not-so-innocent game on his phone.

He spared you during the greetings, not daring to do anything while you were in the middle of hugging each member of his family and saying hello, but as soon as it came time for you to take a seat at the table, he didn't miss his opportunity. Pulling your chair out with one hand as any gentleman would, Anders had his other in his pocket, drawing an erratic pattern on his screen, leaving your body tense and pausing mid-sentence as you plopped yourself down.

"Are you alright?" Dawn asked, reaching out to touch your arm.

"Yes, sorry, I'm fine," you smiled, shaking your head and looking at her warmly. "Sore back, you know," you brushed off, waving your hand dismissively, watching as Anders smirked and took his seat beside you, his hand gripping your thigh with a tight squeeze.

Leaning over, he kissed your cheek, and searching your eyes as he stroked your face lovingly with his thumb, he spoke in the warm, soothing tones graced to him by Bragi.

"Just act normal."

"Anders, could you please get off your fucking phone?" Ty hissed, his anger emphasized on one word in particular as he carefully whispered and darted his icy blue eyes around them, making sure no other patrons or wait staff heard his impolite request.

Anders glanced up from his phone on his lap, smiling until he noticed the scowl directed at him by Mr. Freezy and his soon-to-be Mrs, making quick work to wipe it off as he cleared his throat and faked his most sincere voice.

"It's work, mate, sorry," he lied, having been in the middle of changing the intensity on the vibrations that were wracking through your entire body right now, your elbows on the table and your hands braced on your forehead as you took a deep breath, trying to hold off on detonating.

"Which client?" Dawn piped in, equally as annoyed as her fiance and not for a second believing Anders was dealing with work while at their dinner.

"It's, you know, ahh…" he trailed off, picking up his wine glass and putting it to his lips, avoiding the question altogether as he turned his body slightly toward Axl on the other side of him.

Luckily no one seemed to notice you being out of sorts, the devious sport being played by you and Anders kept discreetly between the two of you, though the amount of times you had reached your breaking point was becoming too frequent.

"How are you holding up?" he leaned over, speaking quietly enough only you would hear him.

"I'm barely keeping it together, Anders," you sighed, looking at him pleadingly, pushing your meal around on your plate, your appetite for food completely replaced by such an intense appetite for lust and release.

"Do you think it's easy for me? Knowing you're a soaked mess with no panties on and so close to coming? Christ, I'm hard as a fucking rock right now, I wouldn't even be able to stand up."

"Poor you," you purred, your hand that wasn't holding a utensil trailing slowly up his inner thigh to stop at his cock that strained against his pants, the sensation making him jolt in his seat, wishing you could give him just a fraction of the torture he was providing you.

Anders gave a warning look, pressing his thumb down on his phone to send a long, drawn out barrage on your clit, your shaky hand dropping your fork on your plate with a clang.

He chuckled to himself, and despite it feeling like a huge disruption, everyone else at the table seemed engrossed in their own conversations, or distracted by Olaf who was rambling on about something oracular, leaving you and Anders appearing nothing more than two smitten lovers who kept stealing glances and subtle touches.

Dessert was served and toasts were made - champagne flutes held up to the couple everyone was equally thrilled to see engaged to be wed - Anders' speech full of sweet sentiments toward his employee but also laced with an undertone of insults; something along the lines of 'you make her happy so she no longer nags me as much,' and 'thank every god in Asgard she loves your mug 'cause I couldn't take any more whining from you.'

"You're a prick, you know that, Anders?" Ty scowled, unimpressed by the 'blessing' bestowed on them. "Considering you're the fucking god of poetry, you'd think you could come up with something a little nicer."

"My speech at the ceremony will be gag worthy, don't worry," he said, earning another twisted look from Ty. "On that note," he gripped the back of your chair and slid you out from under the table, "we have other business to attend to, so we'll be off!"

"You're not coming back to ours for drinks?" Dawn asked, the disappointment clear on her features, watching as Anders tossed more than enough cash on the table to cover your meals as well as all the drinks consumed by the party.

"Afraid not, Dawnsie. Very crucial that I see to this immediately."

Anders winked at you, placing his hand on the small of your back, and with a quick farewell, you were hurrying out the door and into a cab.

After sliding across the back seat, Anders followed and was on you instantly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek to hold you close to him so he could kiss you as fervently as he felt the need.

The address to his apartment was given to the driver between kisses, and with a glare from the unimpressed man through the rearview mirror, the car set off.

"I couldn't get us out of there sooner," Anders panted, leaning into you more and more, his knee parting your legs as much as your dress would allow.

"Do you feel bad for leaving?" you asked, your own feelings of guilt weighing on you.

Anders furrowed his brow and scoffed. "Feel bad? Fuck, no. Believe me, I have many things I should feel bad about and don't." He brushed his lips against yours playfully. "I'll add this to the list."

"You're horrible," you giggled, grinding against his thigh to put pressure on the device still seated inside you, making you shudder out a shaky breath.

"Yeah, and you love me."

"I do."

Your words seemed to encourage you both even more, sending you into a frenzy to get hands and lips on every available part of each other, until the driver slammed a little too hard on the breaks at a traffic light and forced you to stop.

"Oi! Can you two wait until you're bloody home and out of my car to do that shit?"

"Listen, mate," Anders began, his voice dropping as his powers took over, watching the man's eyes soften as he fixated on them in the rearview mirror. "Whatever happens in the back of this cab is none of your business, and your only focus is to be on the road and getting us home safely."

The cabbie nodded, and Anders clapped his hand on his shoulder, "Good man."

Turning back to you, he flashed a wicked grin as he outstretched one of his legs, trying to retrieve his phone out of his pocket, the fit of his pants making something so simple more difficult than it should be.

His dimples indented deeper in his cheeks as he settled back against the seat, waving his phone in the air for you to see.

"Don't think I forgot about this."

Squirming slightly, you took a deep breath to steady yourself as you waited for him to continue his teasing, and no longer ashamed to display your excitement, you moved to straddle his lap.

His blue eyes widened with a bit of surprise and wonderment, the slightly dominant act enticing him and making a boyish innocence wash over his previously confident face.

Moaning as you ground yourself on his bulge, he tipped his head back to fall against the seat, leaving you the freedom to roam his neck with your lips like you had wanted to all night, the smell of his cologne warmed from the heat of his skin.

But just as quickly as Anders lost himself in your distraction, he snapped out of his stupor and blindly found his phone on the seat beside him, his fingers swirling a deranged pattern that was copied by the toy, your gasp made audible as your mouth pulled away from his neck.

Regaining his control over you, he gripped your hips and flipped you so you were back to sitting on the worn leather, your shoulders pressing against the door. He crawled between your legs, his hand smoothing up your calf, and when he passed the bend in your knee and continued up the back of your thigh, your head thudded against the cold window as your eyelids fell closed.

Another pulsation rocked through your core, your whole body tensing as it tipped on the edge of a prohibited climax, the sound of Anders chuckling maliciously forcing your eyes open again.

Dimples greeted you once more as he smiled against the inside of your leg, his lips searing a trail closer to where you needed him.

Feeling maniacal, you proceeded to ignore your surroundings, Bragi's power working not only on the driver but seemingly on you too in order to make you partake in such a blatant act of exhibitionism; the intense need you felt to either rip the phone out of his hands to use to finish yourself off, or to simply have him fuck you in the back of the cab brazenly winning over all other thoughts.

He activated the toy again, both the internal vibe and the portion that rested snug against your clit at the same time, resulting in a shudder rippling through you from head to toe.

It ceased, right when he knew you would break, gracing you with a moment of reprieve before swiping his screen again.

"Anders!" you whined, the ability to withdraw from such gratifying pleasure fading with each taunting blow.

Stopping his onslaught, Anders captured your chin with his hand, holding it gently compared to the look he stared you down with, his eyes moving up from your heaving breasts to meet your inebriated, tortured gaze.

“I can smell you,” he whispered, placing a haste kiss on your lips before releasing your face and dipping his head to kiss your neck, and then the crest of your breast. “How aroused you are…" he muttered, his lips pressing onto you through the material of your dress, your stomach flinching as he contacted a ticklish spot. His breath was hot on your hip as it fanned out on the seam between your leg and torso, nearing your core, his mouth leaving a wet stain on the fabric as your scent made his mouth water. His fingers dug into you, his effort to avoid succumbing to such wanton desires disappearing with each tick of the fare meter.

"Fuck, it's so good!” he hissed, the slightly angry tone in his voice strained through clenched teeth spiking your frenzy tenfold as you raked your fingers in his hair and pushed his head further between your legs.

The car came to an abrupt stop, thankfully outside your destination, prompting Anders to sit up and run a hand over the stubble on his face before lifting his bum off the seat to take out his wallet.

Tossing enough bills onto the front seat to cover the trip plus more, Anders thanked the cabbie as he slid out ungracefully due to his erection and over-charged state. "Cheers, mate. You're a legend!"

He extended his hand and pulled you easily from the back, giving your ass a firm smack as he chased you up the stairs and through the glass door, the distance to his flat from the lobby seeming too far than was fair, especially considering he took advantage of it by triggering the toy as much as possible between each door.

Anders unlocked the door, opened and then closed it again before slamming you into it, his hands gathering your dress at your hips to ruck it up over your ass while your fingers tore at his buttons frantically and ripped open his shirt. Backing away from you to shrug out of it completely, he took hold of his phone again, watching as you squeezed your thighs together against the door, being able to see the vibrator in action as it assaulted your clit adding a whole new level to his cruel game.

"Anders, please!" you begged, slapping your palm against the wall beside you when he finally let up on the device.

"Come over here and stop me, then," he challenged, backing up into the kitchen where you followed willingly, his amused smile fuelling your determination to wipe it off his face.

The moment you closed the space between you, Anders lifted you onto the island, and unfastening his belt and trousers, stood between your spread, naked legs.

He kissed you fiercely, his fingers catching in the straps of your dress until he tugged them down your shoulders, your dress left bunched up around your waist, your breasts and sex exposed for him to do as he pleases.

Hooking your fingers in the band of his expertly fitting briefs, you whisked them down to meet his pants in a pool around his ankles, his cock springing free with an alluring bounce.

Crying out as his fingers found your core, you clenched around both him and the vibe, feeling full and beyond the point of holding back any longer, your hips lifting to rock against his hand momentarily before he gripped the obscenely coloured device and removed it from you.

"Mmm, you're so fucking wet," he hummed, his downcast gaze as he turned the vibrator over in his hand providing you a view of his long, golden lashes, the heaviness of his lids hinting at the weight of lust burdening him.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes widening in surprise as you watched him place the toy to his lips to give it a crude suck, his eyelids falling closed and brows cinching together as he tasted your slick, the wag of his cock not going unnoticed as it flexed with endearment; a nod to your impeccable flavour.

The toy bounced past you on the granite countertop, landing somewhere behind you after he tossed it carelessly once satisfied with its use, his eyes darkened with a ferocity you knew all too well as he hungrily glanced over your waiting body.

"I want more," he demanded, slipping his hands beneath your thighs to drag you to the edge of the counter in one swift motion, the momentum causing you to lay flat on your back as your lower half was being suspended in the air and only supported by him.

Your breath shook as he lifted each of your legs onto his shoulders, his eyes as blue as a flame as he hovered over your sex, and finally he gave you what you had been starved of all night.

His moan reverberated through your body, his hands tearing at your flesh eagerly as you clawed at the hard surface under you just as much, your arm shooting out to the side and accidentally sending a wine glass still holding the remains of a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc from last night to the floor with a crash. Anders' appreciation and worship of you never turned stale, and as you dug your head into the granite in response to the enthusiasm of his ritual, you allowed yourself to plunge in the bliss he was spoiling you with; free now after such making such a sport out of your denial.

Never holding back from letting you know how much he was enjoying this too, Anders continued to hum and moan his appreciation, the neediness for his own release vocalized and sending you into a tailspin, the sound of your desperation mixing with his creating a manic symphony; each swipe of his silver tongue and suck from his convincing lips amping up what was already too much stimulation.

You ground against his face, his stubble adding to the plethora of unearthly sensations, and at the moment you peaked, Anders drove two fingers into your walls that began clenching around nothing, hooking them to massage your g-spot while flicking your swollen bead with his tongue. Dragging out your climax, he pulled your clit between his lips with a firm suck, continuing to berate you with his fingers until your whole body shuddered and eventually relaxed, your mewling dying down to quieter, shorter breaths on account of such immense relief.

The warm light from the overhead pendant made his face glisten as he rose from between your shaking legs and stared you down vehemently, his want for his own pleasure to be sated only increased exponentially by having participated in yours.

It always made your heart flip, never seeing him rush to wipe you from himself - his mouth or otherwise - and as he licked his lips now, his eyes slowly closing as he inhaled deeply, you felt a tingle scurry from the base of your skull to your toes that softly hit the floor; the greed in wanting more brimming dangerously as it followed closely on the heels of what you hadn't yet recovered from.

He was a sight to behold, standing before you proudly but with a sense of impatience as if he had been the one that was edged and perturbed all night; his mortal vessel radiating a godly glow that left you no doubts about his divinity. His skin had a sheen to it, his sweat catching in the thick expanse of curls that trailed down from his chest to his cock that was impossibly engorged and leaking from the tip, and a low growl resounded from him as his belly and chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

It made you smile, seeing him so affected by you, your excitement bubbling up through your stomach in realizing that this session lacked any real physicality up to this point.

His dimples flinched as he clenched his teeth together, his eyes fixed on you as he watched you find the zipper hidden in the side of your dress that was covered by the upper half folding over it, and once it was undone, you let it slip off your curves to the floor.

You smoothed your hands over your naked form, trying to entice him even more although it was completely unnecessary, your skin responding to your touch so sensitively with how charged you still were. Finding your nipples between your fingers, you caught Anders taking hold of his cock to stroke it before you blinked your eyes shut, his irregular breathing encouraging you to explore yourself further.

As you brought your fingers to your folds, Anders' raspy voice cut through the air, his proximity to you now surprising as he stood before you, his hand wrapping around your wrist to guide you in putting more pressure on your tingling clit that made you gasp.

"You still want more?" he chided, almost in a challenging tone. "I don't know if you can handle that…"

His lips brushed yours gently before his teeth captured your bottom one and tugged it, his hand moving yours harder against yourself as he increased the rhythm of his own hand on his cock, pumping it furiously so that his fist nudged your stomach with each pass.

"Please fuck me, Anders," you whined, arching your back so your breasts rubbed on his chest.

"Is that what you want? To come again…around my cock?" he asked, biting back his moan as the sweetest sounding one passed your lips.

"Because you've been such a good girl," he purred, accentuating the two words he knew would turn you into even more of a pleading mess, "I reckon I can."

When you responded with a shudder and moved your fingers faster, he chuckled viciously, even with knowing he wanted it possibly more than you did.

"How do you want me?"

Your voice sounded strangled and almost foreign, being laced with so much lust it seemed unrecognizable to you, even though he'd coaxed this tone out of you on more than one occasion and would a thousand times more.

"Turn around," he barked, unable to play these games any longer.

Doing as you were told, you turned around and bent at your waist, your arms bracing on the countertop, looking back at him over your shoulder with a smolder in your eyes you knew he couldn't resist.

Anders shook his head, your ploy to tempt him further not impressing him as he lined up behind you and ran his hand up your backside too gently for how he was feeling.

His weeping head nudged against your folds, and leaning over you so his body flattened yours closer to the island to gain better access, he peppered kisses across your shoulder blades.

"You looked so beautiful tonight, gorgeous. You did so well for me…"

You whimpered and pressed your hips back, trying to get him to breach your entrance fully, feeling as though your legs would give out beneath you when he finally did.

The difference in size between him and the toy felt drastic in comparison, but with a few drags in and out of you, you adjusted to him, the intoxicating pull in your core making your eyes blur as the hot pink vibrator laying forgotten near the kitchen sink became out of focus.

Anders didn't refrain from taking from you what he needed, smacking against you wildly as he chased his end, having held off for so long already taking its toll on him.

Hearing his grunts of effort change into an amused laughter behind you, your own lips curled up in a delighted grin, your whole body tingling from affection as he praised you.

"You feel so fucking good, you have no idea!"

Keeping his pace, Anders slammed into you with more calculated thrusts, his head hitting that sweet spot inside you that made you barrel faster toward a second point of bliss, his sack swinging forward to hit your clit with just the right amount of contact to draw you even closer to climax.

"Anders!" you cried, desperate for another release.

"That's it, baby, come for me! I'm right there with you," he groaned, his smile decorating the sound of his words. Reaching around you, he found your clit, strumming his fingers against it as if you were an instrument, coaxing the most beautiful music from you that only encouraged him on.

Lewd, wet sounds mixed with his unhinged laugh and your wails that became increasingly louder as he successfully tossed you into the throes of another orgasm; the utter glee that Anders found in carnal pleasures unabashed.

You tightened around him, choking him until he stuttered and growled as he pulsed inside you, the noises he made equally as shameless as he surrendered to his pleasure.

Your eyes remained closed as you worked at steadying your breathing and returning your heart rate to normal, the sound of Anders doing the same resonating in your ears as you sighed out sedately, now able to register the cool temperature of the countertop compared to the heat radiating from you as your fingertips splayed over it.

Pulling out of you as he began to soften, he chuckled with satisfaction, watching your combined spend spill out and leak down your thigh, the mess making you shuffle your legs together as you stood upright.

His hands landed on your waist while his lips teased the dewy skin on your neck, the scruff on his cheeks and chin making you shiver and lean back against his chest. Turning you around to face him, his eyes seemed to glow as he looked at you; a brightness enhancing them that made you want to do whatever it took to pull that expression out of him all the time.

"Was that worth it?" he smiled against your lips, leaning in to kiss you multiple times, the playfulness he'd exuded all evening not lost.

Smoothing your hands up his back, you scratched through his hair at the base of his neck, combing your fingers over his scalp until he tipped his head back and groaned with delight.

"It definitely was."

Guiding his head forward using your hands, you kissed him hungrily, melting into him again as he met the swirl of your tongue with matched fervor, his voice a low rumble when he broke away from you.

"Good. Now, come on, I'm taking you to bed."

Anders took hold of your hand and led you to the bedroom, glancing over his shoulder to flash a terribly mischievous grin along with his dimples that told you your night was far from over.

---

Taglist:

Everything:

@guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeeee @missihart23 @fortheloveofdurin @i-am-still-bb @roobear68 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @legolasbadass @spngingerbread21

[lostaroace]

My contribution to the Deanobingo2023

April 2023 had been my first time participating on a creative bingo. These are the works I’ve made for the Deanobingo2023 organiced by @deanobingo​, @laurfilijames​ and @blairsanne​ 

The Almighty Johnsons

Anders Johnson x Fem!Reader

“Beware of the dragon” -- Tumblr | AO3

“Use your words” +18 -- Tumblr | AO3

Anders Johnson x Fem!Original Character

“A deal with Hades” -- Tumblr | AO3

The Hobbit 

Fili

“The aftermath” -- Tumblr | AO3

“Battle scars” -- Tumblr | AO3

Fili x Fem!Original Character

“Lion and Fire” -- Tumblr | AO3

Wanted (2016)

Will Johnson x Fem!Reader

“Screw bad days” -- Tumblr | AO3

Young Hercules

Iolaus & Hercules & Jason (Friendship)

“Time travel to Terra Mítica” -- Tumblr | AO3

[silvermoon-scrolls]

DeanoBingo is drawing to a close for this time. Thank you @blairsanne and @laurfilijames for a very fun event! It has been super fun being spoiled with so much great fics and art from everyone that participated.

I’m proud that I managed to score bingo on two of the cards! Especially the General card because I didn’t think I was gonna make it.

All my contributions can be found here. 💙

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Umbrel-love

@deanobingo, @laurfilijames...My daily upload today is for you!

Words: 1k

Prompt: Can I borrow that?

Character: Barnaby

Warnings: Trauma

Barnaby didn’t like most people in his therapy group—most were loud and abrasive and not in the least worried about the weather.

Often, they would even tease and mock him as if they were not here for very comparable reasons, but he tried not to let it get to him.

“Barnaby,” a quiet voice greeted as a fleeting shadow slid into the room behind him—Marlène. She had never once said an angry or discouraging word to him, mainly because she didn’t like to speak to other people and, thus, was considered safe and agreeable by the nervous semi-widower.

“It’s going to rain,” he informed her as she moved towards her usual seat without looking up from the floor. “Better be careful.”

“I like the sound of the rain,” she replied softly, “I find it soothing, but—then again—I usually don’t leave the premises and I wouldn’t want to be caught in it.”

“Right you are,” he said and sat down on the chair beside her. His wife had been taken very ill, as was to be expected in a horse of that age, and his brother had to take her away to a clinic in another city; ever since, Barnaby’s anxiety had spiked and thus, he had agreed to go to group therapy twice a week.

Marlène dug her fingernails, blue polish today, into the sleeves of her cardigan while squeezing her eyes shut with so much vehemence that her whole face seemed to crumple up.

“How are you today?” he asked cautiously; he did not even expect an answer—she had spoken more than she usually would already, and he knew that it would not do to overtax her before the session had even started.

Nonetheless, he liked to sit by her side and watch her sway slowly and rhythmically—Marlène was kind, she was good, and he felt a little soothed himself by her steady, reliably cooky presence.

Marlène hummed—an unmelodious, hacked-off sound—as if to drown his words out.

Just at that moment, the therapist walked in, and the group fell silent until it was their moment to share their worries, sorrows, and fears with the others.

By the time the session was over, the dark clouds Barnaby had been observing so worriedly all morning had burst into a sudden but exceptionally violent rainstorm.

“Would you like to stay here for a while?” the therapist asked cautiously, being only too aware of his main phobia. Moreover, she knew that he usually took a taxi to the facility and—as his brother was away with Barnaby’s ailing wife—there was nobody who could have picked him up in a way that would not trigger a major breakdown.

“I probably should, shouldn’t I? Yes, I should…” he muttered frantically, his eyelids twitching and his lips quivering with barely contained stress.

“Barnaby,” the same soft, effaced voice resounded, “do you want to come to my room and look at my things?”

The therapist froze; Marlène suffered from a generalised anxiety disorder that made it impossible for her to live alone because she turned out to be patently unable to interact with other people on a daily basis. This was the first time she had ever expressed the wish to be in the company of someone else since she had been admitted to the live-in part of the therapeutic centre.

Thus, the world seemed to stop in its tracks—a woman who had to be coaxed into attending therapy, eating meals, and going to bed had just invited another person out of her own free will.

“Yes,” Barnaby simply said; he could no longer stand in the middle of the corridor while the rain was battering on the roof just overhead as if it was trying to tear the whole building down in its destructive wrath.

Marlène had talked about her things—novelty objects and priceless gadgets her family sent in lieu of actual visits—in therapy and he had ever been mildly intrigued by them.

Thus, he followed Marlène to her room—a spacious chamber on the second floor—where she drew the curtains to muffle the sound of the howling storm.

“I thought you’d appreciate these two,” she said tonelessly and—opening a large wardrobe—extracted a small headband onto which a tiny umbrella had been attached as well as a huge umbrella that opened in the opposite direction and had tiny LED lights on the inside.

“You can turn it on—it’s as if it was a tiny sky,” she explained, her hushed, tremulous voice almost drowned out by the distant rumbling of the inclement weather.

“Can I borrow that?” Barnaby asked, a hint of despair and panic lingering in his tone still.

“Sure.” Marlène mustered up a watery, vague smile. “As I said, I rarely leave the premises. I am…”

“I understand,” Barnaby said and tapped his fingers thrice against the frame of the bed; he had learned that she didn’t like to be touched very early on in their acquaintance and so they had elaborated this code instead. Barnaby would touch whatever furniture was closest to him—three taps were a pat on the hand, four a pat on the back, and five were worth a full hug.

The storm was still screaming its rage outside and Barnaby twitched nervously.

“Let’s sit on the floor by the bed,” Marlène recommended without looking at him. “We can gather the blanket and I can hum to distract you?”

With a grateful smile she didn’t see, Barnaby accepted her offer—in the end, he almost sat in her spacious wardrobe, mountains of clean clothes and bedsheets piled around him and her LED-specked umbrella raining soft light onto his twitching face.

“Thank you,” he muttered as his fingers finally unclenched a little around the handle of the totally unnecessary umbrella.

“You’re welcome,” she replied sleepily, curled up into a tight ball of loneliness and misery on the other side of the rug. “You’re nice.”

Barnaby pried off one hand and tapped his fingers against the open door of the wardrobe. One, two, three—thank you—four—for sheltering me—five—and for being my friend.

I could not let April end without some kind of ficlet for my darling.

Lots of love from me

[iolausian-fields]

Selective Memory

Fandom: Young Hercules Genre: Action/Adventure Warnings: Violence and emotional distress on par with the show. So pretty mild. Words: 6k

For @deanobingo using the prompts Amnesia, Protective and Accidental Hero

Summery: After a nasty hit to the head Hercules can't remember who he is anymore and Ares isn't slow to take advantage of the situation.

-

Hercules blinked his eyes open to the sight of an overcast sky. He was lying flat on the ground, he realized with mild confusion. He was contemplating the fact that he had no idea how he had ended up there when a worried face framed by a mop of dirty blond curls filled his vision.

“Are you okay?” the worried face asked.

“Huh. Yeah, I think so.” He was aching pretty much all over, but it was a dull pain – nothing that felt life threatening. “Are you?” he asked in return. The boy hovering over him had soot all over his face and he smelled of smoke.

“Yeah, yeah. I got out on time. Horses too.”

“Horses?” Hercules asked, confused. He carefully managed to sit up and the world didn’t spin quite as much as he had feared it would.

The other boy gave him a weird look. “Yeah… Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked doubtfully.

Realizing he was under persistent scrutiny, Hercules tried to discreetly look around for any clues as to what was going on but finally gave up. “I don’t quite remember what happened,” he admitted reluctantly. Saying it out loud made the lack of memories seem more ominous somehow.

Continue reading on AO3

[2shuang]

【Dean】 【Mark】 off to the races

Happy deanobingo!!!

BGM: off to the races

[aideans]

Welcome to the aideans blog!  We exist to support and encourage the fandoms of the various Aidan and Dean character pairs. There is no rpf here.

Currently, we know of the following active blogs:

Britchell

DeanoBingo

FililovesKili

GatheringFiKi

HMS Darkhawk

Ioluke

theotheraideans (rare pairs)

Know another?  Send us the info and we’ll update our list.

***********

Event Info:

If it’s an event that involves an Aidan/Dean ship, we will signal boost it here. If we miss your event, please tag us.

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

My Fish Dawn! My Fish!

This is so stupid but I love Anders and was so upset when Ty killed his fish. I also love the platonic relationship between Anders and Dawn. @deanobingo

Platonic Anders and Dawn

Warnings: Drunk Anders and dead fish pets

Words: 1648

Anders drunkenly calls Dawn over and she tucks him into bed.

Tonight, however, was not one of those careful nights he was out parting or softening up a new client.

After a day of Frigg hunting that turned out to be a major bust, finding Thor who was as mad as the hatter, a date with a goddess that left him high and dry and a fight that left him in the bad books with his grandfather for breaking his surfboard and with a swollen and bloody nose that made his head pound every time he breathed, he figured he could use a drink. A strong one.

After a day of Frigg hunting that turned out to be a major bust, finding Thor who was as mad as the hatter, a date with a goddess that left him high and dry and a fight that left him in the bad books with his grandfather for breaking his surfboard and with a swollen and bloody nose that made his head pound every time he breathed, he figured he could use a drink. A strong one.

His rotten day got even worse when he finally made it home, went to grasp the handle of his fridge to grab a beer, only to find it wasn’t there.

Honestly at that stage he wanted to give up and go to bed, and he would have, if he hadn’t glanced at his fish tank and spotted not only that his fish were gone, but they had been replaced with a packet a fish fingers.

He couldn’t help the tears of frustration and exhaustion that welled in his eyes and the sob that broke through his throat. Letting out a horse yell that would probably mean a noise complaint from his neighbors in the morning, he kicked off his shoes and dove into the first bottle of alcohol he could find.

Not even an hour later and he found himself sat on his couch with nine different empty bottles scattered on the table in front of him, still in a foul mood. Admittedly, not all of the bottles had been full when he found them, but some of them definitely had been, and he jumped six feet in the air when knocking came from his door.

Anders squinted his eyes at the sound and looked about his apartment, his mind long gone and his vision spinning. When the knocking sounded again, he stumbled to the sink to peer down the drain determined that was where the sound was coming from.

“Hellooo,” he called out snickering as his voice bounced down the piping, “Why are you banging?”

Someone shouted his name this time and leaving his sink be, he once again stumbled around trying to find the source. When he finally made it to his door, his fingers hit the intercom hard enough to make the screen glitch.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, his speech slurring and his brows frowning. He really didn’t want to deal with people right now.

“It’s Dwan? You called me? Told me to get here right away?”

He didn’t remember calling Dwan but the sound of her voice made him grin, his mood improving instantly knowing that his favorite mortal was here, even if she was a sick in the mud at parties.

“I’ts Dawwwwwwwnsyyyy! Hello Dwansy,” he sung, opening the door with a grin.

“Yes, hello Anders. What did you need that was so important?”

“Important?” he echoed with a nod of his head, linking his fingers with hers and pulling her into his apartment lightly, “Oh yes, very important,”

“Yes Anders, what is important?” she urged him on, slightly concerned at his strange behavior, “You said I needed to get here right away or you would fire me,”

“Fire you? The fuck would I fire you for? Dwansy is awesome, and cool and a lot nicer that surfboards or brothers,”

Dwan blinked as she watched her boss sway around his living room. She took in how disarranged he looked compared to his usual self at the office, his hair messy, his shirt untucked and lines of dried blood ran down the front of his shirt that she assumed was from the same thing that caused the painful looking busing on the bridge of his nose. He had empty bottles scattered around the room and a packet of fish fingers scattered across the floor, the carpet around them darkened by the damp puddles of water they laid in.

“Anders?” she questioned again, her voice softer this time and laced in concern, “Ander are you ok? What’s going on?”

“Brothers are bastards and my nose hurts,” he pouted, reminding her of a child who had missed their nap, “And the sink keeps knocking on my door,”

“Your sink keeps- what?”

“There’s someone in my sink Dwan and they want to steel my chips,” he declared gesturing to the scattered fish fingers laying on his carpet.

She had to cover her mouth with both hands to stop from losing herself in laughter, “Anders how much have you had to drink tonight?”

He gave her a sheepish grin, “Just a little bit, but there’s some left here if you want some, I’m good at sharing, especially with pretty ladies,”

“And there we go,” she sighed at his flirty behavior, “lets get you to bed hmm? I think you might feel better in the morning,”

He stopped glaring down the sink and sent her a scandalized look, “Dwansy, so forward, didn’t think you had it in you. Well done!”

With an irritable groan, she took a step towards him, stopping short at the small white mini fridge that stood in place of his usually fridge, groaning again at the realization that Ty had not replaced his fridge as he had promised, instead using the opportunity to mess with his brother instead. As much as she wanted to side with Ty however, the sight of Anders stumbling around his apartment in a dunked daze made her soft.

She wrapped her hands around her boss’s shoulders and slowly lead him to his bedroom, soothing him like he was a wild animal that would take off at any second if spooked. Anders had started mumbling to himself again, a frown on his face as she sat him at the end of his bed and untucked the covers.

“Dawwwwwnsyyyy,” he sung again with a giggle that she would forever blackmail him with, “Dawwnsyy what are you doooooooooing?”

“Putting you to bed you silly thing,” she huffed, slapping his hands away and undoing the buttons of his ruined shirt. Anders held a breath and leaned away from her, a worried look on his face.

“No, no wait. I love you Dwansy but I don’t- we can’t- I don’t screw crew Dwan,”

“What are you talking about?” she muttered, pushing him down and pinning him to the mattress to stop his squirming.

“Dwan, really!” he pulled away again, his blue eyes wide, “Please, you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna ruin that with a quick one nighter,”

“I’m not trying to fuck you Anders!” she huffed, ripping the rest of the buttons open and peeling it from his torso, blushing despite herself at the sight of his soft tummy and course blond hair that covered his chest and thickening where it disappeared into his pants.

“Oh,” he stared blankly at his ceiling, his body instantly relaxing under her touch and lifting his arms over his head to help her get the material off, “that’s good then I suppose,”

Dwan sighed again and maneuvered him up to his pillows, tucking him under his covers and watching as he snuggled down into them. It took a moment before she thought about what he had just said.

“Do you really see me as your best friend Anders?’

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I guess.” He nodded, his voice becoming shy compared to the usual cocky and arrogant attitude he wore, “I’m a bit of a dick sometimes you know, but you never want to hurt me for it. Your one of the few people I can really trust,”

Dawn couldn’t help the way her eyes watered at the way his voice sounded soft and defenseless, his striking blue eyes staring up at her like a lost puppy.

“Oh you silly, silly man,”

“Dwan?” he questioned, tears filling his eyes and making her heart clench painfully in her chest, “Dwan, my fish are dead,”

“Oh Anders,” she sniffled, sitting down next to him and running her fingers through his hair affectionately, “I’m so sorry,”

There was a pause before Anders wiggled his way towards her and laid his head in her lap.

“I really loved my fish Dawn,”

“I know,”

“There was this orange one, I called him orange,”

She hummed still stroking his curls, not even surprise at the obvious name.

“And there was this other one, a really pretty blue one, I called him Sir Edward Armond Snicket the third,”

“Oh why am I not recording this?” she chuckled to herself as he continued to drunkenly list and name the silly little guppies from his tank. He listed them all, not missing one, and as he rambled on about the next thing his intoxicated mind attached itself too his voice began to slur and slow down. Soon enough he was letting out soft snores as he snuggled deeper into her lap, dead to the world.

She gave him one last glance over, lifting him and slipping out of his sleeping grasp, before sneaking out of his bedroom.

He was her boss, and a dick. But past all of that he was a soft and gentle soul. A little lost, but overall kind, protective and fragile.

She flicked off the lights and left his apartment with a smile, a plan to head down to the pet shop in the morning to buy him a surprise.  

[blairsanne]

Deano Bingo Wordsearch

[laurfilijames]

Home

Pairing: George Lowe x female reader

Words: 1,166

Warnings: Unprotected intercourse (not described), nudity.

Summary: George is home after being away for weeks in India, and the weight of missing him carries on even after your reunion, especially knowing he will be leaving again to try to conquer Everest.

A/N: I was away from home for 10 days and it physically hurt how much I missed my man, so this was written with some very fresh, first-hand feelings.

The series Hillary takes place in the 50's and I realize that pre-martial sex was frowned upon but it's me so we're going with it.

Prompts used for @deanobingo were Aftercare, "Don't move", and George Lowe

Photos courtesy of @blairsanne (I couldn't choose just one because LOOK AT HIM so there's another photo at the bottom of that beautiful face)

---

“I missed you,” he breathed, his quiet words reverberating softly enough it seemed like only your incomplete heart could hear them; cradled in your chest where his lips rested now, his beard scratching against the surface as if attempting to uncover it. 

You held George closer - as if possible - still feeling that ache deep within you even though you had no reason to miss him anymore; the time apart proving almost too much for you to bear. 

“I missed you too.” 

You spoke into the mess of soft curls atop his head, carding your arms around him as though you would melt into him if you did, the need to be as close to him as possible for as long as you could overwhelming. 

His breathing slowed beneath your palms as they smoothed over his warm back, the pattern evening out to contrast from how laboured it was only moments ago, and as he looked up at you it was hard to tell if his cheeks were tinted a reddish hue from his earlier efforts or from the sun reflecting on the blinding snow to cast a burn that lingered on his weathered skin. You traced your finger over the bridge of his nose, taking in the face you missed staring back at you so much it physically hurt, earning a smile that warmed you through despite feeling like an inferno already. 

His beard had thickened since he had left, but not enough to hide his dimples when he grinned like that, the colour a rich auburn compared to his hair that had been bleached by the elements which gave him a warm, sunkissed glow that matched the sheen that coated him from your lovemaking.  

The scent of him hung in the air around you, so potent now you'd been without it for too long, yet so familiar there was no way you could ever forget it. To indulge in it more, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, prompting him to wrap his arms around you to keep you flush against his body. George took his turn in running his rough hands up and down your back, caressing you as much as he had throughout your entire reunion so far, his lips moving to press gentle kisses on your neck and collarbone. 

As he began to soften within you, you shifted your hips on his lap, moaning faintly at the sensation of his spend leaking out of your over-sensitive sex. George locked his arms around you tighter, preventing you from moving, shushing quietly in your ear. 

"Don't move," he whispered, knowing he needed to stay near you as much as you needed the same, the weeks-long trip to Nepal weighing on him more than he had let on. 

“Can we stay like this forever?” he murmured, his voice muffled as he kissed along your jawline, his beard tickling you each time his lips moved. 

“Please,” you answered, still feeling so desperate for him you could cry, relishing in the way he engulfed you in his strong arms. “I'll go out of my mind when you go to Everest.” 

Your admission came out strangled, dreading another stint that would be longer and more dangerous than this last one. 

He sighed heavily, applying a gentle squeeze with his arms around your middle. 

“Just one more, I promise,” he assured you, kissing your cheek while bringing his hand up to cup the other side, turning your head to face him again. “I have to do this.” 

His look was pleading, searching your eyes with his flaming blue ones, and burying your selfish desires for him to stay home, you nodded, knowing you loved him too much to get in the way of fulfilling his dreams. 

“I know.” 

"Until then," he smiled gently, his eyes bright in knowing he had your support, "I intend to make up every moment I've been robbed of you." 

You smiled against his lips as he kissed you, his chuckle vibrating through his chest onto yours, and you wished that not even the everyday tasks like eating and drinking would interrupt you from hiding away together until he had to leave again. 

The movement of his lips slowed, gradually fading out to brush ever so lightly on your moistened, swollen flesh, and parted from you to look at you seriously. 

"I hope you know how much I love you," he spoke, his voice hoarse and holding a heavier tone than it usually did. 

"Of course I do, George."

Your fingers found their way into his long waves again, smoothing them back out of his face as they threatened to fall in his eyes, and with a kiss on his forehead, his features cracked into an easy smile. 

"I love you, too," you vowed, holding his face in your hands so his soft beard tickled your palms, bringing him into a meaningful kiss. 

When your kiss broke, George cleared his throat, almost nervously, and not making eye contact with you, he spoke quickly.

"Marry me?"

"What?" you blurted, convinced you misheard.

"Will you marry me?" he repeated, finally looking at you, his blue eyes slightly wet. "I-I mean, I don't have a ring to give you, or money to buy one but-" he stammered, his eyebrows rising with the pitch of his voice, his head shaking quickly from side to side like he was dismissing the idea as absolute ludicrousy. 

"All I have is this," he continued, blinking at you as he leaned over to the bedside table and plucked a small, circular piece of material from it. 

He held it up between your bodies, revealing a strand of what appeared to be from the shoelace of his boot that had been tied at both ends to form a ring, and smiled weakly with a shrug. 

"I made it one night on the mountain when I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"It's perfect," you exclaimed, feeling your heart pummel the inside of your chest wildly. 

"Is that a yes, then?" he asked, waiting with bated breath for your answer, his hopeful pools of blue dancing frantically in the lamplight. 

"Yes!"

He laughed heartily and gave an excited shout, wrapping his arms around you tightly to squeeze you like a vice, his joy unmatched. 

Still chuckling as he sighed out, George took your left hand and carefully slipped the worn string around your fourth finger, his cheeks red and round as he beamed at you. 

You rubbed your fingers together to shift the material, amazed at how it felt wrapped securely around your ring finger and even more in awe at how such an ordinary piece of nothing symbolized so much. 

"Maybe there'll be diamonds at the top of Everest," he chuckled again, his cheeks twitching as the disappointing reality of that hope set in. 

"I don't need diamonds, George," you assured, thinking it impossible for a woman to value gems above the unconditional love of a wonderful man. "I just need you." 

---

Taglist:

Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeeee @missihart23 @fortheloveofdurin @i-am-still-bb @roobear68 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @legolasbadass @spngingerbread21

[lostaroace]

Lion and Fire | Fili x Original Character

My Fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Fili x OC | Background Thorin x Bilbo

Rating: Mature (just in case).

Content Warnings: canon divergence, everybody lives/nobody dies, the Durins are bad at romance, fighting tournament, misogyny (we’ll fight against it).

Summary: When Thorin tells Fili that Dáin has offered to introduce him to his goddaughter Maen and that expects them to get on good terms and, maybe, end up married, Fili decides that he’s going to hate her. Little does he knows that she’s not only beautiful, but she’s also smart and strong. He expected to be the one with an opinion on the matter, yet she confessing that she won’t marry him hurt his pride deeply. 

Word Count: 8012

Also available on AO3

This work was created to be part of the Deanobingo2023 event by @deanobingo​ It fills the Character Card with Fili and the General Prompt Card with Hurt/Comfort.

Lion and Fire | Oneshot

It's common knowledge among dwarfs that less than a third of their population are females and that pregnancies and deliveries are highly complicated and dangerous, therefore their children and dwarf ladies are cherished and cared for. However, a young dwarf lady in the Iron Hills turned the tables by giving birth eleven times, always quickly and powerfully. Among those eleven babies, seven of them were females. Those rarities gave the family high recognition among the population of the Iron Hills up to the point in which king Dáin pleaded for the couple to be the godfather of their youngest.

Their fame allowed them to marry their first daughter to a well-off smith. They loved each other, of course, but if the daughter hadn't been the first of eleven children the possibilities of marrying someone with a better position and income than them would've been remote at best. She gave the smith five children, four of them females, and two of them in one go. There was no such word in khuzdul for siblings that shared the womb although, in the common tongue, it was 'twins', apparently.

The success of that union helped the second daughter marry the son of the head of the guards. That was an impressive jump. Four wonderful daughters followed their marriage and the rumor of the magic of those dwarven ladies spread.

As the siblings of the youngster kept growing and marrying, she rolled her eyes with disgust and complained when her family insisted that because of the gift they obviously had she was meant to be kept indoors learning how to knit, sew, cook, and work in other small works like woodwork for tools or toys, and metalwork for jewels.

"Maen!" she heard her name being called and stopped in her tracks. Comically slowly, she turned her body to face the voice. King Dáin was looking at her with an arched brow. "What are you doing in the armory? Again."

"I rather not answer that, sire."

Shit. She shouldn't have said that because then the piercing look of Dáin noticed the axes she had tucked in a blanket. He sighed and approached the twenty-seven-year-old, "We've talked about this, Maen. You are a lady and–"

"I can fight as well as any other dwarf!"

"That's not the point. The point is that female dwarves are so scarce that the danger of the battle would reduce their number and it may cause our extinction."

Her frown and the fire in her eyes made Dáin smile. That young dwarf was like a daughter to him and he couldn't resist the pride swelling in his chest due to her determination.

"Very well. You'll be trained," her eyes lit up. "But do not expect any help just because you're the goddaughter of the king. You'll face the training like the others and if you fail you'll retreat."

"I won't fail!"

And she didn't. In fact, Maen became the best warrior of her generation. She was fast and strong with great coordination; her oldest brother-in-law forged her axes, sword, and knife with extra care. Maen's family had not taken greatly Dáin's decision to allow her to learn how to fight and smith among other things, but her bright smiles and good mood pushed them to accept it and help her the best they could.

Nevertheless, she grew up and the perspective of her marriage was smothering. Being the last of the sisters in line for marriage awakened a dark monster among the Iron Hills' population as every single male dwarf, despite their age, sent their intentions of courting the young dwarf once she was of age. Dáin cut that nonsense when the harassment became increasingly dangerous and he stated that whoever put his hands on his goddaughter without her proper consent would face a death sentence.

Kind of luckily for Maen, the year she became legally suitable for marriage was when the company of Thorin Oakenshield reclaimed Erebor successfully with the help of Dáin's army in their last moments. Not many people knew that Maen had an influence on Dáin's political decisions, but she did. When Thorin's letter begging for help arrived, she started thinking about the war machines they could carry to the Lonely Mountain to face the dragon, yet Dáin refused and put his foot down in that decision. She didn't let the topic drop, though, and thanks to her the Iron Hills' army was ready to part when Thorin's cry for help arrived. She had overpowered Dáin's stubbornness with her own.

The battle of the five armies was bloodshed. She fought back to back with Dáin and his second in command. Maen killed with both hands, not stopping until all their enemies were down, even if her arms were hurting badly or if her armor was soaked in blood. Once the battle had been won, Dáin looked at her across the battlefield and nodded highly pleased with her performance. Maen was a warrior and that day she proved to her fellow dwarfs that if they wanted to court her, they had a long battle ahead.

Prince Thorin and his nephews had been badly injured, but not deadly, which was great news for them. Winter was upon them and they had a decision to make: either they went back to the Iron Hills leaving the Oakenshield Company and the men of Laketown to their own volition, or they stayed trying to help and tending their own injured warriors.

Maen accompanied Dáin to the meeting with the elven king, Bard of Laketown, the wizard, Thorin, and a hobbit. While Dáin took a seat, she stood behind him with a hand carefully placed in the grip of her sword. She listened quietly while the discussions developed. The elven king was being a royal ass, Bard was a great leader, while Thorin and Dáin were being stubborn dwarves unable to see the privilege of a short alliance with the elves as they were able to provide them with food for the worst of the winter; no more than three months.

She cleared her throat when everything was starting to get ridiculous and Dáin closed his mouth immediately. Maen felt Thorin's eyes on her, but she didn't say anything, she didn't even move. Dáin sighed leaning back in his chair.

"Fine. Fine, you're right. Before the roads become intransitive, I'll send the healthiest injured dwarves back to the Iron Hills with word of sending back some of our resources for the winter. In doing that, we'll reduce the number of people in need in Erebor," Dáin conceded to everyone's surprise.

Gandalf studied Maen as if he was able to see through her soul.

"We need a place to stay as the dragon burned Laketown and Dale is inhabitable just yet. However, we understand that our number, although reduced after both the dragon attack and the battle, is still an inconvenience for Erebor and Mirkwood. I propose to divide our number and if you have room for us, king Thranduil, some of us would go with you, and the others would stay in Erebor, if possible." Bard was diplomatic and careful with his wording, but he wasn't giving any alternative. His people needed help and he was going to get it, he was willing to bend but not to break.

Maen fought her need to smile, but Dáin could sense her good mood and nodded to the man.

"Cousin, what are your thoughts? I haven't seen the mountain yet."

"I– I have not explored it in its whole. I do not know the extension of the dragon's damage," Thorin explained.

Bilbo, the hobbit, twisted his nose, looked around the table, and pressed his lips together before finally deciding to speak. "Um… I did. I came and went. Not much, really. I didn't want to get lost. The mountain is huge," that seemed to please Thorin. "There are a few large rooms whose structure is sturdy and it could keep all of us safe and such. Um… It might be like camping, but inside the mountain, though. We might need to build some tents inside to isolate and keep the warmth close to us because those rooms have very high ceilings."

"Huh… It can be done," said an old dwarf with red clothing and a white beard. Balin, if Maen remembered correctly, had been standing between Thorin and Bilbo's chairs, listening and not really talking, until now. "The forges were almost destroyed when we fought with the dragon inside, but the fire is still working and I'm thinking we might be able to use the old calefaction system. We can also get some fires in those rooms. And if some of the Iron Hills' dwarves are staying, they can guard the delicate parts of the mountain."

"My people would be under your orders, cousin, don't fret. I could go back if you don't need me here."

"We have a solution there. That's interesting," Gandalf noted with a controlled tone. "However, there's also the need for food. Even if Dáin gladly sends something from the Iron Hills, it wouldn't be sufficient."

"The lake is not incredibly far, but fishing can be dangerous depending on the weather," Bard explained.

"And Mirkwood is still dangerous to go hunting there. Plus, is farther than the lake," Bilbo pointed out.

"I guess there's no other option but to help you. However, if you expect this help to be–"

"It must be free or it wouldn't be 'help'," Bilbo spat with cold politeness.

Maen smiled then before biting her bottom lip. Thorin had seen her reaction and he looked at his cousin searching for answers as she had not been introduced at the beginning of the meeting.

"It's not like we can starve, and–"

"Then you must keep all the men in your realm," Maen cut him piercing his iced eyes with her own brown ones.

Dáin smiled smugly. "She's right, elven king. If you won't help the men that stay in Erebor, then you must take care of more of them. I'm sure I could take all my healthy dwarves and only leave here the badly injured ones, plus the company. It would be much easier for the Iron Hills to aid less than thirty people than three-hundred."

Thranduil was about to make a smart remark, but Gandalf's soft chuckle made him keep his mouth shut. His son, prince Legolas, accepted the previous conditions in his name. He was about to leave for the north, but he had stayed by Gandalf's plead to help with the negotiations.

"Beorn had offered to provide Erebor with flour and honey before the paths got cut due to the weather. If your majesty needs some aid with those ingredients, I'm sure he'll–" Gandalf was cut sharply by Thranduil dismissing the offering.

"We'll be ready to settle in half of the men. I'm sure some scouts would be able to hunt for the ones remaining in Erebor to survive the winter."

"Thank you, king Thranduil," Bard nodded to him.

With everything solved for the moment, the dwarves exited the tent with the hobbit. Bilbo seemed to have taken great interest in Maen, as he was glancing at her but trying to be subtle about it.

"May I help you, Master Hobbit?" She inquired with a playful smile.

"Oh! I'm… Uh… It's just, I…"

"The little guy must be intrigued about what's a dwarven lady doing here, are you not Mister Bilbo?"

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Most females don't do war, as it's supposed to be extremely dangerous."

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her, "It is extremely dangerous."

"Funnier than knitting."

"This is my goddaughter, Lady Maen, the Fire of the Iron Hills. I did not have time to introduce her before, cousin. She's responsible for our quick answer."

Confused, Thorin looked at her. "I kept pushing Dáin to come to Erebor and help you with the dragon. We were about to go out of the Iron Hills when the news arrived."

"She's a handful, cousin, a handful. Although, I have a proposal to make you," his tone and the fact that he was wrapping an arm around Thorin's shoulders made him tense.

"What proposal?"

"Are you interested in an alliance between Erebor and the Iron Hills? Stronger than the one we already have, of course."

"I won't be marrying her."

"Mahal, no! You're ancient for her!"

Bilbo snorted at that. Thorin shot him a look.

"Your nephews, on the other hand… Fili's the heir, is he not? Maen is Kili's age, so it wouldn't be such a difference between her and Fili. What do you think?"

"I won't impose a marriage upon my family."

Dáin laughed in good spirits, "If you believe I can make Maen do anything she's not comfortable with, you're highly mistaken. All I'm asking is if you think they could meet, and see what happens."

"Couldn't you have talked to me about it before?" Maen sighed.

"Now, where would the fun be in that?"

Things got settled then without any promises or concessions. Maen assisted Bilbo in tending the survivors and arranging the mountain for the winter. She wasn't as close-minded or prone to prejudice as her fellow dwarves, therefore she immediately took a liking to the hobbit which made Bilbo feel at ease in her presence. Before the worst of the winter fell upon them, and once the Iron Hills' supplies were well stoked in Erebor, Maen left with Dáin.

Five years later, Thorin reached out to Dáin accepting the proposition of having Maen and Fili meet, but he was clear enough that Fili had the final decision, not him.

That's how five years after the battle of the five armies, a caravan of dwarves from the Iron Hills closed the distance with Erebor once again. Rumors about Maen had been spread among the Ereborians; they knew about the good luck of the females in her family and that she was Dáin's goddaughter, yet even if they believed that they couldn't comprehend that she being a warrior was just as true as the other things. When she showed up in the throne room with a gorgeous magenta velvet dress with golden embroidery, intricate braids in her hairstyle, and beautiful jewelry designed for a princess more than for the youngest child of a poor family, the rumor spread that she was well educated, feminine, and, in no way, a warrior.

The throne room was occupied by king Thorin, his consort Bilbo, and his advisor Balin. Dáin stomped happily forgetting all about protocol much to Thorin's amusement.

"Cousin!! It's good to see you where you belong. Up and healthy, no less. Good. Good," he nodded vehemently.

"I hope the journey had not been too difficult for you, Dáin."

"Nothing can break us, Thorin. Ah! You better remember Lady Maen," with a gesture of his hand, she made a small bow.

"Impossible to forget. Welcome, Lady Maen. I hope your stay in Erebor would be pleasurable."

"If I may, sire, allow me to compliment the state of the mountain. In only five years, it has changed too much I can barely remember where all the debris was."

"Indeed. Time flies and we've been using it wisely. My consort has taken special care in the election of your rooms, and I've been warned that you would need free access to our library if you are to be happy under our roof," Thorin stated with a mischievous glint in his eyes that contrasted with the deepness of his voice.

Maen blushed violently as Dáin laughed, "There are two places that cannot be kept away from Maen, cousin, one of them is the library and the other is the arena. Don't let her fool you, she's as much of a handful as your nephews when she's determined. Not as mischievous, perhaps."

"I'm standing right here," she deadpanned.

She had been thinking about this meeting since Thorin's letter arrived at the Iron Hills, yet she never, in her wildest dreams, imagined Thorin Oakenshiel burst into laughter at something she'd said. Maen stopped breathing due to the surprise, and when she locked eyes with Bilbo, she relaxed as the consort had a familiar welcoming and caring air surrounding him.

"Well… Where's the lad?" Dáin asked then.

Thorin seemed nervous then, glancing at his consort. "We might have misplaced him," Bilbo pointed out.

"But don't fret, Dáin, Dwalin, and Dís are looking for him at this very moment," Balin added.

"He knew I was coming, didn't he?" She asked Bilbo directly.

The hobbit cleared his throat changing his weight anxiously. "Of course! We– Um… We told him this morning."

"This morning."

"Then we could prevent him from going out of the mountain," Thorin explained.

Before she could say anything else, the door burst open with amazing strength. A dwarf lady wearing a rich Durin's blue dress and an impressive braided upsweep, with mithril beads on her beard, appeared stomping in furiously; on one hand, she was carrying a heavy hammer while the other had a firm grip on the back of the clothes worn by a blond dwarf being dragged by her. A few steps behind them, a huge bald dwarf full of ink had another dwarf on his shoulders carrying it like a sack of coal. The dwarf lady didn't seem put off by the presence of the Iron Hills dwarves, it mostly fueled her anger if Maen had to go by the way her frown deepened.

She dropped the blond dwarf to the floor, right at Thorin's feet. The bald dwarf hadn't dropped the other dwarf that was fighting with all he had kicking and punching him without result. Thorin closed his eyes a moment before grunting an 'Up' full of ire.

The blond dwarf stumbled to get to his feet, when his blue eyes found his new audience, he ran a hand through his messy mane and stood excessively self-satisfied. Maen arched an eyebrow utterly unimpressed.

"Lady Maen, allow me to introduce you to my sister, Lady Dís. This is her son, and Crown Prince of Erebor, Fili," when Thorin noticed Maen's eyes glancing at the other two still struggling, he sighed. "And that's the chief of the guard, Dwalin, and Fili's brother, Kili."

"We do apologize for this terrible first encounter," Dís rapidly assured.

"Please, do not worry. I had been warned that he had been misplaced."

Fili rolled his eyes and Maen fought her urge to just push him. She had made a long journey to come and meet him!! The least he could do was behave like a proper dwarf.

"I was also told that I share a birth year with Kili," she looked pointedly at the dwarf on Dwalin's shoulder. The young dwarf stopped fighting to get free. "I must say I beg to differ."

Thorin snorted, "You and I, both."

"Why don't we show our guests their rooms?" Bilbo asked looking at Balin.

"Great idea! I'm sure you must want to rest before supper is ready," the advisor smiled at them.

"That'll be great, Master Balin," before following him and the others, Maen took Fili's look on with an enigmatic smile. The prince twitched under her scrutiny. "It would be impossible for us to get to know each other if you keep running away, prince Fili; and here I thought you were called Lion for a reason…"

As she left she could hear Dís loud laugh and a pleased, "I like her already!"

The quarters Maen was placed in were beautiful and cozy, they had a clear hobbit influence and she loved it. Bilbo had left a small stock of books in her room with a nice note. She felt moved by Bilbo's easy way of making people around him feel taken care of one way or another. Thorin's good humor was a total surprise, yet incredibly welcome. The brothers' stunt had hurt her, however. She couldn't understand how someone could just be so disrespectful to someone they didn't know. Maen understood that maybe Fili had already someone he wanted to court and he hadn't talked to his uncle about it, but they could've talked about it at least. There was no need to run away and reject her like that. Perhaps Fili had heard about her humble birth and that was a dealbreaker for him even though it didn't seem to be the case with Thorin or Dís.

As she considered the possibilities of the prince's behavior her mood soured. Something heavy sunk into her stomach.

When supper was ready, she walked to the dining room next to Dáin. Thorin's company was there, as they were now noblemen. Fili and Kili kept mostly for themselves although their mother confronted them with harsh whispers every now and then. Maen took this opportunity to get to know the others and she found herself charmed by Ori's shyness as he explained how he was now the head of the library and he'd been taking extra care of the books with Bilbo. Maen shared her love for books and complained about how scarce her library in the Iron Hills was compared to what she'd heard of the one in Erebor.

Ori's older brother, Dori, complimented her on her dress and she immediately explained that the intricate work had been made by one of her sisters.

"I'm not as good with fabrics and threats as I am with the sword, I'm afraid."

"The rumors are true, then?" Nori asked with a glint in his eyes. As far as she had been able to perceive, Nori loved all kinds of digressions of the norms. That included the fact that Maen was a warrior.

"Without having listened to the rumors myself I'm not able to confirm nor deny them, Master Nori. However, I am in fact a warrior. I came here five years ago a helped in the battle."

A snort made her turn her head sharply. Kili, bright red, was choking on his food.

"Seriously?" Bilbo muttered tiredly as he approached the young prince to clasp him in the back, "This is a divine punishment for trying to make fun of her. Just so you know," the hobbit whispered to him; it was so loud, however, that the whole room heard it.

Maen approached Dwalin after dessert had been eaten, and she started a conversation about axes and their different forms. It immediately engaged the warrior in an enjoyable chat about the advantages and disadvantages of long axes, short axes, extra curly axes, and so on. When Maen told him that his brother-in-law was the smith that made her weapons, Dwalin immediately showed interest in giving them a few blows and he even invited her to the arena.

Before the night was called off, she approached the princes. Without the ceremony and respect that she should show them due to their rank, she sat in front of them with an eyebrow arched and her arms crossed on her chest.

"Well? Anything you want to say to my face or you two rather whisper each other's ears off like a couple of grannies?"

"What are you doing here, exactly?" Kili wondered with a frown.

"I've been asked to come and meet with you guys. Dáin's idea is that, if Fili and I like each other we could get married."

"And if I don't want to marry you?" Fili spat straightening his back.

Maen snorted rolling her eyes, "Sweetheart, right now I'm the one who won't marry you. You haven't even been nice enough for me to be able to consider you a friend in the future. I'm going to stay here as long as Dáin wants, so you better grow up and face the fact that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"What if we make you leave?" Kili whispered in a poor try at being menacing.

She giggled. "Ow, you're cute. I won't leave. It's refreshing being somewhere where I don't have to be looking over my shoulder for someone to shove courting gifts in my face."

"Are you that popular in the Iron Hills?" Fili seemed skeptical and Kili was blushing so hard that his brain was going to melt.

"Dáin had to make a decree for them to leave me alone. It worked… for the most part."

*

Two weeks after that terrible first day, the princes seemed less ridiculous around her, which was great, but they still treated her like a pest. When Dís or Thorin agreed that Fili would accompany Maen to the market, he made her wait for at least an hour before showing up sweaty and dirty from fighting in the arena, Kili close behind him; as might be expected, the fact that the brothers were together implied that they lead her to the market and then ignore her in favor to talk to each other, the shop owners, or cute lady dwarves that walked through the market.

Maen kept feeling unwanted, disrespected, and hurt. The murmurs around Erebor saying that there was no way she was a warrior because she was too delicate, too soft, too nice, too girly… didn't help to improve her mood at all.

On the second day of the third week, she was invited to witness the tournament between warriors from the Iron Hills and from Erebor in the arena. Apparently, Thorin and Dáin had decided to rescue that form of healthy entertainment in order to cheer her up. She, boldly, asked Thorin if Fili was going to participate, to which he assured her that he would.

The day of the tournament rolled by and Maen was nowhere to be found. The rules were simple: no biting, no hurting in extra sensitive areas, and no killing; the local fighters would walk to the center of the arena and a visitor fighter would decide to duel him. Usually, the best warrior or, in this case, the prince, was the last one in moving to the center of the arena as it was the big show to close the tournament. As the time to start came close and all the visitor fighters were in their place, Fili approached his uncle with a concerned frown.

"Where is she?"

"Clearly not here."

"Uncle, we're doing all of this for her entertainment," he complained.

"No. We're doing this because you begged for a chance to make it right with her."

"While showing off, of course," Bilbo chimed in.

"That too. However, we cannot force her to come and see you fight after how badly you've treated her."

"This is not fair!"

"Shut your mouth and go to your place. I didn't raise you to whine like this, Fili," Dís snarled.

Dáin had listened to the exchange with a pleased and smug smile on his face.

The tournament started strongly. Dwalin was one of the first participants and he demolished the Iron Hills' fighter in less than ten minutes without breaking a sweat. Fili paid half attention to the arena as his eyes kept searching in the audience for someone familiar hoping that Maen's curiosity pushed her to go down there even if it was camouflaging herself to blend with the Ereborians. Kili, who wasn't a participant in the tournament, approached his brother from behind the fighters' bench.

"Nervous? You're next."

"No. I don't care. She's not even here."

"Does that mean that you're going to perform badly because your girlfriend is not here to see you win? Pathetic."

"Oi! She's not my girlfriend."

"Of course not," he scoffed. "Maen said clearly that she wouldn't marry you if you keep being an ass, and you've been even worse than an ass. Now you like her, though, and you cannot stand the idea of her marrying one of his many, many, many, many–"

"Shut your mouth."

"–many, many, many suitors in the Iron Hills. Who knows? Maybe Dáin offers her to marry his son."

A spike of jealousy bloomed in Fili's eyes and Kili smirked.

"If you perform greatly I'm sure Ori would talk to her about it."

Kili was a mastermind… on occasion. He knew that Fili had grown wary of the little librarian due to the amount of time he spent with Maen talking about books, and it was the right amount of fuel needed for his brother to stomp to the middle of the arena when his turn came.

The visitor fighters looked directly at one of them, one who had stayed in full armor –helmet included– since the beginning; it seemed as if they knew that fighter wanted to destroy the heir of Erebor. What if he was one of Maen's suitors? Fili was screwed. Kili gave his brother a thumbs-up and ran to his mother.

"Fili's going to die."

"Perhaps," she smiled.

The fighter faced Fili with a long sword in hand, and a couple of axes stored on his back. He bowed to the prince as requited and then waited for the signal to begin.

Fili took the initiative of the first blow. They shared some tentative blows, not really revealing their strength, and suddenly Fili used all this strength on one blow that the fighter wisely dodged, he punched the prince in the face with the hand holding his sword and Fili stumbled to the side. Fili's helmet allowed me to see his face and hair, but the fighter's blow hurt nonetheless. Grunting, Fili charged against him and, this time, the fighter responded with similar strength pushing his body against Fili's not allowing him to take any advantaged position. When Fili punched the fighter in the guts he didn't emit a sound, the dwarf was tougher than expected.

The fighter gained an area against Fili. As their swords were pushing against each other, none of them ready to yield, the fighter crushed Fili's foot making him lose some strength in his attack which gave the fighter room to disarm him, go around him, and kick his back throwing the prince to the floor.

Instead of taking that point of advantage and winning the battle, the fighter receded, threw his sword to a corner of the arena far away from him, and pulled his axes from the back. He gave them a colorful twist in his hands before turning to the prince. Fili had taken off his helmet with fury, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were lit with determination and ferocity. He couldn't see the features of the fighter, but the small bow was mockingly enough to fuel the prince's anger.

Fili took his throwing knives from their hiding place and threw them in quick succession; the fighter hit every one of them with precise movements of his axe while approaching the prince. Without anything else to throw, Fili launched himself to the floor made a turn, and grabbed his sword just in time to block one of the axes. He rejected the attack and ran to where his discarded shield was; how had he been so cocky as to believe he wouldn't need it, he didn't know.

The audience held their breath, the arena was in complete silence apart from the fighters' weapons crashing. One of the axes got blocked by the sword for the seventh time, but this time the position prevented Fili from pushing it back; the other ax hit his shield repeatedly, over and over and over and over. The hits were fast and strong, never hesitating nor showing tiredness. Fili's shield arm felt every hit like a jolt until a particularly hard hit shocked him from the wrist to the shoulder provoking a spasm that made him drop the shield with a painful moan. The fighter then kneed him in the uncovered side throwing him onto the floor once again.

As the prince fought to stand up, the fighter kicked him again before throwing his sword far away from his reach. The fighter stood proudly next to the whining prince and slid his ax under the blond's chin waiting for him to admit his surrender.

"I yield. I yield!!"

Fili's words made the arena break to sound again. The fighter retreated his weapon, yet he didn't move and Fili was too tired to try to get up.

"That's my girl!!" Dáin's yell overpowered the other voices.

The fighter tilted his head to one side, still facing Fili. He put his axes on his back again before pulling the helmet off. Maen's face appeared then and Fili was unable to produce a word.

"Fili, the Lion of Erebor, had been defeated by Maen, the Fire of the Iron Hills. This tournament has been–" Thorin kept with his speech but Fili couldn't make sense of his words.

Maen nodded at him and turned leaving him on the floor of the arena.

*

Fili sat heavily in a chair by the fire. His body ached horribly after the fight, bruises had been blooming on his torso, and his shield arm was stiff. Kili handed him a mug of warm ale with a cheeky grin.

"She kicked your arse."

"Of course she did," Thorin claimed. "Lady Maen is one of the best warriors of the Iron Hills."

"But she's a lady!!" Fili complained.

"Excuse me?" Dís looked pointedly at her son, who immediately cowered in his chair.

"What I don't understand is why you don't just ask her to spend some time together. You clearly like her," Kili pressed.

"Durin's are bad at romance, lad," Dwalin laughed.

"What do you mean?" Kili was suddenly interested while Fili just sipped his cup.

"Do you remember how Thorin treated Bilbo during our journey?" Balin asked in his calmer voice. "He was insufferable just because he thought the hobbit was cute."

"I did not!"

Dwalin snorted at Thorin's outrage.

"It was sad to see."

"It happened the same with Dís. She made your poor father bleed and cry before accepting his proposal," Balin added.

"Why did you shove me into this mess?" She complained and punched her brother's arm when he laughed.

"I didn't treat Tauriel badly when I met her," Kili thought out loud.

"That's because you're more like your father," Balin explained, not allowing the others to jump at the mention of the elf.

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" Fili claimed the attention was on him again.

"Stop being an ass to her would be a good start. Although if you really do not like her that much I could always ask her out–"

"Kili don't mess with your brother when he's clearly suffering."

"Yes, mother."

"I have to say you're quite lucky, lad. Maen's not like any other lass; not even like any other dwarf. She wouldn't hold a grudge for long. It's up to you."

Dwalin's words echoed in Fili's mind as his eyes looked over the flames.

Not far away from the royal quarters where they were having their little chat, were Maen's. She had taken a very long bath, and dried carefully her bushy mane of dark brown hair before tying it in a careful braid whose sole objective was to avoid it tangling in her sleep. She sat next to her own fire with a romance book in her hands. Her focus wasn't the best at that moment, hence her relieved sigh when her torture was cut short by a knock on her door.

Bilbo Baggings was on the other side of the door with understanding showering his features. Maen invited him to enter the living area, pleased by the tray with backed goods and tea that Bilbo placed carefully on a small table.

"I hope you like scones, Lady Maen."

"I cannot say I've had them before, Mister Bilbo, but please, call me Maen."

"Bilbo for me then." After taking a few bites with a meaningless conversation, Bilbo twisted his nose, cleared his throat, and brushed the crumbs away from his fingers. "I wanted to apologize."

Maen blinked in confusion, "Please no, do not do such a thing. You've been nothing but nice to me, Bilbo. There's nothing you should apologize about."

"I beg to differ. I– I presumed that because you're a dwarf you'll have it easier here, that you'll click with Fili faster than– Well… I'm a hobbit, not a dwarf, and you know how reserved dwarves could be; I had it hard with the company for a big part of our journey, and when Thorin confessed his feelings I could only think about the council opposing and the Ereborians just hating me.

"I'm not entirely sure how I managed to have the position that I have now, but I'm certain that I own the company a big deal of it. Especially to Thorin.

"I shouldn't have presumed that you wouldn't feel left out or unwanted by your fellow dwarves. I guess you and I are alike on that front as I had been pinned down as an oddity by my fellow hobbits back in The Shire. I didn't quite fit there."

"Female dwarves aren't meant to be warriors, there's too little of us and pregnancy is a deadly risk on its own. The armory called for me daily, nonetheless, and Dáin was kind enough to consent to my training instead of pushing me to the knitting room. Even if that can be seen as an oddity in the Iron Hills, my family is well-known there, and I received offerings for courting way before I was of age. It wasn't ideal, of course, but being here makes me miss it. At least there I'm not underestimated."

"Fili likes you. He really does, Maen. He's just as stubborn as his uncle when it comes to facing his feelings. Did I tell you that the first time Thorin saw me, after arriving late I may add, he looked at me, head to toe, and said 'so, this is the hobbit' as if making fun of me? The audacity!"

"I expect you've made him resent that, Bilbo."

"Why, of course!! Soft, he said. Me! Ha! You've been way too nice to Fili, never losing your temper or chewing his head off. It's time for you to put your foot down, and let me tell you that your performance today was spotless. Everyone in the mountain is talking about it. There are rumors about 'the Lion and the Fire of Erebor'."

Maen laughed anxiously, her face warm with blush.

*

Three days after the tournament Fili offered Maen to spend a morning in Dale as she hadn't seen it since the battle and their market was interesting. That led to her waiting at the front doors, as usual, two days later, although this time she had taken the precaution of inviting Ori with her. Nori was obviously close, but he appeared to be ignoring them.

Ori was explaining with great enthusiasm the rich quality of Dale's paper and ink when Fili approached them. Maen glanced at him with an arched brow.

"Are we in a rush?" She questioned in lieu of a greeting.

Fili hesitated in his septs frowning, "Not that I'm aware of. Why?"

"You're on time."

"Yes."

"You're never on time. Usually, I would have to wait for at least an hour for you to be here."

Fili cleared his throat lowing his face with shame, "Yeah. I apologize for that. Um… Shall we go now?"

"Aren't we waiting for Kili?" She looked around in confusion.

"He's not coming."

Maen stared at Fili as if he had just shaved his beard. "On time and without Kili. I'm afraid to ask if Lady Dís had some sort of conversation with you."

"She did not."

"Huh… Well, I appreciate the changes, of course, yet I had already taken the precaution of getting my own companion as I was expecting you and your brother to be busy with each other. Ori here is going with us."

"I'm sorry Fili, I would leave you two alone, but Dori has given me a list of things to purchase in Dale. And you know how Dori can be if he doesn't get what he wants."

"No. It's– It's fine, Ori. The more the merrier. Shall we go then?"

Maen shared a conspicuous look with Ori before following Fili and some guards toward the ponies. Ori had been her ally in the mountain as well as Bilbo, and when she voiced her worries about the journey to Dale becoming just another day of being mistreated, Bilbo had suggested bringing Ori with her and the little scribble had beamed with the prospect of visiting Dale's market again.

Tables had turned and Fili wasn't happy about it.

Dale was impressive and richly decorated, their buildings were colorful and stunning; some of them had kept most of their past structure and there were marks of orc weapons on some walls. Ori explained to an astonished Maen, that Bard had rebuilt the city wanting to keep the memory of past times; like a homage. She understood the sentiment, there were claw marks in Erebor still and she already assumed it was a reminder of what could happen if they weren't careful with their greed.

The market was crowded, full of men, but also a good amount of dwarves and elves. Maen was bouncing on her feet excited to see, touch, and buy whatever came across her. She did not ignore Fili on purpose, although she must admit that having been used to being ignored by him she stopped thinking about reaching for him long ago, therefore her mindset was sure that he was just ignoring her as usual. Ori and Maen enjoyed every second in the market, they bought some books, paper, ink, quills, fabric, yarn… It was ridiculous.

After long hours waiting in the market, the dwarves started to feel hungry and then Maen turned to look for Fili and found him frowning, his mouth pressed in a sad thing line.

"Should we come back to the mountain to eat, or should we find a tavern here?" She asked him.

Fili scowled. "Let's go back."

Ori gave Maen a guilty look.

It wasn't until they were back in Erebor that Maen approached Fili, she crossed his path impeding him to run to his quarters. She waited until he gathered the patience and courage needed to look her in the eyes.

"How does it feel?" To her question, Fili frowned deeper in confusion. "Did you enjoy being ignored? Did you feel unwanted? Disrespected? Hurt?" Fili's expression opened up with a glint of awareness in his blue eyes. "Yeah. Is not very nice, is it? I did not intend to ignore you today, yet I expect that with you discovering how that behavior of yours hurt me, you'd be more careful in the future."

Not waiting for an answer, Maen nodded to the prince and left.

He didn't ignore her again.

*

Fili was running but he was not advancing and right before his eyes, Azog stood fighting against Maen. The frustration built up inside of Fili, he needed to reach her before the pale orc hurt her, he had to– he had– he–

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO" he screamed as Azog skewered his spear across Maen's torso.

He woke up with a jolt of pain in his own wound. A sheet of cold sweat covered his skin. He traced the long scar from his chest to his belly with his fingers still in a daze when a hard knock on his quarters' door awakened him completely. It was the middle of the night, there probably were five hours before dawn. Fili put on a gown and padded towards the door, opening it with caution. A young guard stood there uncomfortable.

"Sire, my apologies for the disturbance."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Lady Maen, sire, she's in the arena and we don't know how to proceed. Master Nori order me to ask you."

The prince frowned registering the information, "Leave her alone. I'll– I'd be on my way. Do not disturb her."

"Aye, sire."

Fili got dressed faster than ever, he grabbed his sword and headed to the arena. He nodded to the guards and to Nori, but they didn't share a word. There, in the arena, was Maen training with her axes, only a couple of torches illuminating the room. Fili recognized the tension in her shoulders and the determination in her frown, she'd had a nightmare.

He approached her with determination. Maen glanced at him and stopped her movements, but she didn't say anything, nor did he. With a nod of acknowledgment, Fili and Maen started sparing although not as violently as in the tournament as neither of them was wearing armor.

Tired to the bone due to the exercise, Fili got himself stuck in the same position that pushed his defeat in the tournament. Instead of kneeing him in the side as she did that time, Maen swapped her foot under his forcing him to lose his balance and fall to the floor on his back. She smiled at him, openly and sincerely. Fili laughed, offering his hand for her to take expecting her to help him get up. Maen threw her axes to the side and grabbed his arm, yet before she could pull him, the prince pulled first, making her fall against his chest.

Maen let out a surprised gasp before laughing at the childish move. Fili pushed his luck just a little farther, turning them in the arena until she was under him. She stopped laughing and arched an eyebrow at him, challenging his next move. Fili blushed violently; his eyes darted from her eyes to her lips. Sighing, the prince rolled to his side until he was on his back looking at the ceiling next to Maen, who was now looking at him. Fili noticed the movement in the shadows in the corner of his eye and he was sure that Nori was ready to intervene if he had done what he really wanted to do.

Instead of that, Fili pulled out a richly decorated mithril bead and handed it to Maen.

"I, Fili son of Dís, Crown Prince of Erebor, solicit permission to court you, Maen, goddaughter of Dáin Ironfoot, with this courting bead I had made myself."

Maen burst into a childish laugh, "Only you could ask with such a posh manner while both of us are sweaty and tired from a spar session in the middle of the night."

"That's not an answer," Fili singsonged twisting the bead in his fingers.

"Yes, you idiot! But beware, if you behave like an arse again I can call it off anytime."

"I won't."

Their laughs echoed in the arena ignoring that they had Nori win a huge amount of money.

It wasn't until that night, at supper, when with all the company and their families reunited around the table, Fili approached Maen with a wooden box.

"This is the first courting gift of many. Although I'm aware of what tradition requires for me to give you, I expect to know you better than to gift you some expensive fabric for embroidery."

Maen pressed her lips to avoid smiling too soon and she opened the box. The typical courting gifts a dwarf lass received were focused on her alleged skills in textile matters, some woodwork, maybe jewels… Fili had gifted her a dagger whose grip and sheath were engraved with loving care and decorated with precious gems.

"Fili made it himself. All of it," Kili explained filling in the silence. "He had been a pain in the ass for the last three weeks because–"

Dís hit her son in the ribs to keep him quiet.

Maen looked at Fili, his smirk had become a shy little smile and his eyes were bright with nerves and hopes. A small movement of his brows made her understand that she hadn't accepted the gift properly yet.

"I accept the gift. It's perfect, Fili. Thank you."

The tension abandoned Fili's body to the point of him needing a chair before fainting.

At one point, in the future, people would remember Fili and Maen not as the King and Queen Under the Mountain, but as the Lion and the Fire of Erebor.

The End

[silvermoon-scrolls]

Fili - warm and shining like the sun, or hot and raging like the fire

For @deanobingo, using the prompts Fili and Fire

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

Under New Management, Ch 1

This started as a silly horny one shot, and now I have at least five chapters planed, and I entirely blame @laurfilijames​ for my obsession with this awful man.

Ryder Harrison x reader

Warnings: Guns, non graphic death,

Words: 3185

Ryder is in hot trouble, and find and even hotter solution.

The echo of gunfire rung in Ryders ears as he twisted his wrist and revved his bike into the next gear. His breaths were quick and he struggled to keep his bike straight as more shots rang out, his head ducking in an attempt to keep himself alive. 

It worked some, most of the white cars on his tail backing off or coming to a screeching crash, but one was much more persistent and as he took a sharp right, his tires sliding out from underneath him at the speed he was travelling, one of the bullets hit his gas tank, the bike slipping out from between his legs and bursting into a fiery inferno.  

It worked some, most of the white cars on his tail backing off or coming to a screeching crash, but one was much more persistent and as he took a sharp right, his tires sliding out from underneath him at the speed he was travelling, one of the bullets hit his gas tank, the bike slipping out from between his legs and bursting into a fiery inferno.  

He hit the ground with a grunt of pain, rolling through the dirt and tearing up his skin. Dazed and hurting he took off on foot, his limp apparent after the shot to the foot he received a few weeks back.

Chuck’s men were quick to catch up behind him and he weaved through fences and factories to shake them off. Finally coming up to the gate that would lead him out of the maze, he skittered to a stop as a smooth black car pulled up to his left.

Unarmed and trapped he put his hands out in surrender, one last plea for his life.

The front door of the car swung open and a man stepped out, his demeaner casual and calm as he sent Ryder a grin. He didn’t look Asian, which ruled him out as one of Chuck’s men, but he wasn’t Māori either and he wore no To Toki vest. In fact, he wore a uniform he didn’t recognize. His long, dark red hair was pulled back in a low pony tail and shades covered his eyes. As casual as his entrance, he pulled a gun out from his vest and in three shots the men that were on Ryders tail lay dead.  

The stranger sent another grin and opened the back door.

“The boss wants to have a chat with you Ryder Harrison. I would advise not making them wait,” a thick Irish accent called out to him, gesturing to the back seat.

His blue eyes glanced between the door and the now clear way back into the maze in panic.

“I would also advise not running,” the Irishmen called out again, “The boss wants to talk but I have not problem with simply shooting you,”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he shot back knowing he didn’t stand a chance against the armed man if he did try something and limped towards the car with his hands still up. He slipped into the car with a pounding heart, the door closing behind him with a quiet click. They were moving before he realized there was someone in the back seat with him.

His panic doubled and he pushed himself as far into the door as he could as he watched the new stranger.

A woman, a very pretty woman, sat beside him in a short black skirt and blouse, her fingers shuffling threw paperwork until she pulled out a file with his picture on it.

“Ryder Harrison,” she spoke in a soft voice not bothering to tear her eyes from the files, a small smirk on her plump pink lips, “Head of the Assassins, arrested once when you were nineteen and again in your twenties. Dabbles in weed, booze and other party drugs, owns a garage on the west side of Vegas and until recently ran an underground fighting ring,”

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, “any how the fuck do you know so much about me?”

She raised a bow at him and sent him an amused look. She gathered the paperwork into a neat stack and handed it to him, turning to watch him intently, “I simply like to know who I’m working with. You see, I want to make you an offer,”

Ryder tilted his head at her, his curiosity outweighing his fear at this point, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Do you know who I am Ryder?”

“Not a clue,”

“Then let’s just say I’m an eccentric business woman who has a high-stake interest in getting her foot into Vegas,”

“Aw yeah,” he grinned, leaning forwards and sizing her up in his head, “and why do you need me for that?”

“Because…” she played along much to his delight, also leaning towards him and tapping him on the nose, “you have contacts, resources, knowledge. You know this town better than any and I want a local on my side. I have big plans and a very heavy pocket. All I need now is a friend on my payroll that can get things done,”

He sneered at her pretty words, “Oh, I see. You need a lap dog that knows how things run around here,”

“Precisely,” she nodded and frowned at his sudden displeasure, “but… if you’re not the man for the job I can always offer the spot to the To Toki…”

“Easy up love,” Ryder quickly cut in with a shake of his head, “no need to bring those dickheads into this, we had a nice thing going here didn’t we? Let’s not ruin it. How much are we talking here? A couple grand? More?”

“Oh darling, I don’t play with petty cash like that. Vegas is just under the radar enough to make some very pleasing deals without much of a cover. I’m talking half a million, rich business men with spare time on their hands, overseas deals that spend wealth like it’s going out of fashion,”

It took all Ryders concentration to keep his jaw from hitting the ground. A deal like that could keep him living pretty for the rest of his life, not to mention he would be taking orders from a very pretty dame who seemed to enjoyed a flirt almost as much as he did.

He leaned back and gave her another once over, weighing out his options in his head. He could use a friend on his side right now, but he still had no idea who this woman was. She could be a cop for all he knew, but the way her sharp eyes flashed as she spoke gave him the impression she enjoyed the taste of danger a little to much to be a bitch in blue. That she walked on the darker side of the law.

“I wouldn’t mind playing lap dog for that kind of payroll I suppose,”

“Good,” she grinned again, “because you would look so good in a collar,”

“Kinky, definitely my kind of deal,” he snickered, leaning into the soft leather seats of the car and resting his hands behind his head, “but pretty words don’t show shit I’m afraid. How do I know your legit? And what do I get out of it?”

“Bold words coming from someone who has nothing but a gun to his head,” she scoffed, “but I’ll bite. I’ll give you your name back,”

“My name?”

“Yes Ryder, your name. The Assassin’s name. Back in all it’s glory because let’s be honest. You’re a joke,”

He gave a growl low in the back of his throat, his ego dinted and his confidence shattered. Chuck’s right-hand girl had said the same thing to him while she kept him on his knees. That he was weak. That he scared no one. That the rest of the town walked over him because they thought him a joke.

The reason it hit so hard however, was because it was true.

When people looked upon the To Toki, they cowered, they walked the other way, they held their hands out in surrender. You didn’t fuck up a deal with those guys because you knew there would be consequences. But the Assassins? How many times had they been screwed over or double crossed? How many times had he backed down or got caught with his pants around his ankles? How many times had people laughed at his face?

Ignoring his shattered demeanor, the woman continued to speak, tilting his head up with one finger and forcing his eyes to meet hers, “but I want to change that. To make them fear you, to make them respect you, once again. I see what you can become Ryder. Great. Powerful. The king of these miserable streets. I can help you become that, if you’ll let me,”

There it was again, the flame in her eyes as she looked at him, as she stroked his ego back to life with promises of power and respect.

“Anything you want. Anything you need, would be all yours,”

“Yeah?” he whispered back with a shaky breath, her stare and words making his head spin, “And what do you get out of it? Something about you tells me you don’t do charity work,”

She gave him an amused look that made her nose scrunch and slid herself closer to him, sitting only inches away from his lap. A teasing hand was placed on the side of his thigh, “Like I said, I need a local on my side to get things done. I want to take Vegas by storm and I want to do that through you. We’d split profits, share connections, run the underworld. You can own Vegas, so long as I own you,”

His breath hitched in his throat as her hand traveled ever so slowly up his leg, and he licked his lips and he watched.

“What- what exactly do you mean by profits?” he croaked, trying to keep his composure and settle the deal before he lost himself, “My cash came from weed and my ring fights, and Chuck fucked both of those up on me…”

Ryder felt the car slow down and rumble to a stop around him and he risked a quick glance out the window.

“Recognize the place?” she asked sweetly.

“Yeah, used to be an old sawmill. Hasn’t been operating in years, not since the interior got burnt out. Pretty sure it got bought a few months ago by some big shot from the city?”

She gave a chuckle and held out a set of keys before his face, “Well the big shot from the city wants you to have a look,”

He looked between her and the keys with growing excitement, snatching them from her hand and waltzing his way to the front door. She made her way behind him, the clicking of her heels against the pavement rhythmic. He waisted no time getting inside, stopping short at what he found.

The inside had been completely decked out with a bar and dance floor. A large stage sat to the right of the area and neon lights lined the walls hiding smoke machines and strobe lights. A staircase had been fitted close to the back that led up to a balcony looking over the open area of the stage and dance floor and a sign hung from the rafters reading ‘Welcome to the Wolves Den’.

“A nightclub?” he questioned, “Sweet as, but not really my area of expertise,”

“That’s because we haven’t finished our tour yet Ryder, head to the bar and use the second key on the black door hidden behind the curtains,”

He gave a nod and followed her instructions. It took him a moment to find the door, it being very well hidden against the array of signs, mirrors and lights, but he turned the handle and was led into a dim boxy room where another red hair fellow sat waiting.

He made a move to grasp his gun but the woman waved her hand and he immediately backed off.

“Can’t have too much protection in this part of the den,” she grinned and taking the lead she headed down the stairs and through another curtain.

He continued with her, his blue eyes widening at the cage that sat in the center of the room. It was nothing like the makeshift dog cage he used for his fights, it had been ornamented with mats and padded bars. Spikes lined the tops in a grungy look that suited the rest of the room and seating, making it look rough and lawless despite the safety features. It made him feel more feral even standing in here.

There was a smaller bar in here, with less decisive bottles and no labels and as he ducked his head over the counter he noticed the cigarettes, joints and other colored pills that were less that legal tucked away. A mirror ran along the back wall making the room look bigger than it was, and a mural of wolf heads, all with their teeth bared and bloody, stretched along the side.  

“More to your standers Ryder?” she asked with satisfaction.

“Oh fuck yeah. Definitely the best naughty corner I’ve been in,”

“Bar’s decked out with all the best goodies, legal and otherwise,” she nodded, pointing out different places as she showed him around, “cage is permanent, completely matted, and lights can be moved or coloured from the control panel over there. Seats for the spectators along the walls, space to stand against the cage for the more eager, and that box up there is a privet room for the more… how would you say… big spenders. Bets are done through the bar, and the scores are shown on the screens up there. What do you think?”

“I think you and I are gonna be very rich and very happy,”

So enthralled with it all, he missed her slink towards him until she had pinned him to the wall of the cage. She was a far bit shorter than him but far more intimidating, especially with the way she causally played with the butterfly knife she had pulled from her top. He made a move to slip away, but she brought the blade down level to his throat, a clash of metal against the steel cage echoing around the room.

She gave him a knowing grin and he swallowed harshly, staring her down despite his fear as she pushed herself against him, her body warm against his stomach and her breasts heavy against his chest.

She battered her long lashes and trailed her spare hand under his leather vest, “Ryder? Darling? I’m not fucking around here. You take this deal and I need competence, ok? Not the dickhead that gets lead into an ambush with a promise of a quick fuck. Not the ass that makes empty threats and cowers when push comes to shove. I need the Ryder that makes people afraid when he drives by, the Ryder that takes care of defiant Ukrainian fighters, quickly and neatly, with no loose ends. I need Ryder Harrison, king of Vegas,”

He blinked, putting her words together in his head, “How do know- how long have you been watching me?”

“Not just you Ryder, I’ve had my sights on this town long before Chuck got his grubby fingers into To Toki’s ‘kiwifruit’ business, long before that bar break in and long before Kingi took over the To Toki. I have eyes and ears everywhere and I have spent way too much time and money on this for you to fuck it up, understand?”

“Yeah I get it,”

“Do you Ryder? Do you? Because the last guy didn’t, and I had to make a very bloody example of him. Don’t make me have to do the same to you, okay?”

“Look, I won’t fuck this up ok? I am sick of being walked over by every asshole out there and them laughing at my name!” he snarled down at her before giving a sigh and dropping his voice into a whisper, pulling her closer by her waist and murmuring into her ear, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “I won’t fuck this up, you and I? Were gonna rule this place, I promise. Give me a few days and I’ll have fighters ready, bets organized. I’ll keep you satisfied, in every way you need me too,”

He could feel her heart speed up at his words, the double meaning apparent to both of them, and her breath was hot against the skin of his neck. He pressed his hips against hers, a promise of what he was offering growing and hardening against her.

“Then I think you and I are going to get along quiet well,” she whispered back, pulling her head back to ghost her lips against his, “What do you need to make it happen hmm?”

“I’ll need a new bike,” he huffed, grinding himself against her slowly.

She let out a little gasp that kept him going, “I’ll have it delivered to your garage, what else?”

“Protection, Chucks men aren’t gonna stop coming after us without a reason to back off,”

“I’ll make a few calls, calm him down, load the Assassins up with some proper firearms,”

His hands traveled down her sides to cup at her ass, hitching one leg over his hip and reeling her skirt up to play with her skin, “There’s a bar, a local hang out. Free drinks whenever we show? Don’t want them trailing us back to here after all,” he grinned knowing he was pushing his luck at this point but more focused on the way she felt in his hands.

“Careful Ryder, you’re not the king yet,” she warned with a quick nip to his jaw, “but I’ll see what I can do, anything else?”

“Hmm, nothing that I can think on the top of my head,” he grinned leaning forwards to swallow her lips.

She saw it coming, bringing the butterfly knife to her lips, the bladed edges keeping him hitting home. She smiled behind the blade and gave a quick squeeze to his ass before slipping out of his grip, giggling at his frustrated pout.

“Business before pleasure I’m afraid darling. Prove I chose the right man for the job and I’ll make sure you enjoy your reward personally, but until then…” she flicked the knife around in her hand concealing it in its handle and tossing it to him, “till we meet again Ryder,”

He gaped as she walked away with a deliberate sway in her hips, letting out a long moan as she disappeared into the curtains. Hard and worked, up he decided to check out the bathroom before he called someone to pick him up.

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