#that's actually peter jackson's hand

[abutterflyobsession]

I pull out so many random facts about the making of Lord of the Rings that people usually respond with, 'how do you even know that?!'

oh, friend.

my brother, a most pretentious lotr fan, snatched up the extended edition hot off the shelf and for weeks it was the only thing on the tv all day long. I've seen every commentary, every special feature . . . twice. maybe more. I didn't have a choice.

[illiterateaffairs]

a simple favor | stiles x reader

masterlist | next

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 7,120

warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)

summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.

author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)

“Hi!”

“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance. 

He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you. 

And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world. 

“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”

“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”

Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”

“I need your help with a spell.”

“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”

“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”

Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game. 

Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go. 

You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished. 

From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off. 

He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family. 

That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.

“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.

You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”

“My house.” 

“You’re taking me to your lair?”

“Ha ha.”

“I don’t even know where you live.” 

“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.” 

“You live in the woods?”

“Just drive.”

Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live. 

From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust. 

But he thinks he can survive one evening with you. 

The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio. 

You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station. 

Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”

“Turn left at the stop sign.”

“Right.”

You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”

Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”

You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”

“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”

“Because you’re a human.”

“Okay…?”

“And I need your blood.”

“Oh great.”

“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.” 

“And why do you need that?”

“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”

Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees. 

“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”

“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep. 

Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later. 

“Is your aunt home?”

“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter. 

Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase. 

“Um, where are we going exactly?”

“My room,” You call without turning around.

“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”

“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”

Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.

No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.

“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot. 

Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”

“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”

“Something like that.”

You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.

Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”

You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”

“But why me?”

“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”

You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”

“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”

“You should be.”

“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”

“Why? What happened to your parents?”

You swallow, “You’re nosy.”

“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”

“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”

“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”

You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face. 

You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”

I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients. 

“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”

I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”

I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit. 

Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”

You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”

“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”

You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”

Stiles rolls his eyes this time.

I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”

“I’d kind of like to see-”

“Reminder, I can kill you.”

“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”

“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.

“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”

“Okay, just stab me already.”

You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is. 

“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment. 

“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”

“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”

“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.” 

“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?” 

“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”

“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming. 

“When did you…” Stiles whispers.

I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”

Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?

“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.

“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks. 

“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood. 

Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound. 

“There, good as new.” 

You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently. 

“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”

Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”

I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together. 

Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”

“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”

Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”

I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed. 

When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it. 

“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.

You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”

Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck. 

He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”

You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”

“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”

You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”

Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”

You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”

Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell. 

As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin. 

“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”

Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”

I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”

Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”

You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”

Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”

“I have a few more questions.”

“Haven’t I told you enough?”

“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”

“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”

“By…telling Scott…”

You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”

“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?” 

You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”

“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”

“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”

“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”

“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.” 

Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”

I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”

Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario. 

“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.

Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”

“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”

“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”

“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”

“Did you tell him where you were from?”

“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”

Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”

“Yup.”

“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?” 

You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”

Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”

“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”

You make a face but don’t argue with him.

Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”

Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Thanks…”

The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.

“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”

Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”

“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”

Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”

“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”

“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?” 

I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”

Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”

“No, I just meant you could do better.”

Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”

You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”

“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”

“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”

“What…What do you mean?”

“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”

“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”

“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”

You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”

Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”

“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.” 

Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”

“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”

“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”

“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”

Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”

“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”

Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”

You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”

You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.

Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber. 

Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you. 

It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock. 

Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.” 

Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.

For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously. 

You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”

Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again. 

This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist. 

As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.

He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.

“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”

“To make out with a hot person?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.” 

You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.

“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”

Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out. 

“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”

The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.

You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”

“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.

“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.

“You’d really want to do this too?”

“Yes-”

“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”

“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”

“And you want to be with me? Why?”

“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”

Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation. 

“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement. 

“I’m in if you’re in.”

“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”

You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”

Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.

After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”

“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”

Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”

He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.

“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”

Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”

You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”

Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”

You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed. 

Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay. 

You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling. 

You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”

You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.

“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”

You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”

“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”

“I know you did.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”

“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”

“Stiles!”

“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”

He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”

“This was better.” 

He turns to you again in surprise. 

“You were better.”

Stiles stutters, “R-really?”

You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”

Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again. 

“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can’t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”

That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for. 

But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.

“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath. 

He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on. 

You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again. 

As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away. 

“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”

Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”

You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back. 

“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”

Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”

You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”

You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time. 

Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.

With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had. 

“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door. 

Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again. 

It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.

Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.

author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!

[xoxochb]

Can I request Percy x Dionysus!Kid

⋆·˚ ༘ * maroon

warnings: based on this prompt, established relationship pairing: percy jackson x daughter of dionysus

“what the actual hell” percy runs a hand through his hair

“I can not emphasize enough how much this was not my fault” you defend, crossing your arms

“really?” percy questions “then who did this?”

you throw your hands up dramatically. “my brother probably, I don’t know”

“why would pollux climb a bookshelf?”

“maybe he wanted the hidden wine at the top”

“the wine that’s now spilt on the floor? along with the bookshelf and the books?”

you nod your head. “yep”

“okay… so if I went and asked pollux right now if he did this he would say yes?”

“what’re you? my dad? just help me clean it up before he sees it!”

you drop to the ground and begin picking up the shards of glass belonging to what once was a bottle of wine. you sigh when you look back up at percy who stands watching

“If I confess I did it will you help me?”

he nods. “fess up, y/l/n”

you roll your eyes. “I wanted wine. pollux told me there was a hidden bottle up there so I wanted to check. he removed the screws last night so when I went to climb it the whole thing collapsed”

percy breaks out into a laughing fit, tears, doubling over, and everything. you glare at him in return.

“you…” he wipes a tear from his eye “you fell off the bookshelf?”

you stand up, placing the glass on the coffee table. “laugh it up. but remember if it was you that fell you would’ve been crying like a little baby”

“you were crying?!” percy’s laughing fit does not stop

you cross your arms again. “I fell off the bookshelf, dumbass! of course I was crying, I got hurt!”

percy continues to laugh but when his breathing goes back to normal he wipes away the tears along his cheeks and his hands find a home on your waist

“I’m sorry, y/n/n. are you okay?” he asks with a lingering grin

“no I’m not okay! my boyfriend was just laughing at my failure!!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“well you’re surely not forgiven”

his grin dissolves into a smirk before he plants a singular soft kiss to your lips

“am I forgiven now?”

you squint your eyes at him and shake your head. “you’ll be forgiven once this mess it cleaned up”

“great! I’ll find new screws, don’t move”

percy eagerly runs out of the big house to retrieve the missing screws from your bother. you crouch back down on the floor and continue picking up glass before another familiar voice speaks behind you,

“peter johnson? that’s the best you could do?”

[ghostieblr]

ok so i kind of want a canon divergent fic where Stiles & Derek know each other from their childhood (Derek is like 3-4 years older than him and used to pick up Cora from the same daycare maybe?)

the plot doesn't change till s3's finale, minus some of the character's deaths. Boyd, Erica, Allison — they all live. except, see, except stiles knows derek.

and derek knows stiles.

so post nogitsune arc where everyone can finally breathe, there is no other danger that is incoming, stiles pesters derek to call a "pack night" and derek begrudgingly texts so in the group named "awooo plus others." everyone's first thought is that derek has been possessed, or something, but then stiles records a video of derek saying it too and sends it via derek's phone. nobody questions who took the video, and they all come together for the pack night.

on the day of, everyone trickles in slowly, except stiles who was literally the first to arrive. he had derek go with him to buy snacks and groceries, and then they both come back to the loft to make food for everyone else. they have a mini food fight, and stiles' white shirt is littered with all sorts of condiments and food, so derek lends him one of his henley's.

"Dude, doesn't this hurt your werewolf sensibility?" Stiles asks, the henley in his hands. Derek rolls his eyes.

"Shut up, Stiles."

(he'll not admit it for a long while, but derek loves stiles' scent clinging to his own).

and then once everyone is there, derek and stiles realize simultaneously that there's not enough room for everyone to sit around, even if some people sit down on the floor. there's only one big couch, one armchair, and the rest is carpet around the sitting area, which isn't too big. which means that lydia, allison, scott, and jackson have taken the couch; peter has taken the armchair; isaac, boyd, erica, kira, and cora have taken the space on the floor in a way that there is literally only one person's space left, and that too is a squeeze. it's clear that scott was gonna ask stiles to squeeze on the couch with them, and that the floor space, beside cora, is meant for derek.

what happens is derek picks up the tv remote and stiles hands everyone their snacks and puts the rest on the coffee table, and then derek sits down on the floor, and stiles, without a single thought and without a single glance at scott, who is trying to motion for stiles to come sit on the couch, sits in the v of derek's legs. derek, of course, puts his arm around stiles' waist and pulls him closer, so that stiles is sitting on his lap, and they have one (1) bowl of popcorn between them that is half salt, half tomato. derek gives the remote to stiles and takes the bowl.

stiles is muttering about choosing a film. he insists, "since i called this pack meeting, i'll choose the film," to which erica says:

"batman, you called the meeting?"

derek scoffs when stiles puts on star wars. neither of them is paying any attention to the others, and cora and peter are enjoying the not-so-silent freak out from the others.

derek says, "not again, stiles."

"inflection, derbear, inflection! it is the soul—"

"—soul of language. yes, i know, stiles. but i fight—"

"—against the periods and commas because it's entertaining to see you squirm. i mean me. it's funny to you to see me squirm, you asshole!"

derek just smirks, and snatches the remote to fast-forward the beginning credits, to which stiles sings holy murder and snatches it back and rewinds to the beginning.

"great, now we have to watch it again. why do you never learn, derek?" cora gripes, and peter is just watching in amazement as lydia's eyes go big with the new information. she's getting it.

the movie starts, but nobody but derek and stiles are actually watching it. cora is sort of into it, but she's not into rewatching, so she's on her phone. peter is into watching and betting who will break first. the others are entirely focused on how derek and stiles are interacting, like stiles isn't fucking afraid of derek (at this point derek is still the angry, will break your hand in training if you piss me off alpha; at least to them), and that derek isn't fucking annoyed by stiles.

stiles and derek are just. chilling. throughout the movie, stiles settles into derek, and derek wraps his arms around stiles, and they're cuddling.

derek feeds stiles once every five minutes, because stiles just turns his head and says softly, "der." after the first 2 times, stiles doesn't even have to turn. once their popcorn is over, stiles reaches over and takes the hot dogs — nobody says anything about him taking four of it (one by one, not all at once) because duh — and eats one bite, then leans back to feed it to derek, and then just stays there while alternating the bites.

stiles is super engrossed in watching so he's 1000% oblivious to his surroundings, but derek isn't, and he's just fucking proud of providing for stiles and having him in his arms, showing stiles off as his.

he just doesn't give a shit to answer the other's questions.

so just. yeah. this. where derek and stiles are childhood friends, true mates, and nobody knows how close they are until they do, and they're like "wtf???" while derek is just super duper possessive and proud and stiles is oblivious until comments from the pack members makes him rethink things and he like stops doing the things he normal does with derek (scenting, cuddling, touching derek every chance he gets, spending all of his free time with derek... yeah). day 1 has stiles antsy. day 2 has derek angry at his pack because of course they're behind his stiles-starvation. day 3 has stiles having an epiphany and derek whining outside stiles' window until stiles lets him in and says, "how long have i been stupid?"

"this is the 3rd day."

"not — no. i mean like... how long have we been dating without dating?"

derek's eyes widen. heartbeat is going crazy. "you don't mind?"

"you have literally been treating out interactions as if we are mated, dude. i don't think that question has any merit now."

"don't call me dude."

"can i call you mine, then?"

and he goes to kiss derek when derek just smiles, this bashful little small smile, but derek backs off.

stiles sighs. "we are engaged to be mated, huh?"

"engaged to be engaged to be mated, actually."

"you mean to say you've basically pre-ordered me?!"

derek is horrified. "no! what the hell, stiles?"

"NOW you use inflection? wow."

they go back to cuddling like crazy, except now derek kisses stiles on the head, forehead, and knuckles, and stiles combusts every time because that is so sweet.

the pack never do get over this development. they get over stiles having magic in a week, tops, but derek and stiles? as alpha and future alpha mate? yeah no. impossible. still unbelievable. every pack night they watch these two instead of the movies, because it is one of the few times derek actually lets his guard down and acts non-asshole-ish to them.

[conundrumoftime]

Okay so look, here is why I want Celeborn in TROP as soon as he can feasibly get there

I know that many people feel he shouldn't turn up yet because at the moment Galadriel is still traumatised, brittle and emotionally entangled with Sauron. I want him to turn up now precisely because Galadriel is traumatised, brittle and emotionally entangled with Sauron.

I do not want him to swoop in and instantly save her from that, to be clear. I do not want him to be her reward for getting through it. I want him to turn up as an almost-stranger to a wife he's been away from for eight hundred years and see her now, see her as she is, hairtrigger temper and trauma and grief and unresolved situationship with Satan's Little Helper and all. I want his love for her to include all of that.

(Because! They don't have to stay together! Galadriel's family is full of couples who lived out their marriages on separate continents due to what I'll just briefly gloss over as Some Significant Ideological Disagreements. We know they end up together in Lothlórien but the characters have not read Lord of the Rings!)

I want him to see her tempted by power, and know that whatever they have later is built on that kind of understanding of what she wants and who she is and what she nearly did - and what she might still do. I want Sauron to still be offering her that in their 3000-year-long mind battle and for her to still be tempted by it and for Celeborn to know, to fully know, maybe to have it as an unspoken pain between them, maybe to be the only person she can trust to tell.

I do not want them to sit around holding hands and smiling gently at each other, yay missing husband's back hearts and flowers THE END. I want them to argue. I want those centuries of separation to matter. I want hurt feelings and pain and grief turned to anger, and to see how they navigate through that - why they navigate through that.

I want Sauron to try a divide-and-conquer approach with the two of them by showing Celeborn that raft-vision of Galadriel as his queen, and for Celeborn to find himself horrified by it and loving her despite it, and - perhaps! - really quite intensely turned on by the thought of it, too.*

I want them to rebuild that marriage, not just to resume it like they were never even apart. I want it to be worth rebuilding. I want him to love her, and not love the perfect past-temptation no-longer-fighty image of her that angry male Peter Jackson fans on Twitter have told me she is Supposed To Be - I want him to love this Galadriel, this broken and grieving and furious one, this one that still refers to Sauron as 'Halbrand' sometimes, this one who's on Numenor's list of Prisoners Who Haven't Yet Finished Their Sentence For Causing Sedition when Pharazôn turns up ("Did you actually - you know what, never mind, tell me later"). I want him to love her.

---

(* one of my Silmarillion incomplete draft fics is Thingol trying to warn Celeborn away from her by bringing up stories about her from the Helcaraxë, "well she looks all happy and peaceful mingling with our court now but can you imagine her drenched head to foot in the blood of a bear she just killed?", only Celeborn is the exact opposite of put off by this. "No! That's terrible! I must go and speak to her about it immediately in private and get all the details, just to assure myself about how terrible it was.")

[percyluvr]

percy x dionysus reader?

percy jackson x child of dionysus!reader summary: you enjoy a quiet picnic with your boyfriend wc: 589

Deep in the forest surrounding Camp Half-Blood, you'd set up a beautiful picnic for you and your boyfriend, Percy Jackson. Being a child of Dionysus, your skills in the kitchen were unmatched. You'd perfectly paired the picnic with drinks, a tiny bit of wine included, which you'd had to work extremely hard to get your dad to allow you to drink, especially on camp grounds with Percy Jackson, or 'Peter Johnson' as your dad had called him in the middle of his tangent about you taking wine to share with 'Peter Johnson' without offering to share any with your poor father who couldn't get his own wine.

You'd picked out a beautiful dark purple blanket that one of your siblings had and a black picnic basket. You'd made an assortment of foods, making sure to include blue foods because you knew how much it would mean to Percy. 

Now, you and Percy were walking hand in hand through the woods. You were practically bouncing up and down with anticipation to know how he would react. Typically, you and Percy would go to parties that your cabin or the Aphrodite cabin hosted, which could get pretty crazy. You two had never really had a calm date, and when you did try, there was usually some demigod problem that got into the way. You were just praying to your father especially that nothing at camp would get in the way of your date this time.

When you arrived at the spot for your picnic, Percy's eyes widened at the beautiful purple fairy lights that your siblings helped you string across the trees. His eyes landed on the carefully laid out picnic and you could see the excitement in his eyes. 

"I can't believe you would take the time to do this for me!" He said, picking you up and spinning you around.

"Of course Perce, why wouldn't I want to do something for my sweet and amazing boyfriend?" You said, thoroughly pleased at his reaction.

"Well, when you put it that way, I suppose there isn't a reason you wouldn't want to," he joked, putting you down but still grasping your hand, and walked with you over to the picnic. The two of you sat down on the soft velvet of the blanket and he started going through the basket.

When he caught sight of the bottle of wine, his seagreen eyes widened. 

"There's no way Mr. D let you take this, especially not to share with me."

"Oh trust me, you don't even want to hear how I convinced him to let me take just this one bottle," you said with a laugh.

He leaned over to you and left a soft kiss on your lips, and the two of you continued to unpack the picnic. You spent the rest of the day cuddled up and enjoying each other's presence, looking up at the clouds, and later into the night, the stars. 

That was, until your dad appeared out of nowhere and threatened to wrap vines around Percy and leave him there if you weren't returned to the big house in 10 minutes. You laughed in response, but could sense that Percy didn't find it nearly as funny. You ruffled his black hair, telling him that your dad probably wouldn't ever actually do that, which in all honesty probably didn't help at all.

On the way back to the cabins, Percy and you shared numerous kisses, and you definitely were not back in 10 minutes, much to your father's annoyance.

a/n: i saw somewhere that dionysus kids would be good at cooking and could pair any food with the perfect wine & i just thought that was such a cute hc and i totally agree! also to anon i hope this was acceptable for ur request <3

[pearlfeline]

a peter parker halloween

peter parker x spider!fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i quite like this actually lol this is the first thing i’ve written where i think i ended things quite organically however since i like it so much please let me know if you’d like a part two because i’m willing to try but also would like some ideas! thanks for reading! happy halloween!!

Like many, Peter enjoys Halloween. The problem is, Spider-Man does not. He liked it at first. All the cute kids dressing as him and how proud it made him. Nowadays, his costume is so mass produced that there’s people in the subway wearing his face with no pants on.

Patrolling on Halloween kind of felt like he was being mocked. Also wearing what he would consider his uniform on a day where he’s supposed to literally wear anything else wasn’t as exciting.

Peter’s schedule was always scattered but never to his disadvantage. He could afford to be spontaneous by getting slammed by a bus and make it to class in twenty minutes.

This Halloween night, he had gotten his classes out of the way, finished his extra-curriculars, and submitted all his homework right before it was time for his nightly sweep across New York.

Peter reached his front door, weakly shoving his key in spots that weren’t the keyhole.

You hear his keys jingle and rush to the door, unlocking it yourself.

“There he is!” You teased. “Happy Halloween! Who are you dressed as? Percy Jackson?”

Peter smiles tiredly. “Thanks for cleaning my room but you really didn’t have to.”

“Well it would've been mostly for May, considering she’s picked up after you for years.”

Peter sheepishly picks up his backpack that he tossed on the floor.

He notices you brought your Adventure Time blanket and draped it over the couch. There was fresh popcorn and you left your stuffed turtle posed to look like he was eating from the bowl.

“What’s this stuff?” Peter didn’t wait for a response but rather walked to his room to suit up for the night.

You waited for him to come back to the living room before giving him an answer.

“It’s a set up. For a lazy Halloween night in watching scary movies.”

“Lucky you.” He chuckled.

“No. Lucky you.” You corrected, grabbing his suit from over his shoulder.

“Since I know how you usually get worried on Halloween because people like to be irresponsible and sometimes just plain evil, I thought maybe I could give you the night off.” You tug on the collar on your shirt, exposing your suit underneath.

Peter gives you an incredulous look.

“Oh and the room cleaning thing wasn’t real I hope you know. White lie.” You added.

“..Yeah it’s still kinda messy in there.” Peter scratched the back of his neck.

“Understatement of the year.” You mumbled.

“Y/N.. I can’t just let you go do that alone if anything I’ll come with you.” Peter reaches for his mask in your hand.

You groaned.

“Stop being selfless just for tonight.” You pleaded with your eyes. “I can handle this! I’m just as cool and possibly cooler than you!”

“Fine.” Peter hangs his head and made his way to the couch.

“Hell yeah. Okay, I left a sandwich in the fridge that I picked up before I got here. Soooo have fun with that and enjoy your movie.” You pull off your shirt and pants and shoved them in your bag.

Peter gives an appreciative smile, watching you pull your mask over your face and leap out of his fire escape.

What you did was a very sweet thing. Peter was finally able to do something Halloweeny on Halloween. He picked out a few movies to watch in order, but two movies in he was hyper aware he was alone in a dark apartment. Excluding the stuffed turtle he was talking to.

“The CGI sucks.” He muttered, squishing the turtle close to his face, his eyes locked onto the screen.

What if he saw a scary figure in the dark? And if he got up to get the light would it move and attack him? Would he see something he doesn’t want to?

He peered over the couch to stare at the darkness in every corner of the dimly lit living room.

Peter cautiously paused the movie and quickly climbed onto the wall, scattering to the light switch before flicking it on.

He landed back on his feet and still felt upset.

Not only was being alone scary but even if it wasn’t it was just sad. He could’ve complained about the bad CGI to you instead of that little turtle.

You handled your patrol pretty well. Not much was happening except one little kid got separated from his group and didn’t want to walk back home alone. He gave you a piece of candy as a thank you.

As you sat on the edge of a building, you took a bite of your sandwich you packed for the night, watching the busy streets below.

Swoosh. A figure lands behind you and sets your stuffed turtle next to you.

“Timmy? Peter why are you here?” You were muffled by bread in your mouth.

Peter sat beside you and unwrapped his sandwich.

You tuck the turtle in your arms so he doesn’t fall off the ledge and give Peter a look.

“It’s… lonely back there. Plus, I got all the Halloween celebration I needed. I’m ready to get back at it now.”

You stare at Peter with a suspicious expression.

“You can just say the movie scared you.” You took another bite and swung your feet.

“C’mon can’t I just help you? I thought I was selfless?” He smirked proudly.

“You would never leave Timmy Turtle to fend for himself in a paranormal situation! You brought him because you’re scared of the monsters!” You pointed an accusing finger at him.

Peter lifts his mask up half way, taking a bite of his sandwich to avoid confrontation.

“It wasn’t a monster it was a spirit out for revenge.” He sighed.

“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes.

“Busy night?” He asked.

You shake your head. “Oh, but this kid gave me a KitKat.” You dig in your bag to find it.

“Dessert.” You tap it on your temple like you were being clever.

Eventually, you both finish your sandwiches and split the chocolate.

“Is this gonna be a lesson later about how I don’t need to patrol every Halloween night like this?”Peter crosses his legs and accepts his fate.

You shake your head. “No. I mean, you shouldn’t be overworking yourself like that. But, if no one was here tonight, that kid would be going home alone and probably super scared.”

“And that’s the best case scenario, you never know what’ll happen.” You added.

You jokingly punch Peter in the in the shoulder. “You’re a hero Peter. I just thought you needed some rest.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He chomps on his half of the KitKat and leans back, the palms of his hands supporting his weight.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“I should let you go out more often. It’s not that I don’t trust you I just…” Peter trailed off.

“I don’t want you to get hurt is all.” Peter turns to you.

You shrug. “That’s part of the job. But yeah I understand.”

“Though, I’m not opposed to helping you out more. The kid that I helped today called me spider sidekick.”

Peter snorts. “He’s not far off.” Peter pretends to stretch and flexes his muscles very unsubtly.

“Uh, I prefer apprentice and hopefully later on, partner.” You regret your choice of words as soon as ‘partner’ came out of your mouth.

Peter’s grin twitches a little, giving a small opened mouth smile that screamed “No, it’s okay I know what you meant. Don’t be embarrassed. Let’s pretend that never happened!”

Instead, he gives a small laugh.

“You’re already a great partner.”

You give Peter a short glance. That damn mask. What does that mean? Those dumb bug eyes were unreadable. The only thing you could see was his smile.

“A-Am I getting promoted?” You joked.

Peter takes his mask off. There they are. His eyes.

Were you crazy or was he being really forward all of the sudden?

“Truthfully Y/N, you’ve proven yourself a long time ago. You’re just as selfless as you think I am. I just needed to make sure… Even if that meant stalling the inevitable.” Peter takes a dig at himself.

“You’re pretty much faster than me at this rate, but stronger? Eh, I dunno.” He teases.

“I’m sorry I was being stubborn. You’ve been a partner for a long time. Training is officially over since tonight.”

Your heart sinks a little. Of course. He was just talking about work. Peter never flirts with you, he’s never done that before. Plus, this is a serious thing it’s never about flirting.

“Thanks Peter. You’re a real good mentor.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Man, I thought you’d be more excited.”

“No! No. I am excited it’s just.. It’s nice to hear you care about my safety and all that. Nice that you trust me with sharing this… duty.” You clear your throat.

Peter nods, satisfied.

“It’s hard.” He repositions to sit crisscrossed.

“But I know you can do it. And… sorry for making you go out here when it’s nothing happened. I swear I trust you to do the crazy dangerous things too.”

You nodded. “I know. But you didn’t make me do anything. This was just a favor I wanted to do for you.”

“Happy Halloween.” You smiled.

“Happy Halloween Y/N.” Peter returns the smile. He knew this whole thing was a lot for you to adjust to. The silence he created was nice. Not awkward like it used to be. He watched as you curiously peer over the busy street in fascination. He thinks to himself that every night is going to be like this for you from now on. Like it was for him. Maybe the company would do him some good.

[harveydentures]

One thing that’s enjoyable about Barduil as it sprung from the Peter Jackson trilogy is how Thranduil and Bard’s relationship is uneven in Thranduil’s favor in a social sense, but uneven in Bard’s favor in an emotional sense. Thranduil saves Bard’s life for openly selfish reasons and makes only vague attempts at connecting with him because ultimately he’s the one with the established power behind him, he doesn’t need to be friendly. But Thranduil’s arc, both in the movies and the books, involves a lot of turmoil and forced vulnerability that he’s obviously been intentionally avoiding for a long time. Much of the drama in the second half of the movie trilogy especially is about how other characters manage to squeeze feelings out of him. Bard is the stoic one here, because even though he’s less privileged, he’s the one who’s been in consistently challenging circumstances for a long time, and he’s adapted accordingly. Bard isn’t impenetrable, he possesses softness and warmth where it’s natural, but he’s much more emotionally sturdy than Thranduil.

And physically sturdy, as well! In the movies, Thranduil is constantly hiding a hideous disfigurement from his past conflict with dragons - the same conflict that killed his father as a result of Oropher’s rashness and bad thinking. Bard not only escapes the death of Smaug with his body intact, he saves his children as well. When Doriath was destroyed, Thranduil was still somewhere in the early stages of his life. When Laketown was destroyed, Bard was an adult and father in his own right. One man is living a reflection of the other’s past circumstances, as altered by the difference in culture & biology between Men and Elves.

Speaking of which, the difference in how elves & men respond to time also gives Bard a social advantage over Thranduil. He says himself that “100 years is a blink in the life of an elf.” After ten years, Bard will have absorbed what you and I would consider a decades worth of information about Thranduil. Thranduil, on the other hand, will have put a tiny fraction of that amount of thought into Bard. Ironic that he brags about this; it’s actually kind of an interpersonal handicap! But it makes sense that Thranduil wouldn’t pick up on that, because as Lee Pace says, he’s spent a long time sheltered. But Bard hasn’t.

[charlidos]

Surfing is another intergral part of the tales from the set of LotR. It was mostly the hobbits and Orlando learning to surf, but apparently "everyone else" was also dragged into it...

Orlando on surfing in NZ:

"When I arrived in Wellington I wanted to find some sort of extracurricular activity we could do outside Lord of the Rings, just to keep us sane. Mountainbiking, fly by wire, anything. Everyone was going 'I don't know', so I said 'How about surfing?' Billy Boyd was into it so that day we bought boards and went down to Lyall Bay, and the guys there were like 'All right lads, nice boards', because we had pristine wetsuits and new boards that were nicely waxed, then getting into the sea and falling off, but it was great and we eventually dragged everyone else in."'

One of these "everyone else" is Viggo. Any other time, Orlando thinks Viggo can basically do anything. But apparently, he can't surf.

According to Orlando, Viggo was so disastrously bad at it, they were all banned from doing it.

Coming to New Zealand was like a rebirth. After living in London for so long, I connected with nature again. I even learned to surf there. After Viggo Mortensen injured his head while surfing one day, they banned it. But halfway through filming, I thought: "I've shot too much film for them to fire me", and I started again.

So were they really banned from surfing for a while? I never heard that before. But seems the wild boys just needed to surf anyway!

The tale doesn't really specify if Viggo only tried surfing this once, when he happened to get injured. But Peter Jackson calls him a "non-surfer" and that he was "lured" into it. How did they actually do the luring? By the promise of a too pretty, shirtless elf, I bet.

Peter Jackson told the story of how Bloom and some of the hobbit actors had lured non-surfer Viggo Mortensen into action. Mortensen had shown up for work ready for shooting in the mines of Moria with "a huge swollen face, his right eye closed like a boxer", after a knock from his surf board. "For the scene we had to always shoot from the left-hand side," Jackson said. "We had no choice."

Orlando definitely looks ready to lure filthy humans into action here. He looks positively evil right there. Up to bad things, for sure.

Billy:

“He had the biggest black eye you’ve ever seen. Initially the hobbits were worried their friend had more than a bruise. When I asked if he was alright, he said, ‘I don’t know, am I?’ And when Viggo says that, you know something’s wrong.”

I never realised until this very moment, that the two pics of Viggo with the surfing magazine weren't actually taken in sequence; in one his hair is dry, in the other wet, and he's wearing a cardigan or something in one and not in the other. It's funny to think someone - possibly Orlando, since it looks like it's from inside the Cuntebago - made the effort to make Viggo pose with the magazine twice.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Stay Awhile & Listen

Elks Chapter 5 Version 2.0

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Joel's back from patrol and he has a surprise for you. Chapter Warnings: an abundance of softness, joel has feelings and actually talks about them!, smut, oral (m & f receiving), cum swallowing, a lot of feelings and then a lot of filth, couch shenanigans, they're falling hard for each other folks. Words: 4,700 Headers courtesy of @saradika-graphics.

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Masterlist Playlist “See The Changes” by Crosby, Stills & Nash. 

Your week is a slow, arduous march towards Saturday and Joel’s return. You’ve never paid much attention to the passage of time when patrollers are gone–at least, not until Joel. You miss him. 

Monday, you stay up too late playing the guitar Joel fixed for you. You wonder how far he is from Jackson.  Tuesday, you help in the gardens, watering, pruning, and harvesting fruits and vegetables until the sky turns dark. You wonder if he has enough food. Wednesday, you sketch a young elk surrounded by bluebells on a salvaged canvas. You wonder if he’s okay and safe. Thursday, you join your friends at the Bison, but you find yourself staring longingly at the table where you first saw Joel. The whiskey doesn’t taste nearly as good as it does when you’re at home drinking it with him. You wonder if he has a flask and if he’s thinking the same thing. Friday, you toss and turn embarrassed by how eager you are to see him again. You wonder if he misses you too.

The library has been slow today, the residents are busier during the summer months, you relish the slow time, allowing you to organize and catalog your books. 

You’re sitting cross legged on the floor of your classroom, rearranging a bookshelf when heavy bootsteps entering your room catch your attention. 

You turn, eyes widening when you see Joel, he’s wearing the same green plaid shirt you first saw him in all those months ago.

“Joel,” you gasp, a large grin lighting your face. “Hi.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets, his voice even more gravelly than usual. He looks tired, more worn from the days out on patrol. You admire him so much for what he does to keep everyone safe. 

You blink up at him, suddenly reminded of how big he is. He reaches down, offering his hand, and you take it, helping him pull you up.

His arms wrap around you in a hug that tells you he missed you just as much as you missed him. 

“Sorry, I’m filthy–haven’t even been home yet,” he murmurs against your hair. 

“You’re fine. You–I– missed you,” you sigh, inhaling the scent of him, he smells of Joel with a tinge of sweat and dirt. God, he smells good. 

He chuckles softly. “I missed you too.” 

You tilt your head up, failing at trying to hide your smile of excitement. He gazes down to your lips, slowly lowering his lips to meet yours, kissing you tenderly. God, how you missed him. His hands pull you closer, your hands grasp at his flannel-covered biceps. You sigh against his lips as his tongue licks against yours. 

The clang of the schoolhouse doors interrupt your kiss. Laughter echoes through the halls as a child’s voice grows louder. Joel steps back with a mischievous smirk. 

“I finished the book!” Claire, the daughter of your friends Robin and Peter, bursts into the room, holding up a well-loved copy of James And The Giant Peach. “I loved it!”

“Oh, that’s great news! I knew you would kiddo,” you say, walking over to high-five her. You greet Robin with a nod and a smile, she does a double-take when she spots Joel standing in the classroom. 

“Yeah! It was soooo good!” Claire says excitedly. “What can I read next?” 

You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Well, hmm. If you liked that one so much, how about you try another Roald Dahl?” You pull a paperback off the shelf with a friendly looking old giant on the cover. “The BFG, it’s just as fantastical and fun as James.”

Joel watches you from the same spot, you feel his eyes on you the whole time. 

“It sounds so good!” Claire says, happily thumbing through the pages as you fill out the check out card. “Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome. Hope you like it kiddo,” you say. 

“Come on, let’s get home so you can start on your book,” Robin says, gently taking Claire’s hand. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” you smile. 

Joel stands silently, nodding a goodbye at Robin as they turn and leave. 

“I should head out. I haven’t had a shower since Monday, and I need to go pick up something from Tommy and Maria’s. Do you still want to come over tonight?” The way he looks at you, hope rounding his brown eyes as he waits for your answer, makes your heart thud against your chest. 

“Y-yes,” you smile. “Of course.”

“Great,” he says,  cupping your chin and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Come over when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

You’ve never been outside the gates of Jackson since your arrival. You’ve lived with barriers longer than without them, so why would you ever sign yourself up to see what lies beyond the iron and wood confines? You know how little you understand about surviving out there—less, even, than your own students. You’re sheltered, and you’ve never doubted that. You’re okay with it. Joel? Not so much.

“You’ve never wanted to leave?” he asks, sitting beside you on his couch, his arm casually draped around your shoulders, the other hand holding a cup of coffee as he relaxes after dinner.

“Not really,” you reply, setting your empty cup on the table, “I’ve really had no reason, and it was never asked of me. I’m sure it’s really dumb of me.”

“Not dumb, just not smar–“

“Just say dumb, Joel,” you tease, turning toward him with a grin.

“Never call you dumb.” His hand reaches up, cradling your cheek gently. “I just think you should know the basics of how the world works outside here. Just in case there’s a problem. I don’t like the idea of you being unprepared. Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“I do,” you say, resting your head against his chest. “They put us through a rudimentary training program here when I first got here. I know how to defend myself.”

“Rudimentary?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, it means basic.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’re so smart, glad there’s people like you still around.”

“Well,” you say, tilting your head up to look at him, “you just spent almost a week in the wilderness protecting us and scavenging for supplies. I’m glad there are people like you.”

He hums, with a thoughtful look on his face. “Speaking of supplies, I’ve got something for you. S’why I wanted you to come over tonight. Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you, okay?”

“Is it good, Joel?” you ask, feeling the excitement build inside.

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “Of course it’s good. Go on, now do what I said.”

You close your eyes, placing your hands over them for extra measure. You hear him grunt softly as he stands, then feel his hand gently tip your chin up as he steals another quick kiss before walking away.

You feel giddy as you hear him walk away, you try to ascertain where he’s headed over the soft music playing, hearing his footsteps bound up the stairs. You don’t dare peek.

“Eyes still closed?” Joel shouts from upstairs.

“Yes!” you yell back, your voice sparking with excitement.

“Alright, comin’ down,” he says, his heavy footsteps thudding down the steps. “Don’t peek.”

“I’m not. Promise.”

You rock back and forth on the edge of the couch, feeling nervous excitement flutter throughout your body as you hear Joel take a seat on the coffee table across from you. You haven’t felt this type of excited nervousness in years. 

“You can open ‘em,” he says softly. 

You open your eyes, first focusing on Joel, sitting there with a shy, half-smile on his face. A small gray box in his lap catches the corner of your eyes. Your heart skips a beat when you realize what it is. 

“How in the world…? Joel! How did you find this?” your voice peaks with elation as you snatch the small stereo from his lap.

“Traded Tommy for it. He ’n Maria need a crib, so I just signed myself up to furnish their kid’s room in exchange.” 

“You didn’t have to do that! I don’t want to take their stereo. I can’t do that to them,” you reluctantly lift the stereo towards him, feeling guilty. 

“They’ve still got a record player and besides, they were happy to help you out once I told Tommy it was for you,” he says, gently pushing the stereo back into your lap. “It’s small, but it’ll do until we can find you something better.” 

You push down on the CD door and watch it pop open, you’re amazed the hinges still work. You had something like this back in middle school. It was blue, and covered it in butterfly and smiley face stickers. 

“Joel, this is… wow,” you say, tears welling in your eyes at his thoughtfulness. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me. You just fixed my guitar last week, and now this?” You hastily wipe a rogue tear that escapes away. “I can’t thank you enough, this is so sweet.”

“No need for tears, it was nothing,” he wipes a tear from your cheek. “Really sweetheart, I wanted to do this for you.” 

He takes the stereo from your lap, setting it down on the table beside him. “I still feel like I owe you so much for what you did in there,” he nods towards his studio. “For years I never believed beauty could exist in this world. People like you… they don’t usually survive. And then one day, I walk into my home and see you there with Ellie. I finally meet the teacher she wouldn’t stop talking about.” His voice softens, as he gazes into your eyes. “You were so beautiful, ’n when you left, you forgot your CD. I listened to it, selfishly, because I wanted to know more about you.”

His words wrap you in a feeling you’ve never felt before. You’re speechless, the moment and Joel’s revelation far too tender to break with words. 

“All the songs on there I’d never heard, pretty new things you left that I got to hear. Then, you fall ’n I bring you in here, you tell me you painted that elk picture… all I could think about was how beautiful you were, inside and out. Just like your painting–hell–just like everything you do. Your classroom, how pretty it is, how nice you made it for your kids, how you painted the flowers everywhere.” His voice drops, low and warm as he spills his heart into your accepting hands. “After all these years of living the way I did, I needed you to bring something like that into my life. Every time you’re not around, I can’t wait to see you again. Damn near lost my mind on patrol because of how much I missed you.“ 

He leans closer, his calloused palm tenderly cradles your face, his thumb tracing circles across your chin. “I keep on thinking about that enigma word you called me.. but you’re the enigma for me. You still want to make this world better… and you do, sweetheart. I can’t believe you’re here, so caring, so soft, so smart, ’n so beautiful. I like when you’re near me, I like how you make me feel new after all this time.” 

Your chest tightens and blooms all at once, warmth spreads across your body. Joel’s always a man of few words, but the way he confesses his feelings, the way his voice deepens as he tells you how he feels, it makes you want him even more.

“Joel,” you whisper. “I like being near you too.” You can’t think of anything else to say.

His face softens, relief and affection behind his gaze. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he leans forward and kisses you.

Your hands grab his solid arms. He’s so big and strong, yet his skin is always so soft and cushioned against your touch. 

His tongue parts your lips, moving languidly as he explores your mouth. You taste the remnants of coffee left over on his tongue. The way his mouth fits against yours after his words of adoration makes you deepen the kiss grasping his arms tighter.

You need Joel, you’ve thought about last Saturday all week, tensity radiating through your body whenever you’d think about the feeling of your body pressed against his. Every night since, lying alone in bed, you’ve been tempted to reach your hand between your legs and soothe the want, but you refused yourself. You dedicated a whole page in your sketchbook to drawing his plush lips, and now they’re back on you. 

You break away from the kiss, your breath ragged as you rest your forehead against his, your hands still clutching his arms. “I’ve been thinking about you… every night,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, your lips brushing his as you speak.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been thinkin’ about you too,” he rasps.

“I just… I keep thinking about how little time it’s been.” You nervously stammer. “Everything is happening so fast, and I like it, but… I don’t know. Is it okay?”

He rubs your knees as he thoughtfully muses. “It’s okay with me, if it’s okay with you. Time isn’t the same as it was, you take what you can get with the time you’ve got.”

You nod in agreement as goosebumps prickle along your legs from his touch. 

“You were in here only a few weeks ago when you fell,” Joel looks down at your knees. “Still can see some of the marks left from the rocks.” His fingers press into your skin firmer, like he’s trying to contain himself. “You’ve been on my mind since then… sometimes you’re all I can think about. I know it hasn’t been long, but…” His hands slide up to your thighs. “I want you, ‘n I really hate wasting time.”

His lips crash against yours. He’s never kissed you like this– so tender yet so intense. His hands knead your thighs, with slow, deliberate care, in the same way he touched your knees. His tongue brushes against yours, pulling a moan from your throat. His touch is firm with tensity and yet he caresses you gently. Your arms wrap around his neck as you lift yourself off the couch. Your knees knock against the table as you straddle his thick thighs and sit on Joel’s lap, never breaking the kiss. 

Two weeks, it’s only been two weeks. Two weeks of longing glances, shared stories over meals, quiet understandings, and feelings blooming like the flowers that bloom all around Jackson. You’ve wanted this since the moment you first saw him, and the desire only grew once he was no longer a handsome stranger. Now, you’ve reached an ignition point, and Joel is right there with you, holding the match. 

His hands grab your hips, you can feel him against you, his pants tenting against your core.

Denim rubs against denim as you grind down on Joel’s lap. His mouth moves down your jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck down to your collarbone. He explores you like he’s mapped his journey in his head. 

You lean your head back, moaning softly when his hands slide up your torso, cupping your breasts. He kisses his way back up your neck, you reach for his jaw, feeling the bristle of his beard against your palms. His eyes meet yours, darkening with desire. 

“Joel…” you breathe out, your voice trembling.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“I—I want you.”

“Heh,” a low chuckle rumbles as his forehead rests against yours. “I want you too, baby.”

Baby. A new name, nobody has ever called you baby. Your lips part with a soft moan. He catches it with his kiss, his lips tugging on your bottom lip.  

His hands grip your hips, pulling you down harder against him as you grind, trying to soothe the ache between your legs. 

His hand slips beneath your shirt, a calloused hand palms at the soft skin of your breasts. You haven’t been touched by anybody in over a year, but this? You’ve never been touched like this ever. Other men pale in comparison to Joel Miller. 

Your shirt feels too hot against your skin, you grab the hem of it and pull it over your head. He leans back slightly, his eyes devouring your half naked body. He lets out a low, rumbled curse as you sit bare chested on top of him. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “Smell so sweet.” 

His mouth trails lower and buries his head between your breasts, thumbs stroking against your nipples as they harden under his touch. His mouth finds your breast, plush lips sealing over your nipple, your back arches when he sucks it farther in. A needy whine escapes your lips at the sensation, as you grab his shoulders. The want in you begins sparking even hotter at his touch. 

“Good baby?” he asks, his voice muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your breast. Baby again.

“Y-Yes, want your shirt off,” you gasp out. “Want to feel your skin.” 

He pulls back just enough and straightens, lifting his faded black shirt up and off, tossing it behind you onto the couch. 

Your hands move instinctively, feeling the broad expanse of his chest. He’s so warm, you feel the raised skin of the small scars scattered across his body, reminding you of the cruelty this man who holds you gently has experienced. A smattering of hair across his chest leads a trail down his belly to his jeans. Your hands follow the path, fingers lingering at the waistband. His breath hitches as your hands move lower, your fingers unbutton and unzip his jeans.

“Couch, let’s move,” Joel hisses out. “Here, get up."

You rise on shaky legs. He stays seated on the edge of his coffee table, his hands holding your hips drawing you closer to plant a kiss on your stomach. 

“Want to see all of you first,” he says, voice thick with longing. “Been thinking ‘bout this after that first day you were on my couch.” 

Your cunt clenches at his words, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, and he’s barely even touched you. 

Joel unbuttons and unzips your shorts, glancing up at you for reassurance. You nod, giving him a small smile that he returns. He pushes your shorts and underwear down, leaving you bare and standing in the middle of his living room. Dark brown eyes roam over your body fully on display for him, brows furrowed in concentration as if he’s trying to memorize every mole, curve, scar, and mark on you.

“Can’t get over how pretty you are,” he breathes out, standing up from the coffee table. He leans forward, taking your chin in his hand and places a kiss on your lips. “Now, sit on the couch for me baby.” 

You slowly lower yourself onto the cushions, pushing your legs together to try to quell the ache in between them.

He stands, his large body towering over you, jeans slung low on his hips, his cock pressing rigidly against the denim. He bends down to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart, exposing all of you to him. 

You can feel his breathing accelerate against you as his fingers glide over your folds, testing your response. You moan into his mouth as he dips a finger in and traces a line from your clit to your entrance and back.

You’ve imagined him doing this to you back when he was just a crush, just a handsome stranger, your enigma. You never imagined how thick his finger would be, how gentle his touch would feel, how his teeth would gently nibble against your bottom lip. 

“Christ. You’re so tight and it’s just one finger baby,” Joel says, voice low and whispered as he looks down. “Can I taste you?"

You have no words, you grunt a yes as he lowers himself on the floor and pulls you forward, spreading your legs wider. You’re not even shy, being on full display like this, legs stretched open to expose your soaked cunt. You want him to see all of you, it’s all you’ve ever wished for since that first day you saw his handsome face.

He leans forward, nuzzling his nose against your core. His low groan vibrates against you when his tongue licks its way up and down the shape of you.

His dark brown eyes gaze into yours when he looks up from in between your legs. You can’t stop staring at him, almost in disbelief that Joel Miller’s tongue is swirling gentle circles around your clit while the lines between his eyebrows are set in determination, wanting to make you feel good.

Your hips begin to cant against his mouth. And when he adds a second finger, slowly pumping and stretching you, your fingers run through his hair, softly combing the waves as his fingers and tongue devastates you.

He’s proven to you numerous times how much he cares for you, but this? This is the ultimate way. This is the care you’ve always wanted. 

It’s all so overwhelming. What the two of you are doing here in his living room, the build up over the past couple of weeks, the crush you’ve harbored for months, now culminating here on this very couch. The same couch where he once touched you so tenderly while he bandaged your knee. Now those same hands roam your body and grips your thigh, holding it wide open as he devours you. 

Your orgasm climbs within you with each lick against your swollen clit, each rub of his beard against your sensitive folds, each twist of his fingers inside you. You’re close, so fucking close, and when Joel moans against you, your pussy clenches as it floods with your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out, his tongue licking down to drink you in, tenderly lapping up your wetness, like he’s savoring you and trying to stretch out the time he has between your legs. You moan his name as he leaves a kiss on your clit before pulling away, his mouth and chin glistening. 

Your body tremors through the aftershock of your orgasm, legs still spread wide, mouth held agape as you pant for air. His hands rub up and down your legs, watching you in awe.  

“Everything about you is too sweet,” he says with a shake of his head as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still can’t believe you’re real."

He leaves a kiss against your knee before bracing his hands on the couch, anchoring himself to stand. He winces as he rises and stretches his back out with a groan. 

“You okay?” you ask, leaning back against the couch, noticing how his cock still lays hard underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, just a bad back… probably shouldn’t have been on the floor for that long,” he sees you grimace in guilt, “but it was well worth it.” 

He settles on the couch next to you with a huff, pulling you into him, pressing you into his bare chest against yours. 

“What about…” your hand runs up and down his thigh. 

“Mm?” Joel kisses the top of your head. 

“What about me… doing the same for you?” your hand moves to grip his bulge. “I want to taste you too.”

He groans against your hair. “Yeah?” his voice tinges with awe. “Not gonna argue with that sweetheart.”

You quickly rise from the couch, your body thrumming at the thought of having him in your mouth. Now you can show him how much you’ve thought about this moment.

“You just might be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen baby,” he whispers in awe as you stand between his legs. “S’not gonna take me long.”

Accepting his sweet words, you kneel down and tug at his jeans and briefs revealing his cock. It’s so large, just like his focus on you, just like the tension in the room, just like the orgasm he just gave you. 

Your hand rests against his thigh, rubbing back and forth across the soft hair. When your other hand wraps around his thick shaft, your eyes follow the gulp of air he swallows travel down his neck. His skin is so soft here, so warm, you can’t wait to feel him inside your mouth. You slowly pump your fist down his length while lowering yourself to the floor.

God, he’s gorgeous. His cock twitches in your hand as you hold it, wetting your lips, you bend forward and lick the drop of precum that’s leaked the tip. You moan at the taste. Salt, sweat… Joel. He lets a low curse growl out of his mouth when you take him deeper into your mouth. He stretches your lips, opens your throat, and fills your mouth fully. 

“S’good,” he croaks, his hand brushing a piece of hair away from your forehead. “So pretty.”

He groans when you swirl your tongue along his wide tip, leaving a kiss against it as Joel looks down at you with lust filled eyes of adoration. 

He feels so good in your mouth, velvety and rigid, you begin to bob your head down his length, taking him to the back of your throat. The thought of how much his big cock will fill your cunt sends a flutter through your body. 

He tangles his hand in your hair, lightly tugging and setting a pace as you suck him. 

“S’good baby, close— m’close,” he groans, his hips rising and falling to meet your movements.

You nod and hum in agreement hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder. 

His hips pull up, your name deeply hums out of his mouth as he cums down your throat. You swallow every drop, reveling in the taste of him now being a part of you. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, shaking his head, as he pulls you into his lap, his hands wrapping around your waist. “S’amazing.” 

You giggle, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You still can’t quite believe your luck to know and feel Joel the way you do now.

“So, about the CD player,” Joel’s voice breaks through the silence, “I’ve decided it comes with a condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you come with me outside of Jackson for a day.”

“Joel…” 

It’s too late for ultimatums, the only reason you haven’t gotten off his couch and walked home is you’re too comfortable laying against his body that’s currently only clad in his underwear while all you wear is his t-shirt.

“It’s important, it doesn’t have to be now, but soon,” he continues, his tone serious, like he’s overly concerned about your safety and wellbeing. “Please do it for me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what’s out there…”

“And I do,” he reassures. “I’ll keep you safe, it doesn’t have to be long… just long enough so if you ever do have to leave… it won’t be your first time out in years,” he urges. “Get your bearings ’n everything.” 

“You think I’ll be okay out there?”

“I wouldn’t ask of it if I didn’t think you’d be okay.”

You nod softly. “I guess it makes sense.”

“S’pose so. Doesn’t have to be now but just, when the time is right, I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Okay… if it means I get to keep the CD player.”

He tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “You get to keep the CD player darlin’.”

Neither of you moves for the rest of the night, falling asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. You don’t leave until morning.

Stay Awhile & Listen - Joel's Version

[troublesomesnitch]

Book Sauron vs. Movie Sauron

(and why people complain about Rings of Power's portrayal of the character. In my opinion). Nerd rant I guess.

I think a big reason why a some viewers are unhappy with RoP Sauron is that there is a big discrepancy between Sauron in the books, and Sauron in the Peter Jackson trilogy. And most people have probably only seen the movies (which is fine, I am not a book purist and I have personally only read 1.5 of the books, and tbh I found them pretty boring.)

But anyway:

In the films, Sauron is an entity. He can’t take physical form. He is evil incarnate, a nameless fear, a flaming eye etc. Whereas in the books, Sauron is way more of a person and actual character.

We only hear stuff about him from other people, but he does have a physical form. Sauron personally tortured Gollum, and Gollum was later able to describe his appearance to Gandalf, saying that he was missing some fingers on one hand from when Isildur defeated him. We also learn from Eomer that Sauron had approached Rohan wanting to buy horses from them. Rohan refused, so Sauron just stole the horses instead - but his initial intention was to buy the animals fair and square, with normal human currency. At a "great price" according to Eomer.

Recently I also read that Sauron had apparently become somewhat fond of Shelob and jokingly referred to her as his cat lmao. That is mentioned in the Shelob chapter in The Two Towers. Just little things like that make a huge difference. I cannot imagine movie!Sauron making jokes like that.

Mordor is also different book to movie. In the books, there are some farmlands in the Southern parts of Mordor, which makes sense because orcs do need food obviously. Return of The King says this:

"Neither he nor Frodo knew anything of the great slave-worked fields away south in this wide realm, beyond the fumes of the Mountain by the dark sad waters of Lake Nurnen; nor of the great roads that ran away east and south to tributary lands, from which the soldiers of the Tower brought long waggon-trains of goods and booty and fresh slaves. Here in the northward regions were the mines and forges.”

In Tolkien’s own illustrations, Mordor also looks a little bit more normal.

All that to say: if your idea of Sauron is an evil-incarnate entity who has no physical form and only talks in raspy, wheezing Black Speech, then yes, it is probably very grating to see Charlie Vickers running around with hair bows and pretty little ringlets falling in his face, being sarcastic, flirting with elf-maidens etc. But I personally don't think there is anything inherently un-Tolkien about it. Despite Tolkien's vocal dislike of allegory, Sauron is a pretty obvious allegory for the devil/Lucifer - he is quite literally a fallen angel taking on various forms to tempt and charm people into doing his bidding. I think the true evil-incarnate character is Morgoth. Sauron is more likely to weight his options and try for a diplomatic solution before throwing all his resources into waging war on people.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

i’m not brave enough to actually verbally request this but this link explains 🫣

https://www.tumblr.com/uncharted4bliss/733772501952380928/the-world-needs-more-premature-ejaculation-smuts

i'm thinking...very, very hard LOL

nsfw below the cut...

tasm!peter parker

he quite literally came from just the slightest graze over his heams when you two were having a very heated make out session.

his heightened senses are to blame tbh.

he tries to hide it at first, but you always know when he’s cum. 

his cheeks get red, and his eyes wander to try and avoid your gaze (i need him so bad it’s so not funny anymore)

joel miller–jackson era

this man hasn’t been touched in so long, let’s be honest.

now that he’s in jackson, he can finally let his guard down…especially with you.

he’s grinding into your warm core, you two are both fully clothed. the night just starting.

the friction sends him over the edge.

joel gets embarrassed, and he starts to apologize. you quickly cut him off, letting him know that it’s cute that he can’t help himself (which he doesn’t take lightly…aka he fucks the attitude out of you).

pattinson!bruce wayne

poor baby has been so stressed lately.

he needs you so bad, and you know this. letting him relax for the night.

he’s whining as you sink onto his cock.

you rock back into him for the second time as you feel it.

his cum is shooting into you, there’s no doubt about it. 

he’s also very apologetic, but you remind him that tonight is all about him and that he has nothing to be sorry about. 

matt murdock

matt is very similar to peter when it comes to heightened senses, except for the fact that matt’s is magnified by one hundred.

he’s eating you out when it happens because matt is a munch (duh).

just the taste of you has him cumming on the sheets.

he’s not even embarrassed (man whore).

he’s too focused on your upcoming orgasm to put his needs before yours.

din djarin

my man is extremely touch starved.

i think that it’s the little things that drive him crazy.

a little kiss on his neck, you finger trailing up and down his arm…things like that.

so when he gets to experience your touch fully, he can’t handle himself.

you’ve been pumping his cock for like a minute max, but as soon as your warm mouth sucks on his neck, his cum coats your hand. 

he’s bucking into your hand, needing more even though he just came.

din is breathless, he’s too dazed to care about anything. he just wants you. 

--author's note: oh this is...so good. I AM A SLUT OKAY?? I DONT CARE!!! i love my boyfriends!!!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support your writers. my asks/inbox is open!!! send me more things so i can be silly and feed into both of our delusions:))) ok, bye ily<3333

[hello-there]

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[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Six

Paul and Linda: walk in. Me: Panics in bisexual

He’s so weird. He’s been carrying her purse, gives it back, then tries to change his mind again and the look she gives him. ‘You’re very cute, but I can carry my shit.’ 

But the “Linda’s a cameraman.” Rare Paul feminism moment. Slow clap.

And then instantly, “I’d better go and put in some piano practice.” You fucking addict. Linda, what are you getting yourself into, girly?

“Actually, we’re going on a farm in Scotland.” “I’d love to find a . . . a farm.” I wonder at what point he showed it to her. So far, they’ve done the dirty weekend in LA, Christmas in Liverpool and Portugal, a stay in New York, and now London. Have they done the Mull of Kintyre at this point? Oh, boy. Today might be the Paul and Linda show for me, folks :/

Why does she look like a loving mom watching her daughter’s dance audition? 

Paul taking Mal’s advice on “Standing” VS “Waiting” 

“I feel the most relaxed around Ring.” Linda/Paul/Ringo threesome fic when?

Ringo again with the EXCELLENT taste in jackets. That blue is So pretty. With the black velvet collar. Immaculate. 

“There’s enough obstacles without putting them in the song” is the most Paul quote ever. It’s like his artistic mission statement. The surface read of Paul’s songs is that they’re just these weightless, meaningless, pretty nothings. But the real read (part of) is that they’re meant as comforters, bolsterers, flashlights, and silver linings. 

He does love a good pair of hands, doesn’t he?

He really is showing off for her, though, here. When Linda hasn’t been here, has Paul ever just sat down at the piano and run through all his new songs? Not even close. And it’s so immature and so lovely.

“It was like a comedy, when I heard it.” Proceeds to sing some of the most heavy, blue lyrics. The above comment on Paul’s music notwithstanding, I must admit there are also extreme levels of emotional repression going on. 

“Castle of the King of the Birds”!!!!!!! First of all, who is the "king of the birds" if not Paul McCartney? It’s so extremely beautiful. Achingly so. When I fist heard it, I was like “where have I heard that before?” and when Peter Jackson pointed out that it’s the Top Gun theme? How many songs out there are actually Paul McCartney’s illegitimate children? Like, be Lennon/McCartney with me, for a minute here, and translate this sexual metaphor into musical terms. Paul just jerks it a bit, and before he can even finish, about ten people are pregnant from a drop of his precum and ten magical star children are born who he has no idea of. Does that make any kind of sense at all to anyone?

Honestly love the political version of get back. And clearly so does Yoko. That’s the most I’ve seen her get into a song they’ve written, like, ever. Hey, guys. I have an idea. Maybe you should ask the actual immigrant for ideas on your pro-immigration song. Just a thought. 

 When you’re trying to flirt with your new GF but your ex keeps making you giggle

A vignette of Lennon/McCartney’s writing process. Paul: trying to make up some lyrics. John: makes a joke lyric. Paul: puts it in and it works better than what he had. John: 

John: I’ll be taking me shirt off. Paul: definitely not picturing it at all

Okay but my hot take is that the first two verses at least of “Came in through the bathroom window” are a diss track at Jane. Seriously though, it’s got to be one of my many underrated favs to come out of these sessions. Also, they’re so in love doing this one, my heart can’t take it. 

“This isn’t daddy’s tea, is it?” And Yoko just, without skipping a beat, says, “No.” Girl, I know he’s the one calling you mommy in bed, don’t lie. 

It’s the mutual caring of it all, you know? How he’s sitting in her lap while playing with her hair. How he makes her laugh and she buries her face in his tummy. Gosh, she’s gonna love that tummy for almost thirty years. And while the breakup is heartbreaking, isn’t that lovely to think about? 

George, you should’ve made a Bob Dylan cover album. He sounds sooo pretty. 

Ah, yes. The “Just Let it Be, love. He’s not going to leave you.” Dream Song. Which John does not look enthusiastic about. And then it becomes “Well, you said he wouldn’t leave me, mama. But, you know, he went and did it.”

Peter Jackson, WHERE is that Linda/Yoko dish session audio, you absolute monster! Those are Not small-talk faces. Would I rather listen to what they’ve got to say than hear one of the twentieth century’s greatest masterpieces come to be? Yes. Yes, I would.

[takaraphoenix]

Four months into my Teen Wolf renaissance and I am kind of fascinated by the way my interaction with it changed and shaped with this current rewatch of the show, the shift in priorities.

I used to monoship in this fandom. There was Sterek and nothing else.

Now I'm juggling multiple ships and my first ever poly-ships for this fandom. Which is a delight, because I'm a polyamorous person first and a writer second so to actually have poly-ships in this fandom sparks a whole lot of joy for me. So does generally having multiple ships, because I've always been a multishipper.

It's interesting though, that with these multiple ships, it has become very clear to me what's my actual most important dynamic for this fandom. Because it doesn't matter what the Stiles ship is, it doesn't even matter who the pack Alpha is and what pack we're talking about, I need Boyd and Erica to be alive and to be in Stiles' pack. These three mean the fucking world to me, they're the core. The pack around them may change, the romantic ship for Stiles may change, but those two are alive and together and beautiful and Stiles' pack.

Other things, I am much more flexible on. There are characters I don't particularly care whether they're portrayed as good friends or bad friends, but if a fic goes outta their way to keep Boyd and Erica alive just to have them be bad to Stiles, I am out of that story faster than you can look.

Jackson is slightly more negotiable. He's still very important to me and I prefer him to be in the pack, but there is also something appealing to him being in London and him and Stiles building a long-distance friendship after the Nogitsune, that phone calls and texts might make it easier for Stiles to talk about what happened, that the Nogitsune trauma and the kanima trauma bonds them. I prefer them to be pack, but they don't have to be, as long as they are still friends. If I have to see Jackson post season 2 sticking around and being pack, just to then be a bully to Stiles, I am also out.

Like. I do fully understand that all three have, you know, more or less antagonistic pasts toward Stiles. I also understand fics that just turn everyone aside from [romantic partner] against Stiles for max angst. It's just that these three? These three hurt me to read as bad friends.

The more I write and read for the fandom, the more important does Alpha Peter become to me too. Even outside of romantic Steter, it just... feels wrong to me when he's a beta even more wrong when he's Scott's beta ngl. There is so much healing, redemption and hope in the idea of Peter as an Alpha who gets to rebuild the Hale Pack and keep his family's legacy alive.

Used to be Derek for me, but the more I think about it, the... unhappier he seems as an Alpha in canon and the fonder I grow of the idea of him getting to be a Right Hand. Of him getting a second chance with a Hale Pack but without the burden of having to try and be the Alpha. (I do still love writing and reading Alpha Derek though, especially when it's Sterek. But if I had to pick a favorite Hale Pack dynamic, it'd have to be Alpha Peter and Right Hand Derek.)

Now, out of this list, Peter was the only real surprise. Even back in 2014, when I first got into this fandom, I preferred my Berica alive and as friends with Stiles and I liked my Stackson brOTP.

But genuinely the biggest surprise to me is how much I latched onto Spark Stiles, because this was something I used to actively avoid. I used to think of that as nonsense. I mean, come on, that was one episode and canon moved on from that, how did you grow that attached to it.

Somehow, this rewatch, I just feel very indignant about the fact that they really gave Stiles magic for one episode and then did jackshit with it. What the hell. After ten years, I finally understand why the fandom couldn't let go of that.

Comfortingly enough did my favorite thing not change in the past ten years though. Give me Pack Mom Stiles or give me death. That's still the best damn thing this fandom ever did, in my opinion, and whatever the ship or the pack or who the Alpha is, Stiles is Pack Mom.

But it is interesting to see how my own interaction with the story and the characters has changed over the past decade and on this third to fifth watch (depending on what season we're talking about. I've seen the first two seasons more often than the rest).

[farfromharry]

Let it be | Dating Stiles Stilinski

pov: you’re dating Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Between werewolf stuff and having to now babysit Jackson, you and Stiles didn’t get much alone time. So any opportunity to head out on a date was taken and savoured. But tonight was different, tonight you decided was the night you were going to tell Scott you were together.

Word count - 3472

Warnings - language

Based on: season one, episode ten

. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Let it be by The Beatles ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ .

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Chasing after Jackson’s dumbass on a Saturday was not your ideal way to spend your weekend. You’d tried to worm your way out of it with sly kisses and puppy dog eyes to your boyfriend, hoping to butter him up enough that he’d just let you sleep in instead. But it backfired completely, he still dragged you out of bed and out of the house with a simple statement that you had to go babysit Jackson from the Argents. This was all Peter’s fault and you were really cursing him right now.

“Don’t you think he can look after himself?” you tried for possibly the thousandth time from the backseat of your boyfriend’s jeep. Scott just sighed again. “No, and you know why. So please stop asking.” 

When you pulled into the empty parking lot you could already see Chris Argent making conversation with the boy you were looking for, the one thing you really could’ve done without. It meant you actually had to engage with Jackson, rather than just watching him from afar. 

The rock music from Stiles’ radio was blasting, that plus the screech of the car’s tires alerted the two males of your arrival. “Yo,” Scott greeted. Stiles nodded. “What’s up?” 

You stayed silently, firmly placed in your seat, intent on not interacting with Jackson for the sake of your own sanity. You really didn’t like him, not that your friends did. He was just so unbelievably unbearable to talk to.

Scott pretended like you hadn’t just been watching them from a distance. “Is everything okay?”

Chris greeted the boy but you could sense the irritation even from where you were sitting. You'd obviously interrupted the start of his plan and he wasn’t happy about it, but that’s exactly what you were there for. “Your friend here was just having car trouble. I’m taking a look.” 

There was so much tension between the older man and your bestfriend that it could literally have been cut with a blunt knife. Jackson was shuffling awkwardly, feeling like he’d been caught in the middle of two parents fighting, unsure what he was meant to do or say. He didn’t even know why Mr Argent was being so kind to him, nor why you, Scott and Stiles suddenly wanted to be best buds. 

“There’s a shop right down the street, I’m sure they’ll have a tow truck.”

“Do you want a ride?” Stiles asked. Scott pushed open his door, making it obvious that he’d let him in if he agreed. You knew this was the plan but part of you was actually hoping he’d say no so you didn’t have to sit with his arrogant ass for however long.

“Come on Jackson. You’re way too pretty to be out here all by yourself.” You snorted in the back seat, muttering a ‘yeah right’ that earned you a light swat to your knee, a quick glare from your boyfriend having you holding your hands up in surrender.

Scott just stared at him, lowering his eyebrows slightly to try and emphasise the fact that he really needed to get in the car. Jackson just nodded, heading over to where the door to the passenger side was still open.

“Hey boys!” The roar of an engine had the four of your heads snapping back in the direction of Allison’s dad. “Told you I knew a few things about cars.” 

The four of you watched him strut his way back over to his own car, abandoning whatever his plan for Jackson had originally intended to be. You all saw him drive away with just as much intention as Stiles had stopped here when you found the rich kid. It was silent for a few seconds between you all as you and Stiles clambered out of the car to stand around outside the vehicle with the other two teenage boys. 

Jackson was the one to break the silence, rather aggressively you may add. “What, are you following me now?”

“Yes, you fucking idiot. You almost gave away everything right there,” Scott responded with a similar level of irritation in his tone. 

“What are you talking about?” He looked confused, his head tilting slightly. 

“He thinks you’re the second beta. He thinks you’re me!” In a burst of anger he hit his fist into the door of Stiles' jeep, the younger boy gasping slightly. “Dude my jeep.”

You just giggled, earning yourself another slight glare and a small push. When you gathered your footing again he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting your body lean slightly into him as you watched the two teens bicker.

“I can hear your heart beating from a mile away, literally! Now he thinks that there’s something wrong, and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn’t kill you too!” You truly believed the anger was unnecessary. The two were just yelling nonsense at each other at this point, and the other had no care for whatever came out of their mouth. Jackson’s mind was made up, and so was Scotts, neither willing to listen to anything but their thoughts; especially a certain Porsche driver, but that’s the way he’d always been. 

Scott once again stepped to hit the door of Stiles’ car in his blind fury, this time it being you who stepped in to move him away from that area. 

“Okay, okay. How about we just step away from Stiles’ jeep.” Your boyfriend sent you a grateful smile as you guided your friend forwards a little so he wasn’t within hitting distance of the car behind him. Stiles almost let out a verbal breath of relief at the gesture. Your attention was quickly drawn back to the two males who hadn’t been paying attention to anyone but each other, you and Stiles may as well not even be there, it’s not like they’d notice. Hell, Argent could come back and they probably wouldn’t notice. 

“You know what, this is your problem, not mine, okay? I didn’t say anything, which means you’re the one that’s gonna get me killed, okay?” Jackson said. Apparently your idea hadn’t worked, especially not when the next thing the boy did was shove your friend right into the passenger door, increasing Stiles’ frustration. “This is your fault.”

“Can we stop hitting my jeep?”

You saw the two go for each other, taking the initiative to step in and place a hand on either of their chests. Trying to be the reasonable one. If Scott went wolf mode on Jackson, he wouldn’t survive that kind of attack. Although you’d love to see him prove he couldn’t protect himself from even the babiest of werewolves. “Just stop, all right?” you insisted. 

“When they come after you, I won’t be able to protect you. I can’t protect anyone.” A chill ran up your spine when his eyes flickered over to you, your heart sinking in your chest slightly at what that was meant to imply. With a quick over to Stiles you confirmed that he was wondering too. “Why are you looking at us?”

You went unanswered as Scott turned his head back to face the boy in front of him, leaving you and Stiles to ponder what he meant silently. 

Jackson broke yet another silence with his spite this time. “You know what? Now you have to do it. Get me what I want and I will be fine protecting myself.” 

He was desperately trying to get him to see reason. “All it does is make things worse.” 

He scoffed. “Oh really? You can hear anything you want and run faster than humanly possible. Sounds like a real hardship, McCall.”

“Yeah, I might be able to run faster, but I can also hear stuff like my girlfriend telling people she doesn’t trust me anymore, right before breaking up with me.” You could see him getting slightly emotional, the breakup was still very much a sore spot for him, especially with the way he was being taunted by Jackson through it all too. So you decided to speak up in hopes of doing what your friend couldn’t.

“Jackson,” his head turned towards you. “He’s not lying. I’ve witnessed all of it, first hand, this hasn’t been easy for him.” Your friend nodded along. “It ruins your life,” Stiles added. 

He shook his head with a quiet chuckle, his eyes flickering to look Scott dead in the eye. “It ruined your life.”

With that statement he headed back to his car, climbing in his Porsche and taking off like Scott hadn’t just been trying to save his life, a muttered ‘asshole’ slipping out of your lips.

»»——⍟——««

Another date was what you and Stiles believed you deserved after being stuck basically babysitting the Whittemore kid for days on end. He’d told you to dress fancy, a difference from your usual dates but you didn’t mind, and then he’d surprised you by taking you to an exceptionally fancy restaurant for the only Stilinski child. 

It’d been bliss, the entire night. He’d made you laugh, he’d complimented you more than you could possibly even begin to count and god you were so in love with that boy. The last thing you wanted to do was finally tell your best friend about the two of you, now felt like a good time, and that’d really complete your night. 

“Hey, Sti,” you called. His attention had previously been focused on how much of his food he could fit in his mouth at once, so you found much amusement in watching him try to quickly swallow it all down so he could respond. You were patient with him, but you also found it quite funny so you were going to enjoy the sight as long as you could.

He nearly choked once or twice but eventually cleared his throat. Squeaking out a response. “Yeah?” 

“Do you think we should tell Scott? I know we were waiting for the perfect moment but, everything just seems to keep getting worse so maybe now’s a good time. And it’s been so long and I-'' He shushed you calmly, taking your hand in his and resting them on the table, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m sure he’d understand if we waited. But we can tell him whenever you’re ready.” 

You nodded, biting back a grin. The only thing holding you back from loving on Stiles every minute of the day was that Scott didn’t know, so if you told him it’d just make everything easier. 

“Stop by his house after dessert?” you suggested. He nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it gently. “Whatever you want, lover.”

You stuck to the plan, heading to the McCall house after you’d finished your desserts. You were positively stuffed and so full of love and joy in that very moment that you actually thought if Scott hated the idea of you being together as much as you feared he would that even that couldn’t dampen your mood. 

Stiles was the one to actually knock on the door, something about you claiming you were much too nervous to do it, like heart nearly beating out of your chest nervous. Which only increased tenfold when Scott opened the door to you both.

“Hey guys..” He eyed you both in your nice outfits suspiciously, his hand lingering on his front door as he waited for you to tell him something insane. He knew you’d both done something, because you wouldn’t have those ‘I can’t wait to tell you what I did’ looks on your faces if not. An expression of Stiles’ that he was actually incredibly familiar with. “What are you doing here?” 

“We have to tell you something,” Stiles announced. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh really?” His eyes trailed to the hand Stiles had slyly placed on your lower back, and he inhaled deeply as he realised this was probably going to be the moment you let the secret out. The same secret he’d known for weeks. 

You couldn’t contain it anymore, your smile wide as the words finally blurted from your mouth. “Me and Stiles are dating!” 

The boy beside you rolled his eyes, mentally cursing you for spoiling the secret when you were the one who insisted on breaking it to him easily. That certainly wasn’t easy, you’d basically just yelled the information in his face. He seemed rather unphased though, which slightly confused you both. Why was he not more shocked?

“I know.” Those were not the words you expected him to say, both your faces morphing into ones of similar confusion. “You know?” you simultaneously asked. It was actually kind of creepy if Scott said so. He nodded his head in confirmation, doing nothing to explain how he knew or how long he’d known. “For how long?”

He paused as he thought about it before a lightbulb went off in his head. “Remember that night at the animal clinic, when you went to get some air.”

Your jaw gaped, eyes widening slightly as you stared in disbelief. “That long, and you didn’t think to say anything?”

He shrugged, smiling at the two of you as he noticed how Stiles’ arm had wrapped around your waist and you were subconsciously leaning into his side. He would’ve noticed the little things like the small touches and looks even if he didn’t already know you were dating, and he would’ve pieced it together eventually. “I thought if you wanted me to know then you would’ve told me. I wanted you to tell me on your own terms.”

It was actually a rather sweet gesture, one that had your heart warming a little bit that he’d taken that extra care to let you get comfortable with it. 

“So you aren’t mad we kept it from you for so long?” you asked. That was the one question that had worried you the most when you thought about telling him. You didn’t want to- You couldn’t deal with him being angry at you on top of everything else the three of you were suddenly going through this year. He shook his head, pulling you into a quick hug to reassure you. “I’m happy for you both. And I’m not angry, but I’m glad you finally told me, cause now I can stop pretending I didn’t already know.”

After visiting Scott you headed home with Stiles, planning on staying the night with him to make the rest of your night just as sweet as the beginning had been. 

You entered the Stilinski household with a wider grin than Stiles had ever seen, the boy following in right behind you as the two of you headed towards the kitchen to put away the leftovers from the restaurant. Just for a moment everything felt impossibly perfect. You halted in your spot though when you found Noah sitting at the table adjacent to the kitchen, a bottle of some kind of alcohol beside him and multiple case files scattered in the space surrounding his exhausted figure.

“Hey Noah,” you greeted sweetly. He raised his head from his work, offering you a short wave and his son a small smile. “How was your date?” 

Stiles made an overexaggerated groaning noise. “The food was to die for.” 

“Not that you even tasted it with how quick you were eating,” you teased, poking at his stomach lightly to further your point. “Is that all you can remember from your night?” 

He grinned, momentarily forgetting his dad was there as he pulled you into his chest, intending on leaning in to kiss you before the Sheriff cleared his throat. The boy nodded, suddenly remembering where he was. “My date was lovely too, very beautiful girl.” 

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat that rushed to your cheeks as you dipped out of his arms so he wouldn’t sense your embarrassment.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun.” Stiles obviously knew his dad inside out, so just from the way he delivered that sentence he could tell there was something major bothering him, and he hated to see it. His dad deserved nothing but happiness, and it hurt his heart a little bit that he didn’t also feel that way.

“Why don’t you go up to my room? I’ll be there in a little bit.” You nodded, sensing it had something to do with him talking to Noah. You pecked his lips lightly before heading upstairs like he’d said, leaving him alone in the room with his father.

It was a good while before he came back, so you busied yourself with filing through some of his stuff while he was gone, after you’d changed into some comfier clothes that happened to be his. You shouldn’t have, but it was only little things like pictures or the little scribbles he’d made in various notebooks of his. 

You were focused on a certain picture of the two of you when you were around seven, that’d been pinned on his wall when he came barging into the room, finding you sitting at his desk chair. You turned to face him, a nostalgic smile on your lips as you turned it so he could see, not that he was focused on it at all. “D’you remember this day? Scott was on vacation and you were missing him, so your mom took us both to get-” “I’m a horrible person.”

You frowned, setting the picture down on his desk before shuffling over to him. He barely even took note of the fact you were wearing his clothes, a sight that would usually bring a lovesick smile to his face. He was too far gone in his thoughts to even notice. His hands were frantically running over the short hairs on his head, snapping out of his daze when he felt your gentle touch on his forearms. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly. He sighed, eyes welling up a little bit in a way that made your heart clench. “I-I asked if my dad needed help on the case, and he asked me to pour him an ounce of whiskey,” you nodded, eyebrows furrowing to ask if that was all. “I poured way too much because I thought it’d get him to talk about the Hale case with me, b-but he ended up just getting sad and talking about my mom.”

“Oh bub.” He obviously felt guilty about it, bringing a frown to your lips as you guided him into your arms. There was a barely there whimper emitting from his throat, but you heard it, holding him impossibly tighter as you tried to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

He wasn’t listening though, and it was getting fairly late, to the point where the best idea was probably to just head straight to bed rather than having a long winded discussion about how he shouldn’t feel guilty. Which would probably only end in him overthinking it anyway.

“Why don’t we just go to sleep? hm?” you whispered. “Then you don’t have to think about it.” He nodded, following you to his bed where the two of you crawled in together. The boy immediately clinged to you like a scared child, his arm slipping over your waist as the big spoon so he knew you were there in his arms. “Goodnight Stiles.” “G’night Y/N/N.” 

You weren’t bothered until mere moments after you’d finally fell asleep, pulling a groan from your lips as you buried your face deeper into Stiles’ pillow. He huffed, rolling over to blindly grab his phone to stop the horrible blaring noise. He must’ve accepted the call because you were soon listening to Stiles’ sleepily mumbling something to whoever was on the other end of the phone. But his words eventually became much clearer when something unbelievable was said by the other person. “Okay, okay, I’m on my way.”

You protested when he tried to leave the bed, shaking your head to tell him you really didn’t want him to leave you, not when you were so comfortable how you were. “I have to go meet Scott, he needs my help with something.” His hand gently ran over your hair, the motion only managing to lull you back to sleep. 

“Do I have to go?” you questioned. He confirmed that you didn’t and you took that as your sign to drift off back to sleep in what was Stiles’ ridiculously comfy bed. “I’ll come back later, you just get some more sleep.”

You hummed, happily accepting the kiss he planted on your head as he left to get dressed before he could go meet his friend. You didn’t know what kind of trouble they were planning on getting into, but you were too tired to care all that much. “Sleep tight, babe.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

[novelmonger]

Some highlights from the Director/Writer Commentary of The Return of the King with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh:

As they mentioned in TTT, they were originally going to put the Smeagol vs. Deagol fight as a flashback during the Dead Marshes. Before they decided to use it to open RotK, their placeholder idea for a scene to open RotK was to do a sped-up helicopter shot from the Paths of the Dead, across the plains of Edoras, to the Golden Hall where Aragorn wakes up from a nightmare (and then goes and talks to Eowyn). Very glad they went the direction they did!

In the final shot they used when Smeagol takes the Ring out of Deagol's hand, the actor playing Deagol actually blinked, but they liked Andy Serkis' performance so much, they had Weta go in and freeze Deagol's eyes so they could use the shot XD

You know, I forget sometimes that they didn't even have Saruman in the theatrical cut at all. Boggles the mind.

In the scene where Aragorn comes out of the Golden Hall and goes to stand next to Legolas, who's looking out at the night...Viggo and Orlando weren't in the country at the same time, so they shot them separately and then put them together @_@

You know, I never thought about this before, but when Gandalf touches Pippin's face, they had to make sure his hands looked extra big! So they used an actor called Big Paul, who had the biggest hands they could find, and Ian McKellen directed him for how to move his hands in the shot XD And Big Paul is the Rohan guard who gets shoved aside when Merry and Aragorn rush up to the top of the wall to watch Gandalf and Pippin leave!

THEY SHOT A SCENE OF LEGOLAS TALKING TO TREEBEARD ABOUT THE ELVES LEAVING MIDDLE-EARTH?!?!?!?!?!?! :O Originally, it was going to link the Isengard scenes to the scene of Arwen and the other Rivendell Elves going through the forest, but then because of all the Edoras stuff in between, the connection was lost. They also said something about Legolas reciting a poem! And joked again about putting it into the 25th anniversary edition. THAT TIME IS COMING UP, PETER JACKSON!!!! I WANNA SEE THIS SCENE!!!!!!

a;lkdsjs;kdfljds;fjl NOW THEY'RE JUST TEASING US. They talked about a "library scene" during the whole sequence where Arwen goes back to Rivendell and confronts Elrond about how he saw her son, etc. They wouldn't say what happened in the "library scene," but talked about how they should include that in the 25th anniversary edition too. a;ldkfjs;dkfljsd;kfljdslfk

The people on set who had a crush on Sean Bean were called "Beanstalkers"! XD That's the best; every fan to this day ought to call themselves that!

Similarly to the scene with Legolas and Aragorn, the little bit with Legolas and Gimli as everyone's getting ready to leave Edoras was filmed separately because Orlando and John weren't in the country at the same time. So they filmed Legolas' shots with Brett, John's scale double, then filmed John's shots later, filming both of them against greenscreen. Then they took some unused footage from the Edoras set and put it in the background. It just boggles my mind how many of these cobbled-together scenes there are, because it feels so much like all the characters are together in the real location!

RED ALERT RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!! They mentioned Beregond!!!! 8D When talking about why they put in the scene where Pippin and Faramir talk (when Faramir says the uniform Pippin's wearing was made for him when he was a child), in order to forge the connection between them that will ultimately lead to Pippin saving Faramir's life, they talked briefly about Beregond! They describe him taking Pippin under his wing, showing him about the city, and called the relationship between them "quite sweet" :3

Another little connection between Pippin and Faramir I don't think I've ever thought about before, that apparently Billy Boyd thought about when doing these scenes, is that Pippin is the only son of the Thain of the Shire, so there may have been a certain amount of pressure and expectation on him. Obviously, he's so young and probably didn't spend too much time worrying about that while scampering about the Shire, but maybe that's something he thinks about while watching the way Faramir and Denethor interact. Maybe a contrast to the way he would interact with his own father, maybe a reminder of the way he would be scolded? Hard to say, but it's interesting to think about.

Uuuuuuughghghg, so frustrating to listen to them talking about the scene on the steps where Frodo sends Sam away DX No matter how many times and how many different ways they explain why they did it, the explanations never quite make sense to me. "We needed there to be more tension." WHY WAS IT NOT TENSE ENOUGH THAT THEY WERE GOING INTO THE LAIR OF A HUGE EVIL SPIDER?! "There wasn't really anything happening on the steps otherwise." YEAH, BECAUSE YOU PUT THE WHOLE CONVERSATION ABOUT STORIES IN THE PREVIOUS MOVIE! Also, why not just cut from one or two shots of them climbing this awful staircase to a shot of them entering the cave? "There needed to be a payoff for Gollum's scheming." WHY WAS GOLLUM BETRAYING THEM TO SHELOB NOT ENOUGH OF A PAYOFF?! "We knew InStInCtIvElY that Frodo needed to enter the cave alone." WHY? WHY?! I've never understood that. They get separated eventually in the book, so why not just ramp up the tension of that in the movie, instead of making the characters so OOC? "We knew it would shock readers of the book, and if we'd changed that, what else might we have changed?" You know...I really, really love these movies, and I appreciate what these three were able to accomplish so much...but sometimes I kind of hate them too -_-

The horses didn't want to walk down the hill on the cobbled streets of Minas Tirith, because their steel shoes were so slippery on the stones. So they all had to be re-shod with rubber shoes. What were horseshoes made of back in ye olden days, though? Iron? Did people run into the same problems back then?

I never really noticed this before, but Aragorn never wears Anduril on his belt! He straps it to his horse, and every time you see him with it, he's just holding the naked blade. This is because they made Anduril so long it was really hard for him to wear it from his belt or to pull it out of the scabbard in a natural way XD

The aerial shot of all the Rohirrim leaving Dunharrow was originally shot to show Gandalf's cart heading into the Shire, but since they didn't use it for that, they repurposed it for RotK!

To get Elijah Wood to foam at the mouth when he's stung by Shelob, they gave him two Alka-Seltzer tablets to put in his mouth and work up some foam with his saliva. I've always wondered how they do that sort of thing in movies, but no one's bothered to explain until now....

Sean Astin's audition scene was holding Frodo after Shelob ;A; Apparently, they (or at least Philippa Boyens) were a little skeptical that an American actor would be able to do Sam's character right, but actually a lot of the English actors who auditioned for the role had a hard time with the Shelob aftermath scene, but Sean nailed it :')

Other than the close-ups, they used a dummy for Faramir on the pyre most of the time. Now I'm just imagining John Noble crouching on top of the pyre, cradling a dummy XD

The first Orc that Aragorn kills on Pelennor fields is played by his son Henry! XD

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME. They actually filmed Sam pushing past the sort of psychic barrier of the Watchers at the gate of Cirith Ungol, but they didn't put it into the extended edition! I love that part. Like...I'm not even sure why, but I've always thought that was such a cool little detail, and I've always been a bit bummed it wasn't in the movie, though I was thrilled to see the actual Watchers at least there as a sort of homage. And all along, they'd actually filmed something for that after all and I never knew! :O

You know, I never thought about it before, but it makes sense that they had to replace the sky digitally in a lot of scenes in Mordor, because of course when they filmed it, the sky wasn't always completely cloudy, but Mordor needs to have a complete cloud cover at all times.

When Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens first saw the footage of Sam carrying Frodo up Mt. Doom, they sent a fax (lolol 1999/2000 technology) to Sean and Elijah. They made the first page look all formal and official, and then on the second page it just said, "You made us cry." :')

Andy Serkis refused to have Gollum stand on two feet until the scene in the Crack of Doom. There were a few times that PJ directed him to lurch onto his feet or something, but Andy wouldn't do it. He wanted to show the difference in Gollum physically when he has the Ring again. What a cool detail!

Originally, the whole part where Frodo's hanging off the ledge and Sam is begging him to reach for him happens after the Ring is destroyed. It's really interesting to consider the slight nuances of how different that would be. The final version makes it almost seem like the Ring is still calling to Frodo, like he wants to fall into the lava and join it, whereas originally it was more like "I've lost the Ring and now I have nothing left to live for."

PJ made a sweet comment in the scene where everyone bows to the four hobbits: "This is a moment where there's always a huge sniffle in the audience when the movie's going, and it's usually me." XD

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! They shot scenes of what happens to the other characters when the hobbits return to the Shire! There is footage out there somewhere of what Legolas and Gimli do, what happens with Faramir and Eowyn!!!! ;aldkfjsd;fkldslfkjd 25th anniversary edition LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!