#until my last breaht

[screamsviakeyboard]

Getting Cyberpsychosis irl thinking about them

The fukcign hair effect, do you understand? He saw her out of the corner of his eye, and everything else in the world vanished. All the neon lights and people and holograms and noise and he found her. And then he lost everything he'd had to live for, but he found her and kept losing until he died for her.

"Well, David, what do you want?" he finally asks himself and the answer was to take her to the moon. He thinks she's not even talking to him and he does it anyways. That was the last job, okay?! *shaking you* she didn't have to do anything else after that but buy a ticket to the moon and he chose to die for her about it.

He's so fuckign stupid. My baby boy. He kept running on the edge. He really was Cyberpunk Edgerunners. I'm criyng. What a terrible title drop.

SO, GET AWAY ANOTHER WAY TO FEEL WHAT YOU DIDN'T WANT YOURSELF TO KNOW AND LET YOURSELF GO YOU KNOW YOU DIDN'T LOSE YOUR SELF-CONTROL LET'S START AT THE RAINBOW

*deep breaht*

'CAUSE I REALLY WANNA STAY AT YOUR HOUSE

[gwen-ever]

Until My Last Breath (Chapter 1)

Summary: When Smaug arrived, he not only killed the dwarves of Erebor, but he also destroyed the lives of the few who survived... whether he did it on purpose or not.After a hundred years, a part of Thorin's past will come back to haunt him in the form of a dwarf who last knocks on the door of Bilbo Baggins' house, resurrecting old grudges and the pain of a life no one wants to talk about. Geira, daughter of Geiri, is anything but an open book, an exiled who no one wants around, a warrior who has no one to fight for, but only an oath she must fulfil.

Relationships: Thorin x FemaleOC

Rating: M

Warnings: angst,sad,

AO3 LINK: HERE

Notes: I would like to thank all of you, who commented the prologue, rebblogged it and liked it. It was a very heartwelming and I hope i wont let you down with this first chapter. In particular i need to thank@lathalea for always checking my chapters and make surei dotn mess up and, trust me, this week she really put a lot of effort to do so hahahahahha.The style its quite different from the one I will use in the rest of the story, it is just a general introduction but i really hope you cvould guess some things <3 <3 <3

Mashkil: Dirt

'Angûna: Filth

"What is she doing here?!" roared Thorin Oakenshield, an accusing finger pointing at the newcomer, who in the meantime had placed her wooden bow in a corner and removed her heavy black travelling cloak, worn out by numerous weather conditions.

She felt the king's gaze burn like fire, but tried avoiding glancing at him, even when he took one step towards her like an animal ready to attack. She shifted her gaze upwards, focusing instead on the tall figure of the sorcerer who was smiling at her with the side of his mouth.

"My dear, let me introduce you to the master of the house, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf announced in a quiet voice, ignoring, as she did, the dwarf lord's question.

With small steps Gandalf stepped to the side, indicating a small hobbit in the middle of the hallway with his hand.

The hobbit bowed his head slightly to the side to get a better look at her. He probably didn't like being surrounded by all those intruders, and now that another one had been added, he was in complete panic. She could understand him, as she could imagine him being unaware of everything that was going on around him.

For a moment she felt genuine compassion for him, yet it was not as if she had entered in the best of moods and maintaining that facade of indifference was beginning to be difficult for her.

Keeping her composure she smiled at him slightly, making a small bow with her head as brought a hand to her chest grasping the flap of her red tunic.

"Geira, daughter of Geiri, at your service," she introduced herself.

"Traitor to her folk!" Dwalin added contemptuously, shouting at the top of his lungs.

She tries to ignore the dwarf words smoking with the side of her mouth to the Hobbit infront of her. But then another voice spoke, a voice which she could never forget either in a thousand years.

"What are you doing here, you dirty mashkil?!" Thorin growled loud, his voice echoing between the whole of the whole house.

Her intention to remain calm was shattered like a crystal glass thrown to the ground. A shiver ran down her spine and a sigh escaped her mouth. She slowly lowered her hand from her chest and the armour of indifference she had built up wavered at the mere sound of the dwarf speaking to her.

Geira looked up, finally returning Thorin's gaze. His blue eyes stared at her as cold as a winter night in a blizzard, and what she felt was... nothing.

She felt nothing, or so she told herself.

"You have not been asked for introductions, King Under the Mountain," she spit, as angry as ever.

As soon as she finished those words several elderly dwarves around the table burst into exclamations and in the blink of an eye some of them stood up and she recognised them, every single one who stood up..

She knew who they were and they knew who she was.

One dwarf in particular kicked the stool he was sitting on and slammed his two iron fists into the wooden table, making it creak under his force.

"You filthy traitor, say that again!" roared Dwalin, looking her straight in the face. “Try to say it again!”

Geira didn't have time to dwell on how much she could recognise him even after all those years, for her gaze was caught by the muscles in his arms that seemed to flare with anger, and the scars on his forearms seemed to come alive with a life of their own. So many years had passed, yet she felt no nostalgia, only a great emptiness, that was all she had to feel. Yet she had to pull herself out of that situation, for the sake of what she had promised herself.

"Sit down, Dwalin..." she murmured, brushing her fingertips over the pommel of her sword strapped to her side.

"Don't you dare tell me what I must do, you 'angûna, just breathing your air disgusts me. You should die just for daring to show your face here!"

"This is not dwarven territory..." she explained, gritting her teeth.

"As long as I'm under this roof, everything around me is dwarven territory!"

At this point, however, she could not control a grimace. "Ironic how you're watching and paying attention to my presence instead of thinking about how to take back your territory." she spit glaring up at him.

The dwarf roared, moving away from the table in one swift motion. "One order from you Thorin, and I will make her bitterly regret it! Bloody traitor!" he yelled out of himself.

Geira shifted her gaze to the dwarf king still standing, looking him straight in the eye as she waited for a silent response to the demands of the warrior dwarf beside her: and she got it.

The frown in the middle of his forehead deepened, but his eyes remained as cold, as icy, and as terrible as the ones he had looked at her with one last time so long ago.

A dominance in his gaze, an anger, a hatred that had brought her to her knees back then. A look that had drained her of all light inside, like the words that had followed shortly afterwards, the last words he had ever spoken to her.

But this one she was not begging him at his feet. If he wanted to take her life away once again this time, Thorin would have to do it by looking her straight in the eyes and fighting as equals.

Thorin had opened his mouth to give an order as she sharted to count her breath and moving her hand closer to her hip, but they both were preceded by the most unlikely voice of all, which unexpectedly defended her.

"Excuse me, but I don't think that's any way to talk to a lady." All eyes shifted to the side of the hallway, to Bilbo, some admiring, some confused, some threatening, even her owns, which grew wide eyed at such words. The hobbit stammered under that attention and linked his feet, "though, I mean... that's what you say it is.... that it is," he concluded, glancing at Thorin, "at least, not in my house. No sir!" he adjusted the braces of his trousers, more out of the discomfort he felt than anything else.

Geira let go of the hilt of her sword at her side, surprised at how the little hobbit had spoken to Thorin, perhaps because she didn't know who he was, but that small gesture of courage intrigued her, as something hadn't intrigued her in a long time. She noticed an amused look from Gandalf at the hobbit as he continued to rock back on his heels, probably expecting for Dwalin and Thorin to sit back down in their seats, but they did not.

Instead a clatter of crockery and a couple of chuckles rose from the door next the living room, intruding on the vast silence that had spread across the room, breaking the layer of ice that was growing thicker between all of them.

"Uh. uh someone has angered Master Dwalin, hold this pint brother, be very careful."

"I am careful, you're the one standing on my foot Kili!"

"Then move it, no? We're missing all the fun because of you!"

The entire room quickly turned towards the source of the noise, all but one dwarf, Thorin, who didn't take his eyes off the dwarf maid figure for a moment, and like the others, kept his attention towards the side door of the dining room.

Before Geira had a chance to wonder what was going on next door to the small dining room where the dwarves were sitting, two young dwarves appeared, two pints each in hand. One with hair as golden as molten gold, the other with brown hair, frizzy and terribly familiar.

Geira held his breath for a few seconds.

"Oh shut up Fili, you're always in the way, if you'd move over maybe I'd see why they stopped shouting too," the younger dwarf mocked his brother, raising his pints in the air to go sit in his seat.

"Surely uncle has finished," replied the other making the same movements as the brunette, "or the other burg...lady... has arrived...".

The blond-haired boy could not complete the sentence as soon as his blue eyes rested on Geira.

His mouth opened wide, causing the two beads on his moustache to sway to the side of his mouth.

The hazel-haired dwarf tilted his head to the side as he looked at his confused brother, slowly sitting back in his seat. "What is a burg...lady?"

Finally, his gaze landed on her as well, but unlike that of the dwarf still standing beside her, his open mouth soon turned into a warm smile.

"SO YOU ARE THE OTHER NEW MEMBER! WELCOME!" he yelled, opening his arms in the air, raising the two pints he still held in his hand.

Geira said nothing, remaining impassive, feeling the other brother's eyes still on her.

"WELL WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? TAKE A SIT! I ALSO HAVE ANOTHER PINT, IF YOU WANT IT !" The other dwarf invited her with a dramatic gesture of the goblet, but she did not move an inch.

“Kili…” Thorin murmured to the brown haired young dwarf, glancing at him.

“Why were you yelling like that then? And why are you still up, we were about to tell Mr Beggins how-”

“Kili,” the older of the two brothers, froze suddenly, casting a glance towards Geira's side calling his brother to attention.

Geira noticed him and casually covered the visible seal on the pommel of the sword with one hand and knew from the glittering brown eyes of the younger dwarf that he understood.

His big brown eyes widened, as did the blonde-haired dwarf's mouth. "You are a..." the dark-haired dwarf murmured as his mouth curled up in a small smile.

"Fili, Kili, be quiet!" Thorin stopped them, but the two young brothers continued undaunted, not realising that they were only making things worse.

"Oh, come on uncle, it's wonderful! It'll be all..."

Uncle.

"I said silence!" roared Thorin, slamming his fist on the table.

At the dwarf lord's growl the two brothers were astonished, opening their mouths wide but remaining as he had ordered in silence, however, casting pointed glances towards the opposite side of the room. They knew immediately that something was wrong.

Geira's hand slipped away from her pommel and she did not let them see what had caused her to hear those last words as the two young dwarves did as their uncle told them, sitting down in silence, but not stopping to look at her.

Geira looked up at Dwalin, who glanced at Thorin, who most likely replied with another glance, because he nodded in return. However, he did not fail to look at her one last time with a look full of fury.

The dwarven king narrowed his eyes slightly before he turned his attention to the sorcerer once more in complete silence.

"I want her to leave," he said emotionlessly.

"I am afraid it can't be possible," replied Gandalf calmly, as he returned to his seat.

"I won't let her stay here. I won't let her stand around my company, and put them in danger by only her presence," he growled low, talking as if she wasn't there listening. "I don't trust her! And I don't trust anything she says!" Thorin retorted seriously, not once looking at her face.

Geira clenched a fist, trying to keep her composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

How dare he speak of trust? Him of all people, when it was he himself who had betrayed hers. How dared he!

She gritted her teeth as a blind fury clouded her vision.

Gandalf remained silent for a few moments, observing the king of all dwarves before replying.

"You will have to, I did what I thought was right and calling her back from exile is the right choice," he explained.

"The right choice?" resumed Thorin, his blue eyes twinkling menacingly "And how, shall we hear?"

Gandalf gestured with his hand towards Geira, inviting her to speak with a movement of his head; thirteen heads turned towards her, and even Thorin laid, finally, his eyes on her face.

For a moment his gaze alone made her flinch, making her eat back words she had not yet spoken. And yet, she had to say them. For herself, for her father, for her one hundred and seventy years of exile and for all the pain she had to go through because of that damn dwarf who was staring at her. She swallowed up her anger and her vision slowly became clear again.

"I am here, to fulfil my oath," she explained, looking the dwarf king straight in the eye.

A thin chill spread through the room, seeping into the bones of the newcomers; Bilbo, however, watched the scene in curiosity, struggling to understand. Perhaps now he would receive the answers he had been waiting for since the beginning of that exhausting evening.

A dull clatter echoed through the room, the sound of a cup slamming against the wooden table.

"This is too much!" roared Dwalin as he pulled himself up onto his seat again. "One word from you, Thorin, and I will rip her head off her shoulders, as I should have done years ago!"

Thorin didn't answer; he stood up, continuing to look her straight in the eyes as if what she had just said was none of his business at all.

"Your oath?" he asked her calmly, too calmly. With a couple of strides he approached her, his fists clenched and his jaw contracted. "Your oath is worthless now. It was broken long ago. Your words, your oath are nothing more than a pile of cold ash," he began growling low.

She almost dug her nails into the skin of her hand.

"It is a lifetime oath, you were there when I had sworn it," she addressed him as calmly as he had.

Thorin's jaw clenched a second time and his breathing became irregular.

"And I was there when you broke it," he uttered a low growl. "I saw you break it, you did it before my eyes..." he added contemptuously.

A pang of pain cut through her chest as everything that had happened that day appeared in her head. She seemed to see his gaze again, to feel the tears running down her face, to feel her heart being torn from her chest. She seemed to see her world burning before her eyes, her life burning before her eyes, and then... the exile.

The exile to which he had condemned her.

"I don't want to keep my oath for you if that's what you're worried about, King Under the Mountain," she spit staring directly into his eyes.

"I don't care why you want to keep it, I don't need you to keep it!" Thorin shouted at her, roaring out of his mind. "Your words mean nothing to me, a'lâju Mahal!”

A scraping of a chair followed the dwarf lord's words. "Thorin..." whispered Balin, but Thorin was as unstoppable as a blazing fire.

"You have no place among us, you have no honour, you have no name, you have no clan, you are nothing!

Your oaths were broken when you turned your back on us! Your blood is as tainted as your father's!"

For Geira that was the final straw. He shouldn't even dare to mention his father, shouldn't even try, king or not! Oath or no oath, he had no right.

Her hand tightened on the pommel of her sword. This time she approached him, with a couple of strides. She looked down at him as words began to pour out of her mouth like a flood.

"Then let Dwalin cut off my head now, this instant, for I assure you, Thorin son of Thrain, that I would rather be buried underground than fulfil the words I spoke to your kin years ago!" she retorted mercilessly. "If I could, I would retreat them one by one!"

"Be quiet, traitor!" he yelled at her, slamming his fist on the wall next to him.

"ENOUGH!" the darkness fell over those present before Geira could reply; they all fell silent at the power unleashed by Gandalf, who now stood menacingly over them, glowering. He glared down at them, a gesture that made them feel almost smaller than usual. Almost. For, as certain as the sun rising in the east, dwarves were not so easily frightened, not even if the subject in question was a wizard.

"You dwarves and your stubbornness! You will bring us to ruin before we even begin our journey! Geira will come with us. If I say her presence is essential, then it is essential! Her reasons do not matter to me as they should not matter to any of you!"

"It does matter," Thorin's deep voice rose from the silence that had enveloped his companions. "You cannot ask us to trust her, Gandalf. What she has done is..." the dwarves' attention shifted from her to Gandalf again.

"I know of it, but I ask you for the sake of this quest to leave old grudges aside; otherwise, we will not get very far if you continue to quarrel. When we reach the Lonely Mountain..."

Gandalf froze for a moment averting his gaze to her for a moment and then back to Thorin again. "Geira will accompany us there and then help us to reclaim it and th-"

"Then I will leave, if that is what you wish for Thorin Oakenshield," she concluded, giving a glance to his hand still on the wall next to her.

Thorin raised an eyebrow and slowly began to back away a few steps returning to his seat. "It is what I wish for as of now, for you to leave us, and that will not change," he stated, casting a glance at her hair, so short that it showed her neck, and her shoulders and part of her hear. The same length she had when he saw her for the last time.

"I don't want it to change..." she answered back as after a long time she felt ashamed again of those short locks.

The cut he gave to her.

And that was what they were for, to make her disgusted with herself, and in the absurdity it had been her choice to cut them so much that she had scratched her scalp the first time she had done it. She had cut every single lock and braid, counting them one by one as well as the short sideburns on the side of her face, shaving as short as she could the side of her head, leaving her right side a bit longer than nothing.

And with a last disgusted glance of Thorins on her head the discussion stopped.

Geira bit her tongue, lowering her gaze, and after that long wait, accepted a chair that the Hobbit gently offered her with a smile on his face all the while the chatter that had taken place before her arrival resumed.

But the grave atmosphere continued to permeate the walls of the room.

Nor did the tense mood change when everyone's attention turned to the Hobbit.

Geira wondered if his stammering was from the bewilderment of the various news stories, or his actual way of speaking: probably the first option. She saw him frown, countless wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tried to figure out what kind of trouble they were getting him into. She felt tremendously close to him at that moment: she would have gladly walked through the round door to get away from there, but she had promised Gandalf that she would stay. She had promised herself and her father; no more running, no more hiding. It was time to show everyone that she was not what they said she was, she had never been.

She paid no particular attention to the various explanations Gandalf and Thorin gave Bilbo, but it was when they handed him the long contract that her attention was caught again. She saw the hobbit intent on reading it, concern palpably making its way into his thoughts and gestures.

"Incineration?" he asked incredulously, unfolding the parchment better; perhaps he was convinced he had read it wrong. "...I'm going to faint.... " he said, his voice uncertain and trembling.

"Think of a furnace with wings: a flash of light, searing pain, and poof! You are nothing more than a pile of ash!" began Bofur, looking out of the doorway where she sat.

Bilbo lost all colour in his face, turning pale, too pale. It sounded like an alert to Geira; she held her breath until the other fainted, falling to the green carpet like a sack of potatoes.

Had his courage in speaking to Thorin been a flash of courage, then?

It was only then that they all sprang to their feet and tried to reach him, but in doing so they created an immense confusion, whereupon Gandalf ordered them all to go outside for some air. Dwalin and Nori helped him to lift Bilbo up and bring him to his senses, while Geira, again on Gandalf's advice, fumbled around in the kitchen to make him a cup of tea, trying to do as little damage as possible. She risked, for example, to spill the water from a nice blue and yellow cup, plus splash the boiling water from the teapot all over the place. Cooking in a real kitchen, that was something she hadn't done in a long time, as well as tinkering with this kind of fine crockery. She adjusted her black armguards and with a sharp movement of her hand and rolled up her sleeves a bit. She completed the laborious mission, delivering the drink to the owner of this house who, in the meantime, had woken up and was sitting in the living room in a comfortable armchair.

As soon as he heard her coming, he followed her every gesture with watchful eyes, until she broke the silence, handing him the cup full of aromatic tea.

"Your gaze has not ceased to follow me since I crossed your threshold, Bilbo Baggins; I have a feeling you have many questions for me," she told him, trying to force a smile and be as friendly as she could be.

It was all so difficult.

"Well, I... " he was stunned, not knowing how to continue, perhaps embarrassed at being caught in the act. He watched her in silence as she found a place by the lit fireplace, resting her back against the side of it. "Well, you... you're like them, aren't you?"

"A dwarf?" she asked him in turn, hinting at a smile at such innocence.

He nodded his head, passing the hot cup through his hands. "But, well, I had heard that dwarf women... they had..." The hobbit froze suddenly and fell silent, passing his gaze quickly to her face just above.

A sigh escaped her and she decided to tell him a half-truth.

"I cut them off a long time ago..." she explained hastily, but without ever trying to offend him in any way. She took a breath, trying to find an excuse in her head that would satisfy his curiosity. "A sign of... mourning..." she murmured.

It was not the whole truth.

Bilbo looked at her carefully, trying to see in those black eyes all the suffering they concealed; and suddenly his mind asked so many questions that it became involved: how long had it been since he had felt so interested in someone? He had kept to himself as much as possible, letting those four walls envelop him like a warm, soft blanket, in a slight torpor that had been shattered by the arrival of the dwarves. And Geira's.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he could not keep his mouth shut, not even putting the cup to his lips and sipping the hot tea.

"M-may I ask you another question?" he asked her, watching her eyes gradually lose themselves in the flames of the fireplace. "Is it true what they told you earlier? Those names they refer to you... are they true?"

"Are you afraid I will stab you in your sleep?" she answered him piquantly, raising an eyebrow.

Bilbo cursed himself, cursed him and his curiosity Tuc.

"N-no... no..." He was about to apologise when the girl shrugged, evasive.

"I'm exiled, it's true, but a traitor... that... no... no, never…” she looked again into the fire, which was crackling quietly before them. "I am here for one purpose only, and to keep a promise I made, long ago, far too long ago..." she murmured, turning back to him: curious but respectful grey eyes in deep, haunted black ones.

"You all have a purpose, a mission in this whole thing... I...I am just a hobbit, I am not what you all think I am..."

Geira watched as the hobbit's fingers held the cup and his gaze suddenly clouded over.

These were good questions he was asking himself, yet Gandalf believed in him, and the dwarves in the other room believed him more than they did with her, one of their own kind.

For a few moments he reminded her of a young dwarf lady in a large luxurious room in a distant mountain years and years ago wondering what she wanted to be in life.

Slowly she approached him, kneeling beside his green armchair and resting her hands on the armrest.

"I think you will only find out if you come with us; there is more to you than meets the eye, Bilbo. I saw it before, and... even if you don't see them, they're there, they're always there," she told him gently, marvelling at her own words.

Why was she talking to him like that, in that tone, as if she knew him? As if another person, as if he was interested in her opinion, perhaps because she hadn't spoken to someone like that in months. Still, it wasn't enough of a justification, but Geira found herself continuing.

"The journey will be fraught with danger, from outside and within the Company. That will take courage, but also a deep fear of the unknown to do what we must do. Because what we will find on the other side of the known world could be anything… or nothing. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to come with us.”

"Danger… within... the Company?"

Geira was about to answer, but their eye contact was interrupted by the arrival of the wizard, who had come to make sure of his friend's health.

"Excuse me," the dwarf-woman took her leave of the two, leaving them alone to talk; she fastened her cloak, but as soon as she placed her hand on the door knob, Bilbo's voice reached her.

"Thank you, miss Geira," he said.

“You can call me Geira” she answered, turning her head to the small hobbit sittin on the armchair.

H just nodded, looking at her with big eyes before shifting his attention to the cup in his hands

She turned, seeing a tense but grateful smile on his lips; she half-smiled as well, opening the door and stepping out into the light night breeze.

She had to calm her nerves, she had to calm down in order to regain her self-control and her coolness, which had been severely tested by the events of the evening: from an inside pocket of her cloak she took out her long white wooden pipe; from another, she took out her pipe-weed. Shortly afterwards she was blissfully smoking, sitting on the bench just outside the door; the long puffs produced small clouds that dispersed in the air: she followed them with her eyes until they disappeared, while her mind was lost in the meanders of her twisted thoughts. Did Bilbo feel out of place? And she, what was she to say? Of course, she had known from the beginning, from the moment Gandalf had introduced himself to her in that village of Men, that this would be anything but a walk in the wood: too many prejudices hovered among the dwarves, including herself, too many things left unsaid.

She felt like a flower in the frost, or perhaps she was the frost.

She shook her head, sucking in another breath that made her think better: she was there for a good reason, she had explained it to Bilbo; she just had to concentrate on that and that was it. It mattered little if they ignored her, if they did not speak to her along the leagues they had to travel, or if they were suspicious and indifferent. She would let them, their gazes should slide over her like water over her skin, she should just... just end those years.

What the wizard had told her had been gnawing at her for weeks. The likelihood of a hope, that if she fulfilled her oath perhaps, if she didn't die in the process, she would restore her name and she could... return home. But the real question was, did she want to go home and why was she still holding on to a broken oath?

"Are we interrupting?"

A young voice shook her from her outcast thoughts, finding one, or rather two young dwarves beside her... They were the two who had tried to convince Thorin to include her in the group - Fili and Kili, if she remembered correctly, the ones who had figured out what she was, who she was... Thorin's nephews. Two princes.

She took the pipe from her mouth and a mixture of emotions stirred in her chest, a desire to drive them out mixed with the urge to ask them to stay.

They were waiting for an answer to the question, she realised only after she found two pairs of puzzled eyes, waiting.

"Depends on what you want," she replied cautiously.

She didn't like the answer much, but the two stood there, undaunted. The black-haired dwarf with a youngster’s stubble sat down beside her, not waiting for an invitation; although he sensed Geira's suspicious glances, he did not pay heed to them. He took out his pipe and, after lighting it, squatted down more on the bench, puffing out small clouds of smoke.

"We just wanted to share some tobacco with you, nothing else," he insisted, sketching a brief smile.

"But maybe I don't want to share," Geira replied stubbornly.

The boy widened his eyes and looked at her almost displeased. Geira scolded herself, perhaps that wasn't the right way to go: they were her companions now, and she should at least try not to pick a fight with them. Yet it was proving so complicated, and the second boy's blue eyes didn't make it easy for him at all.

The nephews... the sons of…

"You should, if you don't want to isolate yourself before we leave..." the blond-haired, bearded dwarf attacked her: even in the moonlight she could see his blue eyes shining; so familiar it hurt.

Her fingers gently touched the inlaid hilt of her long sword, with which she never parted, seeking some form of strength, courage or, why not, peace of mind.

She forced himself not to let the acidity of his words show, "I thought I was already an outcast before I left, Master Dwarf. And forgive me, but I still don't know your names, which doesn't seem fair since you know mine."

The one sitting next to her laughed, throwing back his head, "You are right, forgive us, but the circumstances before did not allow us. I am Kili, this is my brother Fili, we are the sons of Vili and princess Dìs,"

Sons of Dìs.

A bite in her stomach made her pipe clench in her hand and suddenly her chest became incredibly heavy. The sons of Dís, Princess Dís.

How many years had passed? Had it really been that long? Had time around her really begun to move so slowly that she did not know how many years she had lived that life?

They were kids, but they were older than she had been when everything changed.

“Very well, then, Fili and Kili…” she murmured under her breath.

Geira remained silent and tried to calm her heartbeat after the latest information she had received. She sucked in another puff of smoke realising that there was, in fact, no more tobacco; she cursed silently and wiped it off, then put it back in her pocket. She wrapped herself a little more in her cloak as a gust of air penetrated her heavy clothes, fit for travel.

"Not very talkative, are you? Yet with the hobbit you spoke, I heard you!" asked Kili, sitting too close.

"You are talkative for both of us, young prince," she said, his eyes widening for a moment and then narrowing to slits, unexpectedly suspicious.

Geira caught herself explaining before the situation escalated. "You called Thorin ‘uncle’ earlier; I do not possess magical powers, if that is what you fear,"

"I didn't think so. But I am surprised that you called me young: yet, you do not seem as old as Balin, or Dori or Master Oìn..."

This time it was Geira's turn to smile. She barely lifted a corner of her lips, but it was enough for Kili: if only he had known.

"Looks can be deceiving: to me, you are certainly quite young, just boys."

"Then how many..."

His brother Fili interrupted him forcefully, "The sword, where did you t-"

"Lads, please return; the hobbit has made up his mind," Balin interrupted Fili's question, and allowed Geira to avoid answering uncomfortable questions to say the least.

The old dwarf gave her a brief but penetrating glance, but he did not bother to ascertain whether she was following him or not, so Geira opted to stay out there a little longer, alone; she left the door to Bag End half open and, from the confusion that followed, deduced that Bilbo had denied her help. Part of her felt terribly sorry and sad: she had accepted the fact that she would be leaving in the company of dwarves who hated her, but the torture seemed less heavy, knowing that a face less hostile than others would be at her side. She sighed loudly, trying to catch screams, reproaches or furious, stubborn phrases, but her ears met with the silence that reigned in the house; curious, she got up and, without making the slightest noise, looked out of the door to peek inside. She recognised Thorin's broad back covered by a fur cloak, his long, neatly wavy hair falling past his shoulders; he was leaning against the fireplace in the hall, where she had been standing before while everyone else was standing around him.

A melody sung with his mouth closed emerged from the silence; then his voice, deep and warm, filled the room, spreading through the air like perfume.

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day

To find our long-forgotten gold.

Geira held her breath, melody from the very first notes, but.. the words, they were different from what she remembered. She frowned but then stop to worry and started to listen as Thorin's voice passed through her ears and went straight into her heart. She felt a strong grip on her chest, as if some invisible hand had tightened around her heart; those words tasted of something long forgotten, of longing for something lost. They tasted of home, of family. Her mind played the terrible trick of making her see again the places she had walked in Erebor as a child: squares, streets and alleys, palaces full of gold, stables, armouries... and then dwarves walking, working, children running and screaming. All this had died with the city, swallowed up by the terror of the dragon, and she had not had the chance to see it one last time. Soon, Thorin was not the only one singing; the others joined him, singing the last verse that reminded them of the same feelings.

The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night,

The fire was red, it flaming spread,

The trees like torches blazed with light.

The song ended, but the sadness lingered on. Geira drew back quickly, returning to the embrace of darkness, her long-time friend; far from prying eyes, she wiped away the tears that had mockingly escaped her lashes, forming a small furrow on her rosy cheeks. She blinked several times to squeeze out more tears and breathed deeply, trying at the same time to calm down and listen to the king's instructions for the next morning's departure.

"Try to get as much rest as possible; Gandalf will show us to our quarters..."

There followed a great commotion, a sign that everyone was gathering their knick-knacks: as she did not want to show himself in such a pitiful state, she decided to wait outside; perhaps, with the favour of darkness, no one would notice the signs of crying.

As expected, the others came out, dark in face; they glanced at her in passing, then disappeared down a path towards a small inn. As soon as the last of them, Ori, was out of sight, she went into the house, looking for her bow, which she found where she had left it, leaning against the wall of the small kitchen. She took a quick glance around, noticing the cleanliness and order that once again reigned supreme, as if nothing had happened. It was indeed a fine home, fit for someone who loved his life and would not change it for all the gold in the world.

She secured her bow to her back, picked up her quiver, and hoisted it over her shoulder. She reached the hall with great, heavy strides, but froze when her eyes fell upon the long contract written by Thorin and countersigned by Balin on the footstool in front of the chair. With a knot in her throat, she saw that the place for Bilbo's signature was spotless, empty. She sighed again, brushing it with her fingers.

She felt guilty: it was she who had warned him of what lay ahead, who had told him that she would not blame him if he refused, and that she, too, might leave the Company to its fate; so when he had thanked her, had she already decided in her heart not to take part? She ran a hand through her short hair, touching every lock from her forehead to the back of her neck.

"He will come, do not fear," her left hand ran quickly to the scabbard, drawing the sword she carried at her side; it was only when she was in a defensive position that she recognised Gandalf, who had entered without her hearing him. He walked towards her, his hands clasped behind his back and the usual sardonic smile always on his lips; he watched her for long moments, with those blue eyes that could dig into you, until they read your soul. And Geira, in her heart, was afraid of it.

"That contract will be signed very soon," he insisted, now closer to her.

"'Are you so convinced? The young hobbit wasn't convinced, I've seen that kind of look too many times, from young soldiers, recruits, and even head guards," almost without realizing it, she found himself again brushing against that yellowed paper, and those handwritten characters of those who had once been part of her world.

"Oh, I hope so! But, usually, my convictions always turn out to be correct!"

"Like me coming here?" she said directly as she looked up at him.

Gandalf took a deep breath, tilting his head down slightly to keep it from slamming into the ceiling. "That is the uncertainty that, though you will not believe me, has plagued me these many weeks," he explained quietly. "I will not hide from you that I thought you were not coming.”

"I didn't want to," Geira admitted. "I waited in Aldburg for as long as I could," she concluded, smoothing out the traveling bag on her shoulder with a movement of her shoulder.

The wizard nodded his head before speaking. "I see. What made you change your mind?"

At that unexpected question Geira stiffened all of a sudden. She had spent weeks in the room of the inn in the small village in the kingdom of Rohan, mulling over the offer the wizard had made to her, and up until a fortnight ago she had been more than sure that she would not participate in the expedition. Why should she, why should she accept what Gandalf had told her outside that inn as true. He knew nothing of what was to come, and yet the prospect he held out to her was too much even for a hardened soul like hers.

He could revoke the exile, you could go back home, fulfil your oath and be free, Geira. Isn't it what you want? Being free again?

"Because I don't want to die like this, in the dirt of a Men’s village with an invisible chain wrapped around my chest ... I don’t want to be bound to him anymore, I want his nephews to see their home,they are the new hope for Durin’s folk" she explained hastily, speaking like a dirge she had learned by heart.

"And not him?”

She looked up to Gandalf . “Would you ask this to a victim of an executioner? Or to a leftover wife of a soldier?”

“It depends on how much the victim cared for the executioner, and vice versa,” he explained with a soft voice.

For Geira it was like receiving a punch in the middle of her sternum; she felt a sudden urge to shout out her frustration, her anger, to give vent to the rage she had kept jealousy inside her all evening. He knew, Gandalf knew, yet he dared to say that to her, if it was to achieve a goal of his as he had already seen him do, it would not work this time, not with her.That was the point of no return for her; controlling her tears was almost impossible, as was not taking the sword from the hilt and pointing it at the wizard, even though she knew what would happen.

Furious, she began to tremble, looking the wizard straight in the face and finally and, after months, asked him the question that was eating her alive.

“Why did you want me to come?!” she growled “You have warriors, you have clever dwarves and useful ones. Why did you come to me, and do not tell me you did it for me!” she nearly roared.

As he had done for the rest of the evening, Gandalf remained silent for a few seconds, watching her. He did not get angry or upset, but he looked at her in such a way that everything around her seemed to grow cold and sad and for a moment she felt the same way.

“Because you have to fulfill your oath,” he told her again.

“I did not intend to fulfill it! That oath was broken long ago as was the one that he swore to me! Stop lying to me! ” she insisted, pleading with him with her eyes.

He owed that to her, an answer a simple answer, she was not asking more. She just wanted to know why Gandalf wanted her to torture heself, why he wanted her so bad in that Company why he cared that much that forced Thorin to accept her as a member of his Company.

He sighed softly, smiling sadly with the side of his mouth “I didn't, I did it for the executioner, for the warrior, for the king...”

Geira parted her lips, astonished but quivering with anger; unexpectedly she smiled, a sad smile, without a hint of joy painted on her face. “You know Gandalf, now I understand why you lied to me, because if these are the real reasons, you know I'm sure I would have turned down your invitation back then.

And without saying anything more she turned and walked out of the rounded green door.

She left the hobbit’s house behind her, following the same path the others had taken, passing other green mounds - hobbit dwellings - and finally resting at the inn where the whole company was already staying, but still awake. And she would know that that night, like many others, she would not find rest, because a question had begun to arise, a question about a story she had been telling herself for too many years: was she really only doing this for herself? Yes was the answer, because if it were otherwise she would rather die by his hand than go through it all again. To feel again. To be betrayed again.

The flames burned up to the sky. The fumes came out of every window from every balcony from every hole in which they found a passage. The screams rose high in the air and thundered in the valley below her. The yellow and blue fabrics danced a dance of death and destruction as they walked out the shattered marble door. Children clung to their parents' necks in fear. The women and men wept as they watched the bodies scattered on the door under the rubble as they were pulled away by those few who had not yet been gripped by grief.

The once green pines and grass on either side of the mountain had become a heap of ash and coal.

Her tears would not stop flowing, her armor had become heavy as a boulder that prevented her from moving.

Then a desperate scream under the hill where she was about her came to her ears making her almost fall to her knees under the weight of her helplessness and guilt.

His formerly desperate blue eyes turned to pure amazement as they landed on her.

One scream, one last scream before the realization of what would happen as she watched her heart burn in the rubble with her oaths and with the one dwarf who possessed it.

"I told you coming here would be a waste of time!"

"To hire a hobbit, where did you get such an idea?!"

"I did not think such a small body could possess so much..."

"Stubbornness, Oìn?"

"Well, why would he help us if he doesn't even know us?" noted Bofur, returning to light his pipe with a tinderbox and sitting down better on the window sill.

"Gandalf promised us the hobbit would accompany us; and if he said so, we must trust him."

"How about a bet, then? Come on, Nori! What do you say?"

There began a long chatting that involved them all, those who bet for or against Bilbo's arrival by the next morning. The commotion that permeated the small room of the inn, where they were to sleep, allowed two dwarves to move into the corridor, away from prying eyes and ears.

"What do you think, laddie?" asked the older dwarf, smoothing his long white beard.

The other sighed wearily, the ever-present wrinkle in the middle of his forehead more than worth a thousand words; even after he had removed his heavy cloak and remained in his long blue tunic covering his breeches, his figure was imposing and commanded awe and respect.

No matter how hard Balin tried, he still found it hard to believe that this dwarf, a child, who later became a young boy, would become king so soon, faced two major battles that had taken everything from him and with which he had to deal every day, every night; the old dwarf knew this for sure: not even in his dreams was Thorin Oakenshield free, safe from rancour and remorse.

"I think this mission has started under the worst of auspices: I wonder..." he paused, not quite sure what to say next.

"Whether we should proceed?"

The king nodded, but his gaze was far from convinced, lost in thoughts unknown to most, but intuitable to Balin; or, at least, most of the time. But, to be on the safe side, he decided to broach the subject calmly, one step at a time.

"Don't distress yourself about the hobbit: if you hadn't beckoned to me and brought me here, I would have placed a bet in his favour, you know?" he gave a half-smile, but that did not relax his companion’s tense features, quite the contrary. He made a contemptuous sound, halfway between sceptical and desperate.

"Dwalin was right: it was a waste of time coming here. It was folly to believe in his help; but even without him, we must proceed. No, it's not his presence I'm worried about... no... not him."

Here was the raw nerve, the sore point: just as Balin had imagined; it was not the thought of the failed burglar that plagued him.

"Thorin..." he began, laying a hand on his forearm. But as soon as he did, the muscles under his shirt twitched and the old dwarf was stopped with a raised hand and a grim look.

Seeing him in that state did not help Balin either, after all: after all, he was like a son to him. And fathers were always distressed when their children were not calm and happy.

"No, Balin. I don't want to talk about it," was his curt reply; and no matter how much the elder dwarf insisted, he would not be heard. His king's pride was mightier than reason, which struggled to prevail: for if he had even tried to think, Thorin would have understood; but stubbornness and anger blinded him.

Balin sighed loudly and shook his head, but he hoped in his heart that this journey would bring other victories than the lost pride of the dwarves.

Dawn came too soon, and continuous yawns surprised Geira as she rinsed her face with cold water and then strapped the sword to her side, but first she pulled it from its sheath, examining the blade for new scratches. Daylight broke over it, sending blinding glints down the walls: her hand stroked the inlaid and worked hilt, which gave the sword its name, more closely. Forged by her, for her alone, and branded on the hilt by... him.

That sword was her past, her present, her future perhaps. All she still possessed was that sword, all that bound her to what she had been was that sword that had allowed the two princes to know who she was and what she had been. She had managed to avoid their questions but she was sure, having seen the two princes, that they would ask Balin, Dwalin... Thorin for confirmation. And what would they answer? Was her oath really broken and she was just fighting the wind? No. She was to the death and would fulfil it, or die rather than live like this any longer. Without being able to speak a word to any dwarf.

She put the sword back where it belonged, and stopped losing herself in useless thoughts; she took a quick, final look around the room, tracing the outline of the simple wooden bed, the chest against the wall, and the windowsill, on which was a vase of fragrant lilac and yellow flowers: perfect, she had forgotten nothing. She arranged her traveling back better on her shoulder and closed the door, going downstairs; he thanked the innkeeper with a nod and a coin, then went out into the warm morning air. Outside, a riot of colours and scents invaded her, leaving her stunned: everything was so wonderfully green, and as the evening before she wondered what life could be like there.

"Good morning!" Kili's smiling face took her mind off her pesnier again, just like the night before in every way.

He stood in front of her, crunching a stick of beef jerky between his teeth, soon joined by his brother Fili, who had two in his mouth. "Come, we'll show you your pony," he said.

"My Pony?" she asked, incredulous.

With a gesture of his head, Fili invited her to follow them, or rather to follow her younger brother, who had already started walking with his arms behind his head. They took her to the back of the inn, where three animals stood in a large enclosure. Kili opened the wooden gate and pointed out the pony, a female with an entirely white coat, tame and quiet: Geira approached her, stroking her gently; she neighed, appreciating the gesture and making her new mistress smile. From the bag she took out a red apple and handed it to her, watching her devour it voraciously: yes, she liked it, she admitted; and it would be a good companion for the journey.

"Thanks, lads" she said with a smile turning towards the two brothers.

The dwarves bowed their heads in response, finishing lacing up the last of their bags of supplies, then dragged their steeds out of there, where the others were waiting for them; Geira followed, not receiving any greetings from the other members, just a deep silence, making her clearly remember what the others thought of her. Even the smile on her lips vanished in the blink of an eye.

Without a word, she hoisted herself up onto the saddle, settling in better. When they were all still and ready, Thorin cast his gaze over them all, including Gandalf, as if seeking some support, some security... or fear.

He made no speech, there was no need: they all knew what they were getting into, what the risks and dangers were, but they were ready; they were going to regain their homeland, there was nothing nobler than that,

their hearts were for their home. They were for Erebor: and they would hardly be discouraged or lose the purpose of their journey

The king turned his pony, leading it along the streets of Hobbiton, followed by the others.

Geira did not look back, but kept her gaze fixed ahead, her heart a little heavy and a little relieved, she could not quite explain why. She remained silent as they left the city and entered the large clearing lined with huge old trees, thinking with regret of the sort of friendly figure who might have cheered her journey and comforted her when all seemed lost. Who knows, perhaps Gandalf tended to overestimate himself a little too much, if he believed that his convictions always turned out to be right and positive …

"Wait!"

"Wait!"

"Wait!"

A familiar voice brought her to a halt, and so did the others; she turned swiftly in the saddle, hardly able to believe her eyes: Bilbo Baggins had just stopped beside Balin's pony, exhausted from his long ride; he caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow as he held out the contract to the elderly dwarf with one hand, claiming to have signed it. As soon as Balin verified the authenticity of the signature - a gesture that Geira found amusing anyway - he announced that he was welcome to Thorin Oakenshield's company; applause and whistles of welcome followed, interrupted by the king.

"Give him a pony!"

Bilbo tried to object, as he had never ridden a pony before, but Kili and Fili cleverly hoisted him up; Geira managed to catch the hobbit's eyes and, to his great surprise, he was stunned: she smiled at him, a warm and sincere smile.

And then the hobbit knew he had made the right choice.

[futurewriter2000]

Fighting Battles - pt. 7 - final part

XX

It wasn’t easy being without Wren. You knew that since the moment the two of you met. After the whole parade of catching him using, resuscitating him and holding him in your arms with barely enough air in his lungs, he asked you to leave him alone. You were against it but at the same time you thought that some distance would do both of you good.

So you stayed in James’ dorm for a while. It wasn’t easy telling him the whole story but you did and as furious as he was, he promised he will let you solve your own problems for once. 

But after a week being without your other half, Dylan came to the Gryffindor tower with his eyes on the floor, stuck with guilt. He knocked on the door and you looked up from your cards. “Dylan?” you wondered. “What are you doing here?”

He looked up, barely. “Hey, (y/n).” he then looked at the other two boys with cards, glaring at him. “Lads.” he nodded at them but they didn’t budge. “Can we talk?” he asked and you looked up at your brother, getting the usual warning look and later at his best friend who didn’t have any different thoughts. 

“I’ll be right back.” you told them, put your cards down and got off bed. “And don’t look at my cards.” you walked out the dorm with Dylan. 

As the two of you were alone, walking down to the common room and sitting on the sofa, he fimbled his fingers just like he always did and began. “I wanted to apologise about last time.” he finally looked up and you could see every single part of him was screaming sorry at you. “I took- we both took this new drug called Flakka and it’s amazingly calm for a first few moments but as you came burning it all away, it came out as an agressive, angry behaviour from me- AND KNOW, I would never want to hurt you or do anything remotely related to what I did but somehow I just couldn’t control what came out and I am truly, sincerely sorry for that.” 

You listened with your ears lifted and focused on him, hearing every word that came from his mouth. You smiled warmly at him and pulled him into a hug. “You were pretty mean, I have to admit but I went through worse than that. Hell, I was in yours shoes once and for the first time I found out what James had to go through when I gave him outbursts like you and Wren gave me.” you paused, still holding him tight. “And I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, you gentle soul.” you pulled away and he laughed. 

“Gentle soul?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Dylan, everybody knows you are a teddy bear deep inside so don’t try to deny it.” you put your hand on his cheek and let it slide down to his shoulder. “Yet I didn’t know that teddy bear would be dumb enough to do drugs.”

“I just needed a boost. There just wasn’t enugh hours in the day and I remember Wren telling me that crystal meth helps you stay awake.”

“It does.” you conifermed.

“I know.” he simpered. “It was just the euphoric moment and the whole time I was on it that made me keep on going when I didn’t even need it anymore. Wren caught me using one time and I was too high to know where my head was and I somehow convinced him to do it with me. I was the one that you should blame, (y/n)-”

“I’m not blaming you, Dylan.” you sighed. “And I don’t blame Wren either. It’s tempting seeing other people on the euphoria when you are doing with all your strenght to resist it.” 

“Yeah, well after the whole Wren O.D-ing, I got my shit together and after a week of- the worst week in my entire life to be clear.” he pointed out. “I decided to get some help.” 

“You did?” 

“Don’t be so shocked.”

“I just never imagined you asking for help. Remember first year-”

“Yeah, yeah. Mock me all you want.” he laughed with you.

“No, no. I’m happy you decided to get help on such a serious matter. It means your brain isn’t fried yet.”

“I am a smart, wise man.” he boasted and you laughed. “Also did you know their password is Banana Fritters?” he smiled. “Honestly, Gryffindors are the odder than Hufflepuffs.” 

“Now, now. You’re talking about my brother.” you joked and he laughed. 

“Yeah, well talking about my brother.” he got more serious and you knew exactly who he talked about. “He really wants to see you.”

---

You approached the dorm and you could hear the loud music blasting from it. At some point you could see him already, even behind closed door. 

It was like summer, like every day with him; he was in his purple socks, underwear and black Rolling Stones T-shirt. He was facing you his back, jumping, sliding, strutting, leaping and whirling as his bed was filled with clothes. 

You leaned on the wall and just watched him, jumping around the room in his underwear. He had his eyes shut, singing loudly to the music and playing air-guitar. Until he spun in his purple socks and opened his eyes. 

He stopped, froze and kept his wide eyes on you. You smirked, still leaning on the wall. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

“I-uhm-” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah-” he lowered the volume but you only rolled your eyes, walked up to him, put your hand over his and turned the volume back up. 

The strong rock of the guitar started blasting over the room and you started walking sassily down the room. “ Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone!” you started singing, unzipping your jacket meanwhile he smile and continued.

“Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?!” he sung on the top of his lungs and you laughed. He took your hand and started spining you around, both playing on your air guitar and singing to the song until the chorus came on and the two of you sung your lungs out.

“ Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough. “ 

And before you could do the next verse he put his hand over you mouth and sung the best part of the song by himself. 

“ I'm hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!” he posed and did his best Michael Jackson move, causing you to laugh. 

“That’s not fair!” you laughed and he shrugged. 

“Life isn’t fair, honey.” he  bragged and jumped around the room, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up to twirl you in the air, later throwing himself and you on the bed.

Both laughed and kept laying on your backs. After you calmed down, he sat up and started fumbling his fingers, just like Dylan did before. “(y/n)-” 

“Wren, you don’t-”

“Yeah, I kinda do.” he cut you off, looking at you with his fern eyes and simpering. “I can’t believe that I did what I did to you.” he later looked back at his fumbling fingers. “You.” he repeated. 

“I’m fine, Wren but you.” you sat up as well. “You almost died- hell you did for a moment.”

“I know- I just- I don’t know. It all happened so fast and you trusted me and I kept lying to you because I was terrified that if I start, you’ll start as well.” 

“Yeah... it was tempting when I opened that drawer but I looked at you and Dylan and I just knew that’s not what I want anymore. And Wren, you’ve been here for me when nobody else was-” you took a hold of his hand. “-that’s why I am never mad or furious whatever you do. Because I just can’t. Not at you at least.” you squezed and he grinned.

“Does that mean I can do whatever I want and you won’t be mad at this pretty face.” he joked and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t push it.” you laughed. “And no.” 

“Yeah, well I think that I need to stop doing whatever I want.” he contiued and turned his whole body to you. “I wrote to my parents.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I never tried to get along with them at the first place. I think it’s time I try.” he smiled and you threw yourself in his arms.

“I’m so happy for you.” 

“Yeah.” he hugged you back tightly and smiled in your neck. “Mom wrote me back and told me she’d love to see me. Guess I’ll have to win over dad.” he chuckled. 

“I love your dad.” you pulled away and he furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What?”

“He brought me food once when he came to visit.” 

He laughed and shrugged. “Yeah, he’s not that bad like I made him out to be. I honestly can’t wait to taste his food again. He’s a real chef at heart.”

“So, food? That’s your whole reason.”

“No.” he denied but kept smiling. “It’s 90% of the reason. The other 10% is his amazing personality.”

“And us?” you blurted out and his eyes locked with yours again.

“Us?” 

“Yeah, us.”

“I mean there’s not really an us if you’re in love with another guy, is there?” he tried to keep the smile on his face but it kept fading. “I had my chance a long time ago and I knew it. I knew it all along I just didn’t feel the same until I saw you with him.” 

“You knew?” 

“The moment you started looking at me with the same eyes you now look at him. I was just too late, wasn’t I?” he nudged you. “Though, do you think he’s into guys?” 

“Um, excuse me?” you looked at him. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.” 

He shrugged. “Have you seen him? I would fucking dare. I would.” he kept a serious face and then burst out laughing. “I’m messing with you.” he nudged you again but you only squinted your eyes at him.

“He’d never choose you over all of this.” you flipped your hair over your shoulder and he let out a scoff. 

“No. No he never would.” he said calmly, putting his hand on your cheek and smiling kindly. He pulled you into a hug and breahted in your perfume. “I’m going write you a letter every day this summer.”

“And I’ll reply to each and one of them.” you promised.

---

It was the last day for the seventh years and before they could go to the boats and finally graduate, you wanted to see them. Knocking on the door, you opened and found your brother suffer with his tie meanwhile Remus kept teasing him from the foot of his bed.

“Underneath and over, James.” he kept smiling.

“I AM!” he snapped, putting his tie over and over again, always ending with a knot. “THIS is so USELESS!” he made a shoe tie on his neck and you laughed.

“Come here.” you walked to him and started untying his knot. “You’re being useless, Remus.” you looked over to the guy chuckling on his bed. 

“I couldn’t resist.” he continued meanwhile you finished with it. You put your and on his chest and iron the robe on his shoulder. 

Finally looking up, you smiled at your big brother and a big, broad smile appeared on his lips and he lifted his arms in the air.“I fuckng made it!!” you wrapped your arms around him and breathed in his sweet cologne.

“I am so proud of you, big brother.” you smiled as well and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you, sis.” he smiled and pulled away, kissing your forehead. 

“Wait. How did you tie your tie all seven years?” Remus asked, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing between the two of you.

James grinned at him and both of you exchanged a similar look. He never tied his tie because it was already tied. He just put it over his head and went to class. That0s who James just was. 

“It’s a mystery.” you winked and walked to Remus. “You finally did it.” you smiled proudly at Remus and he pulled you in a hug.

“I did.” he beamed, letting out a joyus laugh. “I finally got rid of these blokes.” he joked and you laughed.

“You would think that.” James squinted his eyes at him. “But you won’t ever get rid of us. Ever.” he reassured and Remus sighed.

“It was good to dream for a moment.”

“Mates, I lost Peter!” Sirius barged in and started looking around. When his eyes landed on you, he grinned and leaned on the wall. “Look who made an appereance.” 

“What do you mean you lost Peter?” James looked confusedly.

“He was there and suddenly he wasn’t.” 

“So? He’ll find his way back here or to the boats.” Remus walked to throw his books in the trunks.

“I might have told him, the graduating ceremony is in the Forbiden Forest.” Sirius scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Of course you did.” Remus sighed meanwhile James smiled.

“And he bought it?” 

“This isn’t funny you guys.” Remus said but a smile was surfacing. “Just look at the map.” 

And as James and Remus were looking at the map, you were stuck with a view of your favorite Marauder. You walked slowly to him, swaying your feet over the red and gold rug meanwhile he smiled and watched you with those dangerous eyes.

“Came to tie James’ tie?” he smiled and you laughed.

“Yeah.” you nodded.

“Came to tie mine?” he grinned and bit his lower lip as you were close to his chest. 

You look down at his perfectly tied tie and smiled. “Unfortunately, it’s already tied.” 

He was close. You were close. The tension was growing, the temperature rising. “I think it’s too loose.” he put his hands on your hips and just as his touch burnt yours like coal, this time wasn’t any different. 

You put your hand on the tie but your fingers didn’t function. They felt numb and numbness didn’t come daily. It came when he was close and when you were close. It came when your heart pumped on adrenalin and your mind was focused on nothing other but him. It came when you were afraid to take your chance. So you took the tie, pulled it down and crashed your mouth on his. Your numb fingers relaxed and dug into his hair meanwhile his hands pressed you closer against his own body, lifting you on your toes. 

James watched with his mouth agape meanwhile Remus behind him was snickering. “Wish I got this congratulation.” 

“I’m gonna tackle him.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m tackling him, mate. That’s my sister.”

“And that’s your brother.” Remus pulled him back, James looked at him with softer eyes and smiling.

“I’m still tackling him.” 

“JAMES!” 

[storytimefromthecreed]

A Happy Ending with Shaun and Clay

    When Rebecca had told him that both Desmond and Clay were able to safely leave the Animus, Shaun felt like he wasn’t hearing her correctly. Not that he couldn’t understand the words she was saying, but that she sounded far away and his ears were filled with cotton balls. Rebecca waited for him to react, to do something, so Shaun did what he was good at. As if automatically, he walked back to his work station and went back to work.

    Rebecca watched him a while longer before leaving him alone. It was only then that his feelings leaked through his eyes, and Shaun began to cry. After all this time, Clay could come home. This wasn’t a thought Shaun even entertained anymore. So, what to do now?

    Shaun stayed behind his computer screen for the remainder of the day. The screen was blank, left on his last work. Truthfully, he was pretending to keep his mind busy when really it was running havoc. After all that time in that machine, Clay couldn’t be the same man he was before. How had time altered him? Would he still be the person who believed in the Assassins? Or would be have no opinion on the war? Was rocky road still his favorite flavor of ice cream? Did he still hate rom-coms, but love soap operas? Shaun’s lip was raw from chewing, a habit he thought he’d long overcome. It seemed a lot from the past was resurfacing. 

    Rebecca leaned against the doorframe, her eyes were on the front door oppisite to them but Shaun knew she was watching him. Trying to read him. Searching for a reaction. A negative one, and she would step between them and end the meeting. A positive one, and she was pretend, as she was doing now, that she wasn’t there. 

    Time to be an Assassin, Shaun told himself. Time to be brave. He closed his screen, his back aching from hunching, and he strode over to stand with her. “They’re going to keep us waiting, aren’t they?” Shaun scoffed, his tone uninterested and annoyed.

    Rebecca’s body was tense, coiled for attack, rendering her relaxed pose against the doorframe useless. “They’ve been in there for a while, Shaun, we can wait a few more minutes.” No, they couldn’t. Shaun thought this, but kept his mouth shut in a tight line. His teeth has chewed his lips to a painful point, so now he just used them to clamp his mouth shut. His eyes strained at the door, waiting for it to move.

    When it did, almost an hour later, William and Desmond entered first. William held Desmond securely, gently leading him inside. Desmond was shakey and weak when he sat down on the sofa, but he lolled his head to the side and gave them a warm smile. “Are you guys going to say hi, or what? I was in a coma, you know? I probably missed a lot.” William walked out the door.

    Rebecca headed over to him and gave him a quick hug. Shaun knew she wanted nothing more than to hug him and ensure he was really there, really safe, but he was frail even to him; so Rebecca did a manual inspection whilst jabbing him. “All that time in a coma didn’t do anything for your humor, you’re still not funny. How about you save that energy for getting better?”

    “If I get better, then what will you guys do?” Desmond looked around Rebecca, finding Shaun. “What? Not even a coma will get you to acknowledge me?”

    Shaun knew he was teasing, but it must have looked bad the way he was leaning half way out the room and standing in the shadows, frowning with his arms crossed. “You keep playing that coma card, and Rebecca here will have to send you into another one.” Shaun took one shakey step after another into the room until he was at the sofa. Once there, he rested his hand on the back of it, having found that he was weak in the knees. “Besides, we barely noticed your absence, and I got to use my Assassin training to carry the team through such a hard time.”

    “Shaun!” Rebecca hissed, but Desmond was gasping. Or was that laughter?

    “The team is still standing, so I think you did a great job.” Desmond smiled, weaker now from his fit of hysterics. “Seriously Shaun. Thanks. Needed a good laugh.”

    Shaun nodded curtly, back to eyeing the door when William arrived. Tucked under his arm, was Clay. His cheek bones jut out more, almost appearing to break pale skin as he smiled, and his under eyes were dark and sullen. But his eyes, god! His eyes were lively and bright. Even though he looked different on the outside, Shaun knew he would recall those eyes anywhere. Even after all this time, just looking at him made Shaun’s heart blossom. 

    Rebecca hugged Desmond again, placing herself between Shaun and Clay once more. Clay scanned the room, smiling at the lights, admiring the furniture, grinning at Desmond and Rebecca, until his eyes fell on him. The intensity of the gaze caused Shaun to drop his eyes, and stare at the floor. His chest consticted and tears began to well in his eyes. Shaun wished he was anyway other than where he was right now.

    Was there tension in the room? Or was Shaun imagining it? He was too scared to check. Too scared to acknowledge it. As if doing so would make it real. Make Clay real. Had he not wanted this very event? Hadn’t he cried himself to sleep countless nights for the chance to see Clay again? This was it. This was their chance. And yet, Shaun wouldn’t muster the courage to look his love in the eye.

    A weak rasping at the other side of the room made Shaun look up. No longer noticing the eyes of Desmond, William, and Rebecca; Shaun saw Clay, really saw him. His hair was ruffled and dirty, he was thinner, more boney, than when he went into the Animus, but he had that smirk on his mouth. Clay shook his head, his smirk growing into a grin as he did his own inspection of Shaun.

    “What?” Shaun’s voice was shakey. Clay hobbled over to him, William assisting him. Shaun moved past Rebecca. “Stop, let me. You’ll hurt youself.” He took William’s place and propped Clay up. A spark of electricity jolted him when they touched. Did Clay feel it too? Clay leaned against him, his eyes never leaving Shaun’s. 

    “I’m fine, I just need to rest is all. Then I’ll be back to being an Assassin in no time.” Shaun moved Clay over to the chair besides Desmond, and gently lowered him down.

    “Uh, no, you’re not.” Shaun commented sternly. “Resting is your job right now, we’ll discuss the rest later.”

    “Under one condition.”

    “What?”

    “You’re the one taking care of me.”

    Later that night, in their now joined room, Shaun stared out the window while Clay laid on the bed. Neither one of them had spoken much after dinner. Rebecca went with William to aide Desmond, and Shaun had taken Clay to his room. Afterall, that was what he was supposed to do, right?

    Clay just watched him work all night. He ate a dinner of broth and bread, and quietly watched Shaun work until he feel asleep, which was not like him at all. Or was it? Did Shaun really know him anymore? Was this a Clay to be known?

    “Stop thinking about it so much.” Clay’s voice broke the silence of the night. No louder than a whisper, Shaun figured he was probably sleep talking, a habit his Clay had. “You really do have to think about everything, don’t you? God, why can’t you just be happy this happened.” This time, Shaun knew Clay was speaking to him.

    “You’re supposed to be sleeping.” 

    Clay shrugged. “Nightmares.” Though his tone was teasing, Shaun could see the fear in his eyes. Clay was thoroughly frightened. His experience in the Animus was not like anything Desmond went through, and having not gone into the machine himself, Shaun couldn’t emphasize. “What are you thinking about?”

    Shaun couldn’t help the smile this question brought him. On nights when he couldn’t sleep, Clay would pick his brain. This little hint of the past made him relax, and Shaun turned to face Clay. 

    “I’m thinking about how much has changed since we’ve last seen each other.”

    “Right to the point, Shaun? That’s not very like you.”

    “A lot of things that are like me, might not be what I was like before.” Shaun closed his eyes and sighed. When he was nervous, he had a tendency of using too many words. Trying again, Shaun took a deep breahte and said, “Clay, I might not be the same Shaun you remember all those years ago.”

    Clay paused, and then rolled over to his side, watching Shaun. “Just as I might not be the same Clay you remember.”

    “That’s not-”

    “Oh, I know what you meant, Shaun, and I get it. A lot has happened since we were last together. I took on that mission even after you told me you didn’t trust it, and look what happened. Guess I should’ve listened. But by some miracule, I’m back. I know this might not mean anything, but,” Clay chewed on his bottom lip, a habit he had picked up from Shaun. “When I was in the Animus and it felt like my brain was being thrown all over the world, I was always able to bring myself back together when I thought of you. Just anything. How you are terrible at making coffee and that’s why you drink tea. How you sleep with socks on because you’re a weirdo. How you’ve always been the only other person to be more clever and witty than I am. I missed that the most, our banter. I would replay sceniors in my mind about when we tried moving in together but couldn’t decide on the place, or of our first days being Assassins together.” Clay’s voice had gotten thick and he cleared his throat with a cough. “Guess all I’m saying is, I know a lot of time has passed and you may have fallen out of love with me, but I want you to know that that’s ok. I didn’t want you to wait around for me. My feelings for you have never changed, and I just thought you should know that.”

    Shaun was stunned. Clay finished his speech and shifted uncomfortably under Shaun’s gaze. “You know what? We’re tried. I’m sorry. We can talk about this another time.”

    “You think I don’t love you?” 

    Clay didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at Shaun with tear filled eyes, nodding once. “Shauny, it really is ok. I know it’s been a long time, and I’m a hard person to love-”

    “Clay, you’ve always been a jar head, but tell me you’re not serious.” Shaun moved from the window to the side of the bed. He gently took Clay’s hand and held it securely. “I’ve thought about you every night before I fell asleep. Every mission I went on, I thought, ‘How would Clay handle this? How brave would he be?’ Clay, I’ve never stopped loving you. When I saw you again, I didn’t know how to react. Having thought I could never see the love of my life again to having him in the same room as me gave me whiplash.” Shaun chuckled weakly. Tears brimmed his eyes now, and the tears he had held back streamed down his cheeks and down his chin. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

    Clay weakly propped himself up, tears running down his face in a similar fashion. “I love you too.” Clay kissed his forehead, and Shaun kicked off his shoes and got into bed. With Clay resting his head on Shaun’s chest, they talked all night until they lulled into sleep.

[twinfanfics]

Taiyama week - promp switched partners

This promp is really funny. I made a single parent AU!!

An honest mistake

Pair: Taiyama

Resume: Yamato went to his son at the kindergarten to discovered that his son was switched, after the first panick reaction he discover that the father that take care of his son is pretty handsome. 

Five minutes after the kindergarten closed Yamato entered for the door.

“Joe, I’m so sorry, this semester my music class end at the four o´clock. Thank you so much for let me pick up Gus after the time” Said Yamato quiclky.

“There is no problem, Matt; Gus is such a nice kid, he has been sleep for a while” Joe answered as finished to organized the papers of the kindergarten.

Over the couch on the receiver was a little baby boy with a full dog costume who covers him from toe to hair.

Yamato stared a couple of seconds.

“Joe”

“Yeah?”

“He isn’t Gus”

“What!?”

Joe bended over the little boy and saw a big red hair and a goofy smile.

“OH MY GOD, ADAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHY ARE YOU WEARING GUS PAJAMAS?”

“Joe, where is my son?” Said Yamato as the panik started to raise over “You couldn´t lose my son, I swear to god!!”

“Calm down” Joe said as Yamato hold him by the shirt “I can fix it!”

The nervious man get out his cellphone with clumsiness as Yamato yelled at him.

“How you couldn’t tell!! OH GOD JOE YOU ARE IS GODFATHER!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU…”

On the other end of the line someone answered.

“Yes, Mr. Kido what is happening?”

“Oh. Mr Yagami, I’m afraid that your sister took the wrong kid”

“The wrong kid? What are you talking about?”

“Yes, Adam is still on the kindergarten”

“WHAT?!”

“I can’t apopogized enought”

“TODAY IS HIS BIRTHDAY”

“Mr. Yagami, please, I’m afraid that you get Ishida’s son”

Joe could hear him screams at the other side.

“HE IS YOUR NEPHEW KARI, HOW IS POSIBLE THAT YOU GET CONFUSED, I’M GOING TO BREAK YOUR PHONE, YOUKIDNAPEDACHILD!!!”

Yamato snatched the phone from Joe’s hands.

“Hello? This is Yamato Ishida, where is my son?”

“Mr. Ishida, I’m so sorry. Your son is fine, he is here with me,  we are at enter of the park of the city. How is Adam?”

“He is sleeping on my son’s pajamas”

“Oh this is a mess, but listen…”

“Put him on the phone”

“What?”

“Put.My.Son.On.The.Phone”

.

.

“Gus, how are you honey” said Yamato with the sweetest voice while the little toodler babbling on the phone “Don’t worry, okey? your father is going”

“Look, I’m sorry all of this” Taichi said  on the phone again.

“You said you are at the enter of the City Park?”

“Yes, just on the ice cream station”

“I’m on my way”

Yamato pick up the little Adam and get out the kindergarten while glancing at Joe with an reprehensible look.

   Taichi breaht deeply and look at his new friend. Gus was wearing the favorite pijama of Adam, a full dinasour costume. The little blonde boy has no more than two years old.

“Hey buddy, your papa is on his way, you had to apologyzed my sister, but at least you are getting ice cream”

Gus laughted a little while took the cookies of the ice cream and eaten slowly.

“Don´t you like the ice cream? This is Adam’s favorite”

“Aaadam” pronunced Gus shyly.

“Do you know my son?”

“Friend” Said the little boy while parted the cookie by the half and extended to Taichi.

“You are really nice Gus, but my ice cream is going to arrive soon”

Gus didn’t answered back and stayed eating his cookie with little bites as he wanted the cookie to last forever.

 “Gus!” Yamato yell ignoring Taichi and hugging his son “My little boy how are you? Are you fine? Didn’t you get scared? What are you eating?”

Yamato was carrying both children and before he can estopped Adam, he get a bite at Gus cookie.

“Adam! How are you little buddy?” exclaimed Taichi aparting his baby from Yamato’s hands.

As the inevitable, Adam cried out when he get separated of the cookie. Gus, at get confused, cried too.

 A few minutes passed until the childred get on peace. Some how Adam had two cups of ice cream and Gus had all the cookies.

Taichi released a sight. His son was safe and sound, eating his favorite ice cream at his birthday.

And he has an incredible handsome blonde guy looking at him madly across the table.

“Don’t you like ice cream Mrs Ishida?”

“You kidnapped my son”

“Okey, it was an honest mistake that wasn’t mine but for my little sister, who hadn´t seen Adam that much. If something, we can blame the kindergarten”

“Joe do much more work that the one that he can handle”

“Mr Kido sounded stressed”

“Is his natural state”

“It’s my Birthday!” Exclaim Adam loudly.

“Yes, is your birthday, son, we are going to past all the afternoon on the park, just you and me little buddy” Said Taichi while cleaning the little boy’s face that is cover by ice cream.

But Adam reacted by hugging Gus.

“My friend is coming too”

“It doesn’t depend of me, Adam; but if Mr. Ishida wants it would be a good way to make it good for them, don’t you think? I guess we escared them a little”

“I didn’t scare” Adam said with determination.

“What do you said Gus, did you get scary?”

Gus cover his face with the dinasour costume and hug Adam a little more, hidding of Taichi’s look.

“It’s fine Gus, we can go home if you wanted” Yamato said.

“friend” answered gus pointing at Adam. And them he cover his face again.

Taichi look at Yamato confused.

“I know you are probably bussy, but if you want to come with us, it would be fine, the kids look happy together, and I can invited you some cotton candy and sandwinchs at the park”

“We are already eating ice cream”

“Yeah, but is Adam birthday, and he is always hungry”

Taichi feel the judgamental look of Mr. Ishida over him.

“He has fast metabolist, its normal, I know it, I watch a nutriologist”

“Fine, I guess we can had a little play date”  

The two kids ran over the park, taking turns to play on the slide.

Mr. Ishida and Mr. Yagami get sitting on a bank to watch the children while tray to disolved the akwarness around them.

“So, no birthday party” Yamato said.

“Oh, no, no. When I asked what he want for his birthday he said that he want to pasted all the day with me, so I take one half free day from the office. Maybe it doesn’t look like the big thing but…”

“It’s sweet” Yamato interrupted. And Taichi get a little lost on the sweet blue eyes.

“Thanks. Wherever, his grandmother is going to trhow a party the Saturday, Gus could come if you want. I let some invitations at the kindergarten but there were a incident when Adam bite his classmates or something like that”

“Oh it was Adam, Joe comented me something about that”

“Yes, my little son has problems with his personal space. I’m glad that he had a friend. Gus it’s a really cute child”

“Thak you, maybe I spoiled him a little, but he is the best of my life” Yamato said with shine on his eyes.

“So, you and Mr. Kido are close?” Taichi asked as it was nothing.

“Joe and I are friends since we are kids. When he is not loosing my child he is a real saint. Gus wouldn’t pasted the divorce witout his help”

“Sorry” Taichi said at the sudent revealed of information.

“It’s fine”

“I’m divorced too. But us was really friendly. If I work too much my ex husband is a workaholic. At the end it didn’t work, but I like to think we are still friends”

“Do he help you with Adam”

“He give me a pretty good money”

Yamato let going a pretty dry laught.

“We pasted all our life trying to don’t comment our parents mistakes, and at the end…”

“Do be like that, Gus looks like a really happy kid”  Taichi interrupted when his new friend get dramatic.

“I know, I know. Thak you Mr. Yagami”

“Taichi is fine”

“Yamato” the blonde said as extended his hand.

Before Taichi can get his handshake Adam appear to bite his arm imitating a dog.

“Adam” Yamato exclaimed. But Taichi exagerated the pain and pretend to faint over the park floor. Rapidly Gus and Adam were over him playing.

Taichi laughted and Yamato took photographs. By the end of the day the two kids were eating so many things and fall slept over his fathers shoulders.

“This was really nice” Yamato said “I never had seen Gus talking so much with anyone, he really likes Adam”

“And I had never seen a kid who were so happy sharing his food, I’m afraid that their friednship is compromised” Taichi said getting an honest laught of Yamato.

“I would be glad to see you again” For a moment the conversation get a warm and close feeling.

“Yes, shure” Taichi said. And before Yamato finish to walk away he continued “Maybe I even could convice my sister to watch out the children one day, you know if you want to see me again, with no children, or maybe, if you wanted, or not if you don’t think that”

“Sound nice”.

Taichi looked at the pair of blondies walk away while he hold his sleeping son on his arms, worry that the hard  heartbeats would wake him.

[hornsbeforehalos]

Anytime, Sweetheart: Part 10

Pairing: JDM x OFC (RPF)

Features: Ackles & Padalecki Families, R2, Misha Collins & Vicky Vantoch, Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Ruth Connell, Corey Taylor and other cast members & OFCs* *THIS IS AN RPF FIC**

Series Masterlist Summary: (I’m horrible at summaries, but let me try): Kylin Ackles runs to her brother’s house after leaving her abusive boyfriend of 3 years, where she meets Jeffrey. Events unfold that bring them together, as well as push them apart.  Warnings: Emotional abuse, Physical Violence, mentions of rape, cursing, drinking, recreational drug use (weed), Strip Club, RPF, NSFW**, GIFs, implied smut, Age Difference, Slow burn, Emotional rollercoaster, poorly written smutt, etc… 18+ please

(A/N: This is strictly a work of fiction that I came up with off the top of my head. For fictional purposes his S/O & Son are not mentioned. I love him and his little family, though, so no hate intended. This is the first time posting anything on Tumblr, but I couldn’t get it out of my head since my ao3 fic is currently on hiatus because writers block. Feedback is appreciated. unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.)

TAGS: @jml509 @jesbakescookies, @wayward-mirage, @daddy-kink-confirmed, @aquivercactus

The rest of the weekend went off without any hitches, Thank Chuck.     Jeffrey was standing next to me at the airport as we prepared to bored the plane back to Los Angeles for the week. Jeff didn't have anything scheduled so he was going to be staying with me until the next convention the next weekend. I couldn't contain my nerves as we stood waiting in the line.

   "What're you doing, hon?" He quirked an eyebrow as he looked down to where I was bouncing in my shoes.

   I steadied myself for a moment and pushed my large aviators further up my nose as I lifted my head, "You're gonna be at my house."

"And?"

"I'm pretty sure my house is trashed."

   Jeffrey chuckled and looked forward as he threw his arm around my shoulder and curled me into his side, "I'm pretty sure I'll be okay."

   "You gotta help me clean." I nervously bit the sleeve of the his hoodie I had stolen.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem." he chuckled again, squeezing me close.

"Good."

   My house wasn't as bad as I remembered when we got there. Just dirty dishes and laundry everywhere, thankfully. I cleaned the kitchen as Jeff helped pick up my dirty laundry and throw it into the washer for me. Once everything was tidy I set about figuring out something for dinner.

   "I have everything to make speghetti if you want." I said, standing in front of the cabinent with the door open.

   "Mmmm, I would love some." Jeff rasped, coming up behind me and leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder and kiss my neck.

   I leaned back against him with my eyes closed for a moment, enjoying his scent and the feeling of him around me. He snaked one of his hands that were rested on my hipbones around to splay across my whole stomach as he nipped at my jawline with a grin on his face. I smirked myself as I brought my hands to where his were, pressing myself completely against his tall lean body.    He stepped foward  and pushed me against the counter as he pushed his frame against my back, lips returning to my neck in open mouthed kisses. The pleading whimpers left my lips before I could protest, mixing with his heavy breaths and almost silent groans that came from his throat with a rumble. He rocked into me against the countertop, making my breaht hitch as his hand traveled south towards the waist band of my pajama pants that I had been in all day.

   "You been teasing me all day, you know." He grumbled, fingertips tracing the small sliver of exposed skin btween my waistband and the hem of my shirt. He pushed forward again, rutting the crotch of his worn blue jeans against my ass, making me almost bed over the counter top to allow him access.

  "Jeff," I breathed, voice caught in my throat as my whole body started tingling for his touch.

   "Hmmm? What honey?" He hummed, hand trailing lower as his finger tips dipped under the elastic.

"What're....you...doing?"

   "Shh, Sweetheart, don't worry about it." I could feel his mouth turn into a smile as his tongue danced over the tip of my ear. I closed my eyes as his hand finally reached it's destination and a caloused fingertip swirled its way through my slit.

"Jeff,"

"Hmmm?" He groaned through where his teeth had found a spot on my neck

"Fuck."

   "We'll get there eventually, babe, no rush," He chuckled as he continued to move his finger over my sensitive bulb. Fire crackers went off behind my eyelids after I couldn't keep them open any longer. We stood there with him pressed up against me for an unmeasured amount of time, him rolling my clit between his fingers as he pushed himself against me, and me being a blubbering moaning mess until my legs finally gave out as my orgasm exploaded through my body and he had to hold me up. The sound that came out of my mouth was primal and needy, and my body convulsed until he finally slowed down and retracted his hand from my panties as the tingling subsided.

   "Fuck." I said again, panting against the cool grantite of the counter. With a low chuckle he bent over me and craned forward to kiss my cheek, 

"Speghetti, baby?"

   "I swear girl, Misha's gonna be needing an assistant soon, I'm hiring you to cook all my meals." Jeff praised as he rubbed his full belly.

   "Please, it's not that good." I blushed, looking down as I twirled the final few strands of noodles on my fork.

"Woman, I've eaten speghetti from fucking Italy and it didn't taste this good."

"Liar" I insisted, rolling my eyes. 

"Never to you."

   I redened again as I stood up and gathered our plates, he gave my ass a swat when I turned around from picking up his plate, which earned him an eye-roll as I walked towards the kitchen.    He lifted himself from his chair at the table to wander over to the living room and plop down on the couch with the remote. I smiled to myself at how he looked like he was meant to be there- bare feet propped up on the coffee table, wearing a light cotton shirt and low-slung ACDC pajama bottoms, flipping through channels with his arm resting over the back of the couch, waiting for me to join him. The butterflies in my throat returned at the idea of him wanting me to join him to cuddle on the couch, and I smiled harder as I went to the fridge and pulled two beers out for us before padding over to him.    "What's got you smiling, hon?" He asked as he looked up at me when I handed him his beer. 

   I shook my head a little as I curled up beside him with my own bottle, leaning my head in the crook of his arm and shoulder as I took a sip before answering, 

"You."    "Well I'm glad I can provide." He chuckled as he removed his long arm from the back of the sofa to wrap around my petite body, tucking me closer to him while he still searched for something for us to watch, eventually settling on Pirates of The Caribbean.    I fell asleep during the middle of it, and when he noticed he carried me to the bed and curled up behind me as exhaustion from the weekend took over.

   "Uh, babe, we got a slight problem," I heard the next morning as I felt my shoulder being shook, jarring me from my perfect slumber. "What?" I growled, not wanting to be woken up yet. "Come look outside." He replied, pulling the covers off of me.    With an irritated groan I opened my eyes, rubbing them as I threw my feet over the side of the bed and made my way to the bedroom window. Moving the curtain, I could see what Jeffrey was talking about: About 10-12 obvious reporters were on the street below my apartment, cameras at the ready pointed directly to the window I was looking out of. 

   "You've got to be fucking kidding me." I whined, flipping the paparazzi the middle finger as one of them took a picture.    "They must have seen us come in last night." He assumed, rubbing both his hands over his face before scratching at his beard.    "Or someone tipped them off." I narrowed my eyes as I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower.    "So what are we going to do about this?" I asked as I started the spray and began to undress. Jeffrey ventured his way to the door frame and leaned against it, watching me as I stepped into the tub.    "What do you wanna do about it? Your brother didn't really give us any time to prepare for this."    I narrowed my eyes at the wall as I worked shampoo through my tresses, "I'm going to fucking kill him for that too, ya know."    I was finishing rinsing my hair out when I felt him behind me, his huge hands gliding down my slick rib cage and thighs. He bent down and rubbed his scruff against my sensitive neck, enticing a moan from my lungs. 

   "So fucking breath taking," He mumbled as his lips met my skin, "Always so fucking gorgeous."    I closed my eyes and leaned against him again, his hardness pressing against my ass as he swayed against me. He let his fingers trail back up my sides to my breasts, hardening my nipples as his finger tips danced over them. "Mmmm, Jeffrey." I panted, heat collecting itself between my legs.    "Yeah, I like when you sound like that." He breathed back, bending his knees more and pushing his dick between my thighs to rub against my slick. He let out a long groan at the sensation as his teeth met my shoulder. My knees nearly buckled as the tip ground into my clit, but Jeffrey thankfully held me steady against him and continued to push between my thighs. His hands groped and kneaded at my chest and his teeth moved from my shoulder to my neck to my jaw, coaxing me to turn my head to meet his mouth in a hungry kiss. He let one hand roam down the flat of my stomach to push me back against him as he thrust forward. I could feel him push against my entrace with every grind of his hips, then slide past and bump into the sensitive nerves that sent shockwaves through my whole body. The water was mixing with the wetness in a way that made everything slick between my legs, and I lifted myself on my tip toes to allow him better access to my core.    He slowed the movement of his hips slightly as he let the hand on my stomach move further south while pulling his other hand from my breast and wrapping it across my chest. His finger tips danced lower until he reached my clit and began to gently rub it. Static flowed through my limbs at the intensity and I felt my climax crawl from my core and spread throughout my veins as I practically screamed his name as he held onto me to keep me from slipping. He lightened his touch with his fingers but continued the rocking of his hips, chasing his own release. I squeezed my legs together to increase the friction for him that pulled a gutteral growl from his throat as his nails dug into their place on my shoulder. "More," I begged, not knowing exactly what I wanted more of.    He returned his fingers to swirl over the oversensitive nerves before pulling my legs apart a little to allow him to dip furter to circle around my entrance. My breathing hitched as my nerves flared, anticipating the previous pain. I was suprised that there was only a minimal burning sensation as he gently pushed his index finger into me to the first knuckle.    "Holy fuck, doll." Jeffrey groaned as he felt my mucsles contract around his fingertip, hips stuttering for a second as a new flood of arousal shook through him. I could feel him thicken between my thighs as he wiggled his finger slightly, adjusting his hand so his thumb could rest against my clit as he breathed staggard breaths into my neck.    "More," I repeated, and he gently pushed in to the second knuckle, the both of us letting out a long moan of pleasure at the same time as he pumped in slowly in and out of me.    I could feel the ograsmic sensations returning quickly, the aftershocks of my previous release still not fully calmed before his movements were sending me into another frenzy.    "Make me take it, Jeff." I rasped as I felt myself tip over the edge. My words earned me something that can only be described as a roar as he thrust the rest of his long finger deep inside me as my vision went white. I could feel his body shake against mine and his teeth bite down harshly against my shoulder as he pushed into my thighs one finally time, the head of his dick poking through my legs and spraying his come into the water still falling down my body to be washed away. He continued to pump his finger inside of me as I felt the pressure rise again before the after shocks ever had a chance to wear off. "Fuck....Jeff.....F-f-fuck...Jeff!..." were the only words that I knew at that moment.    "Raaaaah! Yes!....Fuck!.....Yes, baby girl, come....So fucking tight....Yes, let me feel you...." He groaned as he felt the spasm of my inner muscles spasm around his finger as he thrust in and out of me. He held me tight as I let a hoarsening scream rip through my vocal cords, my whole body shivering against his as one of the most furious orgasms of my life exploaded through my insides.    I dropped my head in time to see his second release pour onto my thighs and drip down my legs into the stream of steamy water. As I came down from my high he slowly and carefully pulled his finger out of me, the sudden empty feeling bringing a whimper to my lips. He rested his forhead against the back of my neck as he brought both hands to my hips to pull him self from between my thighs.    "Jesus Christ, woman. If just this is this amazing I can't fathom what it will be like with my dick in you." He panted, trying to steady his breathing.    I let a giggle out as I turned around to face him, his forhead meeting with mine as he held a arm out behind me to lean up against the wall by the shower head. We stood there for a minute to catch our breath.    "I actually have a doctor's appointment tomorrow," I stated as I slipped out of his arms to allow him access to the spray. He stepped up immediately and wet his face and hair, eyes scrunched shut against the water as he nodded his reply. 

   Once we were out of the shower and decent, him in low slung black cargo shorts and a faded band T, me in just a black tank top, one of my brother’s flannels, and blue jean shorts. I scribbled some eyeliner on my face and we set about figureing out what were were going to do with the photographers out side my window.    "Let's just give them something to take a picture of." He chuckeld, opening the balcony door with a cigarette between his lips as he waved me over. I rolled my eyes but joined him, stealing a smoke of my own from his pack and lighting as we both leaned against the railing of the porch and looked down onto the street.    "There they are!" someone immediately shouted and all attention was turned to us. Jeffrey waved down at them with a chuckle, I flipped them off with a scowl.    "Babe, be nice," he laughed, tilting his head towards me as he took a drag from his cigarette.    "I'm going to kill my brother." I repeated my words from earlier, exhaling my own smoke at the same time.    Jeff turned to face me and leaned his side up against the railing, still very concious of the cameras as he pulled me closer to him by the hip by the hand not holding his cigarette. I turned my head away from him to take another drag as he nestled his nose into my temple, humming in my ear while he did it. I could tell the popperazi were eating it up as there were many "aww, kiss her, Jeff, kiss hers!" being yelled from below.    I sighed as I turned my body back to face the railing and leaned over slightly to yell, "If I kiss him, will ya'll go the fuck away?"    Jeffrey laughed and shook his head, scratching his beard with his tongue between his teeth as he smiled at me, "You're fucking crazy." "Yes! Yes! One kiss!" They all started shouting back at me.    Jeffrey chuckled again and took my cigarette from my fingers, stumping them both out in the ashtray before returning his attention to me. He leaned down with my face in his hands and nuzzled my nose for a second with a cheeky smile across his face, obviously showing off, before pulling me to his lips. My own smile took over as he began kissing my mouth over and over again in little chaste nips. I knew the group of reporters would be eating it up, so I snaked my hand around his neck and pulled him in deeper, shoving my tongue down his throat as he bent me backwards and moved his hands from my face to my back. There was a collective of shouts and cat calls before we finally separated. As promised, they all screamed their thanks before wandering off down the road. 

"Vultures," I muttered, relighting the rest of my cigarette. 

   "So I'm basically a fucking virgin again is what the doctor said," I told Jeffrey over the phone on my way back to my apartment after my appointment. "That's fucking hot." He rasped through the line. I rolled my eyes.    "Of course you think so. You don't have to go through the pain of losing it again." I huffed in irritation as I made my way onto the highway, "Uggghhh, speed the fuck up, asshole. Californians don't know how to fucking drive!"    "Calm down, hon, don't kill anyone. And it didn't hurt me my first time, kinda a perk of having a dick." he chucked back. "This is fucking ridiculous." I murmured, rolling my eyes. "It'll be fine, love. Calm down." "I was talking about the fucking traffic, Jeffrey." I snapped.    "Sure you were. No need to get pissy with me, short stack. You know I'll take care of you."    "Who said my second first time will be with you?" I teased, venom obviously fading from my voice. "Huh. Well, I guess I'll just pack up all my-" "Shut the fuck up, Jeffrey, you know I'm talking shit." "And you know I'm only joking. You're stuck with me, girl, remember?"    "Not a bad place to be stuck, if you ask me." I smirked, finally reaching my exit as the traffic lifted, eyeing the In and Out near the intersection, "Food?" "Yes 'mam. Hamburger with extra onions, please."    "Gross, you'r brushing your teeth before kissing me after this." I whined, pulling into the drive through. 

   The rest of the week was filled with me working overtime on Gishwes registrations while Jeffrey puttered around my apartment entertaining himself. I felt bad that I couldn't give him more attention, but with it being the final stretch before registration closed, I was basically swamped with emails and phone calls between myself, Darius, and Misha. I barely had time to cook us dinner by the time I was done every night before crashing from exhaustion. Jeff surprised me with his patience and understanding, reassuring me every time I would apologize that he was perfectly fine.    Soon enough it was time for us to head off to New Orleans for the next convention, and naturally while we were standing in line for gate check with Misha we were swarmed with fans wanting pictures with him and Jeff. One fan girl in particular irked the hell out of me when she immediately shoved her camera into my chest and insisted I take a picture of her and her 'husband' with a sarcastic laugh. I huffed a chuckle and plastered a smile on my face through a clenched jaw as I watched her slither her arm around Jeff's waist and her hand into his back pocket, smug smirk on her face. My eye brow quirked itself up automatcially and Jeffrey, seeing this, quirked his own look at me, mentally willing me to calm myself before I clobbered the stupid bitch. I took the picture and he leaned down to give her a good bye hug and she, to everyone's suprise but her own, grabbed his face with both her hands and pulled his face to hers in a loud smacking kiss.    "Mmmm, you taste like sex," She moaned loudly, shifting her eyes to smirk at me. 

   Jeffrey got the biggest shit-eating grin on his face as he nodded towards me, "You should thank my woman for that, that's her that you're tastin', darling." 

   Misha and I immediately busted out into a belly-clutching laughing fit as the woman huffed her way over to me. I tossed her the camera, a little haphazardly with no regret, and gave her a wink before she trotted off wiping her lips with the back of her hand.    "That was fucking material right there." Misha bellowed as he threw his arm around Jeffrey's shoulder, "Jesus Christ, man, that's gonna be on twitter by the time we get through this line."    I wiped my face of the tears that had sprang due to my laughter as I stepped up to rest my forehead on Jeff's sternum, still chuckling.    "You're gonna need to rinse your mouth out before I think about kissing you again, Mr. J" I said as I looked up to him. He immediately sported a frown before flailing his arms and legs like a child in the beginning of a tantrum.    "How the fuck old are you, Jeffrey Dean?" I scolded with a smirk as I grabbed his hand and drug him through the gate and onto the plane. 

"I mean I guess she's pretty at least." "Look at him not even paying attention to her" "She's got that bitchy face, I bet she's a cunt." "I heard that she cheated on her ex boyfriend with him"    I glared up from behind my laptop with narrowed eyes at the line of fans that were mumbling among themselves as they ventured towards Jeffrey. I was sitting behind him against the curtain working. He had persuaded me to join him since we hadn't seen each other for a lot of the weekend, me bustling Misha around and making sure he got where he needed to be, and Jeff thrown everywhere else.    Jeffrey obviously heard them as well, prompting him to turn to face me and beam, "How's work going, baby doll? Saving the rain forest yet?"

   A rotten smile covered my scowl immediately as I replied sarcastically, "Trying to, honey bunch!" The first girl approached and rolled her eyes at me as Jeff turned to face her. "Hi there! What's your name?" he asked, a fake smile of his own plastered on. "A-A-Amanda," The girl stuttered, suddenly nervous. "More like 'a man, duh'." I mumbled, eyes refocusing to the screen in my lap.    Jeffrey turned back to me with a chuckle, "Now kitten, I'm sure you don't want this lovely girl to think all those rude things she said about you are true,"    I quirked my eyebrow at him then, "Of course not, Mr. J, but you know what they say,  you are what you look like."    He rolled his eyes at me before facing the girl again, taking the picture she wanted him to sign and ripping it into pieces.    "Word of advice, Ms. Amanda? You get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar," he got up and stood on top of his chair with a loud whistle, surprising everyone, including me. 

   "Listen the fuck up. Right now. I know some of you ladies, and a few of you gentlemen," he chuckled and scratched at his beard before continuing to bellow across the room, "don't like my fucking girlfriend. Guess what? Too fucking bad. Most of you have been supportive, and I love the shit out of you for that, but from now on, for the ones who can't keep their big fat fucking mouths shut, like this little group of jealous bitches right here," he gestured to the group of girls who had been mouthing off, "will be getting told the fuck off, and if Kylin here wants to beat the fuck out of you, well," he chuckled again, looking down at me in pure adoration, "I ain't gonna be the one to stop her."    The crowd erupted in applause, save for the few who were obviously embarrassed by being called out in front of everyone, including the celebrities. The row of actors and other guests that sat behind the line, everyone from Jensen and Jared to Rob and Rich, were all standing and applauding as well, Richard screaming inaudible as loudly as possible. Jeffrey jumped down from his seat and took the laptop from me before pulling me up into his arms and planting a wet kiss to my lips as my face immediately turned bright red. I was so overwhelmed with a new emotion that I couldn't stop my eyes from watering. "Thank you, Jeffrey." I whispered against his lips as he pulled away from me. "Anytime, Sweetheart." 

"So we've got another slight problem." Jeffrey rasped through his end of the phone line. "And what's that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspision as I lay on my couch eating ice cream in fron of the T.V. "Well, my publicist called me, she's pissed about me freaking out on everyone ." He had flown back to New York for the week after the New Orleans convention, having been scheduled to appear on one of the morning talk shows filmed there. There had been plenty of rambling through social media about his little 'outburst', even a couple people caputured video that was quickly uploaded to every different platform available. The response was mostly positive and lots of people were defending him, but it still came as no suprise that his PR lady was having a mild caniption. "Sooo, what are you gonna do about it?" I asked, licking my spoon of creamy goodness. "Try not to make another ass out of my self on live televison I guess." He chuckled with a sigh. "Hard for you to do, Mr. J" I smirked "Fuck you, little one, I can be sweet, you'll see." He drawled, voice deep and teasing. I huffed a laugh in reply as I took another bite from the carton. "Alright, I've gotta go. Work calls." He said when he heard his name being called for something. "Talk to you soon, handsome, I....miss you." I silently facepalmed myself at the words that almost came out of my mouth. 'what in the fuck' Thankfully Jeffrey either didn't notice or ignored it, because he simply responded with "Miss you too, girl." before hanging up the phone.

"So Jeffrey, your face has been all over everything online this week, hasn't it?" Kelly Ripa laughed sarcastically, earning her a blush from Jeffrey immediately. "Yeah..." He grimaced, shrugging his shoulders innocently with his tongue between his teeth. "But you were defending your ladies honor!" "I was trying to" he chuckled, scratching his beard nervously. "So what happened, what's the story? Well, first off, let's find out who is your girlfriend, Jeffrey?" She inquired, shifting in her seat to prop her chin on her knuckle as she looked at him. Jeffrey blushed again, looking down and shaking his head before he faced her, "Ha, my girlfriend's name is Kylin, uh, she's...I met her through Jensen from Supernatural, she's his...ha...baby sister." "Whooooooo" came from the audience as Kelly made a surprised 'o' face. 

“I bet you Dean Winchester is pretty protective of his baby sister, huh?”

“Oh, he definately is” He laughed. "So why did you snap at the fans?" She asked the obvious question "Well, you see," Jeffrey cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair as he explained, "Kylin and I obviously have a significant age difference, she's quite a bit younger than me." More 'whoo's' from the audience, "And so people are gonna talk. They say she's a gold digger, a bitch because she doesn't like cameras stuck in her face twenty-four-seven like they've been trying to, they talk crap because she's not what they consider 'beautiful enough' or 'good enough' for me. She has to deal with a lot of crap, and she's been through enough crap in her life that she doesn't deserve that. She’s the most kind hearted soul in the planet, but she’s just a little misfit like me. People don’t know half the awesome things she’s apart of." "That's so sweet. How long have you two been seeing each other?" "A few months now," Jeffrey answered the best he could with having to account for the month we spent apart after my drunken freak out. He nodded his head in thought. "Do you love her?" The question hit him off guard, and his eyes widened quickly as he turned to her, smacking his hand on the table in surprise. "Uh, um...." He couldn't help the embarrasing laughter that followed, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and lifting his glasses up. 

He eventually just took them off and covered his face for a moment as he continued laughing, scrubbing his face finally to help contain himself, buying him a minute to figure out how to answer.

"Well, Kelly, uh.... I haven't told her in person yet and I'm pretty sure she's watching this right now, but.. uh, yeah. I do. She's amazing and I love her." He beamed, turning to the camera to wink before following up with, "She's probably gonna kill me now though." Everyone in the audience applauded, and Kelly hugged Jeffrey's neck as they went to commercial. I sat on my couch with my carton of melted ice cream in complete shock.

part 11 coming 8/24/17! Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)