which is all i needed to feel like that magic reached out and grabbed me

I Own You

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 2508

Warnings: Angst;  rough, unprotected sex; fluffy ending

A/N: I had a mighty need to write some angry, rough Loki… So here you go. I hope you enjoy! 

Originally posted by luvn-loki



A dull headache was the first thing that woke you up. You blinked few times to clear your sight and look at the empty side next to you.

Turning around you noticed that the sheets were a pure mess and then you noticed that it was 2 p.m.

“Ah, great!” you groaned and then pulled to covers to the side.

You were naked and probably got awfully drunk last night.

Then it hit you. You had a fight with the god of mischief before you let tequila possess you.

 You laid back in the bed and tried to remember something more from last night, but you got nada. All you could still feel was the strong smell of the steaming alcohol off your skin.

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This is not the end;

She’s never going to see him again. And he was perfect.  

Lily meets the love of her life in Tesco Extra at 10pm.  read on ao3

Happy birthday to the cutie-pie ria @gxldentrio

The first time Lily Evans meets him is at the self-checkout service at Tesco Extra. He’s got these tall, gangly legs that look like they could go on forever and (from what she can tell from the back of him anyways) an unruly bed of jet black hair.

And, if first impressions were anything to go by then he was also an absolute fool. Clumsy and, to be honest, bordering on idiotic.

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Best Friends (Jungkook one shot smut)

Originally posted by grape-joon

A/N: The link kept spazzing so I had to repost, sorry xx

Summary: You slept with your best friend, Jungkook. A mistake, a drunken adventure destined to gnaw at your mind. But what’s worse? You have feelings for him. 

Genre: Smut, Angst (oh boy), fluff

Pairing: You x Jungkook

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of drinking

You’ve had so many dirty dreams about Jungkook already. So many dreams that felt so real. That’s why when you reached over and touched his arm, you almost fell off of the bed.

You jumped up, dragging the sheet with you to wrap around your very naked body. It was as if he was a complete stranger you woke up next to by the way you backed up and away from the bed. It was worse than that.

It was your best friend.

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Acting - Dylan O’Brien (Smut)

Song: Alessia Cara - Wild Things

Rating: MA (17+ for Explicit Content)

Pairing: Reader x Dylan O’Brien

Word Count: 3,191

Warning: Exhibitionism(sort of), Oral (M>F), NSFW

NO LONGER TAKING REQUESTS!

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home is wherever I’m with you

[read on ao3]

She isn’t one to back down from a fight, but Emma knows the feeling of the tide turning against her well enough to recognize the choice to drown or get out of the undertow.

Facing down the Black Fairy after getting hit so hard by a giant spider that she’s still seeing double – when her only ally here is someone who tried to murder her and banished her True Love to another realm- seems like something of a poor decision. And continuing on when said ally collapses into little more than a pile of robes beside her, while the Black Fairy monologues unceasingly about her overcomplicated plan to take over Storybrooke, is something Emma Swan simply does not have time for at the moment. A strategic retreat is definitely in order.

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You’ll always have me ∾ montgomery de la cruz

Originally posted by despairingfever

posted 4/13/17

request? yes
Saw that you said you wrote for 13rw and I just had to request. Can you do an imagine where the reader and Montgomery are best friends and the reader is Justin’s little sister so when the mom’s boyfriend beats her she goes to Montgomery and he comforts her and more fluff? Thank you !

pairing(s): justin x sister!reader , montgomery x reader (platonic) 

warnings: plenty of cussing

words: 1032

a/n: i couldn’t find any other gifs so that was the best i could find, oops.
have a request? click here


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City lights.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: All these years together, and you had to fall in love before he goes.

Warnings: Angst

Words: 5022

A/N: Real life is taking away the best of me. So I needed to write, even though my brain doesn’t let me. Have fun with this little story. I also recommend you guys to listen to this before or while reading it for a major effect.

A special thanks to Jade (@brighterlights ) for being my beta reader, who has spent a valuable amount of time helping me with my grammar mistakes and poor phrasing. Thank you so much for being this awesome and kind, I appreciate you tons.♥ 


Originally posted by heartsnmagic

It was one of those unusual nights where cold beers end up losing their freshness after being left on the coffee table for way too long. Those nights that remain unnoticed on the electricity bill at the end of the month. Those nights when the alarm sounds, you’re already awake. Yes, they were exceptional nights. But so typical when he was involved in them.

His presence in your life was sporadic, but his memory was splattered all around you. You had pictures, stolen hoodies, his old dog tags, and diaries saved in a tiny box hidden under your bed. He even said once that your place was the best for him to hide his heart because nobody would search for it outside the battlefield.

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5

Stiles x Reader

Requested by Anon


Normally you’d cheer for Stiles, it had been a tradition since forever, no matter what one of you was doing the other would cheer you on. But today you didn’t feel like cheering. Stiles spotted you as he went to take his shot and smiled to himself, you were his lucky charm but as he swung to score you stayed utterly silent.

“Stilinski, we’re aiming for the goal not the carpark!” Finstock yelled at Stiles.

“Yeah s…sorry coach.” Stiles mumbled as he glanced up at you.

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*All My Fault* Newt x reader

◘ Anonymous asked:

Do you think you could possibly do an imagine where the reader and Newt are best friends but when Newt meets Tina he starts to ignore the reader. During the battle with Graves Newt gets really hurt while protecting the reader and Tina tells the reader to back off because it’s her fault. Can the reader act like everything’s fine but slowly stop eating and sleeping because of guilt until Newt notices. Lots of angst but a happy ending please. I hope this isn’t any trouble. Thank you!

This does include a salty, mean Tina. So beware. Take note I am not a Tina hater! But if you don’t like Tina written in a negative light, then this probably isn’t for you >.< That’s all! Carry on ^_^


Your stop in New York City alongside your best friend, Newt Scamander, had become a bit more adventurous than you two had initially planned. Unfortunately, some of Newt’s creatures had escaped his magical case and were scattered throughout the city. With the help of the new ‘friends’ you had made, you tried to work together to recapture them.

You didn’t dislike the new people you had met. In fact, Queenie was perhaps your favorite. Her constant smile and bubbly personality were welcoming and you warmed up to her rather quickly. Jacob, the no maj, was friendly and caring; someone you definitely enjoyed being around. Tina, however, seemed to capture Newt’s attention quite quickly and ever since he had spend nearly most of his time with her. Besides the fact that she had tried to turn you both in to MACUSA, Newt seemed to fancy her and seemed to pay less attention to you which honestly made you feel pretty awful. Newt had been by your side for years and you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He was like the sun in the sky and the stars at night for you. 

You were currently in search of one of Newt’s creatures, the Demiguise also known to you and Newt as Dougal. You were inside a Department store that was adorned in Christmas decorations and you were all huddled behind a giant mass of decorative wrapped gifts. 

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Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

March 23

Simon

We’re not supposed to have food in our rooms.  It’s one of Watford’s most ignored rules.  It’s never enforced, and if the rooms themselves have anything to say about it, they tend to keep their mouths shut.

           Nearly everyone I’ve talked to has some sort of stash in their wardrobe or under their bed.  Agatha loves her sherbet lemons, and Penny has a seemingly endless supply of licorice hidden in a locked cupboard.  Only she knows the whereabouts of the key, assuming she’s telling the truth and there is a key at all.  As for me, I keep at least two mint Aero bars tucked away at all times, though it seems no matter where I hide them, Baz always manages to find them.  Further evidence of vampiric senses, if you ask me.

           Baz is more of a bring-food-from-the-dining-hall-into-the-room kind of person than a secret stash person, at least I’ve never seen any evidence of a stash.  I have to wonder what sort of things Baz would keep hidden away.  Rats maybe, still alive to keep their blood warm for when he gets peckish.  But then again, I would probably have noticed something like that.

           I don’t know how he always manages to get food up to the room unnoticed, but I also know he’s on a first-name basis with Cook Pritchard, so maybe he gets special privileges.

           When he appears in the door this evening, tall and silent as ever, he’s holding a steaming mug of tea.  I don’t say anything about it, I know better at this point. He’ll just snap at me.

           He crosses the room and sets the mug down on his nightstand, dropping down to his bed and uncurling to his back.  I raise an eyebrow at him, stretched out like a cat. “What’s with you?” I muse.

           He throws a glance my way.  “What?”

           “I dunno, you’re just being… weird.”

           “Thank you for your opinion, Snow, it’s entirely uncalled for as usual.”

           I roll my eyes.  “Forget I said anything.”

           “I already have.”

           I turn back to my textbook with a scowl.  Serves me right for trying to start casual conversation, though maybe I was a bit rude about it.  At least I can say I tried.

           Baz lays there on his bed for another moment or so, staring up at the ceiling, breathing slowly and deeply like this is the first time he’s properly filled his lungs in weeks.  I glance at my watch.  I’m supposed to meet Penny in the library to study in half an hour, I don’t need to go just yet.

           When Baz stands, he takes a detour on his way to the bathroom to reach over and flip my book out of my hands.

           “What the hell is wrong with you?” I call after him, but he responds simply by slamming the door in my face.

           Classic Baz.  Simple, stupid, but effective.  Like a playground bully.

           I wonder if he gets any actual joy out of it.

           The heat of my anger is already fading, but it still frustrates me that he’s been getting away with this kind of abuse all our lives and nothing I do ever seems to deter him.  It’s like he’s a giant and I’m a pissed-off ant, biting and crawling and trying to hurt him, only to be flicked away by a giant indifferent finger.

           His mug on the bedside table catches my eye, steam still curling off the tea.  He hasn’t taken a sip yet, which is surprising.  Usually he drinks the stuff practically straight out of the kettle, like it isn’t scalding his entire throat on the way down.  Maybe it’s not, maybe that’s some obscure vampire thing. Or maybe he’s just a prat that wants to look tough.

           The lightbulb that goes off in my head is almost audible as I watch the steam dance above the mug.

           Grabbing my wand from the sheets beside me, I stand from my bed as quietly as I can and tiptoe across to Baz’s nightstand, wincing with every creak from the floorboards.  The tea is that perfect smooth colour, brown and soft with cream and sugar.  Sparing a fleeting glance at the bathroom door, I dip my wand down so that the tip just barely breaks the surface of the tea, sending ripples floating away from the intrusion.

           Needs more salt,” I murmur in as soft a voice as I can manage, pushing the crackle of magic from the base of my neck down through my wand arm and into the tea.

           “What was that, Snow?” Baz calls from the other side of the door.  There’s a sudden splash of the sink.

           “I didn’t say anything, twat,” I call back, carefully bringing my wand over my mouth and letting the stream of droplets fall onto my tongue.  It’s flowers and cream and… salt.  Definitely salt.

           I smirk as I return to my bed.  Mission accomplished.

           When Baz re-emerges, I pull my textbook closer so he can’t knock it away again.  I try to look appropriately engrossed.  He doesn’t pause at the door, just goes straight back to his bed, and though I can’t see his face in my periphery, it seems as though he doesn’t suspect anything.

           Needs more salt isn’t a proper spell, per say.  More of a charm.  Penny says that spells occur when the words play the biggest role.  They are usually well-known sayings or lyrics, things that carry a little bit of their own magic, which makes them the easiest for beginning mages to master.  Charms are different, harder to control.  The power of a charm doesn’t lie in the words but in the intent.  The magic comes entirely from the mage.  Often charms come out as accidents, when something is said with so much feeling that magic simply slips in.

           Penny is quite good at charms, at putting magic into whichever words she chooses.  She insists that anything can be a charm with enough magic.

           As Baz reaches for his tea, I can’t help but watch.

           I sure hope Penny is right.

           Baz raises the mug to his lips and takes the first sip.

           His features freeze like he isn’t quite sure how to arrange them.

           After a beat he lowers the cup and stares at it like it’s a puzzle, his brow beginning to furrow.

           He takes another thoughtful sip, and this time the tiny curl of his lip betrays a hint of disgust.

           I make sure to be staring back down at my book when he turns his gaze on me.  I feel it burn into the top of my head, and the burn spreads to my cheeks as I try not to crack.

           I can still feel his eyes on me as he takes a long, pointed drink from the mug.

           Prat.

           I glance back at my watch.  It’s still too early, but Penny will probably be in the library already, and I don’t know how long I can handle Baz’s stare.

           I close my book and stuff it in my bag, wearing what I hope is a neutral expression and not a beet-red blush.  I stand from my bed and slip into my shoes. I see him take another sip.  When I look at him, he’s still watching me, and his face is surprisingly clear for someone drinking salted tea out of spite.

           I’m not fully sure which one of us is the winner here.

           I’m halfway out the door when I decide to break the tension.

           “April Fool’s,” I state like it’s a simple good-bye before I shut the door.

           I’m two stairs down as he yells “IT’S NOT EVEN FUCKING APRIL YOU TWAT!”

In Sickness and In Health

Based on a prompt request from @like-waves-on-the-beach for some sick!Killian.

Summary: Emma is sick and tired, literally. As always, she perseveres by pushing through her bout of the flu because only Emma takes care of Emma. When Killian comes down with the same flu, how will he handle it? Is he a cut above the average ailing male, or will Killian manage the man flu the same way he does most things… with panache?

Thank you to my beta @xhookswenchx. I appreciate you knocking this out so quickly!!

Rated M

7.7K words

Read on ao3         


Emma’s head was pounding, she felt as if it might pop like a balloon at any moment, and her eyes actually hurt. Sitting at her office desk with her eyes closed she softly rubbed her temples.  Who messed with the goddamn heat, it’s freezing! She groaned aloud when she realized even her internal voice sounded whiny and sick. She didn’t dare verbalize any of her complaints, of course; she couldn’t have people thinking she couldn’t handle something as simple as the flu.  This was the third day, and although she wasn’t running as high of a fever anymore, she still felt like shit. The past two days she’d gritted her way through work, not wanting to shirk her responsibilities. This morning she had decided enough was enough. She put on her favorite new blouse, a pair of ultra skinny jeans, and opted to leave her hair down, curling it. She was determined to at least look good if she couldn’t feel good.

“Emma, why don’t you go home and rest? Your father and newest deputy are more than capable of holding down the fort in your absence.” Killian had walked up behind her and was gently massaging the base of her skull.

It felt like heaven as Killian rubbed her aching neck. “Newest deputy, I like that,” she mumbled.

“I’ve heard he’s quite dashing, and rather well endowed,” he whispered into her ear.

Emma laughed then grabbed her head, “It hurts to laugh.”

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A Way to You Again: Part 3

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Excessive Drinking

Word Count: 1538

Part One | Part Two

Summary: Bucky and Y/N have been fairly successful at keeping their relationship hidden from the rest of the Avengers. That is… until Nat walks into the kitchen one night and finds Bucky kissing Y/N. While Y/N is relieved that their relationship is out in the open it soon becomes more complicated than she could have ever imagined.

Author’s Notes: Ugh. The feels! Also - Bar Harbor is a real town in Maine that I am obsessed with/want to visit terribly! Thanks to the lovely @melconnor2007 for the request.

Tags are at the bottom. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged/removed. Hopefully I didn’t miss anyone!

Originally posted by adoringemiliaclarke

Originally posted by adamisstillinhellthankstoyou

Waking up so early ended up being an advantage for me. It usually took over eight hours for me to get from New York City to Bar Harbor. It was a cozy coastal town that I had always found magical with its whimsical shops and beautiful scenery. My family spent most of our summer vacations in the little town when I was younger. During times of distress I somehow always came running back. The cottage itself was small, plain, and old, but to me it had always been perfect. It was nestled on the outskirts of town overlooking the ocean. It was home, and I felt the relief of my sudden return as I pulled onto the beaten gravel driveway.

As I gathered my things from the car I reached out to grab my phone. I had forgotten to turn it off or maybe I had left it on intentionally… I really didn’t know. I looked at the screen – no messages. Part of me felt slightly disappointed, but I highly doubted Tony had had the chance to rat me out since Steve and Bucky were most likely still on their mission. I sighed sadly as I pressed the power button until the screen went blank. If I was going to figure this out without any interference, I needed it off. There was of course the alternative – that I had already figured everything out on the journey here and that maybe I needed to walk away from it all. The thought made my heart sink. No – I wouldn’t go there yet. First I needed rest and copious amounts of alcohol.

I made my way up the uneven path to the house as I lugged all of my bags with me. I struggled with the lock on the door – swearing under my breath as I jiggled my key until I was finally able to open the door. I dropped my bags at the door and stretched wearily. I wasn’t worried about anything other than getting a drink and sleeping. The long drive had left me stiff and exhausted. I was worried that the main source of my exhaustion was the creeping sadness that I was trying to keep at bay. I knew I needed to think about what had happened the night before and what I had discovered this morning, but it was too new – too raw for me to process rationally. I ran my hand down my face as I wearily stumbled into the small kitchen. I opened the cabinet where my dad had kept his collection of odd coffee mugs from our various trips and reached towards the back – sighing with relief as I procured the bottle of whiskey that I had hidden for myself. I took the bottle with me as I made my way to one of the tiny bedrooms on the other side of the cottage. Luckily – since I paid for someone to maintain the cottage while I was away – it looked just as I had left it before joining the Avengers. I plopped myself onto the bed and snuggled my way under the blankets before unscrewing the cap of the bottle and taking a swig.

I was finding it impossible to not think about Bucky, and the night before. The feeling of his lips against my skin. How he laughed breathlessly as he teased me relentlessly. The way he had looked at me… like he had never wanted something so much in his life. The way he told me I was beautiful – the words dripping with admiration. I sighed to myself before taking several more swigs from the bottle. Of course all of these memories were tinged with self-doubt and a feeling of betrayal because of Nat’s revelation. Had he said the same things to her? Had he looked at her the same way? Did he still feel something for her – was that why he hadn’t been overly keen on being open about us with the others? Each thought called for a few more drinks. The stinging sensation of the alcohol as it made its way down my throat was much more preferable than the heartache I was currently feeling. I kept drinking until I drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, my mind seemed set on not letting me have a moment’s reprieve from my self-imposed misery.


My dream seemed to be a video montage of Bucky and I’s greatest hits. While the memories swirled into a blur the dream centered around the first time Bucky and I had spent the night alone together in Stark tower. It had been a month since Bucky had kissed me for the first time, and I was ecstatic to have time alone with him without the threat of someone accidentally interrupting. Bucky seemed to be absolutely bursting with nervous energy as the others prepared to leave for a weekend mission. Steve had been the first to notice after Bucky had accidentally tripped on a rug, as he was pacing in the common room, causing a slew of profanity to spill from his mouth while I tried to muffle my laughter.

“You…eh…you okay there, Buck? You seem nervous…” Steve had asked uneasily.

“No… no I am fine. Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Bucky was just a little too adamant with his response which made Steve chuckle under his breath.

“Suit yourself,” Steve replied. “We’ll see you guys next week,” he called as the others entered the elevator. Tony was still demanding that we didn’t trash the place in his absence as the elevator doors closed.

“Finally!” Bucky exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air dramatically.

“Are you… are you okay?” I asked through giggles. He answered my question with his famous lopsided grin. The one that made me feel like I could have my way with him then and there – consequences be damned. “What’s gotten into you?” His behavior wasn’t very Bucky-like.

“Never mind that! You stay in here… you are banned from the kitchen until further notice. Promise you won’t come in?” he asked sincerely.

I chuckled at this remark. “Um Bucky… I’m pretty sure Tony banned me from the kitchen after the first meal I attempted to make for everyone,” I grinned at him sheepishly as I remembered the whole cooking fiasco. In my defense I had told them I was a terrible cook.

Bucky laughed at that. “Okay… Just wait out here and I will come and get you in a little while… promise?” he asked sweetly.

“Cross my heart,” I smiled back. He left the room beaming as I turned my attention back to my book.

A few hours passed – Bucky would occasionally pop out of the kitchen to see what I was doing and then eventually make his was back to continue his secret operations. Finally, he came out of the kitchen with a giant grin plastered on his face. I smiled back at him – his smiles were always contagious.

“If you will follow me, please,” he said formally as he offered his arm to me. I giggled at him and stood up from the couch, hooking my arm in his. As we entered the dining room I gasped. Bucky had prepared an entire meal – homemade fettuccine,  breadsticks made from scratch, and a fresh salad all covered the table. He seated me at the table and poured both of us a glass of wine. I smiled at him sweetly as he handed me mine, before taking his place across the table from me.

“So he cooks?” I raised an eyebrow playfully as I brought the glass to my lips.

He chuckled. “Doll, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me. I just wanted to do something for you. It’s the first time we’ve been able to just walk around this tower and act the way we actually want to…. And do whatever it is that we’re thinking,” he grinned slyly at me as he paused.

“What is it that you’re actually thinking?” I asked coyly.

“Of doing this,” he whispered as he leaned over the table to kiss me. It was sweet but urgent, and he pulled away too soon. “Consider this our first official date,” he added as he winked at me playfully.

I couldn’t help but smile. It was one the kindest things anyone had done for me in a very long time. “Bucky…. Thank you,” I whispered shyly across the table.

“Well don’t thank me until after you’ve tried it,” he laughed.


I woke up with a start. For a moment I was happy, but the moment gave way to bitterness as my brain reasoned with itself – it had just been a dream. A flashback to happier days. That night had been the first night that Bucky had told me I was beautiful. It was also the first night that he truly began to open up to me about his struggles with his past. Ever since then we had harbored a deeper connection between each other. Tears fell bitterly from my eyes as the bed shifted from the weight of someone else laying beside me.

I turned over slowly and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for coming,” I whispered before falling to pieces.


Tags: (A few tags wouldn’t work – sorry!)

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Underwear - Phanfic (Smut)

Phil stared at the tweet, his mouth slightly agape.

As someone who doesn’t go outside or open the curtains ‘spring’ is just the time when it gets warm enough to walk around in my underwear.

After being in a relationship with Dan for eight years, Phil had never seen such a bold statement on his twitter, and about underwear of all things. Would he really be walking about their flat in nothing but his boxers? That didn’t seem very in character of him. Dan was the type of guy who sometimes kept his shirt on during sex. Phil didn’t mind that, of course. It was his own body. The only issue was that sometimes, things get caught in the fabric. “Babe?” Phil heard his lover’s voice from the lounge. “Yeah?” “Have you seen my MacBook charger?” Dan appeared in the doorway to Phil’s bedroom.

Oh. My. God.

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Study Partner (Taeyong x Reader)

How goes my fellow nut busters? I’m jumping right onto the request train by giving you some fluffy and a little smutty study partner Taeyong! While our resident being of perfection may have enough sex appeal to shut down a male stripper convention, I think Taeyong/s sweeter side needs a bit more loving too. So I hope y’all enjoy this one because it was really fun to write!!

p.s. Taeyong can bust my nut anytime. anywhere. he can have me over easy, scrambled, or sunny side up tbh

Originally posted by teeuai

Staring out the window of your classroom like some angsty anime character was one of your favorite pastimes. You wished every waking hour you were in this hell hole of a school to be outside, riding your bike through the streets, picking flowers in the park, playing in the stream that ran through town, anything but this class.

It’s not like you were bad at writing and literature, in fact, you were exceptional, the brightest in your class. But you hated the teacher, hated what he made you write. You didn’t want to write about the characters in a Greek tragedy, you didn’t want to analyze Jane Austin, you wanted to write soaring stories about adventurers, magic, and romance. This class made you despise writing, and you loathed that, because writing was one of your secret passions.

You loved nothing more than sitting by that stream, feet soaking in the cold spring water as the plum blossoms overhead showered you with their petals. You would have your notebook in hand, writing story after story, poem after poem, they just sprang off your pen onto paper like you were born to write.

Many argue that you were a born writer, including your prick of a teacher.

“_______!,” you heard that deep voice snap you name for the fifth time that period.

You languidly turned your head away from the window, one eye brow quirked, “Yes, sir?”

He angrily furrowed his brow and squeezed the open book in his hands, obviously frustrated as he asked you, “What metrical pattern did Shakespeare use in many of his plays?”

You sighed, looking down where your fingers were playing with your pink mechanical pencil as you droned, “He used unrhymed iambic pentameter, called blank verse. He diverts from this several times in many of his plays and also uses other simple forms of poetry and prose.”

You felt the wide eyes of your classmates as they looked at you slack jawed, your chin titling toward the window to resume your usual position. Your teacher stopped you again, “And which of his plays are we reading? Or have you not been paying attention for the past forty-”

“Othello,” you interrupted, looking your teacher dead in the eye. “We’re reading Othello, believed to be written by Shakespeare in 1603.”

“Good,” your teacher replied, “Why don’t you stand up and continue reading for us then, Miss _______? Since you seem to know so much about it.”

You shot him a glare because he knew you didn’t have the book on you. You had read Othello countless times by yourself, so you didn’t ever bother bringing it to class. You were about to spit out at him like a viper when you felt a nudge on your arm from beside you.

“Here,” you turned to find the intense dark eyes of one of your classmates, Lee Taeyong, trained on you intently. He held out his copy to you, finger pointing out the line where the class had left off.

You raised your eyebrows at him, lips parting as you went to convey your thanks, but felt it catch in your throat. You grabbed the book from him instead, cheeks pink as you stood up and began to read. You couldn’t even comprehend the words that were coming out of your mouth, but you felt Taeyong’s soft gaze on you the whole time.

You were saved by the lunch bell, signaling that you were free from that wretched class and embarrassing situation. You carefully closed Taeyong’s copy of Othello and handed it back to him as you mumbled, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he took his book, giving you a small smile. “You staying in here for lunch?”

You were busy packing up your things, turning to him, “What?” You didn’t expect him to keep talking to you, so you were surprised when he asked again.

“Are you eating in here?,” he repeated, smiling to himself when he saw you blush and turn away.

“No, I always eat outside,” you said, feeling guilty because you thought you were being too rude. “I eat at the picnic benches, if you want to join.”

“Would you mind?,” he asked, putting his things into his bag and standing up, looking hopeful.

“No,” you mumbled, already weaving through the desks and out the classroom sliding doors, trying your best to calm the heat in your cheeks.

Taeyong didn’t say much, thankfully, as the two of you walked side by side through the hall. You saw numerous people whisper to one another, and some girls give you nasty looks. It wasn’t a secret that Taeyong was literally the most wanted boy in the entire school, he was absolute perfection, practically a prince. You’d never really paid much attention to the gorgeous student, but you shared every single class with him, and knew that he was ranked second in the school academically.

Second behind you.

You held first place by some miracle, even when you did nothing at all. You were just good at testing, that’s about it. To be honest, you thought Taeyong deserved it far more than you, seeing as he worked a lot harder for his scores and grades. He never seemed mad about being second though, he was a little quiet and acted content all the time, so you could never tell what he was really thinking. You couldn’t help but be a little curious as to why he wanted to hang out with you, he never really showed much interest before. You never even had a real conversation with him, the most you got was when he would congratulate you once again for staying in first place.

You reached the busy picnic benches that sat underneath the blooming plum blossoms, a picturesque scene that made your fingers itch to pull out your notebook. You usually did a lot of your writing at lunch, but since Taeyong was there, you didn’t want him to see. It was lowkey embarrassing and your writing was pretty much a gateway to your heart and soul, something you didn’t share easily.

You sat down at an empty table, fixing your uniform skirt and crossing your legs as Taeyong sat across from you. The two of you pulled out your lunches and ate in a strange but not uncomfortable silence. You were curious though, sneaking glances at him occasionally while he ate, completely unaware that he caught you staring every single time much to his amusement.

You cleared your throat, swallowing a spoonful of yogurt, “Thanks again for what you did in class, Taeyong, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, I know how hard he is on you,” he chuckled looking at you with cutely scrunched eyes, “But I think he does it with the best intentions in his heart. You’re really his favorite student, you know.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and eating another spoonful angrily, “That man wants nothing more than to see me fail,  it’s like it’s his one mission in life.”

“I think it’s cool how you just know everything though,” the dark haired boy said, his eyes widening in admiration. “It just comes so easily to you, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Honestly,” you admitted, picking at the table, “I really enjoy literature and writing, but hate being taught it.”

Taeyong laughed, “Everyone can tell, you’re always writing in that little green notebook of yours at lunch,” he nodded to where said notebook poked out of your open bag.

Your eyes widened and your face turned pink, “I-I just do it for fun, it’s not like I’m studying or anything.”

“I know,” he smiled, resting his head in his hand as he looked at you. “I think it’s really cute though because you’re always acting so tough.”

If you weren’t fire engine red at that point, you would have been proud of yourself, but you could feel the heat in your face and neck. You couldn’t even manage a reply, melting under his unabashedly adoring gaze, his smile too sweet for words.

His mouth quirked to the side in a smirk, “Is your yogurt too spicy for you?”

You gaped at him, mouth morphing into a smile of disbelief as you leaned over the table and smacked his shoulder, “You…!”

The two of you laughed suddenly, something changing after that. You felt a lot calmer around him, happiness creeping into your bones as you finally found enjoyment at school for the first time. You two talked about whatever came to mind, and it felt so natural and real, you’d have never thought Taeyong was as down to earth and sweet as this. One moment you were talking like friends and then next you were flirting like your lives depended on it.

It was intoxicating and beautiful.

“I have a question,” he said, absentmindley playing with your fingers, tracing the dainty ring your mother had given you on your birthday.

“Hm,” you hummed, watching the way he concentrated on the lines of your palm and shivering at the feeling of his touch. It made you squeeze your thighs together under the table and you never wanted him to stop. Taeyong stretched out his legs and tangled them with yours, brushing his knee against your inner thigh. You let out a small gasp at the touch, but Taeyong didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with his words.

“Would you mind being my study partner?,” he asked, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. “It’s just…you’re so good at everything and it may not look like it, but I’m kinda struggling to stay afloat-”

“Taeyong,” you stopped him with a smile, feeling brave enough to brush the hair from his eyes. “Of course I can. I need to get my act together too anyway. We can help each other.”

“Really?,” he breathed, looking relieved as his shoulders sagged. “God, I could kiss you right now, to be perfectly honest.” He looked breathless and he seemed to look at you differently for a second, eyes flashing something deeper.

You were shocked but tried to save the situation quickly, “Shut up,” you laughed, taking your hand from him and standing up as the bell signaling lunch range. “I need someone to get my ass into gear anyway.”

Taeyong hummed, wiggling his eyebrows jokingly and giving you a smirk, “I like the sound of that.”

You made a noise of disgust and walked with him back to class, “We can go to my place later if you like, I have snacks.”

“Snacks sound perfect,” he said, bravely taking your hand and making you gape at him again. He carefreely swung your joined hands, like it was the most natural thing to do.

“Taeyong,” you gulped, feeling the stares and glares as you walked back inside. “What are you doing?”

“Can I not platonically hold your hand?,” he asked innocently, eyes wide and soft, but the quick smirk on his mouth said otherwise.

You groaned and let him hold your hand with his sweater paws, leading you like that from class to class for the rest of the day until the final bell sounded the end of school. Your stomach churned with excitement. To be perfectly honest, you were both happy and confused with how Taeyong was acting. One moment he was acting like the best friend you’d never had and the next he was acting like your boyfriend. You wouldn’t mind either of those things, but both? That would be like a dream come true. You weren’t going to lie, as a writer you were a hopeless romantic, and you always imagined how everything would be when you fell in love. You couldn’t even count how many tales of romance you’d written, how many poems to your future boyfriend you’d scribbled in your journal. As of now, everything was living up to your expectations, though, not necessarily with the person who you thought it would be. It was a pleasant surprise though that you welcomed with open arms.

You’d always thought Taeyong was absolutely gorgeous, but you didn’t know what his personality was like. You only knew he was sweet and hardworking. You wouldn’t have believed he was a complete flirt if you hadn’t experienced it firsthand yourself. The strange thing was, Taeyong never dated anyone, never flirted with anyone before he began to with you.

It also didn’t hurt that you could practically taste the sexual frustration radiating off of him.

You looked over to where the dark haired boy was packing up his things, hypnotized by the way he neatly and methodically tidied everything up. You walked over to him and poked his rib cage, watching in amusement as he jumped and shot you a cute angry look.

He pouted, “Hey, don’t! I’m really ticklish.”

“Oops, many finger slipped,” you grinned, to which he smiled to himself as he finished packing.

“You ready to go?,” he asked, sliding on his backpack. “I rode my bike here, we can ride it to your place.” He was practically bouncing on his toes as he took your hand and led you out of the classroom.

“Okay,” you smiled, letting him pull you away and thinking about how cute he was for riding a bike to school. How much more perfect could he possibly get? You literally saw no flaws in him.

You walked out to the bike rack and Taeyong unchained his sturdy black bike. He swung his leg over it and patted the handlebars and winked, “Here, I’ll be really careful, don’t worry.”

You gulped, a little freaked out by the prospect of balancing your ass on a thin piece of metal. But you trusted Taeyong and he seemed capable of maintaining his balance. You grabbed his hand and he helped you sit as comfortably as you could on the cold metal that pressed against the back of your thighs. Much to your surprise, Taeyong helped you fix your skirt, lifting you gently to tuck it carefully underneath your legs without a word. You blushed and grabbed onto the rubber grips of the handles, jumping when Taeyong slid his hands over yours and pushed off.

He wobbled at first, unaccustomed to the added weight, but he quickly recovered and peddled strongly down the road, cruising past the houses. You pointed out to him which way to go and he smoothly made the turns, the spring wind whistling through your hair as the afternoon chill began to set in.

Thankfully, you arrived at your house, the sun still fighting in the sky as Taeyong pulled up along the curb. The steps to your house were a perfect place for you to dismount, only stumbling a little bit as you clumsily slid off the handlebars. The two of you giggled at your less than graceful landing and Taeyong simply let his bike flop down as you walked up to your door. Goosebumps raised up your legs as you shivered in place and fumbled for your keys in your school bag.

“You’d think winter would end already,” Taeyong casually commented, daring enough to run his hand up and down your exposed thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

You shot him a look, but he just smiled boyishly. You finally found your key and shoved it in the lock as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than the heat of your house to swallow you whole. It was like a wave of summer when you walked in, the dry heat feeling orgasmic on your bare legs as you took off your shoes.

Taeyong did the same, looking around your house curiously, “It’s really cute.”

“Thanks,” you said in amusement, “Come on, we can study in my room.”

“What about snacks?,” Taeyong asked, looking hopeful and hungry.

“I’ll bring some up, don’t worry,” you laughed, already trudging into the kitchen to grab some chips and grapes you had in the fridge. You heard Taeyong climbing the stairs and shouted, “It’s the second door on the right!”

You heard a grunt of affirmation and bounded up the stairs with your backpack and snacks in hand. You entered your room to already find Taeyong sprawled comfortably on your bed, pulling out notes and textbooks.

“Comfy?,” you asked, moving aside pillows and plopping down beside him.

He chuckled, scanning his notebooks, “Perfectly. What do you want to look over first? I was thinking writing and literature.”

You huffed, popping a grape in your mouth, “If we have to, I want to get through the worst first.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder as you sat up and leaned your head on it.

“I know,” you strained, pulling out your very minimal notes. “But it’s just something I don’t like being taught. I want to learn it on my own, through my own enjoyment.”

“Enjoyment, hm?,” the dark haired boy pondered, glancing at your notes before looking up at you exasperated. “_______, aren’t you worried you’ll fall behind?”

You’d never had the feeling you were ever drowning in work or behind the curve, always being right on track regardless of how hard you tried. You shrugged, looking at him with raised eyebrows, “Not really.”

“Well, I’m worried for you,” Taeyong said with a sigh. “You’re too smart and gifted to fall behind, and I don’t want to see that.”

“Taeyong? I’ve always wondered this but,” you murmured, tracing a finger on a vein up his forearm absentmindedly. “Don’t you want to be ranked first?”

Taeyong turned towards you, his dark eyes hard as he echoed you, “Not really.”

Confused you inquired, “But you’re always working so hard-”

“And it’s because of you,” the handsome boy interrupted, locking eyes with you. “You make me work harder than anyone else, you make me try, and no one else gives me that.” You didn’t notice it, but Taeyong had leaned closer, his breath fanning over your face. His voice was quiet, a soft murmur, “If I didn’t have you always one step in front of me, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Taeyong,” you whispered, his lips hovering just above yours, making your heart beat a mile a minute in your chest. He looked so soft, so exposed and vulnerable like he’d been craving to get that off his chest, to tell you.

“I don’t want to be ranked first,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours for a fraction of a second.

“I just want you.”

It was like a wave of feelings and sensations came crashing down on you, one minute you were a hairsbreath away from Taeyong, and next he was washing all over you. His body was pressing yours into the bed, your hands were tangled in his hair, and his lips were making what felt like love to yours. He kissed you passionately, like all the pent up feelings in his heart had just released into his body, hands and mouth driven by another force.

He cupped your face softly, but his lips and the rest of his body said otherwise. His chest rubbed against your clothed breasts and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. He took this opportunity to slide his tongue in, tasting the grapes you had eaten and groaning at the way your body moved against him. You spread your legs and welcomed the knee that slid your skirt up to your hips and pressed against your clothed heat. Taeyong’s kisses were so wet, the sounds coming from your mouth made you go delirious as the fire in your stomach was stoked.

Deprived of oxygen, he pulled away with a gasp, looking so fucking gorgeous with his messed up hair and swollen lips. You leaned up and pressed kisses to his sharp as a knife jawline, moaning when his hands began to unbutton his shirt. Your finger helped him along by untucking it from his belt, craving to see the creamy skin underneath.

You nearly cried when he slid it off his shoulders, fingers tracing down the warmth of his skin and running down his lean abs, “Taeyong…” You pressed kisses to his chest, tasting him with your tongue as you dragged your wet muscle along his defined collarbones.

He smirked at your reaction, his fingers now making quick work of your shirt, tossing it across the room as he exposed your chest, “Now we’re even.”

“Please, Tae, I need to feel something. Just touch me,” you whispered, breath coming in gasps as you sat up and placed his hands on your hips.

He slid them down and under your skirt, squeezing your ass over and over as he groaned, “Come over here.”

He pulled you close, laying one of your legs over his thigh as he tugged you until your clothed heat was pressed against the bulge in his pants. You gasped when he began to rub himself against you, head going blank of everything except for him and the way he was moving against you. He rolled his hips into you with a groan, hands on your ass as he helped you move in tandem with him until you found the rhythm yourself.

You tangled your fingers into his soft hair when he leaned down to litter the tops of your breasts with love bites, sucking dark purple bruises into your skin. You whimpered when he slowed down, your hips still eager against his as he kissed your neck, “Please…”

He hushed you, taking his time as he felt the wetness through your panties soak the crotch of his uniform slacks, “Take it easy, baby girl. Take a moment,” he dragged his bulge slowly up your clothed slit, “To just feel this, to feel me.”

You rolled your head back, drunk on the feeling off him teasing your clit with his clothed member, “Oh, fuck…”

Taeyong’s eyes were glazed over, small beads of sweat dripping down his jaw and neck. You leaned over and licked up the tantalizing drops, tasting the salt of his skin and humming as you pressed kiss after kiss to his neck. As much as you loved how Taeyong could have so much self control, you wanted release badly, for him to make you come all in your panties.

“Taeyong, please,” you whispered, panting as you looked at him pleadingly, biting your bottom lip in want.

Instantly his hips began to move faster, slowly working up to a newer, rougher speed that left your body on fire. His hands found their place back on your ass and he urged you to move along with him, his eyes burning with desire as you complied willingly. He rutted his hips into you, causing your breasts to bounce as he ground into you roughly. You cried out when he inched up only a little bit and found your clit, driving hard into the spot when he noticed your reaction. The roughness of his slacks felt like pure nirvana on your sensitive bundle of nerves and your voice broke as you called his name out.

Taeyong’s voice was deep and husky, urging you to release as he continued to dry hump you, “Come on baby girl, soak those panties for me. Show me how wet you can make them.”

He took hold of your hips and turned you onto your side, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder as he drove into you on his knees. The new angle at which he rubbed against you made you see stars, and you felt your release upon you. You gave one last strained moan, gasping as you threw your head back and came hard, flooding your underwear with your essence as Taeyong continued to thrust against you, chasing his own high. A few moments later, he came crashing down as well, hips stuttering as he came inside of his pants, his member straining over and over against the fabric, so much so that you could see it twitching. You watched with half lidded eyes as Taeyong groaned, his head lolling back and languidly rolling his hips against your heat. It was possibly the hottest thing you’d ever seen and you felt your core tighten one last time as you came again. You gasped and road out the mini release, reaching down and rubbing yourself through your panties as best you could to prolong the feeling. Taeyong groaned at the sight, leaning down to kiss you again, swapping saliva with you as your tongues danced in sync.

When the two of you had regained your breath, Taeyong flopped down beside you, scattering notes off the bed as he pulled you into his arms. You welcomed his embrace, burying yourself deep into chest as you inhaled his homey scent, like laundry detergent and something so Taeyong it hurt.

He cradled your head and murmured against your hair, “You’re so incredible, ______, you know that?”

You laughed breathily into his skin, kissing his collarbones as you whispered, “And do you know how amazing you are, Lee Taeyong?”

You looked up and was met with a soft smile that you leaned in and kissed gently, “I mean it,” you affirmed with another kiss to his cheek, “You don’t need me to motivate you because you’re already so good on your own.”

“Doesn’t mean I still don’t want you,” he mumbled, looking away with a blush on his cheeks. “I’m sorry if I came off like a douchebag, it’s just you’re so cool, ______, and I just wanted to impress you-”

You stopped him with a kiss, laughing against his mouth as you pulled away to see his confused gaze, “And here I was thinking I was the lame girl with the gorgeous popular boy chasing after her.”

“No,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes and dragging his lips against your neck. “You just get the nerdy guy who can’t talk to girls without coming off like a dork.”

You laughed and played with his hair, gazing at him adoringly, “You’re really a strange one, Lee Taeyong. I like that.”

“You can keep me around if you like,” the gorgeous boy smiled, “So long as you be my study partner…and my girlfriend.”

“I think I can agree to those terms,” you grinned pulling him down to kiss him way past sunset. Your notes and studying were completely forgotten as the sun sank below the horizon. The two of you had cleaned up as best as you could when you remembered your parents would be home from work. It was a comical scene, but one you would remember fondly as you and Taeyong worked to scrub the stain from the front of his pants. He even met your parents that night, introducing himself like he was born to be brought home to a family. Years later, you could still remember that whole day with amusement and love, knowing you were still happily with that sheepish boy who made you laugh until your cried.

Second Chance - Part Three

(I can’t find a good gif…*sheepish grin*)

Holy crapoli. I’ve said it before and I’ll gladly say it again, y’all are amazing. The comments, the PMs, the reblogs and the likes…it’s mind-blowing that this story has gotten as much of a positive response as it has. Tank you for everything, and I hope you all enjoy chunk three! Again, lemme know if you’d like to be tagged in the next chapter!

Also, I love @sannvers because she literally sat on the floor and pretended to be an unconscious Gaston so I could figure out body movements and such. You’re a good sister. And editor.

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 5,794

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @hobbithorse19 @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can you please do a fic of elide and lorcan arguing infront of the entire court with everyone watching????? PLEASE?!

A misunderstanding leads to an argument and eventually a blushing/happy ending! 

A few silky strands of black starless night hair fell from Elide’s coiled bun as she briskly walked through the castle halls. Her gait uneven as her ankle twinged in pain, but she paid no attention to it. Just like she ignored the pounding steps that could be heard toward the castle’s entryway.

“Elide!” The walls shook at the deep sound of the male’s furious tone.

Her steps did not falter, but her heart did.

No. Do not feel guilty.

She stepped into the throne room hoping to use it as a shortcut to her guest room during her time Ornyth. A locked door wouldn’t stop him, but maybe he would reconsider and calm himself before approaching her.

“ELIDE!” Lorcan’s voice boomed. Much closer than Elide expected.

“What the hell is going?” Aelin drawled from her throne. Her calm demeanor made Elide walk faster toward her Queen. Rowan looked between Elide and the door she had just walked through.

Lysandra stood nearby with Aedion at her side. Both with varying looks of confusion until their nostrils flared. Lysandra’s eyes narrowed and glowed with the hint of her snow leopard form prowling underneath.

Rowan and Aedion eyes trained on something behind Elide. Their stances were rigid in anticipation at whatever storm had just entered the room.

Elide didn’t have to turn around to know who stood behind her. She could feel his dark presence wrapping around her body like a cloak.

“Elide,” Lorcan growled. His voice barely understandable.

“Not now Lorcan,” Elide said sharply. She was not about to have this conversation in front of Aelin’s Court.

“When? After you lock yourself in your room and refuse to see me?” Lorcan moved to stand in front of Elide. Blocking her path to the set of doors that would lead her to the guest rooms.

“Well at least that would give you plenty to take Essar back to your room then wouldn’t it?” Elide replied with a glare.

“Essar is here?” Rowan raised a brow at Aelin who shrugged one shoulder. They were expecting the fae female for some time now. Apparently Elide was never notified that Essar was a previous lover of Lorcan’s. Aelin almost pitied the male if it wasn’t for the fact that Elide’s statement made her question that pity.

“Essar and I are nothing,” Lorcan said. His long dark hair fell over his equally dark eyes. “There was never any love between us. Perhaps one-sided affection from her, but that quickly diminished.”

“Then explain to me exactly what I overheard in the market today,” Elide bit out. “In fact I’m sure other witnesses would wonder why my mate had agreed to meet some other woman in his room later!”

Aelin and the others blinked in surprise. Both that the Elide’s statement and her furious tone that would have brought lesser men quaking in their boots.

Except Lorcan was not just any man. He was a fae male hardened by centuries of gory battles. He simply narrowed his eyes at the shorter female fuming before him.

“Perhaps if you would listen then I can explain-”

“Oh this out to be good,” Lysandra murmured to Aedion.

Lorcan shot the female shifter a glare before returning his attention back to Elide. “I am not meeting Essar for…intimate relations.”

Elide rolled her eyes. “No need to act innocent with your words Lorcan. We both know your experience with woman,” she turned her head away to glare at the grey stonewalls covered in Terrasen banners. “I just thought you only devoted yourself to one woman at a time,” Elide finished despondently. Wondering if their bond as mates wasn’t a good enough reason for Lorcan. Or if Elide was lacking in some way.

Lorcan snarled. His canines showed clearly with his next words. “You’re right,” his words lashed out even though a part of his mind urged him to stop. Hellas reached to leash in Lorcan’s rage as he sensed Elide’s anger and self-doubt. But if Elide wanted brutal honesty then Lorcan would channel it with his words. “I’ve bedded too many women to count and only saw them for what they could offered inside a bedroom.”

“Then what’s stopping you now!” Elide choked back tears. “It’s not like you haven’t crushed my heart before so why stop now?”

Lorcan winced.  Elide bit her bottom lip. Wishing too late that she hadn’t brought up his betrayal that happened years ago on beach that still brought back horrid memories. Elide could still remember her tear’s falling to the sand as Aelin’s blood dripped down her back from whip lashings.

The throne room was silent. Aelin and the others stood watching what would happen next.

Lorcan went deathly still. His onyx eyes dulled in the memory that Elide dredged up from his past. A decision he made that he’s regretted each day since.

Elide watched Lorcan carefully. She saw the pain of his actions flicker in eyes like a glint of a blade. Opening a wound that hadn’t healed and probably never would.

Her hand clenched into a small fist. Shaking from her emotions that were suffocating her. A slight nudge, perhaps from Anneith or the bond she shared between Lorcan, made Elide slowly reach out. Her shaking fingers grazed his scarred dark hand intending to grasp it. To apologize for letting her anger and sadness get the better of her. By inflicting a barbed statement that cut him to the core.

Such a pathetic little girl. Vernon’s vile voice crept into her mind. You couldn’t save Kaltain nor could you stop your Queen from being whisked away by Maeve. And now your mate seeks the bed of another. You are worthless to them Elide-

“Don’t,” Lorcan’s command halted Elide’s thoughts with frightening severity. He had only said the words to seize the negative thoughts that plagued her mind. But Elide didn’t know that. She thought he didn’t want her touching him.

Her fingers fell from his. The loss of that brief warmth severed something inside Elide. She barely held back the hot tears threatening to stream down her face.

Lorcan wondered how this woman before him could utterly have him at her mercy in a single word. How those tears in her eyes could break him more than a hundred years worth of bloody battles.

He could feel her retreating. The bond confirming his suspicions as he felt a wall being drawn up between them. But he heard her thoughts clearly as if she had spoken them. Her bastard of an uncle tainting her mind with false whispers even though he had long since died by the hand of Lorcan’s merciless hatchet.

Elide’s breath hitched as she turned to leave him as tears finally fell.

“Don’t,” Lorcan repeated. His arm grabbed her elbow and he could tell the others in the room tensed.

She looked up at him with a harsh face with wet trails down her cheeks. “Take your hand off me.” The words were quiet, yet deafening in Lorcan’s ears.

He had always given her space when requested. Knew that there were boundaries not to be crossed. But this moment Lorcan broke that unspoken rule between them.

His mouth tightened as his hand gradually drifted down to take her hand – her fingers dwarfed in his.

“Do not think for one second,” Lorcan began. “That you are pathetic or worthless.”

Elide stilled. Her heartbeat fluttering rapidly in her chest like a hummingbird’s wings. She did not respond to Lorcan’s words.

Lorcan leaned down. His dark hair brushed against her as his forehead rested gently against hers.

“Elide Lochan, Lady of Perranth, you have faced monsters that even the strongest fae warriors would cower at,” Lorcan said. His breath mingling with Elide’s. “You’ve dedicated yourself to assisting your Queen and friends even at the risk of your own life countless of times. You were significant and vital to Terrasen’s growth after years of agony.”

Lorcan paused. Waiting until Elide looked up at him with tired eyes glimmering in hope. “You are invaluable. Precious. And I love you more than anything in this world or the next.”

Elide blinked. “But…Essar-”

“Is in the past like the other women who agreed for simple sex. Nothing more.” Lorcan said. “But Elide…you’re my salvation. A future I can only hope to prove each day that I’m worthy of you.”

“Then why is she coming to your room?” Elide’s free hand fisted into the fabric above her heart. Wishing to push back the pain that pounded with each beat 

“Because I have unfinished documents in my room that I need to give her, but someone,” Lorcan set a seething glare at Rowan. “Never signed his signature which is why Essar now has to come here since the signatures need to be conducted in a magically sealed room.”

“He is right,” Rowan interjected. “Since Lorcan and I are signing off on the treaties between Wendlyn cities and Terresan we figured it would be best to do so in an room without threat of intrusion or magic seeping in. We concluded that by using Lorcan’s room he could ward the room while Essar and I finished signing the last papers.”

“So Lorcan’s purpose in this treaty is for his magical shields?” Aedion pondered.

“We would have used the main room or even mine and Rowan’s room,” Aelin said. “But Lorcan balked at the idea saying that the room would probably smell of-”

“There is no need to say it!” Lorcan interrupted with a slight blush on his dark cheeks. “We know how often you and Rowan spend in that room. And we all know you are not just sleeping in there.”

 Aelin grinned with a teasing glint in her eye.

 “What’s wrong Lorcan. Surely you aren’t embarrassed to be in a room where Rowan and I spend hours fu-”

 “Aunt Aelin!” Evangeline bounded into the throne room with a stumbling maid trailing after her.

 “I’m sorry my Queen, but miss Evangeline insisted on seeing you and the others,” the maid gasped before Aelin dismissed her with a brief nod.

 Lorcan thanked the gods for Evangeline’s interruption. But the knowing look in Elide’s eyes made him sweat nervously.

 “So,” Elide whispered in his ear. “You hosted the treaty signings in your room because you didn’t want to be in a room where Aelin and Rowan had…intimate relations?” She added the last part with a wink.

 Lorcan groaned. “Can we please not bring this up again?”

 Elide laughed and the others in the room that heard her laugh knew that the misunderstanding between her and Lorcan had cleared up.

 “Perhaps, but only if you make it up to me,” Elide brushed a hand down Lorcan’s firm chest. His muscles twitched underneath her nimble fingers.

 “Elide,” Lorcan’s tone deepened. His eyes focused intently on the little smirk playing on Elide’s soft lips before she turned away and walked toward the others who were listening intently to what Evangeline was saying.

 Late that night, long after the citizens of Ornyth slumbered, two mates were still awake. Their limbs tangling in bed sheets. The female sighed as the male kissed her cheeks and moved down and further down until her sigh became his name gasped into the night. And it wouldn’t be the last. Her mate fully intended to spend most of the night seeing to the needs of the woman who he loved to fiercely and tenderly.

When morning light illuminated the sky. Lorcan and Elide lingered in bed. Perfectly content to pass the hours in the arms of each other with faint smiles on their lips.

anonymous asked:

i know you're super busy all the time but just in case - any tips for law firm networking events? or, alternatively, as i have both this week, on how to sell yourself at an interview? you seem to be a person who knows how to play the game. anyway! loads of luck with all your things!

Networking events are a) the worst, b) incredibly valuable in expanding your circle of personal and professional contacts. Most of my tips are spawned from me viciously hating them, and simultaneously knowing they are Important For Career Development.

  • First of all, if you’re waiting for the magic rom-com moment when you totally connect with someone and they hire you on the spot—it’s not going to happen. (I definitely had to kill that fantasy, several times.)
    • Instead, it’s best to think of networking as a meet cute—the goal is to make an impression, and for that person to know who you are when you follow up with them afterwards.
    • ….and you are going to follow up afterwards.
  • Start with people you know. There are a lot of networking events I’ve attended where there are classmates/professors in attendance. It is perfectly good manners to approach someone you know, greet them, and then introduce yourself to whoever they’re talking to.
    • I mean, obviously you can’t be an asshole about it, you don’t want to interrupt them, but I’ve definitely pulled this move with great success. 
    • “Hey, [FRIEND] I saw you and I just had to say hello. Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I’m [NAME], I’m in [FRIEND]’s Corporate Law class.”
    • It also works really nicely if you can slip a compliment in for friend, both because it’s classy and they feel obligated to reciprocate.
  • Go in with 2-3 general questions that require more than a brief answer. Some of my favorites are “What’s the most interesting or challenging project/issue you’ve worked on in the last 6 months?” “What brought you to [area of specialization]?”
    • These are good because they don’t require you knowing anything about the person, but can get them to open up about their work. I haven’t met a lawyer who doesn’t enjoy sharing their war stories.
  • Work the room. If you’re talking to a single person for more than 15 minutes, you’re probably spending too much time with them.
  • It is totally appropriate to ask for a business card! Ask for a business card! This helps for the next step which is…
  • Follow up within the next business week. As I said before, networking events are meet cutes. If you really want to develop this individual as a contact, you’re going to have to keep reaching out to them.
    • I’ve had the most success in finding and friending them on LinkedIn directly afterwards. (Literally, I go home and spend an hour finding everyone I talked to.) In my connection request, I thank them for the conversation and mention one specific thing they talked about.
    • Then, about a week later, I email them directly and ask to grab coffee/have an informational interview.
      • Attach your resume to the request, and send them a reminder email 24 hours before with your resume attached.
  • Keep up contact. These types of relationships aren’t a one-shot deal, you need to stay at the forefront of the minds. Like the articles they post on LinkedIn. Reach out and congratulate them on new jobs/awards.
    • Almost all attorneys publish pretty frequently through their firm website/blog. If they post something related to your interests, I suggest reaching out and saying so—a couple sentences wishing them well ought to do the trick.

If you’re reading through this and it sounds incredibly daunting, it is. But it is also one of those things that gets easier with practice. Be polite, relaxed, and professional, and chances are you’re already leagues ahead in the game.

3 times simon flirts with jace in serious situations + 1 time jace gives it a try

I.

“Sorry. I know it’s kind of messy.” Jace murmurs as he pushes the door to his room open and leads Simon inside. He normally doesn’t invite people inside his personal quarters, but if he has to see Simon covered in blood for another second he’s going to lose it.

Simon looks around with an arched brow. “Messy? Dude there’s like, two shirts on the ground and some empty water bottles. You should see my room, the floor is covered entirely by like eight feet of clothes.”

“I have seen your room.” Jace reminds him. “When you–”

It’s stupid that he can’t finish the sentence, but he can’t. The word “died” burns his throat and it just feels wrong to say for some reason, like when he was younger and he cursed to act tough around Alec even though guilt burned in his stomach.

Simon seems to pick up on his hesitance and, thankfully, doesn’t continue the conversation. Instead he points at the door to their left in question, and Jace nods.

“I’ll try not to use up your expensive shampoo and conditioner.” Simon promises as he heads into the bathroom.

Jace can’t muster up the strength to quip back. He lays back on his bed and stares up at the ceiling while the sound of the shower drowns out some of the noise from downstairs. He should probably be down there, but Magnus told him to take some time away from all the bodies and he’d quickly accepted that instruction. He feels like a sham, running away from the people he killed while the people most affected clean up his mess.

Jace just wants it to be over. He wants to be years away, or lives away. He wants to be reborn as a mundane whose problems don’t go beyond things like family drama and relationships. Boys his age are supposed to be in college, drinking and partying and flirting. Not killing people accidentally because their evil dad tricked them into touching a magical death sword.

The running water stops abruptly after ten minutes and Simon emerges again, now clean and free of blood. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and Jace realizes that he never gave the guy any clothes, so he rustles through his closet while Simon stands frozen near the door, probably wondering how he’s ended up naked in Jace’s room.

“Here.” Jace throws him grey sweatpants and a green shirt, which Simon appears puzzled over.

“Have you ever worn this?” He asks. “Have you ever worn any color at all?”

“I was saving that shirt for the event that you might need to wear my clothes. Black isn’t your color.” Jace responds and he’s supposed to be sulking, goddamn it, but he can’t help it. Teasing Simon is like blinking or breathing. An involuntary function.

Simon briefly enters the bathroom again to change and then pauses in front of the mirror that hangs over Jace’s dresser, staring at his own reflection solemnly.

Jace is about to make a joke about vampires and mirrors but Simon beats him with a quiet question.

“Is it ugly?”

Jace shakes his head immediately. “It’s badass. Really wicked. I’ll teach you how to use it to pick up girls.”

“Not really on my radar at the moment.” Simon dismisses. Jace watches him trace his finger over the long silver scar that stretches from one side of his neck to the other, which will probably be almost entirely invisible once he has enough time to recover and replenish his blood. According to Magnus.

“Did it hurt?” Jace asks, which is a stupid question. The smirk on Simon’s face is proof that it was a stupid question.

“When I fell from heaven?” Simon finishes, and Jace has to swallow the laugh that’s trying to surface. He knows it’s fucked up, because there’s so much death and misery downstairs. But upstairs it’s just him and Simon, who has the most amused grin on his face.

So everything’s okay upstairs.


II.


Alec is genuinely about to murder someone, and Jace doesn’t blame him.

“I swear, we’ll find who’s doing this.” He declares with the blaze of righteous justice in his hazel eyes. Magnus is looking up at him from where he’s seated with a mix of admiration and sympathy. He reaches up and tugs weakly at Alec’s shirt to get his attention.

“Whoever’s doing this hired a warlock. And the warlock is probably long gone.” Magnus explains. “You won’t be able to find which Shadowhunter is doing this out of everyone in the Institute. It’s the needle in the haystack, darling.”

“But it’s terrible.” Alec insists. “Putting a ward up that makes Downworlders sick when we’re on lockdown? You guys can’t even leave to feel better! I’m going to find them–”

“Alec.” Luke says, putting up a placating hand. “It’ll wear off in a few hours. Until then we’ll just wait it out, alright? No need to kill anyone.”

Knowing his brother, Jace is surprised that Alec manages to actually calm himself down. Maybe it’s the effect of seeing Magnus and Luke, two seemingly invincible people, weak and sick from the effects of the ward that’s currently enclosing the Institute.

“Okay.” Alec finally agrees, crouching down beside his boyfriend, who leans into him immediately. It’s unsettling seeing Magnus look so pale and exhausted, and the smudged make-up on his cheek is so out of place that Jace feels the urge to wipe it off for him. “I’ll take you to bed.”

As soon as Magnus nods, Alec scoops him up entirely and starts off in the direction of the elevator, his boyfriend carried bridal style against his chest. Clary helps Luke to her room and then it’s just Jace and Isabelle, who share a look with each other.

“I’ll be valiant and get Simon.” Jace offers. “Because I don’t want to owe you.”

“You bet your ass you don’t want to owe me.”

He finds Simon looking miserable and exhausted in the library. He’s sitting in one of the overstuffed, comfortable-looking but not actually comfortable armchairs. He looks the same way Magnus and Luke looked: tired and sick.

“Time for bed.” Jace announces, swiftly grabbing Simon by his shirt sleeve and hauling him into an upright position. Simon looks up at Jace as if he’s seeing someone from a parallel universe, his eyes wide and astonished.

“Huh?”

“Some asshole put a ward up. You’re feeling sick because of that, so are Magnus and Luke. There’s no point in suffering through it, might as well sleep it off.”

“But I don’t have a room here.”

Jace rolls his eyes. Does Simon think Jace came all the way down here just to tell him he has to sleep on the floor? “You’re lucky I live here, then.”

He drags Simon through the halls and into the elevator, where Simon slumps heavily into the wall and doesn’t even bother to make a snappy comment, which is further proof of how awful he feels. Jace guides him into his bedroom and peels back his blankets, watching Simon make himself comfortable.

“You’ve gotta stop inviting me up to your room.” Simon mumbles sleepily as Jace pulls his armchair up beside the bed and takes a seat, reaching for the book he’s halfway through. “What book is that?”

“The Song of Achilles.” Jace responds, showing Simon the cover. “I’ve read it before. I re-read the beginning, sometimes I skip the end. It’s too sad.”

“Then why do you keep reading it?” Simon asks, looking up at Jace with sleepy eyes. He looks kind of adorable, and Jace is glad that he took care of this rather than letting Isabelle do it.

“Because I guess…I guess I always think maybe it’ll be different this time. Like maybe he’ll save Patroclus. Just because he didn’t do it the first time doesn’t mean he can’t figure it out eventually.”

Simon sits up, supporting himself with his elbow. “Books don’t change.”

“Real life does.”

Simon stares at Jace for a few moments. He seems to be thinking it over, trying to figure out what Jace means. Jace doesn’t even know what he means, but it’s the only way he knows how to express the conundrum. The story of Achilles and Patroclus never stuck with Jace before, but recently he’s been thinking about it a lot.

He snaps out of his musings when he notices the light flush over Simon’s nose and cheeks. Jace leans forward to press a hand lightly to Simon’s forehead and he frowns.

“You’re hot.”

Simon’s smile is instantaneous and Jace immediately realizes his mistake, but it’s too late.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Oh my God. Go to sleep.”


III.


“Alright.” Isabelle runs her hands together and looks absolutely deadly. The shine in her eyes is like the reflection of light from a blade, beautiful but clearly lethal. Her wip is in her hands and her fingers carefully stroke it, delicate with the leather. “I’m taking Clary. Boys, you go everywhere below 14th street and we’ll meet up later.”

“I don’t understand why you get to choose pairs now that you and Clary are dating.” Alec complains, and it’s a little obvious to everyone that he’s more than a little jealous of Clary taking up his brother-sister bonding time.

“When Simon and Jace start dating, I’m sure they’ll do the same thing.” Clary offers in consolation. Jace looks over at Simon, who winks. Alec looks up at the sky, probably praying Magnus will make a sudden guest appearance.

They walk in the direction of their first target, Alec walking a few paces ahead while he chats on the phone with Magnus. It’s as if he’s taking a relaxed stroll through Central Park, not heading toward a demon infestation.

“So uh, what’s the plan?” Simon pipes up. “I know you guys don’t always do plans, but while we have this convenient extra time I figure it wouldn’t hurt. Not that I’m worried or anything, but you guys can still die so I’m just looking out for you–”

“Shush.” Alec says, but there’s no menace in his tone. He’s grown to like Simon, whether he’ll admit it or not. “Jace, make a plan.”

“Just wait for the right moment.” Jace says with a shrug. “And then attack. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Right, right, cool.” Simon nods. “But what if I don’t?”

“You will.”

Simon does not. It’s fascinating, actually, how oblivious he is to dangerous situations. Jace supposes he can’t blame Simon, because Simon hasn’t been learning this his whole life like Jace has. He’s been playing D&D, sure, but it doesn’t count.

So when there’s a demon advancing rapidly toward Jace and Simon, who has a great vantage point from the top of the fire escape he’d scrambled up to avoid getting bitten, fails to realize what he has to do, Jace is forced to yell out instruction.

“Simon!” He hollers to get attention. “Go down on it!”

Without hesitation, Simon jumps over the railing and lands squarely on the demon that’s now only held away from Jace by a few inches on his blade. There’s a few seconds of struggle before the gnashing teeth near Jace’s face disintegrate into black ash, and Simon looks up from where he’s crouched in the middle of it.

There’s ash in his hair, ichor on his clothes, and a bright smile on his face.

“Want me to go down on you next?”

Jace has to physically force himself to look away and jump into the next attack. Goddamn it.


+I


“Okay. Don’t panic. It’s fine.”

“I don’t think it’s fine. This is right out of The Walking Dead or some shit, Jace, oh my g–, do you think they can pry the door open?”

Jace hits the lock button on the driver’s side door, but nothing happens. Figures the car they chose to hide in during a demon horde passing was a lemon. It was just their luck.

“They can’t pry the doors open.” Jace announces. “They don’t know we’re in here. They can’t see us, so we’re not here.”

“Great. Great. This is just…”

“Great?” Jace finishes. He feels bad for Simon because he knows about his anxiety, about his panic attacks, about how both of those things are more likely to become a problem the longer the demons are outside the car. He looks around for something to distract Simon but comes up empty.

“Hey, I read a book I think you’d like.” Simon says abruptly. He sounds strange, like he’s reciting lines in a play. He’s forcing himself to calm down, Jace realizes. So he plays along and says his line.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“The Five People You Meet In Heaven.” Simon responds. “It’s sad, too, but it’s kinda about what you were saying the other day. About getting second chances and having different endings and stuff. It’s–it’s really good. You could have my copy.”

A thought forms in Jace’s head and his lips move before he can stop himself.

“You don’t have a copy from the library?”

Simon looks over, confused. “What? No. I wouldn’t lend it to you if it was from the library.”

“Well–well you should come to the library. With me. So that we–so that I could check you out.”

There’s a brief silence during which Jace considers opening the car door and letting the demons have him for dinner, but Simon’s sudden bursting laugh halts any and all thoughts.

“Dude.” Simon heaves between laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, Jace, that was so bad. Oh man, oh Jace. Oh no.”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“It was!” Simon wipes at his eyes again.

“Stop that! Your eyes aren’t even watering.”

“They are!” Simon snatches Jace’s hand and pulls it over to his face, forcing Jace to realize that okay, fine, his eyes are watering just a little. But they shouldn’t be, because it wasn’t that funny, and Jace slowly begins to realize that his hand is still resting on the side of Simon’s face and it’s not moving, and Simon isn’t making it move, and they’re staring at each other and leaning in and then,

“Oh.” Jace gasps after kissing for what had to be five minutes. “Wow.”

“Good thing you’re better at kissing than flirting.” Simon laughs, and Jace’s lips burn to be back where they just were.

“Hey. You’ve been flirting with me for weeks, but the very first time I flirt with you…” Jace presses a short kiss to Simon’s lips again. “This happens.”

“I just did it to shut you up.”

Princess

Peter Hale x Reader

(NOT MY GIF)

*requested

Imagine: You have a major crush on Peter Hale, but, because of the Pack, you have to keep it a secret. One day, when he comes to your house injured, you are not able to hide it any more and comes clean to him.

Word Count: 1560


Being ordinarily human in a town crowded with supernatural creatures could be pretty boring sometimes; especially when all of your friends saw you as a fragile thing who could get broken if exposed to a high amount of shit. It was stupid, though. You were not a doll or anything related, for God’s sake; plus, even though fighting was not your thing, you could help on other stuff, like cleaning and bandaging the injured. Your aunt Melissa had taught you a lot of medical stuff, making you perfect for this task. However, bone killer Scott shut you out entirely, pledging you were too young to be on this life.

“As if I cared!” You snorted, angry. “Fucking Scott. Fucking rules. Fuck! Fuck!”

You threw, bored, the remote control on the couch’s corner, giving up on finding a decent show to take your mind away from the horrible powerless feeling you were experiencing. People needed your help and you were stuck at home, not able to do nothing about it. Why did you let people manipulate you like that?

“This calls for some booze”, you thought, standing up and heading to the kitchen. Sure, drinking would never solve entirely your problems, it’s not like it’s magic, however, you would at least calm down. Otherwise, it was very likely that you would rip Scott’s throat with your bare hands.

While trying to reach the highest shelf to grab the tequila bottle, you could not help but giggle, suddenly imagining what the pack would do if they discovered your secret crush on Peter Hale. Poor tiny human Y/N falling for a monster. It was ironic.

Finally getting hold of the bottle, you took a sip straight from it, not bothering to get a glass. The liquid went down burning and you smiled, enjoying the sensation. It was damn good, as usual.

Taking short steps, you went back to the living room, ready to put on some music and swirl your hips to it. All of that was probably due the alcohol excess, you were never a strong drinker. Yet, whilst you set up the stereo, you heard odd noises. As if someone was walking clumsily through wood sticks, breaking them with its feet.

“Shit.” You muttered, approaching the window and slyly looking through a brief shaft. There was nothing there. “I’m going crazy. That’s it.”

As soon as you returned to the room, you heard it again. This time, though, the door was swung open and a bleeding light brown haired man leant against the doorframe. What the hell was Peter doing here, at your place? Has he lost his mind?

“Hey, princess.” His voice was weak and he coughed, blood staining your carpet. “Care to help me a little?”

Your thoughts were mingled and confusing, but you propped up and went to help him. You pushed the door closed behind you and dragged him to the couch, staring deeply at his eyes. He seemed so defenseless!

“What happened?”

“Kate is back in town.”

“Kate as in Allison’s aunt?” Your eyes were widened as you quizzed him worried. “Fuck, wasn’t she dead? How did she come back?”

“As it seems, she was not killed. She was turned.”

“Into a werewolf?”

“Not quite, princess. We still have to figure out that part.” You could notice him struggling to talk and it shattered your heart the mere sight of your beloved hurt.

You always had a thing for bad boys, that was true; however, when Peter tagged along, you knew he was different. Sassy, slightly bossy… Heck, a perfect match for you. Still, you had to keep it a secret from him and everybody else. No one was allowed to know about your feelings, because it would turn out to be a major problem, considering how overprotective your cousin could get. Argh! You hated it. All of it.

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure I am.” Your reply came out with a fake laugh and a awkward gulp. “I think I should be asking you the same thing.”

“Uh, I’ll be okay. I only a need a shower.” He smirked tenderly, reaching to touch your right cheek. “Your heart is beating like crazy.”

Yes, this you could not hide or disguise. Seeing him hurt and in pain made your heartbeat go crazy. More than it would normally get when you were around him.

“I’m just…” You licked your lips, fighting to keep it together. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Uh, I’m sorry.” Hale seemed disappointed, which made you bit your bottom lip. “You were the only person who came into my mind.”

“I’m flattered you considered me as an option.” A sarcastic remark slipped. “People tend to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“What?” Peter sat up straight, wincing in pain by doing so. “You’re so tough, princess. So resilient. I bet you would make a badass werewolf.”

“Damn, this is so good to hear.” A smile curved your lips, for you were genuinely satisfied. “Now, enough with this. You need to shower and I’m going to find you clothes.”

“All right.” Hale nodded and tried to get on his feet. You could nearly feel his ache to walk and, once more, made your poor pumping organ skip a few beats. “Where is the bathroom?”

“I’ll take you there.”

Right then you realised how hard this situation was going to be. You cared too much about him to keep your shit under control for that long. It was a true challenge for your sanity; one you hoped to win.


Twenty minutes later, you found yourself lying lazily on your bed, staring at the white ceiling and pulling carelessly the soft fabric of your denim shorts while waiting for him to come out.

You took a deep breath in order to relax; yet, before it made any effect, the door was opened and a shirtless dripping water Peter walked through it, looking refreshed. This tore apart any chance of relaxation. Matter of fact, it made you more tensed up than ever.

As you sat upright, your gaze locked on him and you licked your lips, nervous. Hale must have found it pleasing to watch, for he chuckled, delighted, leaning to grasp the bundle of clothes that were by your side.

“Do you like what you see, princess?”

“I would appreciate if you call me by my name.” You retorted, looking away. “Why don’t you get dressed already?”

“Does my nudity bother you?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Why would it?”

He traced your jaw with his long slim fingers, getting you to look at him. Once you finally gave up and rose your chin, meeting his eyesight with yours, you found them soaked with tenderness. His blue eyes engulfed you like a high strong wave.

“Confess.”

“Huh?”

“Confess.” The raspy voice requested, his thumb stroking leisurely your cheekbone. “Tell me you love me, because I can hear your heartbeat from miles away.”

“Please, don’t make me do this.” You did not break the eye connection, no matter how quivery your voice were. “I don’t want to say it.”

“But you do love me.” He knelt in front of you. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Why?”

“Why I find you beautiful? Because you are! So perfect and freaking gorgeous.”

“No.” You shook your head, giggling. “If you know how I feel, why do you want me to confess it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself by falling for a girl who wasn’t in love with me as well.” A sinking feeling hit your stomach as you slowly understood what he was saying. “Oh, fuck! Did I scare you?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“So kiss me, please.” Peter asked, smoothly. “Go on, princess.”

A smug smirk enlightened your face and then you crashed your lips onto his, tasting all at once. He grasped your waist and pulled you closer, whilst you tugged his hair, wanting to release all the tension built up. It was so much better than you had imagined! His tongue fought with yours for dominance, the whole kiss heating up the place.

“Easy, tiger.” You whispered, splaying your hands on his chest as Hale was inches away from popping your shorts open. “I didn’t think you were this excited to be with me.”

“Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were going to be my doom.” Peter pecked your lips and continued. “The worst was that I didn’t care at all. I wanted you to crush me with your love. I wanted you to break my walls.”

“Did I?”

“Damn hell you did.” Both of you chuckled. “What about me? Did I crack Mrs. Y/N Y/L/N?”

“You know you did.” Your voice was soft. “I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Peter Hale hid his face on your neck, smiling against it, half surprised half glad by your statement. He stayed quiet for awhile, just sucking on your skin and leaving love bites behind. When he finally reached your ear, he could not help but mutter the words you wanted to hear:

“I love you too, princess.”

Your heart warmed up upon hearing that and you sealed your lips once more, realising how deep were your feelings towards each other. You two were meant to be. Definitely a love written on the stars.


anonymous asked:

I need some mutual pining solangelo please? Thankss

Sure


“Hey, earth to Nico,” Jason waved his hand in front of Nico’s face, and when he didn’t answer the son of Jupiter frowned. Nico had been so lost in his own thoughts lately that Jason was getting worried he was going to get himself hurt because he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Something big must have caught his interest for Nico to be so out of it, he was normally so perceptive when it came to the world around him. It had to be something really special to pull his mind onto just one track.

Of course, it was something special. It was Nico’s massive crush on one Will Solace.

Nico was the worst love-sick puppy Jason had ever seen. Jason could physically feel Nico pinning over the son of Apollo, and that was saying something. Jason wasn’t always the most perceptive when it came to feelings. “Why don’t you just go talk to him?” Jason nudged Nico’s shoulder, who dropped his fork in surprise at being startled. “I know it’s a crazy idea, but just sitting here watching him creepily isn’t going to magically make him fall in love with you.”

Nico blushed a dark shade of red before turning back to the food on his plate, grumbling under his breath. “It’s not that simple. Besides, a bright son of Apollo like him would never even dream of being with a creepy son of Hades like me.” He picked up his fork, nibbling on his salad.

Jason felt himself grin and snort with Nico’s statement. He wasn’t so blind that he didn’t see the longing looks Will sent Nico’s way when he thought Nico wasn’t looking. Honestly, it surprised Jason that Nico hadn’t caught him staring before. “Ah, see, little cousin, that’s where you’d be wrong.”

He simply smiled when Nico stared at him in confusion.

-

“That’s why there’s a spear tip in my thigh,” Jason spoke rather lightly for someone who was bleeding from a mild stab wound in their leg. Will looked dumbfounded, glancing between the leg that was in front of him and Jason’s face, which showed no signs of hurt other then mild discomfort. Jason resisted the urge to chuckle. It most definitely wasn’t anywhere near the worst injury he’d ever gotten, but Will seemed to be having a hard time believing that.

“Can I get some bandages?” Will called over his shoulder as he gently removed the tip from Jason’s thigh. Jason grinned when Nico appeared behind Will, holding a roll of bandages that he offered to the son of Apollo. Will spun his chair around and Jason caught the blush that rose up his neck when his hand reached out instinctively and grabbed Nico’s. Jason grinned, but it soon fell off his face when both Nico and Will quickly dropped their hands as of they’d been burned, both blushing and looking anywhere but at each other.

Will sputtered out an apology before wrapping the bandage around Jason’s leg, but Jason could still clearly make out the heat in Will’s cheeks. He had it just as bad for Nico as Nico had for Will, how neither one of them could see it was completely beyond Jason. He wanted nothing more than to shout it at them, but he knew that would only make Nico crawl back into his shell and probably never talk to Will again. Honestly though, if those two still couldn’t tell that they were both into each other by now, Jason didn’t know what would make them realize it.

Maybe he would have to resort to Percy’s plan after all and try locking them in a closet together.


I was going to do this as half Nico’s POV and half Will’s, but Jason was more fun to write