#and i hate seeing people throw around words they don't know how to use correctly

[strangefable]

mkay, listen. as a bona fide expert on this, if you say your interpretation is "objectively" the truth, then... you are doing media literacy wrong.

no such thing no such thing no such thing

[pia-nor481]

Backpack

Oscar Piastri x reader SMUT

1.5K words

“Come on, you'll love it." Oscar exclaimed, looking back at her with a unusually wide smile, eagerness showing. "I don't know... It's a bit scary." That's not her way of rejecting, but more a desire for reassurance. "Love, listen, I'm a professional, but I'll go slow, just so you're comfortable." He practically whispered, hand resting on her arm. "It's still scary, I trust you, I promise. But so many people have a licence when they shouldn't." She was right, anytime Oscar was driving his car the only commentary would be his complaints. "Idiot in her fucking white Range," or "I didn't know Peugeots don't come with indicators anymore." but her personal favourite was "You and your fucking Renault." On the race track Oscar was usually sangfroid, but when his precious girlfriend in the car, it was easy to vex him. "I'll keep  you safe baby." She wanted to see him happy, and if this would, then she would be willing. "Okay, but you have to teach me." His hands covered her waist quickly, pulling her in tightly. 

What Oscar didn't tell her was how prepared he was for this, he'd already brought a helmet and some gloves, the only decent ones he could get were alpine, much to his distaste. They made way to the garage quickly, Oscar's hand tight on her waist, keeping her secure. "I will admit, its a nice bike." His excitement was clear, but her nerves continued. "So there are a few things you need to know, before we actually get on. It's mostly hand signals as I wont be able to hear your voice well while we are riding. When we turn corners you have to lean a little bit so we don't throw off the balance, so I'll tap you right leg if you to lean slightly, okay?" She nodded slowly, taking in his voice while trying to ease her nerves. "Because I'm the one driving I don't have to signal you as much, but I'll probably grab you, pull you closer...So I want you to tap my leg twice if you want me to slow down, That's the main one." She was looking between him and the bike every few words, hands becoming slightly shaky. "I want you to 'hit' me with your knuckles twice if you see either a BMW or a Range rover, hate those drivers." She giggled at his statement, voice dropping with annoyance. "Then if you see the police, or if you notice someone else do the signal, tap the top of my helmet twice. The bike is completely legal but sometimes the police are annoying, so wait for me to get off first okay." There was so much to take in but she was more than willing to learn for him. Oscar pointed to different parts of the bike, ensuring she was well informed. "Make sure you don't move your feet from here."

"Do you still want to do this?" He asked sweetly. One thing she loved about Oscar was how caring he was, he would always take her into consideration, until the last second. "Yes, I promise." A small smile adorned he face as she spoke. Oscar walked away slowly, to corner of the room. "Come here." He beckoned her over, she met him almost immediately. "Let's sort your hair first...It might actually be best to use a balaclava." He helped the best he could, despite his inexperience with hair in general. "When did you get this?" She asked, curious as to how long he's been planning on this. "A few weeks ago." He was sheepish in his answer, pink painting his face. "You're so cute." She giggled, slipping the gloves on, Oscar shook his head at the comment, deciding on when he should get her back for the statement. He pulled the helmet over her head and made sure it was secure, before turning around and dropping to his knees. She tilted her head slightly before realising he wanted her to climb onto his back. His hands were resting on her thighs as he walked back towards the bike. Oscar swung one leg over before sitting down, placing her behind him. She felt his hands trail down her legs, until he was confident she was positioned correctly. "Still sure?" He asked before pulling his helmet on. "Yes." She practically shouted. Oscar laughed at her enthusiasm, he of course could still hear, but it was better to make sure communication was as clear as possible. 

His hands left her thighs after a soft squeeze, he turned the keys and let the engine run for a while, letting her become accustom to the feeling of the bike. "Ready, Love?" He spoke looking back slightly, she nodded with a small yes and hugged Oscar's waist as tight as possible. 

Soon they made it to a quite road, Oscar was as calm and collected as ever, he could feel her loosening her grip slightly, still secure but she relaxed slightly. The feeling of being free enveloped her, she could see why so many people love riding; the breeze against her and the blur of objects in her peripheral vison. She was at ease. 

After a while, and the scare of filtering, they reached a red light. "You okay, Baby?" He asked, hands sliding up her thighs once again. "Yes." She shouted back, helmet resting against his back. A thought crossed her mind so she let her hands slide from his waist, down to his lower abs. She waited for Oscar to say something, perhaps tell her off, but no. Oscars hands squeezed the plush of her thighs once again. Soon her hands reached his quickly hardening cock, pressing down lightly and squeezing, excited to hear his voice. "Love?" Oscar gasped, words muffled by the helmet. Her hand ran up and down slowly, teasing the best she could with him fully clothed. Oscar looked up as he heard the sound of a horn and quickly realised the light was now green. His hands pulled her arms around his middle before he set off rather quick. 

Oscar enjoyed the feeling of her around him it was worrying that she was all he could think about at the moment. He shook his head slightly and focused on the roads, more specifically the road signs. The Australian was keen on finding a more secluded area. 

It took her a moment to acknowledge that he tapped her left thigh, but she slowly leaned with him and the bike as he turned into what looked like a forest. She could feel the bounce of the bike decrease slightly as Oscar slowed pulling to the edge of the road. Once fully stopped he aided her movements so both her feet were off the ground; one hand was around her waist for support and the other pulling her legs in the right direction. As she slipped the helmet and balaclava off she noticed Oscar was leaning against the side of the bike, helmet still on.  

"You can't even wait one hour to get you're hands on me, it's unreal," He laughed, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down slightly. "Come on then, since you're so desperate. One important fact about Oscar is how sweet he is, never once was he condescending, even now out in public taking his cock out just so his pretty girlfriend could suck him off. Her knees made contact with the ground swiftly. Her tongue ran up the underside of him, slow, before taking just the tip into her mouth. She sucked and kissed lightly, making sure to tease the slit. "Fuck Love, don't tease me, not now." he rushed out, hands making way to the top her her head, guiding her mouth to take him further. "That's it, so good to me." His excitement elevated as she began to suck harder, finally bobbing her head at a good pace. Once hand covered the base of his cock while the other gripped his thigh tight, needing the support. She desperately needed a breath and pulled away, letting her hands stroke him a few times, slow with a lose grip. "Ah, please Love." He groaned, head falling back slightly. She took his whole cock, tip reaching the back of her throat. She gagged around him but continued as she felt his cock twitch slightly. "Fuck Love, so close, please. She bobbed her head faster and almost immediately felt his cum running down her throat. 

"Fuck, you're too good to me." He said with haste, pulling her body up from the ground and against his, head falling to her shoulders. "I love you Oscar." She whispered, questioning if he can even hear her. "I love you Darling."

I hope everyone is okay and I’m sorry this took so long. This is 🏎️ from the poll that I did like 3 months ago. Plus I struggled with the actual writing since it’s been so long.

[konigsblog]

könig analysis, and mentions on him in relationships

i described könig's analysis in this post, and i want to add onto it with a description of how he'd be in a relationships.

mentions of smut (brief and not detailed), arguments and difficulty with self worth.

könig isn't a shy person, like i previously, he's more socially anxious and standoffish, making himself seem more confident in busy situations and cringing about it when he gets home because it feels unnatural. i don't think he'd hate outside dates, prefers something like a picnic or cooking for you, doesn't like the loud noises taking away the attention he gives you.

he also wants to be himself around you, to show you how loving he can be and not some fake personality he puts on to hide his vulnerability to being in loud situations, not that he's shy, but that he's uncomfortable about the glares he gets for his height, or the comments on his stature.

also, not that he hates his height - loves using it to his own advantage in the midst of a mission, but on leave, he's more uncomfortable the the looks he's given. being builied and tormented as a kid gave him insecurities, so people making comments on his appearance, even if it's with good intentions, may make him feel iffy, not good at taking compliments.

he's a very passionate lover, his love language being words of affirmation and physical touch, though he's worried that he may hurt you accidentally because he doesn't realise his strength if he's too distracted. he'd beat himself up if he hurt you badly, something in the back of his mind making guilt bloom in his chest, despite how you told him it was alright. if it's something minor, he'll be more careful with his touch, worried about holding you just incase

he's not submissive, he prefers being in control since in his line of work, being in control means well and means that he can do better, if he lets the enemy take control then he's vulnerable. people may disagree with this, but he doesn't whimper, he's a grunter. have you heard his voice lines? he growls and groans, they're dry, he pants as well.

doesn't really like you being insecure because he knows what it feels like. he's familiar with the feeling of not being happy with what you see in the mirror, or the person looking back at him. he never told his mother when something was bothering him, especially if it was insecurities because he was worried that she'd feel bad. and i also believe he either grew up poor and without a father, or with a workaholic father, still unsure.

he likes the intimate feeling of washing his significant other, rubbing the soap down your back and lathering shampoo to your scalp. enjoys when you pamper him because he usually doesn't take a lot of care of his skin, mainly hidden with a mask, or he feels as if he doesn't deserve anything nice - the reason being that he's viewed by a monster; mothers who hide their children, or the enemies he's murdered and left hundreds of families without a family member, or the way people stare at him as if he's abnormal.

könig does struggle with his self worth, but when you massage his back after a long, failed and unsuccessful mission, he can't help but feel grateful for your time. i also believe that since he struggles with his self worth, he blames himself for others struggles. a failed mission is his fault, the only way to take his anger out is yelling at recruits for their mistakes, throwing his insecurities in their face and making them feel worthless to release some rage and guilt he's built up.

probably has anger issues stemmed from his childhood, never accepted. he needs a punching bag and the only people he can take that out on without feeling too bad is the annoying recruits who are always in his office asking for help, thinks their useless because they can't do one thing correctly. and during arguments with you, he struggles to contain his anger, so he usually says stuff he doesn't mean, anything. it could range from offensive words about your appearance, to blaming you for his struggles, despite how you'd so desperately tried to help him.

it makes him sick when he realises what he's done, and will act cold because he doesn't believe that he's worth anything, distancing himself from you out of fear that you'd never forgive him, or even look at him in the eye. he watches as you curl yourself into a ball, and hide your face from him, quietening down once he realises what he's done. but, he doesn't immediately feel guilty because he's still in that mindset that he's correct, and like i said about him taking his anger out on others, he doesn't like taking the blame for anything he does wrong so it's hard for him to say that, yes, it was his fault.

i really hate when people make könig out to be as some little boy who's dumb and has no idea was he's doing, who's sensitive and cries a lot, or needs a teddy. it's not him, or his character. i don't mind when you have your own headcannons, but that's just not how he's portrayed. “and they said i couldn't be a sniper...” he knows he's good, and he knows how it's his inability to stay still mixed with his height that keep him from being his dream, not his skills. he doesn't think it's fair. he gains a lot of confidence during and after a mission, especially if it's successful, its the thrill that keeps him going for a couple hours and makes him more witty and cocky with his peers after. up until he's tired and upset about the amount of rookies in his office, screaming in their faces since he's exhausted and needs a coffee or something, a load of reports needed to be filled.

[ts-witchy-archive]

Hello! I've seen a bit of wiccan (?) things for a while, if I were to start I wouldn't even know how to start though. (my autistic ass does not leave the house and my mom would probably think it's weird to make strange concoctions of things) I also don't really know how deities work and how do you find out which one your communicating with? Tbh I've always felt like someone is around but whatever god it is seriously fucking hates me /hj Been better since I started medication but like the luck I have is 50/50 good bad and that is probably not normal. If you answer this it'd be very helpful.

Hi! Thanks for the ask!

I just want to start by defining a few terms for you :)

Wicca/Wiccan: A pagan religion that focuses on nature, magic and witchcraft. It was founded in the mid 20th century and Wiccans primarily worship 2 Gods which are personifications of nature.

Witch: Just a person who practices witchcraft. It's a non-gendered term and a non-religious term/practice. Not all witches are Wiccan but all Wiccans are witches. Witches can be absolutely anyone

Personally, I'm not Wiccan so I can't really tell you much about that but if there is one thing I know, it's witchcraft! There are many different places to start but I'm going to condense it down as much as humanly possible. It'll probably feel like a bit of information overload so just try to take it slow and relax. Enjoy the learning.

My favourite book for beginner witchcraft is 'Witchery: Embrace the Witch Within' by Juliet Diaz. She is a fantastic author and wonderful human. Everything about the basics of witchcraft you could need is in that book (imo). You should be able to find a pdf online if you can't get a physical copy.

As for youtube channels with solid content:

Harmony Nice: She covers everything Wicca. She has a playlist with all her Wiccan/witchy content witch is linked here

The Witch of Wonderlust: Olivia has been a favourite witchy youtuber of mine for a while. I wouldn't recommend jumping into her videos without any prior knowledge but once you have a grasp on the bare bones it should be okay. Here is a playlist she made with everything you could possibly need when beginning witchcraft. SOrt through the videos and see what peeks your interest.

The Hearth Witch: Another wonderful account if I remember correctly. Her videos used to be on the longer end (30-60mins) so if you have a short attention span then maybe not but she has a wealth of information.

I also recommend joining a few discord servers, following a few pages on tumblr just to get acquainted with the community and terminology.

Okay, on to the deity work situation. Deity work is generally considered more intermediate in the witchcraft community. key words being 'Deity WORK'. Worship is completely fair game. Setting up an altar, praying, leaving offerings, doing activities in devotion to the deity is absolutely something you can do relatively quickly.

As for IDing a deity, most people do it through 'divination' which is things like tarot, a pendulum, dice, bone throwing, and other ways. Most people also ask for signs that a specific deity is 'reaching out' to them or wants them to pay attention. You can also politely ask someone who is volunteering their time on tumblr or a discord server to find out for you via divination. If they don't say their doing free readings, obviously, don't ask.

Finally. luck is luck. It makes no sense for a literal God to hate a human. We all have periods of shitty luck and awesome luck! I wouldn't blame that on anything. Sometimes bad things just happen unfortunately. But sometimes amazing things also happen, even if it's just as small is finding 5 cents on the footpath.

That was so long. Congrats if you made it to the end because I nearly didn't when writing this. I hope this helped a bit. Feel free to reach out if you need a hand with anything. Thanks :)

[llycaons]

ep41 (1/2): unironic 3zun shippers are so fucking stupid

I've always liked these water-carriers. not too heavy or bulky, but also probably not for more than one or two people

he's almost unrecognizable here. I don't know what it is about him

stupid idiot taking a bite that's way too big and needing to chew on it and looking stupid. you're on camera. take smaller bites you fool. look at yourself

worth noting that whatever grace he lacks in biting and chewing bread he makes up for tenfold in the speed and grace with which he stood and bowed. absolutely seamless

yeah this sucks. jgy genuinely does face harassment and discrimination from trueborn cultivators who enact violent classism and entitlement upon him

he LITERALLY didn't. you pieces of shit!

I don't agree with all of nmj's choices, because I think his evaluation of wen qing is narrow-minded and inflexible, but it's clear why he has a reputation for justice, why sl and xxc wanted to deliver to to him, and why lxc is friends with him

his robe here is so nice

still one of the funniest parts of the story. bro he literally saw you. and immediately with the trembling and the wide eyes and the denial. oh he's so good

yeah the things he throws out in desperate bids not to be killed...man will say ANYTHING

nmj putting together the pieces to declare this first-degree murder. correctly! I've seen AUs where he's a lawyer and I'd definitely prefer that or a detective to a cop

hm, a lawyer who goes to leather bars after hours. and the gym. yeah, I've got it all mapped out

hey now. this isn't fair. it's not like he paid all those people to talk shit about him. he may have played up his vulnerability in order to appeal to nmj and get protection from him, but is that really that bad?

actually wait this is so funny. nmj is like 'why the FUCK did you murder all these guys what's your game' and jgy is like trembling eyes full of unshed tears on his knees 'I am just grateful that....I got to meet you' you are such a bullshitter answer the question bitch!

DON'T SAY THAT NIE LACKEY. HE OBVIOUSLY CAN MURDER YOU. HE JUST KILLED YOUR CO-WORKER

I mean he didn't have to be such a huge dick about it and torment nmj like that or actually kill anyone? did he? he couldn't have just knocked them out?

I do wonder how much of his behavior is related to his resentment of the nies given that he started planning the murder of nmj very soon after this for no other reason than 'he got mad I murdered his commander and then kicked me out' dude he gave you a top political spot and then spared your life after murder what did you WANT

oh I know there's a shot just like this with lwj and wwx

yeah. god damn, jgy you are so so good at lying to people and gaining their trust and then stabbing them in the back

LOVE THIS SHOT. entering a brotherhood not out of camaraderie but to protect someone else who can't see what you can. sincere 3zun shippers are so stupid. nmj is never going to trust jgy again after even one lapse, he's there because he loves lxc and he wants to keep an eye on jgy. lxc loves both nmj and jgy, and has full faith in both of them. he's right about nmj, but he's a little love-drunk around jgy imo and jgy actively manipulates him further. jgy meanwhile is trying to get close to nmj to kill him and to lxc to use HIM for protection. it's delicious. I've said before that I think jgy is lying to lead lxc on, but nmj clearly hates him and doesn't trust him and he;s trying to murder nmj in turn for like, nothing. so yeah this would never romantically. obviously. it just goes against their characters far too much

his flirting is so funny. nmj is NOT pleased

whenever he says these things he like, readies himself for it then delivers the words he wants to say. like taking a breath and diving in. it's not something that I would comment on usually because some people do talk like that, but knowing he's lying make it seem that much more of a performance

cleansing is so so pretty but the evil version is very noticeably off...and like deliberately so. it SOUNDS evil. nmj. dude. you didn't hear it?

god he is so invested in his event planning

he's right though

YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE THERE. DUDE.

the fact that he's crying? dude. come on

[wannabegwenstacy]

Bangtan in Bed: Park Jimin | NSFW

Park Jimin: The Power Bottom 👅

Rating: 18+

Contains: teasing, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, casual sex, praise kink, dirty talk, degrading praise, toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, soft bondage, temperature play, jewelry kink, possession, BDSM, body worship, oral fixation (kissing)

A/N: See last update for explanation

Series Masterlist

⇣Below cut⇣

Tease!

If his Vlives don't scream this then IDK what will.

If you ever watched one of his Vlives actually LIVE before translations, you understand.

He could be talking about how to correctly prepare a salad dressing and it would look like he was trying to eye-fucking the camera.

And even with translations sometimes out of context, it still has that same energy.

Some examples...

"Film yourself for me"

"My boyfriend hates you but I can't live without you. But I can live without my boyfriend." [Throws his head back giggling and cheekily smirks], "stop it. Your boyfriend will come to beat me (up)" [still smirking]

"Oppa, Focus" "oh.! ...focus ;)" "You are a daring girl"

..Anyways, I'm digressing.

You all know the Billboard Hot 100 #1 Summer Hit Butter? Bangtan's Hot Boy Summer Anthem? Mhmm?

Well, Butter from how I understand it is a Korean slang term for a "guy that gets around" the equivalent to a "fuck boy" in Korea.

As I said in Yoongi's section, Jimin wouldn't shy from casual sex.

Jimin just doesn't seem like he's in a big hurry in the romance department currently (mans could be married to 10 different people, a tree stump, and a head of romaine lettuce happily, who knows, don't come for me.) but that doesn't mean he isn't a romantic.

Or even would stray from the chance at a genuine love connection either. If he found that person, I don't see him putting up a fight against going steady.

Let's talk about Jimin's Praise Kink that he most certainly has.

Jimin loves praise! He gets flustered with the littlest of compliments he gets, but he definitely won't tell you to stop. He's not one to shy away from affection in the slightest. Physical or Verbal.

Which leads me to my point that I think Jimin's top three love languages are: Praise, Touch, and Gifts.

The thing about love languages is that they're not just how a person shows love but also how they like to receive it too. It goes both ways. So...

Jimin loves to be spoiled.

But, he would also not hesitate to spoil his lover in all those ways too. He wants them to feel special, cause in his eyes they are.

Vocal.

"Use your words, kitten"

Dirty Talk, Degrading Praises, Moans, Whines, Whimpers, Growling.

So. I know I said Hobi is the freak of Bangtan and Hobi still holds the crown! But Jimin is definitely a close second.

He's beautifully sinful.

Toys, edging, secretive teasing in public, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, face fucking, silk restraints, temperature play. Those are all his favorite past times.

Man loves his jewelry too so given the change...

fingering his partner with cold rings and warm hands. Seeing their arousal not only collecting on his delicate fingers but also the rings adorning those same fingers. Ugh.

Ice play is another. Him dragging ice down his partner's body, telling his kitten to lay still before placing a single cube of ice between his full lips leaning down and dragging it along their bottom lip.

Eyes flicking up to their's and bringing his thumb up parting their lips and placing the melting cube between their lips.

"Kiss me" is all he would say before pressing his lips to their own not missing a beat between his command and following through.

Swapping the melting cube back and forth. Tongues running across each others and the cold melting cube creating contrast between the warmth and the cold of each other's lips

He would take it suddenly back going from the corner of their mouth dragging it down and along their jaw, dropping it down at the curved point of their now slack jaw bone.

Going down their neck and across their chest around one nipple to the next, his eyes flicking back forth watching them intently, heated under his gaze, while leaving a melted trail down their torso and stomach watching it tighten before finally dropping down between their legs.

The now almost fully melted cubes final resting place as it melts the rest of the way letting the water drip out slowly.

Going back over the cold wet path he had set with his lips dragging his tongue back up nipping carefully here and there. His full lips working their body perfectly.

Resting one hand next to their head gripping the pillow underneath and their jaw delicately with his thumb and index finger with the other, running his thumb lightly along, giving one final peck on their lips then nibbling and sucking their bottom lip. Pulling away and resting his forehead against theirs, hooded eyes coming into view. Giving them a pleating look and praises.

Jimin definitely strikes me as the type to go hard then just keep going pushing into overstimulation, something he thrives off of getting out of his partner.

Multiple orgasms (if possible out of his partner). Never just one with him. I don’t feel like he would be satisfied unless they were cumming multiple times.

He would also be slightly possessive in the bedroom.

Meaning sometimes: angry rough sex & jealous sex.

After a fight

He would probably get a little upset if his partner got off without him or watched porn without telling him.

It would start with him coming home to hearing them moaning his name mixed with the sound of a vibrator. He wouldn't necessary get upset but more...possessive...

He would want to be there & know that they were thinking about him while pleasuring themselves.

He understands sometimes self-pleasure is a must but he would like to at least know first so he can send something to help or at least see-through pictures, videos, or even audio recordings.

Even if it may not be by his hands, he still gets off just the same knowing that he is the one that they wish was giving them that pleasure.

...Black Chelsea boots would start moving creating a crescendo of clicks against the tiled floor.

Making slow but controlled movements following the sound of heavy breathing and low vibrations.

Pushing open the door presenting a bare, flushed, now flustered body with a pink little vibrator nested in between their legs.

wide eyes and pleas falling from their lips not deterring jimin's movements.

hands or single hand dropping down into the shared dresser, pulling out 2 silk ties, and progressing forward to the bed hitting pause on the repeating audio.

Clicking up the vibrator setting to the highest level before back down the first. A dull sensation like an itch compared to the last.

"You shouldn't have down that sweetheart and you know it. have i been neglecting you so much?"

..They did. Who knows maybe they planned it...

from there their eyes would be covered, sat in between jimin's legs back pressed to his chest arms behind their back sandwiched between them both and tied at the wrists.

in this position he would make sure they knew that he can do so much better than any little vibrator but nonetheless still using the little pink thing to his advantage.

afterwards laying weak and tired out in his arms, would he leave kisses over every waking inch of their skin followed by little praises, remarks about his day and questions about theirs as he is cleaning them up, laying them down, and letting them rest for a bit.

To which they would sleep for a bit only to wake to dinner being cooked for them and a set of pajamas set out.

Kisses would commence, which I should mention is definitely a weakness of jimin's.

Kissing gets him quite worked up and I mean QUITE worked up. Don't kiss him unless you expect and plan for more to follow. Hot make-out sessions is his preferred way of foreplay btw. Just not that night lol considering the forementioned activities.

But back to jimin's possessive tendencies. He’s understanding that it’s not always possible for him to be there but he wants to be the one on their mind.

He wants to be present even when he may not be able to be physically.

Hearing their whimpers and high pitches inflections of his name falling from their lips in the heat of the moment. That's the best his name has ever sounded in his mind.

He would develop slight voyeur tendencies then. would love sitting back and watching them as foreplay. Mutual masturbation becoming a reoccurring thing.

Degrading Praise

"just like that, take me like the little slut you are" ”oh, you look so sinful like this. Fucking yourself on my cock." "You're doing so good, don't stop" "uh, I love you. Have I ever told you how gorgeous you look? So Tight, Wet, and Spread out just for me."

Fast and relentless.

The persistent thrust of his hips angling them going in and out repeatedly. Hitting deep and hard never stopping just slowing his movements slightly to give his lover a break in between before going back again and again until it's too painful for them both to persist.

He is a dancer. Dancers tend to have amazing endurance, stamina, and bodily control.

He's very flexible, that's not something that goes away especially in his career. If anything his partner would have trouble keeping up with him rather than the other way around.

Knowing all this about himself he probably would subscribe to the method of: they take partial to full control for foreplay on until they can't take anymore and they need him to take over.

They would start getting sloppier with their movements having trouble keeping a steady pace needing more but not being able to attain it by their own means that's when they would look pleadingly at him. Jimin struggling himself to hold back.

Knowing he needs to let them wear themselves out till they are begging for him. At that point, tired and needy, he would simply and teasingly ask "are you ready kitten?" And the power dynamic would flip in an instant like a switch going off.

He would let himself go.

Shifting his weight to give him the mobility he needs to get them both where they need to be before tuning into that ever so beautiful bodily control and flexibility he has.

Moving his hips in a way that most just simply can't.

PREVIOUS UPDATE: Hoseok!

NEXT UPDATE: Taehyung! - 281021

[bi-bard]

Chick Flick Moments - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Chick Flick Moments

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 2,363 words

Warning(s): violence, cussing, Sam embarrassing himself, spoilers for any movie/show listed in the author's note

Summary: (Season 11) Gabriel takes a break from hiding to teach (Y/n) and Sam to forgive each other.

Author's Note: I had so much fun putting this request together! Also, if I remember correctly, this reader wanted to remain anonymous.

Here are links to all the scenes that inspired parts of this imagine:

1 (Princess Bride), 2 (8x12 Criminal Minds; can't find just the scene to link), 3 (Moulin Rouge), 4 (The Notebook), 5 (The 10 Things I Hate About You), 6 (Gilmore Girls), 7 (La La Land)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

-----------------------------------

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the bunker.

Sam was still ranting about the most recent hunt. I was just tired of listening to it. Dean had long since given up trying to control his brother, who had shown no sign of listening to anyone.

"You can't just throw yourself into every single enemy," Sam yelled. "Fun fact, you're not Superman!"

"Oh my god," I finally, turning around. I had been halfway through the library at this point. Dean continued through the bunker, ignoring us. "I ran up to one extra vamp because you were about to get your throat ripped out! Yes, I put myself in danger but it was to save you!"

"Why are you so desperate to be a hero," he asked.

"Why are you so pissy that I saved you," I shouted back.

I let out a yell before turning and leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," I shouted from down the hall. "Maybe you'll be nicer in the morning! You're welcome for saving your ass!"

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut. I changed quickly, throwing my old clothes into the corner before curling up on my bed. My emotions got the better of me. I started crying into my pillow.

Imagine saving the man you secretly loved... and then he got mad at you about it.

I fell asleep crying that night.

--time skip--

I shot awake, cringing at how bright it was.

I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

I was on a hill. I was on a hill, lying in the grass with the sun shining on my face. This is not good.

I stood up and did a circle to look around the long stretches of grass. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

I decided that the best option would be to try to climb down and find a person... somewhere.

I was just about to start making my way down the hill when I felt a hand grab me.

Out of pure fear, I grabbed the person and pulled them from behind me. The person went flying down the hill.

"(Y/n)," I heard Sam's voice yell as he rolled down the hill.

I put my hand over my mouth. He soon stopped rolling and then he stood up, scrambling to pull the black mask off of his face. I sighed, dropping my hand when I saw he was alright.

"Sam," I called.

"Your instinct is to throw some down a hill," Sam asked.

"When a masked man tries to grab me, definitely," I replied. "Fun fact, Sam, I can actually defend myself."

He gave me a sarcastic smile. I shot it right back to him.

Sam looked down at his outfit before sighing and shrugging at me. He had just started to move back up the hill when my visions went dark.

I opened my eyes a few moments later.

What had been an open field was now a dark warehouse or factory. I saw Sam across from me, but also a group of people behind him. I recognized them. They were characters from Criminal Minds, a guilty pleasure I watched when we weren't hunting.

I tried to figure out what was happening.

Then, I became all too aware of the barrel of a gun pressing into my neck.

"No," Sam yelled.

It clicked.

Sam was supposed to be Spencer. I was Maeve. This was Zugzwang.

My heart dropped.

"Wait, please, don't," Sam yelled as the gun pressed harder on my neck.

"Sam, shut up," I snapped.

"Me for (Y/n)," he shouted.

"You would do that," Diane- the unsub of that episode- asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"No," I yelled. "Sam, shut up."

"You shut up," Diane growled at me.

"One difference between me and her...," I growled back.

I grabbed the gun, pushing it forward, away from my neck. The bullet she tried to fire hit the brick wall. I turned, bringing an elbow down on her arm. Her hand dropped the gun into my grasp. I pointed it toward her.

"...I'm not scared of a simple gun."

The others walked over and arrested her. I looked at Sam.

"If you continued, she would've killed herself, which would've killed me," I explained. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I watch this show when we aren't hunting."

He walks over, going to hug me before the scene changes again.

"Holy...," I trailed off as I looked around.

Around us, we could see the tops of roofs and a beautiful night sky. It was almost a dreamy setting.

"Where are we now," Sam asked.

"Only the great Moulin Rouge," Sam and I both twirled around to face... Gabriel. "I know, I know... I'm not dead, anyway!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to learn a lesson," he pointed at us.

"It's like back in 2010," I mumbled. "Play our roles to get out. Probably why we were pulled out of the last two."

"You'll fall into them naturally, I promise," Gabriel smirked. "And yes. Stop ignoring the plotline."

"Alright... sure, I was gonna get shot for your crappy game," I snapped sarcastically.

Then, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"So, what are the roles," Sam asked as I walked around the top of the elephant.

"Well, Christian and Satine," I pointed between us. "Maeve and Spencer. The Princess Bride and Westley. It's all romance."

"Why," Sam scrunched his face up.

"Because Gabe wants to get his rocks off," I said sarcastically, "I don't know, Sam!"

I walked down the stairs of the elephant. It was gorgeous here. It was just as vibrant as the movie made it look.

"Wow," I look back at Sam. "This is awesome."

I chuckled and nodded.

"What seen is it?"

"The Elephant Love Medley," I said. "Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman sing this mash-up of famous love songs as his character tries to convince her that there is nothing more important than love."

"I'm not gonna sing," Sam shook his head.

"I was not gonna ask you too," I chuckled. "I've heard you sing."

"Rude."

I just shrugged.

I looked around at the room, trying to figure out how to play these roles without the singing.

"Wait," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the stairs.

"What is it," Sam asked as we made it to the top.

"At the end of the medley, Christian and Satine are dancing and they walk out onto this field of clouds and are held up in the sky."

"What-"

"This whole movie feels like a fever dream the first time you watch it."

"Come on," Sam held a hand out to me.

"Can you dance?"

"Not well," he chuckled. "The role didn't say I needed to be good."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I tried to lead his steps and laughed as he stumbled into a pattern.

"Come on," I moved back so I could grab only one hand.

I led him a few steps forward and onto- what seemed to be- steps in the clouds. I let out an excited laugh when it worked. Sam looked at me and grinned at my excitement.

As soon as got to the top of the steps... it was gone.

We were in the middle of the street now.

"Aw, that was just mean," I mumbled. I glared at Sam when I heard him laughed.

He held his hands up jokingly before extending one toward me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"I know what movie this is," he shrugged. I motioned for him to continue explaining. He walked over, hand still held out to me, "The Notebook. Noah and Allie dance in the street. So... will you dance with me? Even without the sequence where we dance in the clouds."

I bit my lip as I smiled.

I took his hand and let him pull me into the street. I laughed as I stumbled into his chest.

We fell into the scene naturally.

Sam held one of my hands in his and held my waist with the other. I placed my free hand on his shoulder. I looked up at him. It felt strange that we so casually fell into the scene but I was happy.

Sam jokingly twirled me around before pulling me back to his chest. I closed my eyes and chuckled.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I just never saw you as such a romantic."

"Well, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam spun the two of us in a circle before going to dip me. I didn't think I'd ever get to experience something like this. It always just felt like something I should forget about as a hunter. I was starting to forget why I was so angry with Sam in the first place.

I barely noticed that Sam was leaning in before the scene around me changed.

I was on a football field.

I looked around.

There was no sign of Sam.

"Crap," I mumbled, trying to figure out where to look first.

Then, there was a voice going over the field's speakers.

"You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you..."

I looked around toward the stands to see Sam walking with a mic. Can't sing, my ass.

"You'd be like heaven to touch... I wanna hold you so much"

"Oh my god," I muttered.

"At long last love has arrived... And I thank God I'm alive... You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off of you."

I tried to bite back my laugh. He shrugged at me with an embarrassed smile and stepped into the actual stands.

We both jumped when the marching band started playing. I looked to see Gabriel smirking and leading their march.

Sam and I shrugged at each other. He continued on with the act.

Now, Sam Winchester pretending to be Patrick in "10 Things I Hate About You" was a treat... and was exactly what you imagined it would be.

He was almost stumbling down the steps as he continued on with the act. I was laughing hysterically by the time I saw the security guards starting to run in.

"Sam," I yelled, pointing behind him.

"Crap," I heard through the mic (which made me almost double-over in laughter) as he tried to take off running.

As soon as he was grabbed, the scene changed.

We both took a deep breath when we realized we were sitting together in a car.

"Thank god," Sam mumbled.

"That was a great performance, by the way," I said, still chuckling.

"Shut up," he muttered, laughing along with me. We fell silent after a minute. "So... what scene is this?"

"I have no idea," I replied.

"It's Gilmore Girls, dumbasses," we heard Gabriel's voice but saw no sign of him. "Season 1, Episode 16... absolute idiots."

"Didn't peg him for a Gilmore Girls fan," I said. Sam laughed.

"Me neither."

We fell silent again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking over at me. "You were right. You can defend yourself and you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

I grinned, "Thanks... I forgive you. I know you were just worried about me."

Sam smiled back.

"I... umm...," Sam looked down for a moment, clearing his throat and collecting his thoughts. "I just... I love you."

My heart leaped up into my throat. I blinked at him a few times and forced a chuckle out. Which was the wrong response but I panicked. Hunters... we could face the devil but emotions were a no-no.

"(Y/n)," Sam's smile dropped slowly when he realized I wasn't responding.

I was just about to respond when the scene changed again.

Sam was gone again and I was on a city street.

"Dammit," I muttered.

I ran down the street, turning the corner. I looked at the wall of the building I was by. Was this a jazz club?

I walked through the door and was guided to a table so I could sit down and watch the performance.

"La La Land," I said.

Sam and I watched this together. Dean had gone to bed. We weren't tired and just turned this movie on because it looked like it was mostly happy.

Big dance numbers, beautiful effects... and the epilogue that made me hide tears from Sam.

I looked at the stage. Sam was sitting there, wearing a suit, looking at the audience nervously. He hesitantly reached toward the piano. It was like it was a prerecorded track. It sounded just like the movie.

I smiled.

I just wanted to talk to him.

Soon the performance ended.

I stood up and started walking over, seeing Sam starting to walk out.

I grinned at him, "Sam-"

He cut me off by cupping the sides of my face and kissing me softly. I touched his sides lightly, smiling against his lips. It was... magic. Absolute magic.

Then, I shot awake, back in my bed in the bunker.

The game was over. Thank God.

"(Y/n)," I heard yell through the bunker hall.

I ran into the hall and ran toward his room.

We stopped as soon as we saw each other.

"Please tell me that wasn't a dream," I said. He shook his head, smiling widely at me.

I ran over, pulling him down to kiss him again. It was softer than our last kiss and I loved it. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. I buried my hands through his hair.

"Woah, what did I miss," we pulled away when we heard Dean.

I could basically feel Sam chuckle against my lips before he moved to look at his brother. I turned around in Sam's arm.

"A chick flick moment," Sam answered.

"Alright," Dean gave us a weird look before leaving without another word.

I looked back at Sam with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned and leaned in to kiss me softly again.

-----------------------------------

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[archerofthemists]

Phantom Pains

TW: Blood/severe injury/loss of limb/mentions of suicide

Sparring was a very common pastime at Evernight Castle. If they weren't out on an errand or mission given by Salem, then her followers may as well be keeping sharp in their skills. 

Watts preferred to work in his lab, designing weapons and other useful tools. 

Emerald and Mercury, being the youngest and seen only as Cinder's underlings usually only had one another to spar with. 

Althea, having only recently risen in the ranks, still trained with Tyrian, her former master and now partner. 

Hazel, with his size and strength, typically wouldn't fight against any of his "teammates". 

And then there were the Grimm. Salem kept various breeds of them penned up for the sole purpose of training, but only Hazel and Cinder ever liked to use them for practice. 

However, ever since Salem had promoted Althea to her inner circle, the archer had felt the need to prove she was worthy of keeping the position. She had killed plenty of Grimm in her life, she'd gone to Beacon Academy for the God's Sakes. Killing the Grimm in her village had given her a spot in the damn school to begin with, to give her a chance to become a real huntress. 

Although, ever since she'd fled the school and had been living on her own, isolated and answering to no one, she hadn't had as many opportunities to fight Grimm. She'd had to save her energy, because she never knew when she would eat next, so she just did her best to avoid the damn things completely. 

But now that she had a purpose in her life again, it was time to get her head back in the game. 

Tyrian kept her on her toes plenty when he was still her superior. Surprise attacks right and left, whether he leapt down from the rafters onto her or hid under her bed at night, the man had had her looking over her shoulder constantly. 

Hazel was a behemoth that Althea had to beg to get him to spar with her and she was pretty sure he was holding back when he finally would give in. 

Watts didn't really fight, at least not in a style that was compatible with Althea's, but when he needed to test out a new weapon she was happy to play guinea pig for him. 

Cinder saw herself as "above" the rest of them, being a Maiden and she didn't like sharing her "disciples". 

So Althea began using Grimm for practice. She realized how rusty she was against the creatures, but it was any skill; you never really forget it. She had forgotten just how good she was at it though. But damn it...she never knew when to quit.

Taking on two Beowolves was a little ballsy to do by yourself, but Althea wasn't exactly alone. Hazel and Tyrian had grown accustomed to watching her when she practiced killing Grimm, out of the way and behind the safety of the pillars that supported  a balcony.

Tyrian, because he enjoyed the show and he was a little proud of himself for finding such a treasure as Althea. 

Hazel, because God's, there wasn't anything else to do around the castle at the moment. And plus he couldn't deny, the woman had skill and watching her certainly wasn't boring. He glanced down at his scroll and frowned; her aura was getting far too low, and one Beowolf was still alive and kicking. 

"She needs to stop." He glanced at Tyrian who looked almost mesmerized by his former disciple. "Her aura is almost gone. One of us should step in and finish it."

Tyrian waved the larger man off, not taking his eyes off the archer as she easily dodged the Beowolf's large paw as it swiped at her. "If she can't handle it then she will ask us for our help. Don't insult her abilities, Hazel." 

But Hazel grumbled softly and reached for the dust crystals in his pockets. "You shouldn't overestimate her abilities either just because you've got a crush." 

Tyrian's eyes flashed purple for a moment and his tail twitched. He growled to himself as he watched Rainart stab a couple of crystals into his biceps. "You just hate seeing people enjoy themselves, don't you?" The faunus sighed. 

"No, just when it's you. You're not denying the crush either, I see." Hazel remarked. 

Tyrian locked the man with a seething glare that would have made the average person shrivel up inside, but Hazel just scoffed. "Good, cause no one would believe you if you did deny it." 

He turned and stabbed his arms with the lightning dust, wincing only slightly as it spread through veins. "Althea! You're done, I'm gonna help you!" 

"I've almost got this!" She yelled before firing an ice-dust tipped arrow into the Beowolf's back legs, freezing it in its place. With a running start she used the Beowolf's back as a springboard to leap high into the air above it. 

Her plan was to deliver the killing blow from above - a dagger right through the Grimms eye as she had spent her last arrow immobilizing it. She had just grabbed the hilt, began to twist in the air, when the Beowolf had reared up on its frozen back legs and its jaw came down on Althea, taking her right leg in its teeth before falling back down on all fours, slamming her against the floor with the full force of its body. Her aura broke in an emerald swirl and she went rolling across the chamber floor. 

Most of her that is.

The two huntsmen were frozen in shock for a moment, gold and hazel eyes locked on Althea's motionless and bloodied body. 

Hazel was the first to snap out of it, the gnashing of the Beowolfs teeth as it swallowed the limb it had just torn asunder. It had broken the ice around its back legs loose and was completely free as the giant of a man began to charge it head on. 

When Tyrian began moving towards his fallen partner he didn't even realize it. His legs felt numb and yet they were still carrying him over to her crumpled, discarded body. 

The blood was everywhere, splattered and smeared on the chamber floor in morbid patterns that the faunus usually found pleasure in. 

 

The next thing Tyrian realized, he was running down the halls of Evernight, the dead weight of Althea bleeding out in his arms didn't slow him down in the slightest. 

It didn't completely register in the scorpions brain that he was running to Watts's office until he was bursting through his door. It was just purely instinct. Automatic. Where else would he possibly ever go?

The Doctor was at his desk, bent over some new contraption he was working on like always. His head snapped up at the intrusion, annoyance written on his face until he fully registered the scene standing in his door.

Tyrian covered in blood, cradling Althea's pale form, showing no signs of life. Where her right leg had been, was nothing but a bloody stub. 

"Help." It was the only word that left Tyrian's trembling lips, raspy and desperate. 

"Get her on the table. NOW!" Watts was on his feet, stripping off his jacket and tie as he helped Tyrian carry Althea into the small adjoining room that had been converted into a meager OR. However Arthur hadn't dealt with such a serious trauma in a long time and he'd certainly had more equipment, more help. His mind was racing as he tried to mentally inventory what he had, what he could use to save Althea's life.

"What the fuck happened?" Arthur pulled on a pair of surgical gloves with a loud snap, his emerald eyes surveying the damage.

"She...she was fighting Beowolves and…"

"More than one?!"

"Her aura was low and we thought she could handle it…"

Arthur sighed harshly as he gathered gauze and began to try and stop the bleeding of Althea's remaining leg. "You promised you'd never scare me like this again!" 

Tyrian could do nothing but stand and watch, his whole body beginning to tremble as he watched. He couldn't hear Watts yelling at him over the ringing in his ears.

"Tyrian! Tyrain, God dammit I need an extra set of hands!" Watts felt guilty for a fleeting moment as he tossed the box of latex gloves at the faunus. They bounced off his bloody chest but it did the job in snapping him back to reality. 

It was bloody awful work getting Althea's leg to finally stop bleeding. Once Watts was satisfied with her vitals and felt she was stable, he moved her into the tiny recovery room. Hooked up to various machines that would start screaming if her pressure bottomed out. 

So he gently led Tyrain into the adjoining shower and turned the water on, waiting for it to warm up. They were both covered in Althea's blood and Watts was tempted to just throw his clothes away, burn them maybe. He had plenty of other clothes.

Watts automatically began to help Tyrain out of his stained jumpsuit and harness, and the faunus didn't resist in the least. His body was still gently trembling and Watts hoped that this incident wouldn't scar him too deeply. He didn't know what Salem might do if her best weapon was permanently damaged like this.

In the back of Arthur's mind, he was already planning the schematics of a replacement leg for Althea and oh Gods...someone was going to have to inform Salem about what happened. How would she plan to punish Althea for this? Because she surely would.

"One thing at a time…"

He unbraided Tyrian's hair, finding more sticky dried blood in it as well. Steam was beginning to spill out of the shower so he gently helped Tyrian under the water before Arthur got undressed himself and joined him, knowing that Tyrian was in no state to bathe himself. 

For a good long moment the only sound was the hissing of the shower and Tyrian's occasional sniffle as he pulled himself back together and Watts scrubbed the blood out of his long hair.

"What did you mean earlier?" He finally asked, so softly that Arthur had to take a moment to be sure he had heard him correctly. 

"About what?"

"When you said that she had promised to never scare you like this again, what the fuck did you mean?" Tyrian turned around to face Arthur.

The Doctor was quiet for a long while, staring into Tyrian's golden, begging eyes. There was never any easy or kind way of saying it.

"A few months ago, Althea tried to kill herself." 

He watched his words take time to register completely on Tyrian's face. A choked off whimpering sound escaped his throat. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"She asked me not to. She didn't know what Salem might do to her if she found out. And now this…" Arthur sighed. "Gods why did she take on two Beowolves at once?" 

" She tried to kill herself…" Tyrian murmurs gently and Arthur could tell that he was on the verge of losing it all over again. 

So Arthur pulled him close against his chest and let him.

Everything was fuzzy. Her head, her vision, even her body felt fuzzy and disconnected. And her leg...God's her leg….

"Don't move too much." Arthur's voice. Althea felt his hand gently stroke her forehead and she tried to make her eyes focus on his face.

"What...hap'n…" 

"You had an...accident." Arthur sighed "Although that word doesn't seem appropriate for what happened...because it wasn't an accident was it?"

"I...I had it…" Her throat felt raw, everything ached except...why couldn't she feel her right leg?

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING." Arthur hadn't yelled at her like that in a long time. Althea was ashamed to admit that she flinched a little. 

"Arthur…" Tyrian's voice.

"You lost your leg, Althea!" She may have heard a quiver in his voice that time. She wasn't totally sure.

"Guess that explains why I can't feel it." Althea couldn't remember a lot about the incident. She'd been twisting in the air one moment and the next she was waking up here. She vaguely remembered Tyrian rushing her through the castle.

"You were careless, reckless and for what? You promised you would never do something like this again." Arthur's voice was a little steadier now as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

"I promised I wouldn't hurt myself again." Althea hissed as she hoisted herself up in the bed a little more, her vision clearing enough to see how upset her partners were. 

"And so you've gone and replaced it with reckless endangerment of yourself!" Arthur looked like he hadn't been sleeping. How long had she been unconscious? 

"It wasn't like that." Althea wiped the sleepy gunk from her eyes as she got her bearings.

Tyrian was curled in a small chair by her bed, wrapped in a comforter. He looked just as tired and drained as Arthur. God's, what had she done?

"I should have stepped in sooner." Tyrian sighed. "Hazel, the sentimental giant, warned me. We knew her aura was low and…"

"You just didn't know when to stop." Arthur sighs. "Or you were hoping to get hurt."

"I wasn't trying to get hurt! Damn it!" Althea looked down at the bandaged stubb that had been her right leg and she swallowed the lump building in her throat.

"Don't worry, I'm already designing you a new one." Arthur sighs.

"Don't. I don't deserve it." 

"Well you bloody well can't work for Salem on one leg, can you? And if you can't can't for Salem she'll kill you." Arthur stood up. "Although that's probably exactly what you want."

Althea watched him leave and she rested back in the hospital bed, keeping her tears at bay.

"I'm sorry." She finally murmurs to Tyrain. "I really didn't mean to…"

"I should have stopped you." Tyrian crawled out of the easy chair and up alongside her in the bed. "When your body got slammed into the ground I…" 

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry I…" yeah keeping the tears at bay wasn't working very well. 

No, Salem had not been happy but she hadn't been nearly as angry as Watts had expected her to be.

Thankfully Hazel had been the one to tell her for the very first time, right after he'd finished off the Beowolf. Although, who the hell knew? She could act so calm and collected before the storm finally hit.

Watts had nearly had a heart attack one night when he'd gone in to bring Althea some dinner and Salem was right there, sitting at the foot of her bed and talking with her. It was an odd sight to say the least: a tall, ancient and immortal being just sitting there in the tiny recovery room. So out of place and somehow so horrifying. 

Apparently Salem had wanted to see how Althea was doing with her own eyes and it hadn't looked like she'd gone had hurt the injured woman in any way.  Perhaps Salem would see the loss of leg as enough punishment and leave it at that.

Tyrian hadn't left Althea's side once, getting her what she needed and Althea had started reading to him a lot to pass the time. Thankfully Salem hadn't sent him away on any missions. Arthur wasn't sure if the faunus would have been able to concentrate if she had.

Recovery was not going to be easy. Arthur had drawn the perfect schematics for a new leg and he had been coming and going from Evernight to trade for some of the parts he would need. 

Althea's phantom pains had started and were becoming almost unbearable. A mirror method had helped, but Arthur hoped that a new leg would do more good. Althea's balance on crutches was horrendous, and her ability to actually walk could be therapeutic in and of itself. 

Finally when he was satisfied with his work on the prosthetic, he showed it to her. Shiney and silver with green accents along the joints and toes and a small "W" engraved on the upper thigh. Watts always left his signature on what he created in one way or another. 

"The good doctor does such wonderful work doesn't he?" Tyrian mused as he looked the new limb over, his own shiney tail clicking behind him. 

Arthur smirked softly, he certainly didn't mind having his ego stroked. 

"I would have had this done sooner if you hadn't lost the leg above the joint." Watts sighs.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." Althea chuckles dryly. 

"There won't be a next time." Watts says firmly as he prepped the stubb of her leg. "Right?"

Althea smirked down at him and nodded gently. 

"Don't you dare ever scare us like this again. I mean it." 

[its-nebula]

Pain

Warning: Spoilers for DRV3, Angst, Violence

Hi my lovelies. Yes, I know I've been gone for a long time, and I've actually wanted to come back for a while, but everytime I tried to write I just got nothing but major major writer's block because that second semester of school was just not it at alllllllllll...

BUT THEN

I was rewatching the 4th trial of DRV3 today and every single time it makes me want to cry... and as I went to work this idea popped up in my head and literally the whole time I was just thinking of it so I knew it was a sign to make a comeback. This wasn't one of my requests, and I don't know how long or short this will be, so all of this writing will be from the heart.

So without further ado...

"Gonta.. idiot!"

The tears wouldn't stop falling down your face. The world around you seemed to spin in circles, and you weren't talking about the trial grounds. You felt as if you wanted to puke, as if you wanted to scream and throw something at that maniacal demon bear who was sitting on his throne-like chair... but all you could do was try not to cry. You had to be strong. You had to... for him. It couldn't be anybody else, no matter how hard you, or Shuichi, or anyone else in the room tried to make a different reality. For once, you hoped, and you prayed to whoever you believed in, that Monokuma would say that everyone guessed incorrectly-- even if it meant sacrificing yourself. In fact, you still voted for Kokichi, knowing full well who it was.

Some brotherly love, huh?

You could feel a physical pain in your chest as Monokuma announced that the majority had guessed correctly. It was like you could feel what was left of your heart fracturing into pieces, slowly sinking into your stomach. But why? Why would Gonta, the man who you grew to love, the one who kept you safe in this hellish killing game, the person who you were sure you would survive with-- why would he kill Miu Iruma, the self-proclaimed "gorgeous girl genius"? As you thought about it, there could only be one explanation.

"Kokichi Oma. What. Did. You. Do."

"Wow, the class trial is over and you people are still blam-" You cut him off by raising your voice.

"What. The hell. Did. You. Do."

"Y/N... please no yell at Kokichi... yell at Gonta."

"No, Gonta! No!" You could barely talk through your sobs as you turned around to face your boyfriend, though you could barely look him the eyes. Not only because he had killed a friend, but also for the fact that you knew in just a few minutes, he would be...

You couldn't even bring yourself to think of it, instead focusing all your anger and sadness on your brother.

You pointed a finger in his chest, and he gasped, never recalling seeing you like this.

"I'll ask you one more time. What the hell did you do? Why would you do this/ I know you had something to do with this whole thing. Answer me NOW-"

"I think I might have a solution!" Monokuma butted in your conversation. You watched as he built Gonta's Alter Ego, mesmerized. Apparently, it kept Gonta's memory from the virtual world. You and everyone else watched intently as the Alter Ego, as well as Kokichi, explained the story.

After that was over, you swallowed the lump in your throat. You knew there had to be a reason. All he wanted to do was help, and it all failed. Your poor, poor gentle giant of a boyfriend...

You hugged him tightly, sobbing as he held you close. He held onto you as well, barely able to make out any words.

"Gonta... Gonta love Y/N with all his heart..." he choked out, pulling you in tighter.

"I love you too Gonta... so, so, soooo much." The pain in your chest burned like a hundred suns.

Everyone went in for a group hug, and of course your brother decided to open his mouth once more.

"If you're gonna execute Gonta, you have to do it to me too! Please!"

That did it for you. All your sadness was very wuickly transformed into rage.

"Enough with your fake sadness bullshit, Kichi! I'be had enough! This is all your fault, you selfish little brat! I hate you, I never want to see your face again!" You breathing got heavy and your throat was sore as you screamed into his face, jabbing a finger in his tiny chest. He seemed unfazed by your words, until you uttered one last line.

"I hope you die next."

He stared blankly for a second, but his expression darkened. Not saying a word, he turned around and walked out of the courtroom, not even bothering to wipe the tears that clouded his vision.

"Is... Y/N going to be okay without Gonta?"

"I'll be strong for both of us." You mumbled, turning to face him one last time. The two of you compared hand sizes and smiled sadly at the other. You saw the chain wrap around Gonta's neck, and looked at Monokuma.

"Enough of the sappy mess! It's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

{Metanoia}

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader, Older brother! Jimin x Reader, Hoseok x reader

*8k- ongoing

Genre: Enemies to lovers, childhood friends, major misunderstandings

Warnings: Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral (male receiving) 

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he pushes you off the slide. Second time he calls you ugly. After that things continue spiraling downwards: he cuts your dolls’ heads off, tells everyone you’re a freak at school, spreads malicious rumors; Jungkook’s sole purpose in life is tormenting you. So why five years later is he insisting you two belong together?

Based on a prompt request  by @bangtaened-army​ turned fic. Sorry bangtaened-army for the wait, and the fact that I still haven’t touched the original requested prompt..

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  "I can't believe you would do this to me, Jiminie. After everything I have ever done for you. " you hiss into the phone. Your low voice does little not to garner the nosy looks of other people awaiting their luggage. Despite it being two am at an airport people never tired of drama, and you plotting the murder of your older brother could feed a whole TV show. See Jimin was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. Keywords supposed to. However, instead of being greeted by your annoying yet lovable sibling you were greeted by someone just plain annoying. 

    "You're being dramatic, (Y/N). I sent Jungkook to pick you up, not Ted Bundy." Jimin replies dryly. Even through the phone you can tell he is rolling his eyes at you. He never understood your hatred towards Jungkook. To him, the dark haired boy is a sweet innocent boy who could do no wrong but you know better. The devil lives inside Jungkook. 

   "I would've preferred the serial killer. At least he'd be less of an ass-" Jungkook grabs the phone from your hand purposely shifting away so you can't take it back. Not that it makes much difference. Even if he was facing you, you would have to jump to reach him.  "Hey man, it's me. Yeah, I know she's a pain but I'll bring her home. No don't worry about it I'm used to it by now. "

    You roll your eyes at this. "Used to it by now," once again everyone sees you as the problem, not Jungkook. Forget the fact he tortured you all throughout childhood. Or that he's the reason everyone bullied you throughout high school.  "Here, you going to behave now or throw another tantrum?" Jungkook asks, hanging back your phone. 

    Immediately you snatch it from his hands clutching it close to your chest. "Never take my phone out of my hand again. You hear me, Jeon?!"

   "Then stop acting like a child and we won't have a problem." Jungkook snarks, arms folded over his chest as he looked down upon you as a parent would. 

    "Fuck you, Jeon! I'll find my own way home." You snap spinning around on your heels. 

     However before you can even take a step, caveman Jungkook throws you over his shoulders. He smacks your ass undoubtedly grinning as he does so. "Alright princess, enough playing. I promised your family to drive you home safely and I'm going to do just that. "

     "You heathen! Let me down!" You pound against his back to no avail. He merely hits your butt again continuing to walk through the airport without a care. Seriously where did airport security go? Aren't they supposed to be on alert for kidnappers or something?

    Apparently not because Jungkook strolls straight past a guard twiddling his thumbs. "Seriously?! Way to keep Korea safe man. I'm being kidnapped before your eyes here, dumbass."

    The guard shoots Jungkook and you a questioning look, clearly unamused by you calling him ‘dumbass.’ Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, bowing apologetically towards the guard. His grip on you not slipping for even a second. "Sorry she's drunk. Please ignore her." 

    The guard nods. "Best get her out of here or  I'll have to detain her for drunken disorder."

     "Will do. Thanks." 

    "I am not drunk-" you start only Jungkook to hit you yet again hard. You yelp face turning red as the guard laughs. "I swear to God I will murder you. "

    "Do you want security to detain you? Because I'm pretty sure you'll be flagged as a flight hazard and stuck in Korea forever. " 

  Just the mere thought sends shivers down your spine. "No, thank you. "

"Didn't think so. " Jungkook replies. He carries you all the way to his car parked in the visitors' center. Not even letting you go as he climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. Undoubtedly he guessed-and correctly so- you'd run the second he let his guard down. Even when he sets you down to open his car door one hand remains firmly wrapped around your wrist.

     You sigh loudly. "Isn't this a little overkill? We're at your car now."

  "Sit." He merely says, pointing at the seat.

Tossing him a glare you do as told. Despite your previous bravado you know full well Jungkook is right, he is your only way home. Taxis are too expensive, and the rideshare apps went nowhere near your home. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Jungkook’s won this round. Still that doesn’t warrant the victorious grin on Jungkook’s face or the added salt of him reaching over to buckle your belt. "Overkill. Utter overkill. "

   "Got to keep the princess safe don't I?" he says sweetly.

    You cringe. "Enough with the princess stuff. You know I hate that. "

“You didn’t hate it when you were riding my dick last time you came home.” Jungkook mentions, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you. Heat rises to your cheeks at the memory of your last visit: Jungkook’s large hands gripping your waist as you fucked him in the backseat of his car.  His hot breath against your ear whispering dirty things that would make a porn star blush. That feeling of your toes curling as he hits the right spot-

    You shake the memory away. Fucking Jungkook was a mistake. It should’ve never happened. “That was a one time thing, Jeon. I was vulnerable last time. I just got out of a three year relationship-”

   “And you just happened to fall on my dick several times.” Jungkook snorts. His tone stays calm but you can see how his knuckles whitened gripping the steering wheel. “Look you can make all the excuses you want, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. We had sex. Good sex if I might add.”

   “Great sex.” You admit. “But that’s all.”

     As great as Jungkook and you were together, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap again. The dark haired boy bullied you for years. He made you cry countless times. Great sex didn’t change anything. Not when you know Jungkook would hurt you in the end.  Neither of you speak as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot. Whatever conversation you have ends like it always does in harsh words. So for the next hour and a half you stare out the window contemplating your life until your eyes close shut.

   It’s not until a door slams that you open them again. Half awake you can barely make out the familiar street lights of your neighborhood hanging above, or the equally memorable 

houses of it surrounding you. Your car door opens to reveal a haggard Jungkook. He leans over unbuckling you without a word. His soft lush hair tickles your skin as he struggles to get you free.  You reach out to comb your fingers through it. 

   “Are we here?” you mumble, entranced by the silky feel of his hair. “Do we need to get out?”

      Jungkook nods. “Yeah, we’re here. Go back to sleep princess. I got it.”

     You yawn barely comprehending as an arm slides underneath your knees. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

     Closing your eyes again you miss Jungkook’s soft whisper of, ‘I’m sure.’

-----

Sunlight hits your face chasing away your dreamless sleep. Your eyes open slowly, greeted by the harshness of lavender colored walls filled with high school photos and cringey boy band posters from way back in the day. Nothing about your bedroom has changed moving out all those years ago.  Everything stayed exactly the same from when you were a teenager. Dreadfully so unfortunately. 

    Groaning you stretch trying to remember how you got into bed. Last thing you remember is asking Jungkook if you were home as he unclipped your seatbelt, so you had to have gotten up.  You must’ve been so tired nothing really processed. A thirteen hour flight would do that to you after all.  “Look what the cat dragged in. I see you survived the car ride with Jungkook alright.” Jimin grins, standing in the doorway of your room. 

   You toss a pillow at him only to miss. “Barely. Seriously what were you thinking having him pick me up? You know how I feel about him.”

     Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was thinking I have work the next day, and that Jungkook is the only guy I trust to pick up my little sister. Because not only would he keep her safe, but he’s the type of guy to carry her inside when she’s passed out.”

    Your mouth dried. “What?”

“I said Jungkook carried your ungrateful ass inside.” 

    Suddenly the memory of Jungkook carrying you in comes to mind. His strong arms wrapped around you as your fingers buried themselves into his shirt. You were only half awake, but you remember everything from the way his cologne smelt to the soft beat of his heart lulling you back to sleep. ‘Sweet dreams princess.’

    “No way. He hates me-besides I’m wearing pajamas!” You protest.

Jimin sighs. “Yeah. That I may have punched him for doing, but (Y/N), Kook doesn’t hate you. Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.”

    “I don’t believe you.” How could you? The first day you ever met Jungkook he kicked you off the slide causing you to scrape your knees. Second time you two met he called you ugly before running off to play with Jimin. After that things got worse, from destroying your barbies, putting kick me signs on you, spreading rumors about you in high school, to telling your crush you were a slut. If those weren’t the actions of a boy who hates you, then you don’t know what is.

    Jimin murmurs something about  ‘misunderstandings’ under his breath, but doesn’t clarify. Instead he simply says. “Look, think what you want, but Jungkook spent the night yesterday since he was too tired to drive home. So be nice okay?”

   “Whatever.” you reply, not mentioning the fact he lives down the road. Just this once you’d behave. After all, he did carry you home.

   Jimin smiles, tossing the pillow back. Naturally it hits you right square in the face.  "Good girl. Now get dressed. The last thing I need to see is my best friend eyeing up my little sister. "

  You let out a silent curse, but do as told. Honestly it really didn't matter. When you lived at home you walked around in yoga pants while braless all the time, Jungkook be damned. This was your house and you refused to give up comfort because your brother's friend came over. It drove Jimin insane. To the point he'd throw random items until you either changed or returned to your room. However that was ages ago before Jungkook ever saw you naked or bent you over the counter of his kitchen.

   “Stop it.” You slap yourself. “Thinking about it will do you no good.”

    Unfortunately the pep talk does little to stop the wanting ache between your legs. Jungkook is the last person you slept with since breaking up with your ex. After you returned to America the last time you simply threw yourself into work, barely sparing a glance at the opposite gender. “Fuck. You need to get laid, (Y/N). Preferably not by Jeon this time.” you whispers.

----- 

   Breakfast is an interesting affair. Like always your parents and brother treat Jungkook as if he's part of the family, your mother piles food onto his plate while your father and Jimin discuss the latest sports and news trends with him. Occasionally one of your parents will praise Jungkook on something he did, mentioning how proud they are of him to which Jungkook eats up like a starving man at a feast. 

     Meanwhile you play around with your rice ignoring the sour feeling of getting ignored by your own family. After all, it's not like you lived out of the country and only came home once in a blue moon. So what did it matter if your childhood enemy ate up all your attention? "Thank you again, Jungkook, for bringing (Y/N) home. I know how much of a pain she can be to you. " your mother says. 

   Jungkook grins, the sun practically illuminating him from behind as he tactfully shrugs off the gratitude with a, 'It's no problem, Mom.' His butter wouldn't melt in my mouth routine sickens you to the point you want to vomit. 

     "I would've been perfectly fine finding my own ride home. " You mumble indignantly. 

   The comment earns you a sharp whack on the head by your mother's slipper. "The words are, 'thank you, Jungkook. ' I swear I don't know how I raised such an ungrateful daughter. "

     You roll your eyes, swallowing the comment about her shitty parenting skills. "I mean how are you ever going to find a husband with that bad attitude of yours?" She laments, projecting into her usual rant of marriage and grandchildren. 

    Like always you ignore it taking the few blows to the head she gave whenever ranting about your marital future. Besides you, Jimin snickers enjoying your torment, having been born a boy he's safe from your mother's wrath since 'no girl is good enough for my precious Jimmie.' Thankfully your father has an ounce of sympathy left for you. "She's doing fine, hunny. (Y/N) has a good home and a steady job-"

    "You're too soft on her! That's why she's like this. " your mother dismisses. "I mean what man would fall for a woman with such an ugly personality?"

   Your heart gives a painful squeeze at her words, while such speech is common with your mother that doesn't make it hurt any less.  "Actually I know someone who'd be interested in going out with (Y/N)." Jungkook pipes up, a big grin stretching across his face. 

   You shoot him a warning glare to which he shrugs off. A surprise gasp- that is way too exaggerated in your opinion- escapes your mom, she looks at Jungkook as if he hung the moon. "Oh Jungkook, that would be wonderful. But we ask you to risk your friendship like that."

    "I promise you're not. This guy has loved- liked (Y/N) for a long time. He knows what she's like. " Jungkook waves off. 

   "Really? Who?" your dad asks, causing you to frown. Why does everyone think you are so unlovable? Seriously you are starting to get insulted, although you also question Jungkook and his 'friend. '

  Jimin snorts, giving Jungkook a weird look. "Yes Jungkook, who is this mysterious guy madly in love with my sister?"

   The tips of Jungkook's ears turn red and he ducks his head sheepishly, probably not expecting Jimin to call him out on his bluff.  "What does it matter? A man is interested in our (Y/N)! All my prayers are answered!" Your mom cries, saving Jungkook from whatever bullshit he is about to spout. "Oh Jungkook, you're so wonderful. Any mother would be lucky to have you."

    "Hey!" Jimin protests, earning a string of reassurances and praises from your mother. For a man who prided himself on his cool nature,  Jimin was a mama's boy.

   "I'm going to get started on the dishes. " you sigh, collecting the empty plates. As much as you love your family there's only so much one can take of them, hence moving to America. 

  "I'll help." Jungkook says, quickly gathering the dishes from your hand. Without another word he disappears into the kitchen like a little boy eager to impress his mom or in this case your mom; it  adds to your rising irritation. You don't know what his game is, but if Jungkook thinks he can pull a fast one on you, he'll be sorely surprised.

    You enter the kitchen to find Jungkook already washing the dishes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up displaying his smooth muscular arms. Your eyes roam over them taking in the tattoos littered on his tan skin; he had gotten more since you last saw him, practically a full sleeve now. They look good on him not that you would ever admit it. "Hey, I wash, you dry?" Jungkook offers, throwing a towel your way. 

    You frown. "I got it. Go back to the table."

    Jungkook scoffs. "Seriously? You would rather do dishes- which you hate doing- then spend five minutes with me?"

   "Oh don't try to guilt trip me,  Jeon. That whole 'I know someone who likes (Y/N),' what utter bullshit. " you snap. "Tell me, were you going to laugh when I arrived at some restaurant only and no one comes?"

    Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You really need to see someone about this paranoia issue of yours, because this is beginning to get ridiculous.”

    “Excuse me? Paranoid? You bullied me all my life-"

  "I pushed down the slide when we were four. Get over it."

   "You cut off my barbies' head! Repeatedly called me ugly. Spread rumors about me in high school, and to top the cherry off you told Hoseok,  I was a slut. So no I won't get over it." You stomp your foot. 

   Jungkook clenches his jaw, the cup in his hand practically cracking under his grip. He says nothing, dropping the cup and sponge into the sink, before storming out like a madman.From the living room your parents call out Jungkook's name only for him to ignore them. The front door slams shut shaking the house so hard that the dishes tremble in their drying rack.

 "What happened to being nice to Jungkook?" Jimin's voice surprises you from behind. Disappointment is written all over his face, and the way his body positions itself (arms crossed, legs parted) tells you, you're in for a lecture. 

   You turn away not in the mood to be parented by someone two years your senior. Especially not when he allots Jungkook to bully you without a single reprimand. "He started it. Telling mom he'd set me up with some imaginary guy only to laugh when I get 'stood up."

     Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "You two are killing me. Look I can't spell it out for you, that is Jungkook's business, so I am just going to say this...I destroyed your barbies not Jungkook. "

   You froze. "What?"

 "I cut off Minnie's, Hana's and Lany's heads. You pissed me off by eating my snack. I wanted revenge." Jimin shrugged. 

   "B-but I caught Jungkook red handed! I saw him with Minnie's head!" 

   A sheepish look grew on his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, a habit he did whenever nervous. "Yeah, he was trying to fix her. "

   The dish in your hands drops shattering against the kitchen floor. Your mouth opens but no words come out; funny seeing how thousands of thoughts run through your head. "You asshole!" 

     Jimin winces. "Sorry. It was a dick move- but my point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

------

       You spend the next few days wandering around town bored. While you feel grateful to be home and see everyone you love, the list of things to do in your town is actually quite small compared to home ( perks of living in a small town). Outside of grocery shopping with your mom, reading on the veranda with your father, and bugging Jimin whenever possible, there’s not much to do. Things are especially boring since Jungkook disappeared after that morning. The bunny looking boy normally makes it his personal mission to bother you as much as possible. Disregarding the few hours he has to work, Jungkook always was there first thing in the morning to laugh at your ridiculous bed head. Yet for the last few days he’s been nowhere in sight.  When asked about it Jimin merely shrugged saying he was busy, before smirking and stating unnecessarily, “If you miss him that much, why don’t you call him yourself?” 

       It isn’t that you miss Jungkook, despite what Jimin said about your Barbie dolls, you still believe deep down he hates you. After all just because you were wrong about one thing didn’t mean you were wrong about everything else.  No, you asked Jimin, because it’s unusual given that the boy practically lived at your home. It’s not like you actually miss his stupid face over something. Perhaps if you had more friends this boredom wouldn’t be an issue. Sadly you weren’t much of a social butterfly back in high school; unlike Jimin who was part of the “popular” crowd, you were an outcast. As much as you tried, the only people who would hangout with you were Jimin’s friends.

     At first you thought it was something you did, but later you found out Jungkook told everyone you were a ‘freak of nature,’ and it was only because he and the others felt bad that they hung around you. Hearing what he said devastated you. It was the first time you realized how much Jungkook hated you. Moreover his words stopped you from ever really trusting anyone who wanted to be friends.

 “Isn’t it possible you are wrong about everything else?”  

Pushing the thought back you try to ignore the nagging feeling growing inside birthed by your brother’s words.  You fucking doubt it. How could something like that be so easily explained away? “I think this is your fifth lap around town.” a familiar voice calls out, snapping you back to reality. “People are beginning to think you’re a weirdo.”

       You don’t even have to look up to tell who it is. On this planet only one person owns a voice so annoying it instantaneously grates on your nerves. “Get lost, Jeon. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He snorts, continuing to follow you in his car. “You know it’s supposed to storm today right? You should head home before it pours.”

“Like I said: No One Asked You, Jeon.” you reply, promptly turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction.  He’s the last person you want to see given your current thoughts. Whatever longing you might’ve previously had for him disappeared the moment you remembered why Jungkook was your enemy. Thankfully he doesn’t follow most likely finding something more interesting to waste his time on.

You continue walking onwards too infuriated by the past to notice the dark clouds starting to form above. It’s not until something wet hits your skin that you take notice of the sudden drop in temperature and gathering winds. “Fuck.” you hiss feeling another raindrop.

Of course Jungkook would be right. The universe just fucking loved him like everyone else did. You get stuck with the short end though: running in the rain searching for shelter, only for you to naturally find yourself in the part of town  empty of all businesses. “Perhaps I can stand under a tree until it calms down.” 

 Lightning flashes across the sky followed by a loud BOOM of thunder making you jump. A small sob escapes your lips as you subconsciously curl yourself into a ball. Thunder always scares you no matter how old you get. “I’m not here. I’m not here.” you whisper, rocking on balls of your feet.

 However the deafening sounds of thunder destroys any hopes of pretending to be elsewhere. So you curl tighter into a ball praying for it all to stop. Overwhelmed with fear you don’t process the feel of someone’s jacket draping over you or the angry voice of Jungkook saying, “I told you to go home.”

It’s not until he yet again scoops you into his arms that you snap from your trance. You watch shocked as he carries you to the car. Through the rain and lightning he looks nothing like the boy you remember. Instead...he looks like a man you could very well fall in love with. 

  “Jung...Jungkook” You mumble, gripping his shirt as he sets you down into the passenger seat. He looks up at you in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Neither of you can remember the last time you called him by his first name. It’s always been Jeon never Jungkook. “Thank you....”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook replies, shutting the car door. He walks over to the driver’s side sliding easily into it.

 Now clear from the rain you can make out how drench he really is: hair soaked, clothes sticking to his skin, it makes you all too aware of the jacket covering you. Reluctantly you shrug it from your shoulders missing the comforting weight of it almost immediately. “Here. This is yours. You should wear it.”

Jungkook glares. “Keep it.

“No. It’s yours. You must be freezing without it-” 

   “I said keep it! God damn it, (Y/N). Why can’t you listen for once?” he snaps, hitting the steering wheel. You recoil taken back by his outburst. Never have you seen Jungkook so angry. At most Jungkook stormed off or glared whenever mad at you, never did he raise his voice at you. "I told you to go home. I told you it was going to storm but you didn’t listen."

    "I'm sorry…" 

     "You don't get it. You could've gotten sick if I didn't find you in time. Or worse you could have gotten hurt…"

   "Oh."  You reply, unsure what to say. Worrying about you wasn't something you expected from Jungkook, but it strikes a painful chord within you. Your heart should be warmed by the thought instead a painful sinking feeling fills it. Suddenly you want nothing more than to burst into tears. “You were worried?”

   Jungkook lets out a long tired sigh. "Of course I was worried. You’ve been terrified of thunder storms since we were five, why wouldn’t I worry about you being out in one?”

       ‘Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.’ Jimin’s words ring in your ears. ‘My point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?’

   Could Jimin be right? Is everything you thought  one big misunderstanding? You were so sure of Jungkook’s guilt previously, but now...you couldn’t picture him as the sinister bully you’ve known all your life.  “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened and turned around.” you admit, “I’m so used to chalkin everything you say off as meaningless teasing, I didn’t consider you actually meant well.”

    “You never do.” Jungkook huffs. For a second you swear you can see pain fill his dark bambi eyes as he looks at you. It is an expression you’ve never seen on his face before, a look of hurt and dejection. Again your heart twists painfully in your chest. “You always assume I’m out to get you, when really I’m just trying to be nice. I mean sure I tease and joke around with you, but (Y/N), I would never purposefully hurt you. I know you don’t believe me-”

   “Okay. I believe you.” 

Jungkook’s foot slips hitting the break. The car lurches forward causing you both to nearly hit your heads on the dashboard. His head snaps in your direction so fast it practically gives you whiplash. “What? What did you say?”

 Around you, cars honk aggravated by the standstill in the middle of traffic; you don’t care though. All you care about right now is the look of disbelief, shock, and hope marring Jungkook’s beautiful face. In that moment you realize how little you care about the truth. It’s unexplainable the sudden urge to move on from your prior hate, but you want to...you want to believe Jungkook is a good guy. “I believe you, Jungkook.” you swallow hard. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. So please forgive me.”

   You don’t know what you expected Jungkook’s reaction to be, however it certainly wasn’t this. “I’ll think about it.”

  If not for the sudden smirk pulling at his lips, you would’ve felt horrible. Instead you feel infuriated. “You asshole. I take it back. I’m not sorry. You hear me?! Not sorry!”

  Jungkook merely laughs, shaking his head. “No backsies remember, (Y/N)? You can’t take it back.”

  You glower remembering the childish rule Jimin, Jungkook and you made up in elementary school. It was to keep each other from ducking out of any dares or promises made, and apparently apologies now. “I hate you.”

         Jungkook laughs harder. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go home, huh? I’ll make you hot chocolate if you behave.”

“I always behave.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. A second passes. “There better be whipped cream and marshmallows with that.”

     “Anything you want princess. Anything you want.” 

----------------------------------------------

You wonder if it’s creepy to find Jungkook so attractive while wearing your brother’s clothings. On Jimin, this grey sweatpants and hoodie combo makes him look like a homeless man, but on Jungkook, it has your mouth practically watering. The normally baggy material conforms perfectly to his body hiding nothing to the imagination. You see every curve, groove, muscle and bone (especially a certain large one in the middle of his sweats) in this boy’s body, and then to make things even worse you catch a sliver of tan skin anytime Jungkook raises his arms. Beautiful tan skin whose tantalizing taste and feel plagues your mind. 

    Suddenly you regret not putting up a fight about Jungkook coming over. Sure he was soaking wet from giving you his jacket, however Jungkook also lived down the street from you-he didn’t have to change into Jimin’s clothes. “Do you know if the dryer’s free?” Jungkook asks, lifting up said bundle of drenched clothes.

    “Ummm, yeah I believe so. You want me to put them up for you?” you offer, trying not to stare. Although things are technically supposed to be cool between you guys now, they’re not. Years of mistrust and hatred don’t simply vanish after an apology or sudden decision to forgive, instead the emotions built between you two need to be sorted through and really only time could do that. Which is why you try super hard not to let lust takeover and destroy the fragile truce recently made.

  Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can manage."

You nod not knowing what else to say. Again his lips twist in that disgusting smirk you so despise, this time paired with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough for your ogling pleasure.”

 Quickly you look away, “Who’s ogling who, Jeon? Cause it’s certainly not me.”

   “Oh really?” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow. He steps forward caging you against the wall. Something dangerous gleams within those large eyes of his as Jungkook stares down at you with a ravenous look.  Shivers run down your spine sending a delicious shock through your body. “That’s too bad, because I was definitely ogling you, princess. Seeing you wear this oversized shirt gives me sooo many ideas.”

    You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Stop joking around. You and I know there’s nothing sexy about this shirt.”

    “I disagree. Believe it or not, I find girls sexiest when they’re comfortable with themselves. All that lace and lingerie is nice, but nothing is hotter than a girl wearing my shirt and nothing else.” Jungkook admits. “It brings out the territorial side in me.”

  Your brows crease. “That makes sense I guess, but this isn’t your shirt. It’s Jimin’s-”

     “Mine. I left it here one night after sleeping over Junior year. “ he explains. “You stole it from Jimin’s drawer thinking it was his.”

    “Oh….sorry. I’ll give it back.” Despair fills you at the thought. This is your favorite shirt regardless of it being a plain white t-shirt, it always makes you feel safe and comfy when wearing it as odd as it sounds. However you can’t afford to disrupt the newfound civialty between Jungkook and you.

      Jungkook snorts. “Keep it. Not like it will fit me anymore. Besides like I said, nothing turns me on more than a woman in my shirt. Why do you think I never asked for it back, princess?”

 He reaches out to toy with the hem of the shirt, his fingers drawing soft circles against your hip bone.   "Although I think I'd prefer you without it on, or rather anything on at all."

    "Jungkook…" you barely managed to get out as he lifts the material upwards. Cold air hits instantly pebbling your nipples despite the rush of warmth growing below. Instinctively you move to cover yourself only for Jungkook to grab your wrist. 

  "Please (Y/N). I've been dying to touch you since day one of your return." He begs, bringing your hand down. 

     "Okay." You whisper. 

"Okay. " he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. Those large hands clutch your shoulders as he presses further against you. All those curves and muscles you admired previously push up against your bare skin. Through the sweatpants you can feel how hard he is.

     A gasp escapes you as Jungkook's hands move towards your breasts caressing the underbelly of them. His fingers circle the outer edges of your nipples tracing them,  before finally moving to touch them.  He treats you like glass, a vast difference from your previous encounters and it's starting to annoy you . "I'm not made of glass you know?" You remind, stopping his hands. "You can be rough with me. "

      "Trust me, I know.  If memory serves correct you prefer it when I do something like this-" Jungkook snorts, grinding into you. The friction of his length against your clothed heat is exactly what you need. Moaning loudly you grip onto his arms trying to steady yourself. 

"That's it. Such a slut for friction. You honestly thought I'd forget how you made yourself cum on my thigh that night?" Jungkook smirks, fingers grazing along the edges of exposed skin. Goosebumps rise along wherever he touches and you squirm like underneath him. His smirk widens as he plays along the hem of your booty shorts. "I had to wash my jeans afterwards, they were so drenched from you. "

    "I didn't hear you complaining." You shoot back, pressing your hips against him in efforts to regain that delicious friction. "If I remember correctly you had fun flexing your leg underneath me."

     "Never said I didn't.  In fact I would very much like a repeat of that night." Jungkook grins, shifting so his thigh is between your legs.  The muscle in his leg flexes teasing your core; in a commanding tone he whispers, "Go crazy, princess. Ride me. Right here, right now, I promise I'll take care of ya. "

    That's all you need to hear to descend into madness. Almost instinctively you latch onto Jungkook digging your nails into his firm shoulders as you wantonly thrust against his leg. Moans escape your lips in wild abandon as his muscles rub against your clit at the perfect angle. Jungkook is right you are a whore for thigh riding. 

    Just when you think it can't get any better Jungkook's hand slips under your panties, fingers immediately finding that hard pearl between your legs. He brushes it softly causing you to hiss as your knees close in unwillingly to give up such feeling. Now this is more like it. 

    "You like that?"  He teases, forefinger circling your clit slowly.

    "Mmhmm…" you nodd, grinding harder in an attempt to pick up his pace. 

   "Words princess. Tell me exactly what you want. "

       "More. " you cry out. "Kook. More please. I need you. "

   Oddly the nickname spurs him on if the harsh whisper of, 'fuck' says anything. If not then certainly the desperate opened mouth pressed to your lips does. Silently you make a mental note to use the nickname again but it's momentarily lost as his fingers pick up speed.  This time it's you uttering curses as Jungkook brings you right to the edge of cumming.

    "Please, please, I'm so close."  You want him so badly it's ridiculous. The smirk widens on his face, Junkook decides to reward you by slipping two of his fingers into your core. "Fuck Kook!"

   "That's it, princess. Come for me. Show me how good you feel." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you. All words leave you as a haze of ecstacy falls over you, all you can is moan rocking deliberately against his hand.  With every thrust his fingers somehow hit that special spot inside you. 

     Jungkook's an expert at knowing all your spots and kinks, almost as if he memorized everything about you, last time he and you were together. Either way impressed doesn't even begin to describe how you feel about his abilities. You moan his name, holding onto to him tightly as you orgasm onto his thigh. It lasts longer than expected small waves of pleasure still coming despite the relaxed posture of your body resting on his. 

        Gently Jungkook strokes your hair in a  manner similar to what lovers do after such an event. Alarm bells ring out at the action, but you make no move to stop him. "Was that a good enough reenactment for you?" You mention, half teasing. 

    Jungkook grins. "Better than good. You got me so hard, princess, I don't know how I can last."

   This time it's you who smirks. Sliding off of his thigh, you get on your knees anxious for the next act. "Well then, I better make what little time you do have as great as possible. "

    Before Jungkook can say a word you reach under the waistband of his sweats gripping his length tenderly in your hand. The groan uttered from Jungkook's lips at the slightest touch of your hand ignites another fire within you. Smirk widening you pull out your prize, taking a second to admire the gorgeous cock. Despite having seen it before you can never quite get its length or the beautiful curve of it. 

     Running a finger along the thick veins you see a bit of pre-cum at its tip. "You weren't joking when you said that last act turned you on." You tease, swiping over his head with your thumb.

     Staring into his eyes, you put your thumb into your mouth sucking off the cum.  The salty taste makes your mouth water, with an exaggerated pop take your thumb out. "Fuck, (Y/N). Don't tease, I'll go insane if you do." Jungkook pleads.

    "So needy." You say, taking him into your mouth. Thankfully your last boyfriend was somewhat of a blow job junkie, and while Jungkook is twice as large as he was, you have no problem taking his length into your mouth. The tip touches the back of your throat, instinctively you hollow your cheeks sucking in a slow teasing manner. 

   You  swirl your tongue about his base enjoying the beautiful noises Jungkook made under your tongue. Soon a hand buries itself into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to control the pace. Normally you wouldn't allow such behavior preferring your lover to suffer under you, however there's something about Jungkook's desperation to get off using your mouth that sends heat pooling to your core. It doesn't take long until he's spilling into your mouth, hands pulling on your hair he thrusts his hips forward pushing himself further into your mouth.  

  “Shit, princess. That was great. Almost as good as cumming inside you." Jungkook sighs running a hand through his messy hair. 

    You smile wiping the corners of your mouth clean. "Unfortunately you're going to have to miss out. Jimin will be home soon."

  Again his hands make their way to your hips, already you can tell he's angling for another kiss. "We'll have to be quick then. "

       Jungkook leans forward, but this time you pull away. "The last thing Jimin needs is to walk in on us….besides we need to wash these sweats before he gets home. "

     His lips curl into a smile practically relishing in your embarrassment, "Fair enough princess, but don't think we are done yet. I plan on making your toes curl as much as possible until the plane ride home. "

  You cock an eyebrow. “Those are big words coming from a man who just begged me to cum. What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

      “Easy, because you like it as much as I do.” Jungkook replies, grinding himself once more against you. A sharp hiss escapes you; almost uncontrollably you push back desperate for that sweet friction, however Jungkook moves away denying any sensation. “ Nuh uh, Jimin’s going to be home soon. Wouldn’t want him catching us, now would we (Y/N)? You’ll  have to wait until next.”

    “You, son of a bitch!” You snap, glaring daggers at his retreating form. As much as you hate to admit it, something tells you this newfound friendship with Jungkook is going to be more than you bargained for.

    --------

Despite what your parents may think, your summer vacation home isn’t an excuse to be lazy. While it is true that Korea’s summer vacations are shorter than American's, as a teacher you still have plenty of work left to do during the student’s time off. One such thing happens to be reading over the posts written by your honor’s literature course throughout the break. Normally you graded them at night when everyone was asleep, but as your class delves deeper into the context of Frankenstein, you find yourself unable to keep your nightly routine with the density of the topic. Hence why you now sit in a cafe  hunched over your laptop rereading Joni’s obviously copyrighted post. 

    “You look lost in thought.” A cheery voice teases.

   For a second your brain tricks into thinking it’s Jungkook talking, after all he’s been bothering you extra since the two of you made the transition from enemies to fuck buddies. So it wouldn’t be unusual if the dark haired boy stalked you to the cafe to annoy you. However when you look up it’s not tattooed arms or a dopey bunny looking face you see, instead a pair of smiling almond shaped eyes stare down at you, their owner a very familiar reddish brunette. 

    “Hoseok!” you cry, leaping up only to hit your knee on the table. It throbs causing a sharp expletive to escape your lips. Embarrass you try to shake it off as if it never happened. Last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him. “Hi, I didn’t see you there.”

   “I can tell.” he laughs gesturing towards your knee. “I didn’t mean to startle you, (Y/N). It’s just been ages since I last saw you.”

   Your heart skips a beat. Nervously you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears in attempts to play cool. Logically you know you have no reason to get nervous, especially not when Hoseok ditched you at a restaurant after getting told you were a slut by Jungkook. Yet, for whatever reason that small high school girl who idolized him still remains inside you.

    “Almost six years. “ You smile. “Time has sure flown by hasn’t it?”

“Maybe but you haven’t changed much.” Hoseok winks, causing your brows to furrow. Haven’t changed much? What was he talking about? Did he not see your clear evolution from loner geek into potential adult? “You’re still as pretty as you were back in high school.”

   This time you are pretty sure your heart stops. It takes everything in your power not to gap like a wide-mouth fish out of water. Time seems to slow down in the small coffee shop as you work to come up with a response. Suddenly all the previous noises of chatter, whistling kettles and clanking plates become overwhelming rather than peaceful. Unfortunately even after being in a committed relationship for two years, your flirtation skills are still rusty. “You obviously need glasses then, because I looked like a hobo back then.”

      You can slap yourself. Literally-actually slap yourself for that stupid ass comment. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind only laughing even harder than before. “Nah, you were the prettiest girl on campus. Everyone was just afraid of you, because Jimin and Jungkook always hung around you-speaking of which, I want to apologize for how I acted back then. I shouldn’t have ditched you over such a stupid thing like that.”

    “Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge trust me.” you lie, ignoring the pang in your chest. Just remembering that day brings a new fire of hostility towards Jungkook. No matter how many years pass you still remember the day clearly. You were waiting for Hoseok at a local dinner, anxiously checking your phone for any messages or calls. A full hour passed with you insisting multiple times to the kind waitress that your date was arriving soon, however Hoseok never showed up. 

     You tried contacting him, worried that something terrible happened only to never get a response. Once home, you even bug Jimin who was friends with Hoseok then about the cheery boy, only to be brushed off. It’s not until you went to school the next day and confronted Hoseok in the hallway that you found out the truth. Jungkook let it loose that you were a slut and Hoseok being the knight in shining armor he was, fought him. They were equally matched with both of them garnering bruises and bumps because of it, but ultimately they were tied. 

“Look (Y/N), you seem like a nice girl, ” Hoseok said, brushing you off. “And what Jungkook said about you being a slut probably isn’t true, but I really can’t handle all this drama between you two.”

  That day your heart broke in two as dramatic as it sounds. Moreover from that moment you vowed to hate Jeon Jungkook for the rest of your life. “No, it’s really not and I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I would like another chance to get to know you.” Hoseok asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

   "Okay. " the word slips through your lips before you even have a chance to think it over. 

     His face lights up and any doubt you once had shatters completely. People change, Jungkook did so maybe Hoseok matured too. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try again. "Great. It'll be fun, I promise. "

     "I'm going to hold you to that Hoseok. " you tease. Inside you the giddiness grows, it feels as if you walked into some sort of dream or something. Didn't every girl dream of her high school crush finally realizing what a catch she is?

   "You won't regret it."  Hoseok swears. "Anyway I should let you get back to work, but first can I get your number?"

   You rattle it off to him, doing your best to appear stoic, unfortunately the aching in your smiling cheeks suggests utter failure.  Afterwards your students' work feels like less frustrating or maybe you're feeling a little generous seeing how Trisha totally bullshited her review yet you still gave a ⅘ on it. Whatever the reason you finish up faster than expected, leaving the cafe with an extra hour of free time.  "Well if it isn't a princess set free from her tower!" Someone whistles. 

  Unlike earlier you have no issue distinguishing the playful voice of Jungkook. Turning towards the noise, you unsurprisingly find him propped up against his car in a cool uncaring fashion. His work clothes only help amplify the appearance; the black suit jacket paired perfectly with his white dress shirt and pants ensemble make him look like a Chaebol rather than plain Jungkook. All in all he looks absolutely mouth watering, but you'd die before ever admitting it. "If it isn't the ogre coming out of his swamp to play. " you tease, pinching his arm. 

  He chuckles, opening the passenger's door of his black Lexus. "I think you forget the ogre got his princess in the end. "

   You wrinkle your nose in faux disgust. "Good luck, finding one. I don't know how many people can put up with your ugly mug. "

  "Don't need to. I already captured you. " Jungkook replies, closing the car door. 

    You blink registering what he said.  "That's the cheesiest line I've ever heard."

 He shrugs slipping on a pair of faux Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses. Paired with the rest of his outfit, the glasses shattered the image of the rich Chaebol man. Their paint chipped arms and scratched off logo scream 'fake' and you wonder why Jungkook kept such hideous knock offs. "You should get rid of those. They make you look cheap. "

    Jungkook scrunches his nose. "No way, they were a gift. "

   "A gift purposefully bought from some shady street vendor, because my mother insisted I buy you a college graduation gift." You say, reaching out to grab them.

     Naturally Jungkook only needs to lean away to thwart your efforts. "So? I like them. "

    "You look like one of those wannabe entrepreneurs on Instagram. "

   "How dare you! I have over five hundred followers, I'm legendary!"

     "Did Jimin make five hundred accounts? Because he's the only who would follow your ass!"  You say, attempting one more shot at retrieving those vile glasses. 

     Once more Jungkook merely tilts his head blocking your stubby little arms from reaching. "Whatever you say princess, we both know you're the one following my ass around here. "

  "I'm following you? How laughable. I didn't know you were a comedian, Jungkook…" the two of you continue bantering the rest of the car ride home.

--------------

Author’s note: Special thanks to @dreamsfromthesandman​ for editing and putting up with my craziness even if she’s not army.

[daughterofadeadman]

Double Sided

Pairings: Alec x Stiles

Warnings: Drinking, fluff

Description: The one where Lydia drags Stiles to a party and he runs into Alec, literally. College AU

Word count: 1468

"Whose party is this anyways?" Stiles asked clambering out of the car. It's not like he actually cared, he was just trying to delay the inevitable.

"Lightwood, you don't know him. He's totally your type though, tall with black hair and brooding basically a young Derek Hale by all standards. Now if you're ready we can go in." Lydia said making a show of throwing her hair over her shoulder.

"That is not my type. I'm more of a strawberry blond type of guy if you know what I mean." He said completely ignoring the comment about his stalling.

Lydia scuffed at his words, "You haven't been a strawberry blond type of guy since sophomore year. Now shut up and come and party with me."

Stiles sighed but gave in while slightly trudging through the neatly cut grass. It wasn't that Stiles didn't like to go to parties, he had lost his virginity thanks to one Junior year, it was just that he wasn't in the mood to be dumped. Lydia always left him when they went to parties together, merely because they attracted different crowds, and it always put a damper on Stiles night. Tonight would be no exception and he knew better then to think it would be.

The music vibrated through Stiles body like an electric shock the closer they got to the house. The two had to park down the road because of the excess of party goer's vehicles lining the street on both sides. "This guy most be known for throwing some great parties." Stiles thought looking at the number of people dancing on the lawn which was already littered in plastic cups.

Once Lydia and Stiles breached the threshold of the house red solo cups were thrusted into their hands. "Cheers." Lydia said tapping her cup to Stiles before downing half the cup.

"Cheers." Stiles replied taking a small sip. A look of disgust painted his features once the substance hit his taste buds. "Gross."

A laugh escaped Lydia's lips as she pulled Stiles to the dance floor. "Come on let loose." She yelled over the pounding of the base. Taking another gulp of her drink she began to dance to the music's beat. Stiles rolled his eyes but did as his bestfriend demanded.

Within a few minutes Stiles had finished his drink without throwing up. He did not enjoy beer, he was more of a whiskey guy like his father. If he was going to be honest he thought it was more enjoyable watching everyone get drunk then it was getting drunk, but he was doing this for Lydia.

The sassy girl had it set in her mind that Stiles needed a night out, and he wasn't going to take that away from her, not just yet. It wasn't until they both began dancing with other people that he slipped away to the kitchen.

The kitchen was really only separated from the dining room by a bar, which was covered in crushed or fallen cups. The great oak table was being used for beer pong and the counter held a couple being a little too intimate for Stiles liking. Rolling his eyes, he headed to the back of the kitchen hoping to find somewhere to sit down and wait out Lydia. Making his way through couples making out in the hallway he found himself in a smaller sitting room.

What he wasn't expecting was for a tall, dark, and handsome guy to bump into him on his way to the couch.

"Hey watch where you're-" The guy said before cutting himself off. His eye's met Stiles and a smile graced his face. A tattoo poked out from beneath his black tee shirt causing Stiles to wonder what it was.

"I haven't seen you at one of these before. I'm Alec by the way." He said before sticking his hand out, a red cup in the other. The smell of alcohol hit Stiles in the nose as he gripped the other boys hand.

"Stiles."

"Stiles." Alec repeated as if tasting his name. "That's different."

Stiles nodded as he watched the other boy bring the cup to his lips for a drink.

"Yeah it's a nickname." Stiles replied, eyes still glued to the plump lips in front of him.

"Stiles." He said again. "I like it."

"I'm glad that I have your approval." Stile sassed before he could stop himself.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he raked his fingers through his hair. Why was he being so rude in such a short amount of time? It must be a new record, even for Stiles.

Alec on the other hand smiled even wider. "Who is this Stiles kid?" He wondered taking another sip of his drink.

The two stood for a few seconds longer before either of them spoke up. "How are you enjoying the party?" Alec asked.

The pounding of the next songs base kicked in just as Stiles was about to speak. If he was going to be honest, he hated parties. They were just filled with drunk teenagers who would probably get themselves killed by the end of the night. He only came tonight because he cared about Lydia's opinion, and because he was ignoring one very grumpy twenty-five-year-old.

"I'm not." Stiles said before explaining how he felt leaving out the bit about Derek Hale. "I feel bad for the guy that through this party though. Even though I'm not enjoying it I wouldn't want to be him. People are totally trashing his house and I even think someone puked in the drive way. If I can find the guy I might even offer to help clean up after words if he isn't to trashed himself."

"Someone puked in the drive way?" Alec asked his voice taking on a strange note to which Stiles nodded.

"It's kinda gnarly."

"Oh god." Alec moaned wiping a hand down his face.

"Yeah like I said wouldn't want to be that guy." Stiles noticed the way Alec shot him a glare before shaking his head and smiling again.

"Yeah, me neither."

The pair began to talk about everything and anything in between, no topic was off limits. Stiles told him about how his mom past a few years back and how his dad was the Sheriff of a few towns over. They talked about Lydia, and how she is honestly so hot but terrifying at the same time. Alec told Stiles about his little brother Max passing away last year and his adoptive brother Jace who was totally around here somewhere. They talked about Izzy and how she got all the hot genes, something that Stiles wouldn't believe until he saw proof, and about how Alec's parents were off on business quite a bit. They even somehow started talking about Derek Hale and how he and Stiles were no longer a thing, part of the reason Stiles was forced out tonight.

"It's alright. Uh Magnus Bane, do you know him?" With a dismissive shake of the head Alec continued. "Well we were sort of a thing to so I know what you mean when you say you needed to get out."

The pair didn't stop there.

"What do you mean you have never seen Star Wars? It's like a national treasure! It's more important to this county then the next president. No this can't stand, next Friday you are making popcorn and I am coming to your house with the best movies seriously ever and were watching them."

"Stiles you've never had tres leche cake? That's insane, I'll have to make you some. Izzy absolutely loves it I swear it's great."

"Alec no you can't think that Bateman stands a chance against Superman. No, this totally makes you less hot, stop."

"Stiles, Stiles slow down I can hardly understand you."

"Pepsi is so much better than coke shut up."

The night was still long, and Stiles no longer regretted coming to this totally trash party because of Alec. The boys had positioned themselves against a wall, seeing as the couch was occupied. Stiles repeatedly pushed himself from the wall to emphasis his ever-changing points and Alec regarded his spastic actions with a smile. The two were content in their little bubble until Lydia popped it.

"Stiles there you are!" Lydia yelled over the music grabbing Stiles by the wrist. "I lost you forever ago, but I see you've been in good hands. Nice party by the way Alec."

"Nice party?"

A nervous chuckle escaped Alec's lips. "If I remember correctly you said you'd help clean up?"

[parkerpeter24]

Quizzes End Up In Kisses ~ Peter Parker💕

Part-7 of the Eight Days Of Valentine series

Part 8

Warnings: fluff, thank you.

Sorry for I'm late. Also, I don't know anything about schooling system in the U.S. so forgive me.

Middle school was exhausting, not to mention stupid, and you dreaded going to High school. Going everyday to a place for nearly your whole life, a prison called school, was never on your checklist. It was a pretty basic list and all the things you would want to do one day were mentioned in it.

And Peter Parker had managed to get on the top.

Entering Liz's house, you were met with loud noise and kids scattered all around the living area. The snacks and drinks were placed neatly on the kitchen slab. You sighed before moving in and placing your small gift in the pile that was placed near the christmas tree. You were invited to the party by Liz and you had nothing better to do on a Christmas eve and maybe you would find Peter here too. MJ was in the extreme corner of the room which was illuminated by a bright lamp under which she read a book. You smiled at her and her book choice, 'Great Leadership by Kimberly Davis.'

You moved towards the kitchen where you spotted Liz greeting her friends. The party went on, you stuck to MJ in the back until she needed to get back home and you didn't.

Few people were still left, probably close friends of Liz, when you spotted Ned and Peter near the window, whispering something to each other. You moved towards them setting aside the glass of juice.

"Hey Peter, Ned!" You greeted cheerfully. Ned waved, greeting you back while Peter straightened a bit, the soft light hid the mild blush covering his cheeks. It wasn't hard for you, or anyone for that matter, to figure out that he liked you. He wasn't good with secrets.

"Hey, (y/n)." He replied when Ned cleared his throat . You didn't want to seem desperate by asking him out or truth be told, you were shy yourself and didn't want to convert your friendship into awkwardness.

The room was starting to clear and you were now having a proper conversation with both the boys, majorly about school and homework when a loud voice pulled you out of the on-going topic.

"Hey losers!" Flash yelled, indicating the three of you."You need to come here." He called out, you rolled your eyes but nonetheless moved to where everyone left was gathered in a small circle. You sat beside Liz as everyone settled down and Liz started talking, "So, I have a game for everyone." She grinned and then you zoned out, staring at the boy in front of you. Brown eyes squinted slightly in concentration as he tried so hard to steal a glance at you whereas you were, absentmindedly, full on gaping at him. Only, you, Liz, Betty, Flash, Ned and Peter were left in the room.

"(Y/n), you wanna put something in?" Liz asked, popping your Peter bubble.

"What?" You asked, not having listened to a word she said.

"You wanna put something in the bag?" She pointed to the small bag placed in the centre. Where would it even come from, "And since you're the last one, you get to have the first chance." She grinned. By now, it wasn't really hard to guess that the group was playing seven minutes in heaven.

You grabbed the bag and got up, throwing your bracelet in when no one was watching and shaking the bag. You fished the bag and pulled out a small keyring which was way too familiar. A blush covered your cheeks as you realised whose it was. A small Darth Vader keyring that you gave Peter on his birthday. You looked to Peter who looked like a reindeer caught in headlights. You heard Flash laugh, "Do you think these guys are going to hold hands?"

Soon you were pushed into a room, Peter just behind you as Liz locked the door.

You sat on Liz's bed and Peter stood against the wall across you, the tension was undeniable. A few minutes were passed in silence before Peter cleared his throat and sat beside you on the bed. You watched him in anticipation as he ran his fingers through his hair, "(Y/n), you know, we don't have to do anything just because Flash would probably never leave this."

You felt a bit disappointed but you couldn't let Flash tease Peter for this, "Yeah, I know how to shut Flash up." You smiled.

You told Flash that you had made out with Peter and the look on his face was precious. Maybe it would be the other way around and instead of Flash teasing Peter, you would tease Flash for Peter had his first kiss before him. No one has to know that he didn't.

.•°☆°•..•°☆°•..•°☆°•.

It's been almost a year since then and everybody but you had forgotten that night. And you could never.

You saw Peter leaning against your locker as you made your way through the sea of teenagers.

"Hey!" You greeted your best friend, "Where's Ned?"

"Maths." He answered, shrugging. You smiled at him as you pulled out your Chemistry textbook.

"I'm already bored seeing this textbook." You complained walking beside Peter as you began your trip to the classroom.

"I know, Mr. Smith can be tough on us kids at times." He laughed, watching as you rolled your eyes at no one. "By the way, you prepared for the test?"

"Nope." You replied as soon as the question left his mouth, popping the p in the word.

"Well, you need to. This test makes up 33 percent of our total grades this semester." You sighed at this, nodding your head in understanding as you reached the class.

.•°☆°•..•°☆°•..•°☆°•.

You were at your desk for the past one hour, staring at your Chemistry textbook. Oh how you hated the subject. You were dozing off when you heard a series of knocks on your window. Although knowing it was the one and only, you were shocked and awakened from your sleep.

You ran to the window, unlocking it and letting your masked friend inside before locking it and pulling the curtains. Peter was always careless, not at all good at hiding his identity considering that you figured out, but you saved his ass.

"I'm so jealous of you." You complained and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Why?" He asked.

"You know, you get to do all cool superhero stuff and you're still gonna face that test tomorrow!" You exclaimed, burying your face in his chest and taking in his warmth as he wrapped his arms while laughing, "My mom is gonna kill me." You sighed.

"Okay, let's practice together then." He stated, moving towards your study.

"Aren't you tired?" You asked.

"Not for you, I'm not." He replied shyly and turned away from you to hide his own blush as a faint pink covered your cheeks.

Studying with Peter was rather distracting, not that you haven't done it before, but with time it seemed to have become difficult to focus on the subject and you were more interested in the pout that formed on his lips when he didn't understand something, or the way he squinted his eyes to focus, or the way his fingers played with the pencil when he was thinking something, or the way his eyebrows creased when he got an answer wrong. You were so busy admiring him.

"Okay, I got a good question for you." Peter said, pulling you out of your own little world.

"Shoot."

"And element X is divalent -" He started but you groaned, cutting him off.

"Oh, I hate X and Y questions!" You whined.

"Come on, you don't even know the question yet." Peter replied, "You need to practice if you want to get good grades on that test."

"Okay, I'll study. But, I have one condition." You said, smirking and Peter gulped. He knew that smirk. Something bad was going inside your mind whenever you did this. Before he could ask anything, though, you said, "If I answer ten of your questions correctly then you have to kiss me." You said. Your heartbeat was incredibly fast but your face showed the same smirk as Peter's cheek turned a crimson shade.

"Okay." He said, "I got some questions for you." He smirked, choosing the set of questions that he knew you would be able to answer easily.

"First question." He started, smiling at your nervousness as you tapped your fingers gently against the table. You wanted this as much as he did, "The number of moles of solute present in one kilogram of a solvent is called as…" He trailed off waiting for an answer.

You smiled, "That's easy. It's molality." You answered sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Correct. Don't get too excited (y/l/n), it's just the first question." He replied, mocking your tone which made you giggle.

"Your impressions are hilarious Parker." You teased, laughing as he smiled proudly.

"Wait till you hear my Thor impression." He beamed, "Anyway, the next question, The metal used to separate copper from a copper sulphate solution is?" He asked.

"Ferrous." You replied.

You didn't expect the questions to get harder but what do you expect from Peter Nerd Parker. You were on the ninth question and you were getting more and more nervous, "What is the chemical name for baking soda?"

"It's, Sodium something… Sodium Carbonate?"

"No. It's-"

"Sodium Bicarbonate!" You yelled, making him laugh at your eagerness.

"Oh, shut it Parker!" You scolded, nonetheless smiling.

"Okay, so are you ready for the last question?" He asked and you just nodded. This was a perfect and probably the only chance you'd get to kiss the boy you'd had a crush on for the longest time. "Now, (y/n). Which radioactive element is used in heat pacemakers?" He asked.

Shit!

Elements were your weakest part. You stared straight into his eyes, pleading for a hint as you rack your brain for the answer. At this moment, both of you knew that Peter would kiss you no matter what, but you wanted to get it right.

"Plutonium?" You mumbled a question. Peter, having heightened senses, heard that and stood up from his seat, making you stand up and follow him to the centre of the room. He sighed, facing you with furrowed eyebrows, "Was it wrong?"

He just stood there for a moment before suddenly pulling you flush against him. Your hands instantly wrapped around his neck and a yelp escaped your throat before you felt his lips over yours. Moving at a slow pace. It was sweet, it was all you needed. Your hands tugged at the curls behind his head and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead on yours, "Correct."

You smiled so wide, your cheeks started to hurt. Suddenly you couldn't help what you said out aloud, "Kissing you was on my checklist since Middle school." He laughed at this.

"The infamous checklist?" He asked. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You knew about it?" You asked back for his answer.

"You're not good with secrets either. I heard you and MJ talking about it." He replied sheepishly.

"And you didn't tell me?" You asked, smiling.

"It was an accident." He said in a small voice, parting from you slightly and you shook your head softly as your gaze fell on the wall clock.

"It's nothing." You smiled, "Hey, I think you should go. It's getting late." He nodded, giving you a final peck on the lips as he grabbed his mask, moving towards your window.

"Peter." You called out. He turned back to face you, waiting for you to say something, "Don't forget about the Spanish quiz day after tomorrow." You smirked and he knew that smirk.

Taglist:

@harrysbbby @overly-obsessed @luckyfiction17 @avengersgroupchat @ollieologys @afictionaladventure16 @hollandraul @clqudsparker @spider-manholland @screamholland @angelhaz11 @farfromhaz @drunklili @spideyyeet @fairytaleparker @venusparker @dazzling-rubabe @kitkatd7 @hazmyheart @angelic-holland @littlekidsteve @audreylovespidey706 @ironholland19 @lauras-collection @spideyyeet @cherryredparker @ploont @cucumberfingers @angel-spidey @spideygirl2003 @greatpizzascissorstaco @the-crazy-fanfictionist @lovabletomholland @lovelytholland @parkerdrabbles @parkers-fidelity @tom-holland-is-spiderman @tomsrebeleyebrow @hollandcuddles

[milomeepit]

Kiss Me- Moxiety (Highschool AU)

Word Count: 2.3k

Ships: Logince, Moxiety, Decani

Content Warnings: Minor blood/injury, violence mention, sex jokes, homophobic classmates

AN: Should I be working on my Big Bang? Yes. Should I be doing homework? Also yes. But I had the idea and it refused to wait 😂 Also, I'm on mobile so 1) no taglist but I'll reblog it later if I remember, and 2) I think I did the read more correctly but if it didn't I'd like to make a formal apology to everyone who gets this spaghetti mess of a oneshot on their dash

Virgil was somewhat used to the feeling that he couldn't breathe. Be it from panic, anger, or other overwhelming emotions, it was a familiar sensation; his lungs squeezed so tight it felt as if his chest would collapse in on itself. But nothing caused such a sweet ache as Patton.

(Kiss me out of the bearded barley

Nightly, beside the green, green grass

Swing, swing, swing the spinning step

You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress)

It had been Roman's idea, to begin with. The asshole. He'd teased Virgil endlessly about his flushed cheeks and soft smiles, directed entirely at Roman's best friend. Virgil had vehemently denied all accusations of love, of course.

"Come on, Danger Drone, you can't lie to me!" Roman teased Virgil from his position sprawled across his bed. "You've got it baaad."

Virgil shot a glare at his brother before returning his attention to his laptop. "No way," He scoffed, shifting on his own bed, tucking a small stuffed cat beside the pillow so it wouldn't be squished by his squirming.

Roman rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out before starting to sing, "Who ya think you're kiddin'? He's the earth and he-" He was cut off by a pillow smacking into his face.

Virgil snapped his laptop lid shut and hopped off of his bed, stalking over to Roman and crossing his arms. "I. Do not. Have a thing. For your dorky friend." He hissed.

"You know, you could really take some acting tips from Dad and me," Roman flashed him a toothy grin as he sat up, sitting nose to nose with Virgil.

Virgil scowled. "You're seriously cruising for a bruising, you know that, right?"

"As if. Logan would kick your ass," Roman winked. "He may be your best friend, but he's my boyfriend."

"As if. He'd be too busy lecturing you on provoking violence. And then you two disasters would probably start bickering and end up making out on the kitchen table again."

"Hey, that was one time!"

[[MORE]]

(Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me)

As much as Virgil hated to admit it, Roman was right. He was head over heels for Patton. Who wouldn't be? 

He had such a pleasant way of speaking. Sweet, warm, but not superficial. He was always trying to look after other people, be it upset little kids from the elementary school next door, students freaking out over exams and friendships, teachers carrying things to their car, or lost and distressed animals.

He knew that Patton wasn't always the super sweet, happy, helpful person he seemed. Nobody could be, they wouldn't be human. But Virgil found himself wondering what it would be like to comfort Patton, help him with the little things he was always helping others with. The bubbly boy was always so busy with everyone else, Virgil sometimes worried that he didn't look after himself.

On the plus side, he thought as he trudged to school one morning, Roman was good with that kind of thing. He would nag Virgil to eat, to have his meds, to go to bed if it was too late. It was annoying at times, but he appreciated it. Roman was protective of those he cared about.

Which meant he really should have seen this sort of thing coming.

(Kiss me down by the broken tree house

Swing me, upon its hanging tire

Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat

We'll take the trail marked on your father's map)

"What the fuck happened?!" Virgil gaped at the blood smeared across Logan's face, leaking from beneath the crimson-stained tissues he held to his nose.

"Oh, you know. Charming small town high schoolers," Logan sighed, his voice muffled and nasal, as he gestured to the pencil skirt he was wearing. 

He was in Roman's lap on the cot in the nurses office. Patton was already with them, sitting in a chair he had dragged from across the room, his hands fluttering anxiously as he cleaned up blood from Logan's shirt.

Roman was quiet, his arms wrapped around Logan's waist. "I'm going to beat them into the dirt," He muttered, his eyes glowing with anger.

"That's not necessary, Roman, honestly. I'll just stop wearing feminine clothing to school, it's obvious that was the catalyst here." Logan shook his head.

Virgil perched on the cot next to them. "You shouldn't have to, though. It's hardly your fault that they're a bunch of close-minded assholes."

"Close-minded assholes who should know better than to bully my beloved," Roman growled. 

Virgil glanced at him, noticing his tense shoulders and clenched fists. "Ro, you can't fight everybody who hurts us," He cautioned. "Jock or not, you've got limits like everyone else."

"Well, it isn't like they're going to stop." Logan twisted to face Virgil. "Let's face facts; they'll get in trouble, detention or suspension at worst, and then they'll go right back to it."

Patton pouted. "I wish there was something we could do, though."

The four were silent for a few seconds before Roman lifted his head. "You know," He said slowly, his eyes lighting up, "I might just have an idea of what we could do."

(Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me)

Virgil fiddled with his seatbelt nervously in the backseat of the car. "Are you sure about this?" He asked Roman.

Roman didn't respond for a moment, squinting into a compact mirror as streetlights flashed past, illuminating the interior of the car with yellow light. He snapped it shut, apparently satisfied, and turned to Virgil. "Of course! I'd love to see them try to come after us after tonight."

"You two look great," Pops chirped from the front seat, turning to look at them. His glasses obscured his face in the dim car, but Virgil could make out his wide grin. "You're really gonna knock 'em dead tonight!"

"And if by chance any of these bullies don't make it through the night, I have bleach and a shovel in the garage," Dad added with a smirk, throwing a glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the road.

Pops smacked his arm lightly. "Dee! You can't fight fire with fire like that!" He chided. "Don't encourage them to murder people."

Dad laughed and winked at Pops. "Oh, lighten up, Em. I'm just kidding."

Pops let out an unconvinced hum before turning back to the boys. "Do you guys have everything you need? Phones, water bottles, snacks?"

"Condoms?" Dad added, earning him another smack. "Hey!" He complained jokingly. "I'm just making sure they stay safe."

"The school is catering for the dance, it's fine, Pops," Virgil laughed. "And we're probably gonna grab dinner on the way home, anyway."

"Alright, alright," Pops smiled, turning back around in his seat. "Make sure you guys stay safe tonight, okay? And if anything happens, call us."

"Yes, Pops," They responded in unison, sharing a fond eyeroll.

(Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me)

Virgil wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when they walked into the dance. Roman was obviously going to get a lot of attention in the long, hip-hugging, vibrant red dress he had picked out. The lacy bottom of the skirt swirled around him as he casually strutted into the room, white heels clicking against the wooden floor. He wondered suddenly if he should have worn heels.

"Roman! Virgil!" He turned to see Patton and Logan, already posted up by the snacks table, Patton waving wildly at them. As they approached, Logan handed them each a cup of soda with a nod.

"You guys look amazing!" Patton gushed, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looked back and forth between the two brothers. "You look really nice in purple, Virge, you should wear it more!"

Virgil felt a blush creeping up his neck as he took a swig of soda. "Uh, thanks," He responded. He hadn't been sure about the floaty violet skirt and silver, off the shoulder bodice when Roman had thrust it at him in the store, but he had to admit it was growing on him. Especially if Patton liked it.

He took a moment to look Patton up and down. Something about the shimmering, wide blue skirt and butterflies dotted across the neckline seemed familiar, but it was hard to focus on when Patton was smiling sweetly up at him, his sparkling blue eyes framed with delicate eyeliner and his cheeks dusted with shimmery highlighter.

"Your dad's really outdone himself with this one!" Roman exclaimed. "Cinderella, right? It looks gorgeous!"

Patton giggled and did a little twirl, the skirt swishing around him as he moved. "Yeah! He's been working on it for a while to sell as a costume piece, but when I told him about the dance, he said I could have it!"

Virgil grinned. Patton's dad was an odd one- a chaotic cryptid with all the self control of a hyperactive monkey- but he certainly knew how to hit an aesthetic. 

Logan reached out to Roman, standing up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You guys really didn't have to do this, you know," He smiled gently.

"What? And have the world miss out on this view?" Roman spun, the flared base of his skirt brushing against Virgil's ankles, and struck a pose, his hand on his hip.

Logan chuckled. "I suppose you're right. It would be a shame."

"Nothing compared to the potential tragedy of not being able to see you all dressed up," Roman winked, tipping up Logan's chin and pecking him on the lips.

Logan blushed faintly, his hands moving to smooth out his dark blue skirt, the star-like silver dots speckled down the fabric catching the light as he moved. "Thank you."

"Shall we?" Roman offered his arm. 

"This is a dance, after all," Logan slipped his hand into the crook of Roman's arm, and the pair disappeared into the crowd.

(So kiss me)

Virgil leaned back against the wall, swirling his soda idly as he watched couples twirl past, dresses and suits and jewelry shining in the coloured lights.

Parties were... so not his scene, but he supposed it was worth it, between the surprised looks from the brats who'd beaten up Logan, Roman and Logan clearly enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and-

"Heya!" He jumped, turning to see Patton appear next to him. "Oh, sorry! Didn't mean to spook ya," He giggled, and Virgil's heart thudded in his chest.

"It's all good," Virgil responded. "So, uh... I kinda figured you'd be off dancing with your friends. Harley and Brian and all that."

Patton shrugged. "They all paired off for the dance," He explained. "It's okay, though! That means I can hang out with you!"

"Oh," Virgil said dumbly. "Uh, do you... do you wanna dance with me?"

Patton looked up at him with a wide smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

(So kiss me)

He was dreaming. There was no other explanation for this. Patton's arms looped around his neck, chatting happily to Virgil as a slow dance played over the speakers. Dreaming or dead, he repeated as he shifted his hands on Patton's waist.

Roman caught his eye from across the room and winked. Virgil fought the urge to flip him off as Logan laughed.

So what if he liked Patton? It wasn't like this meant anything. They were just dancing together as friends, and that was fine. Virgil would enjoy it while it lasted, and that would be that.

".. rgil? Virgil, are you okay?" He blinked and looked back down to Patton to see a concerned frown on the other boy's face. "You look like you're a million miles away, buddy."

"Oh, uh... just thinking. Don't worry," Virgil blushed. "I'm okay."

"I'd hope so. If I upset you, Roman might revoke his approval," Patton giggled.

"Wait. Approval?" Virgil paused, staring down at Patton in surprise.

Patton blinked, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Well, ah, I thought you- and he said he... is this not a double date?"

Virgil shot a glare at Roman, who flashed him a sweet smile and twirled away gracefully, vanishing into the crowd with Logan once more. "First I've heard of it," He told Patton.

Patton recoiled and took a step back, his face red. "Oh! Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Virge, I- you don't have to-"

Virgil pulled him close again, his own face blazing hot. "I don't- I don't mind," He stammered. "Dancing with you. Or the, the date part."

Patton reached up and, after a moment's hesitation, put his arm around Virgil's neck again. "So... this is okay?"

"Y-yeah," Virgil confirmed. "More than okay."

Their faces were inched apart like this, and Virgil felt his breath catch in his throat as Patton bit his lip, his eyes darting down to his mouth. "Can... can I-"

Virgil didn't wait for him to finish the question before he leaned forward, connecting their lips in a soft kiss. It tasted like caramel lipgloss and cheap soda and cheese puffs and Virgil swore he was fucking floating.

When they broke apart again, Patton's eyes were shining in the pink-yellow-blue-green lights swinging over the dance floor. "Wow," He said, sounding almost as breathless as Virgil felt, and rested his head against Virgil's shoulder.

As they spun across the dance floor, the tulle of Patton's skirt flaring around them, Virgil decided maybe parties weren't so bad after all, as long as he got to bring Patton with him.

... Roman was still dead meat when they got home, though.

(So kiss me)

[jising-jisang-jisung]

Every Single Time | Lee Jeno

Genre: well floof ofc

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: I wrote this during my online class at school today for no reason other than avoiding ap Spanish yikerz. N e wayz it's kinda clichè and cheesey but I hope yall enjoy it nonetheless :)

It's one of my last fics in my jb song series!! Based off this Jonas Brothers song

To say you'd been in love was an understatement. More specifically, you had been in love with one (1) boy for five (5) years. Who is this boy, you ask. Well, none other than your very best friend, Lee Jeno.

You'd been crushing on him since eighth grade and have been friends for essentially your whole lives. The thing is, Jeno has always had other crushes and girlfriends. Of course, being that you two are besties, he tells you all about this and it lowkey highkey breaks your sensitive little heart.

To be fair, you have also had your fair share of boyfriends. Freshman year you dated Lee Donghyuck and later, Huang Renjun. The only reason you ever said yes to them was in hope of getting over your crush on Jeno. However, it never seemed to work and you were still left, well, crushed. Sophomore year you dated Chenle, but you two discovered that you worked much better as friends. Lastly, during your junior year you dated the school flirt, Na Jaemin. Everyone wondered how you managed to get such a renowned hottie. The thing is, Jaemin is another one of your friends so he knew about your crush. You two only went out because he was getting over his ex as well.

Now, in the middle of senior year, you find yourself sitting at lunch, mindlessly staring at the boy you're hopelessly in love with.

"Hey, y/n! Are you good?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, right. Yeah I'm fine," you barely managed to convince Jeno after he caught you. Chenle gave you a knowing look from across the table, to which you responded with a glare.

As odd as it was, Chenle is still one of your best friends and he knows about your ongoing crush. In fact, he was one of the first people to tell you about it, because you were too dense to realize it yourself. Quite frankly, you think that may be the reason your exes dumped you, they could see your feelings for Jeno. However, it seems that you're lucky enough because Jeno has yet to catch on.

~

"Y/n, I think you should just confess. What's the worst that could happen?" Chenle suggested.

"He could hate me," you respond coldly.

"Okay yeah, but that would only last for the rest of senior year. Then, you'll both go to college and, if need be, never see one another ever again." :D

"Wow. That makes it sound so much better," you say in a sarcastic tone.

"Who knows, y/n, he might actually like you back. I get the feeling he does."

"What makes you say that?"

"Let's make a bet. 20 bucks says you won't confess to Jeno before winter break."

"I don't want to make any bets I know I'm going to lose," you pout.

"Fine then. 20 bucks says Jeno will confess first."

"That's a bet I can win."

"That's the spirit, y/n!"

"Because Jeno doesn't have feelings for me so he'll never confess!"

"You're hopeless."

"C'mon Lele, he's always surrounded by other girls. I wouldn't even have a chance."

"Okay, but you've dated other boys too," your friend reminds you.

"That's different. Throughout high school I only dated boys to get over Jeno." You paused briefly before continuing, "but it never worked. Every single time, I keep on going back. He's always on my mind. It doesn't matter what I do." You finally looked up at Chenle again only to find him fast asleep on your bed. Late night study dates with Chenle were always like this: deep conversation from you but snooze from him.

~

You sat impatiently in your physics class, waiting for the bell to ring. As you turn your head to check the clock yet again, you are met with Jeno's eyes staring back at yours. "Y/n," he started quietly, "you should be working on your project right now not staring off into space. We only have 2 more days before it's due."

You throw him a shy smile, blushing at his observation of you. "You're probably right," you whisper back. Instead of listening to his advice, you go back into staring off. This, however, was not to your advantage because he began to wonder about what Chenle said. Maybe you should just confess. What if Jeno actually does reciprocate your feelings? You turned to face him again only for your thoughts to be interrupted by his knowing look.

"Y/n, don't make me say it again. You need to finish your project so you don't have to finish it all in one night like last time." Of course. How could you forget the last project that you made Jeno stay up all night to help you finish on time. It's not your fault that he's much superior in physics. Oh gosh. There's no way he could feel anything for you when your literally so stupid! Yes, y/n, you are just so so stupid smh.

~

You checked the time on your phone. 3 am. Another all nighter to finish your dumb project. Okay so maybe Jeno had a point the other day. As you set your phone down it began to vibrate. "Hey Lele," you answer after reading his caller ID. "I'm sorry but I cant talk now because I need to finish this project. Why are you even up at 3 in the morning? If this is some lame attempt to convince me to tell Jeno about how I feel, it's not gonna work. He obviously doesn't like me back."

You waited for a response, but the line went dead. Maybe it was just a butt dial. Or a PRANK!! THAT LITTLE PIECE OF CRAP! Calm down, y/n. It's physics time right now.

~

Jeno sat at Chenle's desk, helping him study for his Calculus test tomorrow. "Chenle, you are just like y/n, always waiting until the last minute. I should call her. I bet she's pulling an all nighter right now to finish that project."

"That's not fair. We can't help it that we don't have the same level of intellect as the great Lee Jeno," Chenle mocked.

"No. You two are just bad when it comes to procrastinating. My phone is dead, can I use yours?" Chenle tossed Jeno his phone and he quickly dialed your number. You answered almost immediately. Stupid y/n, staying up so late.

"I'm sorry but I cant talk now, Lele, because I need to finish this project. Why are you even up at 3 in the morning? If this is some lame attempt to convince me to tell Jeno about how I feel, it's not gonna work. He obviously doesn't like me back."

The boy sat there, his mouth a bit agape. "Jeno. Jeno. Yo! Jeno what did she say?" Chenle finally recovered Jeno's attention.

"Oh, right. Yeah she just said she was busy and could talk right now. And then she hung up," he lied just a little. "N E ways. Back to limits. If the x in the denominator is..."

~

As you walk into school the next day, you are caught a bit off guard. Jeno was waiting for you at your locker. "Hey, y/n," he smiled brightly. How could anyone not fall for that? "Did you have to stay up all night again for your project?" He asks, playing dumb.

"N-no. Not all night," you argue despite him assuming correctly.

He laughs a little. "You're cute when you try to lie." And with that, he walks off, leaving you flustered at your locker. The warning bell rings and you quickly gather your things for your first class. Not that it'll matter. There's no way you could focus now.

~

The rest of the day was fairly normal until lunch. You sat down next to Chenle like usual, but Jeno was acting a bit,, unusual. He was looking at you almost lovingly and it was starting to get a little creepy. <(￣︶￣)> "Isn't y/n just do pretty today?"

Chenle just kinda looked at you like （＞д＜）which you responded with 乁། ˵ ◕ – ◕ ˵ །ㄏ

"What do you mean, Jeno? Is y/n not pretty everyday?" Chenle questions him.

"Oh. Of course she is pretty everyday! But today she is extra prettyyyyy," he draws out the last word adding to his cuteness.

You obviously wanted to join the conversation as opposed to awkwardly sitting silently but you couldn't come up with any words. You could feel the red tint burning across your face, but it's not like you could stop it. "Uh oh. Y/n is blushing. That must mean you like me too, huh?"

"What?" Your mouth hung open. Earth to y/n!! Did you hear that right? Did he really just say too? Say something!

"Ha! That's 20 bucks, y/n! I knew you couldn't tell him first," Chenle screeched, only briefly capturing the attention of the lunchroom. After the students returned to their own lunches and conversations, Jeno continued:

"I asked if you liked me. Of course, I already know the answer."

"Then why do you ask?" You reply rather innocently.

"Because I want to hear you say it again."

"Again?!" You question at the same time that Chenle shouts it.

"Yeah, again. Y/n confessed to me on the phone last night," Jeno elaborates. "So if that was some sort of bet, well, she won I guess."

You nearly died of embarrassment. "Wait so that wasn't Lele calling me yesterday? It was you? And I just-"

"Wait Jeno, you said she just hung up after explaining that she was busy," Chenle argues.

"Did I forget to mention that part?"

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe I did that. Ugh," you complain while facepalming.

"So, are you gonna say it?"

"Do I have to?"

"If you want to hear me say it again then I have to hear you say it first."

"Fine. Jeno, I have had the biggest crush on you since middle school. I really like you."

"Y/n, I have had a crush on you for some time as well. I really like you too," and of course to make matters even worse for your flustered state, he adorns his confession with that signature smile that makes your heart go we got that BOOM BOOM.

~

So yeah, y/no is the ship of the school. Y'all cute or whateva. Jeno always takes you out on fun dates like roller skating or bowling. He is also SUPER CLINGY which you didn't know back when you were only friends. He loves loves loves to cuddle and can almost always be found with his arms around your waist like a koala.

[go-diane-winchester]

Misha Collins is not the Professor of Slash Fiction

What Misha Collins has done to Supernatural slash fiction, has ruined slash within the fandom and added fuel to the fire of hatred that gay men are starting to have for slash fans.  I feel very sad for the teen destiel shippers in fandom, who have fledgling sexualities and instead of letting them explore these things organically and healthily, via slash fiction, Misha wants to school them on slash, a subject he has piss poor knowledge of.  Because he is a well known figure, in SPN circles anyway, they assume that he knows what he is talking about.  Actors and characters are merely muses, not the foundations blocks for a shipper's  happiness mansion.  You don’t need their permission or blessing.  You don't need their validation.  What Misha did was, he made destiel his personal brand.  Anything for popularity.  And he did it, despite knowing that the other half of the pairing is disapproving of it.   

A slasher's sexuality is being exhibited through the stories she writes.  Slash fiction is not about an actor, show, character or other external parties.  It is internal.  It has everything to do with the girl writing the story, and is a reflection of her sexual expression.  Once upon a time, women wrote only what they like.  If they didn’t like something, they steered clear of it, because that is what people with common sense do.  I, for example, can’t read fellatio because it doesn’t do anything for me.  I guess its because I am not a man, don’t have a penis and therefore don’t know what it feels like, so I don’t appreciate it.  In my stories, my characters don’t fellate each other.  If I read a story that is really enjoyable and fellatio makes an appearance, I skip that paragraph.  However, I don’t berate the person for writing something I personally don’t like.  She wrote it perhaps because she finds it enjoyable. 

Today, women are not really writing for themselves.  They are writing homosexually appropriate sex scenes, just so that their gay male readers, that are not the majority, don’t scoff at them and go “that’s not how we do it”.  Yes, the gay friends in this bubble are happy, but the majority of the slash fans that are mostly heterosexual women are left feeling lackluster.  Perhaps that is why there is a general trend for women to “grow out of slash fiction” and even mass media is seeing slash fiction as a teenage girl’s pass time.  Women, who are fully grown, and fully aware of their sexuality can’t pretend to like the stories because the stories are no longer appealing.  Of course, some Misha fans are A-OK with that artistic injustice because “Misha would love it because he is not a bigot”.  It has nothing to do with bigotry.  Sometimes, it is best to leave out the sex scene rather than make a select few happy.  Slash sex was never meant to be realistic sex.  It is, after all, written generally by straight females for straight females.  Throw in the bi females as well.  Its fantastical, as it should be. 

In early slash stories that I read, back in the lord of the ring days, ukes came the way women do, without a hand on them.  Why?  Because that is how women usually orgasm.  They write what they know.  However, young sexually inactive girls, listening to Misha and his LGBT slash tirades, endeavor to make stories “accurate”.  So now we have lots of young girls, growing up with a better understanding of gay sex than of straight sex.  I have even heard a few saying that they wanted to be gay men.  Misha is interfering with a natural process and confusing teenagers, which bites because as it is, sexuality is so confusing for young people.  Proper slash or classic slash is an artistic manifestation of straight sex.  The drivel that we have now is political correct, inclusive nonsense that gay men didn’t ask for and women don’t feel overwhelming enthusiastic about.  I don’t know what the ramifications of that is going to be other than women deserting slash fiction. 

I would like to point out at this juncture, that as far as SPN is concerned, Misha is a culprit.  But there were one more culprit.  There was one who communicated with general slash fans around the early 2000s.  His name was minotaur.  And he tried to school slashers on how to write gay sex correctly because they weren’t doing a good enough job for his liking.  He had no business doing that.  It has nothing to do with him.  Slash fiction is for woman.  Gay fiction or bara is for men. 

For Supernatural, I like J2 alternate universe.  There aren't very many other people left to love on this show.  They are all back stabbers.  If I write a story, Jensen is always the baby.  Baby is the word I used to use during my Lord of the Rings days, before I realized that the word uke existed.  Its not the correct way to write Jensen.  It is my favorite way of writing Jensen.  I like Jensen as the baby.  When I write a story where I need the baby to be a kidnap victim or abused stepchild or ethereal unattainable prince, I like to see Jensen in that role.  It has nothing to do with him.  It is how I like to write.  Its about my perception.  He is just a muse.  

I like seeing Jared as the daddy.  Go ahead and laugh.  I still smirk about this embarrassing word that I used before I know seme existed.  I like when Jared as the savior.  I cant see him as a baby because he is so fricking huge and tall, with the rippling muscles, expansive torso and broad shoulders.  Its is, for me at least, too easy to write him as a ferocious warrior, then as an abused baby locked away in a dungeon. 

P.S.:  THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE JARED GIFS. 

The Jensen and Jared in my stories are mere avatar of the real actors.  They are manifestations of my sexuality and what I like sexually.  They have nothing to do with the real actors.  That is what hellers fail to understand.  They think that whatever they read in a destiel story is a manifestation of the truth.  That is why destiel and cockles stories are not imaginative.  J2 stories are so diverse because the actors themselves, despite being slash friendly, have never interfered with the genre.  They allowed the art form to grow at its own steady pace, organically.

Only the destiel fans do that now.  Because Misha turned an innocent art form into a drug, and he is their only dealer.  And you know how druggies love their dealers.  Reader opinions matter but not about who should be the baby and who should be the daddy.  You can't tell others how to navigate their sexual expression.  That is what Misha fails to understand.  Misha tries to show that he is an alpha.  So he is, essentially telling his fans what to write.  That is why Cockles stories are one trick ponies.  Artistic growth is completely stunted.  They are mostly High School AUs with the Jock Dean and Nerd Cas falling in love.  Even Twist and Shout was like that.  Except that Cas died in the end.  From AIDS.  No wonder gay men hate slash fans.  AIDS has no place in a slash story.  Its not a trope or a fetish.  Have some respect.  And who made hellers think slash was a gay thing?  Misha.  So blame him. 

Mpreg is proof that slash is a female art form.  The only other people who write mpreg now, write it as a creative exercise.  I used to feel embarrassed by mpreg especially if men found out about it.  But now I am fiercely protective of it.  Because its one of the last remnants of female sexuality in slash fiction. You don’t see mpreg popping up as frequently in bara, because gay men don’t fall pregnant and therefore don’t have a natural maternal desire.  Mpreg is big in SPN.  The brothers, Cas, even Kevin have gotten knocked up.  SPN is like a regular maternity ward.  I realize that Misha might not know anything about mpreg because he hasn’t spoken about it in his panels.  If this is true, then I hope it stays that way.  I don't want Misha to ruin mpreg, because imagine poor Jensen dealing with that. 

I was under the assumption that Misha doesn't know what tin hatting is.  I assumed that he thought Cockles is just an RPS pairing.  His talks about Cockles has started to make me think otherwise.  Misha doesn't realize that he is playing with fire.  And the day the penny drops for Jensen, he is going to be furious.  He is going to realize Misha is the reason his and Jared's reputation are completely tarnished.  He is going to realize Misha is the reason he and Jared get so many threats.  That is why, I wish Misha will stop talking about Cockles.  Just his interference, by itself, has turned his destiel shippers into a militant group.  Notice how his sastiel fans don't do that.  It is because he doesn't indulge sastiel.  In other words, he neglects the expendable fans, because he assumes, incorrectly, that destiel gives him more clout. 

Because he is schooled hellers for the past ten years, they are brainwashed into making slash fiction something it isn't.  It is not an expression of gay rights.  Its not a sexuality and its not about making the writers do what you want.  Even having a civil discussion about slash fiction is hampered because the answer to anything, from that camp, is usually “Well, Misha doesn’t have a problem with it”.  Misha is not your father.  You don’t have to see slash fiction or anything else through the Misha Collins lens.  Use your own common sense.  Normal destiel fans understand this.  Why cant hellers?

You don't need actor validation to enjoy slash fiction.  In fact, in my ideal world, I would hope that the actors never heard about slash fiction.  Personally, I find it mortifying.  The actors [decent ones anyway] are not there to fulfill your sexual needs.  They are not sex dolls.  They are only muses because you love them.  That doesn't mean they have to approve of your fetishes.  The proper definition of slash fiction should be:  Slash fiction is an escapist fantasy platform showcasing stories and artwork, by women for women, about male subjects in a romantic setting.  Leaving out the words “homoerotic” does away with multiple confusions, because slash is not gay porn.  This is what Misha believes and his own shipper fans got angry with him for calling destiel pseudo-porn.  Misha researched slash fiction on Wikipedia, like the complete idiot that he is, and it gave him biased, incorrect information.  It is the first time I actually saw destiel fans questioning Misha about this subject.  Even they acknowledge he doesn't know what he is talking about. 

Misha Collins is singlehandedly ruining something he had no business getting involved in.  I don’t really bother about what minotaur did to other slash fans, because originally it didn’t disturb my little corner of the internet.  Misha had ruined slash in this fandom.  When slash was true to itself, in the��classical sense, women were still honest with themselves about their sexuality.  Bullying was infrequent and slash fiction was not ruined beyond repair.  Gay men weren't getting infuriated because women were fetishizing their lifestyle.  Now the hellers are bleeding into other fandoms and influencing their thought processes.  Misha's rotten influence has had a domino effect.  I really wish he would read this and stop.

[iezzern-ao3]

The Poison you call Love

Read on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas

Relationships: Azriel/Cassian/Lucien, Cassian/Lucien (ACoTaR), Azriel/Lucien (ACoTaR), (past) Lucien/Tamlin

Characters: Lucien Vanserra, Azriel (ACoTaR), Cassian (ACoTaR), Tamlin (ACoTaR)

Additional Tags: Friendship, or lack of really, Tamlin is mean but what is new, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, FYI some small Nesta hate if you squint, This is not a Nesta positive space, Smut in Ch. 2, bc i couldn't help myself, Threesome - M/M/M, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, mild dirty talk, Double Penetration

Language: English

Lucien knows that he'll never get peace if he doesn't clear things up with Tamlin. So he tries, for both of them

The Spring Court is falling apart.

Lucien sees it the moment he arrives. The numerous roses and violets are slowly withering away; the previously green plains are a sick shade of yellow. The bark on the tall, rich trees is crumbling to dust. The stench of the dying nature is sickening; choking. Lucien almost gags from it. It’s unnaturally silent—not even a gust of wind. No laughing; no talking; no sign of people anywhere.

The Illyrian that winnowed him in notices it, too, his eyebrows raising. “You sure you want to do this?” he asks, laying a protective hand on Lucien’s lower back. “I’ll be fine, Cass,” the male answers, “I need to do this”

“For yourself or for him?”

“For both of us”

Cassian snorts but doesn’t push it further. He steps closer to Lucien, pressing his front to Lucien’s back, his hand moving from his back to his hip. His hot breath tickles the back of Lucien’s neck, as his hair is up in a braided crown. The movement speaks of intimacy and affection. Cassian closes his eyes and inhales Lucien’s subtle scent. “You don’t have to go alone,” he mutters, his lips ghosting on Lucien’s skin.

“Yes, I do”

“Az would never forgive me if I let you get hurt”

“Good thing I can take care of myself, then”

Cassian huffs a laugh, placing a light kiss on his collarbone before drawing back. “No more than twenty minutes,” he drawls. Lucien nods in answer and starts walking. Cassian’s eyes never leave him, his body forever tense. Lucien tries to ignore it but can’t help the unsure smile he throws over his shoulder. The hot air is burning against the Illyrian leathers, places sweat upon his brow. At least, that’s the excuse he makes for himself. He needs to do this, he reminds himself, he needs to bring closure to this whole affair. The mansion comes into view faster than he wants it to.

That is falling apart, as well—overgrown by ivy and roses and trees, the smooth walls almost gone. There is no beauty left in those roses; just cruelty. His steps falter slightly as he passes through the gates. All he can remember is the disappointment and disgust upon Tamlin’s face when he’d seen the Illyrian leathers the last time. What would he think now?

Lucien has told himself over and over again that he doesn’t care about what Tamlin thinks of him. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t worth it. He’s his own person and Tamlin won’t get to say what’s wrong with him and not. He won’t be ruled by misplaced loyalty and guilt. And still, he can’t get that face out of his mind. Can’t stop wondering how Tamlin will react. How disappointed he’ll be. How hurt he’ll be. Lucien’s mind keeps fighting itself.

Why should you care about Tamlin’s feelings? Because he was your only friend.

Why should Tamlin’s opinion matter to you? Because you used to care so much.

Why do you crave Tamlin’s approval after all this time? Because you used to love him.

The doors to the mansion are gaping wide. There’s a darkness within so strong that Lucien can’t see much. Lucien starts on the stairs, his hands shaking now. He can’t calm his nerves; nor his breath. He’s in panic. He’s about to turn. About to run back into Cassian’s arms and beg him to take him back to the Night Court—back to Azriel. He takes one, small step back before his resolve turns to stone again.

He won’t let himself run away now. If he doesn’t do it now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to. So he slows his breath, clenches his hands into fists, and starts walking again. He walks through the doors and into the dark abyss. Lucien never really noticed before, but the constant scent of roses and green; the constant green and red and pink, is choking and it washes over him in waves. He speeds up his walk, wants to find Tamlin before it drowns him.

Lucien reaches the throne room far too early for his liking. He pushes the door open and steps inside. The throne room is overgrown, much more than the rest of the court. He swallows and forces his eyes to go to the other male in the room. Tamlin is lounging on his throne, his eyes lazily moving from whatever he was looking at, to Lucien. He looks broken. His eyes are rimmed red; his clothes are ruffled; his posture is lazy and sloppy, so unlike the Tamlin Lucien is used to. Lucien’s throat dries up. A long silence stretches between them. “Tamlin,” he says, his voice raspy.

Tamlin doesn’t answer for a long time, his face in a mask of contempt. “Fox,” he finally drawls, and it makes Lucien’s breath catch. He doesn’t know how to continue the conversation, so he just stands there, holding Tamlin’s gaze. Tamlin is the one to break it, his eyes trailing Lucien’s body; his clothes. “Come here to show your new allegiance?” he spits, and it takes all of Lucien’s restrains to not sigh. “You know, it’s cruel of you, to come crawling back when you’re obviously too good for the Spring Court now”

Lucien takes a deep, shaky breath. “Tamlin, I just want to talk. Clarify things,” he says, taking a few steps forward. “Of course, you do,” the other male answers, “There’s nothing to clarify, fox. You left me. You left me for Rhysand and his court. You fled with Feyre to…”

“Because Feyre offered me kindness, Tamlin,” Lucien interrupts in a growl, suddenly angry, “A kindness you hadn’t shown me in a very long time”

“Why Rhysand?” Tamlin raises from his throne, his voice laced with desperation. “Why did you choose him?”

“It wasn’t just him,” Lucien mutters, his eyes finding the floor. It takes Tamlin one beat of silence to understand. “The Illyrians?” he asks, quiet now. Lucien can only offer a small nod.

After the war with Hybern, he’d struggled to find his place in the Night Court. After some time, he’d given up trying to build a relationship with Elain. It just wouldn’t work out. He’d skirted around the outside of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, not trying to fit himself in but not trying to shove himself out, either. He’d accepted the position of emissary without thinking much about it, just going along with what everyone else wanted from him. Then Azriel had started paying attention to him. Small conversations and fleeting touches and long looks.

It had woken something in him. A need for being appreciated. A need for being wanted. In the short weeks that Ariel’s attention had been on him, he’d senselessly fallen in love with the Illyrian male. He’d become hyperaware of Azriel’s every action around him. Every touch; every glance; every goddamn time he licked his lips. And then, one night, Azriel had kissed him and his world had shifted. And then, after some time, Cassian had come tumbling into their arms—after he’d decided to stop wasting his time on someone who obviously didn’t deserve him.

Tamlin lets out a low laugh; vicious in its tone. “I never thought you would sink so low as to roll over and spread for low-born bastards.” Tamlin's sneer turns downright cruel. “Maybe you've been lower. Do they enjoy you on your knees?”

Hot, choking shame washes over Lucien's body before he can control it, his skin flushing red. He won’t let Tamlin win this; won’t let him see him stutter and blush. “If I remember correctly,” he says, keeping his voice cool, “You were the one who enjoyed that”

It was something he’d never admitted to anyone except Azriel and Cassian. Those years before Feyre; even before Amarantha. The times when Tamlin didn’t have anyone to take his sexual frustration out on except Lucien. And Lucien had let Tamlin have his way with him, like a fool in love. It had never been about feelings, as Lucien had tried to convince himself back in those days. Tamlin had beckoned him over for a quick fuck because that was the only thing Lucien had to offer him in terms of affection.

“How could I not?” Tamlin's expression hadn't faltered, not even for a second, “When you were so eager to please; like a bitch in heat”

If the scent hadn't given it away already, his words do. Tamlin is dead drunk. His words always turn hurtful when he drowns himself in liquor. Lucien can’t help the small flash of sympathy that rises in his chest. Tamlin’s in such a bad place, and he’d helped in bringing him to this place. But those words, the implications of them. “I was never your bitch,” he sneers. Tamlin just laughs in return. “Of course you were, fox. My personal little bitch”

“Tamlin.” Lucien feels like his voice is a weak whisper, not able to reach the other male completely. “You don't mean that”

Tamlin's eyes rake over his body, cold—but still hungry. Lucien stares back. A few years ago, that look would have made Lucien squirm in submission. Tamlin considers him for a moment before his eyes soften. Something in him breaks. “You're right,” he breathes, “I don't”

And there are tears sliding down his cheeks. “I gave you everything, Lucien—” the first time he’s used Lucien’s name “—I protected you and took care of you and I was your friend and you still left me. Why was I not good enough? Why did you and Feyre leave me? Why does everyone leave me?”

His voice raises at the end—angry; sad; heartbroken. “Tam.” Lucien tries to keep his tone soft, as he moves closer to him “Tam, it was never about you not being good enough. It was about you being too much”

Tamlin doesn’t react to his words, just stares him down with an ice-cold stare. So Lucien tries to continue. “You wanted to protect what you loved, I understand that, but…but you went too far. You can’t protect everyone on your own. You can’t try to control others in an attempt to keep them safe. I know you think you did the right thing, Tam, but to me and Feyre…it was like a prison. We needed a choice”

Tamlin startles, his eyes going unfocused. “I—I never meant to…”

“But you did.” Lucien can’t help his quick response. He so desperately wants Tamlin to understand, but with the state he’s in…he doesn’t know if he’ll reach through. Tamlin’s face twists in anger before going unfocused again. He takes deep breaths and by the time he’s finished calming himself down, Lucien has come to a stop right in front of him. “Tam.” His voice breaks. The male in mention shifts his attention back to Lucien. He reaches out and brushes a few stray strands of hair from Lucien’s face, letting his fingers trail down to his cheek. “I hope they treat you right—those Illyrians,” he whispers, “You were always too good for me”

Now, Lucien’s cheeks are streamed with silver, as well.

“Leave,” Tamlin continues, “I need to be alone”

And so Lucien does.

Read Chapter 2 HERE