#I'm not a fan of writing smut

[mangostarjam]

declarations (alternate version) — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, use of foods as nicknames, childhood best friends dynamic, reader wears a dress and heels, oral (f!receiving), 3k words — the first bit is the same as the original but it does deviate

"Why do I need to wear a dress?"

Hoshina Soshiro glances up from where he's lounging on your bed. You've already pulled on the dress, of course, and he watches with probably way too much interest as you tug and adjust the way it drapes along your body. It's pretty. It fits perfectly, though you have no idea when Soshiro learned your measurements enough to show up at your door with such a gorgeous dress hanging from his fingers. Maybe he got them from Okonogi-chan?

"You'll be walking 'round with me and the Captain, egg tart, so you've gotta look the part," he says idly, though you can feel the burn of his stare along the newly exposed skin of your back. "And don't forget the heels!"

You glance at the cute, strappy heels he left by your mirror and frown. "If I wear those, I'll be taller than you, Soshiro-kun."

"Aw, that doesn't matter," Soshiro says. He sits up and you look away from the flex of his incredibly defined abdominal muscles beneath his compression shirt, which he apparently wears all the time, even under his formal dress uniform with all its tassels and buttons.

God. Embarrassing. You really need to get your staring issue under control.

"I can fight whoever looks at ya."

"Wha— ?" Heat sears across your face as you splutter and spin around to face him. The skirt of your dress twirls with the movement and you catch his gaze snapping down to your thighs. "Why would you need to fight anyone?"

"Hm?" You take a step back as he gets up and stalks over to you, holding your breath subconsciously as he kneels at your feet and takes one of the heels in hand. Your room suddenly feels warmer, the air hushed, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in the entire universe. Soshiro chuckles quietly and shoots you a grin that makes your knees feel wobbly.

"Soshiro-kun?"

"Well, 'course I'm gonna fight for ya, apricot," Soshiro says. You flinch as he reaches out to grip your calf, the rough callouses on his fingers scraping lightly as he lifts your leg and slides your foot into the shoe. "You're my best friend, yeah?"

And I'm just a simple man in love goes unspoken as he carefully ties the silk around your ankle to keep the shoe in place. You wobble a bit at the balance and he glances up from beneath his violet bangs. "Hold onto my shoulders," he says quietly, reaching for your other leg. "Don't worry, I've got you."

"S-Soshiro-kun, I can put these on myself," you mumble, heat flaring up your spine at the careful pressure of his fingers on your ankle. He lifts your leg and you grab abruptly at his shoulders, fingers digging into the thick muscle there as you regain your footing with his support.

Soshiro lets out a breath. "I know," he says simply. "But I wanna do it."

Is this what men do when they're in love? You wouldn't know — the only man in your life you've ever cared about is right in front of you, and he's refused to elaborate on his strange statement no matter how many times you've asked. You have a feeling he means it, though.

Like, really means it. You love Soshiro — of course you do. You've always loved him. But lately it's felt… different.

Still comfortable. He's still your biggest supporter and vice versa, and he still knows exactly how to cheer you up and make you laugh. You know all his ticks and tells, and you take great pride in taking care of him while he's looking out for everyone else.

But at the same time… it's uncomfortable.

These little touches — they're new. The way his gaze lingers on your body is also new. Or… maybe you've just never noticed before. It's not a bad thing. But it makes you feel strange and fluttery inside and you catch yourself daydreaming about what it'd be like to actually get a hickey from Soshiro. Your best friend.

You stare down at the top of his head and try to repress a shiver as he skims up your legs to where your skirt rests against your thighs. His touch leaves behind a trail of warmth that burrows deep. "Um— ?"

"Ya look real pretty like this," he says. You're still holding onto his shoulders as he rises from his crouch, your entire body hot and hyperaware of how close he's standing once he straightens. "I could really just eat ya up." The smirk on his face makes your heart thump painfully in your chest, but he doesn't give you a chance to question it before he's grabbing your hands and spinning you around in a little twirl.

"S-Soshiro!"

You let out a little yelp as the room suddenly turns sideways, your center of gravity abruptly gone as Soshiro scoops you off your feet with one strong arm behind your back and the other beneath your knees. You throw your arms around his neck in a desperate move to keep from falling, though you know he'd never drop you.

Soshiro looks down at you with a glint in his eye. "Maybe I will."

"You'll… what?" you ask, breathless. He looks… hungry. Something about that look makes your stomach clench. "Soshiro-kun?"

"As your best friend, I think I've gotta do a lil inspection," Soshiro says brightly. He carries you over to your bed effortlessly, laying you down with a care that makes you burn up in a mixture of embarrassment and want.

You want… something. Soshiro gently detangles your hands from behind his neck and brings them up above your shoulders, gripping both wrists in one of his hands. His other hand is planted by your shoulder to keep from squishing you, though he keeps his balance with a knee between your thighs. "What…?"

"Just checking," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. You can feel his breaths on your lips and you strain a little against his hold, wondering if he can feel your pulse beating rabbit-fast in your wrists. His hand is trembling, though you can't imagine it's from the strain of holding himself up. "Can I?"

What… what is he asking?

Does it matter? It's Soshiro —

"Yeah," you breathe. "Go ahead."

His lips brush yours in a whisper, an exhaled sigh, a pressure as light as a butterfly. You make a funny sound and he grins as he skips down to your neck, pressing a firmer kiss there at your pulse.

"You do taste good, chestnut," he mumbles, just before you feel the sharp nip of his canines pinching your skin. You yelp in surprise and he chuckles, brushing his lips across the spot in apology.

"What did I say about food nicknames," you manage to gasp out, blinking blearily as he rises back up to face you. The tops of his ears and the arch of his cheekbones are painted a charming pink, but his eyes are serious as he meets your gaze.

"Are you good?" Soshiro asks.

Are you? You do feel good — better than good. The way your heart is racing would probably raise some eyebrows in a medical ward and your brain feels like mush, but. You've had your share of meaningless crushes — puppy love, infatuation — but none of it ever really mattered because you've always had Soshiro.

None of it ever felt like this.

Oh.

"I'm good," you whisper.

"And this is okay?" he asks. "I'm not — I told ya I don't mess around when it comes to you."

"I'm not messing around either," you grin up at him, feeling suddenly buoyant as the pieces click into place. "I'm yours, Soshiro."

Your best friend looks at you for a moment, but whatever he sees in your expression makes him laugh — a rough burst of sound punched out of his chest — before he leans down to kiss you again.

You can feel him smiling into the kiss.

It's a little awkward — he bumps your nose and you can't keep from grinning, either, so the kiss turns into several kisses, the smooth press of his lips against yours sending heat curling through your veins as his kisses get deeper, hungrier. He tilts his head and finally lets go of your wrists to grasp your chin, moving you to get the angle just right, though his careful intentions go up in smoke when you reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug.

He pulls back with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown, panting as if he's just finished fighting off a kaiju. His voice cracks as he murmurs your name.

"Yeah?" you lean up to brush your lips against his jaw, admiring the strain of his neck as he huffs. "You're so pretty, Soshiro-kun."

It takes a second, but Soshiro's next breath is a sharp inhale as he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress.

Then he whines.

Oh, god.

The sound seems to startle both of you, but he recovers first, dipping down to kiss you senseless as the ache in your core intensifies. He's solid and warm and heavy on top of you, his hands burning along your arms and sides and skimming over the neckline of your dress before he seems to settle on gripping your hips as he bullies his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out is loud in the thick air of your room, but the groan he lets out when you squirm against the solid, unyielding length of him is even louder.

Soshiro moves back to pressing hard kisses to your neck and exposed shoulders, panting hard as you whimper with every stinging nip of his teeth. "You're gorgeous," he murmurs, "you're so fucking perfect, I can't —"

"S-Soshiro," you whine, wiggling your hips in an effort to chase the electric sparks of pleasure rising with every sharp, aborted thrust of his hips. "What's — why're you —"

"I'm tryin' not to cum in my pants," he grunts, fingers digging hard into your waist to still you. You sob at the loss of friction and Soshiro huffs. "Fuckin' hell — you're so — but I can't be walking 'round the party all dirty."

Your eyes snap open at the reminder and you shove at the shoulders you were clinging to for dear life a moment ago. "The party!"

"Yeah, the party," Soshiro laughs, grabbing one of your hands. He presses a kiss to the leaping pulse in your wrist. "Didja forget, pumpkin?"

The tender affection somehow makes you warm, even as his hips grind slowly against your core to make you burn. Your legs, which you hadn't even registered moving, drop to the sides, sending your dress to pool further up your thighs and exposing the thin fabric of your panties. Soshiro glances down at the movement, but you can only see the way his lashes flutter at the sight before he's grinding his clothed cock against you again.

A muscle in his sharp jaw ticks as he glances back up at you. "Ya look real good," he says, "and I'm tryin' to do this right, but —"

One thing about being best friends for your whole lives means you can tell when he's holding something back.

One thing about becoming lovers with your best friend is that now you can see he's been holding back from this.

"You can't go into the party like this," you point out. Soshiro laughs, a strangled sound.

"We're not havin' a quickie as our first time," he says firmly. His expression lights up. "But I did promise an inspection, didn't I?"

"What're you — Soshiro!"

He moves too quickly for you to react, pressing another hard kiss to your lips — his tongue dipping in to draw out a startled moan — before he's suddenly kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you closer by your legs spread on either side of him. "The heels look nice," he says conversationally, dragging his hands up your calves.

You suddenly feel over-sensitive, your nerve endings straining into his touch as he leans forward to drag his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Ah— Soshiro, that tickles!"

"They make your legs look good," he continues, as if you hadn't spoken. You raise up on your elbows to glare down at him as he brushes his lips featherlight against your thigh. Soshiro smirks and turns his head to nip the skin there, kissing and sucking along your thigh as he slings your leg over his shoulder for easier access.

Oh, shit.

The whine you let out would be embarrassing except that Soshiro mutters a curse and shoots you a look that makes your core clench tight. You reach for his hands, desperate for some leverage or an anchor, and he lets you take one of his hands but uses the other to hike your other leg over his shoulder.

"This is cute," Soshiro remarks, looking intently at your panties and the damp spot clearly evident even in the dim light. "Were they expensive?"

What is he asking? Why would it matter when the only thing you can focus on is the incessant ache in your core, inches away from his touch, heartbreakingly empty and wet and hot —

Soshiro rips your panties with one hand and tosses the flimsy scraps of cloth aside, exposing your fluttering core to his hungry gaze. You shift desperately, torn between wanting and wanting to hide, but before you can voice a request Soshiro dips in and licks you.

"Oh, fuck —" you moan, collapsing back on the bed as your hips buck up into the friction. Soshiro licks at you sloppily, digging his tongue into every inch and fold of you as he groans.

"All this for me?" he murmurs, catching your eye as you clutch desperately at the blankets. "Only for me, right, melon drop?"

You nod shakily as he gently kisses the throbbing bundle of nerves at your core. "I'm yours, Soshiro," you gasp. The waves of pleasure building in your body are frightening, your heart pounding hard, but you can't help tilting your hips closer to him. "Please, Soshiro — I… I can't —"

"Hah — fuck you," Soshiro groans. "Hold on to me."

You barely get a moment to register his command before he dives back in, targeting your clit and sucking on it as you sob with pleasure. White hot electricity races through your veins as you scrabble desperately for something to hold on to, grabbing at the purple strands of his hair and rocking your hips as he devours you.

You feel the burning touch of his finger as he drags it along your lower lips, making you suddenly hyper aware of how empty you feel. Your insides clench futilely, your fingers twisting into his hair painfully as you moan and beg. "Soshiro, Soshiro please —"

You can hear the squelch of your wetness as he finally slides his finger inside you, poking and prodding your walls until he presses against something that makes you see stars. Your back bows off the bed as you pant and squirm.

"There ya go," he grunts, pulling back to fix you with a burning red stare. "Let go for me, honey. I've got you."

You clench around his finger as he adds another, the intrusion unfamiliar but welcome, pleasure spiraling and spiking through you as he flicks his thumb over your clit and presses against that spot just right. It's — it's too much — too overwhelming —

Soshiro sucks your clit between his lips again and you shoot over the edge with a shout.

"Good fucking girl," Soshiro murmurs. You can barely hear him beyond the fuzzy aftershocks, but the words bleed warmth into your face as you melt into the mattress. He carefully licks you clean, chuckling when you whine at the overstimulation.

"Soshiro?"

"Yeah?" He climbs back over you, the lower half of his face shiny with wetness. It should be gross, but you're so boneless you can't even bring yourself to care as he leans down to kiss you, tongue tangling with yours as you moan at the taste of yourself.

"Where'd you… where'd you learn how to do that?" you mumble tiredly.

"In my dreams," Soshiro says, laughing when you pout at him. "I've been dreaming 'bout you for ages, y'know. But most of the technical stuff was from locker talk with the guys."

You nod and glance down, but the angle is awkward and you can't quite see —

"Ah, don't worry 'bout me," Soshiro ducks his head and you stare at the pink flush rising up his neck. "I'm gonna hafta meet you at the ballroom, hazelnut. I need a change of pants."

"Oh," you nod, wide eyed and blushing as he snorts. "Sorry?"

"Don't apologize for bein' a dream come true," he says. "But we should really go soon, or the captain'll have both our heads."

Soshiro helps you stand on wobbly legs as you regain your balance on heels, kneeling to smooth your dress back down your thighs. "Wait — what about my panties?"

He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Right, I'll help ya with that."

Soshiro's touch is warm this time, not burning hot, and the kisses he presses along your thighs are more ticklish than anything. He grins up at you as you giggle. "Will we tell Captain Ashiro after the party tonight?"

He rises and his gaze goes to your neck and shoulders, exposed by the straps of your dress. Something sharp and pleased settles in his smile. "I don't think we'll need to worry 'bout it. Any fool who gets close to ya when you're marked up all pretty for me is askin' for trouble."

… What?

You look past him to the mirror and gasp. All those little bites from earlier are blooming pink and purple beneath your skin. Soshiro laughs, swoops forward to kiss your scolding right out of your mouth, and pulls away only after you've melted back into his arms, pliant and breathless.

"You passed inspection, by the way," Soshiro adds, smiling a little lopsided and fond. "Congratulations on becoming the Third Division Vice Captain's fiancée."

Your eyes widen. "Fiancée?"

"Oh, too soon? We can start off with 'girlfriend' first."

"Soshiro…"

"What? A guy's got dreams, alright?"

You laugh. "You didn't even propose!"

"Alright, fine," he kisses you again and you beam, delight and happiness swooping through you at how easy it all feels. "Keep that third finger on your left hand empty for me, apricot."

"It's a promise."

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 22

Word Count: 3.1K Warnings: depictions of violence, mentions of blood

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: falling back in love with this story 🤭 just need the same motivation for my Criminal Minds fic 🫣

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That was it.

That moment was either kill or be killed.

Realization dawned upon everyone at the same time, the air in the room shifting as everyone understood what needed to be done. Even the Kanima had his own rules to carry out. Whether they wanted to or not, they had to fight Jackson, and someone had to come out of it alive.

Isaac’s grip tightened around (Y/N) as the creature unhanded Allison, its sight set on the other Argent girl. Meanwhile, her father stood between her and the creature in a protective stance. Even without a loaded weapon, he would not let more harm come to his daughter.  It was clear Gerard had given Jackson a quiet command and he couldn’t ignore it.

But once free, Allison reared back and elbowed the Kanima in the face, breaking his gaze before he pushed her to the ground and out of the way. His eyes fell back on (Y/N), a murderous glint in his irises. He was tasked to kill the girl, and he wouldn’t stop until he completed his goal.

Suddenly, Stiles’ powder blue Jeep crashed through the wall, colliding straight with the Kanima. “Did I get him?” he asked, his eyes tightly shut.

His question was answered as Jackson jumped onto the car, scaring him and Lydia out of the vehicle. Stiles ran to Scott while Lydia faced the lizard version of her ex-boyfriend. As scared as she was, she knew what she had to do, obviously aware since before she came upon the creature. She dug into her pocket for a key, her head facing away from the Kanima, too afraid of his form to stare and bracing for his potential strike.

“Jackson,” she muttered as she showed him the key, stopping him dead in his tracks.

The creature’s eyes focused on the item. Suddenly, it was the most important thing on his mind. He no longer felt the uncontrollable need to kill; there was only him and his memories. It wasn’t the key, of course not, but what that little gold thing meant.

Right before everyone’s eyes, the scales started to disappear from Jackson’s body, revealing the boy under the murderous lizard. Lydia had always been the answer to their Kanima problem; they just didn’t know.

The boy stumbled back as his body continued to revert, and in the blink of an eye, Derek sprung from the ground toward him, and Peter appeared from his back, and they both dug their claws into Jackson’s stomach and back, respectively. They raised him off the ground, sinking deeper before setting him back down. Blood pooled in his mouth, and his stance faltered as weakness took over him.

Lydia was quick to help him stand, her teary eyes focused only on him. “Do you…,” he tried to speak. “Do you still…?”

“I do,” she whimpered as she nodded. “I do still love you.”

The redhead kept repeating the words as a mantra as Jackson closed his eyes and his body grew limp. They both fell to the ground as the weight took over the girl, but she never let him go. Instead, she cradled his body close to hers, whispering her goodbyes to the boy who had been her first love.

All their friends could do was stand and stare as they watched her lay him gently on the ground, witnessing the last traces of the Kanima disappear from Jackson’s face. They had gone so far and done so much, only for Derek to get what he wanted in the end.

But they were in Beacon Hills. There, sometimes, the dead didn’t stay dead for long.

As they worried about Gerard’s sudden disappearance and Lydia turned her back to Jackson, the sound of nails scraping the concrete echoed through the room. He raised from the ground and revealed the most unexpected of turns. The bite had taken, and Jackson had finally gotten what he wanted. He was finally a werewolf. And, most of all, he was alive.

“Don’t mean to break this beautiful moment here,” (Y/N) muttered. Lydia and Jackson had shared in an intimate embrace as they celebrated his reanimation and her confessions. “Still sort of bleeding out here.”

“Oh my god, (Y/N),” Allison said as realization dawned upon her. “I-I…”

“You can save your guilt for a later time,” the girl groaned. “Right now, I need to stop the bleeding.”

“Here, munchkin.” Henry ripped two strips from the bottom of his t-shirt, using them as a tourniquet for her leg and shoulder. “That should keep you stable until we get home and get you stitched up.”

“(Y/N), I’m…”

“It’s fine, Allison,” (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. “We can talk later. I just… I need to get out of here.”

“Take my car,” Chris interjected. “I’ll go back home with Allison.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, shame eating away at her mind. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

(Y/N) started to limp away with the help of her father and Isaac, ignoring the burning gaze of Derek. She could tell he wanted to reach out, to be the one helping her to the van. But he had burned that bridge with a torch and gasoline. If he ever planned on rebuilding it, he’d have to do it from the ground up.

The girl groaned with every step she took, her limbs aching and pulsing. Isaac helped her into the SUV, clicking her seatbelt for her, careful to avoid her injuries. “I can go with you,” he whispered. “Meet you at the house?”

“You should stay with Derek for now,” she said. “My mom’s gonna probably be at the house and Erica and Boyd have to be there already. I’ll send them over as soon as I can—given they actually went there.”

“But…”

“I’ll be okay, Isaac,” she assured with a weak smile. “I’ll see you later today, okay?”

“She’s in good hands, kid,” Henry said as he sat on the driver’s side of the car. “We’ll let you know when you can sneak back into the house.” 

“You, uh, you know about that, sir?” 

“Not much happens in my house that I don’t know about,” he chuckled. “And I know Brody is not the one eating the food in my kitchen.” 

“Oh, uh, um...” 

“It’s okay, Isaac,” Henry smiled. “I don’t mind. There’s always space for anyone that needs it at my house. You can stay over any time—except when my wife is at home. She’s not as generous.” 

“Uh, thank you, sir,” Isaac mumbled. “I appreciate it.” 

“Guys, this is a beautiful moment,” (Y/N) interrupted, “but still bleeding here.”

“Right,” her father chuckled. “We’ll let you know when you can come over.” 

The car ride back home was quiet at first. Henry sped through the streets, rushing to get to his house and take care of his daughter. He knew her condition wasn’t worrisome, but it didn’t stop the concern that flooded his mind as (Y/N) grimaced and groaned from the pain. But he knew all she needed was a bit of conversation to distract her mind.

“So, you and Isaac seem close,” Henry teased. “Is he the boy that had you questioning our family’s beliefs?”

“What? No,” she quickly replied. “Isaac and I are just friends, dad.”

“Does he know that?”

“Dad…”

“I’m just saying, kid,” he chuckled. “He seems to really care about you.”

“And I care about him, but we’re just friends,” (Y/N) assured. “It didn’t really work out with the person I was talking about that day. He, uh, wasn’t who I thought he was.”

Henry turned to look at his daughter. She no longer was the little girl who could barely see above the dashboard when in the front seat, or the preteen who would live with headphones on her ears. (Y/N) was closer to adulthood than she was to her younger years, even if he couldn’t think of her as anything other than his baby girl. She was growing, and with that came many challenges they would have to face together.

“Is it Derek?” the man continued to inquire. “Gerard mentioned something about it tonight.”

(Y/N)’s gaze fell to her leg, fiddling with the soaked fabric. “Yeah,” she sighed defeatedly. “I mean, nothing really happened between us, but it still ended.”

“Derek Hale, huh? He’s been quite the character in our family’s story.”

“Yeah, sure know how to pick ‘em,” the girl chuckled awkwardly. “Didn’t even get to become a problem for the Argents. Over before we even began.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Henry asked. “You don’t have to, of course. But it can help you make sense of everything.”

“I don’t… he just said something that he can’t take back,” she shrugged, sinking into the seat. (Y/N) considered telling her father the entire story. From the dreams to the agreement she had made with Derek, she wanted him to know everything. But if he could keep his secrets, so could she. At least until they all erupted to the surface. “We just don’t work, I guess. No point in really delving into the whole thing.”

“Well, I’m here if you wanna talk about it, kid,” he said as he killed the car’s engine. “Let me help you out.”

Henry rounded the car and took his daughter in his arms, carrying her inside.

The house was quiet and dark, save for a light in the kitchen. There, Rebecca was serving a wine glass for herself. As (Y/N) came into view, the glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the ground, spilling liquid as red as the blood that stained her daughter’s skin.

“What happened?!” she exclaimed as she ran to her daughter. “I thought you were supposed to stay away from this.”

“She wasn’t gonna work with the hunters,” Henry said as he set (Y/N) on a stool by the kitchen island. “Doesn’t mean she wasn’t gonna help her friends.” 

“Did they do this to you, (Y/N)?” Rebecca worried. “Did those things hurt you?”

“No, mom,” (Y/N) scoffed. “This is the work of Allison. You know, your niece who was hellbent on getting the local pack to avenge her mother. Yeah, she did this.”

“No… Allison wouldn’t.”

 “She did,” Henry confirmed. “Gerard was real proud.”

“Come on, she’s family,” the woman continued to argue. “Allison wouldn’t do that to you.”

“We can stay here and argue about what happened to me,” (Y/N) sighed, “or you can help me with these wounds. Just stop. Please, mom.”

Rebecca hurried to the cupboard under the kitchen sink. She pulled out the first aid kit and quickly set to work on her daughter. First, she cut the leg of her pants, sliding it softly down her leg, careful not to disturb the wound. The girl’s thigh was covered in dried blood, fresh droplets still coming out of the cut. Thankfully, the knife hadn’t gone deep enough to nick any veins, but it had caused enough damage to drench her jeans and her skin with blood.

The woman cleaned the skin surrounding the wound, mindful of her daughter’s jerks and winces as she worked. Once the area was clear she glued the skin back together with a liquid bandage before doing the same with the girl’s shoulder. Finally, she covered both wounds with a waterproof bandage and gave her daughter two ibuprofen pills.

“Why don’t you head up to the shower and go to bed, honey?” Rebecca said as she put the items away. “We can all talk calmly tomorrow. It’s been a long night already.”

“Yeah, are you asking me or telling me?” 

“Okay, kid, let’s get you upstairs,” Henry said, stifling a laugh. “There’s gonna be a lot to unpack tomorrow.”

“Alright, I get the hint,” (Y/N) said as she got off the stool, careful to keep her weight mostly off her hurt leg. “Good night, guys.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I think I can manage.” She tested her steps, making sure she could at least make it to her room without help. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Alright,” Henry said before kissing the top of his daughter’s head. “Let me know if anything changes during the night, munchkin. I don’t care how late it is.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” (Y/N) limped toward the staircase, pressing her nails into her palms as pain shot up her leg and through her arm. She knew she should have asked for help, even if it was just to her room. But she had felt useless enough. “Night, guys.”

“Good night, honey,” her parents called out.

The girl mustered all the strength she could to make it all the way to her room. Part of her hoped Erica and Boyd had made it to her house. But as soon as her doorknob turned without any fight, she knew they were not there. All she could do was hope they at least were somewhere safe. Maybe they had gone through their plan of skipping town. Maybe.

Instead of two teen werewolves inside her room, she was met with an expectant Brody. In the blink of an eye, he had jumped off her bed and was by her side, whimpering as he noted the star of her body. He nudged her healthy leg softly, his eyes focused on hers.

“Hey, buddy,” she chuckled painfully. “I’m alright, boy. Just gotta get all this dirt off.”

Brody merely whined in response, clearly worried for his owner.

“I’m okay, bud,” (Y/N) smiled weakly. “We won tonight. Yeah. We won.”

She wasn’t sure if those last words had been to calm her dog or if she had to convince herself. They’d merely won a fight, but she could feel a war coming in. Something no one was ready for.

But she couldn’t worry about the future just yet. Not when the present was still so fresh.

After sending Brody to her bed, (Y/N) hurried to the bathroom. She set her change of clothes on the bathroom sink before ripping the dirty clothes off her body. The fabric had darkened with her blood, making it cling to her as it dried. Both items were unsalvageable, already cut and sulked by her wounds. They were evidence of a fight well fought but they reminded her of all she had done wrong.

(Y/N) set the shower to run hot before she allowed the stream to over her aching body. As the water came close to singe her skin, she allowed the tears to fall from her eyes, one of her hands flying to her mouth to muffle the sobs that escaped her.

Her mind kept replaying the night. She had started off strong with her fight back at the school. Hell, she had felt invincible then. When she had helped Erica and Boyd escape, she was sure the night would be filled with nothing but wins. But all it took was one wrong move and she’d allowed Allison to incapacitate her for the rest of the fight. If Stiles and Lydia had not burst in, she would have just become a burden to her friends. All the training and records she had broken had meant nothing. Not when a simple knife to her leg was enough to take her out of the running.

Then there had been Derek. She couldn’t get the gut-wrenching look of betrayal he sent her out of her mind. As much as he had hurt her, she didn’t want to hurt him. Yet, she knew Scott’s plan inevitably would. Derek was too married to the notion that the only way they could defeat Jackson was by killing him, but in doing so, he’d unravel too many knots that had already been tied.

When she had gone to see Scott after the fight in the sheriff’s station, (Y/N) had been sure she’d be leaving his house on Derek’s side. But there she learned just how much was at stake, and to beat Gerard they had to start playing his game. He had begged her not to tell Derek, knowing the alpha would find a way to get the Argent man exactly what he wanted. Knowing how much they could lose in the process, she had agreed. She didn’t tell anyone.

Much like she had done for her pain since she was a little girl, she kept it all inside. The girl shielded everyone around her from her fears and her sadness, too afraid to let them be consumed by the darkness that hid within her—in her mind and her heart. It was that very darkness that she was afraid would eat away at her when she least expected it. The void that lived in the chest of every Argent, waiting dormant until it was its time to wake.

(Y/N) had seen that darkness in Allison that night, but it had started its consumption many nights before. It had chiseled away at the barriers of her mind, clouding her thoughts with ire and vengeance. That night, it was the darkness that had sunk its knife into (Y/N)’s body for standing in the way. She couldn’t blame her cousin because she knew it all too well. It had visited her in her dreams, and it had been biding its time until it could have a taste of her too.

The water had grown cold by the time it had finally run clear. Ache returned to her muscles as the temperature dropped, and she knew her laments had to stop, too. No good would come from being alone with her thoughts, spiraling down an endless tunnel of dread.

At that moment, there was only one person that her mind drifted to for consolation. Regardless of what he had done and what he had said, she had grown to find comfort in him—his arms, his touch, his lips. And at that moment she needed that solace.

But he had made things clear, and no phone call or message could change his mind.

At least that’s what she thought.

(Y/N) left her bathroom, ready to sink into her cold bed and fall asleep to Brody’s gentle snores. She left the mess of dirty clothes on the floor—a problem for the morning. All she wanted was rest. Just rest.

She hadn’t expected to find Derek in the middle of her room, welcomed by an excited Brody. He was petting the dog and singing him praises when he noticed (Y/N) coming into the room, making him stop dead in his tracks. “(Y/N), I…” he started, unsure of what to say. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but after tonight I just had to see you, make sure you were okay. I can go if that’s what you want. I just…”

(Y/N) didn’t let him finish. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, letting herself come undone in his arms. Words be damned, hurt be damned. All she wanted was that moment. She allowed herself to sob into his chest, melting into his embrace like she had done before, and she cried. She cried until she didn’t remember if she had stopped.

Next ->

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[die-die-mydarling-xx]

Since your taking requests would you mind doing nsfw one with Bottom Thomas x Top male Reader where the scenario is like reader was captured for meat and is in the basement with Thomas.

I don't have a ton of experience writing top reader but I've been excited to get to this one >:)

Thomas Hewitt x Top! Male! Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Blood and Gore, y'know. They be killing people

This got WAY longer than expected lol hope you enjoy!

As you came to your senses, you immediately noticed the throbbing pain in your head and a distinct soreness in your arms. The last thing you remembered before now was getting cracked over the head with the butt of a pistol by the particularly rude sheriff who had pulled you over in the middle of nowhere. Okay, maybe you'd been going a little too fast, but nothing that warranted this kind of treatment . . .

As you became more aware of your surroundings, you realized you were dangling by your wrists a good few feet above the ground. That explained the soreness you could feel. Looking up, you could see that your wrists were bound together and the rope was strung over a rather large and wicked-looking meat hook. You could feel your heart starting to race in your chest, although by the maroon stains encrusting the majority of the hook's surface, you should consider yourself lucky that you were only hung by the rope around your wrists.

Looking around, you seemed to be in a basement; the room was dimly lit, with a set of stairs leading up in the corner. The space was cluttered, and specifics were hard to make out in the low light. But you could still tell the scene around you was straight out of a horror movie. All kinds of sharp implements littered every table, as well as what looked to be severed limbs and human bones. Where the hell were you?

You took a deep breath to try to steady yourself, knowing you had to at least try to come up with a plan. You studied the hook above your head. Considering the rope binding your wrists was only slung over the hook, maybe you could slip it right off . . .

Swinging your legs to build momentum, you heaved your body forward and up; for a moment, you thought the rope would slide right off the hook, but to your dismay it caught on the sharp tip. It took everything in you not to yell out in pain as gravity heaved the weight of your body back down. Your already aching shoulders protested as they pulled by the downward force. A small whimper escaped you, and you had to take several deep breaths to center yourself again. But you were so close, you knew you had to try again.

You swore it was the last of your strength this time as you once again swung yourself forward. This time, you felt the rope come free of the hook. You wanted to cry out victoriously, but you knew had to keep quiet. You fell to the ground, your fall broken by several inches of dirty water that covered the floor of the room. Luckily, it prevented the impact from being too hard, but it did make a loud splash as you landed. The smell of strange chemicals and other things you didn't want to think about assaulted your nose as the water soaked your clothes.

As you struggled to your feet, you could hear a commotion above you. There was the sound of someone yelling, and heavy footfalls-- you realized you recognized the voice. It was the sheriff. Cursing under your breath, you frantically looked around for somewhere to hide. You quickly ducked under a table as the door at the top of the stairs was flung open.

"--can't take a liking to 'im, make sure you get him good this time!" The sheriff was yelling, as the heavy footsteps continued down the stairs. There was only one pair of steps coming down the stairs. You wondered who the sheriff was talking to.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to try and quiet your panicked breathing as you saw a pair of legs passing the table you crouched under. You realized suddenly that whoever was in the basement now, it wasn't the sheriff-- this was someone else. As the strange man seemed to spot the empty meat hook, he began searching the basement for you. You didn't have much time now before you were found. You knew that he knew you were still in the basement; aside from the stairs, the only way out was a window that was too high and too small for you to escape out of.

As the legs disappeared from your view and the sounds of movement faded somewhat, you slowly crawled out the other side of the table. Standing, you spotted a meat cleaver on the table you'd been hiding under. You hastily snatched it up, cringing at the slightly tacky feel of the handle. With your hands still bound, you knew you wouldn't be able to wield it very effectively, but it was better than nothing.

Now that you were standing, you could see the man more clearly. You didn't think you could've been more terrified, but somehow you were at the sight of him. He was both tall and broad, not holding a weapon as far as you could see, but from the look of him he'd hardly need one. You dreaded the inevitable moment in which he'd spot you. The meat cleaver shook in your hands as you tried to slowly and quietly make your way towards your only option for escape: the stairs. Despite your best efforts, each step you took splashed quietly, and you'd only taken a few before the man turned around, locking eyes with you. You froze, holding the meat cleaver out in front of you with both hands.

You weren't expecting the bright, intense blue of the man's gaze as it locked with yours. It took you off guard for a second. The man was wearing what looked like a brown leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, making it hard to read his expression, but it didn't look like there was any malice or hatred in his eyes. In fact, he looked . . . almost intrigued as he watched you intensely. He started to advance towards you.

"I don't want to hurt you," you cried out, jabbing the cleaver at the air in front of you. "But I will if I have to!"

The man paused, looking you up and down. He didn't seem intimidated at your threats, not that you'd really expected him to. Even with the large knife you held, you weren't sure if you'd be able to overpower him. He started towards you again, and you tightened your grip on the cleaver. Suddenly, the words the sheriff had been shouting at him earlier sunk in. You had another plan.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" You said, feeling a little ridiculous to even say the words. The entire room around you said otherwise, but you were willing to try anything in that moment. "You don't want to . . . he's making you."

The man slowed, then stopped again. This time he seemed almost like he was struggling internally with something. He hadn't said a word this whole time, so you had to wonder if anything you were saying was really getting through to him. He began to slowly circle you, though he wasn't moving towards you anymore. You carefully kept him in your line of sight, not sure what he was trying to do now.

The door at the top of the stairs banged open, letting a weak beam of light into the basement. You could just make out a figure at the top of the stairs. "Tommy! Hurry it up down there!"

His words were drowned out by the roar of a chainsaw starting up, and you let out a cry of fear as you turned your attention back to the man in the basement. In the second you'd looked away, he'd managed to arm himself, and he wasted no time swinging the chainsaw at you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the basement door swing shut, cutting off the little light it had let in. The cleaver was knocked easily from your hands.

You held your hands up in a vain attempt to protect your face. All you could hear was the buzz of the chainsaw, you could practically feel it as it neared you. Suddenly, you felt the rope around your wrists loosen, and you braced yourself for the cutting pain you were sure would follow. When several moments passed and nothing happened, you slowly lowered your arms and opened your eyes. The man-- Tommy?-- stood in front of you, that intense gaze still fixed on your face. The chainsaw still roared away, but he held it almost non-threateningly by his side. The rough rope fell away from your wrists, having been severed by the chainsaw blade. You rubbed at your sore wrists, still terrified, but more than that you were puzzled.

"You . . . aren't going to kill me?" You asked in surprise, watching as Tommy set the chainsaw back on one of the tables, the engine slowly sputtering out. He took a step closer to you, putting the two of you almost face to face, although you had to look up to meet his gaze. You flinched slightly as he suddenly reached out to touch your face. The touch was surprisingly gentle despite the rough, calloused feel of his palms and the strength evident in him. His hands skimmed over the contours of your face and into your hair. Despite the fear you still felt, the fact that he touched you so gently was sort of endearing. Without hardly thinking about it, you reached out to rest a hand on his forearm, feeling the muscles ripple under his skin. You swallowed hard.

A little hesitantly, you reached up to the mask he wore. He seemed startled for a moment, but didn't move to stop you. You carefully pulled it off his face, taking in the features underneath with surprise. Strangely, the man seemed to be lacking a nose-- and even more strangely, you still found him very attractive. When he leaned down towards you, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway and press your lips together in a surprisingly tender kiss. He was somewhat lacking in technique, but it was more than made up for in enthusiasm. When you found yourself licking into his mouth, the low groan he let out had you gripping the fabric of the stained apron he wore.

One of his hands rested on the back of your head, gently tangling into your hair. You gripped Tommy's hip with your free hand, using the leverage to pull him closer to you. You were drinking in the low noises he made as you ground your hips into him. This wasn't just about staying alive; you found yourself enthralled by this strange man, and you wanted more.

He didn't put up any resistance as you pushed him back towards a relatively clear table. You only broke the kiss for a moment as you pushed him down onto the table. You were breathing hard, but this time it was from excitement rather than fear. The rollercoaster of emotions you'd been on had your head feeling like it was spinning, but it was strangely pleasant. You pressed your lips to Tommy's once again, hungrily this time, as your hands went to the zipper on his pants. You could clearly feel how hard he was already, even before you unzipped his pants to free his cock. It was so thick you could barely fit your hand around it, and the almost desperate moans he let out as you stroked him let you know he'd probably never done this before. The thought was exciting, making your own cock strain painfully in the confines of your pants. You quickly freed it with your spare hand, sighing in relief against Tommy's mouth as you stroked yourself a few times.

Pulling back from the kiss, you looked down at the man before you on the table. He was flushed, panting, and already leaking pre cum with your hand around his cock. The sight sent a jolt through you that made you rut your length against Tommy's still-clothed ass. You knew you needed to have him, and now.

You practically yanked his pants down to his ankles in your desperation, kneading his ass with the hand that wasn't wrapped around his cock. He was looking at you with those wide blue eyes, the expression so different from the one you'd seen not half an hour earlier. The thought made you smirk as you looked him over.

"You're doing so good for me," you murmured as you stroked a finger over his hole. He practically growled in response, thrusting his hips up into your hand. You pressed a hand flat against his hip, as if to hold him down, though if he didn't want to stay like that you knew you probably wouldn't be able to make him.

"Wait," you instructed in a firm tone, and you could see him swallow heavily in response. Carefully, you pushed a finger into him, starting to work him open. He let out a groan as you did so, squirming slightly on the table, but it was clear he was trying to do what you said. As you could feel him relaxing around you, you added another finger, then another. His thick cock was drooling pre cum onto his hip, and you thought he might cum before you even got yourself inside of him.

"Are you ready?" You asked in a low voice, almost shaking with the anticipation of being inside him. He gripped at you like he was trying to pull you closer, and though it looked like he was starting to fall apart, you could tell he was still trying not to hurt you. You pushed yourself inside him slowly but insistently, moaning in satisfaction as you bottomed out in him. Tommy's grip on you tightened, feeling almost painful, but you didn't care at that point as you started thrusting. He felt so good around you, his tight hole squeezing you perfectly. Picking up the pace of your thrusts, you knew it wouldn't be long before you reached your peak.

You leaned down to kiss him again, much more sloppily as your hips slapped against his. You started stroking and squeezing his cock in time with your thrusts, and from the grunts and groans he let out into your mouth, you could tell he wouldn't last much longer.

"Come on," you said low in his ear. "Cum for me."

That was all it took to send him over the edge, his cock twitching in your hand as he came. You could feel his spurts of cum paint your stomach, and the noise he made as he came along with the way he clenched around you was too much for you. You came inside him with a loud groan, feeling your own cum filling him as you sloppily thrust into him a few more times.

Exhausted from all the events of the past few hours, you collapsed against Tommy's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing under you as you wondered what the hell you'd gotten yourself into.

[menofsweaters]

hey autocorrect, I can promise you that I'm basically never trying to type "cocktail"

[jobrrr]

Even in the Next One Bonus 18+ Chapter

If you haven't been reading my fic, I just finished the first part, and it's a complete story now. I'll be back to write a part 2 later but the last things I had was to fill in the blanks on a fade to black moment at the end of the last chapter.

EitNO is a modern reversal. Claire is the one who wakes up with her memories and this time it's in Japan, and she (spoilers) is set on wooing Rei this time. So if you wanted a fic or smut where Claire absolutely knows how to push all of Rei's buttons (hehe) this is the one.

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Dick Grayson x F!Reader in: The Penalty Round

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| GN!Reader | M!Reader | Ao3 Version ||

|| Dick’s Tag | Batboys M.list | Batboys Tag | Personal Blog ||

|| The SFW prequel: The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library || || F!Reader (Ao3) || GN!Reader (Ao3) || ((some links pending))

↠ Requested By: The ~heaux~ in me ↠ Reader Gender: Female ↠ Content Type: NSFW af ((make no mistakes, I will 100% fight a kid if I see them on this post)) ↠ CWs/TWs: There’s nothing too out there, but still make sure to peep the in story note for the deets. ↠ If you’re looking for a beta-ed work you have come to the wrong place, my friend lol. ↠ Total WC: 3k~

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?” His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving… “Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…” You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier…

↠ Who says you can’t win for losing?

This brief bit of spiciness with my second favorite Bat is brought to you by The Thirst™ lol. I’m trying to get back into the swing of things, so if this is just “meh”/anything seems off blame that…

|| The Penalty Round

💦 Tags: Reader uses she/her pronouns | Reader has female anatomy | Pre-established relationship | Dick’s waistline being problematic | ((said problem is that my legs are not currently wrapped around it #madaboutit)) | ((why is it like that, if not for us to grab, huh? HUH??!)) | A v. brief mention of cum eating (Reader) | Oral (Reader giving) that leads into throat fucking (kinda rough, but not too much) | OP’s Dick’s praise kink is showing | Which means there’s lots of pet names (good girl, baby, honey, etc.; Reader receiving) | Reader gets that good oral-handy combo | Unprotected sex (remember to be safe IRL, so on and so forth) | Vaginal sex (more specifically a mating press, Reader receiving) | Knowing me there’re probably some v. light dom/sub undertones | ((that wasn’t necessarily my intent, but it is kinda my brand lmao)) | And finally a bit of afterglow‘n’cuddles before falling asleep in Dick’s arms because that is the Good Shit™

“Ready to settle up, love?”

The question is posed over the muted sound of Dick depositing you onto his bed. His preference for a softer, cushier mattress doesn’t allow for you to bounce, but rather you sink into its plushness with a giggle. Any answer you might have given is lost under another peal of mirth as he follows you down with a laugh of his own. Long limbs cage you in as he settles the perfect amount of weight onto you and the feeling grounds you even as the drag of his lips over your pulse point has you arching into his touch. Kisses tease themselves up the length of your neck and across the breadth of your face; he’s thorough, covering every spot readily available to him while simultaneously avoiding the pout of your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to voice your displeasure, but your breathy whines are only met with a playful chide.

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?”

His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving…

“Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…”

You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier. The weight of his want has lidded a gaze that is more pupil than iris, with the vivid blue having been ceded ground like a freshly eclipsed sun. Altogether it’s a look that says he’s more than ready to devour you whole and with the way he’s got you feeling right now you’re beyond down. He knows this, of course, and it definitely shows. A smirk slowly creeps its way across the plush of his mouth as he rises up to his knees.

“But if you’re that eager to do something with those pretty lips of yours, well…”—his thumb drags across your bottom lip with a deliberate slowness, reveling in the slight bounce it gives when his touch moves to trail down your chin—“I guess I’ll just have to put them to work then.”

He reaches back to gather a fistful of his shirt before pulling it up and over his head. Though the movement is tantalizing in and of itself (the way his arms and stomach flex as he shrugs out of the clingy material has to be illegal, at least in a few states) what it leads to is undeniably better. You whimper at the sight of him—the sleek, but powerful musculature, its broadness tapering out into a taught waist that just begs to be held on to, be that under the curve of eager palms or trapped between equally willing thighs.

His hands are purposeful as they ghost their way over his frame, from the soft whorls of hair that cover his chest and beyond. The short, downy soft strands’ raven hue contrasts beautifully with the natural tan of his skin enticing your eyes to follow the trail down to the sharp V-cut of muscle and further still to the joggers that sit sinfully low on his hips. It’s here that his hands linger, just for a moment, just long enough to make you squirm with impatience. His fingers dance along the band a few times before he finally, finally hooks his thumbs in and pushes the material down. The move isn’t nearly as smooth as everything that has preceded it, can’t be when his ass is that damn fat, but at this point you’re too gone to care.

With that final barrier gone his cock sits proudly on display, curved deliciously and bobbing under its own weight. Your mouth goes dry as you take in the dark flush of it, the way precum pearls against its tip before spilling over into a trail that your tongue is desperate to follow. He’s already so hard and yet he somehow manages to get even harder as he takes himself in hand and begins to stroke. The play of his pretty fingers over his equally pretty dick is mesmerizing, so much so that you don’t even realize he’s moved until the tip is nearly touching your lips. Without any cognizant thought on your part your tongue darts out to catch his still dripping arousal before retreating back into your mouth so that you can properly savor your prize; as always the taste leaves you groaning and greedy for more, your lids fluttering as you swallow thickly. The needy (and thoroughly debauched) display has Dick chuckling darkly.

“Such a good, eager girl,” he coos as his free hand caresses your cheek.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up, not when your lips have already parted as wide as they can go, your tongue lolling out in anticipation. The sight leaves him cursing hotly under his breath as he guides his length into your waiting warmth. You both moan at that first contact, though the vibration of your pleasured mewl sees Dick’s devolving into a gritted out hiss; at the same time his hips stutter but he’s able to stop himself before he gags you. This kindness isn’t extended for much longer, however, as he’s quick to set up a pace that’s just this side of brutal.

With every forward push his cock goes that little bit further until he’s fully fucking your throat. The sound of your moan laced gags can just be heard over your man’s near continuous stream of curses and praise. Though the angle makes things a bit more perilous you brace yourself and let Dick take what he needs, what you’re all too willing to give.

“Look at the way you swallow me down,” he pants in a voice that sounds just as wrecked as you feel, “my good, perfect girl. So, so good, always so good…”

It’s clear that both of your brains have fuzzed over—his from the pleasure that has him damn near shuddering above you, and you from his very apparent approval. You work your tongue along the underside of his cock as much as you can wanting, needing, to make him feel even better, to draw more of those sweet words out of him which you most certainly do. The pair of you are trapped in this feedback loop of lust for only a few minutes more before Dick is pulling out fully with a half-choked growl. You only have enough time to take one lung filling breath before his lips are crashing into your own. The kiss is a raw, feral thing full of tongue and teeth and a desperation that has you tearing at one another’s clothes.

Once your bottoms are gone an impatient hand makes its way to your center and Dick lets out a breathy little curse at the sheer amount of wetness that greets him. “All this just from sucking cock, babe?” he asks on a chuckle as he coats his fingers in your slick, their pads tracing teasing circles around your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The jolt of pleasure that courses through you reduces your reply to a reedy cry of his name that trails off into a hiccuping moan, a thing that clearly suits your man just fine.

“I was ready to fuck you into the mattress,” he continues on in a tone far too casual, all things considered, “but hearing you sing so pretty for me makes me want to play with you a bit more, so I think I will…”

The fingers that had been working your pearl over so perfectly close around it in a pinch that has you arching sharply off of the bed with a hiss. The movement is cut short, however, by him once again settling himself over you. Though he starts with his head tucked in against the crook of your neck, the vigilante has always been a restless one. It doesn’t take long for him to cut a trail of hot, opened mouth kisses down the length of your body until he’s at level with your dripping pussy. A dreamy sounding sigh of “So pretty~” is all the warning you get before he’s diving in like a man starved.

You shudder at the feeling of his tongue dragging itself over your already sodden flesh, Dick’s name a ragged cry on your lips as your fingers curl in against his hair. He likewise shivers at the bite of your nails against his scalp, humming his approval all the while before pulling away just long enough to tell you—promise you—that he’s going to make you lose your mind. And he’s as good as his word. He doesn’t let up, his tongue laving and twirling against you in shifting patterns that leave your head spinning and your legs shaking. His hands are just as busy as one keeps your hip anchored while its opposite works in tandem with his talented mouth.

“You sound so. Fucking. Cute.” The declaration is made some long moments later when his need for oxygen finally outweighs his greed for your cunt. His voice is absolutely wrecked with his desire, though you can barely focus on the rasp of it when he’s punctuating those last few words with suckling nips against your thighs.

You whimper out his name in reply only for the appellation to scale up into an opened mouth gasp when he takes advantage of the mess he’s created between your legs to easily slip a finger into your tight hole. A second soon follows the first before he purposefully curls them against that spot. You jolt up against him as pleasure skitters across your body like lightning. Moans claw their way out of your throat as you grind shamelessly up into him, your arms winding around him somewhat awkwardly in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

“Mmm~ I think she likes that,” he chuckles darkly as he continues to massage your walls. “That’s right honey, keep rocking those hips for me—need to work you open, get you ready to take me…”

You’re too far gone to fully comprehend what he’s saying, with your mind only really being able to focus on the sinuous purr of it all. Lust has deepened his voice into something specifically designed to leave you fully under his spell, and enthralled as you are there’s no perceiving anything outside of you and him and the pleasure that’s drawing closer with each pump of those ridiculously long fingers. You rut against him with a desperation that would be embarrassing if Dick wasn’t just as gone. He doesn’t have it in him to tease you right now, not when he feeds on your pleasure and you’re so close to the edge. He murmurs your name before pulling away from you to watch you chase your bliss with a ravenous intent. His gaze darts over the length of you in an attempt to drink in every little detail as words that blur the line between praise and pleas are panted down at you. His movements grow more pointed as yours become more frantic, the crescendo building up-up-up until–

“Oh fuck babe. That’s right—give it to me.”

A sound that’s caught somewhere between a moan and a sob squeaks out of you as your body tenses before going lax under the weight of your release, but that’s hardly the end of things.

“Fuck,” Dick growls lowly, his body slinking down further still so that he can hook your legs over his shoulders. When he comes back up to level his eyes are consumed with want as he grinds himself against you. “____, baby, do you have any idea how goddamn delicious you look right now?”

You try to reply, you swear you do, but between the orgasmic haze that hasn’t even begun to fade and the feeling of his cock pressing hot and heavy against you, well… You figure you can be forgiven for whatever the fuck it is that actually comes out of your mouth—not that it would’ve been audible anyway when your man’s tongue is so tangled up with your own. He sucks down your mewls of pleasure only to feed you his own as he reaches down to take himself in hand. His cock, hot and sticky with your combined arousal, slaps against your pussy a few times in rapid succession before he pushes finally, finally pushes into you.

Dick finds his rhythm quickly, settling on something hard and fast enough to have jostled your body forwards with each thrust had his bulk not been there to hold you steady. There’s a certain frantic energy to the way he fucks you—as if he needs to be inside you like he needs his next breath, as if the few seconds he has to leave you on the backstroke are too long to bear. It makes the encounter desperate in a way that that you usually only ever experience when he’s had too close of a call on patrol. You feed off of this, into it, clawing at whatever bit of him you can reach though pinned as you are all you can really do is lie there and take it–

Well until a particularly good downwards thrust leaves his dick brushing up against your sweet spot. Your reaction is instantaneous, your walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip that nearly sees him collapsing. His mouth parts around a moan that has you clenching up all over again as he catches himself on shaky arms just moments shy of crushing you.

“Fu-fuck… Fuck! That’s– It’s too damn good, babe. I-I’m already so close—you keep doing that and I’m not gonna last…”

There’s barely a sliver of sapphire to be found when he looks you over with wide, lust-blown eyes; said eyes cross just a bit when you bare down again, and when combined with the flush that sits high on his cheeks and the loose loll of his mouth he’s just one drool trail away from something straight out of the most obscene manga panels. The sight would’ve left you laughing if it weren’t for the way he rolls his hips into you in a deep grind.

You sigh his name as you urge him closer to you. From here you can feel the way his lips part under his pants, your breaths mingling as you tell him, beg him, to fall apart for you—“Please baby, want it. Want you to fill me up…”

“Yuh-yeah,” he starts, nodding wildly. “Yeah, I can do tha– Ah, shit! So fuckin’ tight… God, fuck—kiss me.”

He doesn’t give you time to comply, his lips already moving to crash into yours within the same breath. The kiss is sloppy and short lived, however, with Dick pulling away a few moments later to moan out your name as he redoubles his efforts. His strokes come fast and choppy as they lose their rhythm with each passing stroke until he’s abruptly stilling over your with a punched out sounding sigh and a shiver. The feeling of his release pouring into you is enough to push you over the cliff after him, his name on your lips as you give yourself over to ecstasy’s free fall.

The pair of your work your way through your orgasms with heaving chests, and in your case limbs that feel like jelly. As the euphoria begins to fade the mood easily slips over into something softer and more subdued. Dick, clearly still lost to his pleasure noses at your cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing sweet, lovesick nothings into the flushed skin there in between peppered kisses. The heart achingly tender display leaves your chest squeezing in the best of ways, and while you’d love nothing more than to bask in the afterglow of his affections for a long while yet your current positioning isn’t exactly the ideal setup in which to do so.

Your displeased little whine is all the hint your man needs and within the same moment your legs are being gently lowered onto the mattress. He flops onto his back right after, arching into a dramatic bow of a stretch—the sound that escapes him as he does so certainly makes you Feel Things, but you’re not trying to start something your already fucked out body most definitely cannot finish—before moving to curl himself around you. Insistent hands work to soothe away any aches you feel, starting with your hips, though he soon decides this can best be achieved by cradling you against his chest. Having been put through your paces you’re essentially dead weight, but that’s never been a hindrance before. Just one of the many perks of dating a man that moonlights as a vigilante, you muse with a silent laugh as he moves and settles you with ease.

You sigh contentedly as you allow yourself to sink more fully into his warmth, with any lingering tension that your muscles insist on trying to hold on to melting away under his care. Sleep has already started to blur the edges of your world, with the haze steadily creeping in to dull all of your senses until you fade out in full. You don’t register the slight shifting of your body or the soft glide of sheets that follows. The feeling of Dick pressing one last, lingering kiss against your temple is likewise a distant sensation, though his words are just able to slip underneath the fog–

“I love you, baby—always.”

–and that five word declaration, spoken with all the gravity of an indisputable truth, is the last thing you hear before you give yourself over the land of dreams.

© notepadsandtealeaves/TheViperQueen, 2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[necrotic-nephilim]

ok but consider this:

jayrose is already established but they want to try and have a threesome with kara, so both of them keep flirting with her and teasing her until she just snaps and then fucks both of them into the ground. they don't know that kara was a red lantern and is into some kinky shit, and they assumed they'd end up breaking her, but then she rims rose while riding jason and they both just lose it. I'm talking overstimulation until they're sobbing, fingering jason while he fucks rose, getting jason to fuck rose at super speed, riding jason at super speed until he disloctaes his hip, fingering rose until she dislocates her hip. ot3

ooooh i *love* this-

i have to admit i know next to nothing about Rose Wilson or Kara Zor-El. i've only really read comics with Rose that didn't handle her well, and as for Kara, i've always been more of a Power Girl than a Supergirl fan so, i don't think i've read anything significant with Kara. that said, the thing that i always enjoy about her whenever i witness her from a distance is her anger and how it always seems to sit under the surface, begging to be unleashed. and i love taking Kryptonians in sex to the extreme with just. absolutely fucked up shit. especially if it's not what the other character(s) expect.

love love the idea of Kara trying to keep her composure against Jason and Rose trying to flirt and rile her up. Jason and Rose can be two very crass, aggressive people. together, they're almost unbearable or Kara to handle, all the flirting and innuendos when they have no idea what they're getting themselves into with her. i like the idea of Kara holding herself back from sex -especially with humans- because she knows she's one for violent hatefucking and she knows humans are way too fragile to all that. it's not that she's not interested in Jason and Rose- if anything she's a little *too* interested. she just knows they don't know exactly what she's capable of. that said, there is something nice for her to be the center of attention. she's never the first Kryptonian people think of, and as far as the "every Bat has a Kryptonian" jokes go, she's never had her own Bat, especially one that comes with a pretty girlfriend who's just a little unhinged. it's even more fun if there's some angst to go along with it, bc Kara knows these are two people who would *understand* her anger, but she doesn't want to hurt them with it.

so when they *finally* make her snap, it's fun. i think it's extra fun if there's some kind of Red Kryptonite sort of situation involved bc i adore Red Lantern Kara a lot and i like putting her at the mercy of her own anger in other situations like that. so the wrong comment from Jason or Rose about how she looks all bloody and angry after a fight and she just snaps. she grabs them both and literally *flies off* until she finds an open field in the middle of nowhere that's secluded enough and wipes the smug looks off both Jason and Rose's faces.

you mentioned Kara making Jason fuck Rose at superspeed and i am *so* into exploring superspeed as like. a *painful* kind of sex. because human bodies just aren't decided to handle that level of friction. i like the thought of Jason liking the idea of it at first, thinking it's something like human vibrator stuff. but by the end he's squirming and whining from his body being forced past it's limits and Rose is just a mess underneath him.

everytime they think Kara is done, she goes at one of them again. spreading Rose's legs too wide to eat her out and holding down Rose as she struggles, even if it dislocates joints. Rose's body can heal pretty instantly, which if anything, only adds to how Kara finds new ways to bend and break it. Jason thinks he'll get a reprieve when he physically *can't* come anymore and Kara rode him so hard that his own hip is in the wrong place, but instead of stopping, she just flips him over and starts fingering him. Kara doesn't care if either of them bleed. she doesn't care if bones end up in the wrong places. this is what they wanted so badly, and now, they can take it. i think it's fun if she shoves the hilt of one of Jason's knives inside of him and tells him he better be careful and make sure it doesn't slip out-

i think it's fun exploring pain tolerance and stamina in a sexual way when you're dealing with vigilantes. how far could Kara take it before Jason and/or Rose are begging her to stop. how many bruises are going to cover their body. at what point does Kara even *decide* to stop, bc sure, she's doing this for the sexual release but she's also just doing it to get out all the pent-up anger and frustration she's been harboring for the months they've been teasing her. she's not even *really* letting loose, that's the fun part. letting loose would break them too far. she's basically just *toying with Jason and Rose. at some point Jason even gets jealous of Rose's healing factor bc it means Kara can go further with her, and is less careless about holding Rose's chest so tight that ribs crack. even overstimulated and in so much pain he can barely think, Jason is *delighted* by this side of Kara he didn't know about and wants to see how far she goes. he'd risk the Lazarus Pit again just to give her the chance to stop holding back, honestly. and Rose is thriving too. no one has ever taken advantage of her healing factor like this, not even Jason during their most kinky sessions. it's that feral sort of inhuman state they're both reduced to until Kara is satisfied. she probably *almost* leaves them in the middle of nowhere, but decides to be kind and plop them on a random rooftop in Gotham, even though most of their clothes are gone and neither of them can walk. it's a subtle reminder of how far she *could* go if she wanted to. it's her way of telling them to not mess with her bc next time, she'll drop them off in the Arctic if she has to.

of course, they mess with her again.

[adamsuniverse1144]

what more do i need to say about this?

ask me anything!

and yes, that’s steven and connie over there and YEA this is a polycule 🖤✨

art by @screwpinecaprice

[iamthecomet]

Dew and Ifrit and Mountain cuddling <3. Dew in the middle ofc. Then Dew wants to get frisky so he starts to grind against Ifrit but Mountain wraps his large hand around Dew and pulls him away. Dew can't get off until he sucks Mountain and Ifrit off.. maybe some oral knotting 👀✨

You had me at oral knotting. Water ghoul Dew, because why not.

The argument could be made that Dew doesn't know better. That the only thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes are horny ones. And maybe, to some extent, that's right. But Dew definitely knows better. He just doesn't particularly care. He knows that Ifrit and Mountain are focused on this movie. That they've wanted to watch it for months. He wanted to too. Right up until he was wedged between Ifrit's warmth and the evergreen smell of Mountain. Stretched out on Mountain's bed, fading sunlight spilling across the bed. Illuminating golden skin, and glittering eyes, and Dew can't watch the movie he's too busy watching Ifrit and Mountain. He'd chubbed up in no time. Ifrit's solid thigh pressing against the front of his sweatpants. Mountain's arm curled lazily around his waist, fingers pressed over his belly, thumb grazing over the spot where his shirt has ridden up. Dew looks up at Ifrit. At a strong jaw, and dark hair messy from him running his hands through it. His amber eyes are glued to the TV across the room. Ifrit shifts, his thigh dragging over Dew's half-hard cock. Dew's hips roll forward on their own accord. Grinding against the hard muscle of Ifrit's thigh. Dew digs his teeth into his cheek. He waits for someone to say something--for Ifrit to tell him to knock it off. For Mountain do scruff him. Neither thing happens. He presses against Ifrit again. He's fully hard now, starting to leak a little at the tip. He ruts against Ifrit, head dropping down onto his shoulder. Pleasure sparking up his spine. It's good. Better than it should be. Dew should stop before they stop him. But he can't now, hips twitching forward, compelled by the building ache in his gut. Mountain makes a low noise, almost a growl. Discontent rumbling through his chest. His hand tightens on Dew's stomach, calloused fingers biting in. He pulls him backward, hauling him just far enough away from Ifrit that he can't get friction anymore. "Mount--"

"What are you doing?" "Nothing, I--" Ifrit looks over at him and the words die on Dew's tongue. He feels like he's walked right into a trap now. Pinned between Ifrit's predatory gaze and Mountain's iron grip. Ifrit reaches down, he drags his fingers over the clothed head of Dew's cock, thumbing over the wet spot already growing on his sweatpants. Dew groans, cock kicking, another spurt of pre leaking into his pants. "You want something, Water Lily?" Ifrit purs. Dew swallows. Mountain holds him tight as Ifrit palms him, curling his fingers around him and squeezing until Dew whines. "Yeah, you, both of you," Dew bites out, hips rutting into Ifrit's hand chasing friction. Ifrit smirks at him. He shoves his sweatpants down with his free hand, and raises an eyebrow, eyes darting between his dick and Dew. "Don't make me ask, Droplet." Mountain's grip goes lax enough that Dew can shift, slipping down the bed and leaning over Ifrit's hips, mouthing at his stiffening cock. Dragging his tongue up over the underside to lap at the broad head. A hand tangles into Dew's hair, at first he thinks it's Ifrit's, but it's not warm enough, the fingers are too long. Mountain drags his head up, away from Ifrit's cock. "Let me feed it to him," Mountain rumbles. Ifrit huffs out a small laugh, and grabs his cock by the base, rubbing the tip over Dew's lips, smearing precum over them. "Open up, Dewy." Ifrit says as Mountain puts pressure on the back of Dew's head and moves him down. Ifrit groans as Dew's mouth slips down around him. Dew hears his head crack against the headboard as he leans back with it. Both of Ifrit's hands disappear, no doubt to fist in his own hair as Mountain directs the rhythm.

Dew tries to pull against Mountain's grip, finds it impossible. Dew flicks his tongue over the head of Ifrit's cock and Ifrit twitches below him. "Satanas, your fucking mouth." Ifrit groans as Mountain pushes Dew down further. Dew chokes, coughing as Ifrit's cock hits the back of his throat and Mountain keeps pushing until Dew's nose is pressed into the plump skin around the base.

Dew's brain turns off for a while. He doesn't have to think about anything. Doesn't have to control the rhythm or think about what to do next, he can't. His mind goes blissfully empty. Focused only on the push and pull of Mountains' hand on the back of his skull and the ache in his gut, the insistent need of his own leaking cock. "You're gonna take my knot." It's not a question. Mountain is shoving Dew's head down again, his lips bumping against the knot swelling at the base of Ifrit's cock. Dew whines. He digs his fingers into Ifrit's thighs. Ifrit's hips thrust up as Mountain pushes down. Dew knows he can take it, but as it continues to swell against his swollen lips he feels a familiar pit of anxiety grow in his stomach. Ifrit's thighs are shaking, body tensing and releasing as he gets close. Dew feels insane. Out of control. Used in a way that sends continuous swoops of desire through his gut. The front of his sweatpants are soaked now, the back too, probably. He's slick everywhere, desperate. Mountain shoves Dew down, Ifrit's knot slipping into his waiting mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of Dew's throat as Ifrit cums with a hoarse shout. Dew focuses on breathing through his nose, on swallowing every last drop Ifrit gives him. He presses his tongue along the underside and is rewarded with another small dribble. Mountain strokes his fingers through Dew's hair, his grip going loose now that Dew can't go anywhere. Mountain leans over him, dragging a fang along the outside of Dew's ear. "When that goes down, it's my turn."

[adhdprincess]

Canon was wrong.

I just posted chapter 2 of my 'Tess Lives' fic and now live in pure, shameless denial that Tess ever died.

There's No Road That Will Lead Us Back

Summary: Ellie, Joel, and Tess learn to live on the road together without wringing each other's necks in the process. Ellie is feral, Joel is savage, and Tess is trying to get everyone to Wyoming in one piece.

Set during the 3-month timeskip before winter. There are wonderful character arcs and nice campfire scenes, but it gets dramatic as hell��buckle up.

One-way ticket to Ao3. Choo choo! 🚅💨

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 20

Word Count: 3.1K

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: so, I was planning on updating three stories this week but my body decide otherwise and put me out of commission for the past three days. I had a fever of 102.4 that lasted all of tuesday, accompanied with a wide array of other symptoms. Then wednesday and today, I had a mind breaking migraine. I was able to finish this chapter and I hope I can finish the others too 🤍

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They were late.

No. They were later than late.

By the time Isaac and (Y/N) rolled up to the school, the game had already started and was going in full swing. Cheers and screams were heard from the parking lot, and they hoped nothing had gone down just yet.

“Get to the locker room and get the rest of your stuff,” (Y/N) said as they hopped off her motorcycle. “I’ll go down to the field and see what’s going on.”

“Be careful, (Y/N),” Isaac worried. “We don’t know what we’re facing yet.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go,” she affirmed. “I’ll see you out there.”

She waited until he had disappeared into the school before tucking a gun in the back of her waistband and her knives inside the holsters on her ankles. One thing was certain: if anyone, whether it be the Kanima or her family, tried something that night, she was going to fight back and defend the people she cared about.

In the field, there was a shared nervousness between all those who knew the truth of the world that was hidden in plain sight. But no one felt the pressure more than Scott. Not only was he forced to sit out of the game, putting everyone on the field in danger, but he also had to protect his mother and his friends from Gerard and Jackson.

“Let’s put a real clock on this game, Scott,” the boy’s ears twitched towards the man’s voice. “I’ll give you until the last thirty seconds. When the scoreboard clock begins counting down from 30, if you haven’t given me Derek, then Jackson is gonna kill someone.”

Dread settled in the pit of the boy’s stomach. The man listed off potential victims, putting in the pool his mother and Stiles’ father. Even Lydia’s and the coach’s names were mentioned. What he had not expected was the last person he said. He knew the man was cruel, but he never thought Gerard would stoop so low. “Or maybe I’ll send him off on (Y/N),” he said. “Maybe Derek will hand himself over if I do that. You know how much he likes the Argent girls.”

Scott’s head snapped behind him, his gaze colliding with a frantic (Y/N). She was speaking into her phone, at a tone so low even he couldn’t hear, but he could tell she was worried. He just hoped it had nothing to do with what was going to go down that night.

“It’s up to you, Scott,” the man instructed. “But you are going to help me take Derek down. Because if you don’t… I’ll have Jackson rip someone’s head off right in the middle of the field and drench everyone you love and care about in blood. And I’d really hate for that person to be my own granddaughter.”

Even without the Kanima, there was a slaughter on the field. With Stiles' little to no experience actually playing the game, the team had no chance of winning, much less of benching enough players to get Scott in there. It was wrong move after wrong move, and there was nothing he could do—at least, not just yet.

As the coach forced him to sit back down when he tried to join the team, he felt a presence next to him. Someone he wasn’t quite expecting.

“You came to help.” 

Surprise was splattered across his face as the other boy smirked at him. “I came to win,” Isaac said before his eyes fell on Gerard’s threatening gaze. “Do you have a plan yet?”

“No,” he sighed, “right now it’s pretty much just keep Jackson from killing anyone.”

“Well, that might be easier if you’re actually in the game,” the blond stated. “We have to make it so coach had no choice but to play you.”

“How do we do that? He’s got a bench full of guys he can use before he ever puts me on the field.” All it took was one look before both boys knew what had to be done and how. “Can you do it without putting anyone in the hospital?”

Isaac took a deep breath, knowing he could not lie. He said, “I can try,” before sliding on his helmet and joining the team on the field, and setting off to work.

Whoever saw him on the field would think Isaac was playing for the opposite team. With jabs, swipes, and kicks, the boy got his teammates out one by one. He knew they’d be hurt, their bodies and their egos, but there was a greater good to be fought for. A couple of bumps and bruises would heal a lot better than a dead body.

The plan was working and working well. One by one, his teammates were driven on and off the field. It was going too perfectly. Until Jackson rammed himself into Isaac, sending him to the ground and dislocating his arm while inconspicuously nicking him with venom. Either way, Isaac was out of the game, and Scott was in. He was out his only supernatural advantage, but he would protect everyone like he had an entire army behind him.

(Y/N) couldn’t stay in her seat as she saw Isaac being taken away. She sped down the bleachers to follow the medics but stopped dead in her tracks. She wasn’t the only one that was heading back to the school. Gerard and two hunters followed the men back to the boys’ locker room, their sights set on the werewolf.

The girl knew where her grandfather’s head was at. He was going to torture information out of the boy and kill him afterward. He had no need to let Isaac live once he got what he wanted. He saw no need to let anyone live.

The medics had left Isaac by himself in the recovery room after putting his shoulder into place. But it wasn’t enough to completely trigger his healing and not fast enough for him to protect himself from three men and a sword.

“It was a good effort, Isaac,” Gerard called as he motioned to his hunter to hand him his sword. “This would be so much more poetic if it were halftime.”

Gerard and the hunters made their way toward Isaac, the older man dragging the tip of the blade on the ground. It was intimidating, sure. But not when the boy knew he had backup. As the older Argent raised his weapon toward him, Isaac smirked, making him stop dead in his tracks.

In the reflection of the mirror behind the blond boy, (Y/N) stood, knife in hand and a smirk on her face. Before the younger hunters could do anything, she hit one on the back of the neck with the handle of her knife, knocking him out cold before turning to the other.

The second man put up more of a fight since he knew what was coming. He was strong and agile; she would give him that, just like she gave him the first punch he threw to her jaw. But he had no idea who he was fighting. (Y/N) had been trained her entire life for that type of situation, even if she didn’t know it.

(Y/N) went low, using his height to her advantage. She drove a punch into his abdomen, making him hunch over in pain. As he bent down, she grabbed the back of his neck before slamming her knee one time on his nose, making a bloody mess of his face, and another on his temple, right between the bridge of his nose and his eyes. The man tumbled to the ground as though he weighed nothing more than a doll, succumbing to the blow she had managed to land.

“You know this looks very predatory,” she said between pants. “Three grown men cornering a teenage boy in a dark room, not a great look. Especially the principal of the school! What will the parents say?”

“(Y/N),” Gerard announced. “Can’t say it’s a surprise to see you here. I should have known you’d betray the family. At the end of the day, you do have your father’s blood running through you.”

“But this is not about that, is it?” she questioned, slowly making her way toward him. “This is about you using innocent kids to get to Derek Hale because you can’t do it on your own.”

“None of this concerns you anymore, (Y/N),” he said. “Maybe you should take a page out of your cousin’s book and accept your fate. You’re a hunter. You always will be. These people… these things, they are not your blood. They will turn on you the second they need to protect themselves.”

“Weird,” she chuckled dryly. “The only people who have done that is my own family.”

“That’s because you have no sense of loyalty, granddaughter. But I can’t blame you. Not when your father turned out the way he did,” he sighed. “Although, he seems to have learned his place now.”

“Enough chitchat already, old man,” the girl exhaled. “Why don’t you show me a real fight? Something those two clearly didn’t have in them.”

“Come on, (Y/N). You wouldn’t hurt your dear old grandpa, now, would you?” Gerard smirked deviously. “I don’t think that’s a line even you would cross. Not when I have the information you have been dying to know.”

“What could you possibly know that I don’t already?”

“I know all about the mystery woman your parents always talk about,” he smirked. “I also know why you’ve always felt so… different. Especially this past year. Everything is just so… heightened.”

(Y/N) wanted to accept his offer. Something in her told her that his information was reliable, that he knew everything her parents were hiding and more. But as much as she wanted the truth, there were bigger things in play.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you a piece for free,” he said. “Ever wondered why you don’t look quite like us? Like your mother? Ask your father about Raina, and maybe you’ll find out. Or let me go, and I will tell you all you want to know. And something tells me you’d prefer the latter.”

“Wanna test your theory out?” she threatened as she pulled her gun from her waistband and pointed it at her grandfather. “Because you may have the years of experience, but I have my health.”

The words made the man stumble in his stance, the phrase sending shivers down his spine. There was no way she could know what he thought she was implying. Her choice of vocabulary had to come from a catalog of random remarks she could use to hurt him. Because she couldn’t know, no one could.

“I think it’s best if you just go while you still can, Gerard,” Scott called out as he came into the locker room. “I’ve seen her fight, and it’s better if you just go.”

The man didn’t think twice as he took steps back, his gaze set on his granddaughter. “This isn’t over yet,” he said. “But the game almost is.”

As Gerard ran from the locker room, (Y/N) took a stumbling Isaac into her arms. “Okay, I have to trigger your healing, okay?” she told him. “Just, please, don’t fight back.”

She sank her knife into his arm, flinching as he let out a painful scream. Blood ran down the knife and onto her hand, but she knew it was the fastest way he could recover. “Hold on for just a bit more,” she said. “Gotta make your body work hard.”

“It’s fine,” he winced. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“What did Gerard mean about the game, Scott?” (Y/N) asked as she turned her head to face the boy. “He said the game is almost over. Why?”

“Jackson’s gonna kill someone if I don’t give up Derek,” he said. “Gerard gave me until the last thirty seconds of the match.”

“Then take these two out back and get to the field,” she instructed. “I’ll clean up here, and Isaac will be with you as soon as possible.”

Scott set off quickly to work, pulling one of the men onto his shoulders while dragging the other out. But he stopped as (Y/N) called out, “Be careful, Scott. Night’s not over yet.” And he was gone.

“Alright, Isaac, I’m gonna pull this knife out now,” she said as she turned back to the blond boy. “It will sting, but it’ll hopefully be enough for your body to metabolize the rest of the venom in your body.”

Just as she had said, the girl slid the blade from her friend’s arm, holding her hand over the wound as it healed. She could feel his blood pool under her hand, warm and sticky, and all kinds of uncomfortable. His body was slowly healing, but it was still healing.

Slowly, she removed her hand from Isaac’s arm, letting out a breath of relief as the cut disappeared before her very eyes. Only then, when she was sure he was recovering, did she set off to get towels and a mop to clean off the trail of blood the hunter had left behind. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to warrant concern if anyone else saw it.

“Somehow, I keep forgetting you were raised to be a fighter,” Isaac muttered as he helped (Y/N) wipe away the last of the water on the floor. “Really saved my ass back there.”

“I told you I could protect myself,” she smirked. “Maybe now you’ll stop worrying about me.”

“I’ll always worry,” he said. “I can’t help it.”

“Well, at least you’ll know I can hold my weight in a fight,” she chuckled, bumping her shoulder against his. “I’m okay, Isaac. I’m gonna have a pretty bruise on my jaw, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Suddenly, the sound of a whistle echoed through the room, signaling the end of the game. Terror washed over the pair as screams followed soon after. Fear infiltrated the locker room, sending waves of dread through the teens. Something had happened out on the field, and Scott hadn’t been able to stop it.

“Go,” (Y/N) instructed. “I’ll finish up here.”

“What if Gerard comes back?”

“He brought a sword to a gunfight,” she smirked. “I think I know which of the two is most lethal.”

(Y/N) finished cleaning up the floor, making sure there was no evidence that a fight had ensued there. Her jaw ached and her limbs throbbed but there was an exciting rush that flowed through her. She knew she was good. She had bested her parents in sparring matches since she was only fifteen, but being able to prove herself in front of her grandfather made her feel proud of the progress she had made. She was strong, and that was something no one could take from her.

But Gerard’s words hung at the back of her mind, taunting her. Mocking her. Raina, he had said. It was a name she had never heard before, much less from her father’s mouth. But he’d known exactly what question it would answer, and what information she craved for. If it hadn’t been for the situation at hand, (Y/N) knew she would have gone as far as torturing even the smallest detail from the old man.

Still, as much as her brain yelled at her for answers, she knew she had to focus on that night. Whatever Gerard had planned would change everything between the hunters and the wolves, and they had to do everything they could to stop him.

Once she was satisfied with her work, (Y/N) ran out of the locker room and into the commotion of the lacrosse field. The lights of an ambulance van and police cars flickered in the field, painting the groups of concerned people in red and blue. She quickly spotted Isaac and Scott close to the ambulance, and she ran to them for an update on the situation.

“What do you mean Jackson’s dead?” she questioned. “And Stiles is just gone? None of this makes sense.”

“I know,” Scott sighed. “When the lights turned back on, Jackson was on the ground, and he’d stabbed himself in the stomach. My mom checked him, and he had no pulse.”

“But Gerard needs him,” she muttered. “There has to be something we’re missing here.”

“If there is,” he said, “I have no idea what it is.”

“What about Stiles?”

“He disappeared,” Isaac answered. “He won us the game and was gone by the time the lights turned on. We’re gonna look for him after we change out of our uniforms.”

“What can I do? How can I help you find him?”

“Hang around the locker rooms until everyone else is gone,” Scott said. “We’ll get his scent, and you and Isaac can look for him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed. “This is gonna be a long night, isn’t it?”

“You can bet on that.”

(Y/N) waited in the dark hall as boys left the locker room, doing her best to keep out of sights. From where she hid, she could hear the Sherrif’s heartbreaking plead to Scott and Isaac to let him know if anything came up about his son. She had not felt as useless as she did at that moment. She could fight, she could defend, but she could do nothing to find someone who had seemingly vanished. 

When the man walked out of the room, she fought the urge to tell him she’d make sure his son came home. On the one hand, she didn’t have a lead on him yet. And on the other, she wasn’t even supposed to be there.

“Coast is clear, (Y/N),” Isaac called out. “Get in here.”

Inside the room, Scott and Isaac both held something of Stiles—a shoe and a shirt. “You know I could have just picked the lock,” she said as she noted the twisted locker door on the ground. “Save the school a couple of bucks.”

“I’m gonna need your resumé for future occasions,” Scott chuckled. “There are too many things you can do.”

“You have no idea,” Isaac smirked before his gaze turned back to the shoe in his hand. “But how come you get his shirt, and I get a shoe?”

Before he could answer, a sudden presence made the hairs at the back of (Y/N)’s neck stand up. And the wolves had noticed. Their attention was no longer held by the items that could help them find Stiles. Instead, their sights were set on the man standing before them. The very man who had been avoiding (Y/N) like the plague.

“Derek,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Next ->

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[ghostoffuturespast]

I FINISHED WRITING THIS FUCKING CHAPTER. LETS FUCKING GO.

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Dick Grayson x M!Reader in: The Penalty Round

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| F!Reader | GN!Reader | Ao3 Version ||

|| Dick’s Tag | Batboys M.list | Batboys Tag | Personal Blog ||

|| The SFW prequel: The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library || || F!Reader (Ao3) || GN!Reader (Ao3) || ((some links pending))

↠ Requested By: The ~heaux~ in me ↠ Reader Gender: Male ↠ Content Type: NSFW af ((make no mistakes, I will 100% fight a kid if I see them on this post)) ↠ CWs/TWs: There’s nothing too out there, but still make sure to peep the in story note for the deets. ↠ If you’re looking for a beta-ed work you have come to the wrong place, my friend lol. ↠ Total WC: ~3k

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?” His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving… “Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…” You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier…

↠ Who says you can’t win for losing?

This brief bit of spiciness with my second favorite Bat is brought to you by The Thirst™ lol. I’m trying to get back into the swing of things, so if this is just “meh”/anything seems off blame that…

|| The Penalty Round

💦 Tags: Reader uses he/him pronouns | Reader has male anatomy | Pre-established relationship | Dick’s waistline being problematic | ((said problem is that my legs are not currently wrapped around it #madaboutit)) | ((why is it like that, if not for us to grab, huh? HUH??!)) | A v. brief mention of cum eating (Reader) | Oral (Reader giving) that leads into throat fucking (kinda rough, but not too much) | OP’s Dick’s praise kink is showing | Which means there’s lots of pet names (good boy, baby, honey, etc.; Reader receiving) | Reader gets that good oral-handy combo | Unprotected sex (remember to be safe IRL, so on and so forth) | Penetrative sex (more specifically a mating press, Reader receiving) | Knowing me there’re probably some v. light dom/sub undertones | ((that wasn’t necessarily my intent, but it is kinda my brand lmao)) | And finally a bit of afterglow‘n’cuddles before falling asleep in Dick’s arms because that is the Good Shit™

“Ready to settle up, love?”

The question is posed over the muted sound of Dick depositing you onto his bed. His preference for a softer, cushier mattress doesn’t allow for you to bounce, but rather you sink into its plushness with a giggle. Any answer you might have given is lost under another peal of mirth as he follows you down with a laugh of his own. Long limbs cage you in as he settles the perfect amount of weight onto you and the feeling grounds you even as the drag of his lips over your pulse point has you arching into his touch. Kisses tease themselves up the length of your neck and across the breadth of your face; he’s thorough, covering every spot readily available to him while simultaneously avoiding the pout of your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to voice your displeasure, but your breathy whines are only met with a playful chide.

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?”

His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving…

“Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…”

You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier. The weight of his want has lidded a gaze that is more pupil than iris, with the vivid blue having been ceded ground like a freshly eclipsed sun. Altogether it’s a look that says he’s more than ready to devour you whole and with the way he’s got you feeling right now you’re beyond down. He knows this, of course, and it definitely shows. A smirk slowly creeps its way across the plush of his mouth as he rises up to his knees.

“But if you’re that eager to do something with those pretty lips of yours, well…”—his thumb drags across your bottom lip with a deliberate slowness, reveling in the slight bounce it gives when his touch moves to trail down your chin—“I guess I’ll just have to put them to work then.”

He reaches back to gather a fistful of his shirt before pulling it up and over his head. Though the movement is tantalizing in and of itself (the way his arms and stomach flex as he shrugs out of the clingy material has to be illegal, at least in a few states) what it leads to is undeniably better. You whimper at the sight of him—the sleek, but powerful musculature, its broadness tapering out into a taught waist that just begs to be held on to, be that under the curve of eager palms or trapped between equally willing thighs.

His hands are purposeful as they ghost their way over his frame, from the soft whorls of hair that cover his chest and beyond. The short, downy soft strands’ raven hue contrasts beautifully with the natural tan of his skin enticing your eyes to follow the trail down to the sharp V-cut of muscle and further still to the joggers that sit sinfully low on his hips. It’s here that his hands linger, just for a moment, just long enough to make you squirm with impatience. His fingers dance along the band a few times before he finally, finally hooks his thumbs in and pushes the material down. The move isn’t nearly as smooth as everything that has preceded it, can’t be when his ass is that damn fat, but at this point you’re too gone to care.

With that final barrier gone his cock sits proudly on display, curved deliciously and bobbing under its own weight. Your mouth goes dry as you take in the dark flush of it, the way precum pearls against its tip before spilling over into a trail that your tongue is desperate to follow. He’s already so hard and yet he somehow manages to get even harder as he takes himself in hand and begins to stroke. The play of his pretty fingers over his equally pretty dick is mesmerizing, so much so that you don’t even realize he’s moved until the tip is nearly touching your lips. Without any cognizant thought on your part your tongue darts out to catch his still dripping arousal before retreating back into your mouth so that you can properly savor your prize; as always the taste leaves you groaning and greedy for more, your lids fluttering as you swallow thickly. The needy (and thoroughly debauched) display has Dick chuckling darkly.

“Such a good, eager boy,” he coos as his free hand caresses your cheek.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up, not when your lips have already parted as wide as they can go, your tongue lolling out in anticipation. The sight leaves him cursing hotly under his breath as he guides his length into your waiting warmth. You both moan at that first contact, though the vibration of your pleasured mewl sees Dick’s devolving into a gritted out hiss; at the same time his hips stutter but he’s able to stop himself before he gags you. This kindness isn’t extended for much longer, however, as he’s quick to set up a pace that’s just this side of brutal.

With every forward push his cock goes that little bit further until he’s fully fucking your throat. The sound of your moan laced gags can just be heard over your man’s near continuous stream of curses and praise. Though the angle makes things a bit more perilous you brace yourself and let Dick take what he needs, what you’re all too willing to give.

“Look at the way you swallow me down,” he pants in a voice that sounds just as wrecked as you feel, “my good, perfect boy. So, so good, always so good…”

It’s clear that both of your brains have fuzzed over—his from the pleasure that has him damn near shuddering above you, and you from his very apparent approval. You work your tongue along the underside of his cock as much as you can wanting, needing, to make him feel even better, to draw more of those sweet words out of him which you most certainly do. The pair of you are trapped in this feedback loop of lust for only a few minutes more before Dick is pulling out fully with a half-choked growl. You only have enough time to take one lung filling breath before his lips are crashing into your own. The kiss is a raw, feral thing full of tongue and teeth and a desperation that has you tearing at one another’s clothes.

Once your bottoms are gone an impatient hand makes its way to your center and Dick lets out a breathy little curse at the sheer amount of wetness that greets him. “All this just from sucking cock, babe?” he asks on a chuckle as he coats his fingers in your pre, their pads dragging oh-so-slowly over your length before sliding down to trace teasing circles around your entrance. The jolt of pleasure that courses through you reduces your reply to a reedy cry of his name that trails off into a hiccuping moan, a thing that clearly suits your man just fine.

“I was ready to fuck you into the mattress,” he continues on in a tone far too casual, all things considered, “but hearing you sing so pretty for me makes me want to play with you a bit more, so I think I will…”

The hand that had been working your length over so perfectly is soon joined by the molten heat of his mouth in a move that’s so quick and fluid that you don’t have a hope of bracing yourself for the added sensation. Your body’s replying arch is cut short by steadying hands, a knowing little laugh vibrating against your cock all the while. You shudder at the feeling, gasping when his tongue drags itself over your already sodden flesh, Dick’s name a ragged cry on your lips as your fingers curl in against his hair. He likewise shivers at the bite of your nails against his scalp, humming his approval all the while before pulling away just long enough to tell you—promise you—that he’s going to make you lose your mind. And he’s as good as his word. He doesn’t let up, his tongue laving and twirling over your heated flesh in shifting patterns that leave your head spinning and your legs shaking. His hands are just as busy as one glides over you with teasing strokes while its opposite moves lower to play with your balls.

“You sound so. Fucking. Cute.” The declaration is made some long moments later when his need for oxygen finally outweighs his greed for your cock. His voice is absolutely wrecked from having you down his throat for so long, though you can barely focus on the rasp of it when he’s punctuating those last few words with suckling nips against your thighs.

You whimper out his name in reply only for the appellation to scale up into an opened mouth gasp when he takes advantage of the mess he’s created between your legs to easily slip a finger into your tight hole. A second soon follows the first before he purposefully curls them against that spot. You jolt up against him as pleasure skitters across your body like lightning. Moans claw their way out of your throat as you grind shamelessly up into him, your arms winding around him somewhat awkwardly in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

“Mmm~ I think he likes that,” he chuckles darkly as he continues to massage your walls. “That’s right honey, keep rocking those hips for me—need to work you open, get you ready to take me…”

You’re too far gone to fully comprehend what he’s saying, with your mind only really being able to focus on the sinuous purr of it all. Lust has deepened his voice into something specifically designed to leave you fully under his spell, and enthralled as you are there’s no perceiving anything outside of you and him and the pleasure that’s drawing closer with each pump of those ridiculously long fingers. You rut against him with a desperation that would be embarrassing if Dick wasn’t just as gone. He doesn’t have it in him to tease you right now, not when he feeds on your pleasure and you’re so close to the edge. He murmurs your name before pulling away from you to watch you chase your bliss with a ravenous intent. His gaze darts over the length of you in an attempt to drink in every little detail as words that blur the line between praise and pleas are panted down at you. His movements grow more pointed as yours become more frantic, the crescendo building up-up-up until–

“Oh fuck babe. That’s right—give it to me.”

A sound that’s caught somewhere between a moan and a sob squeaks out of you as your body tenses before going lax under the weight of your release, but that’s hardly the end of things.

“Fuck,” Dick growls lowly, his body slinking down further still so that he can hook your legs over his shoulders. When he comes back up to level his eyes are consumed with want as he grinds himself against you. “____, baby, do you have any idea how goddamn delicious you look right now?”

You try to reply, you swear you do, but between the orgasmic haze that hasn’t even begun to fade and the feeling of his cock pressing hot and heavy against you, well… You figure you can be forgiven for whatever the fuck it is that actually comes out of your mouth—not that it would’ve been audible anyway when your man’s tongue is so tangled up with your own. He sucks down your mewls of pleasure only to feed you his own as he reaches down to take himself in hand. His cock, hot and sticky with your combined arousal, slaps against your entrance a few times in rapid succession before he pushes finally, finally pushes into you.

Dick finds his rhythm quickly, settling on something hard and fast enough to have jostled your body forwards with each thrust had his bulk not been there to hold you steady. There’s a certain frantic energy to the way he fucks you—as if he needs to be inside you like he needs his next breath, as if the few seconds he has to leave you on the backstroke are too long to bear. It makes the encounter desperate in a way that that you usually only ever experience when he’s had too close of a call on patrol. You feed off of this, into it, clawing at whatever bit of him you can reach though pinned as you are all you can really do is lie there and take it–

Well until a particularly good downwards thrust leaves his dick brushing up against your sweet spot. Your reaction is instantaneous, your walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip that nearly sees him collapsing. His mouth parts around a moan that has you clenching up all over again as he catches himself on shaky arms just moments shy of crushing you.

“Fu-fuck… Fuck! That’s– It’s too damn good, babe. I-I’m already so close—you keep doing that and I’m not gonna last…”

There’s barely a sliver of sapphire to be found when he looks you over with wide, lust-blown eyes; said eyes cross just a bit when you bare down again, and when combined with the flush that sits high on his cheeks and the loose loll of his mouth he’s just one drool trail away from something straight out of the most obscene manga panels. The sight would’ve left you laughing if it weren’t for the way he rolls his hips into you in a deep grind.

You sigh his name as you urge him closer to you. From here you can feel the way his lips part under his pants, your breaths mingling as you tell him, beg him, to fall apart for you—“Please baby, want it. Want you to fill me up…”

“Yuh-yeah,” he starts, nodding wildly. “Yeah, I can do tha– Ah, shit! So fuckin’ tight… God, fuck—kiss me.”

He doesn’t give you time to comply, his lips already moving to crash into yours within the same breath. The kiss is sloppy and short lived, however, with Dick pulling away a few moments later to moan out your name as he redoubles his efforts. His strokes come fast and choppy as they lose their rhythm with each passing stroke until he’s abruptly stilling over your with a punched out sounding sigh and a shiver. The feeling of his release pouring into you is enough to push you over the cliff after him, his name on your lips as you give yourself over to ecstasy’s free fall.

The pair of your work your way through your orgasms with heaving chests, and in your case limbs that feel like jelly. As the euphoria begins to fade the mood easily slips over into something softer and more subdued. Dick, clearly still lost to his pleasure noses at your cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing sweet, lovesick nothings into the flushed skin there in between peppered kisses. The heart achingly tender display leaves your chest squeezing in the best of ways, and while you’d love nothing more than to bask in the afterglow of his affections for a long while yet your current positioning isn’t exactly the ideal setup in which to do so.

Your displeased little whine is all the hint your man needs and within the same moment your legs are being gently lowered onto the mattress. He flops onto his back right after, arching into a dramatic bow of a stretch—the sound that escapes him as he does so certainly makes you Feel Things, but you’re not trying to start something your already fucked out body most definitely cannot finish—before moving to curl himself around you. Insistent hands work to soothe away any aches you feel, starting with your hips, though he soon decides this can best be achieved by cradling you against his chest. Having been put through your paces you’re essentially dead weight, but that’s never been a hindrance before. Just one of the many perks of dating a man that moonlights as a vigilante, you muse with a silent laugh as he moves and settles you with ease.

You sigh contentedly as you allow yourself to sink more fully into his warmth, with any lingering tension that your muscles insist on trying to hold on to melting away under his care. Sleep has already started to blur the edges of your world, with the haze steadily creeping in to dull all of your senses until you fade out in full. You don’t register the slight shifting of your body or the soft glide of sheets that follows. The feeling of Dick pressing one last, lingering kiss against your temple is likewise a distant sensation, though his words are just able to slip underneath the fog–

“I love you, baby—always.”

–and that five word declaration, spoken with all the gravity of an indisputable truth, is the last thing you hear before you give yourself over the land of dreams.

© notepadsandtealeaves/TheViperQueen, 2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[sailoreuterpe]

I may not be very comfortable with explicit fic, but I still wish that I had the skill to write BLT Burgers' first time. T_T

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

I was all set to work on posting the first chapter of the first fanfic I've ever written and then I saw a post about Tech being dead and now I am Sad.

I think I'm going to work on posting it anyway out of spite. It's absolute filth with Tech and the reader anyway so hopefully it will help ease the pain or something.

Still firmly in Camp Tech Lives and I will live out my existence in denial there.

[lilyharvord]

Eat Your Young (aka the mud scene)

excerpt: 

“Give me all of you.” She says after a moment of breathless silence. A bright flash of lightning splits his vision as he looks at her, for a brief heartbeat cutting all the lines in her face in sharp focus. His vision remains as a strange after image following the light as thunder grumbles. Before she can say anything else, he grabs her face and closes his mouth over hers. She breathes into his mouth and he immediately threads his fingers into her hair and digs his fingers in so she cannot move. She twists away to inhale, the sound ragged and sharp before she whispers, “Make me forget everything happening around us.”