#i mean it's definitely the snap filters too lol making my skin all clear and glowy but idk idk

[girlivealwaysbean]

do you guys think I should actually start smiling while showing my teeth

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[wroteclassicaly]

12 & 43 from the angst prompts with mr. andy pandy 😈🥳

Thank ya, thank ya, my lovely! ^_^ ❤️ I’m combining these two, so I hope you like it? Hehe!

Andy is a MAJOR asshole in this one! Idk, but that gets me going like nothing else, lol!

~*~

12. “You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.”

43. “You’re not someone I’ve ever understood, but I never thought I’d hate you as much as I do at this moment.”

You’d be a fucking liar with the most humerous poker face if you tried to play coy in knowing what led to your current predicament. It’s clear now that you are grasped in his sharp hooks, never to be freed to the world again. Andy Dolan fucks up his own life, so what does he do? He messes your chances up too.

“Misery loves company, baby, so I think you should get used to this.” He’d smirked, rough thumb pad stroking your wet cheek.

That was a mere seventy-two hours ago. He broke you down and convinced you that the only future you need is with him, that he won’t make it easy for you to have anything else. You’d called him a textbook definition abuser and he’d snorted, before literally snorting a fucking line.

“Nah, my lover. I’m a user. Learn the damn difference or get out. Not that you have many opportunities left.” He was hazily staring at you, getting off on his own drug induced joke.

When you’d agreed to have your potential employers come and have a meeting in Andy’s living room to look over your scripts, Andy promised he was going to be on his best behavior. And you believed him, using that newfound trust. But about halfway through your meeting hearing your boyfriend scream at his staff in the kitchen, you knew that things were going to be obliterated. Seconds later, all hell had broke loose. That and the dishes in the kitchen sink.

You’re sat here now, in the very same spot that you were earlier when Andy stumbled into the living room and began scattering your papers with a delighted sneer.

“S’ all bullshit, you know? Writers are pretentious little cunts. And this one here?” He tossed an arm around your shoulder, whisky smeared breath pouring over your flushed and humiliated face. “She is a ripe cunt if I’ve ever seen one...”

The hot tears couldn’t be stopped. Even the memory is horrifying to think back on.

“She’s okay to be right here with me. Where she belongs. I earn enough to keep her comfortable. And by the way, I am the man who pays for this house, so...” He had broken off his own dizzy sentence, Cheshire grinning himself into a stupor at your lost colleagues.

Despite your many pleas and apologies, they’d left minutes later. You remember that nasty, weighted feeling, like wet clothes clinging to your skin. You shift in discomfort, Andy’s voice still clear as day.

“You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.”

His pupils were dilated, that blue color abandoned at the stormy seas inside of him. He giggled, outright fucking giggled, leaving the room without an elaboration.

It’s quiet this morning, a light rain pattering the windows everytime the wind picks up. You stare a hole through your scattered works, heart having been torn out and stomped on. Andy openly mocked your vulnerabilities, your passion. And the fact that he’s probably going to assume things are okay, you’re more unsettled than you can stomach.

“Fuck me, what time is it, babe?” You hear his sleep-kissed voice coming from the kitchen as he enters into the living room.

He’s wearing a periwinkle blue robe that’s open, hair going in all different directions, his boxers tight against his freckled flesh. He rubs a hand across his face, then combs over his stubble. You don’t let him get near you, holding a palm up.

“Come near me and I will break every fucking thing in this place. Do you understand me, Andy?”

He looks momentarily confused, then spots your zoned vision. He gives a halfway grin, plopping down on the sofa beside you and picking up your shared pack of discarded smokes. He lights one and stares at you with an enriching inspection.

“I was fucked, baby. What can I say?” He crosses one leg over the other, muscles visible. He grips the outline of his thick cock to adjust.

“That you broke a promise? That you made an ass of yourself and ruined any chance that I had with my writing?” You snap back, standing to move in front of him, demanding to be heard.

Andy sighs, running a hand through his messy hair before raising to meet you, towering. He grips your waist and pulls you close, warm and messy. He lets his other arm rest out, cigarette filter pinched between his fingers. He’s nonchalant in the depth of his scorching whisper. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”

You feel as if you’ve been slapped. Stabbed even. Your gut is twisting so painfully that you can’t feel anything but the depressed anger.

“You’re a piece of shit, Andy Dolan! I can see why everyone leaves you...” You whisper the last part, woven tears coating your lips.

You shouldn’t have said it, despite his cruelty, but you do. Andy grips your forearm and spins you around, his own orbs wide and pained. It takes seconds before he reverts to his carnal state of being vile and mean. His mouth is hovering over yours, panting and strengthening. “The only future you’ll have is being stuffed by my cock. I told you that you can leave if you think you belong anywhere else. See how far you fucking get!”

He gives one last lingering pointed stare to your scripts and hits his cigarette a last time, putting the cherry out and scrubbing the butt down the finely printed paper. You’re not hiding your choking sobs or your heaving breaths, or your next choice of words.

“You’re not someone I’ve ever understood, but I never thought I’d hate you as much as I do at this moment.”

Andy tries to remain unbothered, but you know better. You continue on, wanting to hurt him the way that he’s hurting you. And you know that the only way you can do that is by leaving him alone.

“The problem is, I know the difference. And you know what, Andy? I’m out.” You don’t clarify yourself any further for him.

He tries to move towards you, cursing you and your name, his throat getting more strained and wet. You know he’s crying, which is why you force yourself to keep going, leaving him to figure out his own uncertain future. You’re not sure what yours will hold...

Angst Prompts

Andy babes tag list : @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @lovelylangdonx @fckinsupreme @littledemondani @9layerdevilfoodcake @plymptxn-reborn @jimmason @instinctsxbaby @ferndolan @infernwetrust @xavier-plymptons @xavierplympton @ritualmichael @codyfernuk @icylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @celestialrequiem @langdxn

[slasherkisss]

Hey! Omg requests are open! Okay I've had this one in my head for ages so here it is! Could I request like a one shot or headcanons on how your of Emry met his s/o? I love him a lot and really need more content for him lol. As always I love your writing!

[I am so flattered that you enjoy Emry so much! It means so much to me that he has a few fans lol. I wrote way too much for thiS SO I HOPE YOU LIKE LONG ONESHOTS-]

Feral

“Fucking pieces of shit,” You cursed to yourself as you kicked a stray rock somewhere into the foggy void of the forest around you, “Why is it always me who has to go ‘find help’? If they had just stopped at the last gas station and filled the air in our tires they wouldn’t be bitching about anything because they wouldn’t be stranded!”

It was supposed to be you and your friend’s last road trip together and, now, it was simply you in the forest as you wandered along a path one of the guys had noticed hidden tight against the edges of the overgrown Louisiana brush. A drawing of straws and a few more rock, paper, scissors matches later had determined that you were the unfortunate soul to explore the singular dirt road in hopes that the end would find you either at a small town or a home with a working phone that could be used to call for a tow truck back to the town that was now far too many miles away for you to walk.

Not that this was any fucking better.

Your body shuddered, not only because of the humid chill that seemed to set itself into the mossy earth, but because of a... sensation of some sorts. A strange feeling that burned into your stomach as your eyes became all too aware of how dark it was getting. Of how heavy the air felt and how thick the world around you grew on your back as your shirt stuck to your body with the sweat of walking for as long as you had been.

A snap of a twig echoed somewhere behind you and birds cawed angrily into the background, making you stop and turn your head with wide eyes. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you gazed against the thick trees and shrubs that obfuscated your vision from any possible danger. Your breath shook as you promised yourself that it was just the wind. Just an animal moving through the underbrush and minding its own business as it foraged. 

Peter told you about how pigs were the most intrusive species in the south nowadays. That was probably all it was, right?

You stood in the forest, debating whether to keep moving or step back as you moved your feet back and forth with an unsure bite of your lip.  You didn’t like this. It was like you were being watched... no... more than that, maybe?

Maybe you were being hunted.

Your feet moved then, but you were unsure of what direction other than forward. Forward and away from the beady nothingness that seemed to overcome your senses and rage at the instincts in the pits of your stomach as you moved.  Your walk had slowly turned into a jog and now that was beginning to turn into a run as the mist nipped at your heels like hungry hunting dogs, barking and baring misty teeth at your skin as you hurried with hot, ragged breaths into the night.

Your foot caught on a loose branch, sending you tumbling forward as your ankle made a disgustingly loud cracking noise under the pressure of the sudden juxtaposition. You cried out, catching yourself on the palms of your hands and letting the rocks and twigs dig into the tender flesh as you lay there, breathing heavily as the world around you spun with adrenaline. The silence was deafening around you and you saw a single drip of sweat fall from the tip of your nose down to the floor, where the earth soaked it up with greedy desire.

A crack and a growl echoed around you, the heavy snort of something inhuman shuffling in the dirt made your stomach curdle like spoiled milk and you dared to look upwards with a swallow.

The boar standing before you was massive. You had seen pigs at the petting zoo before but this was not one of those cute, domesticated little things you fawned over so much as a child certainly. Its tusks curled in on itself, sharp and fierce to match the drool along the rest of its teeth. They were stained with what looked to be the trace remains of blood against dirt and your hands dug into the foliage beneath you as you tried to move your feet. The warnings about the aggressive wild hogs eating human flesh made your blood run still as you winced in pain against your clearly broken bone. 

The pig shuffled and snorted, its drool increasing as it caught your scent. Its squeal was painful on your ear drums as tears welled in your eyes. Was this how you were going to die? Your mind raced as you stepped back in terror, shuffling on your stomach in hopes that it, somehow, wouldn’t see you.

You didn’t have to.

There was an additional crack in the brush and a growl far more terrifying than the one the pig had squealed out reverberated in the depths of your mind. The shuffling of the earth increased at a fervent pace, as if matching your heart, and you barely registered the blur of a form that broke itself out into the clearing with you and your swiney captor.

The sound of the struggle would haunt you for the rest of your life, just as the sight would. A blur of a human had tackled the menacing creature down to the floor, wrestling vehemently as the pig squealed with anger and surprise. Matching that noise was a set of chattering teeth and snarling growls as the being raised a large, curved hook into the air and sunk its end into the pig’s flesh, making it scream louder as blood spurted out of an artery that the cool metal hit. 

It took you a moment of staring to taste the blood on your lips. To register the blurry vision of your gaze. To understand that the blood had spattered on you as the pig’s tusks gnashed and clawed with its own fight of frustration. The struggle lasted for longer than you could understand, time blurring together in your shock until you watched the creature - no, you corrected, the man - reach down with two hands and wrench the creature’s jaws apart, snapping them and its head with a sickening break of bones and rendering it limp in the darkness.

All was quiet then, save for the sound of the man’s breathing as he gazed down at the prey he had killed.

Shirtless and with long, tangled brown hair that molded with grit and blood at its ends, the being stood well over six feet tall. Though you could only see his back, you would be fool not to notice the definition of muscle in the shape of his back, each shape curved with years of athletic exercise and unstoppable power. Scars littered the back and curled around his side to the front, where a chain wrapped itself sturdily against his body. You guessed it was attached to the hook. You didn’t move. You didn’t breath.

The being lifted something off of his face and leaned down. You caught the faintest glimmer of a hungry, wide, and drooling mouth in the moonlight before he descended downwards.

Fangs pulled greedily at raw flesh. They broke through the thick skin and gristle of the dead boar and pulled at the tendons with a fierce movement of his jaw. More blood splattered across the being and he spit out the hunk of useless fur and unchewable skin before reaching down with a free hand and spreading the new wound open to gain more access to the meat beneath it, like a treasure trove.

Handfuls of that sickly copper scented flesh was scooped open and thrust into his waiting mouth. The forest echoed with the heavy, disgusting chews of something you were now sure was just as monstrous as the pig it had killed. 

What could you do? What should you do? Your mind panicked.

Slowly you shifted your body, seeing if you could at least crawl a decent length away from the sight before you. To somehow get back to your friends and the safety of your car and-

A twig snapped and his head snapped with it, his gaze forward as he finished a mouthful of raw flesh. You cursed under your breath as you tried to sit up.

The man slid something down his face this time before turning to face you, chest heaving with an out of breath echo as he grabbed your gaze with his own. 

It was a mask he was wearing, the design hand crafted and messy to say the least, with one eye hole that watched you with the careful deduction of a predator. Your stomach twisted and you didn’t move again, gazing into his eyes as well as the two of you sat there for a long, endless moment of quiet in the world.

“Um... I think it was... going to eat me,” You whispered out awkwardly as you pointed to the pig, “I... Um... thanks for... eating it instead?”

Another scalding silence. The man tilted his head, some of his messy strands of hair falling into his masked face as he did so. The action would have looked cute on a being that wasn’t holding a giant hook and dripping with fresh pig’s blood. You simply stared back into that bright, curious green eye that held your gaze like a serpent’s might its seductor. You felt like, if your mind would panic less, you might be able to have a telepathic conversation with this guy.

Then he started to crawl towards you.

His fingertips dug into the earth beneath them, his limbs suddenly far too long for his body as he made his way over on all fours like some sort of feral animal. Your fight or flight reflexes echoed again and you scrambled away, only to cry out in pain as your ankle reminded you of its painfully broken sections of bone. The scream did not make him pause in his movements. He did not stop until he was in front of you, the nose of his mask touching your own and his hot breath filtering around the edges of his mask and hitting you with humid gusts. You held your own breath, fearful of its effect as the scent of blood and gore overpowered your mind. 

A hand reached out, touching the ankle that was broken and giving it a squeeze. You cried out again as his hand tightened and then let go, as if experimenting. He tilted his head again.

“I... I broke it.” You whimpered out, shutting your eyes tight, fearing that your fate might be one shared with the pig’s who had made you run so fast. 

Instead you were suddenly weightless. Your gaze snapped open to find yourself above the ground, in the arms of the masked man who had previously terrified you. His hands smeared blood on your arms and gore soaked into your clothes as his entire form overwhelmed your own with its mere presence. You felt the cold of the chain and the hook dig into your flesh, giving you goosebumps as the edges of his bloody hair tickled your face and made you gag with its rotting scent. 

And suddenly you were carried off into the darkness of the woods with nothing but apprehension to keep you from screaming in terror in the grip of such a feral monster. 

[bigskydreaming]

LOL, any time I try and make plans or estimates, the universe is like hahahaha, surprise, fuck-o! so, you think I’d stop doing that but I never learn, OH WELL.

Anyway, obvsly didn’t update LC like I thought I was going to last week, but my previous intentions laid out in that post still hold, just....slower. Got yet another CT scan to get done today, so off to that in a few, but let’s call this Lightning Crashes, Chapter 6A for now, with the actual fic actually updated once all three parts of Chapter 6 are ready.

CHAPTER 6A

Two more anticlimactic weeks into the most exciting thing to ever happen to her, Kira was forced to come to one of two conclusions:

1) She was completely paranoid, delusional and a bit of a narcissist, convinced everyone and their mother was out to get her or at least drive her nuts

or

2) She really was the focus of some secret, shadowy government agency that employed adorable five foot tall freshmen with scraggly peach fuzz in place of the facial hair they were in a clear hurry to grow because who knows, masculinity merit badges or whatever. Boys are weird.

Anyway. It was definitely one of those two things. Problem was, she had no idea which.

She didn’t feel like she was in a super big hurry to get confirmation one way or the other though, no matter how crazy it was making her. So she made an abrupt heel turn and noped her way in the opposite direction when she saw Scott Vasquez waiting anxiously outside her English classroom.

Lurking, she meant. That was definite lurking behavior, no matter if said lurker was shuffling his feet, biting his lip and looking all sorts of nervous and cute while running a hand through his hair. The movement made the bicep beneath his long-sleeved shirt go all taut and…muscle-y. And…oh my god what was she doing, what was wrong with her, do not crush on your stalker Kira, he is not cute, what is your brain damage even. Maybe she had Stockholm Syndrome. Did that still count if he was just stalking her and hadn’t actually kidnapped her yet?

Yet? YET? Oh good god, where was an intervention when she needed one? She needed better friends, clearly, there would be no kidnapping, PERIOD, what the hell self, that is not relationship goals!

UGH WHY WAS SHE THINKING ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP IN THE CONTEXT OF WEIRDO CUTE BOY WHO WAS STALKING HER???

“Kira, wait up!” She heard Scott call out behind her and her skin did that weird tingling thing that made her blood start to buzz like liquid lightning crackling through her veins. Rude, even his voice was hot, it was all deep but soft and how dare evil government agencies employ not just cute boys but cute boys with hot, throaty voices, that was just genius and downright…insidious.

“Sorry, I’m late to class!” Kira yelled over her shoulder and quickened her steps. She could hear him jogging to keep up, not even breathing hard, because of course he was athletic too.

“Umm, I know, we’re in the same English class. It’s back that way?”

“No habla ingles!”

…she clearly was not qualified for like, any of this.

Scott pulled ahead of her and turned around so he was walking backwards. He held his hands out in front of him in an obvious effort to come off as safe and non-threatening, making no move to come any closer even when she skidded to a stop. He looked…concerned. And maybe even a little amused?

“What?” She snapped when seconds continued to tick by without another word from him. He blinked and then shook his head like coming out of a daze.

“Sorry, I just, that was kinda funny because we’re also in the same Spanish class, y’know?”

Her face burned. Right. That.

“Well, its not like I could pretend to speak anything else. Just because I’m Korean and Japanese doesn’t mean I actually speak either of those things, okay?”

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t assume you did?”

She deflated. Everyone always said the best defense was a good offense but nobody ever mentioned that staying on the offensive was really hard when the other person refused to get offended.

“Well. Good.”

He nodded then and took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. Which was all kinds of weird, because what did HE have to be nervous about? He was the one stalking HER!

“Okay, so. Look. I’m really sorry for like, all of this. We went about this all wrong and I don’t blame you for being freaked out and I’d like to start over and just…can we go somewhere and talk? And I can try and explain? Anywhere you want, just not…here here.”

That was not remotely something she was prepared for. Not that she was prepared for any of this. Whatever the hell this was. She took a step back, trying to gauge his sincerity even as she became aware for the first time that they were still in the middle of the hall and it was in between classes. While other students were giving them a wide berth, there was no shortage of curious glances being thrown their way. Her skin tingled again. She was not at all used to being the center of attention and this did not feel anywhere near as rewarding as it seemed in her occasional (well, rare, really rare) daydreams about being super popular.

After a few moments of consideration, she huffed an aggravated breath that blew stray hair out of her face and stomped over to an out of the way alcove where a little-used exit led to a small outdoor study area. She did not exude grace. Scott gave her a few seconds head start, and then when she stopped in the alcove and made no attempt to go outside, he hesitantly joined her in the out of the way doorway. Still in clear view of everyone in the hall but no longer right in the midst of everything.

He made an effort to still leave a few feet of separation between them, out of arms’ reach. Which she did not appreciate exactly, because she did not appreciate any of this and wanted that on record. But she did note it. Unfortunately, Kira also noted that the less threatening he became, the more aware of his obnoxious cuteness she became. And she was not a fan.

Its not like she’d ever spent a ton of time contemplating what her priorities would be should she ever star in some government conspiracy young adult dystopian adventure. But she’d always kinda assumed that at the very least she’d be able to go five seconds without concentrating on the way the mysterious secrecy boy in said adventure had soft brown eyes that managed to sparkle even though that was not an adjective normally associated with that particular eye color. Seriously, how was he doing that. Stop it.

Oh thank god, her ire was back.

“Look, I may not know what’s going on here, but let’s make one thing clear,” Kira hissed in a low voice. She was the one to close the distance between them, which…why, as she stepped forward and jabbed a finger at his chest. He didn’t flinch. She did though, kinda, because his pecs were like rock solid, what the hell, this was so unfair. “I don’t care who you are, but I, mister, am no Bella Swan.”

Scott blinked. His mouth fell open a little as he tilted his head, his eyes going distant and a little glazed as she could almost see his thoughts racing behind them, trying to figure something out. Then they focused again and he looked down at her with a frown.

“I don’t know who that is,” he admitted. “Is she in one of our classes?”

She stared. “What? No. Twilight?”

His frown deepened. He looked around the hall for a second, landing on a patch of sunlight on the floor beneath a window. Then he looked back at her, his eyes crinkling with something that vaguely registered as concern.

“Kira, it’s ten in the morning.”

What? “Yeah, I know. How do you not know what Twilight is? By Stephanie Meyer? Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, you seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

Scott’s face cleared, eyes widening and cheeks darkening slightly. The top of his ears reddened. “Oh right, sorry,” he said, obviously embarrassed. Ew, now she felt bad and also he was back to being cute. Why was she even bothering at this point. “The book. Got it. Sorry, I haven’t read it. Is it good?”

Her brain had broken like, at least ten minutes ago, so she decided to let her mouth just do whatever. It’s not like an actual filter had contributed anything useful to this conversation.

“I mean, its not bad, but I wouldn’t call it good exactly. I was talking more about the movie anyway, but…oh my god this is not the point. I’m just…look, so there’s a girl in it and she gets involved in all this weird stuff because of the hot vampire boy in her class and it felt like there were parallels to this whatever that all this is. So I’m just saying, I am no Bella Swan because I think she gets a lot of criticism that’s not totally fair but at the same time she definitely makes choices that I think are dumb and that’s all. I was just clarifying that do not expect that I am someone who will make dumb choices just because. Ugh you know what, just forget it.”

She wanted to melt into a puddle five seconds after her brain did catch up and realized she’d basically told him she’d categorized him as her hot YA love interest. But in the one bit of good fortune bestowed on her and her dignity today, that was not the part he’d fixated on. If anything, he looked weirdly insulted.

“Wait, do you think I’m a vampire?”

She stared at him helplessly.

“You know what, I don’t even care if you’re gonna axe murder me or abduct me to take part in some weird government experiments. Fine, let’s have your freaking conversation. Come on.”

[lovelydob]

The Accidental Friendzone

Stiles x Virgin!Reader Author: lovelydob Words: 4.4k

Warnings: NSFW Smut. Jeep sex, unprotected sex (yeah, don’t do this. real life don’t work this way.), dry humping, female masturbation, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talking, and swearing. Also a sassy bff Lydia, a tiny amount of angst and self pity, low self confidence and a complicated pining triangle? Idk if that’s a thing lol.

A/N: This is the fic you all voted for in celebration for reaching 1k! Thank you for that! I hope you guys like it even though it turned out wayyy fluffier than I thought it was going to. *shrugs* Oh well. I loved writing it, and I think it’s pretty cute. This is 194% better than my first time, like wtf where was my Stiles? Thanks to my bff @ninja-stiles for helping me choose a title and look over it for me! Don’t be afraid to let me know what you think!

“There he is.” Lydia whispered to you while shoving your items in your locker, making you roll your eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this. We both know he’d only be coming over here to talk to you.” You said as you slam your locker shut and face her.

“That’s not true. You two have been getting pretty close, don’t think I haven’t noticed you ditching me for him lately.” She joked, sending you a devious grin.

“Yeah. Sorry, I just really like him Lyds. You understand, right?”

“Of course! Everyone needs a good lay every once in a while.” Lydia says nonchalantly, your elbow instantly connecting to her ribs at the statement.

“What?! It’s true!” She continued.

“Yeah, except I’ve been friendzoned by him. Hard.” You sighed again, opening the water in your hand to take a few swigs.

“I bet that’s not the only thing you wished he’d do to you hard.” Lydia laughed, this time guarding her ribs with crossed arms.

Water sprayed from your mouth, a few students in the hall looking at your with confused looks as they pass by. You were just thankful you didn’t hit any of them with the small droplets of water.

“Lydia. Can you not reveal that sensitive information in public as loudly as you just did, please? Jesus.” You groaned as you closed the water bottle, glancing back at Stiles who was rummaging through his locker, thankfully unaware of the discussion between you two.

“Also, it’s kinda hard to do when all he talks about is you. No offense, but not my biggest turn on.”

“That’s a valid point.” Lydia agreed, peeking her head over your shoulder. “Oh, look who’s coming right this way.” She smiled at you.

You turn around to see Stiles walking up to you. His tight, red shirt clinging over his chest and biceps, making your body ache with lust.

“Holy shit.” You whisper to yourself, Lydia elbowing you this time to tell you to shut up.

“What are you two giggling about over here?” Stiles smiled, glancing between us both.

“Oh, just that story you told us a while ago. Freshman year when Scott almost hit you with his baseball bat because he thought someone was breaking in.” Lydia was quick to come up with an excuse.

“Oh.” Stiles chuckled, adjusting his book bag on his shoulders. “Yeah, still haven’t forgave him for that by the way.”

Awkward silence grew between you until Stiles cleared his throat.

“So, you going to the party tonight?” He directly asked Lydia, making you feel out of place.

Lydia glanced at you and back to Stiles. “Yes, we’re going to the party tonight.”

“Okay, cool. Sorry, just didn’t think Y/N was going, not really her thing. See you there.” Stiles smiled at you before walking past us and through the exit of the building.

“See? He doesn’t even notice me when you’re around.” You frowned, your heart aching at his words. Your best friend wrapped her arms around you tightly, comforting you like she always did in situations like this.

“Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll fix that tonight. You just need to get his attention in a different way.”

You flattened your jean shorts with the palms of your hands as Lydia pulled up to the house, the bass of the music already making its way to your ears before you can even get out of the car.

“Lyds, are you sure this isn’t too much?”

Lydia looked you over before fixing a few stray hairs on your head. “Nope, you look perfect. I promise. If this doesn’t work on Stiles, I’ll start to question his sexuality.” She joked, pulling out a tube of red lipstick from her purse and handing it to you. “The last touch. Put it on, it’ll make you feel like you can conquer the world.”

You stifled a laugh as you bought the tube to your lips. “Well, we all know I’m going to need the confidence.”

You finished applying it before handing it back to her, her face flashing one of her famous smiles. “Don’t worry, I have a fix for that too.”

You make your way up to the house, the door already open and inviting as you step inside and Lydia was welcomed by several people. You waved awkwardly as she introduced you to the people, recognizing some of them from school. A few eyes lingering on you more than usual, making you nibble on your bottom lip, a thing you only did when you were anxious.

“Need a drink?” Lydia asked suddenly as she pulled you towards the kitchen.

Before you know it, Lydia is handing you a red solo cup from the island inside the house. You decide not to argue with her, seeing she probably wouldn’t hear you over the loud music anyways. You brought the cup up to your lips, slowly sipping the warming liquid as you glanced around the party. You were looking for someone in particular, but you would never admit it, not even to yourself.

You scanned the room some more before your gaze connected with someone else’s. The amber eyes bored into your own for a split second before you quickly averted your attention back to the cup in your hand, taking a few gulps to calm the butterflies and self doubt currently knotting your stomach.

“Lydia.” You grabbed her arm and pulled her away from her current conversation. Her eyes widened once she looked at your current state, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead.

“Oh my God, Y/N. Are you okay? You look flushed. And you're sweating profusely.” She wrinkled her nose.

“I change my mind, this was a bad idea. It was fun while it lasted, but I'm leaving now before I embarrass myself even more.” You went on before chugging the rest of the drink in your hands while Lydia stared at you questioningly.

“He saw me. And he fucking stared, Lydia. I don't know what that means, but it can't be good, right?” Lydia glanced around the room nonchalantly, until she found him perched on the back of the couch in the living room. His intense gaze was still on you, eyes roaming from the top of your head, lingering on the skin revealed by your jean shorts before he quickly snapped his head back to his conversation with Scott.

A giggle left Lydia’s lips once she realized what was happening, your face twisting in confusion.

“What? What's the matter, did I do something?”

“Y/N, he's eye-fucking you.” She said bluntly.

Your face had reddened even more, if it were possible. This new information and the alcohol in your veins fueled an intoxicating warmth in the rest of your body, including your core.

“Should I go talk to him? What do I say?” you quickly asked Lydia, filling your cup again while you were still standing by the island.

“Yeah, I don't think you'll have to since he's already making his way over here.”

Before you could reply you felt a large hand land itself on your shoulder, followed by Stiles’ lips against your ear.

“Not that I don't think you're usually beautiful, but you look amazing right now.” He simply said, making a shiver run down your spine.

This was the first time he has ever mentioned anything about your appearance besides the occasional ‘I like your shirt’. He has definitely never called you beautiful before, but you could see yourself getting used to it.

Lydia excused herself from the conversation with some made up excuse, shooting two thumbs up your way before disappearing and leaving the both of you alone.

“Um, thanks.” You said as you looked him over. “You look great, too. As usual.” Your eyes widened in horror as you cursed your lack of filter from the drinks you've had. Stiles chuckled at the statement before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter? I haven't drank anything yet since I'm supposed to be DD later. Plus, it looks like your ride is going to be busy with someone else.” His face fell some before you turned to see what he was talking about, making the connection when you saw Lydia flirting with some football jock from a different school.

“I know that feeling” You frowned. You agreed to his offer before he could ask any questions, taking your hand in his before pulling his keys out of his pocket as you both made your way out the front door.

The ride was quiet the whole way to his ‘secret spot’ as he called it, except the low volume of the radio playing random songs in the background. The drinks from earlier still causing a fuzzy feeling in your body enough to dull your nerves.

The jeep turned onto a secluded two-track, just trees and dirt until you eventually came to a pasture, wide open and bright with shining stars.

“Oh my God, Stiles. This is beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

“Yeah, the closest town is miles away so the stars are always super bright. I thought you'd like it as much as I do. I always come out here when I need to clear my head or relax. I've never even told Scott about it.” He explained, grabbing a blanket from the back seat and throwing it over the both of you. “Just incase you get cold.”

“Wait, so why are you showing me?”

Stiles turned his head to look at you, studying your face for a second before answering you.

“Because I wanted to.” He shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

Silence fell over you both besides the faint crackle of the radio playing songs, your head getting lost in the lyrics as you watched the stars above you through the window for a while before his voice startled you from your thoughts.

“You ever feel like just moving on?” He asked, now looking at you, the question taking you by surprise.

“Wha-, what do you mean?”

“You said you knew the feeling, feeling of rejection and not being good enough.” You understood now, realizing he must have heard you at the party.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard. “Yeah, sometimes I guess. Some days are harder than others. I hate not being noticed by him. At least, the way I want him to notice me. That's actually why I'm wearing all of this… stuff. Lydia said it would quote ‘get his attention’.” You chuckled, gesturing toward your body.

“I was going to ask. It doesn't seem like something you’d normally wear. But you really do look amazing. You have a great ass.” Stiles grinned at you, making you blush and wiggle in your seat.

“Did it work?” He asked, biting his bottom lip

“I don't know, you tell me.” You whispered, dropping the bomb without warning, shocking even yourself that you finally said it.

You stared at Stiles for a moment before his eyes darted to your lips before returning to your eyes again.

“I knew it.” He licked his lips, making your heart rate increase. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?” He said, turning towards you more.

“You were always preoccupied, Stiles. And always seemed generally uninterested.”

“Not anymore.” Stiles pulled you closer to him, gently wrapping his arm around you as you nuzzled your face into his neck. “I'm done wasting my time and energy on someone who will never love me back.” Your heart fluttered but broke at the same time at his confession before he continued.

“I had a feeling. The way you started to act around me, it was in front of my face the whole time. It finally clicked when you looked at me at the party. The way you turned away when you saw me already looking at you. I finally put two and two together and decided then and there I was done wasting my time with her when you were right there. You’re one of my best friends, Y/N. And I’d love to be something more if you’re willing to let me. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I’m sorry if I hurt you because of it, I didn’t mean it.”

Your lips parted in awe, completely overwhelmed with emotion as your eyes filled with tears from his words.

“It’s okay.” You mumbled as you looked at him, his face inching closer and closer to yours with each passing moment before your eyes fluttered shut and his lips connected with yours.

This moment is something you had daydreamed about for months, and the thoughts alone did not do the real kiss any justice. His soft, pink lips pushed against your own before they lead you to a more needy, desperate kiss. His mouth enveloped your own, his hands wrapping around your body as you felt his tongue swipe your lower lip, asking for entrance.

You obliged, opening your mouth to meet his soft, delicate tongue to your own. The taste of him was sweet, and you could see yourself easily becoming addicted to the new sensation.

Stiles pulled you into him as close as possible, gripping your shirt in his hands before pulling away suddenly.

“Come’re.” He said lowly as he motioned to his lap, making your panties soak instantly.

You followed his order and swung your leg over his body to straddle him, the bulge in his pants growing harder with each second as it pressed against your core. He pulled the lever on his seat, reclining all the way back and bringing you with him, attaching his lips back onto yours hungrily.

Stiles threaded his fingers in your hair as you ground yourself into his lap in search of much needed friction, causing him to groan into your mouth. His fingers popped the button of your jean shorts, taking you by surprise for a second but you welcomed it by sitting up and removing your own shirt in front of him. Stiles followed your actions by removing his shirt from his body, tossing it in the empty seat next to him.

A mess of kisses were shared between you as condensation started to fog up the windows as a natural privacy barrier, the heat of your bodies growing with each passing second.

Stiles cupped your covered breasts with his hands, your own hands undoing the button and zipper on his pants between you.

“Fuck.” He breathed, “I want you so bad.”

“I want you too Stiles. But I'm kind of nervous since I've never done this before.” Stiles brows furrowed, a look of confusion adorned his face.

“You’re still a virgin?”

You nodded bashfully, looking away from him and pushing your hair behind your ears anxiously. He kept looking at you for a moment before speaking again.

“We don't have to do anything you don't want to do.”

I shook my head at what he said, “No, that's not the problem. I would actually probably prefer losing it to you because I'm already so close and comfortable with you… I trust you, Stiles.”

“Okay,” he smiled at you, “so what is the problem? Is there a problem?”

You breathed out a sigh, trying to calm your nerves. “I guess I'm just nervous in general. I've been told it can hurt the first time.” You admitted to him, your face heating up in embarrassment.

Stiles looked at you understandingly, before leaning back in towards you to place another tender kiss to your lips. He then brushed his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I promise, I'll do everything I can to make it as pain-free and enjoyable as possible for you. If you decide you want to stop, we'll stop then and there. Just talk to me, okay?” He had calmed your nerves enough to push yourself back on him, pressing your lips to his neck in a few gentle kisses.

He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, pulling it down your arms slowly before tossing it somewhere in the jeep. His hand instinctively fondled your breasts, his fingertips brushing against your now sensitive nipples. You arched your back to press your chest towards him more, not wanting the pleasurable feeling to end. You almost let out a whine when it does for a second, until you feel his mouth surround it instead. His tongue worked over the bud and you grew wetter by the minute, his tongue circling each one equally as you carded your fingers through his hair.

You slipped your hand into your pants to find some relief of your now aching and slick pussy, Stiles moaning at the sight but quickly pulling your hand from your pants and replacing it with his own hand. His large fingers slid along your folds slowly, warming you up before popping a finger inside of you. You moaned at the new feeling, his finger rubber your walls lazily and you felt yourself contracting around the single digit, your body letting him know you needed more.

“Talk to me, what do you want?” He breathed, panting heavily into your ear.

“More.” Stiles obliged and slipped a second finger into you, scissoring your walls apart to ease the ache between your legs.

“Fuck you're so tight, even with just my fingers.” He continued rubbing them inside of you, his palm pressing against your now throbbing nub.

“Oh shit, Stiles.” You moaned, your body now moving in sync with his hand in search of more friction.

“What do you need, baby girl?”

You thought for a moment before an idea popped into your head, your body tingling in excitement at the thought.

“Your mouth.”

Stiles face lit up at the word, his usual light eyes now darkened and hooded with lust.

“I have an idea.” He said as he pulled his hand from you and quickly grabbed the blanket in the passenger seat. He brought the seat he was in back up before motioning you to crawl in back, him close behind you. He shook the blanket out, laying it down to make a makeshift bed.

He pushed you gently onto the blanket, attacking your neck with open mouthed kisses as you arched your body against his in search of friction. Stiles played with the loops of your shorts and you shook your head in agreement.

He pulled them and your panties down your legs and off of your body, dropping them next to him as he turned to look at you and his breath hitched in his throat.

“You're so fucking beautiful.” He commented, sliding his fingers through your folds again, making you squirm.

“Look at you writhing for me, you're dripping wet. Is this all mine?” He whispered seductively, making you moan at his words. Who would have thought Stiles Stilinski was such a dirty talker?

“I-I need you, Stiles.” You said through ragged breaths.

Stiles pushed his fingers back into you, your head rolling back at the feeling of them filling you once again. The feeling was amplified when you felt him open your legs even wider and nuzzle his face close to your pussy, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and you grew even more excited.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby girl.”

You groaned at his dirty talk, your body so wound up you knew it wouldn't take you long to snap. Your breathing was uneven, body flushed as your pussy throbbed with need.

“I'm going to cum if you keep talking like that.” Stiles smiled at you mischievously, picking up the pace of his fingers that were rubbing your walls deliciously.

“Do it. Cum all over my fingers, baby girl. Let me feel how much you're enjoying yourself. I bet you've thought about this so many times, touching yourself to the thought of me. How many times have you came thinking if me?”

“Oh fuck, Stiles.” Your back arched as you felt your orgasm creep up on you.

“How many times?” Stiles asked again, watching your face intently from between your legs.

“Every night.” You admitted, Stiles smiling at your answer before flattening his tongue against your bundle of nerves, making you moan his name repeatedly.

You felt your your high hit you like a freight train, hard and intense as your walls squeezed around his fingers and juices soaked his hand. You struggled to catch your breath, only his name escaping your mouth as you panted. He withdrew his fingers from you once you started to come down, your body still twitching with each pass of his tongue over your slit as he lapped up all of your juices.

“Still want to do this?” Stiles asked you as he palmed himself through his pants, his face completely lust-blown as he looked at your naked body in front of him. You nodded once and Stiles pulled his pants down to his knees, fisting his dick in his hand a few times.

You glanced down to his hand and your breath hitched in your throat at his size. He let go of himself before settling between your legs, his cock rubbing through your folds.

“Just tell me if you want to stop. I promise I'll take it slow.”

You answered him by wrapping your hand around him and lining him up with your entrance, and he let out a low growl at the feeling of your hand around him.

“I need you, Stiles.”

Stiles gently pushed himself into you, taking it slow as he proceeded inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You felt an uncomfortable, full feeling for a minute as he kissed you feverishly to keep your mind off of it until the pain started to dull. His dick throbbed against your walls, pulsing along with each heartbeat you felt in his chest.

“You're doing great, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear as he peppered kisses along your neck.

Your body started to move against him involuntarily, asking him for more. He caught on and pulled himself from you, only to slowly push himself back in. You winced in pain for a second, Stiles freezing his actions to console you.

“You okay? We should stop if it hurts.” He said as he looked over you with a concerned eyes.

“No, I'm okay.”

Stiles nodded before continuing his slow thrusts, getting you warmed up and stretched for him. Your walls gripped him tightly, and you could tell he was purposely holding back for your comfort.

“You're so tight.” He groaned, watching your face as he started picking up his speed. When he noticed your eyes roll to the back of your head, he knew he found your spot and you were starting to enjoy it.

“You like that baby girl? You gotta tell me, remember?”

“Fuck, yes Stiles. You feel so good inside of me, but you're so big.” You huffed out, Stiles picking up his pace even more.

“But you're taking it so well. Do you want to cum?” You shivered before nodding your head.

“Please?”

Stiles propped himself up on his knees, spreading your knees even wider for him as he started to piston himself into you at the perfect angle, prodding that sensitive spot inside of you with every thrust. Your body was on the edge of bliss, every nerve tingling at the sensation of Stiles fucking you. You've waited so long for him, and you finally got to give yourself to him.

You opened your eyes to look at him, his face contorted in pure pleasure as he watched himself disappear inside of you over and over. You melted at the sight of him, the fact that he was enjoying this as much as you were had only pushed you closer.

That was until Stiles looked at you hazily and started rubbing your engorged clit relentlessly with his thumb.

Your orgasm happened quickly after, with Stiles following close behind. You locked your legs around him as you rode it out and you could feel him fill you up with each throb of his dick. Your heart flooded with emotion as he chanted your name, something you've always wanted to hear.

It was blissful and sweet once you both came down. You cuddled in the back of the jeep, only the blanket covering your tangled bodies as you talked about everything. You fell asleep in his arms, the soft thumps of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep slumber.

You were awoken by bright lights shining through Stiles’ front window, quickly getting up and wrapping the blanket around your body.

“Stiles!” You shook him awake, his face confused once he saw the lights and looked out the window.

“Shit! It's my dad.” He threw his boxers and pants on before jumping in the front seat to roll down the window and answer his father's knocks.

“Hey, dad.” Stiles greeted him nonchalantly. The sheriff had a confused look on his face once he noticed you sitting in the back in only a blanket.

“Hey, Mr. Stilinski.”

“Stiles, what are you doing out here? And why is Y/N naked? You know what, actually I don't even want to know.” The sheriff said as he shook his head.

“We were just camping, um, in the jeep… and it got too hot?”

The sheriff held up his hand to tell him to stop as he shook his head. “I don't want to hear details, son.” He paused for a moment. “Just make sure you ‘camp' somewhere a little more private next time.” Stiles shook his head in agreement.

“And make sure you take her to breakfast or something, get her something to eat. Be a gentleman.” Mr. Stilinski patted his son's shoulder before leaning toward him. “Get your ass home as soon as you drop her off.”

“Already planned on it, dad.” Stiles sighed, his cheeks brightening in embarrassment.

“Nice seeing you, miss Y/L/N.”

“You too, Mr. Stilinski.” You hid your face behind your hands.

The sheriff walked away and Stiles rolled up his window. You dressed yourself in silence before hopping up to the passenger seat. Stiles held his hand out to you after a minute and you took it happily. You we're going to comment on the situation, but Stiles stopped you before you could, shaking his head back and forth quickly. You finally made it to the pavement before he spoke.

“You want some breakfast?”

“That sounds amazing.” You said as you nuzzled your face into his shoulder, trying to hide your face as you laughed.

TAGS: @golddaggers  @fox-lau @lovefilledtragedy @little-nya 

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[doodlelolly0910]

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N:  *pokes head in* Hi guys! So some of you may have noticed there wasn't an update from me last week. If you follow me on here, you already knew there wouldn't be one, but I thought I would acknowledge that here as well. I struggled a lot with this chapter, and had a lot of personal issues with writing in general over the last week. I definitely apologize and appreciate all of your patience while I worked through my mental kinks. If you ever have any questions, or you just want to know what's going on with me or my writing, just send em a message or an ask. My inboxes are always open. You can follow me here as well, I’m usually moaning about my writing woes on my blog anyhow lol. More than ever this week, thank you thank you thank you to my wonderful beta and friend @kmomof4 for being so awesome and supportive, and also I will forever be in melting fangirl joy over the beautiful art that @courtorderedcake made for this story. Give her some love, and read all her stuff. She's amazing. And last, but not least, thank YOU, my lovely readers. The fact that y'all take time out of your day to read anything of mine just fills me with joy. So thank you. So much. Without further ado, here's chapter 16!

Chapter 16

Why she was still so affected by a stupid kiss, Emma would never know.

But here she was, studiously avoiding looking over to where Hook was standing with a small, rotund man called Smee of all things (oh, the irony) in order to obtain something that was not very easy to obtain. Which was apparently what William Smee excelled at, obtaining hard to get objects. She hazarded a glance at the two men, simply to find out what was taking so damn long, and immediately regretted it.

Smee was scrutinizing her, his distrust clear as day, but that wasn't what threw her. It was the set of bright blue eyes that were locked on her rapidly reheating face and the peek of tongue that slipped past Hook's lips as he swiped it over them. He thumbed the scruff on the edge of his jaw, responding to something Smee said half heartedly, his gaze staying resolutely on her face.

She couldn't look away fast enough.

Good man, Milah whispered without warning. Emma jumped, her face reddening further, utterly embarrassed to be caught in some sort of moment with Hook by his dead ex-lover. Slowly, the scent of jasmine filtered into her senses.

“Hello to you, too,” Emma grumbled, then froze, her eyes widening and her brows climbing her forehead.

Did she know about the kiss?!

Yes, Milah murmured and Emma felt her stomach turn as the spirit answered her unasked question. Good man. Worthy.

Emma's heart stuttered through a change in gears in her chest before ramping up in speed. She swallowed thickly, trying to think of a response but coming up entirely empty. She looked to where the two men talked out of the corner of her eye and saw them turn and walk into the building.

“Can you just… not… do that. We get along now. That's enough,” Emma said through gritted teeth. A silence descended in the car around Emma.

Good man.

The final whispered words faded away along with the scent of Milah’s perfume and Emma was alone again. She sighed heavily, Milah's words weighing on her already heavy mind.

Emma startled as the door opened to the passenger side of the bug, but she recovered quickly as Hook settled himself in beside her. He didn't appear to have anything new with him and Emma's brow knitted together in confusion. He glanced at her face and then quickly away and she just knew that he had done something she didn't approve of.

“All set, Swan, let's go,” he said, patting the dashboard with his good hand and shifting in his seat. She didn't move to start the car, only staring at him intently, trying to figure out just what it was that he was hiding.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and turned his head only slightly to get a better look at her stone faced expression.

“You know, vehicles usually function better once they're running.” He gestured to the ignition with his hooked arm, still not making eye contact.

“What did you do?” she asked bluntly and Killian looked genuinely surprised before steeling his features once more.

“Well you saw most of it. We had a chat, went inside, and now it's time to leave.”

“And what happened while you were inside, Killian?” He winced at her use of his given name.

“Business,” he replied, his tone clipped. He turned back to look out the windshield.

“What kind of business?”

“The kind you needn’t concern yourself with, love,” he said softly, but his tone brokered no arguments. Emma studied him for a moment longer. The way his dark hair fell over his forehead, his bright blue eyes avoiding hers. His jaw ticked, not in anger, but frustration. Her senses still fired off red flags that he had done something he shouldn’t have, but Emma recognized his behavior for what it was. He was trying to protect her.

So she let it go.

For now.

Wordlessly, she reached up and turned the keys dangling from the ignition, the engine to the little yellow bug rumbling to life behind them, and she drove them back to the compound. As soon as they had gotten back, Emma hadn’t even needed to worry about putting space between them. Twilight had already descended around them and Hook wasted no time in disappearing into the shadows between buildings.

“Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow,” he said before he vanished. He was obviously avoiding her, but that was fine by Emma. If he hadn’t put the space between them, she would have, certainly.

Emma made her way back into the living quarters, staying clear of the office area in case that was where Hook had escaped to, making her way into the bedroom Hook had led her to before. She was tired. So very tired. These kinds of things tended to happen, though, when you hadn’t slept in a week and sustained more than one head injury. The cut on her head throbbed with her heartbeat a few times at the thought, but Emma ignored it. She was getting good at ignoring the small things. She had to stay singularly focused. There was no room for anything else.

She spied the blanket, sheet, and pillow that Hook had left out at the foot of the bed, for her, she presumed, and picked it up, setting it on the ground. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure whose bed this was, exactly, but she was almost positive it was Hook’s and she wasn’t looking to put him out. She just wanted to relax a moment. Setting the pillow against the wall where the headboard would have gone, had there been one, she toed off her boots and spread the sheet down over the top of the already crisply made up mattress. She walked across the room to where a small card table sat, empty of all things except her messenger bag.

She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to bring in her sketchbook from the car, but she had, and now she knew it would bring her the comfort she sought in this moment. She grabbed only one pencil from her bag and flipped open the book to a blank page before settling onto the bed. The moment the pencil touched the paper, she was lost in the motion of the drawing, unsure of what she was even sketching until a flower began to take form over the page. Long, thin, pointed petals began to fill the space in the shape of a star. She shaded a bit and began another. And another when that one was finished.

Suddenly, she was in a field of flowers like the ones she had been drawing. Instead of leaning against the wall, her back was against the rough bark of a large tree, her sketchbook having disappeared entirely. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, goosebumps exploding over her skin despite the warmth of her surroundings, and she knew she wasn’t alone. Emma eased to her feet, finding she wasn’t nearly as sore as before, and turned around, laying eyes on the tall man standing off to her left.

Liam’s mouth was set in a firm line as he watched her get to her feet and approach him and Emma grew wary of the obvious disapproval in his stare.

“Hello, Liam,” she greeted him warmly all the same.

“Emma,” he returned coolly. “Would you care to explain why you were snogging my little brother in the street today?”

Emma blinked rapidly at his blunt words before the anger and embarrassment swirled in her abdomen again.

“You know, between you and Milah, I’m beginning to think I don’t have a moment’s privacy. Do you watch me shower as well? Keep track of my toilet habits?” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. Liam blushed but his expression remained stern.

“I don’t keep track of your anything, unless it has to do with Killian. What were you thinking?” he asked tersely. Emma’s patience was already wearing thin. As she brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, her hands found their place on her jean clad hips.

“I was thinking that your brother is an insufferable ass who needed a dose of his own medicine. It was just a kiss to shut him up. And he kissed me first, by the way.” A thin honey colored brow arched high on her forehead.

Liam made a low humming sound, as if he didn’t entirely believe her. She wasn’t sure she entirely believed herself.

“There is a fine line that you’re flirting with, Emma.” He folded his arms over his broad chest.

“Pun intended?” she snarked.

“I mean it. You’re not here to fraternize with Killian. He is in real trouble, and if you’re only going to complicate things rather than help him, maybe it’s best if you bow out.”

“Not a chance in hell,” she growled, kicking the flowers at her feet. They exploded into a flurry of white petals, looking much like snow swirling between them.

They glared at each other for a long minute before Liam let out a sigh.

“Listen, lass, I know you’re under a lot of pressure. You’re tired, maybe not thinking straight, but I’m telling you now, getting involved with Killian is a mistake. For him and for you. Don’t forget, at the end of all of this, you’ll be going your separate ways. Think of your own heart, if nothing else,” he murmured, taking a step closer to her, and Emma scoffed.

“My heart is just fine. Your brother has become a friend, at best. You know, you and Milah, you guys came to me for help. Not the other way around,” she reminded him. Liam nodded.

“As you’re well aware, I’m sure, options to reach out from beyond are… limited. At best.” Liam’s brow pinched, deep furrows of concern working their way into his forehead. “I need to know that your priorities are straight.”

“That is one thing you never need to worry about. And, sorry to disappoint, but Killian is not my top priority right now. Finishing this case is. Finding these missing girls is. Taking down that bastard Gold is my number one priority. And nothing, not even your brother, and especially not some stupid, fucking kiss, is going to push me off my path,” Emma said, now shaking with the weight of the words pouring from her. Liam’s face was unchanged.

“You say that, Emma, but I see my brother. I watch him every day. And his heart is definitely on the line here. I’d bet my eternal soul that yours is, too,” he said, more gently this time. That statement struck Emma hard, her breath evaporating from her lungs.

His eternal soul.

The only thing he had left. The only thing that truly mattered in anyone’s life. His slate blue eyes stared into her jade green, the intensity of his words washing over the moment. There was no other way to answer him but honestly.

“I won’t let any feelings from Killian or myself get in the way of what I need to do,” she replied quietly and Liam’s shoulders sagged in relief. “And Killian will come around. We will fix this.”

“I truly hope so, lass,” Liam said, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.” Emma smirked at his echoing of his younger brother’s words from earlier. The Jones men were so alike sometimes, and then others, they couldn’t be more different. Emma looked down to pick a white flower from the field, and when she looked up, Liam was gone.

Emma decided that she was going to take advantage of the beautiful dreamscape she found herself in, turning to head back to the tree, but as soon as she made the rotation, the scene was gone as well. She was at her apartment building, at the end of the hallway by the elevator on her floor, but there was a red string in front of her door. Her eyes followed the string down, down, down until she saw the other end laying at her feet.

She bent down, the flower in her grasp fluttering to the ground beside her, replacing it with the red string between her fingers. She began following the string, one hand on it at all times, passing it to the other and back again as she walked towards her apartment. The door was open and she followed the string inside.

She wasn’t prepared for what she saw.

Women, naked women, battered and bruised, and lifeless, their eyes staring blankly into the void of her living room, piled atop one another in a heap, all of them bearing faces that she'd only seen in case files. Emma stood frozen in the doorway, her mouth hanging open in utter horror and the string gripped tightly in her fists. Limbs stuck out in every direction, cuts and bruises marring the flesh. Suddenly, from the middle of the pile, one of the hands began to move, just a slight twitch of the fingers. Emma ran towards the indication of life, desperately moving arms and legs and hair to reach whoever she could still save.

A woman with short, dark hair in front of her face was at the other end of the movement. Emma swept her hair away to look at her pale, blemished features. She recognized her immediately. Ivy Belfrey. The most recent woman to go missing. Her big brown eyes were dimming, her life force fading like all the rest, and Emma grasped her hand tightly.

“Stay with me, Ivy, I'm gonna get you help,” Emma told her and a single fat tear rolled down Ivy's cheek.

“Why didn't you save us?” Ivy asked on a cracked whisper. Emma's throat closed up at her words and her green eyes blew wide. Ivy's expression twisted into something dark and angry and she reared up from her place within the corpses. “WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE US?” she screamed. Before Emma could answer, Ivy had reached down and yanked the string from Emma's hand.

The entire room blew apart in a fiery explosion and Emma screamed…

“EMMA!”

Emma's eyes snapped open and she sat up in the bed she was in, looking around frantically. She was still at the compound. Her eyes cleared from the haze of her dream and found Killian, staring at her in the dark of the room, concern etched into his features. Tentatively, he reached up with his hand and brushed a wild snarl of blonde curls out of her face, his knuckles skimming her cheek soothingly as he withdrew, but Emma instinctively leaned into his calming touch. At her motion, Killian moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side.

Then Emma did something she hadn’t done in years in front of another living soul. She cried. She turned her face into his chest and her tears were immediately soaked up by the cotton of his t-shirt. She wasn’t sure when he slipped further up onto the bed, or when she’d ended up curled up half in his lap, him murmuring soft, calming things in her ear as sobs racked her body, but she did know one thing: she felt the safest she had since this whole ordeal started right there in Killian Jones’ arms.