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starseneyes · 1 year

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Chenford REWIND- Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 4 Ep 8 & 9

I'm LOVING y'all's requests. Please keep 'em coming! The second I saw chenfordfan2386 request these two, I knew it had to be done. I'm a huge Peyton List fan, and I love episodes that dive deeper into our favorite characters.

SPOILER ALERT: If you like to live an un-spoiled life, this is not the post for you. I try to write these as though I'm seeing them for the first time, and will definitely spoil these episodes and include references to episodes previously aired.

Everybody ready and know what to expect? Great! Let's dive in.

Hit and Run

"I'm losing to Smitty?" "Oh, that's embarrassing."

I love how Tim is commenting on this discussion even as he's pretending not to be a part of it. Lucy looks up at him, a smile on her face like, "you're hopeless".

"You know what would really help? An endorsement from someone who is respected within the department."

Tim looks to Nolan, incredulous. But watch how his face shifts when he looks to Lucy. There's a subtle shift as she leans closer to him, trying to get him to give in.

"No. No. Don't drag me into this. No. I have never endorsed a candidate, and I never will."

Small detail, but I love it. Tim reaches for Lucy's camera first. He hands it to her before getting his own.

"Genny!" "Sergeant Bradford."

As soon as Genny approaches and hugs Tim, Lucy gets out of the way. She has no idea who this woman is, but Genny is making Tim smile and getting physical affection without hesitation. She has to be important to him, right?

"So, what are you doing here?" "I just wanted to see my big brother."

Look at the shift in Lucy Chen with this information! This isn't Tim's new gorgeous girlfriend he's never mentioned. It's his little sister!

"Oh! Hi! I'm Lucy Chen. I know that we just met but if you have any embarrassing stories from his childhood that would be..."

Tim gives a nice glare at Lucy and she shuts up... for now. C'mon, you know Lucy is gonna get that dirt!

"Because I know why you're here, and I've made my position very clear."

Take note, here, that Tim is speaking cryptically. Because, this is a tie back to the worst part of his life, the most broken parts of himself, and the source of so much of his trauma.

Lucy doesn't know how bad it was. Yes, after DOD he opened up enough to tell Lucy that his father "tuned [him] up on the regular"... but that didn't paint the whole picture.

And having his little sister here is going to re-open all those wounds that nobody, save maybe Isabelle, has ever seen.

This tops everything that ever went wrong with her. This is the foundational heartache that defined so much of Tim and how he lives his life. This is the place his nightmares were born and his need for stability and to protect his heart.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Why don't I do one of those ride along thingees? That way, we could have the whole day to catch up." "Yeah, see, you gotta get permission to do a ride along. It's a long process. A ton of paperwork." "Hey, you're a Sergeant, now, you can just approve it yourself."

Lucy knew what she was doing. Does she know exactly what will be discussed? No. But she can see that Tim's avoiding something he needs to face, and the psychology girl in her can't ignore it.

"Did Tim have any nicknames when he was a kid?"

I love Genny's look to Tim on this one. Like, "Is this person for real?"

"Oh, yeah, he tried to highlight his hair right before Prom. He ended up looking like Slim Shady."

I. Love. Lucy's. Positioning. She is literally turned completely toward him, this goofy grin on her face, drinking every second in.

There's a freedom in how she's talking with Genny, how she's watching Tim, and I think about later in the episode when she finds out he's not single... and how I'm glad she didn't know before this scene.

Because look at how happy she is. She's loving every little morsel, learning more about Tim. Yes, she's out for the embarrassing stuff, right now. But, don't you love even the silly facts you learn about the person you love?

"Oh, you know what, I think I have a picture of it." "Oh my god, yes!" "Genny." "What? You'd rather I keep this photo private? That's fine. Let's talk about Dad." "I have nothing to say."

He tries to catch eyes with his sister in the rearview mirror. He's still talking in short-code, not wanting to go further. While Genny knows all the details, of course, he isn't ready to be that vulnerable with Lucy, especially now that he's seeing someone.

Go with me... have you ever had a friend who kinda served as a placeholder for something romantic? I had a gay friend like that back in high school. We were super close and people thought we were dating, but neither of us had any interest in each other. We just did all the couply things together because neither of us had a person.

Lucy once realized she was doing it with Jackson, and I think after the events of 4x01, Tim realizes he was starting to do it with Lucy. Let's be real, he's been doing those things forever with Lucy. But, I think he started to notice and it scared the shit out of him.

His ex-wife was a Rookie with him. They were both officers. She was UC. And there are too many similarities there even if Lucy is a completely different person from Isabelle.

I firmly believe part of why Tim is seeing someone nobody knows about is because he wants to date someone separate from the station to convince himself that he can.

He needs to convince himself that there's nothing between him and Lucy, because he is in no way ready to face it.

So, of course he doesn't want to let Lucy into his heart and personal life further. He wants to keep her where he is since some part of him knows he can never push her back to where she was before the veils started to fall.

"Okay. What's your cell phone number? I'll text it to you." "Genny-"

Lucy is all smiles. Because she still doesn't get it. Lucy might've forgotten Tim's one sentence about his father post-DOD (for goodness sake, that scene had a lot going on). She was in a fragile mental state, and after Tim returned her ring, I wouldn't blame her if she forgot 90% of what he said.

"You are impossible." "I'm impossible? Lucy, who's more difficult? Me or Tim?" "Of course she's gonna pick me."

I cackled so hard the first time I heard this line that I had to rewind for the rest of the scene. How Melissa O'Neil kept a straight face is beyond me, but it makes it all the funnier.

"Because you are the most stubborn person alive. Which, by the way, is why you're still single." "First of all, I'm not. And second-" "Wait. What? You're seeing someone?" "This is insane. There's an armed and dangerous suspect at large. We gotta focus."

How long has he been riding with Lucy and said nothing about this chick? Now, we all know Tim likes to pretend that there's no personal business in that Shop, but this episode proves that particular rules is constantly in flux.

Lucy was doing a good job at staying out of the sibling fight and concentrating on her work... until she heard Tim wasn't single. He redirects and she holds up her hand. The wife equivalent of, "Alright, we've had this fight before, no point having it, again. I got it."

But Tim slides a look back at Lucy. He didn't meant to say anything about his new girlfriend in front of Lucy, but he's so comfortable with her, he forgot himself.

That's what it really boils down to. If it had been almost anyone else in the Shop, he wouldn't have been that transparent.

But he's comfortable enough around Lucy to say things without thought. And the last thing he wants to do right now is let her in more.

"What is your favorite show? Mine is House Hunters International." "Oh my god, the best."

Can we just take a moment to appreciate these future sisters-in-law bonding? Lucy and Genny definitely understand one another, and I have a feeling their kids are gonna grow up together with sleepovers, movie nights, and fun DIY projects. What? A gal can dream, right?

"Maybe I should just let it go, but that house was my childhood home. I don't wanna tear it down. I want another family to live there and make happy memories." "Of course! I moved out ten years ago, and when I think of home, I still think of my parents house."

Lucy is being conversational and compassionate. But she doesn't understand. Tim can't take anymore, and he pulls over.

Watch. Tim's. Hand. Eric Winter is an actor who acts all the way through his fingers and his toes. And you can really see it here with how his hand is suddenly unsteady on the wheel.

Because "home" is a hard word for someone who grew up in an unstable one. Genny was more shielded from it, even though she grew up around it. When you're the target of the anger and frustration... it's just different.

You think of the "house" and know it was never a "home". Not for you. Not for Tim. Tim grew up in a house. "Home" denotes a certain level of safety that was never afforded him.

No, he can't take another minute of this. He can't pretend that he's not mentally back there—just a helpless kid who did nothing to deserve what happened.

"What's wrong?" "Tim? Look, I know you don't feel the same way I do, but our childhood wasn't all bad."

Gosh. It's like talking to my little brother. I'm Tim and he's Genny, and the younger one was somehow so shielded despite growing up in the same house. There are legit tears in my eyes, because it's so darn hard. If not for my journals I kept religiously, I might question my own memory when talking to him.

"Stop. Alright? Are you really getting nostalgic over that place? What do you want? Some other family to just cuddle up under the broken plaster where dad slammed my head against the wall?"

We finally see Lucy, again. She's been cut out of this since they pulled over. But, we get to see her react. Because now she gets it.

There's so much for her to unpack, here about how this informs who Tim is, why he makes the choices he does, and how he's gotten so broken over the years. He didn't have a great foundation.

"Dad had a lot of demons." "Dad was a monster." "He's changed. You haven't seen him in 20 years." "The only thing that's changed is that the drinking caught up with him. He can't throw a punch, but he's the same guy underneath." "He's not, and you'd know that if you'd visit the hospice." "Not in a million years."

Tim hasn't glanced at Lucy once during this. It's not about her. But, in an indirect way, this shows, again, how close they are.

He's not censoring himself in front of Lucy. He's speaking freely about something very personal. Later he might re-think it, but in the moment he's comfortable enough for this scene to happen.

"Hospice?" "I had to move him out of Assisted Living last month. Dad's dying."

Hospice care in America is usually the end of the line. No chance of recovery. Make you comfortable until you pass.

And there's nothing anyone else can say at that moment. Tim's barely keeping it together, and it's been a long time since we've seen him this broken in the Shop.

But it really can work that way. One word. One memory. One reference that throws you back into the worst of it all. And suddenly, all the emotions you felt then but weren't allowed to show flood you to the point that you're barely containing yourself, and it was all so long ago you'd think the wounds had healed.

Tim needs to get his head back in the game. So, he wordlessly pulls back into traffic.

"When you were 7 years old he dropped you in Griffith Park with a compass and made you find your way home." "Which I did." "Tim Test."

How fast he looked at her. Lucy catches his glance and realizes how it hit. She didn't mean it to, but it hurt. Because that comparison to the person you want least to be like is agony... even if the words weren't intended to burn. They sear into your flesh and you start to re-examine yourself to see if there's a trace of them there.

You share the same DNA, but that doesn't mean you're the same. Your choices define you, and you have to believe that you can break cycles or else you'll break apart.

Lucy just equated Tim to his father. She didn't mean anything by it, but the barely breathed, passing thought is imprinted in Tim's memory, now.

"Uh, Tim, listen... your sister needs you." "Lucy-" "I realize that I'm overstepping here, but just hear me out. It's clear that you got the worst of it with your father, but she lived through it with you. Instead of arguing about how bad your dad was or wasn't, maybe as children of... of abuse, you would be better off supporting each other."

The way he looks away on "abuse" reminds me of how he reacted when she said he had a learning disability. These are not things Tim likes to think about or face. But Lucy has never seen them as a branding on his life, merely parts of who he is.

She doesn't label him to ostracize him or set him apart. She tries to help him understand how these things exist within him, but don't define him.

And, oh, my little brother was such a pill growing up. Such a pill. But he was also the first person to ever say I didn't deserve the verbal and emotional abuse I received. He was only 13, but it meant the bloody world. I was 17, and I truly believed I got what I deserved. I wish I'd never lived through it, but I'm infinitely thankful for my brother so I didn't have to go through it alone.

"Ready to go?" "Yeah."

Lucy wordlessly gets out of the way of the siblings, but Tim can't take his eyes off of her, and Genny noticed.

Come on. She's his little sister. Much as he said he wasn't single and has somebody, she has already clocked that there's something between these two.

"Look, I'm really sorry about today. I should have listened more." "I agree. But thanks for saying it. It means a lot." "I'm still not going to see him."

Tim put up a boundary, and that's healthy. It's so hard to set boundaries, sometimes, and I really do applaud Tim that he set his. He owes his father nothing. And much as Genny doesn't agree with it, she needs to learn to respect it.

Sure, Tim could benefit from some therapy and really processing through his trauma. Genny's not wrong in that. But Tim's not going to go unless Tim is willing to go, and berating him is no way to get through to him.

"If you're free this weekend, maybe we could go by the place, see what needs to be done, and you can give us an estimate." "Did you just say 'we'? As in you're gonna help?" "I checked out some comps in the neighborhood. We could get a million for that place easy. Plus, it shouldn't all fall on you."

I think it's marvelous that before Lucy told him to be there for his sister, he was already looking at comps. He was already thinking about it.

Lucy, in this case, echoed the best parts of Tim. Sometimes she helps him find those better parts. But, he's learning, again, how to listen to them on his own.

That's so much progress for his character. And it's so beautiful to watch him blossom.

"Could I have everyone's attention, please? I would like to formally give my endorsement for Union Rep to a man who has the backs of every officer in this station, John Nolan."

Did. You. See. Lucy!? As Nolan moves through the crowd hand-shaking, Lucy cocks her head at Tim. Tim cocks his head back.

Because she's proud of him. He just did something he's never done, that he said he'd never do, because he knew it was the right thing. Smitty would run the whole thing into the ground.

Tim took action to help the entire station, and he's opening himself up just a little more to the people around him.

And Lucy is such a huge part of that. She always will be. But... that's a story for another Meta.

Breakdown

AKA "The One Where I Cry The Whole Time"

"Well, Nolan says an open-concept sells better-."

Excuse me... I gotta cut you off right there because... Lucy Chen is in your childhood house? Lucy Chen is helping you with Demo? Lucy Chen is here instead of the person you're dating?

Tim... and I say this with all love... what the hell? You invited your coworker to come help you with this and thought we'd, what, not notice!? Your sister must be standing there thinking, "My big brother is in denial!"

"Do you remember how Mom used to make us pose by the window for every formal dance?" "Oh my gosh, my Mom did that, too. And I always had to have a wrist corsage." "Yes! Why was that ever a thing?"

Tim. Are you seeing this, Tim? This is sister-in-law energy. Clearly, you need to throw that lifeguard chick back to the ocean because the woman you're going to marry is right here... And you're the one who invited her.

"No. No more reminiscing. This is about fixing up the house and selling it." "Wait. Wait. Wait. Hold on. I mean, you guys are ending a huge chapter in your lives. You guys need closure." *Tim turns on the tool* "What?" "I said you need closure." "What?" "You're an idiot."

Huge. Married. Energy. Like, my husband and I do stupid stuff like this. And Genny is right there.

Also, let's talk about how far Tim and Lucy have come. Yes, Lucy has always stood up to Tim when he needed it. But this is downright flirty. Like, this is Girlfriend talk, not Sergeant's Aide talk.

"You guys are so lucky. I begged my Mom and Dad to have a sibling. They got me a turtle. Uh, it was cute, but a little smelly." "Cute and smelly pretty much sums up Tim's teenage years. You didn't miss much." "Wow. And to think I was actually excited when they brought you home from the hospital."

I love how freely Tim speaks to his sister in front of Lucy. Think about Season 1 Tim. He would never. But the fortified walls that once separated them have all come down. Thin veils are all that remains.

"What is it?" "There's something in the wall." "Oh, is it my Malibu Barbie? It's worth a lot, now." "No, it's metal... What the hell is a gun doing in our wall?"

This isn't Chenford, but it's so important to the story, and it makes me think of the previous episode when Tim talked about his Dad breaking the plaster with Tim's head... Looks like good ole Dad did a lot of repairs, so as kids, Genny and Tim wouldn't have even thought it strange. It was part of the cycle of abuse.

"We need to run ballistics." *aggressive head nodding from Tim* "Wait, you don't actually think it was used in a crime?" "It's our job to find out."

Tim looks to Lucy on this one. It's not hard for him to imagine his father the villain. He is too distracted by this weapon to think of anything else. Because thinking of Dad brings back up all those things he's tried to shove down and not face.

"Look, we'll be back as soon as we can." "But it's your day off. You said you'd help." "It won't take long. Come on, Chen."

Tim's in work-mode. But let's not pretend he's completely objective. Some part of him needs to know where this gun came from... to know if the Monster who raised him is even more of a Monster. Could there finally be some punishment for all the horrible things he's done?

But Genny's frustrated. She doesn't understand this part of Tim, and she's frustrated because for the last 20 years, Dad has been her responsibility.

She's been the one dealing with his medical care, with moving him from facility to facility, with visiting him and trying to be a caring daughter, all while not even living in LA.

They're not communicating. And they can't see this from the same viewpoint because though they grew up in the same house, they have different childhoods.

You might think, "that's impossible", but it's true. Some parents play favorites. Some parents dole out all the abuse on one child. Some parents are negligent toward one child and not the other.

It's very possible to grow up in seemingly the same environment and have completely different experiences. That's Tim and Genny. But she's tired of carrying the burden, and he's blind to his emotions clouding his vision.

"I knew you'd find some excuse to leave." "Genny. This is serious." "It's fine. Go."

Tim takes the out, but Lucy can feel the tension, and she's trying to mediate between her husband and sister-in-law.

"She's got a point. You could have called someone to handle this. You still can." "A good Sergeant doesn't create work for his officers. Even on his day off." "And it's not at all about the emotions this house is stirring up?" "It's just a house."

Because even Tim Bradford "Supercop" has blind spots. We see it in 5x12 (and, yes, that's all I'm saying on it) and we see it here. There are times when Tim can't be objective—and I'm so thankful Lucy Chen is there to keep him in check today.

"Ballistics came back on the gun we found in the wall." "That was fast." "Yeah, I mean, I had to buy a case of Girl Scout cookies from Derek's kid. You're welcome."

Married. We've seen Tim pull strings for Lucy, before, getting calls sent to him to help her with her checklist, and whatnot. Now, we see Lucy spending her own money to help rush ballistics on the weapon.

There's no guarantee that rushing ballistics would have gotten them back to Genny sooner. No, this is about getting Tim the answers he needs as fast as possible.

"Monica is not a solid alibi. They were having an affair. My mom didn't know, but I did."

Tim was 14. Just a kid. But he was protecting his mom. We had a babysitter, once, who left us outside a bar while they went in and got drinks. We had another who had a physical altercation with her husband in front of us and yanked us out of bed, riding through the night until we found a safe place to crash.

I distracted my little brother so he didn't realize what was going on. I didn't tell my Mom. I knew she had such a hard time finding babysitters with her hours, and we didn't want to add to her burdens.

It sucks being a kid who has to think like an adult. And that was Tim.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're going to question your father's mistress? ... You can't be the one to question her. We need to do this right."

Tim's objectivity is skewed, here, and Lucy can see it. Also, can we talk about how many times Lucy uses "we" in this episode? The gun "we" found. "We" need to do this right. She's using an awful lot of inclusive language, which is better for getting through to Tim, but also really telling. Even on their day off, they're a unit.

"You do it."

Tim points to her in a "you're right" movement, then hands over the case file. And can we just talk about the trust that these two have built up over the years?

Tim was her TO and he came down hard on every little mistake she made. Now, he has full trust in her abilities, including handling the most personal case that's ever come their way.

Tim Watches. Lucy Looks Back.

She knows he's behind her, watching everything. He's separated from it by the glass, but still there. And when his father's mistress rises to leave, Lucy casts a glance back at him.

Lucy's smart enough to know he's headed for the hallway, and she know his objectivity is nonexistent.

"Tim?"

It's likely been 20 years since she saw him. He was just a kid the last time they saw one another. And since he's in plainclothes, she has no idea if he's here because of his family or because he's a cop.

And I think it's so heartbreaking and tragic that Tim would face one of the hardest cases of his career personally without wearing the security of his uniform. We know he always has his badge on him, but this is different.

For so long, Tim has used his identity as a cop as his center. He doesn't have that protection today. He's a man... once a boy... hurting.

"She's covering for him." "Maybe, but we can't prove it."

There's that inclusive language, again. Lucy is letting Tim know that she's on his side, that he isn't alone, that they're together on this. For so long, Tim has operated as a lone wolf. He blocks out help, even from those who care about him.

But Lucy's here to let him know that he isn't alone. And she can only hope her message is getting through.

"Oh, man. Never thought I'd see your face, again."

No "My boy". No "I missed you". In his opening greeting, we get a stark look at what kind of man this is. We've had Tim and Genny's perspectives, sure. But, now we get to see the man for ourselves.

"Wow. Liver really did a number on you, old man."

Tim's distancing himself. He's protecting himself by trying not to think of this man as his father. Sure, lots of people say, "My old man" but it's not the same as "Dad" or "Daddy" or even "Papa".

When I first met my father, I called him by his first name. It took a while before I was ready to call him "Daddy". There's something sacred about that name... something Tim never had in a father.

"You always seem to have someone looking after you, even when you don't deserve it."

Oh, Tim. Because if you look back at Tim's life, he never seems to think that he deserves it. His friends try to be there for him, and he shirks from it. He pulls back. He shifts away.

"Because I saw you two together when I was 13." "Oh, crap." "For some reason that I still don't understand, I lied to Mom. I lied for you."

Because... he's still your father. And I totally get this. I totally understand that part of you that loves the person who's abusing you. That part of you that wants what you don't have and you half-wish that you can make them the parent you need.

You'll do anything for them because you think maybe if you do enough, they'll actually love you. They'll actually want you. They'll stop hurting you. You can have that relationship you always wanted. It's that hope that hurts so horribly because it's never enough.

Tim has tears in his eyes. He's facing the monster to try to get to the truth, because some part of him needs the answer. And if his hunch is right, he can finally see his father face judgment for something.

"Poor little Tim-Tim. What are you bitching about? You kept your mouth shut. You did good. Now, get over it."

"Good"? GOOD!?! You fucking psychopath of a human being. No wonder Tim ran as far as he could.

But, oh, I get this, too. Watching them do something you know is wrong and them expecting you to cover for them. They expect it. And anything less is betrayal.

"And so what if I did?"

Tim's father takes out his oxygen and stands. Watch how Tim braces himself when he does. He's ready for the punch.

"Get back in bed." "Make me."

He's asking for a fight—to prove that his son is no different than he is. Inviting him to take the first swing, to prove that he's a "man" in his father's eyes. But Tim looks away.

Little Tim would never have punched back. And adult Tim wants to be nothing like the man before him.

His father misses the complexity of that moment. He sees only a victory.

"Yeah. That's what I thought."

This line hit me really hard, but not for the reasons you might think.

See, as much as we fight to distance ourselves from those people... they still raised us. We still have them in us. It's a choice every day to be a different person and write a better life.

And the phrasing here sounds like Tim. Tim has a tendency to use "Yeah" as a singular statement and follow it up with another. His father is a part of him.

But that doesn't define Tim. Because every day, Tim has made the decision to be a better man in spite of the one who raised him.

"I brought Monica Ochoa back in." "Why? Because I knew there was more to her story. You couldn't see past the version that you wanted to see." "What'd she say?"

Lucy has always had Tim's back. But I also love that all it took for Tim to listen to Lucy was for her to tell him he was wrong.

There have been times she has called him out (so many times) that he didn't want to hear it. But he and Lucy have come so far.

"You brought me a present." "Think of it more as a push."

Oooooh, the shade. There's a show called Resident Alien, and when the main guy met the main girl's awful mother, he left her with "Smoke more" as a farewell. Same vibe, here.

Tim is letting his father know that, no, he won't end him. But he's not afraid to escort him to the end.

"Monica confessed." "Leave her out of this." "Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close and you needed to frame someone else."

He's sticking to the facts, this time, instead of conjecture. He's looming over his father, this time, standing closer so he has to look down at him instead of across the room. It's different, this time.

"He was a brutal, abusive bastard. She deserves a medal for what she did." "He was an abusive bastard?" "What? You think I'm like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You're a man, now, because of me."

Toughen up, Rachel. Stop crying, Rachel. You're too soft, Rachel. You need a thicker skin, Rachel.

And somehow they can see it in someone else, but are blind to it in themselves. Because they have a justification for what they've done.

"I'm who I am in spite of you."

Yes. Tim. Bradford. Yes, you are. You looked at the Monster who tried to mold you to follow in his footsteps and said, "screw that". You chose to be your own man. You chose to end this horrible cycle of abuse. And now you get to say it to his face.

And the way his father has no response? It's perfect. Because you know some tiny morsel of what he said got through. Tim knows it, too. Look how he straightens a little... How now that he's said it aloud, he believes it himself.

"Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts."

It's the first time he's addressed his father by that name in the whole episode, and it's because he finally feels strong enough to say goodbye.

He'll never see that man, again, but this time he's said his piece and proved to himself that he the man he wants to be... not the Monster who raised him.

Tim walks out and closes the door. This is huge. Because last time he came here, he closed himself in with the Monster and he came alone. This time, he walked in and left the door open because he knew he had backup.

Tim knew Lucy was outside the door the entire time. She's had his back the entire episode, and this time when he came to face the man, he brought her with him. Some part of him knew he needed the support.

And this. is. huge. Tim Bradford takes care of his own problems. Tim Bradford doesn't ask for help. Right? No... Tim Bradford has isolated himself out of fear and trauma over and over and over, again. But today, he chose to let someone in—Lucy.

She heard all of that.

"You okay?" "No. He was protecting her. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress? Broke half a dozen laws for her." "They picked her up. She's being processed right now. I don't think the DA is gonna prosecute your dad on his deathbed." "It doesn't matter. He'll get judged soon enough."

This whole episode, a part of Tim was hoping to see his father's judgment, to see him punished for the Monster that he was. This line right here shows he's accepted that it's out of his hands. And that's the way it has to be. He's releasing it.

Tim's looking away from Lucy... looking at memories she can't see.

When he does look to her, it's purposeful. He needs to say something.

"The Tim Tests? Those don't make me like him."

The way Tim's voice breaks here kills me. Because he's saying it aloud hoping he'll believe it, that he truly is nothing like that man. And hoping that she'll affirm it... because he'll believe her more than he'll believe himself.

Ever since Lucy mentioned the Tim Tests in the Shop, he's been thinking about it. He's been terrified that he mis-stepped and misjudged and maybe he messed up somewhere along the line. He's tried so hard not to be that man. But Lucy's words caused him doubt.

Because he cares how she sees him. No, they're not in a romantic relationship, here. He's dating someone else, so that's off the table. But, even now, mid Season 4, this is one of the most important relationships of his life. It matters how Lucy sees him.

He can dismiss the thoughts and opinions of so many others. But Lucy's is one of the few that counts. And he can't bear the thought of her thinking him a Monster.

"I know."

The first in a long line of "I know"s from these two. But watch how Tim's jaw clenches after she says it. He wants to believe it so bad, but some part of him isn't sure.

"You're nothing like him.."

Watch how he shakes his head along with her. He wants so badly to believe her, to know that she's telling the truth and not just what he wants to hear. Tim braces, pulling away. He leans away from her.

"Come here."

She echoes his words from 4x01 and puts her arms around him. he goes easily. No hesitation. He leans down to her, pressing his face against hers.

In this moment, he doesn't have to stand strong. The last time they hugged, he was the supportive one, tall and strong for her. This time, he's the one who needs to melt, and Lucy gives him the safe space to do it.

Just outside his father's room. A door separating him from the Monster. But in Lucy Chen's arms, Tim is safe.

"You're nothing like him."

And maybe, maybe, some part of him actually believes it since it's coming from her. The hug lingers. It's pure comfort. And it's exactly what she needs.

FAST FORWARD: Fans of 5x12 (like myself) might have been wondering where Tim got the snap shirt... this is a snap shirt. In fact, it might be the snap shirt. Someone with sharper eyes with mine might want to take a look. But it totally looks like the same shirt to me! (EDIT: It has been confirmed to NOT be the shirt, but at least we know Tim has snap shirts in his wardrobe prior to 5x12).

Moving on...

"Here. Let me help." "I got it. I'm good at cleaning things up on my own." "I know you are. I'm sorry I haven't been here to help more. I'm sorry I haven't been a better big brother."

You must be sitting here thinking, "Uh, Rachel. The last Chenford scene happened... why are you still writing?" Well, Chenford is nothing without Lucy AND Tim.

And who they are doesn't stop when they're apart. To truly appreciate this ship, I feel I need to look at both pieces in total as independent, beautiful characters. The Ship is nothing without them.

Tim has been so wrapped up in his own hurt that he's missed the burdens Genny has carried alone, as a result. But Tim needed the breakthrough that this episode afforded him.

"You're not that bad. When you're around." "Well, all that changes now. I'm coming to visit you every holiday. I'm gonna be calling you at least twice a week. And I will handle fixing up this place and selling it."

This is healing. No, it doesn't remove the scars or their phantom sting. But Tim Bradford spent so much time running away from his past that he missed the fact that he was also running from Genny. His little sister. Who really needed him.

"You should go home. Be with your family." "You're my family, too."

He needed to hear that. He is so worried that he screwed this up too much, that she would be too angry to love her big brother, still. And in four words, she soothed that fear away. You're still my brother.

"How about this? We fix and sell this place together, and then we'll both be done with it. All of it." "Deal."

Letting this go together is exactly what they both needed. Genny passes the broom to him, letting him share in the burden. And Tim gets right to work.

"Whatever happened with that gun?"

Tim doesn't even know where to start... so he keeps sweeping.

The growth that Tim is afforded by this pair of episodes is so needed. When we first meet Tim in the Pilot, he's a broken mess of a human functioning because he can lose himself in his work. He doesn't have to be a man when he's a cop.

Season 4 Tim has come around a lot, but he needed this healing to help him on his journey. He needed to finally be free of his father, not because he ran away, but because he faced him and released him and his hold.

Tim's healing has to come before he can be in a healthy relationship with Lucy Chen.

Look, I know what it's like going into a relationship when you're still dealing with un-healed trauma. Matthew and I had it on both sides. Yes, we fought through together. But, narratively, wouldn't it have been nice if the Universe had let us heal, first, so we'd be better for each other from the get-go?

The Writers afforded Tim and Lucy that opportunity. Does that mean Tim's trauma will never come up again? No. Does that mean Lucy's problems with her parents are a long-gone memory? No.

But whenever these two find one another, they will be healed enough not to destroy the relationship with their pain. When their traumas inevitably pop up, they can face them together from a point of some healing rather than completely raw agony.

Raw was Tim Bradford when we first met him. He has come so far. And he's a better man for it. Not just for Lucy, but for himself. He deserves healing and to find true hope.

Not the false hope that an abusive person will magically change their ways and be the parent he needed... but hope in the form of friendship, family, and a future. A truly beautiful future.

As ever, thanks for reading. Y'all are amazing, and I truly appreciate every Like, Re-Blog, and Comment. Can't wait to see ya on the next!

#Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy #The Rookie #Meta

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deadboyswalking · 10 months

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Hero/Villain shigadabi where Tomura has been pro hero Touya's nemesis (read: mild nuisance) since Touya first graduated U.A. Little snippet below the cut? I'm still playing with the idea

The first time they encountered each other, fresh rookie hero Touya was "patrolling" (read: just chilling) at a local mall when he saw a skinny boy only a couple of years younger than himself running out of the game store, a bulky box clearly shoved under his black hoodie. The little fucker was fast and seemed to suddenly vanish as Touya pursued him, but not before he saw the boy's huge, wild ruby eyes and Touya's heart skipped a beat.

The game store's locked console case was crumbled into dust.

It was a year before Touya was called to investigate a series of mysterious break-ins and robberies at government buildings. It seemed as if the criminals had just appeared in the buildings and disappeared without a trace, save for, again, piles of dust where the security systems should have been. Touya was waiting in the headquarters of the HPSC when that strange boy popped out of a dark portal the way he'd suddenly disappeared at the mall. He'd grown in the past year, nearly as tall as Touya himself now, though a medical mask still covered his lower face. Touya would've recognized those eyes anywhere, though, and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"What the fuck?" the boy spat, his voice low and raspy. Touya crossed his arms, trying his best to give the intimidating aura of his father. With his short and slim stature, the effect was negligible at best.

"You're not very smart, are you?" Touya asked lazily, "You've hit every other building with information about the hero schools, so I figured you'd show up here eventually for the grand prize. Why? You thinking of applying next year, little kouhai?"

"I'm almost 17, jackass," the boy hissed. Strangely enough, he didn't bolt, seemingly as interested in where this was going as Touya himself was.

Touya hummed.

"See, I've been wondering about you for the last year. That dust Quirk of yours isn't registered, but as soon as I saw what you did to the security cameras, I knew it had to be you. Pretty big leap from stealing video games to stealing classified government documents, huh?"

"Pretty big leap from burning down a city block and nearly killing yourself in every fight to doing your little investigations, huh?"

Touya exhaled slowly and willed himself not to ignite. Okay, so the smirking bastard knew who he was. Big deal, most people knew about Endeavor's self-destructive, publically dangerous failure of a son, only allowed to keep his hero license because of nepotism and his own surprising talent for underground detective work.

"Who are you and who do you work for?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Touya snorted.

"Charming. Tell me the truth and I'll make sure the blame falls on whoever's giving you orders."

"Nobody–"

"You're just a kid. I know there's someone in charge of you, so just tell me who it is and I'll help you get away, okay?" Touya asked, trying his soothing-baby-animal voice, "You don't have to keep doing this. You can start again before they make you do something you can't come back from."

The boy cackled, an utterly joyless sound that seemed ripped from his chest like a hacking cough.

"Oh, you have no idea," the boy replied, the rasp even more pronounced, "But it's cute that you think stealing a Playstation and a flashdrive full of documents is the worst thing I've ever done. See you around, Touya."

"It's Dabi to you!" the hero shouted, darting forward with his hand outstretched as the boy melted into a dark portal, which popped out of existence before Touya could follow him.

#shigadabi

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msmischief101 · 2 years

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♝Pairing: Stisaac ♝Characters: Isaac Lahey, Stiles Stilinski ♝Tags: blow jobs, hand jobs, daggers, pining, oblivious!Stiles, hunter!Stiles, canon divergence ♝Words: 3983 ♝ Kinktober 2022 - Knife Play

ao3

---

trust fall

---

"How disappointing."

Stiles has no idea who this alpha is or where he has come from. All he knows is that he doesn't want him and his potential pack to stay in Beacon Hills any longer than he already has and that he’s probably not easy to deal with judging by the tense line of Peter's shoulders.

"Really, Peter? That's what the mighty Hale pack came to be?" The alpha, Keith if Stiles remembers correctly, sneers. "You, your bastard son—" Jackson tenses next to Peter, fingers curling into tight fists, his knuckles turn white "— your nephew's beta, and…" Keith stops, eyes catching on Stiles as if he's seen them for the first time tonight. "And what are you, doll?"

Doll?

Stiles goes rigid, anger pulsing through his veins. "What did you just call me?"

"Ah." Peter tuts at the comment or Stiles' reaction. It's hard to tell with him. But as Isaac shifts a little closer, Peter pats Keith's shoulder as if they're old friends. "He's best not to trifle with."

Stiles cuts his gaze to the former alpha. They're not here to save Peter's ass. Stiles has agreed to come tonight because he owes him a favor for having helped with the nogitsune. Jackson most likely joined him because he learned that Peter is his father two months ago, and he doesn't want to lose him again so soon. Isaac tagged along because, well, Stiles isn't exactly sure why he did, but he's not going to complain.

Keith brushes Peter's hand off like an annoying beetle and uses his impressive height of 6 foot 8 to look down on Stiles. Considering his status and size, Keith is probably used to people backing down. But Stiles has always been dangerously stubborn. After surviving a nogitsune, he won’t be scared by an alpha with a superiority complex. So, he merely stares back, hands in the pockets of his hoody, firmly clasping the Chinese ring daggers he got from Chris.

“I told you—”

“Peter,” Keith cuts him off, for the first time sounding impatient, “when I told you I’d visit, I expected you’d have something to offer to an old friend.” Whatever their relationship might be, ‘friends’ is the last word Stiles would have used for them.

“He’s not here to be dealt away.” Isaac puts a hand on the small of his back. It’s a subtle but possessive gesture.

And noticeable enough for Keith to raise a brow. “You don’t have to settle for a pack of omegas, doll.”

“Stiles,” Isaac warns.

But Stiles really has never been all that good at listening. “Did nobody tell you,” he wonders, pushing the sheath off the dagger in one swift movement, “that dolls kill?” Without any hesitation, and accompanied by the sound of exasperation from Peter, Stiles slams the dagger to the hilt into Keith’s side. The yellow wolfsbane takes effect almost immediately, and the mighty alpha falls to his knees in front of Stiles. “If you survive this, I want you to go back where you came from.” Smiling, Stiles shakes off a bit of blood and wolfsbane and then places the tip of the dagger right underneath the alpha’s jaw. “There is nothing here for you.”

“Fox,” Keith spits.

“You make it sound like an insult.” Stiles pats his cheek ever so gently before merely pushing the werewolf over. It will never not be satisfying to see people with huge egos fall. Most of the time, they deserve it. Twirling the dagger around his index finger, Stiles turns to Peter. “You need new friends, you know that?”

“Tell me about it.” Peter sighs dramatically.

Jackson rolls his eyes. “Can we go now? I’m supposed to pick up Danny in an hour.”

Stiles hums in agreement and turns around, catching Isaac staring at him in the process. At his hand holding the dagger specifically. “Something wrong?”

Blinking rapidly, Isaac shakes his head. “Starvin’.”

“Oh, I could eat something as well.” Stiles sheaths the dagger again and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Let’s go.”

— — —

At first, Stiles wasn’t sure if what he heard were footsteps. This Airbnb and its noises are still very unfamiliar to him. When Peter called him a couple of nights ago, this was the only available accommodation in Beacon Hills he could stay for longer than two days. After all, if he’s back in town anyway, he might as well spend some time with his dad. But when he stepped out of the shower and onto the soft bath mat, the sound could not have come from him.

He towels himself down haphazardly — he doesn’t want to be mauled while naked — and slips into his jeans and hoodie. Good thing he’s been carrying the daggers around with him since losing it on the alpha last night. That’s what he gets for calling him ‘doll’. Stiles huffs, slipping his fingers through the ring, and grabs the dagger. He probably should stock up on yellow wolfsbane, just in case.

The patio door is open, and Stiles isn’t entirely sure if that was his doing or not. He opened it before he decided to shower, but he could have sworn that he’s closed it again. He wouldn’t be that stupid. Would he? Maybe not stupid but certainly forgetful enough.

Stiles stops just outside of view, watching the shadow shift and move with the person standing outside the door. It looked strangely familiar. Especially what seems to be curly— Stiles rolls his eyes and steps forward. He reaches around the door, curling his fingers into a soft sweater. Without further ado, he yanks Isaac inside.

Yelping, the werewolf stumbles. He manages to twist onto his back before he hits the floor.

Out of principle, Stiles straddles him and presses the dagger to his throat. “And you’re dead.”

Isaac chuckles, but it sounds slightly nervous. To be fair, he’s been looking at him a little differently ever since Stiles attacked that alpha with a dagger. It’s not unreasonable. Stiles acted a little rash. He probably should’ve ignored the condescending behavior, that would have been a smarter decision, but he’s never claimed to make rational decisions. He’s a great planner, but in the heat of the moment, he slams a wooden baseball bat over a giant werewolf’s head.

“Sorry,” Isaac mutters, squirming a little underneath him.

Stiles lets out a breath, trying to make it sound like a chuckle. He’s pretty sure that failed. There’s a frustratingly huge part of him who wants to have Isaac squirming underneath him for an entirely different reason — a part he should have locked away a couple of years ago. “What are you doing here?” He quirks a brow.

Clearing his throat, Isaac pulls his shoulders up in an awkward shrug. “Checking in on you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” Stiles means it even though he’s hiding that behind a mocking tone. Knowing Isaac is worried enough to keep an eye on him makes him feel weirdly protected despite knowing that Stiles isn’t exactly in need of protection. He is capable of defending himself — then again, there’s nothing he would be able to do against a pack of werewolves. He might not even be able to hold off a single alpha werewolf without his daggers and a bit of good old wolfsbane.

“So,” Isaac swallows heavily, Adam’s apple moving just above the blade, “you usually run around with your daggers?”

“Only after threatening an alpha,” Stiles replies, cocking his head a little to the side. “Why?” He glances at the dagger pressed against soft skin again. There is something weirdly… hot about this whole thing. Stiles is dimly aware that maybe he shouldn’t think it’s hot as hell that Isaac is pinned down— or rather, lets himself be pinned down by nothing more than a dagger to his throat.

Isaac swallows again, shifting underneath him a little as well. It’s then that Stiles notices why Isaac seems so nervous. He’s hard. Heat flushes all of his body. Isaac is hard. He is hard underneath him. Isaac’s bright eyes widen in a panic, and he pushes Stiles off a little clumsily, the dagger nicking his throat slightly. “Sorry,” Isaac mutters, turning away. It’s almost comical how his head swivels back and forth between the door to the bedroom and the door leading to the outside. They’re not the same, but they probably look eerily similar for a werewolf who’s about two seconds away from dying of embarrassment.

Slowly, Stiles gets to his feet. “Isaac.” Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. They talked about Allison just last night, and Isaac clearly still has feelings for the late huntress. It’s hard to blame him. She was ripped from him when they’d hardly started a relationship — and then he had to hear her say how she still loved Scott. He’s using Allison’s daggers because Chris gave them to him after he finished training.

Isaac doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders are a tense line. “Listen, I’m sorry. I—”

Stiles crosses the room, and — despite knowing better — runs the tip of the dagger over the nape of Isaac’s neck. Goosebumps spread over the werewolf’s neck and arms. Huh. “What do you want me to do?”

“I— it’s…” Isaac clears his throat again and turns around slowly. “The dagger, it’s—”

Smirking, and ignoring every single warning bell, Stiles presses the dagger against Isaac’s throat again. This time, he’s pushing him not quite as gently as he possibly could have and forces the other boy to walk backward until he hits a wall. “It’s fun, isn’t it?” Stiles wants to kiss him, but he buries the urge. Kidding is different. Kissing is reserved for people you love. It’s an odd thing to think about, but it’s something he cannot shake. Blowing someone in the restroom of a club isn’t very intimate if you keep kissing out of the equation. Stiles can do that. He absolutely can. He will not be slapped in the face by feelings he's totally not having any longer.

Nope.

Isaac swallows again, and there is something so fucking tantalizing about watching his skin move against the blade. It looks like their interests align more than a little. Eventually, Isaac nods again.

"I could make you feel even better." Stiles has no clue where this courage comes from. He doesn't have an issue doing anything like this with a stranger at a club, but with someone he knows? Someone he's got feelings for? Feelings that probably aren't reciprocated? That's a disaster waiting to happen. "But you'd have to open your pants for that."

To his surprise, Isaac follows the instruction, eyes darkening in the process.

Stiles shudders at the sound of a zipper being opened and can't help but look when Isaac pushes his pants down. They’re doing this. They’re doing this because there is Isaac’s cock, hard and shiny and beautiful. This is— a terrible idea. But it’s not like he is known to make good decisions when it comes to his love life. He’s quite literally the worst.

But fuck it.

Fuck it.

Without breaking eye contact, Stiles sinks to his knees. Now, being face to face with Isaac’s dick, he’s a little intimidated by it. His anxiety is always out to get him. It’s wonderful. Stiles won’t let it ruin this moment, though — no matter how wrong this might be. He swallows and tilts his head back up, making sure Isaac is looking at him. “You trust me, right?” Stiles raises his brows. Kneeling between Isaac’s legs, he looks up at the werewolf. He never expected to have a dagger in his hand while blowing someone, but that’s exactly why this question is more than a little important.

Licking his lips, Isaac nods very slowly. “Still kinda thinking about—” he cuts off, shaking his head very vehemently. “No, I trust you.”

Stiles traces the tip of the dagger up the inside of Isaac’s thigh. The werewolf above him stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away. Most importantly, his dick twitches in response. Stiles smirks, locking eyes with Isaac again, whose cheeks turned a darker shade of red. First, he’d considered doing something else, but now he is more than content with making Isaac feel very good. After all, the wolf was — more or less subtly — lurking near him to make sure he’s not about to get jumped by a pack of angry werewolves. It’s a very sweet gesture. “Good.” Stiles scoots a little closer and wraps his fingers around Isaac’s cock, feeling his own twitch in response to the slightly nervous moan above him. Strangely enough, he gets the feeling as if Isaac isn’t as experienced in the matter as Stiles imagined him to be. “You can stop me at any time, okay?” He runs the knife down again, leaving a soft white line in its wake. “For anything.” And up again. Slow and steady with just enough pressure that it all but breaks skin. “Unless you’re coming. You’re going to do that in my mouth, got it?” He nudges the tip of the dagger against sensitive skin. It catches, barely drawing a drop of blood.

Isaac bangs his head against the wall, moaning loud enough for neighbors to hear.

Good.

Stiles brings his mouth up to Isaac’s cock, brushing his lips against the tip. He’s smirking a little and purposefully not looking up even though he can feel the wolf’s heavy gaze on him again. There’s a subtle tremble in the other boy’s legs. Briefly, Stiles wonders if this is going to last long. He kind of hopes it doesn’t. Knowing he can bring Isaac to the edge in no time would be absolutely breathtaking. Stiles shifts his grip a bit, dragging his thumb over the underside of Isaac’s cock as he parts his lips to take the tip into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Isaac’s curse is something between a moan and a groan.

The noise sets Stiles' nerves on fire. Giving a blow job isn't something he necessarily hates, but it has never been this fun, this fucking hot to know he can make Isaac come undone with his mouth, hand, and a dagger pressed against his thigh. They should do this more often. Stiles removes his hand from the equation, placing it on Isaac's hip again. He'd rather get used to his size before the other boy does something unexpected. Although Stiles doubts it. Not with the dagger pressed against him. He swirls his tongue around the tip, moaning a little at the taste of precum.

Isaac's fingers curl and uncurl, as if he's considering grabbing Stiles' hair. It's adorable, really, that he's not doing anything without permission. Maybe it’s not that Isaac’s innocent, maybe he’s more so respectful of boundaries. Whoever ends up dating him is going to have a wonderful boyfriend.

Stiles stomach twists.

Don’t think about it.

Stiles pulls off and looks up at Isaac. "You can grab my hair," he says, tapping a finger against his hips, "or pull it. I don't mind." You could do everything to me. There’s an edge of bitterness cutting into his pleasure, and Stiles hopes Isaac isn’t paying any attention to his chemosignals. Grinning a little, he leans forward and takes his cock back into his mouth. Only a second later, fingers curl tightly into his short strand. There you go. Stiles hollows out his cheek, taking more of Isaac into his mouth. He struggles a bit with coordinating his hands and mouth, especially when he's doing something different with all of them. For now, he should probably focus on his mouth the most, and on relaxing his throat. Part of him wants Isaac to fall in love with him, but it’s stupid. They both know why this is happening.

He’s a hunter.

He’s using Allison’s daggers.

Stiles is fucked up for using this to his advantage. He’s fucked for allowing this to happen. But he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t stop — still can’t. Not with the noises Isaac makes — his little punched-out moans — or the way his fingers tighten in Stiles’ hair every single time he takes more of his cock into his mouth. He’s going to hell for this. He is so going to hell for this.

But it’s too late anyway. Stopping now wouldn’t undo how far they’ve gone. Might as well go all the way.

Stiles shifts the dagger in his hand, pressing the flat side against Isaac’s thigh, more of a reminder that it’s still there, but also to keep the other boy pressed against the wall — even though they both know that he wouldn’t be able to hold him if Isaac actually wanted to do something. His dick twitches at the thought. Fuck. Stiles closes his eyes. Isaac. Focus on Isaac. That’s what counts. Stiles decides on letting the tip of his cock touch the back of his throat a few times. He can feel the muscles in Isaac’s legs tighten, probably fighting the urge to just thrust his hips forwards.

The fifth time, Stiles doesn’t stop there. He relaxes his throat and focuses on deep breaths through his nose. It’s not the first time he deepthroated someone, but he wouldn’t exactly call himself an expert — or someone who enjoys doing it all the time. His gag reflex is a little too sensitive for that. But Stiles moves his open mouth down the length of Isaac’s cock, breathing through his throat trying to actively work against him until he’s pressing his nose against Isaac’s crotch. The noises he’s rewarded with are worth fucking everything.

Isaac half curses, half moans. Stiles is half sure he's heard his name somewhere in that string of sounds, but he's not sure, and he's too afraid to look up. He's afraid to find Isaac standing there with his eyes closed, imagining somebody else, while his imagination is playing tricks on him.

Stiles pulls back. The hold Isaac has on his hair is slightly uncomfortable, but he doesn't mind. Not at all. For all he cares, Isaac could hold him in place and use his mouth and throat. But Isaac wouldn't do anything like that without Stiles' permission. The last thing he wants to do is talk, however, so Stiles keeps his mouth occupied, putting everything he's learned into this blow job.

Listening to Isaac slowly lose his mind is the hottest thing Stiles has heard in forever. He is saying something or babbling rather. It's impossible to say if Isaac struggles to form a coherent sentence, or if Stiles' brain simply can't comprehend a single word. Both are more than likely.

Either way, Stiles can't ignore his own dick any longer. He struggles with his belt, button, and zipper. Regretting he didn't change into his sweatpants like usual. When he finally gets his hand on himself, Stiles moans around Isaac’s cock.

"Stiles, Stiles." His name sounds like a prayer on Isaac's lips.

Stiles almost came because of that. He whimpers softly, trying to move his own hand in some sort of rhythm, but he struggles to focus on everything all at once. He takes another breath through his nose, his own hips rocking forward involuntarily, as he takes all of Isaac again, and when his nose presses against Isaac’s crotch again, the grip on his hair tightens painfully. Isaac's cock pulses on his tongue, knees buckling slightly, as he's coming down his throat.

Fuck.

Tears sting in his eyes as he's gagging on Isaac's dick.

"Stop."

Stiles blinks, trying to look up but the angle is fucking awkward, and Isaac isn't letting go of his hair — and it's hard to stop his throat from working when there's a cock shoved down it. He's spreading his precum over his cock, trying to focus more on his pleasure than the slight discomfort.

Isaac all but yanks him off. Drops of his cum give Stiles a taste of what he's missed out on. "Stop. Stiles," Isaac sounds just as breathless as Stiles feels. "Stop. You said—" Isaac tilts his head back, forcing Stiles to look up "— you said I could stop you at any time." His accent’s become thicker, almost like he can’t really control it.

Confused, Stiles draws his brows together, but he stops chasing his climax anyway. Instead, he just kneels there, looking up at Isaac staring down at him, wondering what he looks like to him now that this is over. Licking his lips, Stiles drops the dagger next to him.

Isaac's gaze cuts to it for all but a second.

"Please," Stiles whispers, squirming a little.

Isaac releases his grip on his hair and offers him a hand. "Come on, up."

There's absolutely no way Stiles will be able to stand. He can feel his legs from being stuck in a kneeling position for too long, and he's still uncomfortably hard. "Isaac," Stiles whispers, running his hands over his thighs.

"Fine." Isaac drops to his knees, grabbing Stiles' jaw. "This works as well." And he kisses him. He fucking kisses him. Stiles is sure his heart is about to explode. Isaac curls a hand around the nape of his neck, pulling Stiles closer to him.

The position is a bit awkward, his thighs trembling now that he's more upright, and Stiles hates the way the muscles in his thighs start to ache. But Isaac deepens the kiss, wraps his long fingers around Stiles' dick, and— fuck everything else. He's kissing Isaac as if his life depended on it, and maybe it does. Just a little.

"Bloody hell," Isaac breathes, pulling away from the kiss. His fingers are skilled, and his movements secure. There’s nothing of the restraint he showed in the beginning. "That mouth of yours." He chuckles, almost as if to himself, and drags his thumb over the head of Stiles' dick. "That blow job made me want to write my vows."

Stiles grabs Isaac’s arm and shoulder, holding onto him. He needs to fucking breathe, but it's so incredibly hard right now — and Isaac talking really does not help at all. Swallowing heavily, he tips his head forward and watches Isaac’s hand move on him, thumb swiping over the tip of his dick, spreading more precum. His grip tightens. Stiles can feel Isaac’s muscles work. He bites his bottom lip.

“I know you’re close,” Isaac says softly, and Stiles cannot tell if his words are what makes him notice his orgasm rolling in, or if Isaac convinced his body. “Come on, Pretty Boy, let go.”

And just like that, Stiles is coming all over Isaac’s hand. Even though his blunt nail digs into the other boy’s arm, trying desperately to hold onto him, Stiles collapses against him. Breathe. Breathe. His poor brain struggles with its most basic tasks right now.

Isaac wraps his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Just so you know,” he whispers, lips so close it’s like he’s painting the words into Stiles’ skin, “I usually go on a date first.” The Cockney accent hides behind an American one again.

Stiles raises his head, squinting at Isaac. “What?” Once his brain works better again, he really needs to ask why he’s fighting his accent so much. It’s kind of hot.

Chuckling, Isaac grabs his chin again. "I usually go on a date first." He pecks his lips, ever so gently, and Stiles is pretty sure he's about to combust.

But he's still not entirely sure he heard him right. Unless… maybe it's just small talk?

“Soo… dinner?”

Stiles snorts out a laugh, and Isaac draws his brows together, looking almost offended at the reaction. Offended not hurt. Seems like he knows exactly how Stiles is feeling about him. Fucking werewolves and their supernatural noses. “More like takeout and a movie,” he replies, grinning at Isaac. He feels stupidly giddy. It’s annoying.

“Oh, I like that better.” Isaac kisses his nose. "Let's do that instead."

#stisaac #isaac lahey #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles x isaac #isaac x stiles #kinktober 2022 #*tv:teen wolf #*w:kinktober2022 #*w:complete #*s:stisaac

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lostonehero · 7 months

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I'm inspired. Thanks for the comments. Here's more YouTube scooped Micheal

"Ok, questions, and remember all donations go to the hospital Jeremy works out. Again, this is a charity live stream, so I won't make anything off of this." Micheal leans back watching Jeremy smile, and his uncle works on a new cane.

Henry hums. "I'm happy to help out, even if I'm focused on a new project." He chuckles. "My sister asked me to make her a cane, honestly surprised it took her this long to need one." He pauses. "Not to mean anything by that, Jen, you've always been stronger than I have."

Jeremy chuckles. "Nice save, there, Mr. Emily."

Micheal pauses watching comments wiz by. "Oh, Uncle Henry, they want to know if they can meet your sister."

"Meet Jen?" Henry pauses, putting his knife down. "I mean, if she is free. I'm not going to speak for her. She will be coming up north soon enough with her own boy." He hums.

Micheal nods. "Aunt Jen is different, but I like that she isn't scared of me like Aunt Margaret, or her kids and grandkids. Her son is nice as well, but he does ask a lot of questions."

Jeremy gasps. "Ooo, this is a good one. Micheal, will you film at the hospital?"

"I mean, I would have to get a lot of consent. I could do a little video with the kids, but they would have to agree to it. I wouldn't mind filming in public, but I already get looks enough as is." Micheal shrugs. "I also rather not do full makeup again. It's too time-consuming and partially blinds me."

"Nobody is asking you to do that." Jeremy chuckles. "However, I like you the way you are. Also, when Micheal turns around, you can see I fixed his ass, I mean not really because of clothes, but I fixed the tears and his back too. Maybe with enough donations, I can show you guys what I fixed and added to him."

"Jeremy! First off children watch me." Micheal huffs.

"So? It's not like you have anything lewd left." Jeremy waves his hands when Micheal hits him. "But still, it could encourage people to donate."

Micheal sighs. "It is a good cause... but not with Uncle Henry here. I don't think he has recovered from the mouse incident."

Henry sighs. "I rather you not bring that up, Micheal." He pauses his carving. "As long as long as no needles are involved, I'm fine with it."

Jeremy raised his brow. "You afraid of needles Mr. Emily?"

"I am not fond of them." Henry sighs.

Micheal waves. "Enough out of you, Jeremy. Alright, next question, ah, this is for you, Jeremy."

"Oo for me?" Jeremy pulls the screen near him. "Ah, well, that is a question. I'm never going to be fully healed, but I learned to adapt. I'm permanently disabled, but I don't let that stop me. I'm a great nurse though, also never ask a doctor to put a line in they barely handle needles and are terrible at it."

"Good to note if I ever have blood again." Micheal snickers. "Alright let's continue and we'll figure out stretch goals rewards, and again I'm not sending out any of my body because that's gross, and I want to keep what is left kf my original body, ya freaks."

#scooped michael #youtuber micheal #micheal afton #jeremy fitzgerald #henry emily

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jjenjoyer · 2 years

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being a hero isn't free : eddie munson x gn! reader

summary: eddie gets into a fight with jason to protect you but he breaks his finger so he can't play guitar for a while </3 so he teaches you to play :]

[warnings: bullying, use of 'queer' as an insult, h0mophobia, swearing, violence]

note: this is my first time writing a fanfic in a WHILE- might be trash so i sincerely apologise

1.3k words

"oi, freak!"

you spin around to the yell from behind you, wondering if it was directed at you-- which was honestly stupid, who else was a freak in this godforsaken new school? nobody.

you lock eyes with a tall, blonde and blue eyed guy in a varsity jacket, leaning on a locker and staring you down like a wolf would its prey.

"can i help you?"

he rolls his eyes and treads closer to your slightly trembling body, towering over you with his menacing aura crawling under your skin, making you shiver in fear.

in a flash, the jock is pinning you against the locker (and not in a good way), hands trapping you from running like hell out of there.

"where did you transfer from?"

"new york, what's it to you, blondie?"

"first off, it's jason. jason carver, remember it, freak. new york, huh? knew it, i can smell the queer from here. now fuck off before you spread that shit."

you squeeze your eyes shut as you see him lift his hand, and wait for the impact.

but it never comes.

you peek to see why the entire hallway began screaming out of nowhere, and open your eyes to a scene that you definitely did NOT expect on your first day--

a long haired, denim-clad, pretty boy knocking the jock to the ground, successfully landing a punch to his defined cheekbones, chunky silver rings bruising them instantly.

you don't know who your saviour is, but damn, he's hot.

his victory is short lasted though, because you blink and suddenly this 'jason' is crouching with one hand pressing down the brave guy's back, where you spot a dio (HOLY SHIT HE LISTENS TO DIO??!?!) back patch under the jock's grip, and his ring-bearing hand being crushed under his white shoe.

"STOP IT! LET GO OF HIM!"

"what are you gonna do about it, little sheep? fight me? hah."

your eyes well up with tears as you hear the guy under jason whimpering in pain, begging him to stop before he breaks his fingers.

a sickening "crack" echoes through the now-silent hallway, the Dio man in hysterics, rambling something about a guitar through sobs. you rush to his side as soon as jason leaves, the rest of the school walking away behind him.

"hey dude, you really didn't have to do that, why would you- holy shit that looks horrible, gotta get you to a hospital-"

the guy who saved you looks up at you, and your heart stops for a good three seconds--

he's gorgeous.

big, black puppy eyes stare up at you, a layer of tears coating them, so tragically beautiful.

you slip your arms under his, and heave the sobbing mess of limbs up, stumbling a bit under the weight, but managing to drag him to your car.

by the time you reach the car, he's calmed down a bit, the sobbing decreased to an occasional sniffle, him holding the injured hand close to his chest and down looking at it dejectedly.

"hey, what's your name?"

"ed- eddie munson. you?"

"y/n"

"nice to meet you, y/n. this isn't the ideal way of meeting a gorgeous person like you, but here we are."

"dude- i cannot thank you enough, if it wasn't for you i'd get a black eye on my first day in this place."

"first day?! man, i really gotta kill carver now."

"maybe hold that off for a bit, yeah? i'm gonna take you to the hospital now, if thats alright."

"yes please. ahh shit, this sucks, i have a show tomorrow."

"show?"

"guitar. something you need your left hand to play."

"oh shit. shit shit shit i'm so sorry-"

"it's alright, nobody even listens to us anyways."

"i would."

eddie looks up at you with those goddamn puppy dog eyes again, a small smile on his pretty face as he asked if you were serious, to which you smiled and pushed the "ride the lightning" by metallica cassette into the car player, hearing him scream when the first note of "escape" plays, which is where you paused it last.

"HOLY SHIT!! YOU LISTEN TO METALLICA?"

"yeah.. not just that though. i fuckin' love metal."

you catch eddie's eyes widening even further from your peripheral vision, seeing him grinning like a fool as you smirk slightly.

maybe this school isn't so bad after all.

after the hospital visit, where it is determined that eddie broke his pointer, middle and ring finger, his hand cast in a chunky white plaster till his wrist which wasn't to come off for three months. he had instructed you to drive to his house, not making eye contact with you the entire time.

safe to say he was devastated.

and you were extremely guilty.

"is there ANYTHING i can do for you?"

"...well, there is one thing."

"name it."

"let me teach you to play guitar, please. i can't stand watch Sweetheart sit there unused, collecting dust for three months."

"oh shit, that's your request? i've always wanted to learn guitar... you're the one doing me a favour here."

eddie giggles and punches the air happily, making you laugh as well.

upon reaching his trailer, you follow him to his room, jaw dropping to the floor when you take it in. all the posters of the bands you love, the little trinkets stashed atop the cabinets, the scattered dungeons and dragons brainstorming sheets on the bed--

you were gone. head over heels, even.

"like what you see?"

"i love it."

he took down the magnificent guitar off the wall and placed it in your hands.

"she's all yours now. come, i'll show you the basics"

eddie guides you onto the bed and helps position the guitar properly, maneuvering your hand to the basic major and power chords, you got them all to sound except the F chord, which was frustrating despite his reassurances that nobody gets it on the first try.

he taught you how to play the power chords of "rock you like a hurricane" by the scorpions, which was surprisingly easy.

upon finishing the song, you flung your body backwards onto the bed, stretching your sore back.

"so, do you like it"

"i love it, its so much fun. you're an incredible teacher, eds- eddie."

"...did you just call me eds?"

you giggle and slide off the bed, hiding in a way that only your eyes peek out from above the mattress:

"no... hehe"

your eyes trail over to the desk, where you grab a pen and hoist yourself back onto the bed.

"gimme your hand. no, the other one."

eddie places his casted hand in your awaiting one with a confused look as you uncap the pen and begin to scribble away at his cast, chewing on your bottom lip in the process.

five minutes later, you proudly place his hand in front of his face, showing off your masterpiece:

"eddie munson: my hero :)"

was the text under an impressively resemblant sketch of eddie in a knight outfit, a doodle stretching from his casted knuckle to his wrist.

eddie admired it for a good minute, his eyes filled with stars as he analysed the details of your sketch, eventually breaking the awkward silence with a loud "AT YOUR SERVICE!", and a knightly pose which made you both giggle, no matter how much he tried to keep a straight face.

and just like that, with daily guitar lessons at eddie's trailer after school, the two of you became friends, maybe even more (however that was never discussed properly), and the three months flew by, by the end of which he could finally play his beloved "Sweetheart" again. by that time, you had become quite good yourself, which prompted you to invest in a "Darling" of your own, which was the exact colour compliment to his-- red with black cracks.

the two of you were perfect for one another, and by the time you both successfully graduated, the two of you became inseparable.

the freaks gotta stick together, right?

thank you for reading if you did ! please leave requests if you want, its 2am rn so its probably gonna look like flaming hot shit to me tmr morning but aaaanywaaays hope u liked it maybe

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x gn reader #gender neutral fanfic #i love eddie munson #fuck jason all my homies hate jason

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

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So John remillard sets up right next to her son's machine and sit there and he said he's trying to put something into the soap inlet you say the whole time is a huge piece of work okay and he is also an idiot and on purpose and he says oh you're blaming him because he can't see him s*** like that he does this kind of thing all the time he doesn't understand what he's doing but today is going to be his day because he's going to take a meeting he's going to several shows those shows are going to take him down and it's going to be the end of him pretty soon and finally he's going to be general grievous the general grievous he gets completely incinerated is a pitiful creature we're going to take more of his businesses over today Lock stock and barrel everything that he's owned or owns is going to be ours I'm going to make damn sure that he goes nowhere to I feel bad for those who pity him because they lose their stuff to him because they don't understand his stupid mentality it's obvious from his idiot face. Those guys are moron okay isn't no one to quit he's going to keep doing this stupid s*** and it recommended that we get him out of here and it's not happened yet so I'm requesting it again if Court he probably should be there for a warrant or something

Thor Freya

I want to remind people that I'm living a human life and these people are making it absolutely impossible and miserable you have to have common sense in our realm too common Sense dictates that nobody can withstand this kind of treatment everybody's an enemy everybody's going to mess with my stuff come on now I've already got enough problems let's use some common sense and listen to me and listen to my wife we're crying for help or your people we've done tons of work received tons of people now programs going to save everyone only requires to use you get stupid idiots out of my face who can't even do proper addition or wipe their own ass

Zues Hera

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the-breloominati · 3 years

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yeah pan 100% deserved more than what she got in gt

#cause apparently there's this interview where someone who worked on it i think?#said she didn't go super saiyan cause the doll episode set her up as being a damsel in distress but like #it didn't have to be that way?????#like. a character can have an episode where they get into trouble and need to be saved or whatever #but then you can like?? have them get stronger??? or put them in a situation where they're like #'oh nobody's coming to save me this time/help isn't going to come soon enough; i have to save myself'#and then bam you get an episode where there's like. growth or whatever #and after that they start to participate more and more in the fights in the series and need less saving #and hey; maybe they can even defeat the big bad at the end #and besides that she stopped a bunch of guys with guns from robbing a bank in the first episode i think??#so like. they could've at least TRIED y'know?#and like i'm watching that scene where pan's passed out in the desert while giru's fighting that trapinch-lookin thing #and would it have been underwhelming for her to go super saiyan for the first time against a giant worm? maybe #but it almost maybe seemed like it was leading up to her waking up and mustering up the strength to fight the worm (with the help of giru)#and then she just. wakes up and giru's already killed it #like.#ok.#a fungus watches dragon ball gt

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brrahbrrahcharacterimagines · 3 years

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Quickie (Might Guy x Reader) *Smut*

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Might Guy x Reader

Word Count: 2192

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), quickie, dirty talk, praise kink, lots of dirty sex things

A/N: oop and again my thirstiness reaches over 2000 words... enjoy

Your week couldn't have been much worse. You were only assigned low-ranking missions despite your skill. Instead of going off to save the leaf village, you saved a cat from a tree and pulled weeds. It couldn't have gotten much lower than that.

It isn't that you aren't powerful. Your jutsu is on par with the likes of Guy or Kakashi, so you don't know why you drew the short stick this week.

On top of that, on your way home from the store you dropped an armful of groceries and apples rolled across the street in front of a group of civilians. Already not liking to be looked at so often in your uniform, looking clumsy while people watched was somewhat of a final straw. When Kakashi told you he was getting a group together to go out, you didn't hesitate to say yes.

A couple of your colleagues were already at the bar when you got there, but none of your close friends. You made your way to the counter, calling the bartender over.

"Can I get a tequila sunrise? Extra tequila?" You ask the man behind the counter. He chuckles back, nodding and making your drink.

Handing it over to you, the drink doesn't stay in your hand for long. After a while you've had a second, and before you knew it you were ready to hit the dance floor. You glanced back over towards the other Shinobi, seeing Kakashi finally made it. You smiled at him with a little wave before making your way to the floor.

You let the music take hold of your body, the bass becoming your heartbeat as you moved to the rhythm. You didn't mind dancing alone, it was freeing. It was as if you were letting go of all the stresses of the week. You moved your hips back and forth to the beat, flipping your hair every so often. You felt hot.

Guy didn't want to go out tonight. He'd told Kakashi he wasn't feeling it, but Kakashi could be more persistent than just about anyone. All Kakashi had to do was tell Guy that he could outdrink him, and Guy had to show up just to prove him wrong.

Walking in, Guy noticed pretty much everyone was already there. he made his way to Kakashi, taking note of the glass of water in front of him.

"Waiting on me to start our competition?" Asked guy with a confident smile.

"Oh, hey Guy!" Said Kakashi with a wave. While his tone was cheerful, Guy sensed a note of sarcasm underneath. "I guess you'll win tonight, I'm the sober monitor tonight."

Damn it, thought Guy, he got me.

Deciding to enjoy himself anyway, Guy ordered some sake to get started. Looking around, he noticed a member of the party was missing. He knows Kakashi had asked you to come, but when he didn't find you at the table he figured you had decided not to come after all.

That's when he caught a glimpse of (h/c) hair from the dance floor. You were nearly straight in front of him, dancing without a care in the world. You had a smile on your face, lost in the music. Guy couldn't help but stare at you. You looked so...

Youthful.

He had always admired your skills in taijutsu. He liked the fact that you valued it in the same way that he did. Yet, he felt something more than just admiration when he looked at you tonight. Looking at you out on the dance floor, Guy couldn't help but notice just how attractive you were. His eyes made their way up and down the curves of your body, lingering on your chest to admire the fact that you had chosen to wear a low-cut dress tonight.

Lower down, he stared at the way you swung your body to the beat. The way your hips moved were almost sinful.

Guy cleared his throat, turning away. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks, hoping nobody saw in the dim light. Unluckily for him, as soon as he turned away he came face to face with Kakashi.

"See something you like?" He teased. Guy could only feel his blush growing stronger as he tried to stammer out an acceptable response. Kakashi just chuckled at his coworker. "Go say hi. It's not like she's a stranger."

Not one to let Kakashi get the last laugh, Guy decided to actually follow through with his joking advice.

You had no idea how long you had been dancing. The songs flowed one to the next, seamless transitions making sure you would have no idea how many songs passed as you danced the night away.

"May I join you?" Asked a familiar voice, jolting you from your trance.

"Guy!" You exclaimed, turning around to face him. Your breathless smile made his heart skip a beat, but you didn't notice. "I'm glad you made it."

Guy returned your smile, "I didn't know you would be here. I'm happy I was wrong."

You continued moving, more mindful of your colleague in front of you. He was a really good dancer, which wasn't all that surprising. In many ways taijutsu is a dance in itself, and his skill with it could explain his skill in moving his body now.

The two of you danced together, keeping a respectable distance. That was, until, you saw a mischievous glint cross his eye. Guy began walking away, and you had to admit you were sad to see him go. You turned your thoughts back to the song, moving in time to the rhythm as you assumed he walked away. Then you felt them on you.

His hands.

You felt two large hands grab you by the hips. It would have scared you had you not recognized the green sleeves around the wrists.

Your breath caught in your throat, causing a smile to rise to Guy's face even though you couldn't see it. He began moving in time with you, swaying to the beat behind you. He was almost tantalizingly close to you, and you felt your breath get heavier. How had you never noticed him like this before?

The song transitioned to the next, the pace a bit faster. You took a leap of faith.

Leaning forward just enough, you shook your hips from side to side without moving Guy's hands. You felt them grab onto you tighter, only spurring you on as you began to grind against your fellow ninja.

At first you tried to ignore it, but soon it was impossible not to feel his hardening cock against your ass. It would be a lie to say it wasn't only spurring you to continue. It was hard to deny the way his reaction was making you feel, a tingle shooting down to your core.

You had just started to get into it when he used his grip on you to force you upright again.

You felt your heart drop. Maybe you shouldn't have done that.

"Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes." Said Guy into your ear, the roughness of his voice making you lust for the man even more. Admittedly, you watched as he walked away. He winked at you before sauntering off, the muscles on his back defined as he turned away from you.

Five minutes couldn't pass by fast enough.

Guy entered the bathroom, taking a deep breath once he was inside. He didn't know what had come over him, but he needed you. He needed you bad, and he needed you now. His head was spinning just thinking about it, and he'd barely had a cup of sake. The way you felt under his hands, and pressed up against him, was what was making him feel this way.

He was never this needy. Guy was always the one to have this effect on women, never the other way around. Sure, he'd had plenty of experience. But he had never been so desperate for the bathroom door to open and see you standing there.

As the minutes passed, he began to worry if it had been a mistake. What if you weren't coming? You could be with the rest of your friends right now, laughing about what he had just said to you. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. You weren't like that. Right?

He heard the bathroom door swing open, the quiet click of a lock accompanying its close.

"Hey," you said.

You mentally smacked yourself at your word choice. That's really all you could come up with?

Looking up at Guy, you knew you looked needy. Lust overwhelmed your senses as you took in his strong physique. He made his way towards you, leaning down towards your lips. You eyes fluttered shut.

"Hey," he said. You opened your eyes to see a cocky smile plastered on his face.

"Shut up," you replied, not caring much for his teasing as you smashed your lips to his. As soon as you did he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you back hungrily. You couldn't help but moan into his mouth at the feeling, only spurring him on.

You grabbed at his chest, using a fistful of his uniform to try and pull him even closer to you. His hands wandered lower, pulling up the short skirt of your dress to grope your ass. He growled lowly, kneading at the soft flesh.

Guy's lips moved downwards to the side of your neck, kissing a trail until he found your sweet spot. He stopped, sucking, biting, and kissing as all you could do was moan for him. You knew you would have to explain the hickey to your team later, but right now you didn't care. All you cared about was how good it felt to have Guy's lips on your body.

Your own hands wandered lower on Guy's body, palming his erection through his pants. He wasn't even fully hard yet, and you could feel how big he was. He bucked his hips towards you as you continued jacking him off through the fabric that felt way too thick for your liking.

Guy reached down, and in one swift movement your panties were on the ground. You felt his calloused hands run up your inner thighs, sending a shiver up your spine.

You gasped, feeling his fingers make their way to your soft folds as his lips found their way back to your own

"You're so fucking wet for me baby," he mumbled against you lips, "I bet this is what you wanted, wasn't it?"

You didn't say anything at first, taken by surprise at his dirty talk. It wasn't something you expected out of Guy, but you weren't complaining.

He pushed a finger into your hold, making you moan. You rolled your hips against his hand, practically begging for more. He gave you just that, starting to pump two fingers in and out of your dripping pussy.

"Guy," you moaned. He felt his dick twitch at the way his name fell from your lips. He was sure you'd be the death of him if you kept this up.

"God baby," he said, "you're so tight."

His tongue explored you mouth as he kept fingering you, curling his fingers inside in a way that only made you want him more.

"Turn around for me." You did as he asked, turning around so that your ass was on display for him. You braced your arms on the wall, feeling Guy press himself up behind you. "Good girl," he whispered in your ear.

You heard clothes ruffle as he undressed enough to get his cock out. You barely had any warning before he pulled up your dress and shoved his hard cock into your soaking cunt.

"Fuck Guy!" You gasped. You could feel his thrust falter at your words, only making you more confident. You pushed your hips back towards him. He gave you a moment to regain your breath, pulling out just enough to slam back into you.

He started off hard and fast, and you were already seeing stars. You wouldn't last very long if he kept this up, and you suspected neither would he.

"I'm already so fucking close baby," you groan, "your cock feels so fucking good." He groaned in response, continuing to fuck you until it was all you could think about. With every thrust he hit deep inside of you, making you closer and closer to your release. Your moans grew louder as you felt the pressure build up inside you. "God you're gonna make me cum," you moaned, almost screaming as you hit your high.

Your walls clenched around Guy's dick, pushing him over the edge as he spilled his seed inside of you. You didn't even care that he didn't pull out, too busy riding out your own orgasm.

After a moment, he pulled out of you and re-dressed himself.

"I'll see you around," he said with a wink, leaving you in the bathroom to process what had just happened. You knew this would be far from the last time.

MASTERLIST

#might gai x reader #might guy x reader #might guy #maito gai x reader #maito guy x reader #maito guy #might guy smut #guy smut #guy sensei x reader #guy sensei smut #maito guy smut #might guy x reader smut #maito guy x reader smut

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dethkomic · 2 years

Note

Thanks for making the music tutorial! Do you have pointers for making comics and especially when it comes to keeping with it? It's like every time I start, I never finish or I get two pages in and don't continue. Any advice for that? Sorry this isn't totally an art question.

On here and my main I've been getting a lot of asks about comic production and design and art and writing and... boy howdy, so much great stuff I wish I could sit down with each and every one of you guys and talk your ears off about. Never think you have to ask me about one thing or another on here. I love getting asks like these!

So, again, maybe this is owed a longer explanation when I find the time to do so, but I can absolutely give a few pointers right now:

#1 - Do your best to write your ending first. Everyone's going to tell you this, and it's crucial when it comes to a lot of storytelling outlets, be they prose or comics, or as I'm finding out -- even stuff like songs. Write with the knowledge that your ending is there, and you will write confidently. Write without an ending, and you risk not knowing how it all comes together and getting discouraged for feeling way over your head. And that last part is absolutely me, even though I'm getting better at open-ended things... it still happens. Often. Doing this also helps you to figure out what happens along the way, what you can leave out, and the all-important thing that is pacing. Oh! And don't think you have to have every single minute detail of your story figured out. A pretty good feeling for how things wrap up is better than none at all.

#2 - Throw interesting things into your comic at all times. And I don't just mean major plot points. Those are awesome and if you can manage it, do it. But if even if the simple act of including something you really enjoy drawing (I do this a lot with animals and vehicles) gets you to open up your drawing pad and start making a new page of comic art, then the day is won! And about that bit with the major plot points...

#3 - Don't save your good ideas for later. If you have a good idea for your story, use it as soon as possible. Don't hoard the good stuff if you can easily throw it in, sooner. You'll keep your interest (and probably your audience's!) by revealing interesting bits of your story, your characters, your interactions and more, by telling them the moment inspiration hits. And you'll think of other cool things to fill in when "later" comes. I promise.

#4 - Don't sweat the art, sweat the story. If I drew dethkomic with the same kind of mania I draw a lot of my other stuff, we'd be here all year waiting for a new update. Especially when it's a hobby/fancomic/just for fun kinda thing. Whole-assing your art is great, but panels fly by the reader's line of sight so quickly, they'll barely notice a fair amount of half-assing if your story's good. And a half-assed story with all its imperfections is better than a story never told. Certainly go ahead and save your best arting for the important panels, but if you only managed to draw three fingers on a character in the background of an establishing shot, nobody's gonna care.

#5 - Just do it. This is the hardest one on the list. Sometimes, you just gotta say "My people want to see this!" enough times in your head that it gets you into your work. Don't worry if anyone is or isn't reading/will give you likes. Don't worry if you think you've taken too long a hiatus for whatever reason. Don't worry if you think it's pointless. Finishing a comic is a great effort and not for the faint of heart. Don't downplay the difficulty of doing any labor of love, really. Shit's hard. But it's fun. And give yourself a break because you're allowed to fail at updates and change your drawing style and re-do chapter 2 fifteen different times. It's okay. You're making comics! And that's awesome!

And I'll be your number one fan if you do end up making one. Please let me know. You know why?

Because dethkomic loves you! Thanks for the ask!

#making comics #fan comics #fanart #fanfic #tips on writing #tips on drawing #comic advice #answered

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kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years

Text

Sinners. (Stalker!San x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Semi Non-Con, sadism, masochism, fear kink, hair play, head shaving, complete submission, humiliation, degradation, anal, camera play, piercing, denial, chastity, Psycho!San, twisted and dark fucked up shit. Read at your own risk. You've been warned. This isn't for everyone. It is purely fiction and doesn't reflect any individual's behavior nor does it encourage it.

It was early in the morning and she was about to go to college in an hour. But instead of running around having breakfast, getting ready and making sure she had her assignments ready, Y/n was standing in front of her mirror, eyes closed as she touched her pussy and touched an electric razor to her head, imagining what it'd feel like if it was on and an imaginary 'Master' was forcefully shearing her. Like a sheep. "Ahh... Master… please..." The girl let a whimper fall from her lips, having no idea that the curtains of her room were open and someone could watch her through the window.

"Fuck…" The man standing outside, behind the PCO booth on the sidewalk outside Y/n's apartment complex whispered to himself, feeling his jeans tighten. Taking a picture of the girl before switching it to video mode, planning to send her the photo later. It had been a while now. Maybe a bit more than a while. He was ready and sure now, unable to wait anymore.

San had to have Y/n now.

He had to claim her rightfully his. Or, he felt like he'd lose his mind now. Just watching the pretty girl wasn't enough anymore. He wanted to touch her, feel her, tell her, that he knew… He knew that she wasn't as innocent as she made herself look in front of the people that knew her. That she was actually a hormonal little dirty girl. And whilst nobody knew that nasty side of her, he did. The thought made the man feel powerful. In control. Like he had a claim over Y/n.

There was no way in hell that she wasn't made for him.

Y/n got done with masturbating and packed up before going to college, having no idea that she had a stalker. The girl spent her usual regular day at college, having no idea of the storm that was coming.

San knew Y/n were in class and that’s exactly when he wanted to send her the photo he took. A sick smirk made its way on his face and he took his phone out, sending it with the caption, 'having fun there?' He knew where she sat, a lone desk by one of the windows in this classroom, the spot he was standing in providing him a clear view of her face. Yes. The man had all the information he could gather about her memorized by heart.

Y/n was drifting off when she suddenly felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, peeking at the Professor sneakily, the girl took it out and unlocked it only to choke on her breath before starting to cough, making some heads turn which caused her to put the device in her hand away to prevent it getting seized. Her blood ran cold and skin paled.

What the fuck just happened?!

San patiently waited for the female to exit her college, her being earlier than the usual time today, however. The man grinned deviously as he texted her again once she passed by him in a hurry, his taller figure getting up to follow her.

'Will you give that show again? Would you like someone to shave your hair off? That’s what gets you off right?' It shamelessly read, making her tremble.

Y/n started to rush towards her house as she didn't live too far away from her college, not having to use any vehicle because it was barely a 10 minute walk as she nervously glanced around. She was quite twisted herself. And so, a dark part of her mind thought... things, making her start to shudder as tears welled up in self hatred. She hated the soft pounds in her southern region, overpowering the thump of her heart ringing in her ears as she reached the building and rushed in.

'What's the rush for, Princess? Are you so eager to touch yourself again? Tsk. Are you horny? Knowing someone is watching you?' San was absolutely sick in the head. Chuckling at his own text, he bit his lip and hit send.

Y/n was shaking as she read the message. Yes. In her fantasies this was… thrilling, exciting, pussy throbbing and she'd like to play like this with her top but… a legit stalker? She wasn't THAT fucked. Or so the girl belived, at least. Rushing to the curtains after locking the front door, the girl drew them while trying to catch someone's glance outside but no luck.

San had mastered the art of hiding as he watched her. It wasn't like this was new or anything.

Y/n felt hopeless. She couldn't even call the cops! What would the girl show them as evidence?! She didn't want to tell or show them this! Her filthiest desire.

The 21 year old was having a mental breakdown! All her savings were in this college. She could not run away, didn't have any friends because Y/n was a foreigner and the people of this country were rather hostile to any outsiders. Couldn't go back home because she had run away from there, which was a hell in itself, when she had received her acceptance letter.

'Aww come on now!' Her phone pinged again, and then again. 'You can’t keep the fun all to yourself!'

The realisation felt like a bucket of ice cold water everytime she was reminded of it. The person had seen her masturbating and that to the fucking… razor! They knew her fantasies and at that the darkest ones! She couldn't even text them back asking him who it was! The girl was simply too embarrassed to! What if it were someone she knew in her college or around the apartment complex!

It was a dark day and it started raining. Y/n felt tears streaming down her face as her heart beat never slowed down, more terror filling her as everything outside got dark and thunder struck.

Maybe she should call the cops... No one else would help a foreigner… She just knew it. Nobody liked college students especially that lived alone because they were 'reckless' and often lied to get a good laugh out of the elders with their friends. So no one really opened their door for a student they didn't know personally.

But what would she tell the cops?! They ask for evidence!

Meanwhile, San stood on the spot he had found. Even if it was literally the end of the world, he'd still be there. Always. She was his and he had to have her all to himself. There was no other way. The man wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it but he’ll find a way.

Y/n called the cops at last when she started suspecting someone's presence outside her apartment. Or window… she wasn't sure anymore. And the loud thunder outside didn't help her situation. Dialing the police the scared girl told them she was afraid someone was stalking her and needed an officer for security right now. i Telling them about the texts and deciding to leave the nasty parts out, she sighed in somewhat relief when they informed that they will send an officer on the way. The student grabbed a water from the fridge and sat on the couch, taking huge gulps while trying to calm down.

Finally.

It only took some minutes before there was a knock on the door. A nervous Y/n looked through the peep hole to only cry out in relief when she saw the uniform through it. "Oh! Thank God, officer! Thank you so much! You're here!" She was overjoyed. "Thank you! I- I am so scared!" A weak sob left her. "Please come in!"

The officer looked around the house, nodding. "I need you to calm down, miss. Tell me everything. We are here with you." His tone was professional. His name plate read 'Park Seonghwa'.

"I- I have a stalker! I don't know how!" Y/n quickly locked the door after he stepped in. "Not many people like me because I am a foreigner! I don't know if it's someone from college troubling me o- on purpose or what... B- But they've been sending me some really p- personal stuff..." She looked up at him innocently, scared.

The dark haired man hummed and nodded. "Do you maybe know the number? Have you noticed any suspicious activity around you before? Is there someone who has a motive to do this?"

"N- No... I got the first text today... I- I am really scared... I've got no one here... W- What do I do?" She told him all of it, hoping that the culprit he caught as soon as possible so she could go back to her life where she was a nobody. No one knew her and she was just another face among many others..

"Alright. We’ll keep a close eye on you. Within this period, try not to hang out too much, yeah? It is best to come directly home after college. And call us on this number if you suspect anything." He wrote a number on a paper and handed it to the shaky girl.

"Oh... Alright officer... thank you..." She saved the number gladly. And since he was supposed to stay with her to ensure the girl's safety, they sat down and Y/n awkwardly turned the TV on. Oh she never had a guy in her apartment before.

After getting used to the feeling of safety, Y/n got up after a while, finally having calmed down as she felt hungry. Cooking some dinner for two people, she went and handed the officer one of the two plates. "You've been here since evening... Please eat." She politely smiled, softly blushing from the embarrassment. The girl was too soft, continuously thanking him like it wasn't his job.

"You're a true hero..." She giggled and sat on the other couch, totally not thinking about how handsome he was. Before a sigh left her as she was reminded of the situation. "Officer... What will happen to my stalker when you catch him...?" He knew her darkest secrets. "I am really afraid... They mentioned some... things... very private... things..." The girl finally confessed.

“Mind telling me those things, miss? It will help us with his punishment. The more detail, the better” he placed his plate down, grabbing his pen and notepad.

"O- Officer... I uh..." Y/n gulped. "I- I can't..." She felt ashamed

“Why not? We should know so we can sentence him longer in the court. This is not okay. And you’re a foreigner. So it may also come under bullying.” His tone was soft and assuring as he looked at her, concerned.

It took the student a bit of persuasion before she spoke, hanging her head low and fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I... I was being naughty with myself... A- And they took p- pictures from my window... A- And taunted me about my... p- preferences, s- sir..." She put her own plate on the table now.

The man only hummed, nodding in an understanding manner. “That’s such a disgusting thing for him to do…” Before the man continued. “You shouldn’t do those nasty things while your windows are open either, Miss… You never know who will be watching.”

Y/n was blushing hard as her cheeks felt extremely hot. "I am sorry, s- sir... I won't do it again..." She couldn’t help but reply obediently. Her sub side sometimes got the best of her.

Besides… The officer was so handsome... It wasn’t helping her situation here.

A few hours later when it was bedtime and Y/n went to sleep in her room after taking care of her assignments and on the work she missed at school today, the officer got comfy on the couch. He was going to be here until tomorrow morning. Unless something happened. The girl was so tired she fell asleep easily, feeling protected and warm despite the terrible weather outside.

It was really late at night when Y/n woke up to a phone call.. "Hello?" It was the police, informing her that the officer that had been sent to her house had a bad ‘accident’ on the way and whether she still needed an officer.

The girl’s eyebrows at first in confusion before it sunk in and her blood ran cold as the phone fell from her shaking hands. At the same time she felt someone next to her. On the fucking bed. Pure terror filled her and she slowly turned to look at the relaxed figure dressed in the uniform. A shaky cry left her as she started trembling, literally mortified.

“Tsk... The stupid cops ruined the fun.” His voice was nowhere near that gentle and warm comforting voice now. Instead a low and deep hiss filled with nothing but mock.

San's eyebrows were frowned when he saw the cop car pulling up. "Oh no... you did not, Princess." The male smirked and shook his head slowly as he noted that it was only one officer. Moving through the shadows, he pulled out his blade from the pocket of his pants, expertly swirling it around in his hand and toying with it like he usually did. "Now, let’s see why do you need the officer, babygirl" his voice was barley a whisper as he made his way over to the car.

San was always so slick with his movements, catching the non-existent sounds of his figure were barely audible to the human ear. Before the officer could even realise there was someone around, the male had banged his head against one of the entrance walls of the low rent cheap apartment building, dragging him into the darkness with him before stealing his clothes and then dumping his body in the river along his car.

It didn't even take him long. He was fast, accurate in his calculations and confident in his abilities. "Now, to my Princess' rescue" chuckling to himself as he climbed the stairs, pinning the nameplate reading 'Park Seonghwa' on his breast pocket before ringing the bell to her apartment.

"The real fun is only starting" San sang as he pinned her down on the bed, holding her wrists tight above her head. "You have no idea how many nights I've watched you touch that bitchy cunt of yours." His hard bulge rubbed against her thigh.

An astonished Y/n was trembling, warm piss suddenly starting to leak out of her in pure terror as her heart threatened to burst out of the skin of her chest. Oh no! Is that what she thought this was?! It took her brain a few moments to understand it as the realisation sunk in like a ton of bricks. "Y- You... You're... You..." She could only whisper, eyes widened to the shape of saucers as an evil grin made its way on his features.

As San felt the bed getting warm, he started laughing at the girl condescendingly. "Look at you! Pissing yourself like a baby! How pathetic and disgusting! Did you really think anyone would help you, tsk?" He loved how she was shaking, the glow of her skin caused by the little droplets of sweat, her heartbeat that he could literally feel and the terror in her eyes.

Y/n started crying, the piss not stopping as it pooled inside her thighs. "Y- You're... You're the... stalker…" She whispered, still in disbelief as to how he managed that. "H- How did... How did you..." Oh God. Oh no.

The storm outside was so loud that screaming for help would just be in vain. It was so late no one would even be up...

"Baby, just like you said… I’m the stalker… I know everything about you…" His tone was sensual as he started kissing up the soft skin of her neck, moaning from how soft and delicate it felt. "Fuck! Your skin is even softer than i- it looks…" San felt himself twitch.

The girl was trembling as she slowly put it all together, staring at the ceiling as a feeling of despair and hopelessness filled her. "Y- You were p- pretending a- all this time! You're not the officer!" Adrenaline filled her as she kneed his cock, swiftly turning on her stomach and crawling off the bed before rushing out of the room. Nobody could hear the commotion. It was too loud outside.

"FUCK! YOU BITCH!" San yelled before laughing loudly. He loved this. Finally something enjoyable in his once lone and bland life. Holding his crotch, the male after her to catch the girl before she got away, catching her easily. "Where do you think you’re going?!" A smack landed on her face as punishment for what she did.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! Y- YOU CREEPY BASTARD!" Oh she would be getting a lot of beating for this! "H- HOW DARE YOU STALK ME A- AND THEN ENTER MY HOUSE! ILL R- REPORT YOU!" As she reached out to my table to hit him with something, her hand so conveniently ended up grabbing the razor and swung it back, going to hit him with it on the head.

San laughed tauntingly and caught her arm before she could hit him and shook his head, sighing. "Now now, isn’t this the razor you were holding when you played with that tiny little cunt of yours?" The shiny object dangled in his hand.

"P- PLEASE!" She remembered the text he'd sent her. "PLEASE! I- I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE! I BEG YOU!" Y/n had no idea what to say.

"Aww sweetie…" His words were soft. Almost. "Keep your begs for the time when I'll be pounding that dirty little pussy of yours." San held her hands above her head. "You like to be owned, huh? You like to serve your Master and show everyone how much of an obedient little whore you are?"

Y/n was crying harder now, afraid because she didn't know what was going to happen. "N- No! Please no! It's not true! P- Please just let me go! I- I don't want to!" Oh but she had a being kidnapped and raped fantasy. She loved the thought of someone dangerous, like San, terrifying her and fucking her, making her into his cockwhore. And he knew it. She wanted it all. The girl loved the fear and force. But all of it actually happening was something she'd never thought of. "Please! Let me go!" How could it? A whole fantasy becoming true?

"Oh please, my little slut! Let’s not fool ourselves here. I know you love the thrill of this, I know you LOVE getting used like a worthless little toy and I will give you what you want. You can try to resist me all you want but you’ll never get away from me. You're mine. I'll always catch you. You're mine and belong with me." Her eyes were on the razor as she kept thinking about the text he'd sent.

Y/n tried to reach out of his iron strong hold and snatch the razor from him. "Nu-uh…" San sang out as he held the object above him. "What if I shaved your head while I’m destroying that slutty pussy, huh? Would you like that you little whore?"

"No! NO! NO PLEASE!" Oh… But she felt wetness trickling down her leg. Oh no.

"My my!" The man chuckled darkly. "What’s this?" He swiped a finger up her bare thigh. "God, you’re such a pathetic whore, trying to fool yourself by saying no but I know you’re enjoying this. How stupid and dumb. Stupid slut!" His free hand smacked her face before grabbing her hands again.

"N- No! No! Please stop! This i- isn't what it looks like!" Before she somehow broke free again, this time biting his hand before she managed to reach the door, trying to unlock it but her hands were sweaty and cold, fingers literally frozen as she struggled to open the locks, cursing when they kept slipping against the metal.

San pushed Y/n up against the door with the most force he could come up with and pounced himself on her, letting his hard cock feel up her ass. "Don’t fight it anymore." And with that, he pulled her pj shorts down and turned her around before spreading her legs and pushed her up against the door, unclothing his cock and aligning his tip against her vagina before forcefully thrusting into her without warning before moaning loudly, throwing his head back. "God! Such a tight little nasty cunt!" San moaned and kissed along her neck, feeling like he'd go crazy from how delicate and nice her skin tasted.

The girl moaned loudly in pain, a warm stream of blood trickling down the man's monster cock. "O- Oh my God!" A sick part of her wondered if he would also shave her head and face... "I- IT BURNS!" A scream tumbled out of her lips.

"Oh… You were a virgin? Such a nasty little thing. Everyone thinks you’re an innocent little girl but in reality, you’re just a needy little bitch! Needy for cock! All the time!" He picked her up and carried the girl back to her room while still keeping his cock in her before plugging the razor in. "Come here!"

Oh yes. Oh no! Oh… She was having a battle with herself. Did she want this or did she not want this?! "PLEASE... S- SIR..." Please yes or please no...? She didn't even know what was happening anymore. This was fucking crazy. Her stalker who had done God knows what to the cop and had entered her house after watching her for who knew how long. The stalker that had a private photo of her and she didn't even know how many other materials. And now was on top of her like this...

"Please what, babydoll?" San pulled her in and kissed the soft trembling lips roughly, loving how good she tasted and felt.

Y/n cried against his lips, the man's huge cock still in her wet and tight walls. "I- I am scared! P- People will laugh!" Was that the only thing she cared about?

"So you want me to, but scared people will laugh?" San smirked while pushing his hips back and forth, moaning with each thrust. "Let them laugh, that will turn you on even more because you love getting humiliated. I know you too well, baby.”

Y/n had faced such rejection and hostility her whole life from different people she had trusted with her safety from time to time… this was driving her crazy. Her messy emotions got the best of her at the end of it. Her breaths were heavy. "Y- You're right... You know me so well..." She started speaking his language. "Y- You want me? O- Or you'll leave me too?" This was wrong; sick.

“No. I am staying by your side and you’re staying by me. I’ve wanted you for so long... you have no idea.” He groaned at how good she felt, biting back the whimpers threatening to fall out of his lips from the pleasure. “You have no idea just how many nights I have jerked off thinking it was your tiny little pussy, hugging my cock as you moaned and begged me for more, slut.”

The girl blushed, feeling like she was dreaming. This felt perfect… at least to her troubled mind. "You're crazy... You're scary... You made me piss myself out of pure…” She whispered slowly, a small smile making its way on her lips. “...P- Please own me... P- Please shave me... my head and face... make me look like a dumb slut... s- sir... Your dumb slut..." Her shaky hand turned the razor on for him, pussy suddenly clenching around him as she finally acknowledged the pleasure it was receiving, a soft moan escaping her.

“Mmm... that’s my good slut” San hummed and praised, taking the now on machine and placing it against her hairline before running it down the top of her head, both of them moaning, Y/n from the feeling and San from the sight of the sight of now small bristles between her locks as his hips pushed in and out even faster.

The man now shaved off another strip from the spot besides the previously shaved one, humming as he remembered something and took the machine to her eyebrows first and pressed it against the skin, feeling himself hit her g-spot as her eyes rolled to the top of her head, mouth falling open as the male erased the hair above her eyes.

"Yes, s- sir! Please make me your good slut! I- I love you! I'll never leave you! Please never leave me, Master!" She started crying out of joy, kissing his hands as her unstable emotions made her feel absolute joy. He had accepted her as she truly was. In her darkest form. “Please write funny things o- on my skinhead when you’re done. I am a dumb whore!” To her, there wasn’t a man more great than him.

“Fuck yes… That you are.” San grunted as he started to shear the rest of her long locks like one would to a sheep. “You are my dumb little slut who will do nothing but serve her Master from now on!” His free hand landed a smack on her head which was showing up more and more, nothing but thin stubble covering the skin.

"Yes I will, Master! Please! Please treat me like trash!" Y/n clenched around him, near to cumming. “Trash that was born to take your cock! You're so good to me! I wish you'd snuck in my house this morning and raped me right there! I wish you'd have shaved my head and forced me to go to college like that! It would have been a pleasure to be humiliated like that and by you!” She was literally crying out of pleasure

“Oh..” The man chuckled while panting. “I will force you to go like this baby, don’t worry.” He promised as he snapped his hips even faster, feeling himself getting close from the sight and all her filthy confessions. “And I will wake you up by fucking you every morning, making you a mess and sending you off to college like that.” It was done, the only hair on the girl’s head slight messy stubble that he’d remove with a hand razor later to reveal the skin underneath.

"Yes, please! Please always only force me and rape me! Please keep me bald! Keep me at your feet! Please feed me your piss and cum! I want to be your hand and footrest! I want to be an object for you to fuck! A bitch for you to breed! Your little animal! I JUST WANT TO BE YOURS! I WANT TO BE THE DIRT UNDER YOUR FEET!" She was sobbing as she started cumming hard, her tiny body spasming in pleasure while holding one of San's hands because it was her first time cumming from sex.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him from the intensity of it and kissed him while he played with her tits, pinching her nipples painfully as he kissed the girl back and let her ride out her high before pulling out. “On your knees!” San kept pumped himself until he came all over the girl’s pretty face and mouth. “That’s my good little cumdumpster.”

She smiled and started to kiss his cock and hands in respect, then his balls. Y/n really had truly submitted. "You're perfect, Master! Where have you been all my life?!" A pout made its way on her lips as she whined, hugging his leg and kissing it, not daring to go further up out of fear.

San was satisfied with her behavior. “I’m here now baby… And I am never leaving.” He kissed the younger one and slapped her ass lightly after helping her get up. “Lets get cleaned, doll.”

"Master, I wanna drink your piss." She shamelessly told him, not standing up, taking his cum off her face with her hand and greedily sucking at it. "A- And I wanna kiss your feet!" She was way too eager for this.

The man chuckled at her request. “You want to drink my piss? Then open up, my whore.” San held his cock over her mouth before putting pressure on his bladder, whimpering before the hot stream hit her lips.

Y/n was obediently on her knees drinking all of it after cringing at the taste a little, moaning happily. It was her first time drinking anyone's piss. She was in heaven. She finally had an owner! The girl made sure not one drop went to waste. "Thank you so much, Master! It is amazing!" The younger one stopped drinking and let his piss wet her face before starting to kiss his feet, fully in her subspace.

“You’re such an obedient little girl.” San praised, not being able to hold back the smile as he watched her, never having imagined her willingly being like this for him in such a short time period. But then again, he wasn’t surprised. “Good girl.” He cooed patting her head.

Y/n desperately kissed his hand and grabbed it, starting to cry. "M- Master... everyone leaves me... P- Please don't leave me... I- I'll die!" She almost promised him, nothing short of a maniac. Maybe she was even more twisted than San, in a way

“I’ll never leave you, you’re mine and everyone will know that.” Cupping her cheeks, he passionately kissed her, already making plans in his head about how he will modify all of her features as his perfect little pet.

The girl giggled, sucking at his lips greedily. "Master! Your piss was on my face!" She tried to get it off. "Give it back! Ish mine!" Huffing, she lapped at his piss like a needy little bitch.

San chuckled from her antics and swiped his fingers on the pretty face before holding them up against her lips. “Open up…” He let her suck on the piss covering his fingers. “Fuck... you’re so perfect for me.”

Holding his arm like a child, Y/n started sucking on his fingers greedily, smiling. "Thank you, Master!" Before she made his fingers hit the back of her throat, making herself gag and loving it all. "Mashter Mashter! Whatsh your name?" The girl questioned while deep throating his fingers.

“It’s San, baby.” The man replied with a smile, watching her choke on his fingers, her warm drool trickling down his long fingers.

"Shan! Ish sho pretty! I am Y/n!" Letting go of his hand, she hugged him which was returned with a chuckle.

“I know, babygirl.”

"M- Mashter... I- I dunno why b- but... I- I shaw a video too a- and I want you to s- shove my shaved hair u- up my assh and i- in my mouth... a- and take picturesh... Hehe I am sho naughty!" His eyebrows raised as she hid in his chest, a smirk forming on his lips.

San patted her messily shaved head. “Yes. You are, baby. You’re fucking naughty but okay. Daddy is here to help his little girl with all her little disgusting whore fantasies.”

"Y- You wanna?" Before she chirped again. "Mashter I want to be owned like an object a-nd like an animal! I wanna be like a p- piggy! A- And I want you to b- beat me and whip me e- everywhere a- and I wanna be bruished! A- And I want to be raped all the time!" She was too fucking sick and twisted but now that she wasn’t afraid of being judged, she was letting all that was locked deep down out.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll treat you like one, baby.” San said before chuckling to himself, still in disbelief of just how fucked up she really was.

"A- And I want you to fuck my bummie and not let me cum for monthsh! I wanna be forshed to wear chashtity! I want you to make me cry and beg but you don't give in and only torture me more!" She told him. "Pleashe alwaysh shlap me and my head!"

“Fuck... you’re so naughty baby… I love it.” San almost moaned from the sight before getting a chunk of her shaved hair and shoved it in her mouth before getting his phone and taking pics of her all stuffed and messily bald like that.

The twisted girl smiled in the pictures and eagerly nodded, turning her fat ass in front of him now. "Please put hair in assh too!" She struggled to speak, smiling and posing for all of the pictures.

San actually wanted to take a video of him shoving hair up her ass and so that was what he simply did, laughing. “Look at this disgusting little dumb cock whore! So slutty and needy! Loving to be humiliated and looked like a dumb fucktoy by her owner!” He spat on her.

"Yesh I am! Yesh I am!" Y/n spoke with difficulty, showing her stuffed face and head too, arching her back, imagining herself a beauty goddess of her own kind. "My lobely mashter shaved me! And ish gonna treat me like hish trash and look! I habe hair up my assh! And in my fashe! I've got no eyebrowsh!"

“My good little slave… All mine… So submissive” San praised, kicking her ass in the camera and chuckling at her squeak, watching her clench the hair up when her pucker winked. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?” Lifting her face, he spat on her forehead.

"I ammmm~" she whined, face red before starting to try to rub her cunt against the floor.

“Look at her trying to desperately rub her slutty cunts on the floor…” He filmed it all. Fuck. He loved seeing Y/n all dirty and submissive for him.

Drool was dripping down her chin and boobs. "Yesh Mashter! O- Onwy fow yoooouuu~" a needy whimper left her.

“Mmm... yes, only for me” San spoke and slapped her hard which the girl loved, getting even more wet and kissing his hands. "I- I... cum pleashe..." She whimpered again, loving the control she was in.

“No... get up.” San warned sternly. “You’re not allowed to cum, you’re never allowed to cum.”

"B- But... M- Mashter..." The girl pouted and whined, having forgotten that she was the one that told him that she wanted him to never let her cum and torture her like that.

“Are you talking back to your Master?” Raising an eyebrow, he gripped her chin before slapping her, making sure it was all being recorded so he could fuck her to it later.

Her pussy tingled. “N- No! No Mashtew owwiieee…” The hair in her ass and mouth tickled humiliatingly.

"That’s what I thought" San husked and threw the phone on the bed before pushing her on the carpet again. "Tell me when you’re close."

"M- Mashtewwww" Y/n started crying like a little baby, shaking and dropping the hair from her mouth because it was getting hard to breathe.

"Did I say you could drop the hair?!" The man growled darkly before pushing the hair back in. "Breathe through your nose, dumb slut!"

The girl let out a cry, trembling and sobbing as she nodded. He was rough. It was making her cry. But she also loved it and felt wet. "Yesh!" She loved being at Master's mercy.

"Good girl." He said pushing her down on the carpet more. "Rub yourself nice and hard slut." Y/n started rubbing herself as he ordered, feeling the carpet burn against her pussy but she couldn't help but love it, biting her bottom lip through her stuffed mouth. Oh… She loved it so much. The girl wanted it to bleed almost… Reaching out to hold his hand, the girl spoke. "You're sho perfect... I wish I'd m- met you when I wash l- little..."

"I wish that too baby, fuck... I’d fuck you every night while your parents were peacefully sleeping in the next room…"

"Y- You'd fuck me when I wash a little baby?" This was fucking revolting and twisted. They were both utterly sick. Y/n kept moaning loudly and getting wetter, rubbing harder and harder. "Y- Your fat cock i- in my toothlessh mouth... AHHH... I wouldn't need miwk... You'd have fed me your Mashtew milk fwom youw cock..."

"Fuck yes!" He growled as he felt himself getting hard. "Yes baby… I'd feed you my cum every day. You'd have grown up getting your nutrients from it, eh?"

"Daddy... Daddy... You'd be my Daddy? But inshtead of miwk you'd feed me youw cum evewyday? Ish the besht miwk!" She was very close and her eyes fluttered shut when he started playing with her tits and pinched her nipples before pulling at them. "Then I'd say I grew up drinking Mashtew's cock miwk! Hehehe!" The girl was too far gone.

"God, yes! You’re such a filthy and sick whore!" San knew she were close so he pulled her up. "No cumming!" It made the girl whine loudly and she fell on her face.

"Mashtewwwwww!" Before she curled in his feet, calming down a little when he didn't give in and ripped her pussy away from the carpet. "M- Mashtew... p- pleashe may I wemove haiw now...?" It was getting stuck to her mouth.

"Yes. You may, my little cum rag." The male wanted to use her mouth and feed her his cum so he allowed.

Y/n dropped it and quickly cleaned her tongue and inside of the cheeks with her tiny hands. "Bleg... hehe~" she curled in his waist, rubbing her tiny head against his chest.

"Good girl~" he patted her head before pushing her back in position. "Now use that mouth good baby…" San pushed his cock down her narrow throat, loving how tight and warm she was, making her gag from the rush of it in an instant.

The girl gagged but enjoyed it, loving it all. She quickly started sucking his cock, grazing her teeth against it and swirling her tongue. Y/n had watched all that porn for a reason. Kissing his balls, she sucked on them, whimpering from how his private hair tickled her nose.

"Fuck! look at you! Sucking on master’s cock like a starved bitch!" He slapped her again, feeling his shape against the skin of her cheeks. "You love it, don’t you?!"

"Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!" She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down his shaft, sucking and whining as San rubbed the top of his foot against her pussy, smacking her bald head before pushing his cock all the way down her throat, tightly clasping the back of her head.

The man groaned loudly as he twitched in the soft walls of her throat, washing her throat with his hot semen before cleaning her up and finally shaving her head fully until there was nothing but glossy skin left before they went to bed.

"I have shchool tomorrow... Mashter do you go to shchool?" Y/n yawned as she snuggled into San's built chest, whimpering and smiling whenever the realisation of who he was hit her.

She loved being owned.

"No I don't. I will be right here when you come back, my pretty slut." San said while kissing her softly like he hadn't unleashed his sadistic likes on her.

"Why don't you go to school?" She suddenly pouted. "Then how will Mashter have a career?! You'll be poow! I dun wan poow Mashtew!" Y/n huffed brattily. She didn't really care about that, only wanting to see his response because she loved to piss off her top.

"You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart." The male gritted out. "You’re stuck with me forever. If I am living on the streets, you’re living with me."

She opened her mouth to brat but the bell rang. Rushing to the door, Y/n opened it to reveal a police officer. "Oh... hi..." The officer smiled a bit at her and asked the girl if she still needed an officer and why she had hung up when they called. "O- Oh no officer... I was just being paranoid... It wasn't anyone..." Y/n's cheeks blushed because she could see the officer was staring at her shiny bald head and eyebrows. Feeling herself getting wet as humiliation made her blush, Y/n found herself wondering what it'd feel like if he smacked her on her head. The girl's nipples got hard.

But oh... she couldn't cum!

"Okay then, be careful, Miss." He tipped her hat, nodding a little before walking off.

Y/n felt so wet. "Have a good night, officer!" A giggle left her as the man disappeared, starting to rub herself against the door up and down, running her hand against her head.

"Now, what was that?!" San deeply spoke, pushing the girl against the door, making her head hit against it embarrassingly. "Did you forget who alone can make you wet?!" The male yelled before slapping her. "You sick little exhibition loving whore! Not even you can do what you like to yourself! You're all mine! Only I can do whatever I please to your whore body!"

"Yes... You... You sir!" Y/n closed her eyes and held her hands above her head, lowering it for him to slap. "Please hit my head... Ugh... fuck me up... I want my head to be bruised... Ugh fuck! I am so wet... Please beat me!"

"What a disgusting little trash!" The man laughed, slapping her head this time. "You love people making fun of you, huh?"

"Yes I do! Yes I do!" She whined. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make fun of me! Humiliate me! Hit me and bruise me! Make fun of me! Humiliate and degrade me! I want my whole college to laugh at me!" A loud cry left her.

"Let’s get you bruised up, then." San decided and started slapping the girl's tiny head and face until it was all red and sore. Y/n was crying by the time he was done, literally sobbing as she just fell on her knees and knocked out of exhaustion, her owner carrying her to the bed and then laying next to her knocked out form.

"Good night, my love." The male kissed her soft and red cheek before falling asleep too, holding her fragile body close to his, his slumber calm and satisfying today after so long.

Y/n stirred as she felt her pussy being invaded the next morning, making her stir as she felt lips upon her own and fingers pinching her nipples as her other boob was being groaped, her pussy expanding and sucking in a huge cock. San's huge cock. "M- Master~!" She whispered out when her eyes flew open and she was met with San's face. "W- What… s- so early?!"

"I promised you I'd wake you by fucking you every morning, didn't I, my slut?" He grinned and attacked her lips, eliciting an excited gigglish moan out of her as he started to fuck her fast and rough, pushing his balls in all the way.

“Y- Yes! Yes! F- Fuck!” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head from the realisation that he had been fucking her in her sleep before she woke up, feeling him twitch inside her. “M- Master! I- I… c- cum…” Y/n tried to speak, her back arching from the pleasure of him biting on her nipples before smacking her bald head softly.

“Little breeding whores don’t get to cum, baby. They just take cock and let Master use them like the cum rags that they are.” San’s cock slammed in and out of her pussy, his hand gripping her neck for support when she clenched around him. “Fuck! So tight!”

Tears welled up in her eyes as her face got red from how rough his thrusts were, how much her clit was burning for stimulation, how much her ovaries hurt to cum. “Look at this hairless little whore! Unable to even breathe without my permission let alone cum!” He spat in her mouth before turning her around and pushing up her ass, chuckling when she whined out.

“Sorry, slut. Little whores don’t get what they want around here and only please Master as they are supposed to.” Grabbing a sharpie, San started writing on her head whilst choking her with one hand, pounding her harder and harder up her ass. “Hurry up and please your Master well so we can go to an important place before you go to school.”

‘I am a bald little nasty slut. Please hit my head. I love it.’ Was written on the back of her head as the man laughed, deciding to not tell her what he’d done just yet, waiting for her to find out later when the people on campus would be warming that cueball up.

Y/n was whimpering as San waved at her and she shakily walked inside her college with a bald head, wearing nothing inside her skirt as she sneakily pushed the slipping ass plug back inside her cum filled ass. Lowering her bald head now that she was outside and people were staring at her new look, the girl gulped and felt herself squeezing her legs when some girl giggled at her.

Fuck… She couldn’t help but bite her lip, loving the humiliation as her cheeks felt hot.

Master had gotten her pussy, septum and nipples pierced before walking her to college. He was going to buy a special leash for that that was going to be passed through all her piercings to ensure she was in his control at all times.

Her train of thoughts was broken when a smack landed on her head by a guy passing by before he chuckled at her shocked expression. Before the girl could question him, she received a text by San. A picture message. Of what was written on the back of her head.

Widening her eyes, Y/n gasped and her hand automatically grazed against her head. No wonder the piercing lady had lightly smacked it before Master and she had laughed at the girl. “N- No… you didn’t…” She whispered in shock before one of her ‘friends’ smacked her head, making it jerk forwards.

“Cute look, Y/n.” Before she walked off to class, the people passing by gave her looks and talked about her.

Fuck… She squeezed her thighs in utter humiliation as the wind blew, making her desperately try to keep her skirt down as wetness trickled down her thigh. The girl wasn’t allowed to touch herself and not cumming was one of the rules now upon Master’s order and her foolish confession. She had a whole day to last before getting home and begging him to let her earn it.

Her ass stuffed, body owned, everyone silently chuckling at her humiliating look and getting smacks to the head like that wasn’t going to help.

“Oh, Master…” She whined to herself in despair. “What have you done?”

#san smut #ateez smut #choi san #choi san smut #dark kpop #dark fic #non con #ateez #ateez x you #ateez x reader #san x you #san x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine being in a hate love relationship with Peter Hale

Warning : attempt of rape

You were on Peter duty..Again. Since Peter Hale was the man that everybody feared, it had been decided that you would be the one keeping an eye on the overly fool-of-himself werewolf with the power of your mighty patience. Scott and Stiles stop in front of Derek's loft and he jogs out to meet you.

" Thanks Y/N. I owe you one !"

He says with a grateful smile and you smile back.

" Big time. But come on, you three go hunt whatever creature you have to hunt and I'll stay to take care of Mr Smarty-pants up there !"

You say enthusiastically and they all smile apologetically at you, knowing how the two of you were not exactly on friendly terms.

" Be careful, okay ? And tell him that if he touches you, I'll kick his ass !"

Stiles says confidently, which makes you laugh.

" Don't worry, Stiles. If there is any problem, I'll call you guys immediately and plus, I have a way to take care of moody children.."

You tell him with a mysterious smile and Stiles nods understandingly.

" I know..Just, stay safe."

And with that last warning, they are all out of here. As soon as they are out of your sight, your smile leaves your face and you sigh loudly before turning towards the building and whisper to yourself.

" Welp..Here we go.."

As soon as you enter, you smell something burning and see the stove on fire. You run towards it and take a glass from the cupboard to fill it with water in order to stop the fire. When you're done, you are panting because of the effort and look murderously at Peter that is sitting calmly on the couch, as if nothing had happened.

You glare at him while he doesn't even raise his eyes from his book.

" Let me guess..You couldn't smell the smoke ?"

You ask annoyed and only then does he look up at you with a small mischievous smile.

" Aren't you supposed to be the one keeping me out of harm's way ? You are here to keep me from doing anything stupid, not the other way around..I create chaos and you're here to stop me. Do your job and stop whining."

You grit your teeths in anger before sitting on the couch, as far away from Peter as possible. You can't believe the nerve of this man that was ready to burn the entire flat only to prove a point !

" I don't know why you're so eager to unnerve me. Does it entertain you ? Would it kill you to be nice and helpful from time to time ?"

You ask while taking a nearby book and starting reading yourself, not really interested in his answer that you knew would not be anything but upsetting.

" I'm the spark that lits your fire, sweetheart..Try to let go sometimes, you would actually enjoy it. Why don't you try to be less of a killjoy ?"

You raise an eyebrow at that before returning to your book and replying nonchalantly.

" Have you ever considered, even for only a moment, that I simply don't like you ?"

He fakes being offended by putting his hand above his heart and widening his eyes dramatically at you.

" Oh darling ! Me who thought that you were about to ask my hand in marriage ?! How disappointing ?!"

You snort.

" Hard pass."

He sighs in false disappointment before taking his coat and walking towards the exit.

" And where do you think you're going ?"

You ask with an eyebrow arked in curiosity.

" Out."

He answers simply before opening the door. You sigh before taking your coat and running after him.

" Didn't Derek warn you that I am allowed to use silver bullets if you disobey me ?"

He scoffs before shrugging, not bothering waiting for you.

" I'm going to get a beer, not kill a bunch of innocent virgins.."

He winks at you cheekily before stepping inside the bar that was the nearest to the apartment. You role your eyes at his comment before entering the bar after him.

You look around and are amazed to see that the place wasn't as bad as you had previously thought. It had good background music and not a lot of customers, besides a couple of drunk friends who were talking in whispers at their table. However, Peter isn't visible and you sigh again before walking towards the counter to ask the bartender if he had any idea of where your irresponsible dog had run off to. You sit down and attract the attention of the bartender by raising your hand. He walks towards you and leans in to listen to your order.

" A soda, please."

He arks an eyebrow at you, nearly amused, before turning around and getting out what you asked.

" Are you sure you don't want anything else ? Anything stronger ?"

He says while eyeing your bottle of soda warily, as if it was an insult to his establishment for you to order such a drink. You smile, tempted beyond reason, but then remember that you had a werewolf to find.

" Sorry. Can't. I'm on the job. By the way, have you seen a man ? Sarcastic. Arrogant. Energic. Tall. Very annoying. Awfully blond. Seen him anywhere ?"

He looks suspiciously at you before asking in a slightly worried and even threatening voice.

" You're a cop ?"

You can't help but laugh bitterly at the question before replying.

" You could say that. But I am only responsible of one criminal, and the only crime he committed is to not have messed up my night, yet.."

He smirks when he understands the irony in your tone and was about to answer when someone puts his hand on your shoulder. You turn around to see a very smug Peter with a huge grin.

" Oh ! Look at that ! The overly confident puppy is finally back ! What ? Got lost on the way ?"

You ask sarcastically and he only humphs in response before sitting next to you, the grin not leaving his face.

" Why ? Missed me ?"

You scoff before taking a sip of your drink.

" As much as a needle in my heel..But, if Derek was to find out that I've let you out of your cage, he would have my head.."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and makes you spill your drink a little over yourself.

" Aww..You do care ! My cold heart warms at the thought of the packs brat worrying about me !"

You groan in annoyance before biting his hand off. He hisses in pain before retrieving his hand and massaging it while glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. Just at that moment, the bartender comes back to get Peter's order and eyes Peter suspiciously before looking back at you with an inquisitive glance, asking discreetly if you needed an escape. You could have laughed if it wasn't so sad. Peter was such a nuisance that people were now wondering if he was the one bothering you, when in fact it was the opposite. However Peter, that had not missed the silent conversation, growls when the bartender gives him a warning side glance. But, not intimidated the nearest, Peter smirks a toothy grin at the bartender before showing his bitten hand.

" Careful. The brat bites. I've seen what it is capable of, first hand..literally. Don't worry, if you should be worried about anyone around here, it's everyone else besides her."

He cautioned and the bartenders eyes widen at the mark that would certainly have left a scar if he was a normal human being while you snicker in your corner. The bartender quickly runs towards his other customers at the far end of the bar, leaving you two in your sudden awkward solitude.

" Well..Isn't he a gentleman ? Thinking you need saving from me. Not even considering that I could be the abused one in this relationship ? How rude !"

You try to stifle a laugh. Unfortunately, he hears you and smirks proudly at his small victory.

" I'm not the psychopath that tried to murder a bunch of teenagers just because I wanted to become the big bad alpha.."

You taunt while giving him an amused side glance. He groans in annoyance as you make him remember his past and he gulps down his whiskey, an attempt to make him forget faster.

" Aren't you a delight ?! Playing unfair by spreading out the touchy subjects like that..No wonder Stiles rejected you. You would have chomped his lips off !"

You glare at him as he talks about Stiles before replying harshly.

" Says the man whose only date was Scott's mom, and that was to trap him ! You're so terrible that nobody could stand being with you more than 5 minutes without hating you ! I would tell you to go to hell, but it would be unfair on Satan !"

He chuckles at that last part and you take your drink in order to take a sip and calm your nerves, but grimace at the awful taste. You had asked for a soda, but it tasted more like salt with water..He cackles at your expression before whispering mockingly in your ear with false concern.

" Oh ! What ? Ain't sweet enough for you, sweetheart ?"

You only raise a very distinctive finger at him, warning him that one more word from him would result in extreme pain and look around the room to distract yourself from his presence..and from the fact that you were his entitled babysitter. Your eyes wander and finally settle on the nice bartender that winks at you when you meet his gaze. You blush slightly before smiling back at him. He wasn't bad-looking and everything would be better than bantering with the overly sarcastic and confident werewolf that couldn't seem to leave you be. You were about to stand up and walk towards the cute bartender when suddenly, a hand raises to lay on your shoulder and pin you down to your seat. You were about to complain and even yell at Peter when you hear him growl from deep withing him while he shoots a dirty glare at the poor young man. You frown in incomprehension and grit your teeths in annoyance, thinking it was one of his attention seeking gesture. You then take his hand and force him to let go of you to walk towards the exit. Here you go again, you couldn't even enjoy your night without having to take care of the sulky werewolf. You soon hear his footsteps behind you and when he is about to grab your arm, you turn around abruptly and glare at him with such seriousness that it freezes him on the spot.

" How about you and your insanity stay the heck away from me ?! I'm so tired of your bullshit, Peter ! Why can't you just leave me alone ?!"

At your harsh words, Peter's gaze hardens and he retracts his hand to only smirk at you and tilt his head a little bit to the side, as if he didn't understand the question.

" Oh darling..I would love to ! But, you see, it seems that me and my insanity are often required to solve your friend's little problems !"

Suddenly, unnerved beyond belief and having had more than enough of him, you feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes and yell at him, so loud that it surprises the werewolf himself.

" Leave me alone ! Why am I the only one who always has to handle you?! Why do you always ask Derek for me to keep you, even though you don't even like me ?! If I'm such a bother, why not just get rid of me ?!"

He doesn't seem to be able to find an answer and you don't even let him reply. You start running until you reach a small and dark alley. When you're sure you are far enough for the werewolf not to hear you cry, you crouch down and start sobbing. When you've spilt all of your frustration and sadness out, you wipe your face with your sleeve and stand up to get back home. However, when you are about to leave the alley-way, you see someone else blocking the exit. You first think that it's Peter, but the more you approach the individual, the more you have to admit that it doesn't look like Peter. You try to walk past him, but he brusquely grabs your arm and throws you to the ground. You want to get your phone out of your purse, but the man stomps on your hand and you scream in pain. The man takes you by the jaw and forces you to look up at him. His disgusting breath hitting your face, smelling of alcool and his evil smirk making you want to puke even more.

" Aren't ya a sweat ass ? Tell me, what does a young lady like yourself doing here by herself in the middle of the night, hmm ?"

You want to scream for help again, but another individual behind you puts his hand against your mouth to muffle your screams and you feel the familiar shape of a knife against your throat. When you know that there is nothing else you can do, you close your eyes and try to stop the new tears from leaving your eyes..You didn't want to cry for those men, they didn't deserve your tears..

" Now..You're going to be a good girl and let us take care of you, okay ?"

The one posted behind you whispers in your ear and you clench your jaw, your last thought going to Peter. You had been awful to him, even though you knew he wasn't a bad person..You had let out your frustration on him and you were now regretting it bitterly. You should have sticked to your job and stay with him. If you had, maybe you wouldn't be in your current situation. Reality hits you hard when you feel one of the men starting to open your blouse. When you thought that that was it, that you were going to be raped in that dirty alley-way and probably killed, you hear the hurried footsteps of someone running towards your location. You want to scream again, but the knife is raised once again against your throat.

" One peep and nobody will even find your body.."

You whimper and nod in understanding. The footsteps stop and you hold your breath.

" Sweetheart ? Are you there ?"

You hear the familiar voice of Peter and feel relieved to know that he is near. However, the man whispers instructions in your ear and you can't help but nod in agreement, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to slice your throat if you were to disobey.

" You're going to tell him to go away, that you don't want him to come any closer..I know what he is and the knife is made of silver and has been dipped in wolfsbane for a while..Don't play smart or you'll lose more than your life.."

He uncovers your mouth and you respond in a shaky voice.

" G..Go away, Peter..I don't want you near me ! I hate you !"

You bit to your inner cheek, wondering if he would insist or know that something is wrong. You know that even if he was to guess that something is wrong, you couldn't afford to lose him as well..However, you hear him take a step towards you and sniff the air. He suddenly growls animalistically and his eyes light up in the dark.

" I can smell the stench of two putrid little humans that shouldn't be touching what isn't theirs.."

You start panicking, knowing that he could die if he was to step any closer and yell in a last attempt to protect him.

" Don't, Peter ! They've got wolfsbane ! Run !"

One of the men muzzles you again, but Peter doesn't step back. He gets his claws out and snarls.

" Alright boys. Let's rumble."

The two men stand up and face Peter that doesn't seem scared. He doesn't keep his eyes off them while they circle him. The man with the knife tries to attack him first, but Peter grabs his arm and tears it off from the rest of his body. The man screams in agony, but Peter slashes his throat before turning towards the other man that is shaking with terror.

" What ?! You are brave enough to attack a defenseless woman, but not enough to fight a werewolf ?!"

He roars and the man suddenly gets out a gun that he points at Peter. Before he could react, the man shoots and the bullet goes through his abdomen. Peter falls on his knees and the man runs away, leaving you and him behind. You force yourself to get up and crouch down in front him to see that the wound is not closing itself.

" Wolfsbane bullet.."

He affirms what you already suspected and you have to take deep breathes in order not to panic. You know what to do, you had seen Derek do it a thousand time already. You need to cauterize the wound. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself before trying to carry him back home. When you finally enter the building after a few grunts and moans of pain from the both of you, you lay Peter down on the couch and look around for something hot enough to burn the poison. Suddenly, your eyes fall on a blowtorch and when Peter understands what you were thinking about, he looks pitifully up at you.

" I have a very bad tolerance to pain."

He warns you, a warning that sounds more like a desperate plea for you to reconsider your plan..But you know that you don't have much time and address him a silent apology with your eyes before taking the handle of your purse and make him bite down on it.

" This is gonna hurt. Bad. But, I'm going to try to be as fast as I can, okay ?"

His nostrils flare in fear for the pain to come, but he nods in agreement and you take a big shaky breath before using the blowtorch. As soon as the fire gets in contact with his skin, Peter visibly whitens, his eyes flash blue and you can see his claws digging in the soft material of the couch. You don't know what to do to attenuate the pain, so you do the first thing that comes to mind to distract him..You kiss him. His eyes widen perceptibly at your action, but he doesn't hesitate before burying his hands in your hair and reciprocating the kiss, even though the handle of your purse forms some kind of barrier between you and him. When you take a step back, he seems more relax and you glance down at his wound before switching off the blowtorch. You are relieved when you see the wound closing and smile widely at him. But, before you could truly process what was happening, Peter had gotten rid of your purse and had bounced on top of you to pin you to the floor and kiss you passionately again.

" Stiles doesn't deserve you..Nobody does..Nobody needs you like I do..Nobody can handle me the way you do..I don't want them to take you away from me..Stay with me..If you leave, I'll lose my fucking mind.."

He mutters between each breath he takes while kissing you and you blush vividly at his words. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and you can't help but smile up at him before kissing him back yourself and petting the top of his head appreciatively.

" You damn nut job, if you wanted me that bad, why didn't you tell me ? Instead of making me lose my mind.."

He grins before nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.

" Because I like when you get mad.."

You chuckle before returning his embrace.

" Bad pup.."

" Stiles lover"

You ark an eyebrow at the odd insult before replying teasing.

" Does that mean I won't be able to go back to his place and sleep on his couch ? Do I have to remind you that I live with him ?"

He tightens his hold on you and grumbles tiredly against your ribcage.

" Over my dead body. The only thing you will be allowed to sleep on from now on is me, got it ?"

You seem dumbfounded for a second and Peter picks on your uneasiness before laughing and looking up at you with a sly smile.

" Not what I meant, you pervert."

You blush a deep red and hit him on the back of the head playfully.

" Hey ! You're the one always insinuating things !"

He genuinely smiles at you before lowering his chin on your belly and tilting his head to look at you with fake innocence.

" I'm not the one who kissed me.."

You sigh, it was becoming a competition, like many things with him. You sit back up and make him fall at the same time.

" Yeah ?! Well, you were badly injured..and you reciprocated !"

You don't know why you wanted to defend yourself, you just know that you can't allow yourself to succomb for the man that had nearly killed all of your friends. Plus, you had just been attacked and were too weak to make any decisions. He seems to notice your worry and takes a step back immediately to get up and extend his hand towards you.

" I'm sorry. You helped me and I was being an idiot. You need to get some rest. Come on."

You look at his hand for a few seconds before slipping your hand in his. He yanks you upwards and proceeds to carry you back to your room where he lays you down on your bed. He leaves the room promptly afterwards, mumbling a small goodnight before walking out. When you're sure he is truly gone, you curl up into a ball and try to muffle your sobs. You couldn't sleep, every time you would close your eyes, their hands were there, touching you and making you feel as if you were weak..So weak..You whimper and cry as silently as you can until someone opens the door suddenly and blinding light surrounds the room. You turn around to see Peter standing there, his eyes glowing with such an intense color that it shocks you, you then notice the slight rise of his shoulders at each of his heavy breathing and finally, his lips curled and teeths grinding in rage.

" I should have killed them both..I should have never left you.."

You open your eyes wide at the realization, he had probably heard you and was reacting to your emotions. He approaches slowly and tenderly strokes your cheek, placing his forehead against yours.

" I'm so sorry, darling.."

You feel as if he's been crying too and step back. He seems to be hurt by your sudden distance, but you quickly indicate the spot next to you.

" Come on, I need a bed warmer."

His eyes light up like a happy puppy and he crawls next to you in order to cuddle you, making sure that you are comfortable every step of the way. You sigh in contempt before feeling sleep slowly taking over your tired body. Just before you fall asleep however, you mumble sleepily at Peter.

" You were right..I won't be able to sleep when you're not there anymore..You're too good of a bed warmer.."

You feel him chuckle behind you and smile as you realize that being best bud with Peter wouldn't be so bad..and maybe with time, a bit more.

The next day :

Derek finds the both of you on the sofa: you reading a book out loud, and Peter with his arms wrapped around you, listening attentively.

" So, I guess the babysitting went better than our stake out last night ?"

He asks, amused by your sudden friendliness towards each other. You look up at him with a small smile while Peter chuckles against your ear, the sound alone making you feel things you shouldn't be.

" Best of friends, aren't we, sweetheart ?"

Instead of answering his question, you try to change the subject.

" What happened to the stake out then ? I thought you were supposed to catch a couple of bounty hunters ?"

Derek shakes his head before shrugging his shoulders.

" I know, but when we got there, there was only one of them, and he was screaming that his friend had been murdered by another werewolf in town..I wonder if there are any others like us that we've not yet been in contact with ?"

At his explanation, you feel a lump forming in your throat, but when you were about to tell him what happened last night, Peter beats you to it.

" Funny, your description of the scene exactly matches what happened to me last night.."

Derek frowns before looking up at Peter with his jaw clenched.

" I thought I was pretty clear when I said stay put ?"

He glares at Peter, but then his eyes shift to you.

" And you, where were y..?"

But before he could finish his sentence, Peter cuts him again.

" Asleep. I waited for her to fall asleep before going out. Poor humans, can't manage a night without craving sleep.."

You look up at him with your mouth wide open, ready to deny everything he just said when you see him wink at you..He wasn't trying to make you look bad at your job, he was trying to save you the embarrassment. You close your mouth as fast as you had opened it and turn around towards Derek that was looking at you with an eyebrow raised, waiting for your confirmation. You nod and he sighs.

" Maybe it was a bad idea to leave you alone with him, you're still young and he's had plenty of experience when it comes to get what he wants..I'll ask Scott or Stiles next time."

You feel the lump in your throat slowly making its way to your stomach and your expression twists into one of pain and regret.

" No !"

To the surprise of everyone in the room, including yourself, you're the one who just shouted your disagreement. Derek frowns again before crossing his arms and waiting impatiently for an explanation while Peter only tightens his grip around you, a silent warning as to what you are about to say. You take a big breath before glancing up at Derek and saying in a calm and unfaltering voice.

" This is my job. I'm part of the pack. It's bad enough that I'm completely useless when it comes to working on the field, I can't let my only participation in all this go to someone else. I made a mistake, it won't happen again."

Derek seems to believe you, even though he shakes his head in hesitation.

" I don't know, Y/N..I was allowing this to continue since it seemed to work..But, Peter succeeded in complicating things, again."

He emphasizes on the last word while staring at Peter accusatively. Peter flashes an innocent grin at him before agreeing with you.

" I promise to behave from now on. Please, dad ? Can I please keep my plaything ? It gets lonely around here when you're all running around, chasing your own tails over and over.."

You elbow him as a warning, but Derek is already shooting daggers in his direction, on the verge of growling in annoyance. Fortunately, Derek succeeds in keeping his cool and only sighs in defeat before walking away.

" Fine. But, I warn you, one more mistake and I'll personally kick you out.."

" Can't do that, chief. It's my house !"

Peter answers with a big shit-eating grin, but Derek frowns at him before looking straight at you.

" I was talking to you, Y/N..I can't allow you to become a weakness, we've got already too many and Peter is the master of manipulation, dont fall for his tricks. It's a warning, let it be not a premonition."

And with those last words, he is gone. You both stay still for a moment until you decide to stand up and make yourself a cup of coffee. The words of Derek are swirling around in your mind and you glance at Peter when you think he's not looking..Were you really just another pawn in his mastermind plan to bring down the pack ? He seems to feel your stare and points it out.

" If I didn't know you the way I do, I'd say that you actually believe this idiot.."

" Why did you protect me ?"

You ask him abruptly, still not sure about what to make of last night's rescue. He seems to thinks about it for a while before answering you with such honesty that it surprises you.

" Because there was no reason for me to talk about it..Unlike what you all think of me, I'm not such a monster. I feel no satisfaction in a young girl's life being ruined by such macabre events. I care about you more than any of the other dumb teenagers of your group, even my own cousin. You're nice, kind, smart and you don't judge. You never told me that what I did was despicable or that I didn't deserve to live. You did what you had to do and tried the best you could to help. I agree that we have had our disagreements, but it was always playful and never really serious. Why would I ever want anything bad like this to happen to you when you're the only person who ever believed that I could become an ally ? Tell me, how many people do you think ever read to me or felt safe in my arms ? Not even my own family ever believed I could change..So, yes. I protected you, because you would have done the same thing for me. Your strength remains in your humanity, Y/N. Stiles may be the voice of reason, but you're the voice of mercy.."

You are awestruck by the words that seem to be tumbling out of his lips and surround you like the warmest of blankets. You would be happy to listen to him all day. You genuinely smile at him and, before you could stop yourself, you kiss him. He relaxes under your touch and wraps his arms around you to close the gap between the both of you. He finally breaks the kiss and laughs softly before adding.

" You also have very nice lips.."

You playfully punch his torso before laying down on top of him, finding the rhythm of his heartbeat oddly soothing.

" You're a jerk..But you're still a good person.."

You whisper while closing your eyes and you can hear him snicker above you.

" Congratulations, you just qualified me with two opposites. Jerk and good normally don't go together."

You don't answer, already snoring softly on his torso. He smiles sweetly at the sight before kissing the top of your head.

" Sweet dreams, darling.."

#peter hale #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #derek hale #peter hale x reader

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

“The Devil all the time”

Hunter!Tom x Demon!Reader

Supernatural AU

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

"Break the silence, damn the dark

Damn the light..."

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Forget everything you thought you knew, you had every reason to be afraid of the dark when you were a kid. In this world where monsters are real, the Holland brothers hunt them so normal people can continue to live in the bliss of ignorance.

But when something goes terribly wrong, Tom will do anything to save his brother's life, including selling his soul to the devil. Well... Not exactly the devil, but close enough.

You don't need to watch Supernatural to read this AU

MY MASTERLIST

He knew it was you, even before turning. He knew it as soon as he heard your deceptively delicate footsteps break the supernatural silence that had fallen over the forest the moment he had buried the little metal box in the old crossroad. Tom didn't want to think about what it meant, having such an intimate knowledge of you to be able to recognize you by the cadence of your steps, being so in sync with you that he could tell whenever you were in the vicinity.

So he used his favorite deflection technique whenever it came to you.

"Y/n? What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? Sorry, did I say nice girl? I meant evil skank"

The insult didn't phase you. None ever did. It was hard to take them seriously when you knew how many nights he fell asleep with your name on his lips, after pathetically releasing himself into his own hand, or fucking his boring girl-next-door girlfriend, chasing orgasm over unsatisfactory orgasm that would never completely satiate him. Because it wasn't your face the one contorted in pleasure looking up at him from the mattress.

"You called. I came" You batted your lashes, sweetly. "I always come when you call…"

He gulped, the innuendo not lost to his ears. It threw him off guard, like it always did.

"I would have thought this would be… beneath you" Tom cleared his throat, looking away, trying to regain his footing, "collecting a deal, like a vulgar crossroad demon"

There was nothing vulgar about the soul of a Holland. But he didn't need to know that, so you just shrugged,

"Queen Rowena has an interest in you boys. She finds you entertaining. I'm just being a good subdit"

He scoffed,

"Funny. I would have never peg you for a sub"

You took a step closer to him.

"You don't have what it takes to make me submit, Holland" Your hot breath fanned over his skin, setting his skin on fire. Making his blood boil. You had a way of doing that, of bringing out the worst in him. Of making him lose control. And you thoroughly enjoyed it, poking at the bear until the claws came out, laughing at the carnage.

Another step, and you could physically feel it: The hate, radiating from his every pore, his mind screaming with it. He hated you. He hated your kind. He hated your beauty. He hated the pretty white dress you were wearing, so pure and innocent, glowing like a beacon in the dark. A lure, guiding uncountable men before him into perdition.

But above all else, he hated that, even then, he couldn't help but to want you. Fervently. Desperately. Irreversibly.

"I came here to make a deal" He croaked, cursing himself internally for showing weakness.

"Let's negotiate, then," you replied, stepping away, mercifully letting him breath.

"My brother-"

"I know" You interrupted, sounding bored already, "Reapers everywhere are going berserk. Who, oh who, will get to reap the soul of a Holland?"

The wind picked up, making your long dress billow around your legs. You twirled a little, admiring the way it moved. Tom's eyes were glued to you, almost hypnotized. Partly because you were too dangerous to be left unsupervised even for a second, partly because you looked beautiful like that. It had never been more obvious to him that you were an unearthly creature, you didn't belong to this world. There, surrounded by greenery, barefoot, swaying softly under the twilight light, he wondered how could anybody ever mistake you for a human.

"Of course" your apathetic voice took him out of his revery, "being reapers, watching them go wild is rather boring. I swear they are the most uninteresting beings of all creation"

That made him see red.

"Boring? Boring?!" He knew his voice was rising with every word but he just couldn't help it, "They're waiting for my little brother to die!!"

"Which could happen any minute now," You reminded him, all playfulness gone from your demeanor, "so if you wanna strike a deal, I suggest you start making me an offer worth my time"

He was taken aback by that.

"I- My soul in exchange of a wish, and you collect it in ten years" He tried and failed not to think about what that implied: vicious, invisible hounds of hell tearing apart his body and dragging his soul to hell, "Isn't that the usual deal?"

You scoffed,

"After all the things you did in your life, what makes you think your soul doesn't belong in hell already? And if your brother dies, that is one less Holland on earth to worry about. You and your brothers have managed to become a big pain in the ass for us…"

He pulled out a knife, a strange one, with runes in the blade. You arched a brow in recognition

"The Winchesters' knife. Are you threatening me, little hunter?"

Your lack of reaction was another blow. He had hoped you'd be more impressed than that. Nonetheless he turned it in his hands, offering you the handle.

"I'm throwing it into the deal"

To his surprise, you didn't immediately take it from his hands, choosing instead to pace the clearing, deep in thought.

The truth was you couldn't care less about the knife, it wasn't more dangerous to you than a toothpick. And while it was true it could certainly damage your queen, she had a far better weapon to protect herself: You.

But it did confirm your suspicions about the Hollands having access to the old Winchester arsenal, which meant they had access to something way more dangerous than that rustic weapon made of steel and bone. A book, made of ancient dark magic and human skin, written in blood. A book that was precious to queen Rowena and by extension to you: the Book of the Damned.

The Hollands were a family of extremely talented, yes, but old fashioned hunters. The stab first, ask questions later kind. They probably had no idea what they had in their hands… but you did.

"Very well then," you finally declared, "this is my offer: Your soul and that knife in exchange for sweet Harry's life and one year for you to get all your businesses in order"

Tom felt all the blood drain from his face. One year. Just 365 more days to live, before an eternity of torture in hell.

"O-one year?" He breathed.

"One year" You confirmed, "More than enough time to go see the Grand Canyon, eat the world's spiciest burger or whatever you have on your bucket list"

The disdain in your words only made him hate you harder.

"Not nearly enough to live" He replied through clenched teeth. You rolled your eyes,

"You're a hunter. You lead short, violent existences, charging head first towards what most humans run away from. Things faster, stronger, more powerful than you, surviving each encounter out of sheer luck. Killing one monster after another, until that luck runs out. Because the monsters? Unlike you who rely on it everyday, they just need. One. Single. Lucky. Strike." You punctuated every word with one step in his direction, until you were face to face again. Until, for the first time ever, you could see the fear, the desperating hopelessness he kept hidden inside, reflected on the warm coffee of his eyes. You knew a lesser man would be already crying and begging for Mercy.

Tom wasn't like other men though, that was the whole point.

"Or…" You soften your tone and your stance, letting your fingers ghost over the back of his hand, his whole skin erupting in goosebumps. That was the very first time you touched him. Ever.

And it was as if nobody had ever touched him before, the light caress enough to set every nerve ending, every single one of his cells, alight.

He was so distracted by the sensation and his body's response to it, he almost didn't hear your next words over the sound of his own pounding heart.

"Or you could keep your little pocket knife, and even have your ten years if…"

"If?" He struggled to focus.

"You let me borrow a book"

His brows furrowed in confusion,

"A book? What book?"

"Any book of my liking, for as long as I want" You shrugged it off, "Do we have a deal?"

There was a catch there, it was obvious. He knew he was going to regret it but, what choice did he have?

"Deal"

Your smile was blinding, luminous. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it angelical. Now, that was one ridiculous thought.

"What now? We seal it with a kiss?" His eyes fell to your lips, so soft looking and inviting. He wasn't eager to put his mouth on a filthy demon and doom himself. He wasn't.

You chuckled, but there was no humor behind it.

"Oh no, darling. This is big. This is special" You're special, "A simple kiss just won't cut it…"

No. You couldn't mean… could you? Was there no limits to your hatred for him? Did you really want him so defeated, so humiliated?

"What do you want?" He spat through gritted teeth.

"The same thing you want" You put your hands on his chest, rising to your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "The same thing you have wanted ever since we first met . The thing that's obsessing you..."

"I don't know what you're talking about"

You smirked,

"You can lie to your family, you can even lie to yourself, little hunter... But you can't lie to me."

He couldn't hide, you could see every fantasy, hear every single one of his thoughts of you on repeat, like a prayer in your direction. Just like he couldn't hide the way his skin was burning now for you, the way his blood rushed south, the way all logical thought left his brain, his iron grip on his emotions finally breaking as he snapped.

Lightning fast, in just a blink, he twirled you around, your back hitting the rough bark of a tree, as he towered over you, demon blade to your throat, every inch of his body pressed against yours. His eyes were ablazed with rage, and passion, as he surged forward, striking you with his best hit.

He kissed you.

Lips vicious against yours, teeth biting and scraping only to soothe the offense seconds later with his tongue, until he was dizzy, light headed with the lack of oxygen and the taste of you. The hand not holding the knife to your neck fell to your breast, squeezing the pliant flesh with enough force to cause pain on a human woman, merely making you moan. He swallowed the sound, letting his fingers trace your waist, your hips, clawing at your dress until he finally, finally, felt skin under his fingertips.

It was better than anything his mind had conjured in his feverish fantasies in the dead of the night. The skin of your inner thighs velvety soft, as they parted under his touch, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as his fingers found your naked core. You weren't wearing any underwear, probably never had. The realization that, in all your past encounters and fights you had been standing there, just feet away from him with nothing under that damn dress hit him like a truck, making his head swim.

He searched between your folds, and suddenly his fingers were inside you. He was inside you, a part of him was buried deep within you, within your silky heat, claiming you as his, if only for the night.

And you were so wet for him, and only getting wetter as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring them, opening you up until he was able to slip a third one in, fucking you with his hand in earnest. You were sobbing, clutching at his biceps, head thrown back in pleasure. He took advantage of that to suck bruises on your neck, only to see them fade before his eyes. Your skin tasted clean, smelled like wild flowers and rain. Ozone. Lightning. Like those coursing through his veins with every cry, every delicious gasp you made.

He found the perfect spot inside you, the one that sent sparks through your nerves with every stroke of his calloused fingers.

"This what you wanted?" To make him lose it? Lose his mind, himself, in you? "For me to make you come on just my fingers, like the little slut you are?"

The floor disappeared from under his feet as you sent him flying away from you, a searing pain exploding at the back of his head as he landed, sprawled at the feet of an old, dying oak. With blurry eyes, he saw you stalk towards him, all power and cold, controlled fury.

"Let's get one thing straight, Holland. I'm not one of your sluts" You sneered, "and I'm definitely not your basic bitch of a girlfriend. So you better start showing me a little respect, are we clear?"

He gulped, sitting up. He had to be seriously fucked up in the head, for his cock to be twitching inside his pants at your threatening tone.

"Crystal"

"Good" You declared, coming to a stop right in front of him, standing between his parted legs, "Now, let's put that mouth of yours to a better use"

He knew that image was going to be forever tattooed on his brain: You standing in front of him, holding the skirt of your dress up, waiting for him to put his mouth on you. Tom took a moment to admire you, before delving in, flattening his tongue over your slit, before drawing tight, precise circles on your clit with the tip. God, you tasted so divine it was messing with his head; something as dark and corrupted and twisted as you, feeling so exquisite, so perfect, so heavenly to his every sense.

He helped you hook your knee over his shoulder, his other arm snaking around your leg, pulling you even closer. You could feel his smirk against your cunt the moment he realized your legs were shaking, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, not with his wicked talented mouth devouring you like a last meal, rocking your whole world, making you see stars behind your closed eyelids.

You always knew that man would make the stars fall.

Tom kept on, penetrating you with his tongue as far as it would go, his whole face moving against you. The slight burn of his scruff felt delicious against your delicate labia, as he used his fingers to open you up like a flower, separating your petals to get to the delectable nectar inside. You were close, he could feel it, the obscene sounds you were making, the waves of sweetness falling on his lips feeding his ego, filling him up with pride. By the time the night was over, you'd be unable to forget him. He would make sure of that. He would make you come, over and over, until the only thoughts left in your brain were of him, the only word your lips knew how to speak was his name. He would mark you, like a bloodstain, like you had done to him.

Almost there, he almost had you. Your muscles were locking, your walls starting to tremble, when a loud crack resonated over his head, and you stepped away on unstable legs, breathing hard. You didn't even need to breathe, it was just his effect on you. He made you feel human. And it was both exhilarating, and terrifying.

You took another step back, but he took hold of your ankle, tugging hard enough to make you fall on his lap, white skirt covering the place where his hands were fumbling with his zip, with his boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

"Fuck!" He cursed, as you sank on his rock hard cock, not giving him any time to get used to the feeling of you around him, before starting to move.

"How does it feel" You taunted, "fucking a monster? Is it as good as you dreamed of?"

Better. You felt even better. Tom hadn't thought it was possible, but he loathed you even more for it.

"Shut up" He growled.

You leaned forwards, breath hot against his ear,

"Cause you feel amazing, Tom. Your cock feels like heaven"

His hand tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he crashed his mouth to yours again, the other fumbling for the buttons at the back of your dress, tugging and pulling, tearing at the fabric, in his haste to feel more. More of your skin against his, more of the body that had been his hyper fixation for far too long.

You sat up, still grinding on his cock, letting the tattered dress fall to your waist, watching in satisfaction as his eyes went wide, zeroing on the way your breasts bounced in sync with your hips.

Reaching up, for a glorious second Tom could feel one perfect pebbled nipple against his palm, the roundness, the weight of your soft flesh on his fingers; before an invisible force pinned his hands to his sides.

You tsked.

"Still don't get it, do you little hunter? This?" You let yourself fall all the way down his thick cock, hard, tearing twin moans from his mouth and yours, "This isn't about you. This is about me."

Leaning back, you braced yourself on his strong thighs, changing the angle, changing your movements to a slower rocking against his pelvis. The friction against your clit was perfect, the feeling of his big, throbbing dick so deep inside you, stretching you like no one before, sending electrical pulses through your spine. It was decadent. It was ecstasy.

It was torture. Underneath you, Tom was sobbing, eyes bright with unshed tears, fighting in vain against his bonds. He needed it faster, harder, anything to help tilt him over the edge you were keeping him on, your sweet cunt too tight, too good around him to allow his cock to soften, your rhythm too leisured to let the tensed, strained coil inside him to snap. You were uncaring, using him remorselessly to get yourself off, your little moans getting higher in pitch the closer you came to your climax. Tom felt himself getting higher just by looking at your beautiful pleasure ridden face. You cried out, and suddenly it was happening, you were coming, pulsating around his cock, falling apart on top of him.

And the ground beneath him quaked. The sky above his head bled, the blue twilight torn open by lightning, and thunder, despite the fact that there wasn't a single cloud marring its diaphaneity. You fell forwards, hand braced on the tree, next to his face, ridding the aftershocks of your orgasm until the end.

"No!" Tom cried when, after a few seconds of catching your breath, you dismounted him, letting his dick slip out of you.

You arched a brow,

"Something you want, Tommy?"

He locked his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. You smiled, amused, knuckles stroking his still iron hard cock.

"Do you need more, little hunter?" You enveloped him in your hand, moving it up and down his member, watching the head disappear under his foreskin, "Do you need to come?"

He banged the back of his head against the bark.

"Yes!" He finally admitted, "So badly…"

"Then beg" You commanded, stilling your hand. He snapped open the eyes he hadn't realized he had closed. Oh, if looks could kill…

"Never" He hissed, livid.

"Very well, then" You picked up your pace, pumping him fast, your grip almost too rough. He gasped for air, feeling the telltale tightening of his balls, the coil inside just about to break under the tension. But you must have felt it too, cause your hand let go of him altogether. Too late, he understood what you were doing.

One beat. And then another, and he was coming all over his t-shirt, orgasm completely ruined.

He cursed, tears escaping through the corner of his eyes, fingers digging into the moist ground under his hands. You chuckled, cruelly, standing up and stepping out of your shredded dress. He could have ganked you with the demon blade in that moment, he really could have, except his hands were still pinned by an invisible force at his sides.

"Let me go, you bitch," Tom growled, tossing, fighting against his restraints to no avail, "aren't you done?!"

"Not quite." You smiled, mockingly sweet, "Just one more thing before I leave. Don't worry, it will only hurt for a minute…"

He renewed his efforts to escape, as you bended over, reaching for his chest, white hot pain burning through his ribs. He almost cried out, but what he saw stole the voice from his throat, turned his blood into ice inside his veins, leaving him shaking, jaw slack and mouth open in a soundless scream:

You, naked and gorgeous and terrible. Transfixed, eyes glowing with a supernatural indigo light, the shadow of two massive, bended, broken wings projected on the trees behind you.

Not a demon, he thought. You're not a demon.

You smiled, and it was terrifying.

"No. I'm the thing demons have nightmares about" You replied out loud to the words he had only said in his mind, "And now, little hunter, you belong to me. Mind, body and soul"

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #the devil all the time #supernatural #supernatural au #supernatural smut #demons #angels #demon!reader #hunter!tom holland

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years

Text

Frozen Within the Night Wind: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 6

None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

"Baby, you don't wanna leave You'd be sorry, 'cause honestly I can make you feel better, any day Look at what you've done for me, I called it how I see You belong with me."

Stick by: BANKS

For the next few weeks Me, the Cullens, and the wolves have been keeping watch on Bella and Charlie. It wasn't an easy alliance and anytime Sam or Leah went onto patrol they wouldn't even acknowledge me. So I often patrolled with Emmett and Jasper to make things less tense. Tonight however I had no choice but to patrol with one of the wolves... a plus side about tonight though, Bella wouldn't be here... she was out with Jacob right now. I had made an excuse that I was staying with the Cullens for the night so dad wouldn't be too suspicious.

"Are you sure Darlin, I can stay behind on this hunt to be with you."

"I'll be fine...I'm sure Sam won't do anything to me. Besides, I've already hunted for the week...you haven't hunted these past two trips because of me...Go I promise I'll be fine."

He sighed before wrapping his arms around me and laying his head on my shoulder. It didn't last long however since we heard rustling behind us. We both turned to see Sam in his wolf form standing there.

"I'll see you later love."

"Bye love."

When Jasper left Sam stood next to me, he didn't look at me at all. We sat in silence for an hour when I finally decided to say something.

"Look...I know I'm probably just going to end up talking to the air tonight but...I need to get some facts straight."

Sam just huffed in his place.

"None of the Cullens turned me...if they would've gotten to me quick enough I wouldn't even be patrolling my dad and Bella right now."

Sam seemed to be staring at me out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know who he is...but someone working with Victoria turned me...If I am being completely honest I think it's the intruder we're looking for right now."

Sam huffed again.

"And I know you are absolutely disgusted with what I am now but... I really miss you, and Emily... Seth and Leah too. But I know I can't go down there anymore and Leah completely hates my guts but I just had to get off my chest." I looked away from Sam, feeling completely embarrassed that I spouted all of that out. Then suddenly, I felt some fuzzy nuzzle into my hand. I smiled and pet him, it seems he's warming up to me again.

"Thanks, Sam..."

Our heads both shot up as we heard movement and for a split second I saw firey red curls go across the way.

"Let's go Sam!" I said and started running toward her, he followed me a second afterward. She noticed us running toward her and took off back into the woods.

"Sam go back onto your territory so she can't jump back without being caught."

He followed my command surprisingly.

"I thought you were great at self-preservation Curly, but to come right to her house, right near the Cullens isn't very smart now is it?"

She didn't acknowledge me. Suddenly... something popped up in my head... I looked at Sam and winked, I mouthed to him that I had an idea.

Victoria stopped in her tracks and stuttered.

"James?"

I stopped running and crept up behind her, not wanting to let the hallucination go to waste. Carlisle was right... this second power would be useful to me. The image of James just looked at her with deadly eyes.

"James... how are you... here?"

"What are you doing with him?" "James," asked.

"It's not like that...It just so I could avenge you." Victoria stated.

"You disgust me..."

I was just about to get behind her and grab her neck when she snapped out of it and flipped me over and sent me into a tree. She took off again, leaving us in the dust. Sam jumped back over to me and nudged me with his head.

"I'm okay Sam... we need to go back to the house in case someone else shows up again. When we made it back to the house I saw Jasper and Rosalie standing in our spot looking confused.

"What happened? Why did you leave?" Jasper asked.

"We saw Victoria and chased after her...we couldn't catch her."

"Damn it," Jasper grumbled.

"Were you close to getting her?" Rosalie asked.

"I was inches away from grabbing her by the neck... I guess the hallucination I made wore off..."

"Can you tell where she's going now?" Rosalie questioned.

"I can try... the tracking is still a little wonky sometimes." I got into that trance again attempting to track her,

"It looks like she's going to Oregon..."

"Oregon what is she going to do in Oregon?" Jasper inquired.

"I can't tell..."

Before anyone could say anything else Jacob's car pulled up, Edwards was not too far behind.

"Uh oh... this can't be good," I said, I then began to jog toward the situation, it soon turned into an argument.

"IF YOU EVER TOUCH HER AGAINST HER WILL AGAIN!" Edward roared.

"Guys don't do this here!" Bella pleaded.

"She doesn't know what she wants."

"Hey what the hell happened?" I asked.

"Jacob kissed me..." Is all she said.

"Wait for her to say the words," Edward said.

"What... Edward do you want her to be in a relationship with him? You're losing the argument here bud. bring it back!" I thought to myself.

"Fine, and she will."

"Jacob just go okay?"

"Hey, hey hey... break it up you two," Dad said, he must've heard the commotion.

"Okay... what's going on?"

"I kissed Bella... and she broke her hand, punching my face... total misunderstanding."

I couldn't help but bust out in laughter... this whole situation was something you would find in a crappy soap opera they play at 4 in the morning when no one is awake to see them.

"What are you doing back here Fleur?" Dad asked.

I came up with a lie quickly.

"Oh I forgot some toiletries... and I came back down to get them." luckily my car was still here.

When I pretended to grab my items I came back outside, Bella and Edward were gone. I kissed my dad on the cheek and wished him a goodnight and drove back down to the Cullen's house. When I came in Carlisle was wrapping up Bella's hand, everyone else was sitting in the room with them. I sat by Rosalie and Jasper, just observing the situation, Emmett walked in with a smirk on his face.

"Geez did you try and walk and chew gum at the same time Bella?"

"No, I punched a werewolf in the face."

"Badass...you're going to be a tough little newborn."

Rosalie and I looked up, now focused on the conversation.

"Tough enough to take you on." She said with a smirk.

Rosalie slammed down the paper she was reading and left the room. Bella just rolled her eyes and sighed. I looked at Jasper and he nodded, I slinked out of the room without anyone noticing or so I thought.

"Hey, Rose."

"I can't stand your sister."

"I know the feeling."

"But at the same time... I envy her too."

I pulled her in for a hug, trying to comfort her.

I heard the slight sound of a door opening and closing again.

"What do you want Bella?" I asked.

"You can go and blather about the joys of being a newborn with someone else." Rosalie added.

"Okay... Rosalie, I don't know what I did... to make you hate me so much."

"How many times do I have to say it... If you treat someone I am really close to like dirt... then I'm going to hate your guts."

Bella scoffed.

"I envy you also Bella."

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"It's not...Bella." I jumped in

"How is it not?"

"You had a choice... we didn't... none of us do and you're choosing wrong, I don't care how miserable your human life is," Rosalie explained.

"My life is not miserable. It’s not perfect, nobody’s life is perfect." Bella stated.

"Mine was. Absolutely perfect. There were things I still wanted. To be married with a nice house and a husband who kissed me when he came home. A family of my own... Royce King was the most eligible bachelor in town, I barely knew him. But I was young, I was in love with the idea of love. On the last night of my life, I left a friend’s house late visiting her newborn son, I wasn’t far from home… They left me in the street thinking I was dead, believe me I wanted to be. Carlisle then found me, he smelled all the blood, but he thought he was helping me."

"I'm... so sorry." I said... I had never heard how she got changed until now.

"That's terrible," Bella added.

"I got my revenge on them, one at a time. I saved Royce for last so he would know I was coming. I was a little theatrical back then."

"That's not theatrical... that's bad ass," I said, Rosalie cracked a smile.

"Things got better after I met Emmett, but we’ll always be this, frozen, never moving forward. That’s what I miss the most, possibilities, sitting on a front porch somewhere, Emmett grey-haired by my side surrounded by our grandchildren, their laughter."

"I understand that’s what you want. There’s nothing I’m ever gonna want more than Edward." Bella argued.

"You’re wrong again, after you’ve been changed there’s one thing you’ll want more. One thing you’ll kill for…blood." Rosalie finished, she then walked out of the room without saying another word.

#jasper hale x reader #rosalie hale #jasper hale #jasper hale x oc #jasper cullen #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #alice cullen #edward cullen #jasper whitlock x oc #jasper whitlock #bella swan #twilight saga #twilight

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writteninkat · 3 years

Text

ii - rubies?!

word count - 1,903

warnings - mention of scars

"he's so tall and handsome as hell. he's so bad but he does it so well."

index

As you waited for April to come around, you spent your remaining days working out and training your quirk on your own. You didn't want to look for your father nor did you want to bump into him- the only time you wanted to see him was during UA's sports festival where you know he'll be watching so you can rub it in his face how good your life is without him.

As you work out in your apartment building's gym, you can't keep the blond out of your head. Was he doing alright? Should you have asked for his phone number at least? Where did he study? Was he even from this area?

Your mind races and wanders around thoughts about the blond, causing you to trip on your own feet on the treadmill. Before your hands come in contact with the running deck, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist, saving you from the fall but not from the embarrassment.

You take a few moments to stop and think about what just happened, allowing the whole thing to just sink in. I almost tripped because I was thinking about some guy. Stupid mistake.

Your savior puts you down beside the treadmill, hands immediately letting go of your waist. "You okay?" Despite having such buffed-up arms, he had such a sweet voice. You look to your right, checking to see the face of your knight in shining armor.

"My name's Izuku Midoriya." He smiles widely, extending his hand towards you. You take it, smiling back. "Y/n L/n, and yeah, I'm alright. Thanks for saving me, I could have attended my first day in UA with a bandage on my forehead." You chuckled, watching the guy's facial expression turn into excitement.

"No way! You'll be attending UA? That's crazy so am I!"

Your eyes widen, finally someone I can be close to in that new school. "What class are you in?" You move to turn off the treadmill, picking up your water bottle from the floor. You unscrew the cap, taking large sips as you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Class 1A."

The water backfires, going down the wrong pipe. You cough out the water, rubbing your chest in pain as Midoriya pats on your back in worry. "You okay? Again?"

You wave your hand at him, coughing a few more times before clearing your throat. "So am I." Your voice comes out rough and broken but still understandable.

For the rest of the day, you chat with Midoriya, getting to know each other as you helped each other work out. Like whenever you needed help with your form, he'd guide you. When he needed more weight on his back as he did push up, you were more than happy to sit on him as you scrolled through your cellphone.

As the end of the day, before the two of you part, he asks for your number so it would be easier to contact you. You kind of regret giving it to him cause he wouldn't shut up about the heroes he looked up to. He was such a hero nerd you found it funny.

When he calmed down and told you good night, you hit the sack yourself, images of the angry blond with beautiful ruby eyes filling your head as you fell asleep with a smile. And honestly, that was the best sleep you've had in years.

You're walking yourself to your new school, heart drumming against your chest. The feeling was a little too nostalgic, it was the same feeling you felt back when you came to UA for the practical exam. It felt like time went by a little too fast. You calm your mind, remembering your mom's text to you earlier that morning, telling you good luck with your first day.

You try recalling your goal- to become a hero despite my father telling me I couldn't. To become a hero, to become a hero to become-

"Hey Y/n!" Midoriya waves at you, his smile as bright as the sun. It's sickening but you shrug it off, it suits his face. "Oh, I hope it's alright if I call you Y/n."

"Only if I can call you Izuku." You wink at him, smiling as you continue your way towards the building. As Izuku rambled on about how nervous he was for today that he couldn't sleep properly, your mind raced back to the thought of the school uniform being uncomfortable.

You were so used to wear pants that showing off your legs seemed taboo to you. Don't get it wrong, you like your legs, you think they're okay. But you've been wearing pants maybe eighty percent of your life that you don't like showing even your knees. You can't sit the way you want with skirts- especially if the way you want is your legs either parted apart as you sink onto your chair or your legs on the desk as you scroll through your phone lazily.

Given that it was school rules to wear a uniform, you decided to cover up your legs with black thigh high instead, cursing at the skirt for being a little bit too short for your liking.

"Here it is." Izuku points up at the board right above the classroom door that read 1A. "I just hope I'm not classmates with Tenya or Kacchan." He chuckles, reaching for the door.

"Tenya? That glasses dude who seemed like someone pissed in his cheerios the morning of the exam?" Izuku nods his head but your mind wasn't at ease just yet. Who the hell was this Kacchan?

Your mind wanders again but your thoughts clear away when you hear two people arguing.

"Take your feet off that desk now." You chuckle, recognizing that voice. You mentally send a sorry to Izuku's way.

"Hah?" And that voice too!

You look up, scanning the room and looking for your two new classmates who were arguing. Iida's back covers who he's getting mad at, forcing you to step inside the classroom to get a better look.

"It's the first day and you're already disrespecting this academy by scuffing school property you cretin."

"You're kidding me right? Your old school put a stick in your ass?"

As you thought, that voice belonged to the same guy who's been infiltrating your head ever since you met him. Day and night. However his attitude caught you off guard, he wasn't this rude when the two of you met.

"Rubies?" You say out loud, the blond, or as Izuku calls him, Kacchan looks your way, eyes widening at the sight of you in the same classroom as him. His once smug expression is wiped off his face as he stares at you, completely taken off guard.

Tenya and a brown haird girl who looked a little too much like Kirby approached Izuku and they began talking to him. You, in the other hand, are being pulled out of the classroom by the blond. His hand still as soft as you remember, his grip isn't even that tight around your wrist. Just enough to tug you to where he wanted to bring you without hurting you.

The two of you stand right outside the door leading to the back of the classroom. He turns around, smug expression completely gone and replaced by confusion.

"You never told me you went to UA." He says, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he leans his side on the wall. You cross your arms on your chest, leaning to the side as you rest most of your weight on one leg. "You never asked." The two of you look at each other in silence for a few moments, your heart going haywire in your chest as he keeps his eyes on you. Such eyes that could keep you in a cage of trance forever.

Bakugou opens his mouth but before he could get a word out, a tired voice cuts him off. "Get inside the classroom." He tired-looking man with unkept hair and peach fuzz tells you both. Was he the school janitor? Nevertheless, the both of you walked back inside the classroom, Bakugou's eyes silently telling you that the two of you were going to finish the conversation later.

You sat down on your seat, eyes following the same tired-looking man as he stood in front of the class. "My name is Shota Aizawa. I'll be your homeroom teacher from now on."

He hands all of you your PE uniforms, telling you all to quickly change into them. You follow the girls to the changing rooms and you hang your PE uniform on your locker, already unbuttoning your uniform but you stop yourself.

I can't show them that.

A girl with long black hair, similar to yours, looks at you from the side, her expression questioning. "I don't think Aizawa sensei is okay with late students. You should quickly change."

You wrap your hands around yourself, cringing at the thought of other eyes on your body. The girl's expression changes into a softer one and she smiles, "Don't worry, nobody here will judge. All bodies are beautiful the way they are."

Exactly, yeah. If these girls were going to be your second family until you graduate highschool, you shouldn't be afraid. You can trust them, right?

Slowly, with slightly trembling hands, you begin unbuttoning your uniform. Taking a deep breath in, you slip your long sleeve down your body, showcasing the many scars that littered all over your back.

You can feel the atmosphere change into a silent, much colder one and your thoughts begin to race. Was it wrong for you to show them this? You've only been together for a few hours, how could you show such a vulnerable side of yourself?

Your eyes squeeze shut, ready for the comments and snickers but instead you hear a squeal. "We have the same bra!" A pink girl squeals, pointing at her pink lacy bra. A smile creeps onto your face as the girl extends her hand towards you, "I'm Mina Ashido. Nice to meet you, twinnie!" She perks and as soon as you take her hand, she shakes it softly before pulling away.

You quickly dress up into your PE uniform, pulling your hair up into a ponytail. "Woah, L/n! The white streaks on your hair look so cool! Where did you get them done?" Mina asks, completely taken by your hair, her eyes sparkling as you flushed at her compliment. No one has ever complimented your hair so genuinely like that before, makes you feel kind of proud having it.

"It's actually natural. My dad has black hair and my mom has white." The girls begin to ooooh and soon after, you all have reached the fields. Aizawa stands beside a white square with a device in his hand, patiently waiting with lazy eyes on his students.

"You should put your hair up like that more. I think the white streaks are cool." Bakugou tells you, his eyes and face forward as he listens to Aizawa talking.

You wouldn't tell him, but his words had your stomach feeling weird things and you feel your face slowly heat up. You swallow whatever you were feeling and face forward.

"Don't tell me what to do, rubies."

You had to buy more ponytails.

#bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou bios #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #mha imagines #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bnha imagines

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