#lydia x male!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zaceouiswriting · 2 years ago

Text

Lost Love

Character: Derek Hale x male reader, Death/Dea (original) x male reader, mentioned Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, and Eli Hale. (Scott never gets a mention)

Universe: Teen Wolf

Warnings: None

Authors note: Hello. I've finally dealt with another request, (Only three months after receiving it, I'm really late with my requests) and well, I may have to apologize. I had a lot of creative issues with it, from the timeline to all of the characters that were supposed to be involved. I might also forget a character, but since it's been three months, I don't feel like rewriting everything again. So I’m sorry @arekmaximoffkq but I hope you can enjoy it anyway.

"We can't win this alone!" That was a statement no one would have ever expected from their fearless True Alpha. No one ever thought that Scott McCall could feel hopeless by a threat. That was until the Legions of Darkness and the Hunters under Monroe, who could never be stopped, made a pact. It was a fragile one considering the Legions are supernaturals.

Either way, they found a common enemy. Scott McCall. Although the Legions have made massive strides to dominate the world, beginning in North America, he causes them too many problems with his alliance network.

"Before anyone says anything, I've already asked the Asian Dragons Alliance and United European Tribes, but apart from a few smaller groups within them, they can't help us much. They also fight the Legion on their continents.”

"We've never lost to anyone, Scott. Why should it be any different this time.”

"Because he's not here anymore, Liam." Derek was the one who reminded everyone of what had happened nearly fifteen years ago.

The room went silent from one moment to the next. A deadly atmosphere hung over their heads. Liam couldn't understand what was happening. He never understood when his pack went silent like this after something remembered them about someone he never got to know.

Lydia was the only one who never looked as sad as the others, she always did her best to look that way, but if people watched her closely, they could tell the subtle difference. She was also the only one who offered to help Liam and the other people who weren't around at the time.

Everyone accepted, even if it was just about getting out of the room. In Scott's kitchen, she was surrounded by a larger group, all staring at her, desperate for answers. And she told the tragic story. About her husband being possessed by a Nogitsune, causing him to more or less kill several people.

Scott had saved his girlfriend Allison but instead damned Derek's fiancé. The sword intended for the archer pierced the older man who was there only to protect the youths. Before Derek could reach him, his body dissolved, hatred in his eyes as he died. But worse, it didn't save Allison for long because just moments later, as she nocked another arrow on her bow, she was stabbed from behind and died in Scott's arms.

Since then, Derek hasn't been able to look Scott directly in the eye without wanting to kill him. Instead of just one death that day, there were two. And one of those deaths was so much more important than the other. Allison was just a formidable archer but useless in the long run. Even Lydia had to admit that as her best friend.

Derek’s fiancé - a powerful mage - did everything for them, protecting and even making sure that the threats they faced never got out of control.

To say the next generation wasn't impressed would be an understatement. They always looked up to Scott, his supposedly strong moral compass. But now they knew his true intentions; selfishness.

Lydia knew from day one you saw Scott for the vile person he actually is. She only saw it after a few years of being separated from him. Being under the same roof with him now made her sick. She could only see her best friend's dead face and Derek's broken face.

Now more and more people have been able to see it, although it doesn't change anything because Scott is still their Alpha. But at least now they know that most of his decisions are selfish and not for the greater good.

"So what can we do?" Mason asked Lydia, slowly getting restless himself.

The look she gave him, and the whole group spoke all the necessary words. "I don't think we can do anything. We can only hope it doesn't get any worse."

Lydia should never have said those words. Mere days later, the sudden appearance of the Oni, quickly followed by the Nogitsune they thought had been killed, and then someone who broke their fragile pack even more apart.

She had no choice but to get help herself.

With the rest of the pack still at home, Scott tried to keep everything together while getting his Allison back. Lydia was in Jackson's car with him and his husband. "Who are you looking for anyway? I thought the supernatural council already told Scott we couldn't help."

But she said nothing. Not ready to say anything.

Ethan had the idea right away, but his husband didn't. Jackson kept nudging Lydia. To the point where his husband put his hand over his babbling mouth before Lydia would overturn the car.

They spent the rest of their journey in absolute silence until they came to a private road. "Please wait here. Don't follow me, and please don't ruin this, okay?" Without even waiting for an answer, she exited the car.

As she walked up the street in high heels, her arrival could be heard far out. She never intended to be secretive, which worked well enough for her.

She could feel the heavy air everywhere, filled with so much raw magical power that she kept marveling that the animals that lived there didn't suffocate. For example, she never had trouble breathing, but once she got there, she could never take a single proper breath.

“If this is not Lydia Martin. We haven’t seen each other in a couple of years!“ Your voice suddenly called out to the banshee. Already used to your antics, she turned around but could not see you immediately. “Turn around again.“

And she did, slowly, but she did. With a big smile, you stood before her, a crown of flowers with red and white roses, without thorns in your hands. Without hesitation, you crowned her again as you normally do whenever she comes by.

"You never change, do you?"

"Nope." With another big smile, you pulled Lydia into your arms. "It's so nice to see you again!" After their brief hug, he put her arm around his. "Now tell me why you are here. Our next meeting was only a few months away.”

Lydia would have been a fool to think you didn't smell the need for her to come to you so early. She was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them.

"A lot of things happen, and I know you don't like it when I talk around, so I'll just ask you. Could you come and-"

"Dad!" The panicked voice of one of your sons jerked you away from Lydia. Before you could react, however, your two sons stood before you and Lydia, with someone you knew and someone you didn't. "We found these intruders and- Aunt Lydia, what are you doing here?"

"You two have grown." She was utterly surprised to see them standing so tall, which made her slightly uneasy, knowing she would have many questions that the man she was meeting would most likely won't like.

Luckily Jackson - who was brought by one of my sons - was doubled-over from feeling sick because of the teleportation.

Shaking your head in amusement, you couldn't hold back your snarky thought: "Jackson, are you still not used to this?" Your voice froze him in his tracks.

Slowly, very slowly, almost scarily he raised his head, his eyes though still fixated on the floor. Standing almost straight again he still did not dare look at you. Lydia told him that he could and with her reassurance he finally did. His eyes quickly filled with tears as he locked them with yours. His baby-blue eyes shimmered with shock but in a happy way.

Without warning, he lunged forward at a pace neither your sons nor you could do anything about. He pulled you into his arms, much more muscular than you remembered. Now he feels and looks a lot like a young Derek. Thinking about him always made you sad, which not only your sons felt this time.

Only Jackson was apparently unaware of this. "This is Ethan, my husband!" he told you excitedly, smiling cheek to cheek, ignoring the fact that you were not dead and standing still alive in front of him.

You gently cupped his face, which now looked much older than yours. Just another curse of your existence. "I will meet your handsome husband in a moment. But before, how are you and your parents?" His face darkened. "You forgot what you promised me, didn't you?" Shame crossed his face for a short moment. He became the little boy you met when you moved to Beacon Hills, who just found out he was adopted again.

You saved him from getting hit by a car, talked to him, and brought him back to his parents in the evening. For years you tried to get him to see them for who they are; but you were unsuccessful. You finally got through his thick skull, but you died before Jackson, his parents, and you could meet again.

"Then we must do it soon. They are not getting any younger and deserve to be loved by you. After all, they raised you. But I also have to blame them for spoiling you little shit!” You jokingly shook his head with your hands, ruffling his perfect hair. It eventually brought a small smile to his face.

Booping his nose brought back many sweet memories with little Jackson and even moody teenager Jackson. Slowly you pulled your hands away from him. In the same movement, he turned and looked at the other man, who finally rose from his slouching position.

"Ethan is your name, right?" you asked in a dangerously low voice that sent a cold sweat down his son's back. He nodded and swallowed hard. "I think this little rascal over here told you about me?" You glanced back and forth at the couple with a raised eyebrow.

"My big brother," Jackson whispered to his husband to refresh his memory. Suddenly, Ethan's eyes widened with shock and realization.

His body suddenly went stiff. He even held out his hand to most likely properly greet you.

“Hey, little brat?“

“Yes?“

"How come you've got not only a handsome man but also a well-mannered one while still being the same obnoxious brat?"

He could see your cheeky, teasing grin that had torn holes in his heart so many times before, believing the hurtful things you said until you made it clear it wasn't meant like that.

However, Ethan knew nothing about it.

"Because Jackson is an amazing man, passionate, gentle, romantic-"

"He didn't mean it like that. He complimented us both."

"What? He attacked you!"

Both Jackson and you looked at each other, giggling at his words. "Brat is my nickname for him because that's what I called him the first we met. He is and remains obnoxious to me because although he has a hard, unfriendly demeanor on the outside, he has a heart of gold. I'm just glad he hasn't changed."

Horror filled Ethan's eyes as you explained the rather adorable things you had to say about his husband. You could see that he wanted to fall into a hole right then and there.

Without a word, you suddenly stood before him and put one of your hands on his cheek. "If you hurt my little boy, I will kill you and destroy your body on a molecular level, dissolve you, and destroy every memory anyone ever had of you, understood?"

At first, he seemed amused by the innocuous-sounding threat, but when he looked into your eyes, he knew it wasn't a joke. Eyes wide, you pulled him into a hug. "Welcome to the family!" In your arms, you whispered something else in his ear, a threat he couldn't ignore, but you made sure no one else could hear.

As you pulled away smiling, Jackson smiled too without looking at his husband, who looked pale, horrified at you.

"Now, can someone explain why you're all here?"

“Scott needs your help.“

"No." You turn and motion for your boys to come with you. Even though they were intrigued by the name Lydia mentioned, they followed you anyway.

"We need your help," Jackson pointed out. Looking into your eyes melted your heart a little, but you still couldn't.

With gentle eyes, you looked at the boy who was like a little brother to you. You still had to say it, even though you didn't want to: "No. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Jackson's face twisted, hurt at my refusal to help him. "If you had asked me, I would have done it immediately, but not with this boy and possibly the man who let me die." Suddenly the ground shook under your words, and time flew by, just for you to reverse it again.

"No one would be safe without your help!" Lydia tried again, but you waved your hand and teleported her back to their vehicle. Your boys wanted to know what it was about, but you couldn't tell them. They only know the bare minimum, and you want it to stay that way.

Days went by without Lydia trying to contact you again. You have feared for the safety of those who have been good to you, but you cannot save them every time they get into trouble. You were working on the ranch when you felt something strange.

One moment you were standing in one of the barns, and the next at the edge of your property. "What do you two are doing there?"

Your sons were jumping around in utter fear. One of the few rules they have to follow is that they can't leave the property without you.

"We have to help them!" the elder twin said bluntly while his younger brother had his eyes on the floor.

"You want to see your father, don't you?" That question silenced him immediately. "Don't worry. He won't die. He's like a cockroach. He comes out of everything with a few little bruises and maybe a few wounds.”

But they were determined to help Scott's pack. You could see it in his eyes and later even in his brother's eyes when he finally looked up at you. When they saw your eyes glow purple, magical energy flowed around you, and a moment later, the bubble that kept the ranch hidden from supernatural beings. It as well saved it from natural disasters.

They stared at you in surprise as your eyes went back to normal. "Then go. But not with all your abilities. You can teleport to them but not back or anywhere. Your powers will be minimal."

After that, you just disappeared, hurt, disappointed, and proud simultaneously. Being able to feel your boys teleport away, a strange pain immediately filled your chest. At first, slowly, and then suddenly, you winded in pain. Somehow able to suppress it, you walked back into your house, taking a book out, trying to just forget about it.

Just a sentence in, you were unable to concentrate anymore. For minutes you just stared at the filled pages before you threw it away, awaiting to hear it land on the floor.

All the alarm bells went off in your head at once because that sound never came. Ready to rip some heads off, you were suddenly frozen in place. "Finally, we meet again!"

"That's impossible!" you called out loudly through clenched teeth. "I killed you!"

Suddenly there was a child in front of you and next to him a middle-aged man. "You killed one of us and we want his powers back, you filthy mortal!"

The child was about to touch you. His small hand was outstretched to do whatever he wanted to you when suddenly a spear pierced his head. Blood splattered everywhere. Gasping in shock, he fell to the ground and disappeared. Only to reappear shortly thereafter. "I am the past! You cannot kill me!" Anger emanates from the small body, much more than a child should be able to feel.

You had an intense desire to contest this but believed it might be a while before you would find something that could actually kill this spoiled brat.

In complete contrast stood the middle-aged man. "We just want grandfather time back. After that, we'll leave you alone... forever."

Anger surged back through your body, reminding you of how they tried to erase your existence multiple times, the first being right at your birth. "No!" you told him after lashing out with your powers and destroying his body in no time.

"You'll see," the same middle-aged guy suddenly told you from the other side. “Maybe you can kill my son, the past because the past is quickly forgotten. And maybe even my father because the future hasn't been written yet." Out of nowhere, without you even feeling him move, he leaned in with his mouth next to your ear. "I am the present, omnipresent, unkillable except when the universe implodes in on itself."

The anger you were feeling did not subside. It even became worse, as his words felt like a looming threat to you. „What if I kill your son as well? Wouldn’t I be the controller of the present, through manipulation of past and future?“

The man smiled for the first time. "You're a lot smarter than I thought." After that, his voice softened a lot. "I allow you to keep the future, but use it wisely. You are a part of me now, and I am one of you, don't risk the balance of nature. At least no more than you have already done. You perversion of nature!"

You fell over as time worked again and lay on the floor while the middle-aged man crouched in front of his arms on his thighs. "You and your sons are abominations, an error of a magical nature. Therefore, in order to have the foresight of future events will be useful, but you must protect the universe with your power and that of your children! If not, we will find a way to kill you like we did the one who freed people's minds giving them absolute freedom."

Now that a real threat was being uttered, chills ran through your blood went cold – almost as cold as ice – you could already tell that his words were not empty.

You agreed with him. Though you knew you were powerful, you doubted there was any chance for you to win against something or someone so fundamental to the workings of the universe itself.

He smiled at you. A smile so malicious that fear was no longer the right word; you were horrified by this man. Somehow he must have sensed this because he turned to his son: who glared at you but took his father's hand.

They disappeared suddenly and without a trace; no magic, not even a smell.

Startled by this event, you fell back in your seat, exhausted and angered by your passive behavior. Maybe it was finally time to show everyone just how powerful you really are and not just give them some showings of lesser magical abilities you harbor. But where?

The pain that was gone came back a thousand times stronger than before. A scream so high you thought your vocal cords would eventually tear apart came out of you. It felt like your heart was exploding into a million pieces.

In a panic, you suddenly found yourself in a school that you had to attend many times considering you were - under normal circumstances - still would be, the mother figure of a pack of supernaturals.

Only now, you see older versions of all the teens you helped grow, broaden their horizons, and more. They fight the same enemy you died against. Right in the middle were your children - they were more of a hindrance than a real part of the struggle. Without much of their powers, they are almost useless.

You were watching the fight, but soon a girl - the cause of your death - snuck up behind the group and your sons.

You watched wide-eyed as she put an arrow in her bow, drew it, and let it fly. Your eyes followed the line of it exactly. As you realized where it would end up, a burning hatred began to flare in your veins. Not only was she the cause of your death, but now she was after your children?

A burst of raw magical energy shattered the illusion of the time - in which you were being held. With the smell of revenge in your nostrils and the tingling in your fingers, your scene changed again, only this time it was your own doing.

***

How can that be? Where did these two guys come from? And why do they look so like... him? My mind was racing as two boys about eighteen suddenly shoved Eli and me out of the way of danger, and then their hands glowed in that familiar color.

With only a few movements of their hands, they threw away the Onis with absolute ease. It reminded me even more of him. Honestly, everything reminds me of him, especially these days. Watching Eli grow up didn't make it any better. Maybe he would have stayed, even after what I did. But no, I had to be selfish and believe that she would stay with me.

Before I could ask them if they knew of him, they had summoned magic to forge weapons and engaged the Onis in sword fights.

Soon most of the Onis came to their comrade's aid and pushed both boys to their limits. First, their magic began to flicker before it just…disappeared.

As I watched them fight against those who had killed my one true love, I had this strange feeling, as if it was my duty to protect these young men as if they were my own flesh and blood.

"Get out of the way!" The boys only looked at me in shock, not moving at all. It forced Eli to suddenly transform, to push the other boys to the ground. Even though no blood was spilled or flesh pierced, my heart stopped even thinking that any of the three might have been injured.

Just as I wanted to scold my son, I froze in place, seeing the light-breaking shine of the sword rushing down.

A growl escaped my dry lips, my sore throat already dying, but not even that could stop the Oni from its hatred-filled attack against the three.

Since my body was too weak to move, even as a werewolf, I became too tired after hours of fighting. I could only watch as my son, the only good thing in my life that I ended up doing, would die right before my eyes.

Tears were already welling up in my eyes as the sword went deeper and deeper, now piercing his skin.

A sudden burst of violet light blinded me from seeing the death of my only loved one left. Screaming his name on a tongue that scolded and disciplined him more times than was necessary. I couldn't hold back my tears over the death of my son! He had to die without being able to see me: his father. Even though I was the worst father imaginable, I was still his father. Not being able to comfort my son in his last seconds of life will be the second worst experience of my life. It was hard enough living without the light of my life. But without my son? I could make my own life there!

"Don't go near my sons, you hellspawn!"

I... I know that voice! That voice... so soft and yet stern at the same time, it put all my hair up almost immediately.

I could only hear its magic crackling and things colliding. I could only imagine what had happened. But slowly, very slowly, the blindness - from the bright light - wore off. From blurred eyes, I saw a silhouette fighting like a monster against the real monster attacking us.

"Are you both all right?" His voice again, his beautiful voice. "I warned you, outside of the bubble, you will not be able to use your full power. As my sons, your powers are immeasurable. Therefore, it will take time and discipline to unlock your abilities again!”

Hearing his voice scolding these young men and calling them his "sons" almost broke me. They seem so old! How is that possible? Did he have these kids before we met?

Before I could ask, however, I felt a burning pair of eyes on me and saw one of the twins pointing at me. When his eyes met mine, it was as if I hadn't been dazzled by his striking entry: my eyes could take in all of him. I could see its raw beauty right in front of me. He never had to do anything to look good, but now? He was gorgeous, just as young as I had met him.

But his eyes didn't show me the same love as they used to. There was disgust and anger in them instead. Of course, I deserve both, but it still hurt me.

"Dad, are you okay?" Even though I've never treated Eli the way he deserves, he still cares about me, which made my heart skip a beat.

"Dad? How old are you?" My veins turned cold, freezing even, hearing the angry voice of my true love. I just realized that if he knew Eli's age, he would know the whole truth.

At first, Eli didn't realize he was being addressed like the clueless boy he always was. It warmed my heart a bit. But soon, he must have felt the twinkling eyes on him because he turned and asked his question again. Eli, almost forced to speak now, looked at me confused, almost scared, but I nodded, not wanting to know what he would say or do.

"I-I'm fifteen, s-sir."

Sir? Eli was never that well-behaved or reclusive person who respects strangers.

His eyes widened instantly, and the anger turned to pain as his hand flew over his heart, pinched his skin, and even a tear found its way to the corner of his eye.

"Who was it, Derek?" He was speaking to me, speaking directly to me, and I could hear him! But does that mean... he's alive?

Just now, realizing that I wasn't actually hallucinating, I nearly shit my pants lying on the floor, bruised and sore.

"Who did you cheat on me with? Fifteen years..."

There was no way I could lie to him again as I had so many years ago. "It was Breadon."

"Are you serious?" There was only disappointment in his eyes, and I could only feel the same. I feel ashamed of myself every day. Even though Eli came out of it, I still feel terrible.

"She died ten years ago. But she left right after the birth, leaving Eli and me alone. I thought if you weren't there, my heart would be hers. But we soon realized that neither of us loved the other, and I didn't date anyone else after..." A lump in my throat kept me from spilling out everything I could think of.

"You betrayed me? Let me die like I didn't mean anything?" He could hardly contain his anger but did his best, most likely for his sons and not for me. "You know what the funniest thing is? I was so in love with you that I would have forgiven you for cheating on me and getting a woman pregnant."

It was like a dagger piercing my heart when I heard that. Hearing those words of love once more, I realized in the next moment that my life could have been so much sweeter with that man. A man so deeply in love with me to forgive the worst betrayal of all.

***

When you saw Derek again, you felt a sudden outburst of hatred, but hearing that his life was so bad made it... subside, just like that. He's a lot worse off than you are now. It gave you a kind of satisfaction you never knew you needed.

"Get up, you pathetic man, and fight. I won't do it all by myself." Derek looked up in surprise when you spoke to him in a disgusting tone like that. "As I did with the hunters and the Legion of Darkness!" you mumbled softly afterward.

Derek stared at you in absolute shock. He knew you were strong fifteen years ago, but this?

A hiss came out of nowhere. A tone Derek and all other werewolves know all too well. You heard it often before as well. Far away was someone you knew should be dead. The arrow she released was in line with you. Without even trying to get out of the way, use your magic to surround the projectile to deflect it in a different direction or stop it mid-air.

Knowing this was the only way it could go: you turned back to Derek. Only for the arrow to pierce your shoulder. It only got stopped by your bone.

For a second, you were shocked, only to feel the dark magic of another being. The Nogitsune - a powerful spirit - could not simply be killed, as you now know.

“Hmm… I should have been prepared for that. After all, his disgusting smell is all over this damn place!”

"Dad, what are you talking about?"

"That stupid Nogitsune. As always, Scott can't do anything right.”

Just as Derek opened his mouth, you stared at him, effectively silencing him before he could even utter a single sound.

"Huhu... Death, where are you?" Your voice sweet as sugar. Your sons already know this sound, and Derek did it too. Only Eli was confused, but even he broke out in a terrible sweat. "Do I have to go up there and beat your ass again?"

Just as your threat sounded, an extremely low chuckle could be heard from somewhere. A smile graced your beautiful face when you heard it.

"I think you got it the wrong way around." His heavy footsteps echoed through the school corridors.

"Uncle Dea!" your two sons shouted and jumped into the man's arms.

He laughed heartily at this warming gesture; A six-foot and seven-inch-tall man was tall enough for your two boys to hold on to, and his muscular torso, wrapped in a himation - white lose clothes - showed off his big, muscular pecs and his eight-pack. In your eyes, he was and always will be the most handsome man in any world or realm.

Soon he was pulling your sons away, his eyes fixed on you. "What did I do to annoy you this time, sweetheart?" His deep bass voice is so dark it sends shivers down your spine. He slowly moved towards you while your knees were already weakening. "It's so nice to see you again after all these years."

"I'd say the same thing... if there wasn't someone you promised me the last time we saw each other is dead and in heaven." Irritated, especially by your disrespectful tone, he slightly angled his head, almost as if he wanted to warn you. But as he followed your outstretched index finger, his eyebrows suddenly jumped up in confusion.

"What the hell is she doing here? Her soul should be at peace!” he muttered angrily to himself as a book appeared in his hand. As he flipped through it, more and more arrows flew in your guy's direction. Strangely enough, your magic still couldn't protect you from them. All you guys could do was evade them.

Until the atmosphere suddenly changed, darkness blossomed from a place where you only knew warmth. Death glowed in that atmospheric-changing darkness, ready to devour all life.

"Someone stole her soul and gave her a new body!" he roared loudly, his voice deafening, exploding all the windows and even doors around us. It even threw Allison off balance, forcing her to the ground and snapping her bowstring.

"Can you do something about it?"

"Do I look like a wizard?" After a moment's pause, his dark eyes met yours, "Don't answer that, or I'll have to spank you later."

An angry blush appeared on your face. "Not like a wizard, but a really hot farmer, at least with the scythe."

His dark eyes swallowed you whole; it was pure lust, but deep down, also love. "Even if your god were still alive, not even he would be able to save you from me when I get you later alone." He licked his plump lips, causing an immense lump to form in your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe effectively. "But I can't do anything at the moment. Someone has to kill the body the hunter girl is in before I can take her soul this time, so she can never be reborn.”

Cracking your fingers and neck, your eyes were solely on the huntress. Knowing that only you would kill that bitch, because everyone else is riding Scott’s dick, trying to make this joke of an Alpha happy.

Before you could cast a single spell at her, the same useless Alpha had his claws rammed into your chest. Determination in his eyes as you two looked at each other, on eye level.

"No!" suddenly, a familiar voice sounded behind you. In a flash, dark hair pushed Scott away from you. His claws ripped from your chest before the Alpha had a chance to crush your heart.

Breathing heavily in pain, you bend over to hide the true extent of the pain. "Dad!"

"Don't worry. I'm okay. Angry, but okay." You smiled at your two sons, who immediately came to your side, each holding an arm. Just then, you glanced over at them. "Lydia? Jackson? If any of you ever come to me to ask for another favor and still be associated with Scott... you'll wish you had jumped into lava because the death you would suffer at my hands will even make the devil blush! "

Lydia has known for a long time that you hated Scott, and over time she realized that your hatred was not unfounded. Especially after Stiles' death, which was also his fault, leaving her with two young children, the last born a month after her husband's tragic death.

Jackson wasn't even a part of the McCall Pack, but as an old ally and somewhat friend to the 'True Alpha‘ he still does his bidding if asked nicely.

They both looked at each other, their friendship still there, even after all these years. They talked silently before nodding at each other. They quickly switched from Scotts' side to yours.

In all honesty, you knew these two would come to your side before you even issued that ultimatum. Especially Jackson. If he didn't already know, he would soon learn that you've always taken care of him.

"Please, look after my boys. I'll take care of this devil spawn!” Allison was Lydia's best friend. You knew it was hard for her, but she had cried after her long enough. She's a smart cookie and aware that Allison is dead, and it isn't okay that she is back, especially not for nature, to which Lydia is close herself.

Using your magic, you lifted yourself into the air and flew to where Allison was last seen.

But when you got there, only her ruined bow was left. Before you could react, a knife was in your thigh. Groaning in pain, you pulled out the dagger and threw it at her, only hitting the wall behind her. Because she was already gone again, cursing under your breath, you began to search for her again.

A massive salvo of knives hit you quickly, your entire left side being scratched, punctured, or sliced open by them.

At that point, you had it with these games. You jumped from room to room with your powers and found them soon enough. With your magic around her neck, you imprisoned her; Before you could finish her little game by killing her stolen body, someone or something pulled her back and cut off the magic holding Allison in place. You were confronted with a being that had once been human, mummified, but it was still obvious.

You were the only person who could fight the Nogitsune. In your opinion, Stiles was always useless, but you have to give him one thing: he was an intelligent guy and the only one who could outwit a dark being like this. Without him, only you and your brute strength could be an enemy to him.

Meanwhile, the others tried to capture Allison despite her being faster, smarter than ever, and most horrifically deadlier.

"I swear by all the dead gods, if Scott had ever been responsible enough to kill his damn enemies, none of this bullshit would ever have happened!"

With renewed anger, even hatred, seething so deep in your soul that something strange happened, something painful.

Your magical core, which many people call 'soul' exploded, not in a destructive but an opening way as if nature had accepted your requests and could finally see the value in your existence.

Even the dark being, fueled by hatred, fear, and anger, suddenly became afraid. Your son's, just as you experienced something similar. Their eyes glow a purple hue, just like yours. But unlike you, their other side - they inherited from your ex-fiancé - has broken away from the many walls you built inside them.

For the first time in fifteen years of their lives, they transformed. The boys knew they could have done that from birth because of their vast magical abilities. But as they did so, the walls around them crumbled with their enormous size.

At that moment, you pulled yourself out of your pain and helped your sons control their magic that could shatter the very fabric of existence. Although slightly smaller, they are still at least five times larger than a regular wolf. In unison, they howled loudly, startling the nogitsune even more and making it tremble with terrible fear. You gathered magic in a ball of violet energy and threatened the dark being that tried to flee but failed this time. As it slowly began to warp into the shadows, you blocked the shadow, isolating it from everything else. Shocked, the Nogitsune tried to escape, but the magic-like handcuffs pulled on all four of his limbs.

"What must I do to keep you away from the mortal realm?" you asked him, sighing heavily. You looked away from that for a second, mostly for dramatic effect, over to Dea. Strangely, he pointed to where the Nogitsune was. But when you looked back, he was gone again. "Are you fucking SERIOUS?" Your voice echoed loudly through the school hallways, alerting everyone that something was beyond wrong.

Pissed off, you were going to blow up the whole building. But out of nowhere, the younger of your twins pulled something out of a shadow. A leg. But only one leg, not the whole dark being, but at least part of it.

Frantically, the leg tried to get out of his sharp teeth, but your son held it tight and carried it over to you with a toothy doggy grin.

Instead of pulling it out, you put it in a purple magic prison. Separate it from his body. Immediately after that, it stopped moving but stayed there. Although it was no longer bound to his body, it still existed.

It wasn't long before your younger son was carrying Allison, also in his mouth, mauled by him. A gasp could be heard from the sidelines, a hurt, irritated one. "If you dare touch one of my sons, Scott, I will maim you in ways you can't even imagine!" You didn't even look at him, but your voice told him the threat was real and near. So he quickly withdrew.

Your son threw Allison to your feet; her body was bleeding badly. "Finally, I can do what was supposed to happen!" Without guilt, you formed a sharp weapon in your hand and raised your arm to strike. As the blade swung through the air, but you had to stop as Scott jumped in front of his ex-girlfriend. You weren't shocked at all. He built everything around her, and she is with him now. Jumping from girl to girl, even dating his former best friend's ex-girlfriend, like a cliché player in romantic high school movies.

Instead of killing her, you sliced him with the blade. He cried out in agony as his skin began to burn slightly. “It won't heal, Scott. Any cut I give you with this blade that might heal will leave permanent scars.”

But he didn't seem to care because he stood there, teeth clenched. So you slashed him again and again... and again. You soon found yourself enjoying causing pain to this narcissistic little boy who never grew up.

"My love!" His deep voice finally snapped you out of your crimson thoughts of revenge. Dea's hand on your shoulder, his eyes looking at you with concern.

A slightly embarrassed blush rose to your cheeks. You averted your eyes far from him. But he pulled you into his arms. As you began to sob softly, your two sons came to your side and wrapped Dea and you in their united arms. Warmth, a happy and hopeful warmth, welled up in your broken heart.

When all eyes were on your little family, even the pain and jealousy of your first love, no one heard the bloody gasp at your side. Not even you until you felt something drip down your arm. Looking slightly down, there was a red substance. As your eyes looked around some more, you found the origin.

Scott sat up, his mouth bloody and a blade sticking out of his body, piercing his heart. "The mage is right. You really should have killed me when you had the chance!" An ominous chuckle followed those words.

Your eyes widened in shock as they flew toward the magical prison. Only one leg remained from the bandaged leg: a female leg. As your eyes darted back to Allison, you could see her skin slowly peeling off, revealing the Nogitsune.

When you tried to hit it with your magic sword, it disappeared. Leaving its blade pierced in Scott's chest. But you didn't give a damn; his alpha status should never have happened anyway. Maybe now someone more worthy could be elevated to this status.

At that moment, there was something more urgent. Telepathically, you told your sons to look for the real Allison. It didn't take long for them to find her: hiding behind some desks. But they just howled, which meant they couldn't carry her, so you walked past the dying Scott into the classroom and closed the door.

Soon you came out again, not a hair out of place. “Our work is done here. Lydia, Jackson, and even Ethan, you know where to find us. I'd be happy to host you whenever you want. Maybe next Christmas?” Ignoring Scott, who made his death so melodramatic.

Before you could leave, however, Derek pulled you aside. "Why didn't you ever tell me I had children?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me you cheated?" I stared at him for an answer. "Of course, no answer. Due to my short death, I had to put more magical energy into them. Their bodies became too weak to sustain the immense magical pressure. I had to kill one of the three gods of time to force their bodies to age to keep them alive. I suffered great pains to give birth and keep them alive. Now they look like eighteen-year-old men but are actually only fifteen. I'll keep them sealed for another three years, then if they want to have contact with you, they can. But I won't."

"Neither will we." your two boys said in unison as they look at their father in disgust.

It brought a smile to your face. As you teleported back up with your sons, you looked at Derek one last time. "I wanted to tell you the day I died. At least the blade cutting me down showed me the real you. I hope you never find love again and die despised by most.”

Before that day, you never told your sons what happened, only that something happened that forced you to get away from their father. You always wanted them to form their own picture of their father.

He tried to grab you, but luckily you got away just in time. Derek stayed there, his hand grasping air.

"Three more years... I have to train more people to be able to retire by then and finally marry this man!" Death himself murmured softly. It immediately caught Derek's attention. "Oh, I am sorry. The man you cheated on and I've been with for several years. I fell in love with him when he won against me: the first time anyone's won, for that matter. At least I'd never betray him.” The smug grin on Death's ice-cold face had been enough to make Derek wince in fear.

Unfortunately, you didn't witness his fear of your one true love: a man, an otherworldly being just like you. But no matter how much you despise Derek, you will forever be grateful for your relationship with him for giving you your two beautiful boys.

However, for now, you will most likely have to cuddle them to make the day's horrible events go away.

[Masterlist]

#derek hale #derek hale x male reader #Derek Hale Request #derek hale one-shot #teen wolf #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf request #teen wolf one-shot #x male reader #male reader #Eli Hale #Lydia Martin #Jackson Whittemore

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inlovewhithafairytale · 2 years ago

Text

First time you ever listen to me.

So this is an imagine that I wrote at 1am and I feel is not good at all. But here it is.

Warning: there are mentions of drowning

Yn was stiles stilinskis adopted sister. Being 2 years younger than him made stiles want to protect her from everything that had started to happen in their life's.

Yn was adopted by the stilinski family when she was 4, having been abandoned in a random house she had been brought to the sheriff's station. That day the sheriff's son was there and took a liking to the sweet shy 4 year old. The sheriff and his wife had always wanted to have more kids but couldn't so when Claudia met the little girl who had dark brown eyes and a sweet smile she completely fell in love with her and begged along with stiles to the sheriff to keep the girl.

So that's how you stilinski began her life, she was a smart kid who always had a smile on her pretty little face, but she always liked to be with her big brother no matter what, and stiles liking to have her around at all times placidly complied. When stile and yn met Scott they became inseparable and it was usual to see the two bigger boys and a young girl playing together.

Yn was close to her adoptive mother so when she became sick, and had to stay in the hospital it became normal to all the nurses and doctors to see brunett little girl with a small bouquet of flowers walking toward the room A13

When Claudia died when Yn was 8 she grieved the loss of her mother so bad that the sheriff got worried about the girl who refused to eat and sometimes stayed sitting staring at a wall, her mind somewhere else. Since then Yn became even closer to Stiles and every night she would go to his room holding Mr.bear and climb up to his side.

Years went by and Yn had a pretty normal life till her dear brother decided to go search for a dead body in the woods. That nightt was the time Yn's life would change for ever from that day on she had been included into her best friend's mayhem. Him becoming a werewolf, werewolf hunters, Derek. And the most recent supernatural creature. Kanima. Except they didn't know it was a kanima then.

Yn had been included in the plan to get the bestiary, which they had all formed to see what was the creature who had been lately roaming the streets of beacon hills. The plan didn't really go as expected and yn found herself by the swimming pools.

She had heard voices and went to see who was there. She came into the room just in time to see stiles and Derek go under the water, she went to help them, but her path was intercepted when a horrendous creature in all fours and a tail, pretty much like a lizard. She screamd and ran the other way. She though she could get out of there safely when she heard a snap and felt something slice slightly the back of her neck, right when she was beside the diving pool.

Yn felt her limbs go numb and she fell into the water.

Stiles had just resurfaced. When he though he heard a scream but he couldn't have actually heard it while holding a splashing and very much useless Derek up

"Did you hear that?" Stiles asked Derek whilst holding him up, which became more complicated by the minute.

" couldn't have heard anything while I was bellow the water" he gruffly answered.

Well you're not the one holding us both up"

Derek just grunted in reply when he saw the Kanima wasn't near their pool.

"Where's the lizard?" He asked trying to turn around.

"It was right ther- what's it doing near the diving pool?" Stiles started cutting himself out as he saw the lizard like creature looking into the water one pool away

"You can't expect me to answer that do you?" Replied a very annoyed Derek spitting water our of his mouth.

While stiles and Derek were complaining, Yn was fighting against her own body to get to the surface. She felt her lungs where going to explode as she begged her body to function, but she had kanima venom in her system and it wouldn't wear off in a while. She tried to think, to scream for help knowing that Stiles would come and get her. But the only thing that got out of her mouth were boubles as she sank further in. She felt her head go dizzy at the lack of oxygen. But she refused to open her mouth till the very last moment. She felt herself grow tired as she felt he lungs would collapse, and she let the water in. After a while she didn't feel anything. She fought against the darkness that tried to consume her. She though about her family, her new friends, of her future life. And for a while, it helped her fight. But she soon realized none one was coming to save her. That maybe it was for the better altogether, she'd miss her family. But it was for the better. It was all for the better. And then she closed her eyes and let the darkness consume her.

Stiles felt himself being pulled out of the water and into the ground. He grunted as he hit the floor and he heard derek grunt as well as he fell beside him. Stiles looked up at Scott " thank God, I was wondering when you'd come!"

His best friend gave him a small smile down at him.

" it was a kanima, " Derek said" that's why it turned around when it saw its reflection"

"Where did you leave Yn?" Asked stiles sitting up.

" what do you mean? I left her here with you?" Scott replied furrowing his eyebrows at the boy

"No Scott she left with you." Stiles started to get worried

"Stiles when I leaved I left her here"

"Stiles didn't you say you heard something?" Derek asked him stiffly sitting up

"Yes, I thought I heard a-"Stiles cutting himself up when the truth hit him "oh my God" he quickly lifted himself in his feet and ran toward the diving pool" God please don't let her be in the pool" he quietly muttered to himself.

Scott had quickly followed him helping Derek up.

But surly stiles saw at the bottom the frame of a body. He didn't think twice abou diving in. He quickly took the small frame in his arms and swam back up.

He pulled Yn's body out. Scott looked down at the girl and saw that her lips where blue and her face deadly pale.

Stiles saw it to but he denied the truth, he gently shook Yns body

"Yn common wake up" he said" please don't live me, Yn please common baby wake up" he gently slapped her face but nothing, stiles felt fear gripp him" no, no no no, common Yn, you need to wake up".

Scott was already on the phone calling an ambulance and Derek, being the adult of the group, he quickly took stiles arm." Start doing Cpr"

Stiles could vaguely remember how he started pounding aging Yn chest"one,two, three..." and giving her mouth to mouth. He didn't remember how the tears slid down his cheeks as he tried to bring back to life his little sister.

He started sobbing when he saw she wasn't answering any of his pleads for her to fight. He hit her chest when a gentle cough came from the girls blue lips as the ambulances sirens was heard in the distance.

His eyes widened and he looked back to Scott who had been o the phone whith his mom and giving stiles directions on how to keep doing the CPR properly. " mom she coughed"

" her heartbeat's slow" derek told him and in that moment the paramedics burst through the pool room and to Yns side.

Stiles didn't remember how he ended up in the ambulance in the way to the hospita, holding yn-s cold hand in his. Or how his dad had to hold him from going in with the paramedics while they took Yn to a room to try and bring her back because her heart had stopped again.

Stiles sobbed into his dad's shoulder, dripping wet as he was " it'll be all right Stiles" his dad tried to comfort him when the truth was he was as scared as his son, that they would lose Yn.

Scott was whith them in the waiting room with his mom ad well as Lydia, Allison, Isaac and Derek, who had arrivquickly after Scott's mom called them. They were all extremely worried for the girl that had brought so much happiness into their life's with her shy way, the way she smiled and the way she was always there for people when they needed someone.

Aftera few minutes the doctor came out with sober look in his face. " we're sorry but Yn haven't survived." Everyone in the waiting room gasped at the words, everyone's eyes watered at the though that such a young life would be ended so unexpectedly. Stiles looked up tears falling from his eyes.

" Can I see her?" He asked quietly as he cleaned his cheeks from tears only for new ones to take place.

The doctor nodded and stiles went into the room where his sister laid motionless. He chocked a sob put as he looked at the once face that was so full of life a few hours ago.

"Why did you leave?" He whispered to her." Please fight, Yn I need you, please, you can't go. Don't live me like mom did."

Stiles took her hand in his and gently squeezed it as he cleaned his face with the sleeve of his shirt, only to realize he was still wet form half hour ago.

Then out of nowhere a gasp came from Yns lips and she shot up from where she laid . Stiles jumped away from her in surprise and the doctor and his dad rushed to the door of the room to see what was happening.

"Yn?" Siles whispered to his supposed dead sister.

When Yn turned to him stiles saw that her eyes were glowing violet but quickly faded to their natura brown color when she saw him.

"Stiles" she gasped out before stiles tackled her in a hug holding her close.

" I thought you were dead" he said against her damp hair.

"I heard you telling me to fight"

" well first time you ever listen to anything I say" he muttered holding her tighter against him.

So part 2? This took me so long to write. Hope you guys like it

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nouearth · 4 months ago

Text

candy-wasted.

john krasinski x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. with halloween coming to a disappointing end, what's a better way to end the holiday than to get candy-wasted on john's offer of his king-sized candy bar?

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.7k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 domestic!au 〳 halloween!au 〳 husband!john 〳 established relationship 〳 kissing 〳 sexual content: top!john, bottom!reader, anal penetration, rough!sex, no prep, breeding, spitting, blowjob (r!giving), pain kink, slapping, spanking, armpit fetish, humiliation, degradation, body worship, cock worship, over-stimulation, extremely hung!john.

“Think that might be the last of ‘em,” John said, shutting the front door and turning off the porch light. “Not a single Lydia Deetz, Ennui, Deadpool, or Wolverine costume in sight.”

It was Halloween night.

Declaring Halloween as your favorite holiday would be unjust to the true fanatics. More than anything, you loved the celebration for the atmosphere. You loved the smell of autumn coming into full bloom by virtue of artificial cinnamon and apple in soy candles rather than the fresh leaves withering outside. You loved driving by neighborhoods to see all the houses that had been decorated, fictionalizing a house-decorating competition in the process. You loved how spooky TV would get, from horror movies to reruns of old sitcom episodes that had a Halloween theme.

Most important of all, you loved taking your kids out to trick or treat with John, watching them outgrow their costumes every year and growing teary-eyed at the likelihood that they’d eventually stop having you and John come along with them in favor of their friends.

Even though you mentally prepared yourself for the moment, you weren’t expecting this year to be the time where your son and daughter would tell you that they would be sleeping over at a friend’s for the celebration. As if there was any option for you and John to protest too, it suddenly struck you how quickly they were becoming their own person, because they had already packed their bags the night before.

But also—damn you, for raising them to be so direct.

When John returned back to the couch, you glanced at the bowl.

“Do kids these days not go trick-or-treating anymore? We’re doing less refills than usual,” You took the half-empty bowl from him and rummaged through the assorted candy bars. “When I was a kid, I used to circle my neighborhood multiple times because I was determined to not end the night with a barren bucket. I also knew my parents would steal from my stash whenever I was asleep, so that was another incentive to prolong the pain in my little kid legs.”

You knew you were babbling and were beyond caring. From the smile John gave you, he seemed more entertained by the endless vault of childhood stories than the horror marathon you two had started since six o’clock in the evening.

“All those candy runs seem to be paying off considering your calves are the size of bowling balls,” John laughed, arranging your legs to lay them across his lap as you resumed lounging. To prove his point, he began unzipping your costume’s pant leg one-by-one, ventilating your ankles and calves finally free from the tight spandex.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the draft in the air chilled the sweat on your skin, then another, when John’s large hands began stroking and kneading at your legs. You probably should have guessed that John had other intentions in mind since his hands only traveled north, in which your calves were nowhere to be found.

But what would be the fun in calling out your lover’s extremely apparent advances? For a brief moment, you two sat in silence, putting the TV on mute because the marathon had run its course, but also to hear the sound of John’s hands, calloused, warm, and large over the plane of your body, exploring you and the ribbed costume like he was learning texture for the first time.

It had been quite a long time since it was this quiet in the house. You had to have accidentally said it out loud, or John’s telepathic abilities were only awakened on Halloween night, because he was looking at you like you had whet his appetite, hazel eyes cataloguing your body like it was a dirty magazine, lips bitten in secrecy.

“What’s on your mind, Captain America?” You let your legs wrap around John’s waist when he pulled you to sit on his lap, fixing his tousled hair with a smooth swoop of your hand, and affectionately squeezed his large shoulders after.

God, John filled out his costume so well. No wonder you couldn’t stop glancing at him throughout the night, the tactical suit made him look much larger and imposing—you couldn’t help but run your hands all over his body and his tight muscles beneath the fabric, the contoured lines of the costume was practically inviting you to do so.

“I’m thinking… the neighborhood is quiet. I’m thinking that the kids are preparing for bed, and that the parents are drunk off their children’s candy stash, which means you can finally take it easy for tonight, Spider-Man.” John’s smile was terribly broad. You could feel him fiddling with the pull tab on the back of your costume with one hand while the other was caressing the side of your thigh, nearing dangerously closer to your rump.

It was a cheap costume that ran for no more than forty bucks, which meant you could feel the heat radiating off of John’s palm.

“Take it easy? I’ve been taking it easy. I got my popcorn, some king-sized candy bars, a scary flick, a rather inquisitive man holding me…” You shivered when his hand paused on your right buttock and squeezed. “Nothing’s beating this right now.”

He began kissing your neck, his beard ticklish and feathery over your flesh. “Really? Nothing at all?” Both of his hands were on your rump now, massaging tenderly at the handful of thick flesh in his palms.

You must have indulged in the warmth and strength of John’s grip on you for far too long, because out of the blue, he began knocking the silence out of you with strong smacks to your ass, drawing out a collection of moans and grunts from you as he fixated on marking up your neck until your mouth was in vicinity.

When his strong palms came down onto your cheeks again, your lips parted at the right moment he would seize them, capturing your mouth for a slow, languid kiss. John’s lips tasted like a celebration. You could feel the crumbs of sugar from the fruit ropes he was eating prior roll off his lips and onto your tongue, flavoring the kiss of green apple. You moaned, gently holding at both ends of his jaw, while your hips grew conscious of how your body was reacting to John’s tongue invading your mouth, pressing your growing tent against his pelvis with slow rolls, pushing your ass out to meet his hands.

“Nothing at all, unless…” You groaned when the stinging over your covered ass was only heightened by the unrelenting grasp John had on your ample skin. If he wasn’t so busy tonguing your mouth open, you wouldn’t be surprised to find him tearing your costume into two within the next second. “You have something to bestow upon me?”

“Ever heard of a monster-sized candy bar? I got one that’s filled with vanilla cream for you, specifically curated to your taste buds. What do you think? I’ll trade ya’.” The spirit of Halloween affected him as he laughed into the kiss, the tip of his nose crinkling in effect and swiping over yours when he resumed in exploring your mouth.

“I think it sounds like a trick, you a con-man?” You lightly pushed at his chest to break from the kiss, then lingered to silently admire his well-built pecs. You weren’t sure if you were more turned on by John’s hard-work and dedication, or the fantasy of him as a superhero—saving you from your ultimate demise.

Regardless, your hips only rutted harder, swooping low to brush your erection against his, then raising them high, to grind your rump over his arousal.

“Keep moving your hips like that, and you’ll find the answer soon.”

An inquisitive hand of yours reached in between John’s thighs. It didn’t take long, hardly a millisecond, to find what you’d been searching for.

The mass in your palm was overwhelmingly large and thick. You felt your throat go dry when the weight of John’s bulge was heavy enough to unfurl itself within his suit, across his right thigh, and reach to a point of hardness where one hand of yours found it impossible to tame it alone.

You stroked the enormous print, focusing on the apparent head with your thumb, and then squeezed. Hard.

“Fuck, (M/N). Upstairs, now.”

As you sat on your knees, the scent of arousal filled your nostril. There was something enthralling about this position, being bare and naked on the carpet, while you were looking up at John’s hard cock through your lashes. He was already monstrous enough, but the angle from below provided insight just exactly how jaw-dropping his size was.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Captain. What would you like in exchange?” Bracing your hands on his strong calves, you nuzzled the underside of his erection. You sucked in a breath at the smell of it. The heat and musk built from a long day of work, finally released out into the air, tickled your nose pleasantly and made your mouth water. “‘Three musketeers?’ ‘Butterfingers?’ ‘Hershey’s?’” You slapped his heavy cock over your lips, mouthing over the tender spots of his glans.

He had his arms behind his head, exhaling slow and steady, sporting an expression that told you he was the luckiest man alive, not that you needed that affirmation, as you held his cock tight around the base and suckled at the plump, pink tip. “How about ‘(M/N)’s Pieces?’ Yeah? Is that up for grabs?”

You could feel his hairy thighs tense up when you taunted him with the tiniest licks over his heavy, full balls. It was amusing, watching his cock jolt over your face—like they were envious of such half-hearted actions.

“You mean, the candy that would make a kind and handsome dad, such as yourself, turn into a ferocious beast of a man?” Holding John’s lustful gaze, you took a long and slow lick at the underside of his shaft, the girth of it thicker than the width of your tongue.

You felt complacent when he let out a hoarse moan upon pressing your nose deep into his cock-slit, inhaling deep. “Yeah, that one…”

You traced the prominent veins on his cock with your tongue—thick, pumping blood vessels that made him throb over your mouth with rage. “You know, you’d have to work really hard…” Between fondling and suckling his full sack into your mouth, you stroked his shaft and muttered, “To break me into pieces.”

It was difficult enough to maintain some semblance of order, but the taste of John’s sweat, blooming delicately and stimulating your appetite like an hors d’oeuvre, made you nearly submit as your knees felt inclined to spread wider, and wider, letting you enjoy your last moments before you’d yield.

You hoped you were distracting John enough, being caught in the middle of humping the air and fucking yourself back on some imaginary dick would’ve gave him the upper hand.

“I do—oh, fuck…” He choked back on a moan, the heat of your mouth as you suddenly slid his cock inside melted the composure off his face. His thick shaft strained, stretching your wet mouth uncomfortably. The chances of you taking all of John inside of your mouth was slim to none. You’d done this so many times, tried everything, from practicing with a dildo to enduring the tears welling, to get him down your throat, but your body wouldn’t give in—it simply couldn’t.

He was much too big for your own good.

John was large. Tall. Always has been, and always will be. His muscular legs were open wide, his face was slack-jawed from your tantalizing tongue, and even though you could barely fit half of his cock inside of your mouth, you were still in control.

You pulled him out with a gasp, nearly choking back on the spit pooled in the back of your mouth, and sniffled. “You do? You sure about that?” There was no doubt that the inevitable was going to happen. Gagging on John’s large cock was a given, but it was the messiness of it all, that made your cock leak. “I don’t think you can handle it.”

His cock was coated thick and heavy in a glorious sheen of spit, translucent pearls shining on the veiny skin. One hand was massaging his balls while the other was adamant in slicking him up until the weight of your own saliva was enough to weigh him down.

You temporarily freed John from your fist to slap his wet and large cock around. It was delectable, watching his giant tool swing from the impact of your smacks. Webs of thick spit occasionally flung to your face, as if his dick was fighting back against your horrendous taunts, but all you needed to do was tame it with your mouth again, and the reign on John’s body resumed.

“I am, and I can…” John grunted, his abdominal muscles flexing. You could see his toes curling into the carpet at the corner of your eye, swirling your tongue over the swollen pink head while the rest of his monster cock was being man-handled by your quick hand, tightly grasping to keep your hand from slipping.

“You absolutely sure?” Your words turned him on, his cock maddening in course as it spat out drips of pre-cum from the squeezing grip you had around his shaft.

The substance wouldn’t stance a chance against your urges, you eagerly went on to lap it up, forcing more of the viscous fluid to come out with competitive strokes to aid.

“I’m sure—baby, come on, enough—“ He struggled to contain his moans, arching his hip forward to push himself further into your mouth, but you wouldn’t have it. Instead, you reeled yourself back, slapping his cock once again as punishment, and remained at tip’s length.

You could tell he was getting frustrated, you knew of his mannerisms for years now. For God’s sake, you were his husband. His jaw tightened and his eyes leered down at you with sudden alert—like a silent warning. He exhaled sharply as if the draft in the room had infected his strong body with frostbite.

Nonetheless, you continued entertaining yourself, knowing the consequences—anticipating them, rather.

You tongued the urethra of his dick, welcoming every drop with greedy sucks, all while you hadn’t left John out of your sight for a single second. You could make John orgasm right then, you were so sure of it.

“You really, really, really sure?” Your smile was smug, feigning innocence while you mouthed on his thick piece of meat, stroking yourself to the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from his tip.

John’s gaze immediately darkened.

He loved watching you slap his dick across your face. He loved being in awe at his own size, especially when you’d shower him in praises as you compared his big cock to your forearm.

I’m going to break my ass taking you, John. Holy fuck…

He loved having his dick sucked, point blank period. How sloppy it could get, how nice his cock felt when it was being slimed up with such pent-up arousal. You were confident that you were over-delivering in that department too because the lower half of your face was dripping in your own saliva.

“What’s the matter, big man? You don’t want to fuck me anymore? Break me into pieces like you originally wanted to? Think you won’t satisfy me enough?” You pursed your lips over the plump head, provoking John by the sudden languid pace of your wrist. “Answer me,” You slapped his large cock again, your own erection throbbing from watching John grit his teeth in sudden refusal to give in.

“Are you sure or not? Huh? Answer me,” John sucked in his teeth every time you smacked his cock, and you proceeded to hound him harder, narrowing your tone. “Your cock’s useless. Can’t satisfy me. Can’t satisfy a fucking flashlight with how big it is.”

“Ghoul got your tongue, or what?” You smacked his cock hard. “Your big fucking cock—” His cock swung. “—seems to be doing—” Pulsed in a fit of pique. “the speaking for y—“

A harsh slap cut your taunts short.

You let out a gasp, your hand instantly coming up to hold your cheek and tranquilize the stinging pain. Shock crossed your face, bewildered as though you hadn’t been anticipating his catharsis the entire time.

“Enough,” He pulled you up by the jaw to meet your lips hungrily, his large hands clamped tight around your neck like you were fresh carp farmed for hatchery. “You’re really testing me today, aren’t you?”

The kiss was searing, your lips volunteering themselves to be bitten and sucked to be forgiven upon the increasing pressure around your throat. Maybe you were still coming to terms with the slap, but it swallowed you whole nonetheless, rendering you incapable of producing a single coherent thought.

You whimpered softly, his resentment was beyond recall as his hands remained solid, one thumb looming over the center of your throat, “Hit me again—“

He stabilized you with one hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and let his other hand swing across your cheek, harder than previously.

“F-fuck!” You could feel your cheek blooming with heat, stinging as if a million of rose thorns had prickled your skin to poison you with its color, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

It was too good. John’s large hand imprinted hot on your face, and it felt too fucking good. You were branded, an extension to the wedding band around your finger, a reminder of your undying love for him.

“Get on the fucking bed,” John growled, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth, slow yet imposing, before sending you away with a gentle kiss on your stricken cheek, a much-needed relief you had been silently clamoring for.

The metal clanking behind you sounded like church bells, but you resisted the temptation of looking over your shoulder, fearing that whatever John had in mind, he’d strip it away upon your lack of diligence. You crawled onto the bed on all fours and anticipated nervously

At long last, you felt your royal throne crumble into a million pieces.

You suppressed an urge to swear. The heat emanating from a strip of leather when he struck your ass was bartered directly with the devil himself. Another peep out of you, and John would’ve banished you to hell to pay your dues to the fallen angel.

“It was cute, I have to admit…” Your body jolted when John muttered near your hear. In the time his hand was soothing your whipped ass cheeks, the other had a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back for you to look at him. “Seeing you think you had control over me, even going as far as to humiliate me and my cock—did that make you happy? Huh?”

“I-I don’t know—“ You struggled to find the words, your mouth parting instead to lean in for a kiss in hopes to distract him, but John quickly caught on. He knew you, very well in fact, yanking your head back harder to coax a gasp out of you. As John had expected, he then pushed a thick wad of spit into your mouth before pulling you by the back of your neck into your original position.

You shuddered, smacking your lips at the arousing taste of John’s saliva spreading in your mouth. You savored him, wanted John to last forever on your tongue. You didn’t want to swallow. You wanted to simply let his spit pool with your own and mix into the perfect elixir that would work perfectly as a muscle relaxant, something that would greatly aid you in taking John’s cock—knowing the likelihood that he wouldn’t be easing up anytime soon.

“Answer me.” Your eyes widened in a silent plea when John taunted you with the belt in his hand. Before you could moan out so much of a beg, the leather in John’s hand came down swinging at your buttocks and seemingly cut through flesh. In turn, your four limbs gave out from the electrifying bolts of pain, making you collapse onto your stomach from the arresting strength of John’s resentment as you cried out in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck! F-fuck, fuck, fuck…!” You writhed in bittersweet glory, choking back on swears and instead, what came out were delicious straggled sounds that made John’s cock uncontrollably pulse. Your hands roamed the bedsheets, clawing at the silk material in search for a physical outlet to release the tension in your body. “I-I’m s-sorry—“

His cock was near you, lubed up in a thick, alluring sheen. Maybe John wouldn’t mind if you held him. Plead for him to stop with lazy, but abiding stroke. You bit your lips and stretched over to grab him.

He lifted your head again for you to face him. You sniffled, letting the tears roll down your flushed face before another wad of spit would accompany them in their journey. “You’re not answering my question. Were you happy?”

Upon barely brushing your fingers over the head of his cock, you reeled yourself back when the belt came striking down on your ass again, breaking skin as repercussions to your hedonistic behavior. Your legs came up to kick back at the air violently, grinding out the pain by digging your swollen cock into the bed.

You had enough.

You needed John.

Now.

“Y-yes! I was fucking happy! Watching your large cock swing like that. Degrading you to the point where you were too ashamed to answer me. Abusing your pathetic tool because it’s too immersed in its own girth to know that I actually despise your cock. Should’ve seen the look on your handsome face—god, I could’ve came right there. All because I was in control. You fucking let me, you fucking delusional self-obsessed cuck—”

At breakneck speed, John curtailed you of your vigorous speech by shoving your face into a pillow, mounting on top of you with one foot pressing hard to the back of your head, and grunted, “How do you like me now?” Pushing all of his body weight to vault you out of an escape route, you felt his cockhead suddenly breach your hole.

“Holy—shit!” You sobbed at the discomfort, kicking your legs back as John pushed more of his large cock further in, adding onto the painful stretch of your unsuspecting hole. You felt his a palm on your ass, spreading one cheek open to aid the slide. “Fucking, more—Johnny! More, more, more—“

“There we fucking go, fuck. Look at that hole. Fucking swollen around me, and I’m only halfway in,” he licked his lips, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm as he loosened your raw hole with shallow thrusts, his cock pushing deeper at every rut.

Your body’s natural reaction was to propel yourself up for some air, but after the first turn, John instantly took both of your wrists and bound them behind your back, your back muscles squeezing in effect. When you pushed your ass out, his foot pressed harder like it had the power to bury you six feet under if John had no concept of restraint.

It was painful, all of this, your neck was hurting, but especially your hole, his unrelenting thrusts—but, be that as it may, you were so happy that you didn’t have to remind John to leave you unprepared. Otherwise, the pleasure of John’s large cock gutting you raw wouldn’t have overstimulated you, not to this profundity. Your wriggles only made John hold onto your wrists tighter, his heel press deep into your nape, you were sure it would be bruised by the next morning.

You felt so used, your body at his disposal. Your cock was painfully rubbing between your pelvis and the bed from the impact of his strong thrusts, but you were leaking and throbbing nonetheless, staining the sheets from the thrill of it all—of being John’s personal fuck-toy.

“Feels fucking incredible. Shit, baby—“ His cock was digging into you like an excavator, slow in its journey, but you could feel him sowing excitement deep into you, nearing the crown of your prostate with the grind of his hips. You clenched tight, gripping your aching walls around the girth to provide John an incentive to go at you harder.

Not loose enough.

He had to fuck you open.

And you were desperate.

The perks to being married was that pleasuring one another came second nature to both parties. Luckily, you led a charmed life, and John was here to bestow upon you your weekly demands.

He released his foot on you, but you groaned when he pressed his remaining weight on top of your writhing body. “If you’re good…” John panted hot on your shoulders, accompanying the abruptly slow roll of his hips with chaste kisses to the shell of your ear and the moist parts of your neck. “Maybe I’ll let you play with your cock.”

“Please…” You flexed your toes into the sheets when John nearly pulled himself out, thankfully leaving only the swollen tip in.

“No, I had a change of heart. Maybe, I’ll let you jack off until you explode all over your sweaty body,” you pushed your ass back to slide more of him in, but a hard smack to your ass nipped your oscillation in the bud. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’ll be good—promise…” you looked over your shoulder at John with glistening eyes and a sniffle, finding yourself frowning when he pulled himself completely out, and insisted on rubbing his wet cockhead over your raw, blossomed pucker.

“See? This is how it’s supposed to be—the natural order between you and I,” he sighed, giving into your desperation, and pulled you in for a sweet, lingering kiss after releasing your hands. A sigh of relief, you braced yourself half-way up with an elbow, the other hand reaching back to rest on John’s nape, and locked his lips deeply into yours, pacified by the soft fur of his beard on your chin.

His tongue messily swiped over yours as you both had intended to explore each other’s mouths. You two met in the middle, bridging each other’s spit from one mouth to the other. When a dribble of drool dared to leak from the corner of your mouth, John had incredible foresight and was already lapping it up before it could trail to the bottom of your chin.

“Say you love my cock…” John whispered, swaddling you into his arms from behind and carefully maneuvering your body on top of him as he switched positions, reclining himself onto his back.

Interlacing his legs with yours, John then pushed them apart with the spread of his knees, twisting his ankles over your own to lock you in place. He angled his hips to slide his dick over your taint, letting you wallow in the sight of his plump tool nearly curve over your throbbing erection.

“I love your cock…” You muttered softly, nuzzling the side of his kempt beard. The smell of bourbon vanilla lingered delightfully in your nostrils as you watched him from the corner of your eye, drooling when you caught a glance of his large cock spit thick drips of pre-cum over your balls.

It was fruitless to even try to attempt to close your legs, John’s calves overpowered your own by tenfold. In spite of your wish, John compensated by reaching below, trailing his warm hand over your ribs and stomach in passing, and wrapped his hand around your cock, slowly pumping.

“Say, you’ll be a good boy for me…” Brushing your hair back, John claimed a hold over the back of your head, raising his left arm to welcome your face into his armpit.

You moaned at the warm, musky odor. The thick hairs reeked of sweat. Salty and slightly spicy in your nostrils, yet you couldn’t help but inhale for more, breathing in the natural pheromones and making your cock dribble out ample amounts of pre-cum when the aroma of John’s masculine scent fogged your passing judgement, and had you licking at his pit.

John cradled the back of your head, quickening the strokes on your cock seemingly as a token of his appreciation while you buried your face in the bush of dark hairs, nuzzling and licking long stripes over the plane. It was addicting, yet embarrassingly filthy as it registered how easily John had reign over your freewill. Your spit gathered in the center of John’s armpit, where the hairs were grown the thickest. They were beads of your devotion, and you couldn’t have felt prouder marking your territory.

Your mouth watered and tingled at the ripe taste lasting on your tongue, then, when John suddenly tipped your chin up and spat inside of your mouth—you felt like you were in heaven, like your body wanted to crumble in front of him from the intimacy of it all.

He captured your lips again, and you muttered softly, “I’ll be a good boy…” You watched him with lustful eyes, anticipating his next move. His right hand had stopped stroking your cock in favor of massaging your tight balls, making you squirm with desire. When his other hand released his hold over the back of your head to toy with your perky nipples, the simultaneous pleasure carried a hoarse tune of desperation out from your throat.

“You’ll be daddy’s good boy?” He nuzzled your ear, kissing the shell of it.

“I’ll be whatever daddy wants me to be,” you slowly rolled your hips when you could feel John line his cock over your hole, lubing your pucker with the thick fluid leaking from the crown.

“And you want daddy’s big cock?” He rested one hand on each thigh respectively, spreading your legs farther by the aid of his knees.  “I’m aching inside…” Your cock twitched upon feeling so completely vulnerable and bare for him.

“Then, let’s turn that ache into pleasure, shall we?”

That was all it took. A heartbeat, a single push of John’s hips, one strong stroke, and he claimed his territory. It was beautiful. Your silky flesh fluttered and clenched on his cock, and your eyes popped open wide when he slammed upward.

John ripped a glorious moan out of you. Your neck strained with beautiful veins as your attempts to bite them back were powerless in comparison to the spark of passion in John’s hips. You could see the very moment the fire flared in John’s eyes, his fingers gripping a mound of your thighs until they had turned white.

You were filled to the root, uncomfortably-so as John’s biceps bulged with strong veins on account of the bend of your legs. He capsized them, holding them back at the crook while he deliciously hollowed your hole deep with his monster cock, your feet dangling in the air from the pure drive.

It was a reminder. That you were his. That you were his only. Nobody could ever own you like he owned you now. John made sure those thoughts wouldn’t dissipate by making sure you felt every inch of his plump, meaty cock burrow in and out of you. John was adamant in making this more than a memory. He wanted you to wake up and sleep thinking about him. Thinking about his cock. Thinking about how brutally stretched you felt right now, and that you didn’t mind at all—because it was John, your loving husband. He would do anything for you, and right now, he was living up to his many vows of loving you fiercely, of completing you, of loving you forever and every day.

“T-too much, John—“ It wasn’t, you were lying—it was fucking perfect, but god, did you love making your husband feel powerful. You loved feeding his cock with arousal, feeling him throb harder while he pummeled himself faster into you at your spoken truth. “Cock’s too big—“

“I’ll make a cunt out of you, wear out your tight little hole until it’s leaking like one,” He growled. You cried out from unabashed lust, holding your legs back to expose yourself further, and John set the animal free at the depiction. He held your waist, dragging your unsullied hole through his hardness until only the tip was left before connecting the drop of your weight with a powerful thrust, punching into your prostrate.

“That’s what you are, right? My good little cunt? Just a good boy who can do nothing right, but take my large cock.” John gutted loud moans out of you, his gaze locked on your wrecked expression because watching you take his cock was equally as gratifying as sinking himself of you, down to the root. “Say it. Say you want daddy to make a cunt out of you.”

You were falling in love with this animalistic side of John. With the sensations he was supplying and overwhelming you with. Your cock was sure to agree, throttling as if there was a phantom hand stroking its shaft.

“I want—a fucking cunt. Want daddy to make a cunt out of my hole, please—“ You felt deviant, like those words shouldn’t have left your mouth, but it was all the worthwhile because John kissed you hard on the mouth, groaning.

Up to the hilt, John thrusted into faster—harder as you choked back on a moan and nearly gagged on his tongue. “I’m going to fill you up with so much of my cum, you’d be leaking for days.”

“Oh, God—“ You gritted your teeth, exhaling loud and hard because it was coming. Your stomach clenched and your balls tightened without the need of your hand.

“You’d be lucky to walk tomorrow, (M/N). You’d need my help walking you down the stairs. Even then, I wouldn’t be so sure if we’d make it to the floor. Knowing the prospect, I’d just take you right then and there, on the fucking stairwell, making your ass gape once again.”

“John, s-stop—I’m going to—“ Your eyes rolled back until John could only see whites. His words supplied you with the mental picture of the filthy smut coming out of his mouth. It came to you naturally—the smile on your face. You were broken in your state of reverie, dazed by the fantasy of taking John’s cock anywhere and anytime he pleased. Using you however his mind and body desired like he was now. Balls-slapping against your taint, sweat sticking your body to one another, pants and groans loud in your ear, the air thickening with the act of pure lust, pounding into you with no intention in letting you recover your breath. “S-stop, fucking coming—“

“Look at me,” John ordered you, panting.

Your eyes were heavy when you looked up, mere slits from the weight of your desires, heavily drugged by John’s poisoning rapture on your wrecked body. You pressed a smile against his mouth, making no attempt to kiss him, but to simply be in close proximity, pressing his nose against yours. He grappled at your hips, digging your insides with the weight of his large cock, piercing into prostate harder and faster as he took a bargain on your orgasm coming to a near.

You were stunned, the gutting you were enduring from John hitting you like a ton of bricks. You emptied your throat of sounds, the inner walls dry and scratched like the desert. All you managed for John was vigilant whimpers, any more forewarnings were fallen on deaf ears as you’d been knocked into a trance that melted your speech into meek garbles of incoherency.

It only took a few more seconds before your brain rewired itself and had your body floundering within John’s loving embrace, alerting you awake. With the help of John’s cock continuously assaulting deep at your prostate, you felt your body tense up, your hole clenching around pillar John’s pistoning staff to stop him, but he prevailed, breaching through the resistance, and slammed hard into your prostate once more, splitting your ass open and knocking the orgasm out of you.

John held your gaze, marveling over the ecstasy in your otherwise blown-out expression. His brows furrowed in utter fascination as your mouth parted open, only for your moans to adhere to your throat instead, blowing your load in agonizing silence. Thick ropes spurted powerfully out of your throbbing cock, splattering messily over your chest. With the buck of your hips, you graced your face with your cum-shots, additionally provoked as John used the strength of his heels to lift himself to meet you at an elevated height, fucking the cum out of you.

The sound that came out of you was guttural, transporting you into another dimension where you were caught in a whirlpool of toe-curling sensations. Rubbing a hand over your stomach, he could feel it sink in as you liberated yourself from your high, uncontrollably spilling over your pelvis in midst. Yet, despite your dazed state, your eyes never left his, provoking him to come inside of you with desperate, but gentle murmurs on his lips, as well as the addition of the ring of muscle spasming around his shaft.

“Fill my cunt up, make me fucking leak…” You showered his lips in soft whispers, finally releasing your grasp on your legs to stroke at his cheek. Squeezing, caressing, urging—for him to seal your hole.

On the drop of your legs, you squeezed them close together until your knees touched, confining his shaft between the clamp of your inner walls. You clenched hard when he was buried to the root, foiling the pace of his hips, and let your swollen insides bring him closer.

“Oh… shit…” John’s eyes rolled back, and finally spilled with a shudder.

His large cock jerked deep inside of you, and soon, you felt his warm seed fill you to the brim. You felt your bond with John transcend, higher, beyond space and time, with every pulse of his thick veins pumping cum deep into you.

Upon capturing John’s lips for a kiss, he circled his hips, making you moan languidly into his mouth. You swallowed every breath of his, swirling your hips against his own cautious thrusts in retaliation, gratified by the warm, thick coating of cum your insides were receiving, soothing your spellbound hole and stirring his connection to you.

“Didn’t hurt you too bad? Think I slapped you too hard.” John asked softly, gently rubbing a palm over your stricken cheek. You could see guilt in his expression as he brought you closer to claim your lips The moment was soft, the complete opposite of previous events, silent apologies to your mouth as John’s mouth was lingering, yet electrifying all at the same time as he sucked on your lower lip.

“You. Were. Perfect.” You warded off the guilt with a smooch after word, rubbing his chest. “I asked for it, you know that. It was fun, wasn’t it? Something different to spice up the bedroom.”

“Hm…” He laughed at your sudden eagerness, as if you hadn’t been debilitated from his cock moments prior. Tucking one arm behind his head, his other hand idly began petting at your head. He retired for the night with the shut of his eyes, contemplating on their newfound kink. “Let’s see how I feel when you’re the one slapping me next time. Then we can judge it accordingly.”

“Holy shit…”

“Mhm.” “I’m pulling out the dumbbells. Too late to go back on your word now, John.”

“Wait, now that you—“

“Not a single word, or I’m making you call me ‘Doctor’ as an early punishment.”

“We both know how this will turn out. I just need to pull my dick out, and you’ll be back onto your knees, no matter how much you try to resist.”

“I… plead the fifth?”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#john krasinski x male reader #john krasinski x reader #john krasinski x you #john krasinski x m!reader #john krasinski imagine #john krasinski smut #male reader #x male reader #x reader #m!reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #x you #x you smut #x reader smut #reader insert #nou.fics

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geotjwrs · 1 month ago

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Could I request a fanfic featuring a male reader x Jenna, where they are co-stars in Beetlejuice 2? The story follows the trope "she fell first, but he fell harder." Jenna falls for the reader during filming, but later, the reader also falls for her—and much harder.

i like you, i do

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The lights on set flickered as another take wrapped up. You were in your full costume—black and white pinstripes, messy hair, and green makeup smeared across your face as you played your role in Beetlejuice 2. The director’s voice echoed across the set, calling for a quick break before the next scene. You glanced at Jenna Ortega, your co-star, who had been absolutely killing it as Lydia’s daughter.

From the moment filming had started, you noticed something different about her. Jenna had an infectious energy, always professional and kind to everyone on set. She had a knack for slipping into character instantly, but off-camera, she was the first to crack a joke or offer a smile. There was something magnetic about her, but you chalked it up to her being a talented actress.

What you didn’t realize was that she had started to notice you too.

Jenna had always been good at keeping things professional, but over the past few weeks, something had shifted. Maybe it was the long hours spent on set together or the easy banter you shared between takes. You didn’t see it, but every time you made her laugh, her eyes lingered on you a little longer. When you walked past her, she couldn’t help but follow you with her gaze.

It was subtle at first—the way she’d find excuses to sit next to you during lunch breaks, the small comments she’d make about how great your performance was that day. It wasn’t until one night, during an after-hours shoot, that you noticed something had changed.

You were waiting for the next setup, leaning against a prop table and going over your lines. Jenna walked up beside you, her face still smeared with a bit of makeup from her last scene. She was dressed in Lydia’s iconic goth aesthetic, but the soft smile she gave you was worlds away from the character she was playing.

“Tired?” she asked, her voice casual, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes.

You smiled back, shrugging. “A bit. But you know how it is—long days come with the job.”

Jenna tilted her head, her gaze flickering over your face like she was seeing something no one else could. “You’re doing amazing with the role, though. Really. I’ve seen you work on other films, but this… I don’t know, it just feels like you’ve completely embodied the character.”

You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. You’ve been killing it as Lydia’s daughter.”

She smiled at your compliment but didn’t look away this time. “You ever think about what happens after the movie wraps up?”

You furrowed your brow, not sure where the conversation was heading. “What do you mean?”

Jenna shrugged, her hand absentmindedly brushing against yours as she leaned on the table. “I don’t know… We’ve spent a lot of time together, and it’s been fun. But what happens when we’re not filming together every day?”

There was a weight behind her words that caught you off guard. You blinked, glancing at her, and for a second, it felt like the air between you changed. You hadn’t thought much beyond the movie. Sure, you got along great, but this was a job—at least, that’s what you had told yourself. But now, with Jenna looking at you like that, you couldn’t deny the connection building between the two of you.

“I guess we just… move on to the next project,” you said, though the words sounded hollow as they left your mouth.

Jenna’s gaze flickered down, and for a moment, you thought you saw something like disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly covered it with a soft laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The conversation ended, but it left you thinking. Over the next few days, you started to notice all the little things you had been ignoring—the way Jenna would glance your way when she thought you weren’t looking, how she’d laugh a little harder at your jokes, the way she’d linger after filming when everyone else had gone home. It was subtle, but it was there.

You didn’t want to assume anything, though. Maybe she was just being friendly. Maybe you were imagining it. But then, one night after filming, she invited you to hang out at a small diner nearby. It was just the two of you, and the conversation flowed as easily as it did on set, but this time, it felt more personal.

At one point, as you both laughed about some behind-the-scenes mishap, Jenna’s smile faded slightly, and she looked at you with that same look from before—the one that felt like it was asking more than what her words said.

“You know,” she began quietly, “I wasn’t sure about this movie when I first signed on. But meeting you… it’s made it better.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes now. She liked you. And for the first time, you realized you liked her too. You hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on your own work to notice, but now that it was in front of you, you couldn’t ignore it.

But even then, you hadn’t fallen yet—not completely.

It wasn’t until the last few weeks of filming that you started falling, and you fell hard. The more time you spent with Jenna, the more you realized how much you loved being around her. She was funny, down-to-earth, and despite her fame, she never let it get to her head. Every moment with her felt easy, natural. You found yourself looking forward to her texts after a long day of shooting, smiling when her name popped up on your phone.

You’d catch yourself thinking about her at random moments—during rehearsals, on your way home, even when you were supposed to be focusing on other things. It was like everything about her had crept under your skin, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling.

One evening, after a particularly emotional scene, you were both walking off set when she stopped you.

“Hey,” she called softly.

You turned to see Jenna standing just a few feet away, a soft, almost nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet, biting her lip before she spoke again.

“I need to tell you something,” she began, her voice almost timid. “I… I’ve liked you for a while now. I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. But now that the movie’s almost over, I don’t want to miss my chance. I really like you, Y/N.”

For a second, you stood there, stunned. She had fallen first. All this time, she had been waiting for you to catch up. And now that she had said it out loud, the weight of your own feelings hit you like a tidal wave.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding as you looked at her. “Jenna… I didn’t realize it until now, but I like you too. A lot. Maybe even more than I should.”

Her eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across her face, one that made your heart race even faster.

Before you could say anything else, she closed the distance between you and pressed her lips to yours. It wasn’t a rushed kiss—it was slow, sweet, filled with all the feelings that had been building between you both for months.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, both of you breathless but smiling.

“Guess I fell harder than I thought,” you admitted with a grin.

Jenna laughed softly, her arms wrapping around your waist. “I think we both did.”

From that moment on, things were different. You and Jenna had found something special, something neither of you expected when you first started filming. It wasn’t just about the movie anymore—it was about each other.

Filming wrapped up a few weeks later, and while you both moved on to new projects, your relationship stayed strong. The chemistry you had on set carried over into real life, and no matter how busy things got, you always found time for each other.

And every once in a while, when you caught Jenna looking at you with that same soft smile, you’d remind yourself just how lucky you were to have fallen for her—because while she might have fallen first, you definitely fell harder.

#dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot #jenna ortega #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Tread Carefully ~ S.S.

Request: “Stiles x male reader, reader getting hurt trying to protect stiles from a werewolf” by anon

Word Count: 1400+

MASTERLIST

Stiles had been harboring a crush on Lydia Martin for as long as he could remember. Even longer than Scott had known about it; and that was ages. So when he actually became friends with her, he'd thought he'd had a chance.

And then she'd dated Allison.

If he was honest, Stiles really hadn't ever considered that before. I mean yeah, he knew about queer people. But every time he brought it up, people had brushed it off and dismissed it. Stiles especially just wasn't - according to everyone. So he had never thought about it, until his old crush became one of his best friends and then she was taking about it all the time. Telling him about how happy she was, and when he asked, about how she'd realized she was into women. And suddenly he realized something he'd never considered before: he'd one hundred percent had a crush on Scott when they were kids.

He didn't tell anyone for a long time. Well, anyone but Lydia. She was a fantastic confidante and an even better secret keeper. And she was good at keeping Stiles' sexuality a secret... until he developed a crush on her brother.

Y/n Martin was very different than his sister. They were a unit, they always had been, but where Lydia leaned into expectation to make herself popular and as perfect as possible, Y/n had leaned away from it. He didn't have a lot of friends, outside of the kids in the programming club, and some people he'd met over the internet. He was the type that knew high school was stupid, and thought that made him a little bit cooler than everyone else.

Stiles thought he was awesome. Y/n was putting as little effort into school as possible, focused less on college and more on learning to program and prepping himself to just do that forever. He was smart, which meant he knew that school didn't actually teach you anything you needed to know - as long as you knew what you were heading into. He often talked Lydia's ear off about how school was just preparing you to be part of the machine of society, and rolled his eyes when Lydia tried to get him into a "better outfit" or take him shopping.

But that was actually why Stiles liked him. They had math together, and Y/n made jokes under his breath and talked about how stupid it all was, and then leaned over and gave him pointers and help with the work in a way he could actually understand. He never ran out of patience and didn't find Stiles' burst of energy or hard time focusing or burn out annoying. He encouraged Stiles and hyped him up and when he did a good job and Y/n was leaning over his shoulder grinning at him, whispering compliments to him and joking about having to reward him one of these days, Stiles couldn't help but think that all he wanted in that moment was to kiss him.

Lydia picked up on it too fast. She was at first a little hesitant, making Stiles promise this wasn't about her, because her brother deserved better than being a replacement, but Stiles promised that wasn't it. And he proved it too, even if the pining looked the same. He talked to Y/n and became friends with him and fought against werewolves and other big-bads, and they bonded over being the only two just-humans on the team, but Stiles never reached out to him to tell him how he felt. Stiles didn't want anything from Y/n that he didn't want to offer; which was sweet except Lydia wanted to see her best friend and her brother happy.

So what was she to do except play match maker?

Her butting in was helping, too. Y/n was telling her all the time now about how he liked Stiles, how well they got along, all the stuff they were doing together. About his eyes and his smile and his laugh and how brave he was. About how they made so many plans together and learned to trust each other. About how nice his voice was, and how they studied together and often fell asleep late into the night and woke up next to each other.

And yet... it took Y/n almost dying for either of them to do anything about it.

It was a shit storm like all the others they had to live through. A battle, injuries all around, and Stiles and Y/n trying to find each other because this time they'd gotten separated. It was never good when those two got separated, they were both idiots.

Something that showed more than ever when Y/n rushed into the room, saw Stiles being cornered by a werewolf, and screamed at the top of his lungs. It was a faceless beast at this point, mind controlled by a spell that a witch had cast. She was making their lives hell, and this was only the most recent of poor bastards that had been mind controlled and sent their way. The only way to break the spell was to find the object that mattered to them most and destroy it. This worked because the witch had to cast the spell on such an object, and destroying it broke the spell. But she was aware of this, so she often sent her subjects after whoever found or had the object at the moment.

And right now, that person was Y/n.

So the werewolf turned, getting on all fours and shooting after the teenager, who's eyes went wide as he turned sharply and began barreling down the hallway as quickly as he could. It was a ploy to save Stiles' life, and it was a good one, but it couldn't last forever. The werewolf swiped at him, sending him flying one way and the thing he was carrying flying the other way. Derek arrived that moment, having been tied up before, and managed to fight the creature off while Stiles scrambled onto the scene and burned the object.

It was over.

But the damage had been done.

The pack brought them to Deaton, who immediately launched into stitching the poor boy up and lathering something on him to fight infection and help him heal faster. Then they were all left to simply wait and hope Y/n would wake up. He still had a heartbeat, but shock had hit his system and he still might not make it. A lot of blood lost, a really bad concussion...

Stiles of course never left Y/n's side. Y/n woke up to the boy asleep on his little make shift hospital bed, head on Y/n's leg, holding his hand. Y/n smiled, exhausted and sore and feeling like shit, but unable to deny that Stiles still looked adorable when he was asleep. Y/n ran his hand through Stiles' hair and the boy jolted up. "Oh." He blinked sleep out of his eyes, rubbing his face and shaking his head to clear it. "Hey."

Y/n laughed. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Y/n joked. His voice croaked from disuse and he flinched. "Jesus I sound like I died."

Stiles' smile withered. "You almost did."

There was silence at that. They couldn't meet each others' eyes, couldn't pass that stiffness and awkwardness. Neither of the boys were good with silence and always tried to scramble to crack jokes or entertain or cheer up, but Stiles' bluntness had shattered that. And it was kind of nice. Vulnerable.

"Stiles," Y/n began. "I... liked you." He sighed, shoulders dropping. "Like, really really like you. And I know it might ruin everything, and I don't want you to say you like me back because I almost died. I don't even need you to say anything right now, just, know I like you. And everyone knows you've always liked my sister but-"

At that, Stiles broke. He caught Y/n's face between his hand and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed, smiling into it, and all the unspoken things seemed to be understood without any of the words needing to be said. They often communicated like this, with just an understanding, and no need for specifics or long rants. Leaning their foreheads together, Stiles still did say one thing. "I like you too." They both laughed, and all the tension melted away from both of them.

"Maybe next time you two need to talk about your feelings, one of you doesn't need to die for it?" Lydia sassed from the doorway. The boys parted, blushing, as she tackled her brother in a hug. But all of them laughed, and for now all of them were okay, and that... that could be enough. After all, they still had a witch to kill.

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

#male reader #teen wolf #stiles Stilinski #Dylan O’Brien #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf imagine #stiles Stilinski x reader #stiles Stilinski x male reader #stiles Stilinski imagine #Dylan O’Brien imagine #Dylan O’Brien x reader #Dylan O’Brien x male reader

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reareaotaku · 8 months ago

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Masterlist IV [Complete]

Masterlist V | Masterlist III | Masterlist II | Masterlist I Updated: Aug. 28, 2024 [9:39 PM CDT] * = Slight Nsfw/Nsfw Content

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz Headcanons

Lydia Deetz

Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz Headcanons

Goofy Movie

Max Goof

She Said See You Later, Boy [Pt. II of He was a Skater Boy] Birthday Celebration Max Goof Headcanons Max NSFW Headcanons* Max Dating Headcanons

Bradley Uppercrust III

Bradley Headcanons Birthday Celebration Bradley NSFW Headcanons*

Peter Pete Junior "P.J."

Birthday Celebration

Bobby Zimmeruski

Birthday Celebration Bobby Headcanons*

Tank

Birthday Celebration

Goofy

Birthday Celebration

Teen Mutant Ninja Turtles

Michelangelo 'Mikey'

Mikey Headcanons

Donnie

Sweet Pretty Thing

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

I Wanna Be More Than Friends

Victorious

Tori Vega