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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

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Lute sees Vaggie's wings have grown back and tries take them again. She grabs them to pull them off, but her hands burn right through her gloves. Sp, Lute tries to cut them off with her sword, but the blade shatters the second it hits the feathers. That's the power of love, bitch!

this could be either so dramatic or so fucking funny so i'd love to imagine it being Both

(fuck this turned out looooooong XD)

Emily: "Good news!”

Charlie: "YAY!"

Vaggie: "How good can it be, if we had to come all the way to stupid heaven to hear it?

Charlie: "Vaggie, c'mon- We could REALLY use some good news!"

Emily: "Then you'll love this. I looked into it and, Vaggie, you being abandoned in hell was wrong, not to mention Adam never cleared it with anyone else anyway- so you can come back here to heaven! Isn't that great!"

Charlie: "Oh... thanks Emily, that's..."

Vaggie: "Not happening."

Charlie: "Maybe she could have some time to think about-"

Lute: "No.”

Vaggie: "No."

Lute: “An angel's place is in heaven. Hell is a prison for sinners, demons, and the fallen who reject the very order of creation. If you choose to stay down there, then what does that make you?"

Vaggie: "It's making me fucking happy, for one thing."

Charlie: (whispers) "... a happy day in hell?"

Vaggie: (whispering back) "Every single one."

Charlie: (BEAMS)

Lute: "Then you've made your choice. You're not an angel. You’re not one of us. You're a traitor."

Vaggie: "And it's been better company than I had up here."

Lute: "Think so?” (grins) “Sera, respectfully, hell is rebelling-"

Charlie: "We were PROTECTING ourselves!"

Lute: "-they killed Adam and one of their people is up here acting like he doesn’t still sympathize with murderers and filthy sinners. We can’t risk anyone else getting past heaven’s gates.”

Vaggie: “Like I’d ever want to!”

Lute: “So you wouldn’t lead the charge if your demon bitch said the word and pointed at us?”

Emily: “Lute!”

Charlie: “Vaggie wouldn’t-”

Vaggie: “Charlie never would! That’s what makes her different from assholes like YOU.”

Lute: “You think everyone’s as weak as you are, don’t you? She’s a hellborn princess. She just called violently resisting a sanctioned extermination ‘self defense.’”

Charlie: “YOU WERE KILLING PEOPLE!”

Lute: “Sinners are not people. They had their chance and burned it. And they’re not the only ones.”

Emily: “But they can be redeemed! We’ve seen it happen!”

Lute: “Once.”

Emily: “It doesn’t matter that it was only ‘once’- it matters that it happened and we still don’t understand why. We have a duty to the people of heaven, but if sinners can find their way here then that duty includes them too! And the exterminations were just wrong from the start!”

Lute: “Careful Emily, you’re starting to sound like a traitor too.”

Emily: “If the other choice is sounding like YOU, then-”

Sera: “Enough! Both of you! Emily is not the one on trial here, Lute.”

Lute: “Then listen to the ones that ARE! Sera, listen to them, listen to HER- she’s made her choice. She’s fallen even more than Lucifer Morningstar did-”

Charlie: “Don’t you DARE bring my dad into this!”

Lute: “-and there should be a PRICE for that. We need to take precautions.”

Emily: “Precautions? What does that even mean? She’s locked in hell with everyone else, like Lucifer is, what more can you even do to her?”

Lute: “Same thing I did before. Only this time.” (draws sword) “I know how to make it stick.”

Charlie: “What?”

Vaggie: “….you… bitch.”

Lute: "Traitor's don't need an angel's wings, do they? Traitors don't deserve them."

Charlie: "Well she has them again now anyway so CLEARLY having angel wings doesn’t mean what you think it does!”

Lute: “It means I didn’t use heavenly steel the first time.”

Emily: “You-”

Charlie: “Don’t. Come any closer.”

Emily: “Lute stop! Sera stop her! This isn’t helping anyone!”

Sera: “I have only one question.”

Lute: “Ask and get it over with, we all know what the answer is already.”

Sera: “Hush.”

Sera: “Vaggie. Do you reject our offer of a pardon, and the orders of and service to heaven, in favor of remaining hell?”

Vaggie: “…I do.”

Sera: "Understanding that no other angel has ever done so before?”

Vaggie: “They would’ve, if they’d met Charlie.”

Sera: “Then you are guilty of treason.”

Vaggie: “…”

Sera: “Lute. Make it quick.”

Lute: (grinning) “As the seraphim commands.”

Emily: “Wait-”

Charlie: “BACK. OFF.”

Sera: “You are not in hell, miss Morningstar, this is not your domain and you have no power to draw on here. I will honor our former treaty not to spill hell’s royal blood but do NOT test my patience with it. Emily, restrain her.”

Charlie: “NO-”

Emily: “Sera you can’t! This is-!”

Sera: “Fine. Exorcists, hold the hell princess. And Emily, if you cannot obey a command or bear witness to my rulings then leave before I remove you myself.”

Emily: “I… you…”

Lute: “Kneel. Traitor.”

Charlie: “TOUCH HER AND I’LL MOTHERFUCKING KILL YOU”

Vaggie: “Charlie don’t struggle don’t fight them- get those fucking spears out of her face- Emily!”

Emily: “…what…?”

Lute: “I said. KNEEL.”

Charlie: “VAGGIE!”

Vaggie: “Please! Don’t let- AGH- don’t let them hurt her!”

Emily: “I won’t… I.” (grabs Charlie and holds on tight) “I- I have her. Spears down. I, have her restrained.”

Charlie: "FUCK YOU LET GO! LET GO-"

Sera: (relieved) “Thank you.”

Lute: "Let's make you look the part first shall we? Trim this hair out of the way?"

Vaggie: "You're pathetic."

Lute: "I'm not the one chained up and crying on my knees."

Charlie: "PLEASE I can make a deal I can make a new agreement with heaven- Whatever you want! What do you WANT from us!?"

Lute: "I want her to hold still. If she flinches, I might nick that left over eye of hers."

Vaggie: "Fuck. You- Ah!"

Lute: "Whoops. Hope that won't scar."

Sera: "Lute I said to make it quick-"

Lute: "We want to it be clean too don't we. I'm just cut cutting off some loose ends- wouldn't want to miss her wings and MANGLE this, would I."

Emily: “Charlie-”

Charlie: “YOU!”

Lute: "There. Now you look just as pathetic as you did three years ago."

Emily: “Charlie just close your eyes, she’ll be okay-”

Lute: “No she won’t.”

Charlie: “VAGGIE-”

(Slash)

(THUNDR CRACK)

(shatter)

Lute: “AARGH!”

Sera: “…….” (horrified)

Lute: “My hand! My sword-” (rounds on Charlie) “Demon BITCH! WHAT DID YOU DO!?”

Charlie: “Vaggie? Are you..?”

Vaggie: “….fine. I’m. I don’t think it’ll even bruise?”

Emily: (awed) “Your wings broke her sword. They shattered heavenly steel-”

Lute: “DEMON MAGIC!”

Emily: “A miracle.” (releases Charlie)

Charlie: "Vaggie-" (snaps the chains off vaggie and pulls her close)

Sera: “Traitor. How did you regain those wings.”

Vaggie: (huddled in Charlie’s fierce hug) “C- someone told me I had to fight with love, and I thought about Charlie, and they just…”

Lute: “SEE!? They were made in HELL they’re as profane as the love that spawned them-”

Emily: “Then they’re not under heaven’s jurisdiction to take away, are they? They belong to Vaggie. Not to us.”

Lute: “Belong to- she doesn’t DESERVE-”

Emily: “And you don’t deserve to cut them off her apparently.”

Lute: “I-”

Sera: “Lute. QUIET.”

Lute: (seething and bleeding from sword shrapnel) “…”

Sera: “You, fallen. If I bent my power on you, I could very likely burn those wings from existence.”

Charlie: “If you want to start a war with hell that’s a VERY good way of doing it. Sera.”

Sera: "...."

Sera: “…you will no longer be allowed past the gates of heaven. You are here on and forever more bound to the regions of hell, regardless of your wings-”

Vaggie: “Fine by f-fucking me.”

Sera: “-and in time you will lose all your divinity. You will bleed a demon’s blood one day.”

Vaggie: “Good.”

Lute: “If you live that long.”

Charlie: (Unholy SNARL)

Emily: (getting between them) “Can I send them home now? Or are we going to do something else to shame all of heaven in front of our guests?”

Vaggie: (sighing) “I’d love to be home right now…”

Charlie: “We’ll be there in a second.” (hugs her tighter) “I promise.” (kiss her hair) “Want to stretch your wings?”

Vaggie: “…yeah.”

Sera: “No, Emily. I will banish them.”

Charlie: “Okay.” (suddenly glaring) “Ha ha thank you Sera but don’t bother. It’s straight down from here and the prison wards don’t stop anyone from coming IN do they?”

Emily: “Are you sure your wings are okay for flying with, Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “That’s what I wanna find out.”

Charlie: “We’ll be fine. And we won’t be coming back.”

Emily: “I’m sorry.”

Lute: “Like you’d have the chance.”

Sera: “Go. Heaven is no place for either of you.”

Charlie: “Wow really I hadn’t noticed! I mean no one in HELL ever tried mutilating my girlfriend in front of me, but whatever I guess!” (muttering) “Sadistic homophobic pricks.”

Vaggie: “Told you.”

Charlie: “You did. You did tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t-”

Vaggie: “I love that you didn’t listen.”

Charlie: “…okay.” (deep breath) “Okay.”

Vaggie: “Besides, there’s Sir Pentious up here now.”

Charlie: “True. They don’t deserve him.”

Vaggie: “And Emily.”

Charlie: “Hm.” (burns a hole in the clouds beneath them) “Ready to fuck off together for all eternity?”

Vaggie: (weak chuckle) “Yeah, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

- they go home-

Sera: “Emily.”

Emily: "..."

Sera: “I hope you will think hard on what you’ve done and very nearly did today. Please.” (touches Emily’s shoulder) “For your own sake. Please.” (leaves)

Emily: “…she’s never going to forgive me, is she.”

Lute: “Oh shut UP. Sera will forgive you for ANYTHING.”

Emily: “I meant Charlie.”

Lute: (disgusted noise) (throws her broken sword down after them) (stalks off)

Emily: (sits down on the edge of the clouds) (finds one of Vaggie’s loose feathers floating by) (picks it up and twirls it sadly as she stares down at the distant warm glow of hell)

-down in hell-

Angel Dust: "Unholy fuck, Vaggie Tales, what the hell happened to your hair?"

Charlie: "Lute."

Vaggie: "Heaven."

Angel Dust: "Huh. Shit that's a bad enough cut to make a guy rethink the whole redeemin' himself stuff to get up there, y'know?"

Charlie: "I know. Trust me Angel Dust- NOW, I know."

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #emily hazbin hotel #lute hazbin hotel #sera hazbin hotel #angst #threats of violence #incorrect quotes #an au idea i guess???#ends perfectly happy enough kinda #only casualties: vaggie's hair. emily's hope of staying friends with charlie. charlie's dreams and mental health....#....#well #i guess it /could/ have gone better

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rjalker · 10 months

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"accessible bathroom stalls are great in theory, but then that means there's less stalls overall!"

I will fucking rip your heart out with my teeth.

#ableism #threats of violence #cripplepunk #actuallyphysicallydisabled #actually physically disabled #the ableism is coming from inside the house #disability #disabled #physically disabled

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icedmetaltea · 7 months

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Dear anon who suggested yandere y/n going apeshit for Sun I AM SORRY this is late (or maybe it's just been 2 days my sense of time is fucked rn), but yea

Taking a majority of my art off tumblr for now. Fuck AI

#yandere au #tw yandere #Fnaf Sun #fnaf #five nights at freddies #fnaf sb #Sun x y/n #Sundrop x y/n #Sun x reader #Sundrop x reader #tw violence #just in case #threats of violence #Metaltea draws

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cpt-winters · 10 months

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Forced to Choose

"Open your mouth."

Leader's only response was to tighten his jaw muscles further.

"I won't ask again."

Leader's gaze shifted from the teammate kneeling opposite him to the gun levelled at his head. He stared at the barrel for several seconds before complying, though not without glaring up at Whumper.

Appearing menacing as Whumper slid the gun into his mouth was a lost effort, but there was no chance in hell he was giving Whumper the satisfaction of his full submission. But there was no disillusion of who held the power here.

"I'll make this simple." Gravel crunched under Whumper's boot as he stepped behind Leader, shifting his attention to the other captive.

"Tell me where the base is...or I blow his brains out."

Leader forced his face to stay neutral, not wanting Youngest to see him crumble. Nonetheless, he failed to suppress a shudder, his breath hitching as the cold metal bit into his skin, scraping against the roof of his mouth.

"Please don't...don't make me choose," Youngest pleaded, a tear glinting in their eyes as the gun cocked with a distinctive click.

Wanting to reassure Youngest it was okay, Leader gave as much of a nod as he could manage, already knowing what decision they'd have to make.

#whump #leader whump #team whump #team dynamics #whump scenario #intimidation whump #power dynamics #defiant whumpee #forced to watch #interrogation whump #military whump #team leader whump #forced to choose #forced to kneel #threats of violence #hostage whump

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destielmemenews · 7 months

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source 1

source 2

#destiel meme #destiel meme news #united states #us news #news #gun tw #guns tw #wisconsin #gun violence #threats of violence #tony evers #wisconsin governor tony evers #yikes #come on now #can we have gun control now please

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call-me-a-simp · 1 year

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Heal My Wounds

The Call (Part 5)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

You both wake up to an incoming call on your phone. It's an unknown number and since you blocked your ex-boyfriend you're scared he just got a new phone to terrorize you with.

"Don't you wanna answer that" Rhea groans, she didn't like being waken so early after being up almost half of the night.

"N-no I can't" you whisper, arms wrapped around your knees drawn to your chest, whipping back and forth.

"I'm scared Rhea, what if it's him?" tears start to form in your eyes. Demi finally turns around and sits up. "Hey it's okay, calm down" she comforts you, rubbing your back.

"Let's answer it together" Rhea says and presses the green button on your phone. "Hello?" she says.

"Who is this, where's y/n?" a dark male voice replies.

"This is Demi, a friend of hers" A friend. You don't know what it is but her words trigger a feeling in you that you can't exactly describe.

"Can I talk to y/n?" he sounds pretty annoyed.

Rhea looks at you and you frantically shake your head no.

"Sorry you can't, what can I do for you?" Rhea says.

"Why not"

"Uh.. She showering right now" Demi lies.

"Then I'll call back when she's done" The man says angrily and hangs up.

It's silent for a moment before Rhea decides to speak again. "Was that him?" you just nod, tears silently running down your cheeks.

Demi notices and pulls you into a hug. "It's ok darling, I won't let him hurt you again" she says, stroking your arm. Darling. Why does she say that, you're not a couple, you think.

"It's my day off, if you want we can stay in bed and cuddle whilst watching a film or something."

"That would be great" you respond.

Rhea lays down on her back and you snuggle up to her, letting your head rest on her chest. She puts an arm around you drawing patterns all over it.

"What movie would you like to see?"

"Do you know (insert favorite movie)?" you ask. "No I don't but it sounds interesting. Let's see... Ah there it is" she hits play and eventually you both fall back to sleep.

Juuust to wake up to an incoming call again. "Oh shut the fuck up! Really?!" you laugh at how pissed Rhea is. She smacks your shoulder in a playful manner and reaches over to grab your phone again.

"Don't worry, we'll do it together" she says reassuringly and grabs your hand.

"Hello?"

"Hey it's Demi again, what can I do for you?"

"She still showering?" he's clearly annoyed.

"No, she's next to me listening. You're on speaker."

He groans "Then why can't she answer herself?!"

As none of you responds he continues "Listen you little brat, you're either coming back to me right now or tell me where the fuck you are and I'll get you!"

You tense up and Rhea releases your hand to put her arm around you.

"She definitely won't do that considering what you've done to her"

"What I've done to her? She was the one who manipulated and took advantage of me, I just defended myself!" he argued.

"Listen. I don't know everything that happened, at least not yet, but from what I know that wasn't just self defense. You beat her up and raped her multiple times. You're lucky I didn't call the police yet!" Rhea snaps back.

"Whatever. Y/n get the fuck away from this psycho, she's not good for you, and come back to me."

"N-no" you dare to say now that you feel safe and protected by Rhea.

"Oh you're gonna regret this you little brat! Wait till I find out where you are and I'm gonna make the rest of your life a living hell!" she shouts.

Before he could say anything else Rhea ends the call and blocks the number. "What an idiot.." she scoffs putting the phone away again.

"Hey, you did great! I'm proud of you for finally standing up against him." A smile tuggs on your lips as she says so. "Come on, let's get breakfast, I'm hungry" Rhea says and gets up.

You walk into the kitchen and help her make some scrumbeled eggs together with bacon and toast.

You sit down to eat together. While Demi is focused on her food you take a second to look at her. How comes you never noticed how good she looks?

Demi notices you're staring at her and looks up. She smiles at you and you blush and quickly look away, making her laugh.

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

Part 5 of my series Heal My Wounds as always, leave your suggestions, wishes and so on in the comments :)

Taglist: @thatonepansexual2000

#rhea ripley #wrestling #demi bennett #rhea ripley x reader #wwe x reader #rapevictim #phone calls #death threats #threats of violence #ex boyfriend #cry of fear #fear #breakfast #scrambled eggs #bacon and eggs #toast #weird feeling

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sugas6thtooth · 4 months

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🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

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a-whumped-tea · 2 years

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“Oh, would you look at that? Seems someone forgot what I told them.”

Villain stiffens at the voice but doesn’t turn to face it’s owner, “I- You- Your shift ended th-three hours ago. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m doing overtime right now,” Hero explains nonchalantly as they walk up behind the now trembling criminal. “Not that it matters. What does matter though, is that you didn’t listen to me.”

“I-I just needed the money, I c-can’t leave the city like you want me t-to if I don’t get the money. I-” Villain lets out a whimper as they feel the hero’s arms wrap around their waist. “Pl-please, I’m tr-trying.”

Hero hums in thought, letting their chin rest on Villain’s shoulder, “No. I don’t think you were actually trying to leave. I think you were just trying to do a heist while I was away to try to avoid what I was- no. Sorry. What I’m going to do to you since you aren’t leaving.”

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brienneoftarth1989 · 4 months

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Undercover part 5

Miranda Hilmarson x fem reader

Previous / Next / Series

Summary: You were starting to trust Miranda, probably too much to the point you were now developing feelings for her. You didn’t want to but you couldn’t help it. You trusted her so much that you decided to bring her to meet one of your victims.

Warnings: gangs, implied torture

Requests open

———————————

It’s been a whole month since you trained Miranda to be a falcon and she is a pro at what she does. There are so many occasions where she has picked up information that has helped protect the gang from not only other gangs but from the feds as well. You are really starting to trust this woman and that scares you.

It wasn’t very often that you let your guard down yet this woman has helped take your wall down brick by brick. You really wanted to ask Miranda out on a date but you could also think of a hundred and one reasons why that would be wrong. She was your employee for a start and you always swore that you would never get emotionally involved with them. Yet here you are.

You also shouldn’t date her because it could just cause overall awkwardness with your other employees and if she didn’t feel the same way then it definitely would cause awkwardness. That is why you have decided to just not say anything. Maybe you could subtly hint to her that maybe you have feelings for her but unless she makes a move it is best to just leave the relationship as just a professional one.

You were currently sitting in your office minding your own business as you sorted through the important paperwork that came with running a gang. Everyone was out doing their assigned jobs apart from some of the associates that were loitering in the warehouse sorting out stock and cleaning down some of the trucks that have come back from the drug runs.

It was peaceful and you knew that once you had finished this you could just go home and relax. There was no reason to be here as everything was running smoothly. Just as you were finishing up your paperwork you heard a huge commotion coming from the warehouse. You stood up immediately and looked out the window that looked over the warehouse floor.

You watched as Miranda and Raphael drag in a man who was trying his best to get out of their grip. You immediately made your way downstairs to see what was going on. You met with Miranda and Raphael in the middle of the warehouse. The man immediately stopped fighting once he had seen you. He knew that he was in trouble.

‘What is this about?” you asked as you looked at the three of them. “This one knows something about you. He knows something that is coming your way and it doesn’t sound good. We tried to get it out of him the easy way but he didn’t seem like he wanted to cooperate so instead we brought him to you” Raphael told you.

“Oh you’re going to wish you hadn’t chosen the hard way. Miranda you’re dismissed. Raphael help me take this fucker to the white room. Hopefully a little insanity will help jog this one's memory” you laughed as you took over from Miranda as you dragged him to the room that you had refused to show her on the first day.

The only thing Miranda could think about was that you were truely insane and fucked in the head and yet she wasn’t wrong. Miranda watched you until you disappeared round the corner before getting back to work. She definitely didn’t want to get on your bad side. You and Raphael dragged the man into the white room, chucking him on the floor before walking out of the room and locking the door behind him.

This was going to be fun. You would check on him in a couple of days to see if he would finally cooperate. Let's hope for his sake that he will because the torture was only going to get worse for him. With the door now locked you made your way back to your office to grab your stuff.

You still planned on going home and that was exactly what you were going to do. You shut the office door behind you and made your way through the warehouse and out to your truck. As you got to the truck you could see Miranda and Raphael talking to one another.

“You too alright?” You asked them. “Yeah, we are fine boss. You off?” Raphael asks you. “Yeah I’m done with today. If you need me just call me. As for the twat in the white room he is to get nothing but one bowl of rice a day and two glasses of water. That is it!” You told them as you got in the truck and drove off.

Miranda turned to Raphael. “Is she being serious?” she asked him. “Yep and that’s just the start of the torture. Just you wait until she really starts to have fun with him” he laughed as he encouraged Miranda to keep moving forward. “Great. I can’t wait until I’m shown that” Miranda muttered to herself.

Unfortunately for her Raphael heard her. Part of him didn’t trust Miranda. He felt like she was up to something or knew something that he didn’t. Most people love to get involved in everything but Miranda avoided everything as much as she possibly could. Raphael decided it was probably better if he kept an eye on her.

The rest of the day went really smoothly. Miranda, Raphael and the gang just got on with everyday jobs which all got completed while you spent the rest of the day chilling at home and just relaxing. That is because you knew that when you next came in the real torture was going to start on that poor lad.

The next time you came into the warehouse it had been in fact a few days later and you knew that the real fun was going to start. You quickly made your way up to the office ignoring everyone in your path. You wanted answers and you wanted them now. You put everything in your office and grabbed the box of torture devices before making your way to the white room.

Everyone could tell that you were on one by the fact that you hadn’t said a single hello to anyone since you arrived. You opened the door to the white room and closed it behind you making the lad jump out of his skin at the sight of you. You placed the box on the floor before turning to the lad. “So are you ready to talk?”

All the lad could do was look up at yourself with fear in his eyes. You knew that if he opened his mouth he would get the same treatment from his gang so either way he was fucked. “Don’t want to answer me then that’s fine but we sure are gonna have some fun” you smirked before turning around to open the door you had just come through.

“Miranda! I want Miranda here now!” You shouted out before slamming the door behind you. It wouldn’t be long before she would be here so you could give her the show of a lifetime!

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #fanfics #constable miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #top of the lake china girl #police #undercover #undercover series #gangs #gang leader #torture #violence #threats of violence #brienneoftarth1989

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keulixeutin · 1 year

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Tempered

a/n: ahhhh. a little self-indulgent. summary: tomura’s reaction to a nail technician—accidentally—nicking skin. shigaraki x gn!reader cw: gender neutral pronouns used, gn!reader. blood. swearing. threats of violence and murder. fluff, cuddling. maybe slight ooc-ness ugh. wc: 1,020.

“Did you know there’s, like, a lot of blood in your hands?” you announced as you entered Tomura’s room.

“What?” His head whipped around in his seat before the rest of the chair could even swivel.

“So, she cut my hand—”

“Who the fuck—”

When he stood up, red eyes pulsing, jaw tensing, fingers twitching for flesh to squeeze, you knew you needed to rephrase the scattered way you were speaking before you sent him over the edge and lit the fuse.

“Tomura,” you began, keeping your voice cool and calm. “I was talking about my nail technician. Remember I said I was getting my nails off today?”

His sharp, red eyes scanned your body for whatever worse-case scenario damages that his mind had thought up.

“She cut me with the drill bit,” you explained. “It was small—the cut—but it was still bleeding for a pretty long time. Hence the so much blood in the hands comment.” Tomura didn’t seem amused, so you quickly added on, “but it’s fine now.” To emphasize, you showed him your hand; the skin at the base of the nail of your left middle finger was red, and the spot where the technician had painfully ripped off skin made your cuticle an uneven line, like an inlet of an island.

He took your hand in his—pinky finger hovering safely—and eyed the tiny wound. His hand was cold, but his touch was warm.

The cut was, indeed, the tiniest, little thing. It had bled a lot earlier, and at one point, it had throbbed irritably from to the technician applying some chemical to help undo the acrylic glue; but, as you had said, it was fine now. You had just wanted to tell a small story about your day, though this was just another reminder that Tomura didn’t have the best reactions to—well, to news in general, especially if it was you and your spotty way of delivering it.

Once Tomura was satisfied that you weren’t tortured in the nail salon, he dropped your hand and sat back down. The game over screen glowed behind him, but his attention was on you.

Bomb defused, you closed the door behind you and set your bag down on the floor. You opted to keep the many layers of clothes on as you settled onto the bed. It was just as chilly inside the hide-out as outside, as the heater stopped working four days ago and no one knew how to fix it (and the back-up heater—Dabi—was getting violently annoyed that everyone kept hovering so closely to him, so that was an unusable plan b).

“Was it her first day?” Tomura asked.

“I don’t think so,” you answered. You curled comfortably under the frayed blankets and reached for the unfinished book you had left on the shoddy nightstand.

“Then how the hell did she cut you?”

You shrugged, dropping your gaze to where you had left off in your book. “Accidents happen,” you said offhandedly.

He didn’t respond, though, and when you didn’t hear even a grunt, you looked up to see him staring at your hand with a furious intensity.

“Tomura,” you said. “It’s fine.”

He glanced up at you, holding your gaze with his own glowing red. It didn’t seem like he was wanting to say anything; he looked like he was thinking, processing your words, deciding dark actions. You could probably guess at what he was itching to do. Then, without further words, he turned back around and picked up his fallen controller.

Later that night, when Tomura joined you under the covers, he grasped your hand and checked your injured finger once again, eyes narrowing.

“See?” you said. “All good.”

He didn’t say anything, letting go and laying his head down beside you. You smiled at him. He didn’t return it—he never did—but his face softened, eyelids drooping and jaw unclenching.

“Night,” you whispered.

“Mhm.” He closed his eyes.

But you knew him. You knew him well.

So in the middle of the night, when you felt a loss of warmth and a shifting bed, you knew to pull yourself from the sticky tendrils of a sweet sleep, and you knew that you’d see Tomura slipping out of the bedsheets in the dim dark and haze of slumber. You grabbed onto the hem of his shirt; he stilled, glancing back.

“You can’t kill a nail technician because she accidentally cut me,” you said, voice heavy with lingering tendrils.

“I can kill whoever I want,” he said, voice barely above a hiss.

“Then kill her tomorrow,” you said.

Tomura stared at you, both suspicious and curious.

You released your grip on the edge of his shirt and pulled the blanket closer around you. “I’m cold,” you said. “If you leave now, it’ll be even colder.”

“You’ll survive,” he said. “It’ll be quick.”

“It’s almost below freezing,” you remarked. “What if I lose some fingers and toes in the process?”

“You won’t.”

“But I sleep better with you here,” you continued. “Nice and warm and safe. And anyways, she’ll be there for you to kill any time. Why go hunting for her in the middle of the night when you know where she’ll be every day from 12 to 9? Right?”

Though Tomura didn’t respond, he didn’t move either—but you knew him. He was listening; your voice was cutting through the growing red of his eyes. You opened the blanket and urged him to come under the covers with your a waving hand.

“Hurry, Tomura,” you said when he still hadn’t moved. “You’re letting all the heat escape.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but it was a hollow sound, just a habitual response. In the end, just as you had asked, he turned and lowered back down into your arms. You settled the blanket around him. His body heat spread throughout the space, and you shifted closer with a sigh. In the warm fabric embrace, you fell asleep, already having come up with a quick excuse and reason to keep him tempered for every day this week.

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karatekels · 6 months

Text

All’s Fair: Chapter 3

Happy Halloween, everybody! I hope you enjoy the tricks and treats that this dark and twisty Terry provides in this chapter...

Previous Parts:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

TW: Teasing, coercion, gaslighting, threats, violence, PTSD being triggered, dubcon, probably noncon if we're being honest, groping, fingering, graphic sex, Terry Silver being manipulative and hot about it

Terry’s POV:

Terry is over the moon with what you have allowed him to get away with tonight. He leads you out of the Hall of Mirrors gently, rubbing his thumb in reassuring circles on your skin as he holds your hand; he has to make sure you aren’t going to be overwhelmed by the experience after the fact. You seem shaky, and shy, but overall you’re glowing with satisfaction and an endearing sense of pride, like you had overcome a significant obstacle. He supposes, in a way, you have. Hopefully the mind-blowing orgasm courtesy of yours-truly has knocked away a significant chunk of your remaining anxieties and hesitation about going all the way tonight. It would make things easier for him, at any rate.

As you walk through the fair you enter a path lined by booths largely filled with other couples, the people staffing them outright heckling the men walking through with their girlfriends and intimidating them into paying for a chance to win their partner a plush toy. It’s clearly a cash grab; he can spot some of the illusions set up to trick people from here, and appreciates the hustle.

“Hey hey, Big Man! How ‘bout you come on over and try to win something for that lovely lady of yours?” a man throws out, trying to bait him.

He can appreciate a hustle, but not at his expense.

Terry immediately starts to steer you both towards the booth, but you squeeze his hand to try to stop him.

“Just ignore him, Terry. Those games are all rigged anyway,” you say with a roll of your eyes directed at the man goading them from his booth.

“It’ll only take a minute,” he tells you with confidence, pulling you into his side as he walks over. Do you really still underestimate him this much?

He hands a couple bills to the carnie in exchange for a few balls that feel like they’re from a billiards table.

“So, what? I just throw these at some bottles?” he asks skeptically.

“That’s right,” the man says with a broad grin that Terry sees right through.

“How can I be sure that the bottles aren’t attached to the table?” he asks with an innocent smile. The carnie lifts a bottle up to demonstrate, and Terry shakes his head.

“Why don’t you let me back there to see for myself?” he asks with a soft, dangerous voice that has the other man paling slightly, before his eyes turn to land on you with a slight smirk.

“No dice, buddy. I could let the lady back here with me on your behalf,” he offers, raising a challenging eyebrow. Terry is not concerned for a minute about letting you near this man. He is certain of your loyalty and devotion to him, and doesn’t think that the man is stupid enough to try to lay a finger on you in his presence.

Still, he plays up his insecurities, pulling you close and laying a kiss on your lips before releasing you.

“Whaddaya say, doll?” he asks you, giving you your favourite lopsided grin. “Want to go check that everything’s on the up-and-up for me?”

You give him a shy smile and a nod, moving away from him and slipping into the back of the booth as the carnie lifts the counter up on its hinge, closing it after you.

“You want me to lift them all?” you ask Terry, paying no mind to the man next to you, he notes with satisfaction as he nods at you.

“You can touch anything you want back here, doll,” the carnie says in a husky voice, leering at your back as he repeats one of Terry’s petnames for you.

He’ll be out of a job by this time tomorrow.

He watches you pick up all the bottles individually before you restack them, nodding with approval and nimbly hopping over the counter and back to him, tucking yourself into his side immediately. Yes, you are most assuredly his now.

“There’s no magnets or anything, but they’re all weighted at the bottom,” you report back to him, wrapping your arms around his middle as you turn to look at the carnie, your face unimpressed.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he purrs at you with affection, kissing your cheek. Taking a step away from you, he fires off two balls in quick succession, aiming for the bottoms of the bottles that formed the base of the pyramid, sending them all toppling over. You hop up and down, clapping for him while the other man scowls.

“We’ll take the big snake,” you tell the carnie with a cheeky smile, pointing to a large red and yellow plushie that hung across the ceiling of the booth. “For Cobra Kai!” you announce to Terry, raising your fist in the air as you both watch the man struggle to take the toy off of its hooks. He kisses the top of your head, charmed as always by your sweetness. He hopes it doesn’t disappear along with the loss of your innocence after tonight.

Terry takes the gigantic toy from the man, draping it over your shoulders; it’s still close to dragging on the ground as you walk away from the games.

“Well, it’s getting late, babygirl, and I doubt that they’ll let us take your new friend with us on rides. Is there anything else you want to do before we go home?” he asks, wondering if you’ll pick up on his wording. You’ll both be going to his home tonight.

“Can we do the ferris wheel?” you ask, looking up at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile. Of course he’ll indulge you; you’ll be doing the same for him tonight, spread out on his sheets and giving yourself to him.

“That sounds great, babygirl. Let’s go,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and mirroring the snake across your shoulders. With his free hand he pulls out his mobile phone, calling the chauffeur while you lead them to the line for the ride. He has a quick conversation with the man, who assures Terry that he is on his way, and hangs up as you approach the line.

“Larry is going to come and take this –” he squeezes the snake lightly with a large hand.

“Kiai,” you interrupt him, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“His name is Kiai, I’ve just decided,” you inform him seriously, and he gives you an indulgent smile.

“Alright then, Larry is coming to take Kiai back to the car while we go on the ride. Why don’t you go wait for him by the entrance while I hold our place in line?” Terry suggests, his face giving nothing away. You beam up at him, and immediately head off to give your silly toy to the driver.

The moment that your back is turned, Terry walks to the front of the line to speak to the ride’s operator, ignoring the grumbling of complaints behind him.

“Sir, you’ll need to wait at the back of the –” the man starts to tell him in an exasperated voice, but Terry wraps a friendly arm around his shoulders, leaning down to speak with him privately, a wad of bills clenched in one fist.

“I’m not here to cut the line,” Terry informs him smoothly, feeling the man tense under his arm. “I want you to keep anyone else from getting on this thing after me and my girl, and I want you to keep us at the top for… about a half hour or so.”

The man looks about to protest, so he flashes the cash in his hand at the man, whose jaw quickly snaps shut.

“Tell them the ride is broken, closed, whatever – I don’t care. But we’re on that ride alone and at the top for a half hour, got it?”

The man nods mutely at him, and Terry gives him an approving pat on the shoulder, stuffing the money into his front shirt pocket before turning and heading back to the line without another word. You rejoin him several minutes later, sans-snake, and before long the two of you are seated in the ride, which slowly makes its way around until the two of you are perched at the very top, overlooking the fair grounds.

Time to see what else he can get out of you.

Reader’s POV:

The top of the ferris wheel is the perfect time and place to tell Terry that you love him. Sure, it’s a cliché, but seeing as you feel the way people only do in cheesy romantic comedies, it seems all the more appropriate.

Just as you approach the top, the ride stops, your pod swaying slightly. What an odd coincidence… but maybe perfect for what you want to do.

“I’m sure that it’ll start moving again in a minute,” you tell Terry reassuringly, though you’re not sure why. Not wanting to miss this golden opportunity, you take a deep breath, turning sideways to face him. He cocks his head to the side, surveying you with interest, and you bite your lip.

“Is everything okay, babygirl?” he asks, his eyes bright with concern as he takes your hand in his own. He was so kind and considerate…

“Everything is wonderful, Terry,” you tell him, squeezing his hand as you slide closer to him. “These past few months have been beyond my wildest dreams; I never thought that I would ever be with someone as incredible as you. You’ve been so kind, and patient, and considerate, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it, but… I love you, Terry.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Terry gives you a dazzling smile that takes your breath away, sliding towards you and pinning you against the side of the ride. You feel your heart thudding in your chest as he cradles your face in his large hands, staring down at you like you’re the only thing in the world to him. He bends down to connect his lips with yours, kissing you so passionately that you feel dizzy, your breath coming in short little gasps against his mouth as you try to stave off the feeling of a headrush.

“Y/N, my sweet girl,” he purrs against your lips, clutching you to him firmly. He’d been a lot more insistent with his need for physical touch today, not that you mind. He had been right, after all; you needed him to give you that little push outside of your comfort zone to help you realize that you were okay with all of the sexual things that had you feeling nervous.

With that in mind, you let him have his way with you, running his hands along your body beneath his jacket and kissing down your neck. You feel his tongue tracing patterns down your neck and across your collarbone, and take a deep breath, relaxing and trying to convert your anxieties into excitement. He made you feel so good…

There’s a series of loud pops, and the night sky erupts in bright colours as fireworks are set off above the funfair.

Terry completely freezes, his hands squeezing your waist tightly and not letting up for you to breathe. You try to lift his face from the crook of your neck but are unable to get him to budge as the banging continues all around you.

“Terry?” you ask quietly, your mouth dry. What is going on? “Terry?!”

He lets out a hot burst of air against your skin as he marginally comes back to himself; enough to start breathing again, at least.

“God damnit. God damnit!” he hisses, pushing away from you and sliding to the other side of the seat. He’s staring straight ahead, but you don’t get the sense that he’s seeing what’s in front of him.

“Terry, what is it? What’s wrong?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm, though inside you’re panicking.

“The fireworks,” he says curtly, still not looking at you. “They take me back to a time and place that I don’t want to think about again.”

Your heart leaps into your throat, choking you. Of course, the war. The fireworks must be triggering his PTSD.

Cautiously, you move towards him on the bench, not wanting to spook him.

“Okay, Terry,” you say in a clear but soothing voice, slowly reaching out to place a hand over one of his – both were currently gripping the railing that surrounded them tightly. “It’s okay. I’ll try to flag someone down and see if they can get us back to the ground,” you say, moving to lean over the railing, but he pulls you back from the edge firmly.

“No,” he snarls, pulling you into him and wrapping his long limbs against you, as though to shield you from some nonexistent danger. “Don’t yell,” he orders you, and you nod, not even wanting to risk speaking for the moment, simply stroking whatever parts of him your hands can reach.

“How can I help you, Terry?” you ask quietly after a moment. “I’ll do anything I can.”

Terry is quiet for a moment, considering the question. You hope that there’s something you can do to ease his suffering…

“Distract me.” He looks directly into your eyes with a tense, pained expression on his face, and you think back to the drive over here where you had tried to distract him from looking out the window. Biting your tongue, you slip out of his jacket, leaving it on your side of the bench and slowly moving to climb onto his lap, straddling him and twining your arms around his neck. Hesitantly, you lower yourself onto him, rolling your hips against him. Was this even going to help?

Terry’s hands come around your hips to your butt, squeezing it as he guides your body into repeating the motion, so you assume that it is helping.

“Focus on me, Terry,” you whisper in his ear in a breathless voice, feeling strangely exhilarated and not nearly as nervous or self-conscious as you had anticipated. “Let me make you feel good, and focus on that.”

With his hands guiding your hips, you start to grind against him, giving him a lap dance and peppering his face his kisses, cooing sweet nothings at him and doing your best to take his mind off of everything. Gradually, Terry loosens up beneath you, looking up into your eyes with an overwhelming degree of reverence, and his hands slide up your body.

He pulls you further against his chest, getting rougher with his hands kneading your flesh, his lips claiming yours in a ferocious kiss, like he was trying to consume you.

“My Y/N, my girl, my sweet thing, all mine,” he mutters to himself in a hoarse voice as he distracts himself with your body, and you can’t say that you’re upset with the treatment, though you wish it was under better circumstances.

Another round of fireworks goes off, and he grabs the neckline of your dress, tearing it down the middle and baring your chest, with only your bra between you. He immediately buries his face between your breasts, his hands at your back keeping you in place, as though he’s trying to hide away from everything. You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingernails, humming something between a song and a moan as you sit perched on his lap. After an indeterminate amount of time, you conclude that the fireworks have stopped.

“I think it’s over, Terry,” you tell him softly, laying a kiss to his temple before leaning back, moving to retake your seat beside him.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” he asks firmly, his grip tightening on your waist as you try to climb off of him. His eyes are dark and focused on yours, but they still have an odd bright sheen to them.

“I… I thought…” you stammer, unsure of exactly what to say. Did he need to be distracted after the noises had stopped? For how long? You couldn’t very well stay on his lap like this, in public no less. “I thought you were doing better,” you say carefully, not wanting to offend him.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am,” he croons up at you, his hands still locked in their grip on your waist. “But I’m not done with you yet,” he says darkly, giving you a slightly wicked smile.

You start to fidget and squirm on his lap, trying to get out of this tactfully, clutching your torn dress to your chest to cover yourself.

“We’re in public, Terry. There are children around…” you trail off weakly.

“Not up here there aren’t.”

“I’m sure the ride will be moving soon; we shouldn’t risk it,” you say with more confidence, and he chuckles, the sound cold and hollow.

“You go to all this trouble for me tonight and then act like you don’t want it?” he hisses at you, lifting you off his lap and turning you around. You think maybe he’ll resettle you between his legs in a (marginally) more appropriate position, but instead he bends you slightly over the railing keeping you in the pod. You start to feel dizzy as you look down at the world far below you, and instinctively back up into him. Without warning, Terry lightly kicks your feet out from under you, keeping you secure with an arm around your waist, the other clamped over your mouth and nose to mask your scream of terror.

“Exhilarating, isn’t it?” he purrs in your ear, keeping you tightly against him. “That’s what it’s going to feel like when I take you, Y/N, when I make you mine,” he growls, reaching a hand up under your skirt to your underwear, still damp from the orgasm he’d given you in the Hall of Mirrors. “You want to be mine, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes,” you gasp, still trying to worm your way out of his grip, but he’s got you just where he wants you. “But not here, not now!”

“This is what people do when they’re in love. You love me, don’t you?” he asks, seeming hurt at the mere insinuation that you don’t.

“I do, Terry, of course I do,” you tell him quickly, wanting to ease his worries, and he kisses your cheek, his hand tugging your underwear down your legs. Once they get to your knees, he tugs them, pulling you backwards with them until you’re sitting on the bench, letting him fully remove your underwear. He pockets them, giving you a wink, and you feel your face flush scarlet.

“Losing your virginity on a ferris wheel is pretty unique, just like you,” he teases, and you clamp your legs together more tightly, as though that would put an end to this discussion. “I want to make your first time something special,” he coaxes, bending down to stare into your eyes. “And then I’ll take you back to my place and treat you like a queen, like you deserve, okay?”

You don’t want to have sex for the first time in public, on a carnival ride; you’re not sure if you’re ready to have sex at all. You have done so much with Terry just in the past couple of hours that you had never done before, and it’s very overwhelming to you. Still, everything that he had pushed for tonight had you feeling amazing, and you don’t regret it… why does your brain always have to make things so muddled and complicated?

You shirk away from him reflexively as he leans down towards you, and a wounded look crosses his features.

“No, Terry, I didn’t mean to,” you say apologetically, wanting to keep him calm and happy. You always want him to be happy. “It was just a reflex, I’m sorry. I’m just nervous about all of this.”

“But you love me, you trust me, right?” he asks you fiercely, his voice hoarse, and you nod immediately.

“I do, Terry. Of course I do,” you tell him, repeating your words from earlier. He just needs reassurance, especially after his episode; the least you can do is make your feelings and devotion to him clear.

“Let me do this for you, baby,” he implores you in a desperate, needy voice. “Come sit on my lap again, and we’ll go at your pace.”

He sits down on his jacket across from you, giving you a warm smile and patting his thigh encouragingly. Timidly, you slide down the bench again and climb back on top of him. You’re standing on your knees, too nervous to fully sit on him, and he takes the opportunity to reach below you to unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper, lifting his hips slightly to pull out his hard cock. Immediately, your breath starts coming hard and fast in your panic, and Terry shushes you softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hipbones.

“Why don’t you give me another little lapdance, babygirl?” he asks, kissing your mouth firmly. “Get yourself used to the feel of me. It’ll help,” he coaxes. You start to look down, but he catches you with a finger under your chin, keeping your face up and your eyes looking into his.

“Don’t look down, sweetheart. Trust me,” he says with a slight chuckle.

“Why not?” you ask him shyly, biting your lip in concern.

“I don’t want you to panic, but let’s just say that I’m rather… proportionate,” he explains vaguely, but you get the gist. “I don’t want you to lose your nerve.”

Still nibbling your lip, you force yourself to lower your body onto his lap, jumping when you first feel him prodding your inner thigh. His cock is hard and warm, but the skin is incredibly soft, and you want to feel more. As you move your body around his length, you slowly start to map out just how large he is.

“You’re so big,” you whimper, your fingernails digging into his shoulders in your apprehension. “Terry, I… there’s no way.”

“I’ll fit, baby, I promise,” he swears, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and trailing them up your legs. “We’re meant to be together, right?” he says with a charming smile. “Let me help you,” he coos, running a hand up to your pussy and teasing your clit with a finger. You buck your hips, feeling yourself getting wetter, and he hums in approval, guiding you to lean on his shoulder.

“That’s right, just let me take care of you,” he hums encouragingly in your ear, coating two of his fingers in your slick juices before slipping one inside of you, this time as deep as he can go. You claw at his back, whining and mewling incoherently as you force yourself to stay still on his lap. He teases you with one finger, then two until you’re grinding your hips against his hand needily.

“Now, just relax baby, and let me in,” he murmurs coaxingly, removing his fingers and wrapping them around the base of his cock, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Terry wait, I –” you protest, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he snarls, reversing your positions and pinning you against the back of the seat in one quick movement that makes you gasp.

“No,” he tells you in a soft, dangerous voice. “No, I’ve been patient for long enough. You’ve enjoyed everything that we’ve done tonight, and you want more; I know you do.” You shudder at his words and his tone, unable to close your legs as he holds them open, his hands grabbing your knees.

“And I’m going to give it to you, baby. Because you deserve it,” he says in a sweet voice that stands in stark contrast to what he just sounded like. Bending over you, he lays you on an angle along the bench, your head and most of your body on his jacket, lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist. You’re shaking like a leaf, your fingers bunched in the fabric of his jacket, and he leans over you, stroking the side of your face with the back of his hand gently.

You relax against him, and he takes the opportunity to thrust into you, the first few inches of his cock disappearing into your tight, wet heat. You feel like he’s knocked the breath out of you.

“T-Terry!” you cry out, still trying to be relatively quiet. “It’s too much!” you insist, tears leaking from your eyes.

“It gets better baby,” he promises, all bright eyes and a wide smile. He pulls out slightly before thrusting his hips forward again, moving deeper inside you, and you keen loudly. He slaps a hand over your mouth to quiet your screams, shushing you as he continues to open you up with his hard cock.

“I could be making you scream for me, so loud that the entire park would know that you’re up here getting the fucking of your life, but I wouldn’t do that to you, doll. You’re my sweet girl, and your pleasure belongs to me. Now let me have it.”

You’re not sure what Terry is feeling right now; if he’s still in the throes of a PTSD episode or if he’s angry at himself, feeling like he was weak or vulnerable because of his trigger response. Either way, you can’t exactly fault him for something so completely out of his control.

You are sure that deep down, he doesn’t want to hurt you, that he just needs to feel close and come back to himself through you. And you love him; surely this was the least you could do after everything he had done for you with your own mental health issues? It would probably feel good, if you loosen up and get into it. So that’s exactly what you try and force yourself to do, laying back obediently and digging your fingernails into your palms, trying to keep the rest of your body relaxed.

Terry fully makes his way inside of you after a minute or so, and you’re glad he told you not to look at him, because there’s no way you would’ve let this inside you if you had known what you were in for. He stills his hips, removing his hand from over top of your mouth and lightly brushing away your tears with a finger, looking down at you with an elated expression.

“You did it, babygirl. You took all of me,” he tells you in a pleased voice, stroking your cheek before moving his hand down to your chest, tugging at your bra until your breasts spill out. He licks his lips. “Now, I’m going to give you something you want in return…” he trails off, grinding his hips in a circle to help you adjust to the ache his intrusion is causing, while his hands move to distract you from the pain, just as you had done for him during the fireworks.

He first moves to your breasts, kneading them in circles, his long fingers plucking and pinching your nipples and causing little jolts of pleasure to run from them down to your belly and your clit. The sensation has you rocking your hips slightly, and you moan at the feeling. Terry looks down at you with a cocky, predatory smile, increasing the speed and intensity of his teasing, which in turn makes you move more in response.

“See, sweetheart? I know how to make you feel good, no matter what’s going on in that silly little head of yours. It’s my job to take care of you, to please you, just like you’ll do for me,” he tells you with a serene smile, and his words just make so much sense in this moment.

“Yes, Terry,” you agree, releasing one hand from his jacket beneath you to cover your mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure as one of his hands moves down your body to tease your clit insistently, his hips pumping his cock in and out in short thrusts, mostly staying buried inside of you. “You feel so good, so right…”

“That’s right, babygirl, you were made for this, made for me,” he purrs, picking up his pace and gradually pulling out further and further until every surge of his hips fills you completely, making your toes curl. It still hurts, and you’re still quite overwhelmed, tears pouring down your face as you try to stay quiet. But underneath that, you feel a bone-deep sense of satisfaction and completion, like Terry was claiming you so deeply and fully that you truly belong to him now. And now that you’re feeling this way, you realize that that’s exactly what you want.

“Mhnn, Terry! More, please!” you beg, watching Terry’s eyes darken with lust as you give yourself to him.

“You want more, baby?” he teases you, his tone almost mocking as he bends down, your legs parting for him easily. “We’re running out of time. You’ll have to come quickly if you want to come now,” he warns, his hand returning to where your hips are joined to rub your clit. “I’ll take my time with you when I get you home.”

You are arched up off the seat at this point, your shoulders and head the only things on the bench, and you’ve covered your mouth with both your hands, desperately trying to contain your moans as you start to clench against him, your legs squeezing around his hips as you orgasm. Terry is spurred on as you tighten around him, pumping into you hard and fast just a few more times before growling, coming hard inside you with a moan of your name.

He pulls out of you quickly, tucking himself back into his jeans before moving your legs to the side, giving him enough space to sit beside you. He gently gathers you into his lap, reaching onto your seat to grab his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You’re trembling like a leaf, clearly overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. You don’t even know how to feel right now.

Terry moves to soothe as you burst into tears, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Ssshhh, it’s okay babygirl,” he says, stroking your hair and clutching you tighter to his chest. “I know, your first time can be a lot. This is totally normal, and I’m here with you,” he coos, and you fight through your emotions, forcing yourself to look up at him.

“Really? It’s okay?” you ask him hopefully, glad he isn’t taking offence and incorrectly assuming that you regretted what you had just done together. It had just been so, so much…

“Of course it is, sweetheart. Unless you think you regret it?” he asks after a brief pause, and your heart drops.

“No, not at all!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing yourself closer. “It was wonderful, Terry, I don’t regret it at all.”

He hums in agreement, kissing your forehead. “I’m glad to hear it, doll. I feel so much closer to you now,” he confesses to you in a low voice, nuzzling into your neck, and you giggle.

Suddenly, there’s a whirring noise of the ride turning back on, and you begin your slow descent to the ground. Immediately, you tense up on his lap, looking down at yourself with horror.

“Oh no! I’m a mess, what am I going to do?!” you gasp, looking at Terry with wide eyes. Calm as can be, he fastens the jacket around you, pulling it up to your neck. Now, the only part of your dress that was visible was your skirt, and it seemed normal enough. So that was that dealt with, at least.

He reaches into one of the jacket pockets next, pulling out a spare hair tie that he always kept on him just in case, gently taming your hair and pulling it back into a half-ponytail to keep the more stubborn locks out of your eyes and relatively in place.

“There, all better,” he tells you, cupping one hand under your chin.

“But I’ve been crying, and I… I can feel…” you trail off, embarrassed, not wanting to say it out loud. Biting your lip, you force yourself to be an adult and lean over to whisper in his ear, shy even though you were the only two people on this thing. “I can feel your come starting to leak down my legs,” you tell him in a whisper, and you swear he shudders before responding.

“Well, if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll knock their lights out,” he tells you firmly, his jaw clenched just at the thought of someone looking at you. “We’ll be out of here as soon as possible, doll. Just walk normally, and then we can get you in the car and cleaned up, alright?”

You nod, trying to calm your breathing, and Terry gives you a pleased smile, like he’s proud of you. "That's my girl," he purrs approvingly, and you return his smile.

You complete your descent and Terry immediately hops out of the ride first to shield you from onlookers, reaching one hand behind himself that you can cling to for support as you disembark.

“She got a little frightened being stuck up there for so long, that’s all,” he explains to the small crowd surrounding you once you get off the ride. Several people have taken note of your tear-stained face, and how you’re shivering from inside his leather jacket, clinging to it to make sure that nobody notices your torn clothing. You accept Terry’s arm wrapping itself around your shoulders in an affectionate embrace as he kisses the top of your head comfortingly, and the crowd seems appeased, dispersing.

Thank goodness you have Terry, you think to yourself as you take his hand, letting him lead you back to the car, trying not to stumble. He was so good at talking you both out of situations that could get you into trouble.

“Come on, sweet thing,” he purrs in your ear, tugging you along and making you quicken your pace to keep up with him. “Let’s go home.”

---

He's mean. He's so mean! HOW CAN WE LOVE THIS MAN?! But we do.

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #terry silver x reader #kk3 #karate kid #the karate kid 3 #dark desires october #extremely dark #smut #graphic smut #gaslighting #coercion #dubious consent #honestly probably noncon #threats of violence #maybe don't read if you're scared of heights

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