#and please share your (non-abuse-apologism) thoughts with me!

[jonkentdeservesbetter]

So, now that I’ve used 24 hours (+ a longfic from a completely different fandom) to calm down from the end of the last episode, #3, summoning all the child-abuse apologists of this fandom, I can share a theory. I actually posted about this one before, back when S2 had recently aired it’s finale, and Mannheim was name-dropped by John Diggle, to JHI.

(This is messier than I wanted, but tbh I’m still really fried from the fandom shittiness; it’s unsurprisingly not dissipated, so, yeah. Largely I just wanted to get this out before forgetting, since I like this theory quite a bit - mostly, I think, because it feels probable.)

While this show would not be described as comics-accurate by literally anyone, there’s a history of “totally unexpected” (read: out of fucking left-field; all misdirection and no foreshadowing groundwork) plot-twists, yet we are apparently not getting that with S3’s main villain; as was, iirc, stated in interviews.

That said, there’s always at least one thing put in that, because of how the show uses comics-canon, we can’t spot coming. It’d be pretty interesting if this time, instead of the writers playing with comic details to create a fake-out not comics-accurate, they made a plot-twist that is, plus actually well-received by most, as well as, shockingly, has gotten foreshadowing. Yep: Jon getting his powers.

I won’t go over every detail of foreshadowing Jon getting powers, because it’s a list, and I am…verbose. Instead, let’s look at ep. 3x03.

In episode 3, we not only actually get some real focus on Jon doing “hero stuff,” which we’d been ‘promised’ by the show-runners would be the case for Jon at last, but which many burnt out fans would not believe in, we also got something else. Kryptonian blood experiments, done on Mannheim’s orders.

How does this connect to Jon, specifically?

For those who aren’t aware, and for those who may have simply forgotten, in comics-canon, when Lois was investigating Bruno Mannheim and Intergang, they kidnapped her and Jon. Now, maybe they don’t know that Jon’s blood is special, or maybe, since nobody treats him as Kryptonian, Jon did the blood-drive without anyone even being aware, tipping Mannheim off to taking him.

I don’t need it to be one or the other, for my theory: it just matters if they’re kidnapped.

Because in the comics? When Jon is taken with Lois, and Superman can’t save them (not in-time, but also, Mannheim is able to hide them from Clark in the show, so), Jon’s powers awaken. He gets them out of there.

Things of course would be very different in the show, in other regards, like Mannheim possibly taking Jon to refill the blood supply he lost in the explosion, and also, that, like in the very similar Smallville plot, so long as one has access to continuous injections of Kryptonian blood - like medication - they’re able to survive diseases that would be fatal, Lois could also be experimented on with his blood while they’re captured, which helps her cancer. It isn’t a magically cure-all that would eliminate cancer, because it has to be a continuous supply, and there may also be the factor of blood compatibility - although, that likely wouldn’t be an issue for the two.

It would further Mannheim’s plans, would establish his goals more clearly to us, and yet, at the same time, it would show exactly how far he’s willing to go; what evil he does.

It would also, naturally, give Jon his powers. Plus, while we’ve had little things building up to this - the blood-drive flyer, finding bags of blood, the identification of the blood as from Clark (as Kryptonian) - in the show, we have also gotten interviews that’ve said Jon’s plot is something that’ll have him finally following in his father’s footsteps, and that Bishop is really excited for the fans to see this season - Bishop, who’s hoping for Jon to be Superboy in the show, and talked about wanting Jon to fly, and watched seasons 1 & 2 alongside us.

So is there hope? Will Jon’s powers finally awaken? Well…the poster quotes hint at it possibly being true. The question, however, with this show and Jon, is if follow-through will ever appear, or drop off a cliff suddenly.

Personally? I would LOVE if Mannheim not only came after Lois (because we all know she’s a threat, and she JUST destroyed his blood supply), but also took Jon, preferably because he found out about his blood (that would be a great time for SOMEONE to at last say “you’re Kryptonian” to him!! finally!).

Whether of not Mannheim discovers Jon’s got Kryptonian genetics or not - and think how much it would up the stakes if he did, because he would definitely put the pieces together, not to mention if he experiments with Jon’s blood with Lois she can believably recover without it being a terribly ableist magic one-and-done cure, instead creating a very unique ‘medication’ that really could only be used for her, as well as would have such a short supply it wouldn’t matter if it didn’t, and that it explains itself for why the Lane-Kents can’t risk anyone else knowing; because it would out their family and place the boys in immediate danger - either way, Jon gets his powers, and it would be both original enough for the show, and comics-accurate enough for the fans wanting that.

[bibibbon]

I see that you're anti Bakugou blog, can I ask something because I'm really curious? Don't worry it's not hate ask (even if I'm Bakudeku shipper).

What I want to ask is the same in this post :

"I get preferring other ships, but if you hate them (BKDK), cannot stand them... you don't love the story. How could you? The narrative is built around their relationship. How they feel about each other at any given time is how you can tell the story is progressing. In both cases, they want to compete and surpass each other, which motivates them to train harder, to be better.

This is also why I don't get people who say they love one character but hate the other. Like, you cannot love Midoriya while hating Bakugou and vice versa.

They don't need to be your favorite characters, but you have to recognize their importance to your fav and their character arc. That is simply logical, in my opinion."

Thoughts, please?

First of all thank you for the question and not sending any hate comments that's very appreciated by me!

This is an interesting perspective and interpretation of the series, even if I don't see eye to eye with you or agree with this interpretation thank you for sharing it.

To begin this of I want to say that I don't particularly agree with the statement that you provided above. While the story in itself does revolve around izuku and bakugo to an extent its not exactly that big and I would argue that it shouldn't be that big of an involvement overall.

Izuku and bakugo's rivalry or the extended version which is the Canon one harms both the characters and the plot. This is because of how their rivalry naturally is which is toxic. @sapphic-agent goes into depth about how the wonder duo fails and of the toxicity of their supposed rivalry.

From the beginning izuku and bakugo's relationship was unhealthy whether that be from izukus non stop admiration even when bakugo abused him or bakugo who thought that izuku was a nuisance in his path. I think the best route for bakugos character was for him to ditch the rivalry route towards anyone. Bakugo as a character needed to accept that there are various people who will be weaker or stronger or different than him. He also needed to accept that society proping him up as this next big hero and ultimately feeding his ego was also wrong.

In the end I still have a lot of issues with bakugo's character individually that I did talk about previously and I think that overall he should of had an arc of breaking down his harmful thoughts, beliefs and behaviours. His arc needed more focus on his character and how he treats other people not just izuku.

I also want to argue that bakugo's arc isn't that well written at all. He doesn't really change and the change we do see from his underwhelming due to a number of reasons whether that be his horrible apology or his behaviour not really changing and being played off as a gag or the way we see bakugo still uphold his old behaviour heck it's all around his arc him being the only character to follow the idea of not saving someone or him just being hyperfixated on a rivalry that doesn't have equal footing.

I think the bakugo vs izuku fight part 2 showed a lot of bakugo and izukus problems within their relationship really well. I also think that was the arc where bakugo should of been separated from izuku having people acknowledge the toxicity of their relationship as bakugo thinks izuiu owes him an explanation when he doesn't or how izuku is supposed to overcome his admiration for bakugo and realise that what bakugo did to him was wrong. @delawaredetroit made a lot of analysis based on that fight which I think is worth checking out because they point out good bakugo critiques that horikoshi doesn't address and simply let's slide for bakugo while painting his and izukus relationship as perfectly fine and a healthy rivalry that moves the story.

In the end for bakugo he becomes a character attached to izuku ultimately having no real relevance outside of izuku and that sucks for him as he isn't even able to grow an we aren't able to see that change with the way he Interacts with the world.

Now moving onto izuku's character. Izuku due to horikoshis writing decisions also suffered a lot due this supposes rivalry. Izuku doesn't ever acknowledge the abuse that bakugo committed ultimately since he doesn't ever get to either introspect or freely express emotions about this issue his whole character starts to lack introspection and hinders him from forming valuable character relationships that can help push the narrative forward as he comes to understand heroes, civillians and villains alike. Izuku also never gets a say in the relationship he ultimately becomes more passive and a shell of his former self as the series goes on to the point that we don't see him react to losing his quirk (no the moment is focused on bakugo crying instead) and we don't see izukus response to the apology that bakugo offered.

It seems that throughout their relationship izuku who once had potential and so much going for him went through one of the worst cases of character regressions and assassinations that I have ever seen . At least before the rivalry started we saw izuku express fear, awe,anger and so many more emotions towards bakugo but now he is an empty shell a clean slate that cannot feel any negative emotions towards him at all.

Going back to my original point the narrative isn't fully built around their relationship and while they do have major themes such as win to save and save to win, their relationship in itself doesn't bring much to the narrative it actually just harms their characters and makes them lack depth even more.

Izuku already has a character who is supposed to be his rival, whose supposed to challenge his views, whose supposed to understand him and be understood by him and that character is shigaraki yet horikoshi doesn't build up on their relationship and only throws parallels around when it comes to those two making the final war arc a dissatisfactionary and disappointing rollercoster filled with mountains of wasted potential.

From the beginning the story to me had a clear path that bakugo wasn't supposed to be a primary character in the series he was supposed to be something that izuku overcame, he was supposed to be a challenge that showed the damage that society caused but that wasn't the case and the direction that hori took the story ended up harming every aspect of the story whether that be the unexplored plot point of quirkless discirmation (which many speculate is unexplored to make bakugo not look bad) or the final fight between shigaraki and izuku that lacked any build up whatsoever (toga and ochako had a better one because they had time to develop)

So to sum it up while the two characters relationship is present within the series its not a well written one at all and it isn't a primary relationship that develops both izuku and bakugo but more of a relationship that develops bakugos character and hinders izukus character.

[takeurexam]

dynasty || IV

genre:

non idol au, time travel, romance, rivals to allies to friends to lovers, crown prince to emperor taehyun, reader gets appointed as an concubine

pairing(s):

kang taehyun x reader and this random couple on this chapter that gets divorced

(warning, this does not reflect the REAL idols personality, and no smut will be written to respect the idol, and i am not comfortable as well, and the taehyun in this ff is not the actual taehyun)

story:

in which you, an excellent law student about to graduate collage suddenly gets dragged into the past, meeting the famous-fawned over emperor of the kang's dynansty. but you getting dragged into this mess was beyond a mystery, and it seems like you have something deep to discover. meddling with the past is a risky decision after all.

dynasty masterlist

4. Bother

(tw: mention of abuse, cheating and scars)

Awkward, was one thing you could say in your current situation. You were at the royal camp where the people in the palace stay over as the prince does his business in Daedo.

You, General Beomgyu, and the prince himself, Taehyun all sat down by three tables which had the whole view of the forest.

"So, care to explain?" General Beomgyu sips his tea as he looks at you both with a both terrifying yet confusing look. Taehyun speaks up but gets cut off by you, "So basically-"

You could feel Taehyun's glare yet continue, "I was doing some tasks for Soobin as usual, you know that General. And somehow I fell asleep in the mountain top and it actually collapsed? And the Crown Prince found me and we just you know, talked. And then we heard an assassin! He was really quiet with his movements, and I suspected he wasnt from the palace! Way to go, me! And me and him ran and we bumped into you." You ramble on as the General listens to you carefully with Taehyun sighing.

"I understand." Beomgyu finishes his cup of tea whilist yours remained half, and Taehyun almost finished. You and Taehyun look at Beomgyu with eager looks to know his next words, "But dont think im letting you go this easily, you put the Crown Prince's life in danger, and you must do something to pay back." Taehyun sighs at Beomgyu's words as the General nodded with a satisfied look.

"Im in, but on one condition." You wink as you snap your fingers, "Send a message to Soobin that im here. I dont want him and Hobak worried."

Beomgyu nods and stands up from his seat, "The Head Eunuch will guide you, I have places where I have to be." He leaves you two as Taehyun just looks at you.

"I apologize. Sincerely. But you dont have a choice, either be beheaded or do whatever they need you to do." He crosses his arms as he sips the last portion of his tea, "Head Eunuch, please assist them." The Head Eunuch walks over and gives you a list of things to do.

"Well, you can just choose one from General Beomgyu's current list." The Eunuch rolls the paper down which reveals a long list of chores that reached up until the ground.

"Hey! What the hell!" Your eyes widen along with your jaw, as Taehyun looks at the list with a smirk before leaving you and the Eunuch. "Hey! Taehyun! Do not leave me here!" The Head Eunuch widens his eyes at you calling the prince by name, "That is forbidden! Please refer to him as-"

You pause and look at the Eunuch, "Hey, I dont care. That bitch is leaving me to do this stuff when it was his fault! Asshole!" You shout to Taehyun as he walks away unbothered, with a smirk wiped all over his face.

"Fuck this." You slam your head on the table.

"Okay. It seems that I need one, and I already have the perfect thing to do from this list." You pull out the marker that you bit in your mouth, before circling the words, "Divorce! Wooho!" You shout with your fists punching the air.

"Wait, im two hundred years from my time, so divorces are barely granted here. The royal court dosent allow it so women just stay married or not allowed to remarry even if the husband is dead or abusing her or something." You share your thoughts out loud, as you read the papers, you look up to see some eunuchs, court ladies and guards listening to your rambling.

You scan the papers to read the woman's filing for a divorce. "Dang, the man got a side chick and abusive? What an ass. But in this case, its pretty hard to do this because this dynasty rarely grants divorces." You think out loud as you note down some stuff on paper.

"Head Eunuch!" You shout as the Head Eunuch runs to you, "Yes, royal guest?" He raises his brow.

"Ew, dont call me that. Anyways, can I meet the lady over here? I want to do this and I want her to get the divorce." You grin as the Head Eunuch had a face of suprise, "This is a challenging case, are you sure?" He furrows his brows as he looks at you two times to make sure you were serious. You were.

"Im sure."

You knock on the woman's door that leads to her room as the Head Eunuch stood behind you, "Miss- I mean, lady!" The door opens which reveals a woman with tears falling down her eyes with several tissues beside her and a very messy room.

"Can we talk?"

You three sat down the dinner table of the family, "So miss, I cant guarantee you sucess on this one. It is a struggle to get divorces in this dynasty, so we must go through this very carefully. I need evidence of the man hurting you."

"For example, the items he used, your scars or bruises." She rolls up her long sleeve which reveals a ton of burn marks, bruises and slices.

"Okay, I see. Now, I want you to not cure these for just this day only. We will be seen in court tomorrow so I want this to be one of the evidence, now can you show me the items he used to harm you?"

She holds every single item that he used and places them down the table, "A wooden small plank, whip, hot metal to burn and these.." You look at every single one carefully before looking at the lady, "This is good. But I need one last thing."

"Excuse me." You smile at the lady who opened the door for you, with a dull experssion on her face. "Are you perhaps looking for a letter from Cheolsu?" You sway around the paper in your hands, as her dull expression turns into a fit of joy.

"Oh my, yes! I've been so worried sick." She grabs the letter and reads it, "I know he's been worried. Thank you." She shuts the door and squeals as she reads the letter.

"No problem." You awkwardly smile as you leave her.

The Head Eunuch appears right beside you and questions, "So, what is the plan?" You chuckle as you explain to him, "First, we deliver notes to her from Cheolsu, the client's husband. That woman is the other one hes seeing, and of course, every letter has a seal. The client used Cheolsu's seal and I wrote a letter."

"I read a little of Cheolsu's letters to know the kind of person he is. I also gathered the letters he sent in the past to add to it, and this final letter is the last bit of evidence we need." The Head Eunuch listens to you carefully as he understands your plan.

You and the Eunuch walk around Daedo for a while before spotting a familiar figure, "Oh! Kang Taehyun- Wait. We gotta get out of here." You pull the Head Eunuch into a place where the Prince was far from.

"I do not want to pull up with his bullshit!" You groan as the Eunuch just sighs at you.

"Who's bullshit?" The voice of the man you've been avoiding rings around your ear as he appeared in your back and pulls your shoulder to turn you to him.

Your face scrunches as you avoid eye contact with the man and turn your head, "How has your task been going?" He looks at the Head Eunuch, "Miss right here has been doing well so far, I have a report written somewhere which is all of her plans and expected results."

The Crown Prince chuckles and looks back at you, "Excellent job then. I'll be on my way now." He smirks at you before almost pushing you as he removes his hands from your shoulders and walking away.

"Rude much." You roll your eyes as you and the Eunuch walk away, back to the other woman's house. "Now, lets initiate the next part. Lets go fetch her letter." He nods as you both head on over to her home.

The two of you arrive as you knock on this familliar door once again, "Cheolsu has requested a reply from you, my lady. Have you finished?" She giggles before handing you back the letter, "Please tell him I wish him well on the divorce with his wife." Your face almost turns into a disgusted one but you control yourself from doing sk.

"Noted." The door closes as your eyebrows furrow as you felt some anger within you, "I feel so bad." The Head Eunuch nods at your opinion as you both walk back to the client's house to gather all the evidence and bring it to the royal camp for the General and call it a day.

General Beomgyu observes all the material you've given him, "This is evidence to defend the client?" You nod as you start to explain to him, "Firstly, we have the material and proof about harming his wife. He used a small wooden plank, hot metal and a whip to harm his wife. One of our major evidence is her scars and bruises, which will be seen tomorrow."

"Second, we have Cheolsu's other woman. Our main proof here is the letters sent between them, and since their seals can be seen, it will be proven that they have been talking behind the back of Cheolsu's wife." General Beomgyu pays good attention to your words as his hands gripped the table.

"Lastly, act of treason. The wife showed a ledger of Cheolsu's crimes against the royal palace, which could also double his punishment, and this is up to you, General." He looks at you before nodding and pulls his hand away.

"Thank you. Your help was very useful." He closes off all the evidence with a curtain as you pay your respects to him and leave his tent.

"How unique."

You were provided with a tent tonight as a gift for your hard work and dedication. You were also rewarded with food and some clothes made out of royal silk to add to it.

"Paradise. Using law skills is amazing." You grin as you sip your cold water and placing it back on the table beside you.

"I cant sleep. Im gonna go out a little bit." You mumble to yourself before standing up and bringing a small knife incase any trouble surrounds you.

You step our of your tent and you are greeted with the bright moon and the night sky with a generous amount of stars. The night was gorgeous today and it brings a good smile out of your face.

The royal camp was a little big enough to explore in, a lot of guards stood by incase the Prince was harmed, but you noticed them acting lazy and a little tired too, but some have their awarness strong up.

"You?"

"Kang Taehyun?"

You both bump into each other in the middle of the camp, "Why are you awake?" He raises a brow at you, "Shouldnt I be asking that?"

Sighing, you both walk the same way instead to have a conversation.

<previous chapter:

>next chapter

[bluvlet]

Your trolley problem art is incredible and made me think about those characters in ways I hadn’t before – I’m sure someone asked you already but PLEASE share your thoughts about that episode, I too am tormented by it and the question of whether it’s good or not

Thank you so much for your lovely words about my art! I feel like I should preface anything I say with the information that a lot of how I view and interpret things comes in the form of pattern seeking, which can be very ‘magical thinking’ at times. If I say anything that feels like I’ve jumped through several hoops without you to get there please let me know and I’ll try my best to explain my thought process behind it.

I'm concerned my response will be rather disappointing because honestly I don’t know what I really think about this episode. I don’t know what it's going for, or what it’s trying to say. The only reason I’ve written so much about it is because I struggle to process it in the confines of my own head. The best I can offer is several unrelated paragraphs about things I’ve turned over in my mind the most. Apologies I can’t offer anything in the way of substantial analysis.

The thing I’ve rambled about the most to my friends (and what I admit is my most outlandish opinion about this episode) is a (for lack of a better descriptor) homoerotic subtext I’ve picked up on regarding the presentation of Blake and Drew’s relationship - which I find to be a reflection of Blake’s relationship with Ellie. Because Drew and Blake are the only characters who appear on screen in the episode (especially in the first half of the episode, before Ellie is mentioned) in order to seed the idea that Blake is an abuser, the writers have to write that aspect of his character into the way he treats Drew. This results in a lot of the allusions to Blake having assaulted Ellie coming in the form of his interactions with Drew. Some of the best examples of this are Blake putting sugar in Drew’s tea after Drew said he didn’t want any, his insistence to force forms of therapy onto Drew without consent, and obviously how he immediately decides to slip one into his tea as soon as Drew combats this (i.e, as soon as Blake feels like he’s losing control over Drew’s behaviour, he tries to sedate him). These work to foreshadow Blake’s nasty history before it's revealed to the audience. By themselves I don’t find these particularly homoerotic, they only become so by virtue of what they represent about Blake’s character (that him preying on his patients is a pattern of behaviour.) I think this subtext exists so strongly in my mind because there are no other examples of Blake behaving in this way with people other than Ellie and then Drew. Blake’s mistreatment of his patients becomes to me almost associated with sexuality, because he takes advantage of Ellie and then treats Drew in a similar manner, without there being another example of him taking advantage of someone non-sexually. When I talk about this subtext it’s in a removed way as something the writers almost definitely didn’t intend but nonetheless is implied by the writing. They have to characterise Blake as a ‘sadist’ and abuser for the narrative, but the episode's nature as a two hander results in this being taken out on Drew. I don’ t think those were Blake’s intentions or anything, I think he was just hoping he’d get Drew on his client list. His violation of Drew’s boundaries throughout the episode is, in a literal sense and intended, to be a platonic display of control and authority as a doctor figure. But when the only other example the narrative gives of his behaviour with past patients is Ellie, that threat lurks between the lines.

I refer to Blake’s relationship with Drew as an example of him mistreating his patients because I think that's how Blake views his relationship with Drew in the first half of the episode. Blake’s treatment of Drew has its foundations in the belief that Blake knows more than Drew, and should exercise control over him because of it. It does not matter that Drew is not his patient because Blake treats him like one anyways. He only drops the idea of making Drew his patient once he realises Drew is Ellie’s father. Drew’s existence then becomes an inconvenience to him and a threat to his career, so he has to get rid of him. I see this as another mirroring of his treatment of Ellie. Blake’s view of people seems to be hierarchical; he decides the value of people based on what he thinks of them and what he can get from them. This aligns with how he answers Drew’s interrogation about the trolley problem - it depends on who’s on the tracks.

Another thing which struck me is something I’ve been crudely referring to as the ‘transposition’ of characters in the episode. Each character assumes the role of another. I've already disclosed how similar I think Drew and Ellie are in their dynamics with Blake. There is also the obvious parallels between Blake and Drew through their roles as fathers, Drew’s attempt to force Blake into his position (‘I want you to know what it's like to be me’), Drew imitating Blake with what he does to Robbie and Blake’s understanding of himself as a replacement for Ellie’s estranged father (Drew). Not revealed until the final moments, Drew also acts as a surrogate for Robbie. How Blake treats Drew is directly connected to Robbie’s fate. Additionally, Robbie is punished for the sins of his father, the same way Drew believes himself responsible for putting Ellie in harm’s way.

In the scene where he pleads with Blake to confess, Drew says ‘father to father’ and ‘don’t let me die not knowing’. Ostensibly these are Drew referring to what Blake did to Ellie, but I actually think at this moment Drew is thinking about Robbie and what will happen to him if Blake kills Drew. Of course it is all dependent on your interpretation of Drew’s character and how guilty he feels about burying Robbie. Drew knows what he’s done to Robbie is killing him. If Drew did not consider ‘letting die’ with the same severity as ‘killing’ then I struggle to find a reason why he’d be going after Blake in the first place. What Drew does to Robbie is his way of recreating what Blake did to Ellie - or atleast what Drew thinks happened - which Drew thinks Blake should be punished for. The act of burying Robbie must disgust Drew because he is imitating Blake and he finds Blake disgusting. When he tells Blake ‘I didn’t kill him, you let him die’ before setting himself alight, I understand it as Drew mocking Blake’s repudiation of guilt over Ellie (‘I didn’t do anything’) rather than it being how Drew actually feels. I'm not sure why Drew does not tell Blake about Robbie until he’s decided they will both die. The only thing I can think of is that it’s because Drew was not aware of the circumstances of Ellie's death until it was too late. As I mentioned I think Drew intended to recreate Ellie's death with Robbie. But I’m not sure. I think Drew puts too much faith in Blake to do the right thing.

I read Drew’s outburst (everything from the laughter yoga up until him coming back out the bathroom to apologise) as a Freudian slip of sorts - unplanned and not a part of his little character he’s playing. Drew is an unstable character, but I don't find him a particularly violent one. When compared to the rest of in9s revenge tragedy catalogue, Drew is the only character whose plan involves putting his own life at risk. Also, I don’t have anything to say about it but it has always stuck in my mind how he brings a spud gun and not a real one.

During their conversation about the Szondi test, Drew’s results describe him as repressing feelings of ‘self-loathing’ and ‘inadequacy’. Up until the final minutes I find it a fair characterisation. He forms this intricate revenge plot, but struggles to keep a hold of it. He tries to get his daughter help for her mental health and ends up unintentionally putting her into the hands of an abuser. He takes Blake hostage, and almost ends up as Blake’s murder victim. He tries to get a confession out of Blake, but Blake won't confess. Even the character Drew creates for Blake is a man who tried to end his own life, but was stopped. Drew’s character is defined by a sense of inadequacy and a lack of control. The only control Drew holds onto in the entire episode is knowing Robbie’s location, and it costs him his life to keep it.

I’m still rather puzzled by the use of the trolley problem (it’s the hardest aspect of the episode for me to understand the purpose of) beyond the recurring theme of in9s revenge plots having the persecutor use an aspect of the target's area of expertise to entrap them. I feel like trying to view the episode through the lens of it ‘being a trolley problem’ makes it fall victim to its inconsistencies. I don’t know how it was supposed to fit into Drew’s plan other than being the catalyst for his thought process behind it. I think he outgrows it too quickly and it becomes muddled in what he’s trying to say.

I hope at least a small percent of this makes sense. This episode is an amalgamation of fascinating little fragments that coalesce into something rather hollow. To me it's an echo of better episodes, but I'm kind of in love with how confused it makes me that I can’t help coming back to pick at it.

[spicysix]

me and you (we can't lose) | eddie munson X reader

You met a sweet boy by an alley and shared some cigarrettes. You had the best time of your life and made some plans for the perfect future. But Hawkins is no good place to live, and he went to sell drugs to the cheer captain and didn't come back.

warnings: fem!reader. angst angst angst! drinks and drugs abuse, unreliable narrator, canon compliant, canonical character death, hurt/no confort. eddie is dead, okay? he's dead. i'm sorry. also, maybe a little ooc? word count: 4.5k author's note: baby's first try at angst! based on the song 'all I wanted' by Avril Lavigne (feat. Mark Hoppus). not beta-read. if it sucks, don't let me know. if you liked it, please do let me know - reblogs and comments are worshipped like divinities. happy (not so happy, sorry) reading! ♡

↳ read on ao3

A light breeze passed by you, raising the hairs in your arms. The smell of dampened earth around you and the sound of the drizzle on the clothed surface of the umbrella above you was somehow soothing, even if not soothing enough.

You couldn’t see anyone around you, but, anyway, your eyes were focused.

Staring at it, as memories flooded your mind.

~

I was always crushing on the wrong boys I was always yelling when I should’ve been sitting down Memories of cigarettes and polaroids

“Will you shut the fuck up, for god’s sake?!” you said loudly, and Chance rolled his eyes at you.

“You’re the one talking non-stop!” he countered, and grabbed your arm tightly. “Look, I just wanna apologize, okay? Please,” he called for you, his voice not pleading at all, but you were already forcing your wrist out of his grip.

“Give up, man, okay? You think I’m someone who’ll just bite my tongue and keep my head low for you, but that’s not how it goes. That’s not me. You want a little bitch to boss around, search through your cheerleaders.”

You turned around, ready to leave, but Chance was determined to try and force you into his wants. He pulled you by the arm once again, backing you into the wall behind you, forcing air out of your lungs in a gasp.

“You’re being a bitch right now,” he sneered, voice low, dangerous, a threat. “Now, you listen here-”

“I think you should leave, man,” a different voice came from your left, louder than Chance’s, from the opening of the alley Chance had you cornered in.

You knew him. Eddie Munson. Regional drug dealer, metalhead, nerd leader, trailer scum, and known freak.

Not your words.

The Hideout was just around the corner, the bar where you knew bands like Munson’s band played from time to time.

“I think you should stay out of this, freak,” Chance mocked, and Munson rolled his eyes. But the first boy’s grip on your arms was a little less tight now.

“I’m not gonna say it again, man,”

“Or what?”

Munson pulled up the sleeves of his leather jacket and walked closer to you and the boy bothering you, a slow strut, also dangerous, also threatening. His face was stern, not once looking at you, focused on the boy in front of you, and you already knew Chance well enough to know that the movement in his Adam’s apple and the tightening of his jawline meant fear.

When Munson reached a closer distance, you could see the height difference. He was two or three inches taller, shoulders broader. Chance was just starting on the basketball team and thought he was who? Billy Hargrove? Grow up, man.

“I’m not sure you wanna learn what,” Eddie took something out of his back pocket. A switchblade. Chance saw it, and gulped again. Retreated from you, leaving your upper arm sore - would probably leave a bruise.

“Don’t you think this is over, bitch,” he practically growled at you, before passing through Eddie, bumping shoulders, but Eddie’s eyes were finally on you now, and he didn’t deflect them elsewhere as Chance left.

“Could've saved myself, y’know. But thanks anyway,” you said, and Eddie’s features were instantly softer. He stood put where he was, not coming closer, but not leaving either.

“I know you could, you’re scary yourself. But shitheads like that one don’t tend to listen to you unless you’re taller than them,”

“Makes sense,” you shrugged, and he still wasn’t leaving. You fished your pack of Camels from your back pocket and offered one to Eddie. “As a token of gratitude,”

He finally approached you, a sweet smile on his lips, leaning onto the wall beside you and reaching for the cigarette. “Thank you.”

You smoked in silence, side by side, for what felt like hours - even though it very likely wasn’t more than thirty minutes. Didn’t stop at the first cigarette, each of you smoking one more before sharing the final one - fuck your lungs, I guess. The touch of his fingers against yours sparked something electric, the thought of putting on your lips something that had just touched his lips giving you chills. And you peered at him from the corners of your eyes to see a light blush on his ears. Maybe he was thinking the same. You smiled.

“Need a ride?” he offered. Your smile grew wider.

~

Kiss you in the kitchen of a house that burned down I remember waiting on the sunrise

“Come on, you old duds. Gonna leave you behind,” Gareth’s voice wasn’t far ahead enough that you couldn’t listen, even though you had no sight of him in the dark woods anymore.

“Christ’s sake Gareth, slow it down!” Eddie complained by your side, making you laugh at his grumpiness.

It had been his idea to come to the old Creel House, wanting to “spice things up” from a normal Halloween, get drunk on a supposedly haunted house, maybe play some Ouija after smoking some weed. Y’know. The usual freak behavior.

And you couldn’t believe that having met him in an alley by a rock bar would’ve led you to this a few months later. He saved your ass, took you home, bid you goodnight with that sweet smile of his, waited for you to get inside your house before leaving. And yet the next day he actually seemed surprised to see you sitting at the table he shared with his fellow freak friends on lunch at school. But you had absolutely no complaints, as you’ve come to find out his rough exterior was reserved for assholes only, but to you he would show nothing but kindness and sweetness. And that Gareth had a sour, dry humor that could make your belly hurt from so much laughter; and that Igor was actually great at chemistry and at explaining it, and helped you study for your tests; and that Jeff could cook a bomb carbonara from scratch and was the best hugger ever. And that they were all lovely, wonderful souls, mistreated because of biased views only, and that you could also come to love being a freak alongside them.

The sight of the Creel House took your mind off your thoughts, and Gareth was trying to see something past the old dusty windows as Jeff and Igor were working on opening the door. The silence around you was unsettling, something in your stomach growing - a mixture of fear and excitement.

“We’re here, rats, calm your tits,” Eddie said and went to help his friends with the door. You stopped beside Gareth and could see through the glass: the peeling wallpaper, the furniture left behind, and was suddenly remembered that a once happy family lived there until it all went to shit.

“Okay I’ll admit this is kinda freaky,” you whispered and Gareth nodded.

“At least you have your knight in shiny armor to save you from the spirits, I’ll have to rely on Jeff and Igor,” he poked your side with his elbow and you rolled your eyes at him but grinned anyway.

“He’d never use a shiny armor. He’d use a rusty one if only to make a statement. Also, when it comes to spirits I feel like he’d be the first to run off in fear. Or pass out, maybe,” you both laughed at Eddie’s expense, and turned to see him looking at you with a confused expression before calling out.

“Come on, rats, it’s open. Let’s get freaky,” and so you did.

You got sofreaky that Gareth had to go outside and puke at some point.

You got so freaky that Jeff passed out on top of a dusty, disgusting, thirty-year-old couch after double intoxication from too much booze and weed.

You got so freaky that Igor was dancing by himself with no music on, twirling around the living room with a broom, humming what sounded like Culture fucking Club.

You got so freaky that you and Eddie decided to go check the kitchen for any running water even though you knew the house had been abandoned like, twenty years ago, and wasn’t surprised that the water was cut off at some point. Yet you lingered by the kitchen anyway, you sat at the counter, and Eddie was rambling about the story of the Creels for the fourth time that night, trying to scare you off maybe. But all you could focus on was the way he’d gesture around while talking non-stop, and the way his hair was frizzy like a halo framing his face and looked as soft as a cloud, and the way his lips moved around each word and you wanted to shut him up with your own lips.

You got so freaky that you did just that.

“Eddie, get over here and shut the fuck up,” you called, and he came instantly.

“What, is this too scary for you, honey?” he teased despite his willingness to you.

You didn’t dignify him with an answer, just pulled him by the collar of his leather jacket and pressed your lips to his, feeling his body tensing up before relaxing, before he led one hand to your thigh and the other to your cheek, before he responded with eagerness, before you poked at his mouth with your tongue and he opened wide for you, before you could smell and feel and taste nothing but Eddie, and it was intoxicating - more than the weed and the booze, but in the most delicious of ways.

“Of course he’d get the girl,” you parted lips and Eddie jumped and tried to let go of you, but you held him close before he could run away. Because it was just Igor mocking you, his broom partner still in hand, Gareth by his side with that expression on his face of someone you could tell just puked his guts out.

“It’s the hair, I think. ‘Tis why I’m growing mine out,” Gareth answered and they both shrugged before turning around and going back to the living room.

Eddie’s ears were pink and your face was burning from getting caught, and none of you said a word even though you both chuckled lowly, and you tucked your face in his neck to hide how far gone he took you - gotta keep his ego in check, and gotta keep your tough gal image intact.

But you’ve been there for a long time now, and it was closing in to the time the Sun would come out of hiding, you could hear the birds outside chippering waiting anxiously for the brand new day; and his fingers were tracing sweet, soft caresses in your waist and soon you were just all over him again, fuck the Creels, fuck the spirits and fuck your friends, because Eddie was mumbling something like “and she’s sweet like honey too,” to himself against your lips. Because you couldn’t wait, and it was a brand new day, and Eddie’s taste was just addictive.

~

I would always fuck around and find out You were always saying I would crash down someday I would have to pass out on my friends couch

“One of these days that’s gonna be me, honey, you bet?” Eddie asked, and you didn’t have to look at him to see that he was pointing at the band performing.

“Don’t gotta bet, Eddie, I know that,” you shrugged and he looked at you, those stars in his eyes, that sly smirk on his lips. His arm was draped over your shoulders and you could barely hear each other, but it was fine. More than fine. It was the best time of your life.

You enjoyed the rest of the band set, their sound very similar to Corroded’s and, yeah, you could see them on top of a stage someday, a huge crowd, maybe some bras being thrown to the boys but Eddie would have eyes only for you. You knew that.

“Wanna head to a club next?” he asked, and you nodded. Where he’d go, you’d follow.

“One of these days that’s gonna be me, Eds!” you shouted over the loud beat, nodding at the DJ, a girl barely over your age, hair half buzzed, the rest a rainbow of colors, tattoos all over her arms and a naval piercing dangling and twinkling in the club lights.

“You’re gonna be smoking hot behind a mixing table, honey,” he answered, not shouting like you did, just a low tone voice right by your ear, and the club was cramped, the air was moist and hot and yet Eddie’s voice still gave you chills. “Open up, baby,” he commanded, and what he said you’d follow, so you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue where he placed a small pill. You swallowed, and you took a sip from the glass on your hand - didn’t remember what drink was in it anymore - and you kissed him.

And you danced, and you kissed him, and you drank, and you kissed him, and he twirled you around the dance floor, and you kissed him, and he made you open up and swallow another pill later, and you kissed him, and he shoved his hand inside your pants in the bathroom, and you kissed him.

You couldn’t tell what it was that drove you so far over the edge, if it was the substances or if it was just Eddie, but you couldn’t care less when he took you to the wildest places because you asked him to, and he took you to your higher orgasms because you begged him to, and he took care of you after every night out because he wanted to, and you kissed him and you couldn’t stop kissing him and it would never be enough.

“Sweet like honey,” he’d whisper against your thighs, pressed to a bathroom stall door, one of your legs over his shoulder and your shorts and panties almost falling from where they were barely hanging on from your boot, in danger of getting wet from whatever liquid was on the floor. And your head was buzzing and the tips of your fingers were numb but you couldn’t care less, because you wanted more of him, always, and it was the best time of your life.

“One of these days that’s gonna be us, honey,” he’d point at a couple getting out of a courthouse, they were dressed all white and cleaned up nice, and the rings on their ring fingers were polished bright as the sun above you.

And it was a brand new day, you were on your way back to Hawkins after partying another whole weekend in Indy, probably about to sleep in his bed because your parents would freak out again. And you looked at Eddie beside you, he was always beside you, and smiled, no headache could stop you from smiling at him, and his sunglasses were hiding his beautiful eyes but you could feel the warmth of their attention exclusively on you.

“But we’ll be wearing black, Eds.”

~

We were up all night so we slept all day I remember waiting on the sunrise

“Do ‘ya think they’ll take too long?” he asked, and his eyes left your intertwined fingers to stare at you instead.

“Dunno. But I think we’ll miss first period anyway,” you shrugged. “Ms. Click’s already pissed at me, what’s another time?”

He only smiled and said nothing else.

You were sitting on the van’s hood as it was parked by the curb of the road, the sun rising in front of you to a brand new day, Gareth and Jeff and Igor sleeping in the back benches. Waiting for towing because of course Eddie’s old thing would break at some point, it took her long enough. Ten miles left until Hawkins, so close and yet so far, but it was okay. You had an amazing weekend, Corroded played in a disgusting pub but it was amazing nonetheless, and you and Eddie were glued to the hip the whole time, as usual - where he’d go, there you were, following him. Just living the best time of your lives.

“That guy from the bar seemed to like the band. Think he’ll call you over to play again sometime?” you asked, not enjoying the silence after so much noise for three nights straight.

“Sure hope so. I wouldn’t mind living in Indy,” he replied, somehow shifting closer to you, draping his arms around your shoulders and kissing your temple. “Me, you, the boys and a huge fucking dog. The ugliest mutt we can find in a shelter, ‘whaddya say?”

“Sounds like a fucking dream, Eds.”

“Sure is, honey,” and he cradled your face in his hands and he kissed you, gentle and slow, and the rising sun was not the only thing to heat your skin, because you revolved around Eddie and he showered you in all his light and warmth and he was addictive and you couldn’t get enough, couldn’t wait to live your dreams with him, always beside you, you knew he’d always be beside you.

Glowing from the inside out, you let yourself just kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him. Until the towing came, until you went to school without a night’s sleep, but you didn’t care because Eddie was all you needed to power up.

~

And maybe it was for the best, you used to call me useless We’re floating to the nothingness ‘cause after all the truth is The only things we leave behind are noise and absolution I act like everything is fine, when I’m plotting revolution

“Eds, seriously? Chrissy Cunningham?”

“Well, she seemed nice enough. And she definitely has money enough, and we need the money for our plans, okay?” his voice wasn’t as sweet as it usually was when he talked to you, and he seemed jumpy, nervous, as he went through the shit in the van’s glove compartment, looking for god knows what.

“Can’t I at least be there?”

He paused. Looked at you from the corner of his eyes before looking at his hands again.

“No. You’ll scare her,”

“I’ll scare her? How the fuck would I, a nobody, scare the Queen of Hawkins High?” you mocked loudly, drawing attention from the people passing by the parking lot, probably on their way to watch that stupid pep rally.

“Look, she was already scared when we talked, and it wasn’t easy to get her to trust me. She won’t trust you if you’re there, and I don’t wanna scare her even more,” he finally gave up on whatever he was looking for and turned to face you, and you loved how he cared about people, but you also knew him too well.

“That’s not all. Tell me the whole truth, Eddie,” you demanded and he sighed.

“You look like shit,” he stated, not looking into your eyes, but staring at a far spot above your head instead. “And I don’t know where you were yesterday, and why you were late to school again, and I don’t know what you used, and I don’t know how you got it because it wasn’t from me. But you look like shit, like a truck ran over you, and I don’t want her to see you like this.”

It was like a punch in the gut. Your eyes instantly wet, your breath instantly cut, your heart instantly broken.

What have you done?

“I was with Igor. You said you couldn’t yesterday, but we-”

“Yeah, had to help Wayne with some stuff.”

“Don’t want us to have fun without you?” you knew the venom in your words was unnecessary, but you felt like you had to defend yourself from something.

“That’s not what-” he sighed again, “look, I’m sorry, I gotta go. Hellfire’s about to start and I’ll take Chrissy home later to get whatever she wants and you can come over after that. And we’ll talk.”

“What’s there to talk about, Eddie, you’re not my dad!”

He gulped, people passing by still paying attention to your fight, Gareth waiting for him by the entrance to the school, and you were feeling like shit - in addition to apparently looking like shit - but your pride spoke louder than your reason.

“I’m just worried, honey. We’ll talk about it later, ‘kay?” his voice was sweet again, and he pressed a kiss just as sweet to your forehead before closing the van’s door and leaving you there. Alone by the parking lot, because you didn’t play D&D and you weren’t close enough to Lucas to go watch his basketball game, and because you felt like you had no one else but him.

And you felt like shit because you couldn’t scare pretty little Chrissy Cunningham, who was going home with your- with Eddie, and you knew you could trust him because he was a good - the best, really - person, and yet that ugly little green thing in your gut was screaming.

And you felt like shit because mixing shrooms and molly wasn’t a good idea, and you felt like shit because you knew Eddie was fighting for his life to finally get his diploma that year - because he felt like shit, guilty for making you repeat your senior year with him even though it wasn’t his fault at all. And you were probably throwing it all away and god knows why. Not like you didn’t have a good life without the drinks or the drugs or the party, it was a good life. And you had to get your shit together to make it a perfect life: you, Eddie, the boys and a huge ugly-ass mutt in Indy.

You cleaned your face, wet from tears and melting mascara, on the glove of your jacket, took a deep breath before leaving the parking lot, telling that ugly little green thing in your gut to shut the fuck up. It was okay. You’d see Eddie later and you’d figure your shit out. Just a few more hours.

~

I remember waiting on the sunrise And I’ll be right here waiting till you come back around Come back around, come back around

“You’ll wake up in no time, I’m sure of it,” his hand was cold in yours, the incessant beeping from the machines loud in your ears, the weight of guilt pinning you down.

It was a whole week before you saw Eddie again after the fight about Chrissy, his eyes closed and his skin pale, lying in a stiff and thin mattress as Wayne cried and prayed in the hallway, a gaggle of kids worried to their souls, going from Eddie’s to that Mayfield girl’s room - Eddie’s trailer neighbor, who was apparently also in a coma. And you had no idea what happened to them, if what happened to them was connected, if it was related to the huge fucking slashes in Hawkins’ soil and streets, but it didn’t really matter.

Because none of you could do a thing.

Because the doctor said Eddie lost too much blood, and his wounds were too deep and got infected, and they were doing their best but Eddie was too weak to wake up.

Yet. You’d always add it to the end of the sentence. Eddie was too weak to wake up yet, but he would. Soon.

And you didn’t see him for a full week, and Jason Carver and the news guy were saying he killed his cheerleader girlfriend, and a boy from the school’s paper, and a basketball player. And you knew it in your bones it was bullshit, because your Eddie was sweet and caring and lovable and wouldn’t harm a mosquito. But he was being hunted by an angry mob, and the little sheep he recruited for Hellfire were nowhere to be seen, and Gareth had a purple eye, and you were getting nightmares every night since Eddie went missing, and you just wanted to leave this creepy fucking town behind once and for all.

But after a week the freshmen reappeared, with a few older friends - the prior king of Hawkins High, the preppy ex-girlfriend who cheated on him, a band weirdo. And Eddie. Unconscious, on the brink of life, and the hospital people were treating him apprehensively until some sus government people showed up with the (apparently not) dead ex-Sheriff, and that family whose little boy had gone missing three years prior. And all of them talked to Wayne, and none of them talked to you, and then Eddie got the best treatment ever.

And he was still in a coma, but he’d wake up soon, you knew it.

Because you had a plan, and you didn’t use shit after your last talk in the parking lot, feeling brave and strong from resisting your urges, but it was almost easy to resist them when the other possible outcome was losing Eddie. Because you had a plan, and it was him and you, always together, making your dreams come true in the big city, and you couldn’t do it without him, he had to be there, beside you, always beside you, and you couldn’t lose him.

And yet you were losing him anyway.

~

All I wanted was you, let’s do whatever it takes Me and you, we can’t lose, I’ll take you away from here From the city that never loved you, from the town I always hated Me and you, we can’t lose

A light breeze passed by you, raising the hairs in your arms. The smell of dampened earth around you and the sound of the drizzle on the clothed surface of the umbrella above you was somehow soothing, even if not soothing enough.

You couldn’t see anyone around you, but, anyway, your eyes were focused.

Staring at it, as memories flooded your mind.

And it was staring right back at you, stone cold in all ways as it read:

“Edward Wayne Munson 1965 - 1986 Beloved nephew and loyal friend Brave until the very end”

“I’m so sorry, Eds. I don’t think I’ll be coming here much often now. I’m leaving for Indy. Gonna go live our dreams, okay? For you and me,” you touched Eddie’s grave, wetting the tip of your fingers, rain falling harder now. “I love you. Sorry I never said it to your face, I really should’ve said it to your face. Gonna miss you forever, gonna take you with me. Won’t ever forget you, that I promise, okay?”

You let silence reign for a minute. Waiting for an answer, maybe - that you knew was never coming. You had no tears left in you anymore, been crying ever since Wayne called you to say Eddie was in a coma weeks before this, but you could feel as the half of your heart that was entirely Eddie’s broke into pieces, could practically see it falling with the rain, soaking the soil beneath you. Growing roots in Hawkins. Where a part of you would always be. Where you hoped to never return.

You left the cemetery, left Eddie there, and didn’t look behind you once.

I’m with you Win or lose All that I wanted was you

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 3: I'll Show You Every Version Of Myself Tonight

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Summary: Michael recalls what happened during the day, and he tells you the truth (kind of).

Warnings: Angst, mention of death, non-sexual intimacy, Michael just hates himself, description of a seizure, slight hint at a panic attack (?), Everyone telling Mikey what to do (and they're being assholes about it)

Word Count: 7.7k

A/n: As promised, this is the day from Michael's POV, and explaining why he was so desperate that night (and wanted to get away for a few days). I struggled a lot with so many characters and writing their accents, so I apologize for any mistakes! Also, we have some plot in here and some of the other Kinsella family members, but nothing too major. Also, I do not accept any Birdy slander!

His hand strokes leisurely over your bare thigh. You’re lying with your head toward the headboard while he’s lying the other way around; He’s propped himself up on a pillow at your feet and draws absentminded shapes on your skin. 

Silence has settled over you. Your eyes are closed, your breathing steady, but you’re not asleep. He can tell by how you react to his touch. 

Your skin feels like silk under his fingers. You offer a little bit of calm, the end he had been begging for after this awful day, and being with you now, still close but not holding each other, he revels in the intimacy of it all. You share time without talking, and maybe that’s a bad idea with how many secrets are between you, but that is not what bothers him. 

“What are you thinking about?” your gentle whisper breaks through the silence, but it doesn’t burst the bubble you have formed around yourselves. 

Michael sits up, He’s wearing boxers and nothing else, and the closer he gets, the more the temptation rises to run your hand through his hair – all of his hair. You reach out to touch his torso. His chest hair feels soft under your fingers. 

He sighs wearily. One of his arms hooks around your bent knee and he places his head upon it. You look at him from your comfortable place on the pillows. There is something about your eyes that puts him into a state of awe. Your hand is still stroking his chest, but it’s not sexual, it’s caring, it’s a silent testament. 

“Today was…” he’s not sure how to describe it. Every single one of his days feels weird somehow. 

You pulled him somewhat back into the present, but deep inside, he still lives in the past. In his mind, he finds himself back in prison sometimes, and that’s terrifying. He has adapted behaviorisms that he would have never thought possible like keeping the untouched food out instead of throwing it away, not shaving, only showering at certain times and most of all, he still struggles to sleep in a bed. He tried. After meeting you, it became easier, but he feels himself slipping back into the same patterns from before. 

“What?” you ask. 

He shrugs. 

“Talk to me, please.”

With you, nothing can hurt him, he thinks. 

“I went to see Anna this mornin’,” Michael says, and if you hadn’t focused on him, you wouldn’t have been able to hear his voice. That’s how quietly he admits it to you. 

You frown. He can tell the thoughts are connecting in your mind. 

You know a little about family law in the UK, but you have never thought about what it would look like in Ireland. 

You know from experience that if you’re single, unemployed, fresh out of university, and merely twenty-one years old, a court probably won’t grant you custody of a one-year-old. Even if you’re related. Even if you tell the court that the biological parents – or one of them, at least, even though ignoring abuse can also be counted as such – are abusive and controlling toward their other children. Without proof, they won’t believe you, and if they don’t believe you, you won’t get custody. 

And if you were in prison for eight years after being convicted for the wrongful death of your own wife… well, chances are that getting custody or even visitation rights as the biological parent is going to be a hard task unless the child isn’t safe where it is now – but Anna is safe, from what you heard from Michael. And the court isn’t sure if he bettered himself enough to be a father to her. After all, he connects to very serious trauma that a child her age shouldn’t even have to carry, and even though the courts are sometimes unjust when it comes to custody battles, they are very vigilant in this case.

You get it, but you also see a side of Michael the authorities don’t seem to get. He’s a good man. He deserves the chance to at least reconnect with his little girl after being deprived of her for so long. 

You know how much it hurts not being close to someone you love, although in your case, it was your own choice to leave. Still, the pain is grand and anyone who has to carry it might tend to make stupid decisions along the way. Like seeing the very same daughter he is not supposed to even be near. 

“Are you allowed to?” you ask because maybe he is and you read it all wrong. 

But then he shakes his head and he says, “No.” 

“Michael!” 

“I’m sorry, I just can’t– I needed t’see her. I didn’t talk ta her, I just sat there t’see if she’s okay. I had ta–“ he breaks off. “I do it to convince myself she’s real and that‘m not dreamin’. I just want her back. Is that so wrong?”

“It’s not wrong, but you could risk everything just by watching her from a distance. If someone finds out–“

Your eyes soften amid the initial frustration when he moves his head to press his forehead against your knee. You can no longer see his eyes, but the tears pearling off of your skin tell you he’s crying. 

You touch his head. “Michael, darling,” you say, “please, talk to me so I can understand.”

He sniffles. Slowly, he lifts his head and crawls over to you. He reminds you of a cat like this. His head finds support on your chest as he curls into a ball, and you wrap your arms around him. 

“It’s okay…” You run your hand through his hair. “I’ve got you.”

It surprises him how comfortable he is in being vulnerable around you. You unveiled his guarded heart and started slowly breaking down his defenses. He let you in enough for you to see parts of him he had long kept hidden, and you are on your best way to pull it all out of him. 

He shudders under your gentle touch. You are so soft. Not just your skin; your touch and your soul are soft. You cradle him like he is everything to you, but he can’t believe that he would be or should be everything to you. He’s not deserving. He tried today but failed again. 

The foundation that kept his face stern before and added a supposed strength to his demeanor burns under your touch, and soon he is standing in the ashes of pretense and he feels it all.

He denied himself to feel the pain all day and now you’re here and you are so fucking soft– He starts sobbing into your chest, allowing him to fall further and further and further without a ground to land on. But there you are, catching him as often, and you don’t let go until you’re sure he’s safe. 

Your arms have become his forever sanctuary. Feeling comfortable with you has been a hard task from the start and he still struggles, but he can’t help but let himself go in your embrace. You know exactly what he needs. You know who he is and you still stick around, and you know what he needs. It’s not just sex, it’s comfort, something he tried to hide by taking you against the wall, and it was good and he needed it, but he needs this so much more.

And he realizes that he needs to talk to you, too. He can’t just rely on you to touch and comfort him, something he has been lacking for eight years and perhaps even sometime before that while he was burning his life to the ground with a bad decision after bad decision and lost what was dear to him – he has to talk to you to earn that comfort because if he doesn’t, it feels like he’s using you and he once again starts hating all aspects of himself with a passion unmatched. 

You’re doing this because you feel like you have to, he figures; because he’s broken and he looks like it most of the time, and you like to fix when something is broken to earn yourself a little love back, but you deserve more than you think you do and he doesn’t want you to please him just for the sake of pleasing him. He wants you to feel comfortable around him, too, and he wants to give back what you are giving him, and not just through countless orgasms. You’re worth more than that. 

He contemplates, then makes a decision that is hard to swallow, but you deserve it. And so he tells you exactly what happened.

— Earlier that day —

Hearing the lack of trust in your voice when he admitted that he didn’t want to go home moved something in him. Of course, you’ve only just started to get to know each other, but there was something else in your voice that made his heart sink. 

Darkness attracts light. The sun gives way to the moon at night, but the sun always finds a way to shine the brightest. Too much darkness can kill the light, and without light, darkness would take over and then there would be no happiness. 

You’re kind, you put love into every little thing you do and you care about people. That’s the kind of person that people who are much darker than you feel like they can use, and knowing you, you probably let them. But even you reach your limits. 

He could see in your eyes though that you meant it when you said you would help him get a proper job and fight for Anna, and considering you barely know him, that’s a big display of trust – you trust in his ability to be better, at least, and that is something he holds very dear to his damaged heart. 

It’s been a while since someone was so endlessly willing to forgive him and to actually put in the effort to try and be with him; he knows how exhausting it can be, that sometimes being with him can become draining, and that it runs the people around him dry. At least it used to be this way. He hurt you, but you seem to have faith in him. You believe in him, you don’t think he will run you dry and you’re not exhausted. You may be a little weary, but he would never blame you for that. Even more now, Michael wants to stay true to his promise. 

He feels alive with you. Safe. Loved. Cared for. And whenever he is close to you, he feels the desperate need to protect you, not just from him and this stupid life he has been born into but from any other possibility of harm that might come your way. He wants to make sure you’re okay, and that you have someone you can rely on, too. But there is something you’re hiding, he could tell. He’s not an idiot, he can tell when someone isn’t being entirely open with him, it comes with the Kinsella name; he has to know people, be able to read them, and judge quickly but with precision. 

He tried not to let the nagging feeling of you hiding something more serious from him get to him because it is your life and he still feels like he needs to prove himself to you more than anything, though the inkling he has won’t leave him. 

The way you froze when he finished the sentence for you, “We haven’t reached tha’ level of trust yet?” This small moment of hesitation told him that there must be more to it. But he can’t think about that, not now. 

Anna is wearing her usual school uniform as she strolls past the restaurant with two of her friends. He suspects they are her friends because she’s laughing. A sad smile finds its way to his lips. She looks happy. 

He remembers the day she was born. Every parent is somewhat afraid to screw up, especially with their first child. Some are more nervous, others less. Michael was the kind of first-time Dad that found himself thinking too much about what could happen. He was scared of not being enough, of subjecting his daughter to the dangers of his family, and he questioned if he even had what it takes to be a good father. He read books, asked Jimmy and Amanda, and he annoyed Birdy almost every day until the day Anna was born. 

He remembers repeating one sentence in his head, “I can’t do this.” 

But then he heard her first cry, and it took him only a second to realize that he was a Dad now. He remembers the moment he first saw her face, and he forgot everything around him. 

The most pivotal moment was though when he got to hold her in his arms for the first time, so small and fragile, she fit snugly into the crook of his arm. Was he afraid of breaking her? Yes. More than anything. But all she had to do was open her eyes and look at him, and his previous fear of ‘I can’t do this’ evaporated. Left behind was only endless love and a sense of needing to protect the new life in his arms. He swore he would do anything to assure she would have a good life, no matter what. 

And then, almost as if the first-time-parent jitters were an omen, he failed. He failed to be a husband and a father. Jimmy has always managed to coordinate his children, his wife, and the Kinsella life just perfectly, and Michael believed he could do it just like him, just like his brother – but he failed. He always wanted to be just like his brother. 

At first, things went great and he gave everything he had to give, but then real life settled in, and he fucked up all the good things in his life. He fucked up his marriage and he fucked up as the Dad he promised his daughter he would be. In the end, he lost both of them. He lost Allison permanently because he was too caught up with himself and his family, and he lost his daughter, too, because he just wouldn’t listen to his gut, and his fuck-ups turned into a complex construction of dominos that were set out to tear his life and his soul lower than the ground. 

If he could turn back time, he would. But he can’t. He can only try to turn what little of the steering wheel he has left around to get back what he has left of what he lost, and that is Anna. His love for her has not changed since the first day he held her in his arms, only his attitude toward himself and his life changed, and he feels even more miserable now than he ever did before. 

Before he can register it, Anna has disappeared behind the trees. Once again, she didn’t see him. Part of him hopes that one day, if he keeps this going, she will catch sight of him and that maybe she will be happy to see him – does she even know what he looks like? Does she remember? Does she remember the times he told her he loved her? 

He’s not sure how a child’s brain works, or what the trauma did to her, but he would like to know. He would love to understand what makes his little girl tick, even though she is less of a little girl now and starting to grow into a young woman. He missed so much, and that makes him so fucking angry. 

He missed her, but he’s not sure if she missed him. Allison’s mother has never been a fan of him, but after she found out he was responsible for her daughter’s death, her dislike turned into pure hatred. She would have killed him if she had gotten the chance, he’s sure, and she would if she ever saw him again, he is even more sure of that. But he wouldn’t blame her; he deserves it. 

All of this pain, he deserves it. He convinced himself a long time ago that he is suffering for a reason, and that led to a strict belief that every bad thing coming his way will be because pain is the only thing he deserves, and happiness was not made for a man like him. 

Michael empties his double espresso that tastes cheaper than the brew you can get at a grocery store. You make much better coffee, even if it's just a boring double espresso. 

But you are a good thing, and good things wither in his presence. He tries to shut the voices out, but after seeing Anna pass by happier than he has ever seen her before, they just grow louder.

He makes his way to Amanda and Jimmy’s house then. His hands are buried in the pockets of his jacket that still smells like you the day he lent it to you. His brown eyes are sunken as he crosses the corner to the street his family lives on – most of them, anyway. 

He rings the doorbell and the gate opens to let him in. When he steps toward the front door, Jamie greets him. 

“Hey,” Michael smiles softly. 

“Hey,” Jamie acknowledges him. “Mam’s in the kitchen, Da’s downstairs with Eric, Uncle Frank an’ Birdy.”

The boy doesn’t even question his appearance, so he probably doesn’t know about the fight that drove Michael and Jimmy apart only a few days ago, and neither does he seem to know about the call he made to Amanda before deciding to drive his life against the wall – if it weren’t for your desperate need to fix people, he would still be stuck there. 

He nods. “Thanks, Jamie.”

It is weird to see him so grown up after all these years. He’s almost his height now. The feeling of looking at Amanda or Jamie or the life his brother has built for himself is something he can’t describe, but it runs deep and it finds its way into his bloodstream to poison him. It makes his limbs heavy with the weight of lies and the unknown on his shoulders, and his heart turns into the cloudy Dublin sky. 

Michael steps inside. 

“Which one are ya here to see?” Jamie asks. 

“Your Dad,” he says. 

“Okay, cool.” He leaves just like that, with no questions, not even a glimpse of suspicion. 

Ignoring Amanda in the kitchen, he makes his way through the house and into the basement. The stairs creak slightly under his weight. The closer he gets, the more can he make out Frank’s voice. The wood of a cue stick hitting the object balls on the pool table fills his ears. Some of them seem to fall into the pockets, and he hears Jimmy clap proudly to himself. Frank’s tone of voice is concerned though, and Michael stops to listen. 

He’s come at just the right time because the next thing he hears is his name. “And what about Michael?” Frank asks. 

The sound of one of the balls flying off the table echoes through the room. Jimmy sets his stick down and sighs. “What about him?” he retorts.

“I’m askin’ you.”

“I’m not the boss of him, he made tha’ very clear.”

Their argument wasn’t even about that. Whatever Jimmy had been on that day, he chose his words to hurt him. Talking about Allison and Anna the way he did, and then talking about you as if there would be no good in being together with you cut Michael deeper than he showed at that moment, and he almost lost you because of that. Maybe he didn’t mean it, but he deserved that broken nose nonetheless. 

“Jimmy.”

“Wha’?”

“Whatever fight ya two had–” Frank begins. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Jimmy cuts him off. “I haven’t heard from Mikey in days. I dunno where he is. He’s not answerin’ my calls either.”

It’s Birdy’s voice next that tries to diffuse the obvious tension. “Maybe he just needed t’get away,” she says. “Away from all this, I mean. He just got out of prison. Cut the poor boy some slack.”

From the start, Birdy has always been the woman with maternal instincts, and Michael often found comfort in her kindness. She took care of him with a love he lacked during his childhood, and when he got out, she made sure the house didn’t look like an empty, haunted space anymore but that he could actually live in it again. She cares, and it shows in the way she speaks about him. He’s grateful, but he knows it won’t warm Frank’s heart the same way. He doubts the man is possible of positive emotions; he’s always been a rock, and he doesn’t care. Even the topic of family is just a job for him. 

As expected, Birdy gets ignored. 

“Is he still workin’ fer Amanda,” Frank asks, “washin’ cars like I told her?” 

“He was,” says Jimmy. “Until a few days ago, he took it very seriously. And then he left.”

“Good. Maybe he’s finally thinkin’ ‘bout what’s best for him, and that’s not washin’ cars. He belongs here, with us.”

Michael can only imagine Birdy’s disapproving glance. “He wants to get Anna back,” she argues. 

“He can do tha’ while he’s workin’ with Jimmy.”

“No, he can’t.”

“Birdy’s right,” Jimmy says. “Amanda tried tellin’ him she’d put him on the books but he didn’t have ta work, but he wants to. He’s takin’ this very seriously and I can’t say I blame him.”

“This is bullshit!” Frank stops to take a sip from his beer. “Ya’ve grown soft. Let’s jus’ hope Michael will come to his senses. We have bigger fish ta fry.”

He hears Jimmy scoff. “Wha’, like Eamon?” he asks. 

“No, Birdy’s new washing machine–”

By now, her eyes must be bulging out of her head with how hard she’s glaring. 

“Of fuckin’ course, I mean Eamon!” The glass of Frank’s beer bottle hits the counter of the small bar before he says, “And fuckin’ Moor, that bastard.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, right after Michael got out, remember?”

“We all remember tha’,” Birdy cuts in. “And I was seemingly the only one who cared enough about his well-being to check on him.”

“Yeah, Birdy, we know yer a saint,” Jimmy sounds almost bitter. 

“Don’t get smart on me now, Jimmy,” she says. “He’s your brother.”

“I know.”

“Eamon,” Frank says, acting as if the topics of conversation aren’t all over the place, “has us by the balls. We have ta do somethin’. Remember that dealer down on Parnell Street, hm?”

Silence follows. 

“Yeah,” he says, “he’s dead. He got shot this mornin’ around eight. While he was buying a fuckin’ drink at the gas station.”

Parnell Street. Michael knows a lot of streets by heart, that comes with the territory, but that name strikes a chord. The gas station on Parnell Street is about a fifteen-minute walk from Merrion. He knew before that Frank has people there, but Merrion isn’t just a street anymore. 

House number 13, that’s where you live. You drove past it before you parked a good length away from the café and he walked you there. That was at seven-thirty. 

He connects the dots and the second he does, his heart stops. 

Are you in danger?

Michael is convinced now more than ever that he needs to get out. He can’t protect you if he does the very same thing that he is trying to protect you from. He needs that job and he needs to try to distance himself. What if you get caught in the crossfire? Or Anna? He can’t relive the same hell again. It’s bad enough he dreams of that cruel night eight years ago every time he closes his eyes; he doesn’t need to add you to that list, too. He can’t bear to lose one more person he loves. 

“What do ya want me to do?” Jimmy asks, exasperated. “Want me t’start a seance and bring him back?”

“I need Michael,” Frank states. “We need manpower. He’s good at what he does. Not only does he throw a mean punch but he actually takes this shit serious when he needs ta. And he’s a damn good shot. He needs t’come back, otherwise–”

“Dead meat?” Birdy finishes.

“Yeah, dead fuckin’ meat.”

He steps out behind the shelf that has kept him hidden from their prying eyes. He doesn’t let him finish his sentence. 

Birdy is the first to catch a glimpse of him, her grim expression lighting up almost instantly. “Michael,” she says softly. 

He nods curtly, trying to smile, but he fails miserably. 

All eyes are on him now. He feels like an animal in the zoo, judged for existing, judged for being himself, and the only person excited by his sight is Birdy. She’s the one visitor at the zoo that seemingly enjoys every caged animal she sees. The sight of Michael’s dark features is not pretty, he knows that, but the looks he receives leave a bitter taste in his mouth. They pity him. He hates that just as much as silent judgment. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“How have ya been, pet?” Birdy asks. “Or more like where? We were worried ‘bout ya.”

She steps up to him and cradles his face. She traces the butterfly bandage on his forehead, chuckling a little, then moving on to the cut on his nose. She clicks her tongue. “How’s the other guy?”

It’s meant as a joke, but Michael takes it seriously. He looks at Jimmy, then back at her. “I’m grand,” he says. “And the other one’s good, too. ‘t was just a brawl.”

“Hm,” she disagrees, but she leaves it at a gentle hum. 

Frank’s smile is fake when he looks at him. “We were just talkin’ about you,” he says. 

He wants to tell him he heard, but he keeps his mouth shut. If he pretends he isn’t angry, maybe he can get out of this without any trouble. 

“Oh, yeah?” Michael asks. 

“Yeah. How’s the job?”

“Grand.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You asshole, he thinks. 

“You enjoy washin’ cars?” Frank is really pushing it this time. 

He feels so small under everyone’s eyes. Jimmy looks almost regretful and Eric is someplace else, his eyes focused on the snakes in the terrarium, but everyone else makes him feel so damn small. He feels his shoulder slouch, but then he thinks about Merrion Street, Parnell, the gas station, and then you. 

You. 

Anna. 

Himself. 

“It’s not bad,” Michael lies, “but I’ve decided t’work someplace else.”

Everyone looks shocked now, even though Birdy’s eyes scream more surprise than the sense of betrayal he sees in Frank’s eyes, and even Jimmy looks like he didn’t see this coming. Considering Michael was once willing to do everything they told him to, he doesn’t blame them. It’s a big chance for all of them, but especially for him. 

Change is good, change is what he needs. He turns it into a mantra or else he won’t believe it, cave, and then return to the same man he was before. The thoughts of, “They’re your family. Would it really be that bad?” 

But you would never approve. Or would you?

No, he can’t think like that. He wants to be just Michael for a while if not forever. 

“I came to tell ya that. I quit,” he repeats. “The job with Amanda, I mean. I quit that.”

“Come again?” Frank asks. 

“Yeah.”

Jimmy curses under his breath, “The hell, Michael?!”

Michael caught them off guard. Good. The almost defeated expression Frank carries along with his anger and exasperation almost makes him gloat. Maybe he is already gloating a little inside because he found something more important than blood, in more ways than one, and he is fighting for it now. 

He hasn’t fought for something in so long. 

“Where?” Jimmy collects himself first. “Where are ya gonna work?” he asks. 

“I’ve got somethin’,” says Michael, “that’s all ya need to know. That’s why I came here. I didn’t want t’ leave ya in the dark.”

“You came here to tell us ya quit the job with Amanda?”

“Yeah.”

“Pet,” Birdy prompts. 

Michael shakes his head. “I need to get Anna back. For tha’, I need a more stable job. Appease the courts an’ all that. I can’t let anything, not even the smallest mishap get in the way of that. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Would you be proud of him if you heard him stand his ground? He likes to think you would be. It makes the heavy heart he gets from the look on his brother’s face a little easier to just accept. He needs to burn bridges, not appease others. And this is one of the bridges that need to be incinerated. 

“Are you sure about this?” Birdy asks. 

“Yeah, I am,” he says. 

“Fuck,” Frank curses to himself. “Can we talk about this, Michael? Just for a minute?” It sounds like a question but it’s actually a perfectly concealed demand. 

Michael sees through his charade. He shakes his head again. “I made my decision, Frank.”

“When we put ya to washin’ cars, this is not what we meant to happen–”

“Oh, I am well aware of tha’,” he sounds bitter now, and he can taste the copper of blood from where he bit his cheek in an attempt not to yell or throw another punch. “Things change,” he says. “People change.”

Birdy tries to pour some water on the fire that is starting to consume everyone in the room, but it has been fueled by oil and gasoline and water only makes it worse. 

“Anna belongs with Michael,” she says. “I’ve said it before, but she’s a Kinsella. Mikey deserves a chance to prove himself to get her back, don’t ya think?”

Jimmy nods at the same time that Frank starts to shake his head. “Eric!” he calls out and his son flinches. He’s still standing close to the snakes. “Don’t ya have anythin’ constructive to say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Michael says. 

Eric closes his mouth again. He doesn’t look like he wants to be there, anyway. His skin is sickly pale and he appears almost… guilty. 

“That’s all I came here for. I quit. I’m sorry.”

He’s not sorry. He feels sorry, but not for this.

“Maybe if we take a calm minute to think about this–” Birdy tries again. 

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Pet…”

“I’m sorry, Birdy,” and with her, he means what he says. “I can’t,” he says. 

On his way out, the weight that is lifted from his shoulders only lasts a few seconds before his brother’s voice puts twice as many bricks back onto his shoulders, dragging him further down. 

“Michael, wait!” Jimmy calls out. 

Michael clenches his jaw and halts. “What?” He turns around. 

“I’m sorry for wha’ I said the other day, about Allison and Anna and that girl Amanda saw you kissin’,” he says. “I was on edge and it wasn’t fair, especially not blamin’ ya fer Allison’s death. I know yer strugglin’ and I’m sorry, but ya can’t just leave because of tha’. It was just a fight.”

“I’m not leavin’,” he clarifies, “I just quit my job with Amanda. There’s a difference. I’m still here. Fer family.”

“Is there a difference? Ya’ve been gone for days. I was worried. We all were.”

“Were ya, really?”

They stare each other down. The rope of tension is so visible, it could be cut with a knife. 

Jimmy takes a step closer, his voice softer now. "Look, I didn't mean half of the things I said. I was angry, and I lashed out. I want you back in our lives. I want ya back where you belong, workin' with me. We're family, Michael."

“This isn’t about you, it never was,” Michael snaps. “This is about me and Anna and… and–” He knows he shouldn’t have said your name, but it slips before he can think, and his voice echoes through the house. 

“So yer still on about her?” his brother asks. 

He screwed up. You were just a stranger seconds before, and as a stranger, you were safe. Now Jimmy knows your name and probably everyone else, too, and being a Kinsella is already dangerous enough, he doesn’t need you involved with every single member of his family, but now that Jimmy knows you are one of the reasons he wants out… his brother might not become the problem, but Frank might, and Michael could shoot himself for being such a fool. 

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “Point is, I’m gettin’ another job and ya can’t stop me. I want t’be better.”

“We’re family,” Jimmy repeats. 

Michael scoffs. "Family, huh? Is that what ya call it when you drag my personal life into our fights? When you use my dead wife, daughter, and her against me?"

“Ya heard what Frank said about Eamon–”

“I’ll cross that bridge if it ever comes to it, but I’m not playin’ that game. I can’t get involved, and I won’t. Why can’t you just accept tha’?”

“Because Anna, I get, but this woman, Michael,” Jimmy says. 

His eyes darken. “Careful,” he growls.

“I stand by wha’ I said. This relationship is doomed. People have died already. What if someone starts a war? They’re not gonna give a fuck about whether or not yer goin’ straight now. You know how it is; they always find a way t’ destroy us and what we love. You’ve experienced it yerself.”

His words cut deeper than a knife. Michael's heart aches as he realizes the truth in his words — love and happiness within the Kinsella family come at a devastating cost. He stabbed a dagger straight through his heart and pulled it back out. As if the demons in his head weren’t saying the same thing, Jimmy had to go ahead and drill the hurt even deeper, the fear and the uncertainty. 

He thinks about Allison, her blood heavy on his hands. He went down too many wrong roads and ended at a point of no return. Now that he has found a way out, that way seems to be the same one-way street heading in another direction, but the end is still a huge wall he will run into, and then he will lose everything dear to him. 

But these thoughts are poison. They’re toxic. He can’t let them get to him, even though he has never taken his brother’s words more seriously. He’s always valued Jimmy, even when he’s angry. What he loathes is the truth of his words. It would be kinder if he was lying; it would make the decision so much easier. It wouldn’t make him rethink what he said, what he chose and is going to choose – he wouldn’t question what he feels for you, which is the part that tears ripples through his soul and the home you’ve made there, shaking his world and inevitably, yours. 

He understands the risks. But he yearns; he yearns so desperately for a chance at redemption. The threat of violence used to be his life, but now it hurts even him to think about the chance of the monsters jumping out of the shadows and cutting him and his loved ones apart piece by piece. He saw the worst of humanity and he knows it can get worse. 

The pits are sheer endless. There is no going back no matter where you are, no matter how hard you try to pull out - It's a door that reads "pull" but you push, and even when you pull, the door won't open. It isn't locked, you're simply trapped, and it's the same with his emotions. 

Michael knows he has a hell lot to lose, and he needs to acknowledge that instead of listening to the voice in his head that continues screaming, “Run!” 

But it isn’t him who should run. 

“I deserve a second chance,” he says. 

“Of course, ya do,” Jimmy says, “but–”

“No, that’s all. I deserve a second chance. Period. So does Anna, and so does she.”

“Michael–”

The sound of heels clicking against the floor follows the sound of a closing door. Amand rounds the corner, her brown curls swaying with each of her movements, and she stares at the men before her in bewilderment. 

Michael feels his throat tighten when he sees her. 

“What is goin’ on here?” she asks. “I can hear ya shoutin’ through the whole house.”

“Michael quits,” Jimmy tells her. 

It’s as if he had been waiting for a moment to snitch. Two against one, and if he adds everyone in the basement, he’s standing alone against five Kinsellas. Just because he made a decision. He chose something for himself. It’s almost as if they can’t live with that. 

“Quit wha’?” Amanda asks.

“His job.”

“What?” She crosses her arms and looks at him. “Michael–”

“Don’t,” he cuts her off. His expression hardens. "Don't act like you care, both of ya. Don't. You may mean it, but no matter what I do, yer just gonna continue sabotagin' every attempt I make at bein’ happy. I can't keep lettin' ya dictate my relationships. I won't let you ruin what I have right now. Don’t tear her away from me.”

Why he sounds like he’s begging, he’s not sure. But standing alone against the force of his family feels humiliating enough to shatter his confidence. 

“Is it about the girl?” Amanda asks. Her body is turned to Jimmy, asking for his approval, and he nods. 

Michael rolls his shoulders. He doesn’t want to get angry, he doesn’t want to hit him again, he just wants to go home – he wants to go to a home that isn’t a place but a person, and he needs it now. He’s not sure how he survived up until this point, but it’s getting harder to breathe as the current drags him down. 

“It’s about more than tha’,” Jimmy adds to his initial agreement. 

At least he got that right. 

“It’s about family and the choices you’re makin’, Michael.”

Michael's voice rises, finally, his pent-up frustration spilling over. "No, Jimmy!” his voice bounces off the high walls that turn into a microphone with the force with which he delivers his words. “I'm choosing myself, fer once,” he says. “I've spent my whole life doin’ everythin’ fer this family, but I failed the people I care about, I lost everythin’ and now I just want to fuckin’ fix things! I won't let ya tear me down just ‘cause you can't handle the choices I make."

"Michael, we all care about you," Amanda says. Her voice is gentle, but he often likes to compare her to a venomous snake. Her words can sound nice, but the meaning behind them can be deadly as soon as it reaches your bloodstream. "We want what's best for ya."

"What's best for me is to be with her, with Anna- I want to be just Michael. I wanna be free from this toxic cycle. I won't let you or- or anyone else dictate what makes me happy. I've had enough. This is my life, for fuck's sake, let me just have tha'!"

"But yer a Kinsella," says Jimmy, "You can't change that." His anger transitions to silent anger. "No matter how badly you wanna escape, you can't."

Michael turns on his heels. "Maybe not, but I can sure as hell try," he says, ready to leave the house behind. 

He feels trapped, not just in there but on this street. He feels trapped everywhere, the walls caving in around him. He's breaking, as is the world, the universe, and reality; everything seems to be falling apart, and he is reaching for the only lifeline he has. As he walks away, he can feel their stares burning into his back, but he no longer cares.

He thought he could at least breathe once he was away from the house, but then his walls are caving in, too. He’s started tearing what little clothes he has into a bad – just enough for a few days – when he feels the room… shift.

The air grows thick with his mounting anxiety, his heart pounding in his chest like a trapped bird desperately flapping its wings against a cage. His vision blurs. A sharp pain shoots through his skull, but it’s only momentary. 

Somehow, he manages to make his way into the bathroom. Maybe cold water will help, he thinks, but then the room shifts again and again and again, and his now wet fingers slip from the tap. The water is still running into the sink, but he can’t move. As the room shifts, so does his brain. He can’t think, his eyes only able to scan silhouettes, and his knees give out. His body betrays him. 

The world around him warps and distorts. The sound of running water turns into a shrill melody as if someone is blowing a flute directly into his ear. The tiles beneath his feet become unsteady, their patterns dancing and morphing before his eyes. His fingers twitch as he tries to somehow lean against the toilet, but he has no power over what he’s doing. The spiral keeps going further down, dragging him with it. 

Time seems to both stretch and contract, the seconds drawn out agonizingly, yet passing in the blink of an eye as his body convulses. He doesn't exactly register what's happening. Sometimes, it feels like he's watching himself seize uncontrollably from the outside, other times it feels like a very vivid dream and then there are times, like now, when he's conscious but also feels detached and not conscious at all. 

Fragments of pictures flash before his eyes like a movie. He feels the fear deep in his bones, and it turns into personified matter dancing through his daydream - but it feels more like a nightmare that doesn't belong to him like Freddy Kruger messing with his head and threatening to cut him up. The body he's in can't possibly be his own. He fears losing control; he fears being consumed by the darkness that lurks within his bloodline, and it grips him tightly. He fights against it, struggling to retain a sense of self amidst the overwhelming chaos, but he's tired. 

He's not sure how long he's lying on the floor, but eventually, his muscles ease up and he slumps. The world returns to his senses, but he still feels disoriented and takes a moment to realize where he is.  As he lies there on the cold bathroom floor, the tears mingle with the sweat on his face. He wipes it off his brow, but he is still sweating. 

It isn’t the first time this has happened, but he hates it more and more every time. If only he could understand what’s happening, but asking for help isn’t his strong suit and he has other things to worry about. His ‘episodes’, as he dubbed them, are the last points on the list. 

He’s not at home here anymore, Michael reminds himself because he doesn’t feel like it. He feels trapped in his own house. The bullet holes are so close, he feels he can touch him through the walls. 

And then he decides, he really can’t stay here anymore. Not tonight, at least, and not tomorrow either. His head is all over the place. In every corner, there is an invisible trigger and he is haunted by the ghosts of his past. They follow him everywhere. 

The past follows him everywhere but into your arms, and so he fights against the ache in his muscles to rise back to his feet and packs his bag. 

By the time Birdy comes around to check on him, the light in the kitchen is dark, the blinds are drawn close and when she knocks, no one answers. Michael is gone again, and she wearily leaves it be just like that – who is she to keep the poor boy from happiness? If he doesn’t want to stay, he shouldn’t have to stay. 

But that’s just what she thinks. She knows as soon as Frank or Jimmy finds out he has disappeared again, kindness is the last thing that will follow Michael wherever he goes now. 

When he tells you about it that night, he leaves out the part about Eamon and whatever else is threatening the existence of the family business right now because you don’t need to know that. He tells you about the fight and Jimmy and his decision to quit his job with Amanda and move on to be with Anna, and you listen without a word. 

You listen and when he reaches the point of talking about packing his bag, he stops. You think that’s it, that’s what you believe, and he wants to keep it that way. He doesn’t tell you about the seizure or the taunting memories. 

Michael ends the story at a point he knows will suffice but still keep you safe, and you don’t seem to notice that he’s holding back because damn it, he’s crying, sobbing even, and all you want to do is comfort him.

He feels guilty for lying again, but it is for your own good. If you knew what was going on right under your nose, close to your own home and close to your heart with him here, you wouldn’t be able to deal.

But there are things Michael doesn’t know about you, and he can’t even begin to fathom how wrong he is about you not being able to deal with the violent lifestyle of his family. No matter how scared you might appear, it is not always because of the reasons he thinks it is. 

You’re a good liar, excellent even, but there is a gut feeling inside of him that won’t go away, and he holds onto the hope that one day, he will learn who you truly are, as much as you wish to know who he truly is. 

Only then can you both be unconditionally happy with each other – honesty is key, and it is still lacking in every one of your conversations.

Michael just hopes you will be able to survive whatever rocks life might throw your way because losing you is not an option he wants to concern himself with – in more than one sense. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @shouldbestudying41 @your-not-invisible-to-me @glowstick-lesbian @ms-murdockswift @acharliecoxedfan @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattmurdocksscars @roseallisonparker @1988-fiend @norestfortheshelbywicked

[official-saul-goodman]

hi saul - do you mind if i ask you about what sort of stuff/signs in writing tells you when the author is using abuse cheaply? you made a post about it a few days ago, and as a writer and reader i thought id ask so i could watch out for that sort of thing. conversely, do you know any books that you consider to portray abuse well? of course feel free not to answer, thank you for your time anyway

It's a lot, let me tell ya.

thank you for asking, also please excuse my atrocious grammar.

Take these with a grain of salt, but all these are just what i noticed reading cheap books while i was traveling. these books are cheap for a reason, theyre bad, and most likely not representative of good literature. I tend to enjoy mostly mystery books as well as classics, so i dont go about choosing books that are good at depicting home lives of abuse victims consciously, and dont really have any recommendations on books that depict abuse respectfully. i reckon other people will though if you search well enough youll find books written by people who were abused and chose to share thier stories through non fiction or fiction, or find books written respectfully that tackle the concepts of abuse. but what im going to talk about right now is how apparently a lot of authors cant find any good ways to handle abuse as a topic without being immensely disrespectful to multitudes of people- just solely based on my observations from the many many terrible books ive read over the years, mostly shitty thriller novels that exist to shock people crassly.

the most common cheap mentions of abuse that i have commonly seen and read tend to be as such: evil 'crazy' villain was abused as a child which leads to why he's evil, abusers are all people who have personality disorders cause mental illness is 'crazy' and leads to evil people, abused children are 'damaged' and such will do bad things if they become 'crazy' enough, etc. It's always related to some sort of nonsensical pathologising of completely neutral conditions people have, and the demonising of already vulnerable groups of people by showing them as abusers, even though these people are most likely victims of abuse. This is the main sign that the abuse mentioned in a story is most likely being used as a scare mongering tactic against mentally ill people, for nothing but shock value. I find this to be one of the most common, cheap uses of abuse as a topic in (mainly horror and thriller) books.

The second most cheap mention of abuse is this very strange twisting of abusers as people who have he capacity to change, as some sort of optimism porn or something. In my experience and the experience of many others, its insulting that books make it seem like abusers are secretly good people who are just misguided and will change on their own 'once they realise'. Or that they can make up for their behaviour through apologies and actions, because 'actions speak louder than words'. The idea that everything can be forgiven through the power of change or some magical bullshit, incredibly disrespectful to victims of abuse. Abusers are repeat offenders, and rarely are they ever people who just have one form by which they abuse people. Physical abuse comes verbal, and emotional. but most people only focus on the physical and verbal, and think that if someone shows abusers the 'right way' they'll simply learn their wrong ways and change. thats not how it works, you would never abuse someone if you were secretcly a good person. theres a fundamental flaw in giving the benefit of the doubt to people who have done immeasurable damage to their victims, theres nothing to achieve when you dont have more empathy and compassion for the victims and their pain.

A lot of abusers were abused themselves as kids, and so choose to continue the cycle of abuse, but this cannot be used to create a form of 'oh they were so hurt and they dont know any better' type of image. because they do know better, but they dont think theyre being abusive, cause they think they have the right to behave the way they do. You can address what led people to be the way they are without absolving them of their behaviour in fiction. in the end theyre all characters but the least you can do to people who were abused by people like these characters in a similar fashion is to not write abusers like they are not responsible for their actions, jsut because they went through the same thing in the past. theres no valid reason to be an abuser, and there never will be.

the worst of all is obviously with those 50 shades type romance thriller novels that romanticise misogyny and abuse, we all know about this, some new romance novel or the other with 'spicy' scenes becomes popular every few weeks on tiktok, ahem hem for example The Wives by Tarryn Fisher. terrible book, its so fucking terrible, its downright evil.

for writing tips on accurately and thoughtfully depicting abuse, you have to actually read or listen multiple people who have shared their experience with abuse. Be intelligent with how you use resources available, and dont fall into the trap of following easy but damaging tropes to shock readers.

[charbear177]

5 Signs Your Relationship Is Over

Not all relationships last. Many relationships run their natural course and end amicably, while others crash and burn. In some relationships, you walk away from it a better person than when it started, and with other relationships, you leave thinking “what the heck” just happened.

In my opinion, no one should ever be blindsided by the end of a romantic relationship because the signs are always there. Always. But if you are unsure that what you are seeing are signs that your relationship is in trouble and heading towards its demise, here are the signs to look for.

5 Signs Your Relationship Is Over

Avoidance

You don’t spend time with them or they don’t want to spend time with you. Time together is no longer enjoyable. Time together is an annoyance; a burden. So what do you do, you avoid them altogether. You spend time with others. You focus on your kids, your work, or your hobbies. Anything to distract from your dissatisfaction with your relationship.

Avoidance is passive-aggressive behavior and the most common sign that a relationship is on its last legs.

Annoyance

Every little thing you or they do annoys the other person. The tolerance level for imperfection is extremely low and the person cannot seem to do anything right in the eyes of the partner who wants out.

The annoyance sign tends to be extremely hurtful because you feel like you cannot do anything right and your partner will basically tell you so. They become dismissive and often verbally or emotionally abusive.

Do not tolerate abuse.

Infrequent or No Intimacy

Any intimacy feels forced and like a chore. They don’t want to hug, kiss, or show any form of affection, and when they do, it feels cold and insincere. They may have trouble even saying “I love you”.

Maybe you have very long dry spells of no bedroom action, or perhaps you have started to sleep separately. Someone conveniently sleeping on the couch or not coming to bed until long after their partner has gone to sleep is a big sign.

No Communication

Communication is terrible at best and non-existent at its worst. You two are not communicating your feelings, emotions, or desires. You are doing whatever you want to do, without discussion or consideration for your partner.

In the past, you would text if you were running late or double-check with your partner before making plans. However, in your new relationship reality, the courtesy discussions and agreements do not happen.

This is a sign that they are starting to see themselves as a “me”, not a “we”.

Personality Changes

Maybe they have not changed but you are certainly seeing a different of side them. You are seeing a side that is not interested in your happiness, your opinions, or your feelings. You wonder where the old them have gone, but they make no apologies or excuses for the change, and instead just tell you “this is who they are” and expect you to accept it or not.

This sign may consist of a lot of gaslighting but it is also laced with invitations to end the relationship so they don’t have to.

When you know, you know. And when it’s over, it is over. Relationships can get to a point of no return, and it is important to recognize when you are there. And once you recognize it, tell yourself it is okay to let go. You will need to let go for your own mental and emotional well-being. Remember your worth and know that sometimes being alone and happy can be the most fulfilling relationship you will ever have.

What are your thoughts? Have you experienced any of these signs or issues in a relationship? Please share your thoughts and experience!

“How can I be reasonable? To me our love was everything and you were my whole life. It is not very pleasant to realize that to you it was only an episode.” ― W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

[lokisprettygirl]

The Night Screams at The Slumber Island (Loki x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (Dark) (Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 6 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary : You tell loki about your past and just when you thought you had someone by your side again, life knocks you down and you're left all alone.

Warning: This chapter is pretty heavy, mention and discussion of rape, sexual abuse, gaslighting, cheating etc please read carefully. If something triggers you please don't read it.

Stephen had arrived two days before he was supposed to come so you got ready to see him. You had shared your concerns with him on the telephone and he said he'd talk to you at the meeting. 

You knew the ferry left for the mainland around 10 and you were there fifteen minutes prior to that but you were told that the ferry had left already which didn't make any sense, those things ran on time.

That ruined your whole day so you came home and called Stephen to apologize and he assured you that he'd be back next month. He talked to you about your fears and warned you to not miss your doses or take too much of it because both can cause unwanted side effects. He never wanted you to move someplace far and reclusive but considering your mental situation he just wanted you to be at peace for now, that's what you needed the most. 

You decided to do something to take your mind off the situation so you made chicken pasta and knocked on your neighbor's door.

As he opened it he didn't have a shirt on so you stopped looking him into the eyes because he was making you feel all bashful again.

"I apologize darling, give me a minute" he closed the door and opened it a few seconds later, weirdly enough you didn't hear the footsteps of him walking away from the door. When he came back he had a maroon shirt on.

"I made pasta so I thought I'd treat you for lunch today" you smiled and his face brightened up immediately. He had been so kind to you since you came here and you just wanted to be nice to him. 

"Thank you darling..that is really..well nobody has ever cooked for me" you chuckled as he said that, you placed the pasta dish down on the table he had in front of the kitchen.

"I don't believe it, you must have had girlfriends of yours cooking for you at some point" you mumbled and he smirked. 

"I did not actually and I'd never lie to you" 

Your face flushed as he said that but you ignored how warm his words made you feel. That's what they all say. I won't lie. I won't cheat. I'd never break your trust.

"Would you like a drink with that?" You shook your head as he asked but then you remembered that you were trying to be his friend so you had to put one step forward too.

"Something non alcoholic if you have it" you mumbled and he walked towards his refrigerator, he could feel your eyes on him. He put the can of soda down in front of you while he poured himself a glass of wine.

"For some reason I didn't think of you as the wine type of guy" he chuckled as he took a sip, the way he kept looking at you made you feel nervous, his gaze wasn't predatory, you have learned to differentiate that. 

"What type of Guy do you think I am?" he asked you so you looked at him.

"I don't want to judge" 

"Judge me darling, I insist" you chuckled at the tone of his voice.

"Ummm I think you're kind and helpful but you also look like a supermodel so that makes me want to not trust you" 

He smiled and hummed in response.

"So if I was any uglier would you trust me more?" 

"Nooo actually, that would also make me not trust you..you know what...I don't know what I'm saying" you sighed as you fidgeted.

"I think I do, you don't like being around men I get that" you hummed. That wasn't a lie.

"Well I don't like being around certain type of men" 

"Did you have a father growing up?" He questioned you so you thought about it.

"Yes but he died when I was like 5"

"What about a brother?" 

"Nooo" 

"A companion perhaps?" as soon as he said that you stood up and excused yourself then you ran out of his place. What were you thinking? Befriending a man like that? What if he is not how he pretends to be? You got inside your house and shut the door immediately, your eyes were teary as you thought about how they have hurt you. One broke your heart but the other one destroyed you completely, he took away everything you cherished in life, love, friendship, ability to trust someone enough to consider them a friend. 

"Darling?" You heard his voice from the other side of the door. You had done it again, you stormed out on him again and you were losing the count of how many times you had disrespected him in the past few days "My mother always used to say that it's rude to leave your meal unfinished like that" he mumbled softly, somehow you could tell that he was smiling, so you wiped your tears before you opened the door.

"I'm sorry" you mumbled but you didn't look at him. You felt embarrassed.

"May I?" He had his hands out and you figured that he wanted to hug you so you nodded. He grabbed your upper arms and pulled you closer, your breath hitched as you felt the close proximity, you looked up and felt his hands dragging, caressing your shoulder, then your collarbones and he finally cupped your cheeks to wipe the tears with his thumbs

"You are.. beautiful" he mumbled and you didn't know how to react, you felt his words deep in your core. It's been long since you allowed a man to touch you. Since you gave a man your consent to touch you.

"Thank you" you mumbled in response, you didn't know what to say. Maybe you could have told him that he was pretty as well.

"What happened there love? What did I say wrong?" You looked at him surprised as he said that, he never blamed you for your behavior, he always apologized even when he did nothing wrong.

"You didn't say anything wrong" 

"But I made you anxious, tell me so I'm careful okay?" 

"I just.. I just don't..it's about my past and people in my life" fresh tears soaked your eyes so he grabbed your hand and walked you towards the couch to make you sit down then he sat down on his knees in front of you. 

You were trying to talk to him, you were making an effort and that's what he needed from you, he didn't want you to go back into your shell again.

"Do you want to talk and share with me?" He asked you and you kept wondering if his knees were starting to hurt?

"You can sit on the couch loki" 

"I'm fine here do not worry" 

"I uhhh ..it's..too much..I don't want to freak you out" your lips trembled as you spoke and he just wanted to kiss you to calm you down but he had no right to do so.

"You could never freak me out love" he mumbled softly and you felt his fingers wiping your tears again.

"It's okay..talk to me darling..just let it all out on me..I have been told that I'm a good listener" you nodded as he said that. Maybe he'd understand why you acted the way you did if you tell him because you didn't want to offend him any further with your reactions, it's been a while since you have made a friend.

"I was..I met this guy when I was 20 and fell in love, it happened so quickly and for six years he was my whole world, our relationship wasn't the best but it was love or that's what I thought" he hummed as you said that.

"What happened to him?" 

"Two years ago I had just gotten back from a work trip earlier than I was supposed to and walked into our shared apartment only to catch him fucking one of my friends, i was heartbroken obviously, I envisioned my whole life with this guy and he just.. didn't care about me" you sniffled as your voice choked. He placed one of his hands on your thigh rubbing it soothingly while the other one caressed your head. His touch felt soothing but sharing your past wasn't easy for you.

"6 years and he didn't care..not even a bit..I stormed out of there and he called me so I put it on speaker because I just wanted to yell at him and hurt him because I was so hurt, I felt broken..big mistake because I got distracted and that caused the accident that had put me in a coma for almost a year" his eyes teared up as he felt you shivering, he knew how hard it was for you to open up to him. 

"A coma?" 

"Yeahhh..the accident was really bad, I had an old friend, I had known him since we were sixteen, he was my best friend. My mom always told me that there was something off about him but I could never see it, I trusted him blindly, he was there when I needed him and I just.. trusted him..when they took me in I was still conscious and he grabbed my hand and told me that he'd take care of me no matter what and I ..trusted him"

You started sobbing uncontrollably so he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you tightly to comfort you.

"Shhhhh you're safe now I promise, I am so sorry sweetheart, I am sorry " he was sorry that he wasn't there even though it was impossible at the time "It's okay we don't have to talk about it okay?" He said to you so you nodded. He made you sit down, made you a cup of tea and brought the food from his house so you could finish it. But you couldn't sit still, you wanted to share it with him, maybe he'd understand the trauma you have been through. And Maybe he'd believe you.

As he sat next to you you linked your fingers with his so he scooted a little closer.

"You want to talk?" He asked you so you nodded.

"What happened? What did he do?" 

"I was in a coma but I was conscious, it was like sleeping and I'd wake up once in a while..I could hear people around me and I could open my eyes sometimes and see them.. only my mom and the friend visited me during those six months..and one day I–" you started shivering as you recounted the first moment where you knew your life would never be the same.

"And one day I opened my eyes and there he was ..on top of me.. fucking me in that state" his eyes teared up because up until now you couldn't get a word out without breaking down into tears but all of a sudden you seemed so devoid of any emotion. He was a monster, he never deserved to even be around you.

"He'd say things like how he always wanted to fuck me but I never chose him ..he'd abuse me verbally, telling me that I ruined his life and what not..for months everytime..I opened my eyes ..I saw him right on top of me..he was always there..every night..and I could..do nothing..a doctor caught him once but kept his mouth shut, he got to rape me too" your voice finally broke so he pulled you closer and wrapped his arm around you, he knew what some despicable humans were capable of doing but the monstrosity you have been through still astonished him.

"I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't get them off me and I just..felt so helpless..he must have thought that I'd never wake up..but I did, and I remembered. I had a miscarriage during my stay because of him and they all went crazy, when I woke up I yelled and screamed but the hospital tried to shut me up. I got out, filed a case against him and the hospital couldn't lose its reputation so they proved in court that I was mentally ill. That accident had caused my mind to make things up, that I couldn't have been conscious of my surroundings in that state and nobody believed me. Nobody" 

Your cries wounded him and he just wished that he could turn back the time and stop it from happening but he couldn't have. 

"I believe you darling, I believe you. I am sorry you have been through something so awful but it's over now. They'd never hurt you again I promise" he mumbled softly, you were so into your head that you weren't even registering his words anymore, you just wanted to stay in his arms and never let go. He made you feel safe and you didn't understand why.

"My mom killed herself after that, she couldn't live with the knowledge that I was going through that and she didn't know, they took everything.. everything.." you cried and cried, didn't stop until you were close to passing out, you had kept everything inside you, hiding yourself away from people because they all knew but they didn't believe you.

"Not anymore..you're so strong my love, you have been through such torment and you still got here, you still carried on and you're so brave for that, I'd never let anyone hurt you again I promise darling..I promise" you sniffled as you heard him, you knew he was just saying all that to comfort you but it did feel good to have someone by your side. They told you so many lies that momentarily even you started to believe them but you knew what you felt and you knew what you had been through. 

He wanted to tell you that he was so proud of you for choosing to build a life again but you chose the wrong place to do that, he wanted to tell you everything but he couldn't. You won't believe him. He held you in his arms until you stopped crying, your head felt heavy so he laid you down on the couch. He brought a pillow and a comforter from your room and covered you up in it. As he was about to leave you grabbed his hand, 

"Thank you loki..I ..I am so glad I met you, thank you for being who you are and for being here with me"

You mumbled so he smiled before he wished you a good night of sleep and left. You wanted to ask him why would he even tolerate you, he didn't even know you but you figured you'd do it tomorrow.

But Next day when you didn't make it to the farmers market again Phil and the rest of the selection committee decided to confront you so you told them that your neighbor was helping you. You thought they'd be upset and probably would judge your relationship with him, you were ready to argue that he was just a friend and a very good neighbor to you but weren't ready for what they had to say about him.

Your neighbor, the man you have known by the name Loki didn't exist, the house in front of yours didn't exist. He wasn't real.

😳😳👀👀👀💀💀💀👀👀👀😳😳

Taglist @mcufan72   @stupidthoughtsinwriting   @fraoid3   @wheredafandomat   @michelleleewise   @daddylokisqueen   @123forgottherest   @usagishira   @elegantcheesecakecrown   @sashas-recs   @lukira1337   @vickie5446   @spageddyhoes   @witchypandamonium   @javagirl328   @slpnbty2001 @mochi661 @lovingchoices14   @annoyingsweetsstranger   @army24--7    @el-zef   @asgardianprincess1050   @loz-3 @whylokiissocute @holotacopeely   @thomase1   @daggers-and-mischief   @constablewafflebottom   @marvel-love24 @crimson25   @laliceee

[chill-pills-yandere-haven]

Hello, I apologize if this is not the best idea but would you consider something like how Genshin yanderes, La signora, Ei (alone or as part of trio with Sara and yae) and nigguang in particular, would react to learning that their darling was being abused by their family, non sexually mind you. I am a sucker for soft yandere content, and have had this idea in my head for nearly a week now lol. Sorry if this ask is a mess, I am not used to sending these. I am not even sure you will see this one.

Order up, fellow chill pill! You brain rotted me so now you will reap what you sowed!

Tw: somewhat-explicit gore on Eimikosara's part, yanderes, depiction of abuse, flashbacks if abuse, mutilation (on eimikosara's part), Ei is electric chair, I had to do some very weird google searches for this, lol.

An: Sorry this took so long, I didn't read the message completely so I thought it was only Signora and Eimikosara. When I reread it and found out I was writing the wrong thing I kind of got writer's block. I also forgot to read the fluff part so Ningguang's part is messed up Stolkholm fluff, though there are cuddle scenes in both Signora and Eimikosara's parts. But still, enjoy!

La Signora

A fist pummeled into your stomach.

Your breath was taken away, left with a shuddering wheeze. Stop. Please, stop.

"Why can't you do anything right!" Your father yelled at you, bottle in hand. Why was he yelling at you?

"Worthless piece of shit!" A kick landed on your shin, your body curling up even more. Tears fell from your eyes. You could barely breathe. Stop! Someone, make it stop!

"Mom-please."

"See! This! This is why you're such a fucking nuisance! You cry for your bitch-ass mother all the fucking time. Why don't you grow up? Huh? Stupid little cunt."

No one was coming to save you or stop anything now.

You woke up, hyperventilating in your and Rosalyne's shared bed.

"Shh, it's alright baby, I'm right here." Bawling your eyes out, she pulled you closer into her chest.

You were wrong. Someone did save you.

But Archons, you were so fucking useless without Rosa. You would've passed out by now from hyperventilation if it wasn't for her. She was right. You should be lucky that she takes care of you. You, useless damn mutt.

"I'm sorry Rosa, please don't leave me again! I'll be good, I promise! I'll even be your little pet if you want me to, I can wear a collar if you want!" You nuzzled into her, crawling on all fours into her lap, just like a dog. So pathetic.

"It's okay, love. You've been a very good little one for me. I won't leave you okay?"

"Thank you, Rosa! I love you so much, thank you for taking care of me." You really were thankful. After all, she could've just left you to die like the pathetic mutt you were.

Even after you came clean about your past, she still loved you. She even tortured and killed the ones who hurt and neglected you as a birthday present! She was such an angel.

You were lucky she loved you so much.

Ei+Miko+Sara

Another sleepless night.

Another scream in the dead of night.

Yae Miko curled up next to you in her fox form nuzzling you and telling you that you were okay. Ei had moved from her place beside you and was now spooning you from behind, playing with your hair. Kujou Sara was in front of you, trying to get you to breathe.

"Another nightmare about them, love?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry," You hid your head in Miko's fur.

"You're alright, dear. You're safe with us. I No one else will ever touch you again, okay dear?" Sara comforted you, exaggerating her breathing for you to copy.

"Love, I'll be just a minute, alright?" Ei moved away and went out of the bedroom. Sara taking her place and now spooning you.

Ei would be the one taking out the trash tonight.

The air stank with iron and filth.

Ei would have preferred to have killed them as soon as they were in her hands but Yae Miko insisted that they suffer before they're given the sweet release of death. In truth, they deserved a hundred thousand deaths if not a million.

They all wished to harm their beloved's abusers in revenge for their darling. However, they knew that those pieces of filth would die much too early if all three of them tortured them at the same time. They all alternated days except for Sundays, Sundays were when they were starved.

Their shared lover's parents were held in chains, dried blood practically covering them. Both of them looked like skeletons, their bones sticking out and at some parts exposed by some of Yae Miko's torture. They lived on a special type of food, edible and able to keep them alive for longer but anyone would have preferred to eat their feces than it.

When they saw Ei, both tried to open their mouths. They probably forgot that they couldn't speak now that Yae chopped off their tongues because they kept saying that they were innocent. As soon as Miko saw them on the edge of death, she cauterized the wound and made one of the servants heal them just so they would live to be tortured a little longer.

'Let's start with a little shock. After all, that's how my love has to wake up because of them.' Ei channelled Electro and made them feel about 30 volts coursing through their veins. They let out undignified yelps, though it wasn't like they had any dignity in the first place, not when they hurt her beloved.

Scars of electro and bloodied bruises covered both of them. Their faces were marred by dried blood, electricity, and scars, so much that they were unrecognizable. Mainly due to Sara feeling guilty because they looked like her lover so Yae scarred them beyond recognition. Their clothes were mere oversized scraps as well.

Ei kicked one of them in the ribs. She didn't matter who, all that mattered was that they suffered.

The night was young and Ei wouldn't be sated until they were thoroughly punished for not letting her beloved get their sleep.

Ningguang

"Love? Love, you're spacing out again. Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah I am, Ning. Just, thinking about them again," you let out a sigh. You were supposed to be having a romantic dinner with your amazing wife, but all you could think about was the past.

Ningguang may have 'forced you' into an arranged marriage with her, making your folks financially unstable to achieve it, but it had been just what you needed.

You were free.

You didn't have to deal with your narcissistic, controlling, asshole parents anymore. You could do what you wanted without having to look over your shoulder every second. You weren't guilt-tripped into giving them money when you were barely afloat. You were living the good life.

All with the bonus of marrying the richest woman in the world, living like the richest person in the world, and having someone to sate your need for affection.

Yes sure, you weren't allowed to leave or speak to anyone other than Ning, but you were fine with that. After all, things could've been much worse. You could've still been in contact with your parents.

You ate like royalty, were dressed in only the finest Liyuean silks, and so on and so forth. You were living in the lap of luxury and all you needed to do to continue doing so was play pet for a nice lady who most likely killed for you in the past. You'd been through worse. Though you couldn't deny that you were a captive.

"Open your mouth," Ningguang spoon-fed you another bite of food.

You might've been a captive, but you knew you'd be lying if you said you weren't falling for her. The way her eyes lit up when you followed her instructions. How her soft yet calloused hand caressed your cheek, making sure you swallowed every grain of rice. Her lips looked so soft right now as well, you couldn't help but bring her lips to yours.

You might've been a captive, but Stockholm was your kidnapper.

[risingriverphoenix]

hihii could i request a viper x radiant reader who was taken by kingdom with viper trying to get them back? thank you! your writings are really good :)

Note: hi ima cry thats so sweet aaaaaaaaaaaaaa thank you!

So, with a lot of things I make, I get inspiration from music, so Find a Way by Mystery Skulls gave me some inspiration. This is also an excuse to just share music I listen to with people.

Viper x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and possible abuse happening, but not described (If anyone ever feels like I've missed a warning, please let me know!)

Words: 1338

Writing under read more

-Kingdom saw your powers, but felt that they could be pushed more, but Valorant was keeping you on a tight leash, specifically Viper. Anytime they even mentioned you, she’d immediately shoot them down. “They’re best suited here, now stop asking.”

-So eventually, they did stop asking…

Viper knocked on your door, folding her arms in annoyance. She thought these days where you accidentally slept in were over with. “Y/N, you need to get up, morning conference is about to start.” But there was no reply, no cheerful good morning, no rushed apology and swearing this’ll never happen again, not even a tired ‘go away’ from you.

The silence gave Viper a tight knot in her chest. “Y/n. It’s time to get up.” She went for the door panel, opening your room to her. “Y/n, enough fooling around, you-“

Gone. You were gone. Your bed wasn’t made yet, but other than that, there were no signs of life. No sign of you. She walked in slowly, looking around, maybe secretly hoping you were just trying to prank her. But on your nightstand laid a necklace, the necklace she had given you. It was a simple gold chain with a cobra charm. She had thought it to be silly when you showed her to it at a store, but when you said it reminded you of her she got it for you. You would never take it off except for bed.

She slowly lifted it up, her hand wanted to tremble but she refused as she brought it closer to her. “No…”

-Viper already had that itching feeling of knowing exactly who took you.

-When confronted about it, they gave the reply that this was for your benefit! I mean, if you’re already so useful, think about how much MORE useful you could be, how many more people you could help.

-It was all bullshit though. You’d be useful, and help people. But only for Kingdom’s own selfish gains.

-When negotiations end on trying to get you back, they leave Viper with a comment. “They’re become a distraction for you, doctor. But please trust us when we say we will take good care of them.”

-If she could strangle the man with his own necktie, she would’ve. But Brimstone placed a warning hand on her shoulder. Not now. Not yet.

-Cypher was already on the case. He’s known for a long time of Kingdom’s lies. He’s already prepared ways to look into their system, to find any needed information. And he easily found where you’d be, giving the chip of info on your location to Sabine.

-“Free of charge.” He had said, but Viper knew he’d be asking for a favor from her in the future. But it would be worth it. You were worth it.

-Brimstone was hesitant on making a big scene on getting you back. “Keep this low. No casualties, understand?” He warned. Knowing full well that if Viper had it her way, she would watch each and everyone of them choke on their own breath.

-The small team of Viper, Fade, Cypher, and Jett were dispatched. Jett was to be a distraction, bringing most folks to investigate the issue, making them think the Mirror agents were here. Cypher disabled the needed security to allow Fade and Viper in. Disabling too much would set off alarms. Anyone left inside on guard duty was going to experience first hand their greatest horrors. Fade easily made most run off in terror, but the few who managed to stand their shaky ground were knocked out by Viper by her (rare) non-toxic gas.

The holding cell they had thrown you into was bare, only a bed and a toilet. You didn’t even get a blanket. The jumper that they had given you was tattered and worn down, despite the short time it was used. Your body was exhausted, your mind fuzzy from the lack of sleep, and your heart ached to be home with your new family, with your love.

The room you’d been staying in was soundproof, both inside and out. So when the door unlocked, you flinched, backing away on your bed from the entrance. You don’t know how much longer you could do this any more.

The piercing light obscured the figure, but already you could tell they weren’t a doctor, they wore no lab coat. When they approached you slowly you held your breath. But when your eyes adjusted, you saw those familiar green eyes. Those eyes that felt like home to you, and death to others.

“Sabine?” You shakely asked.

Suddenly she rushed to your side, holding you close. Took caught in shock, you didn’t return her embrace right away. “H-Hey, the Sabine I know n-never hugs me without me asking.” You were terrified of this being another dream in this waking nightmare. “But… but please be y-you…” Your arms finally came up, clutching at her back as you began to sob into her shoulder.

“I promise you, that it’s me, Y/n.” She softly petted your head. Rarely did you ever hear anything other than annoyance or anger in her voice, but her words were warm and caring, loving. She pulled back slightly, her hands coming up to your face to wipe your tears. Her eyes began examining you, seeing your tired eyes.

Seeing the bumps and bruises on you though, that’s when you could see the anger manifesting in her. Every new injury she saw added a new way to slowly torture the people who did this. Her focus was broken though when a hand came up and pushed a loose lock out of her face. “Can we… can we just go home?” You softly smiled.

She sighs, caressing your cheek and pressing her forehead against yours. “Of course, my dear.”

The tender reunion is interrupted by Fade’s voice. “Hey lovers, I really hate to ruin the moment, but we need to go. Cypher can only keep things offline for so long.

-Fade rubbed your shoulder upon your exit. Though she was the newest agent, she already took a liking to you and your kindness.

-Jett and Cypher greeted you back on the carrier. Jett went to give you a big hug but Cypher held her back to stop her. But you smiled weekly and let her give you a soft hug.

-Cypher walked by as you were finally seated, ruffling your hair as he passed by.

-Once safely home, Viper immediately rushed you to Sage. Thankfully there was nothing too serious, but you needed much rest.

-Viper had you sleep with her that night. And the next. And the next. Ok yeah basically she had you move into her room at this point.

-When talking with Kingdom, the VP decided to tell them that Mirror Earth agents were the one to take you. But luckily for them, they were there to save you, and bring you back home. They were given no room to argue, as they had promised to the team that you would be safe. They were forced to let you stay with them.

-Viper wasn’t outwardly a worrier, but you could feel her eyes on you more often. She didn’t want to baby you, you were an adult and fully capable of taking care of yourself. But she did start making excuses to be by your side more.

-Cooking night? She’d help, even if she didn’t care much to cook for others. Shooting range? She’s one of the best shots but always helps to keep that skill up. Hanging out in the rec room? Well Brim did say she should participate in more team activities. Even if she didn’t enjoy it too much, she enjoyed it enough to tolerate it.

-You notice it all of course, and greatly enjoy her presence. So in return you visit her more often in her lab, or watch whatever was on True Crime with her.

-As long as you two were able to be together, it was good enough for you.

[darkmulti]

(Yandere and non con warning)

Def not the only one who wants a 18th century h.c of possessive and controlling, husband!Jungkook x forced wife!reader. Jungkook gets jealous after witnessing another man asking you out and when you come back home at night, he breeds you. Please make it rough and non con. Thank you❤️‍🔥

-> you’re definitely not the only one. I can assure you that I’ve thought about this too many times😫

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, Squirting/piss play, Physically, mental and emotional abuse, spit play,

-> sorry for any mistakes

Your parents owned a local bakery store

All the recipes were from your late grandmother

You spent almost all of your time there because you were in charge of everything

The store was under your parents’ name but you were the one running it

Sometimes, you even slept there because it’d be too late to walk home

Your dedication to the bakery made it successful

Although, you were the one doing all the work, you parents took all the credit and money

They weren’t paying you because you’re their child

They don’t need to pay you

“It’s a women’s place.” Your father said

You wanted to go back to school however, your parents laughed in your face

“School aren’t for girls, Y/N. Learn how to cook and clean. That’s all you need to know. Let the men handle everything else.”

You were tired of fighting with them and eventually stopped because they threatened to set you up in an arrange marriage

Now, it was just you and the bakery

You had many loyal customers and recently, one has been coming everyday, at the same time

He’d always buy a loaf of banana bread and if he was in a good mood, a blueberry muffin as well

Then, he’d sit in the corner table and eat two - three slices before getting up and leaving

He’d always leave a tip behind and you always kept it for yourself

One day, he didn’t come and you were surprised

For a year straight, he came and bought the same two things

Now, he hasn’t visited in 4 days

Tonight, you came back home for the first time in a while

Your parents had visited the bakery to collect “their” earnings and told you that you have to go somewhere with them that evening

After closing up and cleaning up, you went home and got ready

Your parents were taking you out for dinner as a treat for all your hard work

You were really excited because they were finally acknowledging your hard work

Once you arrived at the restaurant, your parents lead you to a table that already had three people seated

You immediately recognize one of them

It’s that guy who buys your banana loaf!

You sat in front of him while your parents greeted the two other strangers

“Oh, so this is your daughter? She’s gorgeous! Come here and give me a hug.”

You awkwardly chuckled and got up to hug the middle aged women

“Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Jeon F/N, this is my husband, Jeon F/N and this is our son, Jeon Jungkook. We’re your soon to be in laws!”

You heart dropped to the floor

“I-in laws?” You asked, confused

“Yeah, honey. Is this your first time hearing about this? We’ve been talking to your parents for a while now.”

You snapped your head towards you parents and they looked emotionless

“No, no they didn’t tell me anything.”

Dinner with them was hell

Your parents were talking about your wedding arrangements right in front of you

You didn’t know what to do

You wanted to rebel but then your parents would disown you

Just like that, you’d be homeless with little money to survive

In the end, you’d be paying the heavy price

You looked at Jungkook who was staring at you the whole time

You wondered if he knew about this

Maybe, that’s why he came to the bakery everyday

“Did you know anything about this?” You said loud enough for him to hear

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“Since last year.”

You eyes widen, in shock

You were right!

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Why would I stop it when I’m the one who wants it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, in confusion

“What’re you talking about?”

“Since the first day I met you, I wanted to marry you. I told my parents and now, we’re getting married.”

Now, you were mad

You got up and stormed off, catching everyone’s attention

You walked to the bakery and locked yourself in

Here, you thought your parents were acknowledging you for first time, when they were actually setting you up for a marriage so they don’t have to take care of you

You cried yourself to sleep that night

The next couple of weeks, the bakery was closed due to your wedding

The wedding was spectacular

You would’ve love it if you weren’t being forced into a marriage

After the wedding, Jungkook took your precious virginity

He made sure to pleasure you until you passed out

He was so in love with you

Now, he was finally able to show you how much he loved you

And mark you as his

The next couple of months, he was attached to you

He took over his family’s business and you took over your family’s business

He’d visit you every day at work to check if you’re with another man

He was so paranoid about it, sometimes he’d come by 3 or 4 times to make sure you were not cheating

You thought he missed you and that’s why he kept stopping by (which is half true) however, you had no idea that he was possessive and controlling

You had to learn the hard way

Sometimes, you wouldn’t leave work until midnight

You had so much things to do like preparing for the next day, making a to-do list, making a grocery lists, and cleaning every area of the shop

It’s time consuming, so obviously you finish up pretty late

Jungkook absolutely hates that

Although you stay late in the shop once in a while, he can’t stand it

He wants you to be in his arms every night

Jungkook gets angry when you’re not

This was your fourth time staying out late in the shop and he’s had enough

He couldn’t help but feel paranoid about what you were actually doing in the shop

What if you lied and went on a date with another man?

What if you were running away from him?

Or even worse, what if you were having sex with another guy?

He raced to the bakery and banged on the door, which scared you

You saw that it was him and let him in

“W-what’s wrong?! You scared me!”

“Grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

“But I’m not done yet! I only have a couple more things to do and then I’ll come home. I told you already-”

“I don’t think you fucking heard me!” He yelled and grabbed your hair

“Grab your shit, we are leaving right now.”

He pushed you towards the counter and crossed his arms

You let your breath out in shock but scurry to get your stuff

You’ve never seen him like this and it terrified you

“I have my stuff.”

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped you lock the door and wrapped his arm around your waist

The walk home was silent

You were scared shitless

All you wanted to do was run back into your parents’ house

But he didn’t let you move an inch away from him

Once you got home, he started pushing you around and arguing some more

“Jungkook, I told you this afternoon when you came to visit! I said I have to stay late so I don’t have to stress myself out in the morning!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Who were you fucking seeing?!” He screamed, frightening you more

“No one! I swear, no one!” You whimpered

He corned you into your shared room and locked the door

“Jungkook, I swear! Nothing happened!”

He didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth

It was like you were talking to a wall

He pushed you onto the bed and stripped you naked

Jungkook pushed two fingers into your cunt and pretended to scoop out cum

“If nothing happened, why is your cunt full of cum?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t have sex with anyone!”

You weren’t very educated about sex, so Jungkook had an advantage

You began apologizing even though you didn’t have sex with anyone

You just wanted peace between you two

“I’m sorry! I didn’t cheat or anything, but I’m sorry if it hurt you! I really am!”

Jungkook slapped you and spat on your face

“Dirty slut. Telling me that you’re not cheating but still apologizing.”

“No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”

Jungkook pulled his cock out and shoved it in without warning

You were still new to sex so when he didn’t let you adjust, you automatically started screaming and crying

“Please, slower!” You cried, holding onto his biceps as he went faster and deeper

“Stop! Please!”

Jungkook loved the sound of his balls clapping against your ass

It honestly made him harder

All night, he was on top, fucking you hard

Your legs were spread apart, tears in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead

You looked like a hot mess

And he loved every second of it

“Mmh- Jungkook!”

You squirted around him and had a trembling orgasm

You couldn’t stop releasing your liquids on him and he couldn’t stop pounding you

The bed sheet was soaked by the end of it

He pushed his cock deep inside and came

After Jungkook fell asleep, you cried for while

How were you supposed to tolerate him for the rest of your life?

The next morning

You woke up in severe pain

You lower region was begging for some pain relief

But there was nothing you could do about it

Jungkook was still sleeping next to you

You decided to leave before he wakes up

After getting ready by leaning on everything, you slowly walked to town

When you arrived at the bakery, you saw a big “for sale” sign

You panicked and went inside the store, only to be greeted by your parents

“Mother, father! Why is there a “for sale” sign on the bakery?”

You parents looked at each other in disappointment

“You see, we have to explain the obvious to your daughter. Be grateful that someone willingly married your idiot daughter.” Your father said before walking out

His words did hurt but you cared about the bakery more than your father

“Why’re you selling it, mother? Can you not afford it anymore? Why-”

“Shut up, Y/N! You’re married now, you have wifely duties. You don’t have time for this bakery so the best option is to sell it.”

Your world fell apart right before your eyes

“But mother-”

“Save it. You already made your father upset. I’m warning you now, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

You cried the whole morning

After you opened the bakery, lots of people gathered in line

All breads, cakes and muffins were going on sale

After you served the people in line, you went up to the tables and took their order

After you served them, a regular customer who was sitting alone gestured you to come over

You went over to the man and asked him if he needed anything

He told you to take a seat and accompany him

Since the crowd died down, you sat down in front of him

“You look a bit stressed and sad. What’s on your mind?”

You were touched by his words

Finally, someone cared about you

You told him you were upset about the bakery closing

He understood and even offered money to help you keep it open

You were flattered but didn’t accept the money

“Money’s not a problem, my parents just don’t want to keep this shop open.”

You talked with this guy for a couple of hours

Although this was your first time talking to him, you talked to him like he was your best friend

When closing time came around, he got up and asked you out on a date

You didn’t know what to do

You were married but you really liked this guy

You were considering saying yes when someone pulled his shoulder back and punched him across the face

“Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think I didn’t see that?! I saw it all. I saw you flirting with my wife for three hours straight and then asking her out on a date!”

Jungkook beat the crap out of the guy and pushed him outside

He then came back in the store, looking at you with devil eyes

“Yesterday’s punishment clearly wasn’t enough.”

The entire way home, he was yelling at you, slapping you, spitting on you, pulling your hair, pushing you to the ground and choking you

You were crying the whole time, apologizing over and over

When you arrived home, he seriously had no mercy on you

No foreplay, no lube, no adjusting

Just a raw, thick cock being forced into you

You were begging him to let you go but tonight, nothing was going to stop him

He was moving his hips insanely fast, not giving you enough time to breathe

You were choking on your own sobs

“Jungkook, please no! I’m sorry!”

“Why did you hesitate to deny his offer? You are a married fucking women!” With each word a hard thrust followed, knocking all the air out of you

“Answer me! Is he better than me? Does he take care of you? Does he provide money for you? TELL ME!” He was yelling so loudly, it was making you cry harder

“N-no, he doesn’t. He was just the first person to care about me.” You whispered the last sentence but, Jungkook was able to make it out

“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?”

He got more aggressive and fastened his pace

“Tell me, Y/N! Do you think that I don’t care about you?!”

You couldn’t answer him because you couldn’t catch your breath

He was going too fast and you were crying so hard, you couldn’t breathe

Jungkook noticed how much you were struggling and added onto your struggle by holding your neck down

“Apologize, right now Jeon Y/N!”

You softly apologize but it wasn’t good enough for him

He lifted your legs a little, giving him better access and fucked you till you squirted

This time you sobbed your apology and begged for forgiveness

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook! It’ll never— ah! It’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry! Please for- forgive me for my dumb m-mistake. Please! I’m begging you.” You held onto the bed sheet, praying he would stop

He huskily growled and pushed his cock in deep

“For the next 9 months you’ll be swelling with my baby. Now, everyone can back off.”

He shot his hot cum right into you, filling you up to the rim

Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 3:41am 😄

[seijorhi]

A Thousand Words

as promised, a Valentine’s Day fic 💕 

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

TW implied dub/non-con, cheating, minor choking/abuse, nsfw(ish)

You break up with Iwaizumi two weeks before Valentine’s Day, standing in the doorway of the apartment you share with him.

And you hate that it still hurts, still tugs at the wretched, broken strings of your heart to watch that rare, beautiful smile of his fracture like glass, confusion giving way to disbelief and then finally anguish.

Iwa’s never been the best with his words, but it seems that you’ve robbed him of those too as you tell him that your relationship’s over. He just stands there, wide eyed, agonised as you shove your phone – the proof – into his face, a hoarse, strangled whisper of ‘why’ leaves his lips. 

It seems that it’s all that he’s capable of.

There’s nothing for him to say anyway. You don’t want his apologies or his excuses. The pictures are evidence enough. 

A boys weekend, he’d told you, and you’d trusted him. You loved him. He wasn’t like your ex, Iwa would never deliberately do anything to hurt you. 

He knew what fidelity meant to you.

You’d thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him, but those pictures are enough to show you what a fool’s dream that was. Iwa, naked in bed, wrapped around some other woman.

Sleeping so peacefully, curled up by her side, like he’d done with you a thousand times.

And it doesn’t matter whether he was drunk or not. It doesn’t matter if he knew her or paid for her or found her at some fancy fucking bar downtown. He cheated on you, he broke your heart and he doesn’t get to watch you fall apart in front of him.

You save your tears until the door swings shut, collapsing onto the floor with a heartbroken wail as the man you love walks away.

—

Iwaizumi doesn’t remember much of that night. He’s never been a lightweight, but the drinks they were knocking back would’ve been enough to take out the best of them. And Iwa didn’t have to worry, not when he was out with friends. 

God knows they’d gotten him into so much shit when they were younger and stupider, but between the four of them they’ll stop each other from doing anything too damaging. They have careers now (most of them, anyway) and reputations to protect. And Iwa had you.

Out of everything; his career, his reputation, his livelihood, you were the one thing Iwa wouldn’t risk fucking up.

The night itself is a hazy, incomprehensible blur, but he does remember the girl. Not her name or where she came from, but he remembers her. A pretty face with a sultry smile, wearing some short, tight, shimmering dress. He remembers her sitting on Oikawa’s lap, fingers carding through his hair, red lips kissing at his jaw.

And he remembers Oikawa lounging back in his seat, barely paying the poor girl an ounce of attention, even when her hand started to run teasingly up his thigh, those same sinful lips whispering into his ear.

How the girl managed to find her way from Oikawa’s lap to his hotel bedroom is beyond him, but the pictures don’t lie. It’s his arm wrapped around her waist, her skin littered with love bites and fingerprint shaped bruises.

It was her mouth he’d woken up to, trailing a slow, teasing path up along his chest. He’d shoved her aside, snapped and snarled until the pretty thing welled up with tears and all but fled, leaving him to fall back into the sheets full of self loathing and disgust, wondering how he could possibly have fucked up this badly.

And when he threw up later, hurling until there was nothing left in his stomach, he knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d drunk.

Iwa hadn’t known that anybody knew, hadn’t thought that there was proof – not until you were shoving it in his face, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep your tears at bay. And what could he say? 

It was a mistake?

He was drunk?

Iwa doesn’t make excuses, you deserve more than that. You deserve more than him.

He should’ve fallen to his knees and begged – begged you through tears if he had to – for you to give him a second chance. But the words stuck in his throat, because the look of absolute, utter heartbreak on your face felt like a fist driving into his gut, and he wasn’t sure if he even deserved it.

You break up with him two weeks before Valentine’s Day, entirely unaware of the ring he’s been carrying around in his pocket for almost a month now, and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

So he does the only thing he can, and calls Oikawa.

—

Moving your things out of the apartment you’d spent the last year and a half sharing with your boyfriend – your ex-boyfriend – takes less time than you think. The life you’d started to build with him, packed up in nice neat little boxes in only a few hours.  

And you’re grateful that he’s not there. He’d messaged you to tell you that he wouldn’t be, the only contact you’d had with him since breaking up. 

It’s not the pictures on the nightstand, Iwa’s strong arms wrapped around you, a dopey little grin on his face that gets to you – it’s the World’s Best Boyfriend mug he’d bought you as a joke one day, the old hoodie of yours that was actually his, the one you’d worn half to death because it was warm and smelled like him. 

It’s hard enough to do this without him hovering over you, but stupidly you’d forgotten that while Iwa had promised not to be there, he wasn’t the only one with a key to your shared apartment.

The lock clicks and the door swings open just as you’re finishing up in the bedroom and for one single, split second, your heart jumps into your throat.

But the brunette that saunters in isn’t the one you’re still in love with, and you’re quick to brush away the tears on your face before he can see.

Before he can mock you for it.

Oikawa, ever the charmer, merely grins when he catches sight of you. 

“Did Iwa send you to supervise?” you say in lieu of a proper greeting, the words slightly more bitter than you intend – even for him. 

He isn’t bothered by it, his grin widening just a fraction as he turns and settles down on the bed, long legs stretched out, ankles casually crossed over. He looks entirely too comfortable there and it’s an effort not to bristle.

“Well hello to you too,” he says, his voice a teasing lilt. “Are you always this fun in the mornings?”

Your brows draw together in a frown, but just as you open your mouth to snap a retort, his palms come up in a gesture of mock surrender. “No, Iwa did not send me to supervise you. He doesn’t know I’m here, actually.”

“Then why are you here? To gloat?” you spit.

Oikawa’s eyes glitter, amusement tugging at his lips. You love Iwaizumi, and for his sake you’ve spent the past few years tolerating the constant, overbearing presence of his best and oldest friend. Oikawa, on the other hand has never made all that much of an effort to hide the fact that he doesn’t exactly approve of your relationship with his friend.

Oh, he’s never outwardly rude or hurtful. He doesn’t sit there and spew abuse at you, and as far as you know he hasn’t tried to sway Iwa into leaving you since the very early days of your relationship, but Oikawa doesn’t need to be overt to make his feelings clear.

He treats you like a one night stand that hasn’t quite gotten the hint that it’s time to fix your dress and move right along. 

You still haven’t forgotten the night you all went out to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, how he’d slid into Iwa’s empty seat the moment he’d slipped out to get another round of drinks and spoken so casually, as if it was nothing but a friendly conversation. Small talk. 

“You know it won’t last; you and Iwa.”

And you hadn’t said a word, not wanting to be baited into fighting – into ruining Iwa’s night. You hadn’t even scowled at him, just sat there, pretending that he didn’t exist as you waited for your boyfriend to come back to you. 

“You’re cute together, I’ll give you that much,” he’d mused, swallowing the last mouthful of his beer. He’d studied you from beneath long lashes for a moment; a sharp, lingering look entirely at odds with the easy, relaxed tone of his voice. “But you two aren’t a good match. You don’t belong with him.”

You never did figure out exactly what you’d done to make him dislike you so much, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

Not when he’s finally proven himself to be right. 

“Please,” he says with a scoff, rolling those pretty eyes of his, “as if I’d be so immature. I’m just here to make sure you don’t steal the coffee machine – it’s so much better than the one I have at home.”

He spends the next half hour trailing you from room to room, looking entirely too delighted at your misery. It’s almost a relief when you slip into the bathroom just for a moment’s fucking peace, brushing angrily away at the tears that still haven’t left you.

You almost – almost – reach for your phone to message Iwa and tell him to call off his stupid, infuriating friend, except you’d left it lying on the kitchen bench.

—

His head hurts. An incessant pounding, throbbing ache that makes him want to hurl.

Rationally, he’d known that the cure for the monstrous hangover he’d given himself wasn’t going out for a run at five in the morning, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was either that or keep drinking, and considering it was the alcohol that had gotten him into this fucking mess in the first place…

“I need to fix this,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands, letting his fingers roughly run through the tangles of his hair. “I need to fucking fix this.”

He looks like shit, feels like shit, but he can’t bring himself to care, not even as a solid weight drops itself onto the couch beside him. 

“You need to give her space, Iwa,” Oikawa comments with a sigh, passing him a glass of water that he gratefully chugs. “Give her time to figure things out. She’s hurting, and you constantly harassing her won’t do you any favours in trying to win her back.”

He wants to see the truth in his friend’s wisdom. He knows he hurt you, he knows he fucked up, but–

You’d already moved your things out.

He’d known that, of course he had, but coming home to see every trace of you just gone was like a gut punch. He was gonna marry you, get down on one fucking knee in front of everybody and– and now you’re gone and he’s crashing in his best friend’s spare bedroom because the thought of going home without you there is too fucking painful for him to bare.

And he only has himself to blame for it. 

But you’re his future, the only one he really gives a damn about, and he’s not one to just give up and walk away. Iwa doesn’t care if it takes weeks or months, he doesn’t care if he has to spend the rest of his life making this up to you; he will. 

He can’t just let you go. 

Oikawa continues to try and talk sense beside him, but he’s barely paying attention, only offering a small grunt of acknowledgement when he feels the brunette’s eyes studying him. He knows that he’s only trying to help, but he can’t honestly remember the last time Oikawa bothered to introduce him to one of the girls hanging off his arm. He knew as well as his friend did that there wasn’t much point – they wouldn’t be sticking around for long. Fuck, he doesn’t think that Oikawa’s ever had a serious relationship in his life, so excuse him if he’s a little hesitant to take his advice as gospel.

And Oikawa doesn’t know you like Iwaizumi does. He doesn’t understand you, doesn’t see what Iwa does when he looks at you. You’re like… sunlight. There’s no other way he can describe it. It’s cheesy and stupidly sappy, he’d rather be shot than admit it out loud, but he’s never met another person so–so… radiant. You burn bright, and Iwaizumi can’t help but be drawn to you – your warmth and your softness and everything about you. You’re beautiful and caring and you’re home and he’s terrified that if he waits too long, somebody else is gonna see that and snatch you up for themselves and he won’t even be able to blame them for it.

He knows he fucked up, knows that you probably (rightfully) hate him, but he has to try. 

So he ignores the way that Oikawa huffs and rolls his eyes when he reaches for his phone, opening up your last conversation.

Please, can we talk? I know you don’t want anything to do with me right now but I’m begging you. Just ten minutes?

And his heart pounds against his ribcage so violently that he thinks he might be sick as he waits for it to send. Waits for the little ‘Read’ notification to pop up.

And waits.

And waits.

Error. Message failed to send.

He tries again, distinctly aware of the Oikawa’s watchful, curious gaze peering over his shoulder.

Error. Message failed to send.

There’s a sinking feeling in his gut and in his panic, he presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear with a sick feeling in his stomach.

It doesn’t even ring, there’s just three beeps and the line disconnects.

You’ve blocked his number.

—

You second guess yourself with every step, but you don’t stop and you don’t turn around. 

The radio silence from your ex had been a little unexpected, but you’d been the one to tell him in no uncertain terms that the two of you were done.

You were the one to make a point of moving out, keeping the few messages you’d exchanged short and to the point. Were you expecting him to fight you on it? Blow up your phone with messages and voicemails begging you to come back? Maybe show up at your door demanding that you hear him out and give him another chance. 

Were you maybe just the tiniest bit disappointed that he hadn’t? 

It wasn’t remotely fair to expect that of him, you know that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart had leapt into your throat the moment his message had come through after days of nothing.

Can we talk face to face? I need to see you. 

Two sentences, that was it. And you’d spent the better part of an hour debating whether or not you should reply.

Because you love him still, despite it all. 

The last person you’d given a second chance to had used that chance to walk all over you. He’d broken your heart, your trust, and any semblance of self worth you’d had. Iwaizumi had been the one to build you back up afterwards. 

And now he’d done the same thing. Knowing what you’d gone through before, and it gutted you.

The date on the calendar hasn’t slipped your attention. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you’d spent all morning trying to forget that if things were different, you would have spent the day with Iwa. He’d been secretive about his plans, tight lipped for once in his life, and there’d been some part of you that had wondered, hoped even… but instead you’re sitting alone in a hotel room, feeling miserable for yourself. 

If you were stronger, maybe, and if today were any other day, you might have ignored the message, the way those two brief sentences made your pathetic heart ache, but–

But… perhaps you had been a little too hasty when you’d broken it off. Iwa hadn’t said a word to defend himself, but you hadn’t really given him the option, had you?

Agreeing to meet with him wasn’t agreeing to brush it all under the rug. It wasn’t a promise of forgiveness, or even really an olive branch. It just meant that you would go to hear him out, that’s all.

Just to hear him out.

Yet your stomach’s twisting into knots as you walk up the familiar steps, your heart beating out an unsteady rhythm. You love him, despite it all.

You love him, but that doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you raise a fist to knock.

The smiling face that greets you when that door swings open, however, is not the one you’re expecting.

“Hey there, cutie. You’re early.”

Oikawa.

For one single, floundering heartbeat, confusion grips you. Why was he– was Iwaizumi not coming? Had you misunderstood the message, or… or had he changed his mind, backed down at the last second and sent his friend to hammer the final nail into the coffin of your failed relationship.

You didn’t think Iwaizumi would be the type, though. He’d never been cruel, he’d never been cowardly, either.

“I don’t… understand,” you breathe, wide eyes darting around as if you’re expecting your ex to suddenly pop up behind his shoulder and shove him aside with a growl, telling him to butt out of your relationship the way he had countless times before.

Yet Oikawa offers no explanation, that same stupid, infuriating grin widening as he steps back to let you in, and you, somewhat robotically, follow him inside. Your eyes flicker from his back to the apartment around you – it’s exactly how you left it last week, not a single thing out of place. 

“Iwa said–” but your voice falls silent as you realise that no, that’s not true. 

The door to your bedroom is ajar, soft, flickering light spilling out from the crack, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the rose petals on the floor, the dulcet music playing so quietly you’d missed it entirely. 

Your brow furrows, breath catching in your throat as you stare at the scene before you, utterly frozen. You don’t register Oikawa stepping closer, nor the dark hunger brewing in his eyes. None of this makes any sense, you don’t understand–

“Iwa’s not coming.” Long, delicate fingers grip your chin, tilting your face and before you can even draw breath his lips are pressing against yours. It only lasts a second, long enough for your lagging brain to register that Oikawa is kissing you, here, in the middle of the apartment you’d shared with his best friend.

Oikawa, who hates you. Who’s cupping your cheek, gazing at you with an expression so eager and wanting, so unnervingly wrong that it makes your heart clench in fear and your blood run cold.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone,  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

And then he’s grabbing at your hand, fingers entwining with yours as he tugs you towards the bedroom, and finally the shock wears off enough for reality to kick in.

“What the fu– Oikawa, get the hell off of me!” you snap, trying to wrench yourself free. But he’s stronger than he looks, and his grip merely tightens.

“Tooru,” he calls back, glancing over his shoulder with that impish, wicked little smirk. “I want you to moan it for me tonight. You can do that for me, right cutie?”

You’re not a violent person, you’ve never been the type to lash out with fists and blows, but something inside of you just snaps at his words, and before you can stop yourself, your open palm flies towards his face. 

Quick as lightning, Oikawa spins, catching at your wrist and slamming you up against the living room wall. A small burst of pain radiates through your skull from the impact, your breath forced from your lungs in a pathetic squeak as he boxes you in. There’s not a moment for you to catch your breath, though, not with his forearm pressing down on your throat just hard enough so that you can feel it. He’s always been taller than you, but you’d never considered him to be intimidating – not until he’s looming over you, teeth bared in that feral smirk.

“Oh, baby. If you’re not going to play nice, I won’t either.” His fingers tighten on your wrist, squeezing until a choked whimper slips out and he kisses you once more. Not soft or sweet, but bruising, teeth clacking, nipping and biting and harshly sucking at your bottom lip until you return it.

And when he pulls away, there’s blood on his lips – yours – and he licks it away with a satisfied little hum. “I put effort into this, you know,” he says, his tone almost conversational if not for the slight pant, the shivering undercurrent that laces every word. Oikawa leans closer, and you can feel the outline of his cock, hardening already as he presses it against you, rutting his hips ever so slightly. “Set the bedroom up nice and romantic for our first time together.”

He kisses you again, a sweet, tender peck, smiling when you part.

“But if you want me to fuck you here first, up against the wall, all you had to do was say so.”

—

The girl had been easy enough to convince to play along, which probably should have disgusted him. 

She looked like you; a cheap imitation, of course, but close enough. Oikawa could kid himself that it was for Iwaizumi’s sake, to sow the seeds of doubt in his head, but he knows as he forces her face down into the pillow, slamming his hips against her ass like a man possessed, that that’s not the whole truth.

But she served her purpose well enough, letting him fuck her, mark up that pristine skin with the same kind he’d seen littered across your neck and collarbones, your thighs–

And she’d still tried to kiss him the moment before slipping out of her robe and climbing into his best friend’s bed. Given him that playful wink, biting her bottom lip seductively as if she were anything but a means to an end for him. 

As if he hadn’t forgotten her name the moment he’d gotten those pictures.

Oikawa knows all about your ex and how that asshole treated you, out of all the possible scenarios he could have engineered, this would be the one that’d hurt you the most. He’d thought that you would fly off the handle, kick Iwa out for a few days and leave the door open just wide enough for him to weasel his way in, but you’d gone one step further. 

You’d left him.

Broken his heart completely, the way he’d broken yours. Oikawa couldn’t have planned it better himself, and oh what he would have killed to have been there to see it. 

And it’s not that he enjoys his best friend’s pain – truly, he wants Iwa to be happy, he does.

Just not with you. Not when you’re his.

It was easy enough to bully Iwa into revealing when you’d be coming over to pick up your things. Easy enough to rile you up to the point you’d run and hide just so he wouldn’t see you shed all those pretty tears.

Leaving your phone unattended. And really, it’s your own fault for choosing such an obvious passcode – how could he possibly resist?

You were none the wiser, his poor, unsuspecting little idiot. 

Yet for all your posturing and your badly concealed hurt, he’d known that you’d show up today. You’re a romantic at heart, and you’d let yourself be walked all over again if you thought it meant that somebody loved you, wouldn’t you?

You would’ve said yes when he’d gotten down on one knee, and when he’d come back to you with tears in his eyes, drowning in regret and you saw what a mess Iwaizumi was without you, you would have forgiven him – even if it meant giving him the power to break you all over again.

Oikawa honestly doesn’t know whether he should admire or pity you for it.

It hardly matters now, he supposes. Not when you’re so beautifully wrecked, lying nestled against his bare chest with those tears he adores spilling down your flushed cheeks. Every thump of your heart echoing his. 

He wonders if he should send Iwaizumi a picture. 

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 6 - Festival

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Teasing and a little bit of Fluff.

Summary: Your best friend Rina is curious about what's been keeping you so busy, and the two of you run into Gojo and his student at a food festival.

A/N: I have been working on my jjk fics but this chapter was a little bit difficult for me to write. A little bit of backstory and plot building here. Gojo and personal space? Non-existent. You can't tell me that the man wouldn't abuse his flirting rights.

- - - 

“Aren’t you a little warm in that top?”

Rina glanced at the high collared t-shirt you were wearing under your mini dress. The top covered the marks that Gojo left on your neck but the material was a little too thick for the summer heat. Thankfully, there was a breeze cooling you off otherwise you would be dripping with sweat.

“I’m fine,” you replied, directing your attention onto the vendors instead of your best friend’s narrowed eyes.

Rina asked you to come along to check out a food festival set up in the city. The entire district was lined with painted stalls which made for a picture perfect scene. The rich aroma of cooked food danced around you, enticing the bustling crowd that was growing in numbers. From golden battered fried takoyaki balls to mouthwatering barbecued yakitori, rainbow cotton candy that sent strings of sugar into the air and sweet kakigori to cleanse the palette…

Everything was making your stomach grumble.

“Oh, let’s get okonomiyaki!” Rina suggested.

After picking up your orders, you both sat at an empty table where you could enjoy your meal. You were ignoring the way Rina continued looking at you suspiciously, clearly not letting go of her obsession with the top you were wearing.

“Okay, that’s it. Let me see it.”

“See what?” you questioned, covering your mouth as you tried to chew on your food.

“The hickey you are hiding.”

You nearly choked as you swallowed but Rina didn’t flinch at your reaction. You patted your chest lightly, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts.

“I’m not hiding anything!” you replied defensively.

Rina rolled her eyes at you, “then at least tell me who the guy is…”

You waved your arm nonchalantly in her direction, desperately trying to avoid getting into a losing battle with your best friend. If there was one person in the world who didn’t need superhuman abilities to tell what you were thinking - it was Rina. She read you like an open book, making it near impossible for you to keep a secret from her. How you managed to go this long without her figuring out you were hooking up with Gojo was a miracle.

“I just want to know exactly what has been keeping you so busy recently,” she continued, “I’m having a hard time believing it’s work because you would be in a miserable mood if you were spending all your free time at the office.”

“ Or we can talk about how absolutely delicious this is...” you blurted, letting her words travel in your ear and out the other as you pointed at the meal in front of you.

Rina lifted her brow, shaking her head in disapproval. She calmly placed her chopsticks on her plate, leaning forward a little closer to you before hooking her finger in the collar of your shirt and tugging it down to check your neck.

“LIAR!”

You clasped your hand over the mark, your eyes widening as you prodded your best friend with your other finger.

“Oh, you are in trouble!” a sly smile spread across her pretty face, “when did you start dating again? I thought you swore off men after what happened with the fitness instructor..”

“Please don’t remind me of him…”

“Then who is this mystery man that you are hiding?”

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to reveal the truth about the deal you and Gojo had made. Yes, you were having fun together and none of it was supposed to be as serious as you were making it out in your head. In fact, Rina would probably applaud you for initiating this to begin with.

But…

Rina also liked to ask hard questions: why were you using him instead of confronting your heartbreak? Why were you chasing after something false instead of trying for real love again? Do you really want to risk ruining the friendship you both have?

Those were questions that you didn’t have the answers to.

“It’s...It’s some guy at work, you don’t know him…” you stated, finally settling on a good enough excuse to satisfy her curiosity

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Just a few weeks…” you fibbed.

“Tell me what he’s like?”

“Uhh…he’s fun, I guess …handsome, kind of charming…but it’s only been a few dates, I still don’t really know him well yet.”

You swallowed hard, hating yourself for not having the courage to tell Rina the truth. Your best friend continued throwing questions at you while your brain spat out the answers before you could even think things through, your guilt twisting your insides with all the lies you were spewing.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner…”

Rina smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I just want you to be happy. If you like this guy, you should give him a chance. Who knows, maybe this could turn into something serious…”

“I am not really looking for anything serious,” you admitted, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “At least not right now…”

How could you want something serious after what happened?

You and your ex-boyfriend were together for five years. You met him when you were both at university and he swept you off your feet. His handsomeness showed through his kind personality and he always managed to make you smile. He was your first of many things, including this painful heartbreak.

You hated yourself for getting comfortable with him, for allowing your mind to plan a future that you both could share. You were disappointed that he made you fall in love with him but more so, that he abandoned you to piece together what was left.

You always felt like you never had your closure. When you asked him why he cheated, he never gave you a solid answer. He was ashamed for keeping his infidelity a secret for so long that his only response was a pathetic apology.

Who was this woman that he was willing to jeopardize your relationship for?

Why did he stop loving you?

You blamed yourself because you couldn’t understand.

One minute you were happy and the next you found yourself betrayed in the worst way possible.

You had enough respect for yourself to know that you couldn’t stay with a man who would treat you this way. When you broke up, you expected him to beg for your forgiveness. He was your prince charming, of course he would come crawling back.

You only knew that he had moved on with his lover when you caught the two of them at the supermarket together. They were buying peas, completely entranced with one another and the adoration that your former boyfriend used to look at you with was now passed on to the woman with golden hair.

He was your weakness and you…

You still loved him.  

Rina’s eyes shifted to the crowd, pausing when she recognised a face among the sea of strangers.

“Oh! Look who is over there!”

You glanced over your shoulder, following her line of sight until you saw your dirty little secret wave at you from a distance.

Gojo was eating ice cream, mindlessly swerving around the crowd and looking exceptionally fine in his summer fit. Adorned on the top of his head were cat ears, a little souvenir trinket that some of the vendors were selling at their stalls. His free arm was draped across a teen boy’s shoulder, whose unamused face indicated that he was not keen on being here.

“Rina-chan!” Gojo sang as he approached your table, “it’s nice to see you!”

“You too! How are things?”

“Great! Busy with the usual but today I decided to stop by with my student. This is Megumi…”

The boy awkwardly bowed to greet you and Rina.

“It’s nice to meet you both…”

Gojo’s shades slid down his nose slightly, and you caught a glimpse of those blue eyes. When he winked in your direction, you couldn’t help but blush.

“What are you two up to?” he casually asked.

“Well, I finally got Miss “Busy All The Time” to myself today and we just had some okonomiyaki, that guy over there is selling it…”

Gojo hummed and swirled his tongue around his vanilla ice cream before calmly replying, “I know, she’s been so preoccupied lately! Oi, when are we going to have our catch up session?”

Your face grew warmer, Gojo was good at keeping secrets and him playing off like he hasn’t been the one taking up all of your spare time only resulted in you staring at him with furrowed brows.

Thankfully, Megumi interrupted the conversation.

“I’m going to walk around for a bit,” he stated, turning his heel to walk away from your little group.

“I’ll meet up with you in a minute,” Gojo replied with a nod.

“I’m also going to use this opportunity to find the restroom. Gojo can keep you company until I get back,” Rina added, as she stood up from her seat.

Gojo gave her a thumbs up, “happily!”

The sorcerer took Rina’s place, sitting down across from you while his long legs bumped into yours as he adjusted his position. He paused for a moment, watching your friend and his student disperse into the crowd before finally returning his attention back to you.

“Nice outfit by the way but a little warm for today’s weather in my opinion.”

“I wonder whose fault that is…” you mused, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at his teasing comment, “I bet you think you’re so cute assuming you’re completely innocent in all this.”

Gojo smiled, “Actually, I know I’m cute.”

You couldn’t deny it, even right now as you watched him with those ridiculous cat ears that pulled back his white locks. He definitely was catching the eye of every girl and guy who passed by.

You flicked one of the black ears on his head,  “this is a new look for you…”

“I bought it for Megumi but he wasn’t too pleased wearing it around, kept saying that I was embarrassing him...” Gojo explained with a frown.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on your thighs and bringing the ice cream in his hand to your face.

“Want a taste?” he asked innocently.

Your heart skipped a beat, unaware that Gojo would get this close to you in public. He knew that you hadn't told anybody about what you both have been doing and you wondered if he was deliberately trying to put you in an awkward position. You subconsciously scanned the crowd to see if Rina or Megumi were around.

You tilted your head back slightly before asking, “do you understand the concept of personal space?”

“Relax,” Gojo said in a low voice, “no one is paying attention to us.”

“What if they come back…”

“I’ll see them before they see us,” he replied with confidence, grazing his free hand over your thigh. “Besides, you look like you could use something to cool you off…”

You arched your brow, deciding to give in and play this little flirtation game. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your hand around his slender fingers and slowly leaning forward to lick the ice cream off his cone. You kept your gaze on Gojo, focusing on the devilish smirk that spread across his lips as he watched with approval.

“Mmm, that is good…” you moaned, before looking at him with glittering eyes, “wait, I didn’t get any ice cream on my face, did I?”

Gojo chuckled under his breath, “you’ve got a little something right here…”

His hand moved up to your face, his fingers holding your chin as he brought your lips to his. You inhaled, holding your breath as you were caught off guard by him stealing a kiss. The moment was fleeting and before you knew it, he parted his lips from yours but trailed his hand down your neck to take a peek at the hickey he left on your skin.

“I usually don’t care about where I mark you but if it’s a big concern I’ll make sure to do it in places where only I can see…”

Even though he spoke in a low whisper, you felt like it was loud enough for the whole crowd to hear how flustered you just got by his words.

You cleared your throat, turning your face away from him to regain your composure. “Behave, Satoru…”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “I could keep going but Rina will be back in any minute…”

You sensed a hint of annoyance in his voice when he said that.

The sorcerer leaned back, inviting the space that separated you both as he ate his ice cream with indifference. Sometimes you wish you could flip the switch as easily as he did but you found it impossible.

Rina arrived before you could even respond to his statement.

“What did I miss?” she asked, patting Gojo lightly on the shoulder to request returning to her seat.

“Nothing special,” Gojo answered with a shrug as he stood up , “I think I’m going to head back and find this kid before he leaves without me knowing.”

“Enjoy the rest of your evening! Also, you should stop by the candy shop sometime. I’ve been working on some new treats I think you might like…”

“I will,” he promised, stretching the lying game even further. He proceeded to remove the headband he was wearing, his white hair flopping over his shades as he handed you the cat ears. “Hold on to these for me won’t you…”

You took it, puzzled by the sudden gesture.

“What for?”

“Just an excuse to pick it up from you later,” he remarked innocently, “otherwise I’ll never see you!”

Rina laughed, clearly not catching on to his hidden invitation. Gojo waved goodbye and walked away, leaving you both to return to your date.

For a moment you thought your lie was about to catch up to you but realised that it was easy keeping this secret because nobody would expect you to hook up with Gojo.

You guys have been playing this song and dance for a while, saving your flirtatious banter and curiosities for when you two were alone together. Maybe you’ll come clean eventually, but for now you wanted to enjoy the bubble you were in.

You played with the cat ears in your hand, completely unaware that you were smiling to yourself.

- CHAPTER 7: GAMES - 

[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (8/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Aaron

TW: mentions of hospitalization and drugs, implications of abuse, mental illness and murder

Aaron tries very hard

that phrase alone could very well sum up his existence

he tries to be a good student

he tries to be a good backliner

he tries to be a good teammate

he tries to be a good person

he tries to be a go- he tries to be a brother

he tries so, so hard

but life is harder

he’d tried being a good son, and failed

his mother was dead, and died hating him

he’d tried being a good boyfriend, and failed

Katelyn was gone, and left him crying

so Aaron was trying, and now?

he was trying to find himself, to grow, to heal…

which was very, very difficult when in counselling sessions with your just-as-traumatized twin brother

they’d both worked through Andrew and Neil’s non-relationship, and through Aaron and Katelyn’s fallout

Aaron had expected it to be the other way around

turns out that while he thought Katelyn deserved better, she thought he deserved better too

she had her own demons to deal with too, in the end

and so while everyone pretty much expected Aaron’s demons to be too big for Katelyn, it was hers that had been too much for the both of them

he couldn’t reach her, couldn’t get through to her, couldn’t help her

one fateful night, she had asked him, sobbing and breathless, to make the call

the call to take her away, the call to save her from herself

the paramedics had put her on a gurney, and they had said their goodbyes

I’m sorry Aaron… I’m so sorry, I wanted to be strong for you… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m so scared… It hurts so much, Aaron… I’m sorry… Please take care of yourself, baby, please… I’m sorry…

she was wheeled away, and hadn’t seen her in a year since

they corresponded, though

4 months into her admission at a private psychiatric hospital, she had sent him a handwritten letter

she had told him about her routine, her new friendships, her therapists…

she’d told him about the work she was doing on herself, about the traumas she had been too ashamed to share with him…

after the fifth or sixth letter, Aaron had started responding

he never told anyone

until this week

he’d lost count of how many letters he’d received from her, and how many he’d sent her back

but this letter…

this one was different

this one broke his heart so much, that he walked out of his dorm, the letter still clutched in one hand, grabbed Andrew on his way out of Fox Tower, and made him drive to Betsy’s office

without a single word

Betsy was surprised, to say the least, to see Aaron entering first, distress in his eyes, and Andrew following close behind, clueless

Aaron handed Betsy the letter, sat down, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, eyes closed

Bee: Correct me if I’m wrong, Aaron, but from what I understand of the situation, you would like to share this with Andrew?

Aaron: And with you. Bee.

Bee: That is very generous of you Aaron. And brave. Would you like me to read the letter out loud?

Aaron nodded, never looking up

My dear Aaron,

What I’m about to tell you in this letter is very different from our usual correspondence. You know I’ve been working on things since the beginning of my hospitalization. Big things. Ugly things. But important things. And you are not a thing, Aaron, but you are important. You were forced to play a role in the mess that was my life, but that role saved me. From myself. You made the tough call, you took it upon yourself to protect me, even if it meant putting me away and losing me. Losing us.

I’m not so good with spoken words, and I feel safe here, in this bubble we’ve created for ourselves. But I would like you to believe me when I say that the words I’m about to tell you, I would repeat them to you outloud for the rest of my life if it could make amends for what I’ve put you through. One word from you and I would come in person to tell you how much I mean them.

I am grateful for you, Aaron Minyard.

I am eternally thankful that you have crossed the path of my life. You have helped me in more ways than you know, in more ways that I could possibly imagine. It’s so important that you know that, Aaron. It’s important to me, because you deserve to know, and you deserve the recognition. Because I know you don’t think much of yourself. Because I know you think this was all your fault. Because I know you, a little bit, at least. You did the best you could with what you had, and it was enough, Aaron. You cared for me when you didn’t have to, when you couldn’t, when you were going through it yourself, and I can’t thank you enough. But I can try. So here it is: Thank you, Aaron. Thank you. For everything. You were amazing.

However, there is another thing I need to say. A harder thing. But I must take responsibility for my actions, for both my sake and yours. You need to know. You need to know.

I am sorry, Aaron. I am sorry that you had to make that call. I am sorry that you had to witness my breakdown. I am sorry that I had to leave like that. I am sorry that I broke your heart. I am sorry for all the pain and hardship I’ve put you through. I am sorry for all the times I’ve lashed out at you, when really I wanted to lash out at my life. I am sorry for all the times I hurt you, when really I wanted to hurt myself. I am sorry that you had to watch me fall like that. I am sorry that you had to pick up the pieces alone, that you had to get back up alone. I am sorry for all the times I’ve said cruel things just to be mean and to hurt you, for all the grief I’ve caused you, all of it. This is my official, explicit, conscious and honest apology to you. I’m apologizing for all the wrongs I’ve done you, because it was my fault and you didn’t deserve any of it. I take full responsibility. And I am not expecting forgiveness in return. This is a no-strings-attached apology. I could apologize to you forever and still not be worthy of your forgiveness. So I won’t be waiting for it. I won’t be begging for it. This is all yours. I’m sorry, Aaron. I need you to know that. Because I know you think you deserve what happened, because I know you think it was all your fault. It wasn’t. It was mine. It is still mine. And know that I am not only apologizing in words. I will try everything in my power to make it up to you. Whatever it takes. I promise you that, Aaron.

Love,

Katelyn

as Betsy folded the letter, Aaron’s tears dripped down on the office carpet

Andrew was silent, eyes fixed on the piece of paper

Betsy waited a few minutes to let everyone soak in the moment

Bee: This is a very beautiful and heartfelt letter, Aaron. From what I understand, you and Katelyn have been writing letters since she “moved”?

Aaron nodded, still silently crying in his hands

Bee: Are your exchanges always like this?

Aaron shook his head

Bee: Okay, I see. Is this the first time a letter from her has made you cry?

another nod from Aaron

Bee: And why do you think that is?

Aaron: I don’t know…

his voice was rough from crying

Bee: Well, I think I might have an inkling, you tell me if it resonates with you. I believe, Aaron, that this is the first time someone has ever formally apologized to you, yeah? You are not someone that has grown up with that kind of care, that kind of responsibility. That kind of praise. I think you know that this is some kind of opportunity for closure, of course, but it goes deeper than that, doesn’t it? Someone cares for the wrongs they’ve done, for the hurt they’ve caused you. And you are not used to that. You are not used to being apologized to. You are not used to this type of kindness. Katelyn did not have to apologize and express her gratefulness. You didn’t expect her to. But she did. That means something to you, yeah?

Aaron’s heart broke a little more at that, before mending a little, too

he cried harder

and Andrew was watching all of this from his seat, seemingly unconcerned

he knew this wasn’t necessarily about him, that this was about Katelyn, and Aaron, and about showing Andrew that she didn’t deserve his hatred and his knives

but he did care

after he drove Aaron back to the dorms and told Kevin to watch his brother, he went for a drive

to think

he only came back once he had thought of something to do with Aaron

damn Josten for softening him

he threw Neil and Nicky out of their dorm, and went to retrieve the Stitch onesie from the back of his closet

he looked for the brand tag, looked it up online and made his purchase

he even paid for accelerated shipping

the day his order arrived, he went to the same convenience store where he’d found his precious DVD, and bought a stupid ugly postcard with a lighthouse on it

in a very neat handwriting, Andrew wrote what he had to say

he then went looking for his brother, but he didn’t have to look far

since that session with Bee, where Kevin was, Aaron usually was too

and Kevin was always at the court

but Andrew found them both sitting on the court’s floor, all geared up, yet watching something non Exy-related on Kevin’s phone

weird

that didn’t stop Andrew

he went back to the locker room, refusing to disturb the weird little thing that was going on there

he left the package and the postcard in Aaron’s locker, and left

a few hours later, as Kevin went to shower and Aaron opened his locker, Andrew’s gift was found

the postcard had slipped to the back of the locker, so Aaron retrieved the plastic bag and opened it first

he didn’t understand

it was a big, fluffy thing, bright yellow

what the fuck

it’s Pikachu

it’s a Pikachu onesie

it’s a fucking Pikachu onesie

what the fuck

he hadn’t thought about Pokemons since… well, since Tilda died

he had collected them, the cards, and the figurines

but he’d sold the toys for drug money

and he’d lost all his cards in the… accident

he’d left his three hundred-something card collection in the car, for some reason he couldn’t remember

but the crash had burnt and bloodied them all

when Nicky had adopted the twins, he had bought Aaron some new ones, but it didn’t compare… it couldn’t replace what he had lost

and now he was holding an adult-sized Pikachu one-piece pajama

he still couldn’t wrap his head around it when he found the postcard peeking from the back of his locker

he took it, his hand trembling terribly

he read the back

later, Kevin found Aaron sitting on the bench, still in his Exy uniform, smiling but crying

He’s so fucking stupid, Kevin, look at this shit

Kevin looked, indeed, at this shit

Kevin didn’t understand what he was looking at, but then Aaron handed him the postcard

Aaaron hadn’t told this story to anyone but Kevin, so he understood immediately what it said, and who wrote it

Kevin placed his big hand on the back of Aaron’s neck and squeezed a bit, an offer of comfort

he still didn’t understand what the yellow monstrosity was supposed to be, but he understood what it all meant

Aaron held the card closer to his heart than the onesie

everytime things became hard with Andrew, he wore Pikachu and he looked at the postcard

he focused on the little lighthouse, on the small, precise letters, on the ink of the pen

he focused on the words

Sorry I trashed your Pokemon cards

[harryspet]

plaything | sebastian stan

[Warnings] dark sebastian stan x reader, dark chris evans x reader, lots of dub con bordering on non con, spanking (aftercare?), dub con sex/oral sex, humiliation, seb wants you to call him daddy, impregnation, over/stimulation, abusive relationship, seb domesticating reader, manipulation, seb being a jerk and chris being creepy

A/N: This is for @sherrybaby14​ ‘s Prompt Challenge! If you’re not already following her, please do! The original prompt was “ Bucky fic where the relationship is already well known to be dark. Maybe he views her as a plaything and likes to do things that set her up for failure so that he can punish her. Maybe some gas/lighting too”. I’ve been watching a lot of Sebastian interviews lately so this fic was inspired by that. I know both Sebastian and Chris a super nice guys in real life but I had a lot of fun imagining them as bad guys! 

In which you can’t seem to escape Sebastian’s punishments.

Please like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.1k

You watched Sebastian on the TV in your kitchen, licking a spoon covered in fudge batter. He was being interviewed by Jimmy Kimmel and he was as captivating as ever. You chuckled a bit as he made a joke and the crowd erupted in laughter. 

“Y/N, it’s not lady-like to lick the spoon,” Delilah, Sebastian’s chef, said to you. You were in the middle of yet another cooking lesson. You just could never get your food tasting the way Seb liked, “At this rate, I don’t think I’ll be getting fired anytime soon.”

The dessert was in the oven and now the older woman was placing the finishing garnishes on their steak, “He likes his steak medium-well, remember that,” Delilah went on but you couldn’t concentrate. 

You know you should’ve paid attention but you knew deep down you’d never be a good cook. At least, not in the way Seb wanted you to be, “You don’t think he’ll notice it’s microwaved?” You asked Delilah who had previously agreed to your scamming. You’d pretend that you made what she had. 

“He shouldn’t notice because my food is delicious either way. But, it may taste a little different and you can blame that on the fact that you made it,” You nodded nervously. 

“Thank you, Delilah,” The older woman only smiled as she began to gather her things. Everything was laid out and now you could put everything in Tupperware and microwave it tomorrow before Seb arrived. 

You put your oven mitts on and walked over to the oven. You lifted the pan of brownies out of the oven and set it on the stove. The interview on the TV was ending now and you watched as Jimmy told the audience the opening date for Seb’s new movie. 

Seb hadn’t been back to your million dollar apartment in two weeks because he was doing press all day and night.

You almost didn’t hear Delilah say from the foyer, “Mr. Stan, you’re home early,” Your heart dropped. 

“Delilah,” You were sure they were hugging now, “I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you for a while. You look as beautiful as ever.”

You quickly put away all the spices and cutting boards, just throwing them in a random cabinet. And then the plates of food … you stacked them and threw them into the garbage can. You panicked, he couldn’t know that Delilah had made the food after you promised you’d do better. 

“Well … I- oh look, my husband is calling me,” Delilah rushed out, “Have a good evening, Mr. Stan!”

When Sebastian entered the kitchen, you were smiling wide, a dash of flour on your cheek and apron that you had just put there, “I thought you were going to be in L.A. for the rest of the night,” You said to him, kissing his cheek as he approached you. He didn’t return the affection, his eyes tired from his flight. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, “I just watched you on TV … you did great.”

“I finished up earlier than I thought. I wanted to see you,” He looked down at you, his eyes burning holes into you. He knew something was up. 

“You look exhausted but I know what will wake you up. Your favorite midnight brownies! Because, you know, we usually eat them at midnight-” He took one look at the brownies and turned back to you.

“Why was Delilah here?” He interrupted, reaching a hand to wipe away the flour on your cheek.

Your smile fell, “S-She came to give me the recipe for the brownies,” He didn’t believe it and you bit down nervously on your bottom lip nervously, “I asked Delilah to make dinner and I was gonna pretend that I had made it myself.”

Seb sighed, a smirk tugging at his lips, “And where’s dinner now?”

You pointed towards the trash can, “And you wasted the food too?”

“I panicked,” You tried to explain yourself, “But I’m gonna make dinner for real tomorrow. I watched Delilah do everything so-”

You yelped as he suddenly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. His breath fanned over your face and then he leaned down to your ear, “You haven’t cleaned either, there’s dust on the painting in the foyer.”

“I-I was going to do it tomorrow before you got home,” You whispered, your heart pounding. 

“Do I ask for too much, Y/N? I’m not sure why you like frustrating me.”

“I-I don’t like frustrating you, Seb.”

“You do,” He insisted, “Why else would you throw schemes like this together?”

“I-” He shushed you and you swallowed your words. The look in his eyes was crazy and you weren’t sure what kind of beast you had awoken this time. You tried to remember a time when things weren’t like this. When he chased you and you thought you might be more than his plaything. 

+

You met Sebastian at one of his interviews. Of course, you didn’t expect him to spare you a second glance because he was the celebrity and you were the girl running to get everyone's coffee. You were practically an assistant to the assistants. You only did the job because it paid slightly more than minimum wage and you were late on your rent. 

You carried three different trays of coffee into the dressing room. It was a smaller production company then he was probably used to. There were at least three other Avengers in the room getting their makeup touched up. You handed the coffees to each of their assistants and then to your boss. 

You would’ve walked away but you saw him take a sip, his eyes still narrowed on you, “This is four sugars …” 

“Yes,” You said quickly, looking over the receipt. Your face visibly fell as you read it, “Well, it’s three but I can find you some sugar, sir. It’ll only take a moment.”

“You can’t seem to get anything right on the first try, can you? I order this drink a million times a week. The other coffee girls can get it right. Why can’t you?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“You’re right because you’re-” You closed your eyes and waited for him to say you were fired. A tall figure emerged behind you and you slowly opened your eyes. 

“I’m sure one sugar isn’t the end of the world, sir,” Seb had said, a hand pressed to your lower back, “If you’re going to treat your staff so poorly, in front of everyone I have to had, then maybe Marvel shouldn’t be giving you their business.”

Your boss was practically jumping out of his skin, “I-I apologize, Mr. Stan,” 

As your boss scurried off like a mouse, he stepped in front of you, “I’m Sebastian.”

+

“I work such long hours, I have to fly around the world, but I take care of you, don’t I?” You nodded vigorously, “I just … don’t like to be lied to. You know what this means, don’t you, pet?”

Pet.

He loved to call you that when his temper got the best of him. Yes, of course, you knew, “Sebastian, not tonight, please-” 

He forced you to look into his eyes, “But I know you like it, Y/N,” With his other hand he gripped your waist, pulling up your skirt. You never seemed to avoid it. There was always something you did wrong that led to this. 

He pressed his lips to yours and you were surprised how gentle he was. Your lips moved in sync with each other as he pressed you against the kitchen island. He was untying your apron and it fell to the ground. Then he was reaching into your panties, easily finding how wet you were, “That’s my girl,” He smirked against your lips, starting to rub circles over your sensitive bulb. 

You ground against his fingers, wanting more friction between you. He kissed the side of your mouth, then your chin and down to your neck, “Ah,” you moaned as he played you like a piano, a song that he had spent the last year memorizing, “Seb, Seb …” 

“Call me Daddy,” He demanded and you moaned as you neared your climax. 

“Oh my god, Daddy,” You were about to tilt your head back when he suddenly removed his fingers. Not in a teasing way and your eyes widened you realized he wasn’t in a playing mood. He grabbed your hips roughly and turned you around. He pressed on your back until your chest was against the marble, “Only good girls get to cum, Y/N,” You felt him walk away and you didn’t dare look back at him, You heard a drawer open and slam shut. 

He lifted your skirt and as he pulled down your underwear, you closed your eyes shut. The impact didn’t come as you expected. You thought it stung much more than when he used his hand. You whimpered, your hands balled into a fist, “You remember what to say, don’t you, pet? I’m giving you twenty and I’m sure you don’t want any extra.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” 

He’d rub a circle and then hit your bottom with the wooden spoon again. You thanked him for each one. As the spanks increased, you squirmed around and Sebastian decided to pin your arms behind your back to hold you in place. 

When he was done, tears were streaming down your face, “Good girl, Y/N. Very good,” Sebastian let go of your wrist, gently helping you up before lifting you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you out of the kitchen. 

You cried as he set you on the bed you shared and as he rubbed aloe vera over your bruises. Sebastian held you, placing a kiss on your forehead, as you cried yourself to sleep.

+

You thought your punishment was over but as you exited the shower the next morning, you found a surprise waiting for you on the bed. A “surprise” was probably the wrong word to use. You picked up the pair of black stilettos and set them by your feet before picking up the note. 

Wear this. No panties. Finish cleaning the house and then come meet me in my office. My bookshelves need dusting. - Your one and only love, Sebastian

You balled up the note, tossing it to the side, as you took a deep breath. You decided that he wasn’t going to break you down this time. You dressed in the black, satin, mini dress and your mouth dropped open as you realized it ended an inch after your bottom. The top was basically a corset that pushes your chest up and the clear straps that held them up were flimsy. A matching white apron accompanied everything but even that seemed to be mini-sized. You could barely get on the heels without your whole bottom showing. 

You gritted your teeth, pacing the room, as you tried to get used to the heels. You reminded yourself again that you’d do this with a smile on your face. You pulled your hair back with a tie and left the master bedroom. 

You cleaned almost the entire house with those heels on. Your feet ached and every random draft of wind sent you shivering. If you moved in a certain way, you could feel the satin rubbing against the bruises on your bottom, a reminder of the punishment you suffered the day before. 

You wiped a drop of sweat from your forehead as you finished wiping down the kitchen counters. After you carried the duster to Seb’s office and as you knocked you heard, “Come in, pet,” And you spotted Seb leaning against the front of his desk. 

His eyes were dark and as you met Captain America’s blue-green eyes, your heart dropped to your stomach, “Seb-”

“You know Chris, right, Y/N? You met at that wedding a few months ago?” Sebastian asked, gesturing over the muscular man perched on Seb’s leather couch. 

You remained silent, not wanting to meet the other man’s eyes. You shifted uncomfortably in your dress, pulling at the sides, “Y/N looked very different then … but I have to say that I prefer this look much more,” You could feel his eyes taking in your body. 

You had promised yourself you’d get through this unscathed but you hadn’t planned for this. You wanted to die of embarrassment and it was only as Seb said, “Don’t mind us, pet. We’re just talking business. You have a job to do.”

Your mouth was dry and you felt frozen, “Sebastian, please-”

You cut yourself off because the glare he gave you was deadly. It took you a moment to get the courage to take a step. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you paced over the tall bookshelves that were placed opposite the couch Chris Evans was sitting on. 

You began to dust his collection of books and you cursed the fact that man loved reading about space so much.

Both of their eyes were raked in your body. They muttered a few sentences talking about some director but you knew they were just trying to fill the air. Their focus was you and only you. 

You reached the lower levels but as you had to reach the top one, your dress rode up. You quickly pulled it down but it happened a few more times, “I don’t think you’ll do a very good job if you’re pulling at your dress the whole time, pet,” You almost shot an accusing glance towards him. 

Instead, you stopped holding onto your dress before politely saying, “I don’t think I’m tall enough to reach the top shelves,” You spoke through gritted teeth. 

Seb glared at you sharply but Chris only smirked, “You might’ve hit the lottery with this one, Stan.”

In any other context, you might’ve appreciated the compliment. 

“The coffee table is a little dusty too,” Sebastian lied and you tried to scowl. You walked over to the coffee table, bending down to dust the table. You were close to Chris now and you saw him lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” Chris had told you and you did, keeping eye contact as you dusted all the knick-knacks that Seb kept on the coffee table. Yours were on him but he was trailing down to your chest. You guessed he had seen enough of your bottom while you were dusting. 

You stood up straight then looked at Seb, “Did he tell you to stop looking at him?” And you winced as you turned your head back to Chris. 

Seb moved behind you but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Chris. Seb pressed himself against your back, lifted up the skirt of your mini dress. He roughly stuck his fingers between your fold and his fingers were wet as he pulled them away. How? How could that happen when you felt sick with embarrassment. 

Your face was probably bright red by that point, “And I thought you couldn’t upset me further. Now you’re getting turned on by another man. Right in front of me, I should add.”

“S-Seb I-I-” He grabbed you by the front of your neck, pulling you further into him, “I-I’m not, I promise!”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You love the attention. Does Daddy not give you enough?” He spoke huskily into your ear, “Now you have to show Daddy’s friend who you belong to. Bend over, hands on the table.”

As you bent over, you couldn’t help but wonder how things had become so drastically different. You placed your hands flat on the table and it wasn’t long before you heard Sebastian’s belt come off. You thought he might spank you at first but you felt the hard tip of his length press against your entrance. 

He grabbed your hair, forcing you to tilt your head up and look at Chris. He was leaning back now, his hand over his crotch. You could see the hard on beginning to form underneath his jeans, “Only Daddy gets this hole, understand?” And before you could answer, he entered you all the way. 

You gasped, unable to find the words as you screamed out. “Right, pet?” He slammed into you deeply.

You nodded, “Y-Yes, Daddy. Only you.” Seb pounded into you, animalistic growls in his throat as you squeezed around him. 

Soon, you had both fallen to your knees but he only went harder, “Seb, Seb!” You moaned his name, already nearing your climax. The angle you were at let him hit your most sensitive area with every thrust. And as he bent over your body, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bulb, it wasn’t long before that wave of pleasure ripped through you. 

Your body shook and you tried to run away from the full force of it, Sebastian pulled you back onto him. He wasn’t done yet. Chris had pulled his hard member from his jeans and was stroking it as he watched you react to the over/stimulation. Seb had even pulled down your dress so your breasts were fully out. 

Seb didn’t let up on stroking you and, as your second climax came, you thought you might fall apart. “You like it when he watches, don’t you?” Seb groaned in your ear, “You want him to see me put a baby in you.” Seb’s stroke slowed but they were still deep as his song neared its crescendo. 

Seb knew that you were in the middle of switching your birth control methods. 

“Beg me to put a baby into you,” He said, pulling your hair tighter. 

“Ah,” you moaned, “Please give me a baby, Daddy! Please!”

With that, Seb’s hips tightened as he released into you. You felt the warmth deep inside you and you were still shaking as he pulled out, “Good girl,” He said, out of breath. 

You looked at Chris who was thrusting into his own hand. Seb smacked your bottom loudly, “Finish him off, Y/N,” You turned to Seb with wide eyes. As if he hadn’t humiliated you enough. He hit your bottom again, “Now.”

You hesitated before crawling around the table. You felt your own fluids and Seb’s running down your leg. You perched yourself between the older man’s legs and he responded by grabbing your face, pulling you up to his member. 

You closed your eyes as you took him into your mouth. Chris groaned, leaning back as you took him in deeper. You remembered how Seb liked it. Whatever your mouth couldn’t cover, you used hand, twisting around his length, “That’s it, such a good girl,” You gagged as you took him in further. Sebastian loved when you gagged and now you knew Chris did too. As Chris finished, he forced your head down, and you thought you might run out of air as he released into your throat. 

You fell back, gasping after you were forced to swallow it all, “I think I’m going to come to New York more often,” Chris gave you a tired smile.  

You looked to Sebastian who was already up, buttoning his slacks, “Straighten yourself up, Y/N, don’t be rude to our guest.”

+

Hope you enjoyed! Check out my dark peter parker fics and my new Bucky fic called Obedience!