#the fact that he can only verbalize some things if it's part of a con

[litnerdwrites]

About the dancing chapter...

I agree 100% with this comment by the amazing @deathbealady (no seriously, I didn't even realise how similar this situation was to Mor's) and I wanted to use it as a jumping off point to talk about Eris Vansera. To be clear though, I like fanon Eris and am currently undecided about canon Eris, for reasons I'll explain later.

For now, we can start with the IC asking Nesta to try and seduce Eris. I refuse to believe they weren't given this idea by Elain, either because she volunteered Nesta outright, or because she put the idea of using Nesta's artistic passions that, at this point, they know were effectively weaponised by her mother, to seduce an older male with the idea of marriage.

Either way, the fact that the IC knew what Nesta's mother had done, and decided to take advantage of it without ever asking what she thought of it, or what she might like, despite it being the same thing done to Mor when she was Nesta's age, if not younger. It's made especially worse given that Nesta likely feels unable say 'no' to the IC, because if she does, she'd likely be threatened with Elain being made to do it.

If that isn't bad enough, and I wouldn't be sure if it could get worse if I wasn't about to tell you why, then we can take a look at the age gap between Eris and Nesta. I've heard people argue that it's fine, since they're both consenting adults, but I think that the term 'adults' needs to be redefined. Humans are considered adults at the age of 18 or so, but only have a fully developed frontal love at 25. Meanwhile, fae are considered adults by the age of about 50 to 80 (with the latter being the age that a High Lord can be named such, but some people say it's 50). This has some pretty serious implications.

Starting with the fact that if females in Illyria and the CON are married off/wings clipped when they have their first period, which seems to be from around the same time human women have theirs, to 18 if they try to prevent it through medication, then they aren't adults themselves. They aren't even half way there in the (I don't want to say mild, best case, better or anything like that case because it's all messed up) cases where the woman is 18 or so. It also implies that a fae female's frontal lobe isn't developed until she's over fifty, since we don't have evidence to suggest the contrary.

Just because Nesta was almost 25 when she became fae doesn't make it alright either. Given that her aging must have slowed astronomically when she was turned, it's fair to assume it would have a huge impact on maturity and brain development. Which means the Archeron sister's in general might have serious gaps in the way their brains develop, especially Feyre, since she was resurrected and her body changed. It might even be slightly different for Nesta and Elain since they were killed, pulled apart and put back together in the cauldron.

Since it was the cauldron, there's a chance that their brains were also changed to be like fae, but either way, both possibilities and scenarios come back to the same answer: The Archeron Sisters are still mentally children, and will likely remain so for several decades longer, perhaps even longer than regular fae due to the unprecedented and irregular nature of their existence.

This brings me back to the subject of Nesta and Eris. He is a grown adult many centuries older than Nesta, with frontal lobe development and centuries of experience. Nesta is barely even half way to being an adult, while he is over 500. Moreover, the IC believe that Eris is a monster.

Now, I'm well aware that there's likely more to the issues between Eris and Mor than what we've seen. Between Eris's own words regarding 'circumstances' that he wouldn't explain, to the narrative going out of his way to show us good parts of him. Such as the way he moved to protect his mother at the HL meeting, and how he let his own father torture him but still protected the IC's secrets and took the unnecessary verbal abuse from Cassian. There's even the fact that Eris simply lets others believe him to be the villain, and let's Mor control the narrative for her own comfort, as opposed to spilling whatever happened, even if it would, somehow, absolve him.

Now, to be perfectly clear, there is little Eris could say that would absolve him, truly, of what happened. I acknowledge that he's a victim of his father, however that doesn't mean he can't also be Morrigan's abuser. And yes, even if he didn't touch her, neglect is abuse. Leaving her there for dead, regardless of the reasons, is a messed up thing to do. The categories of victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive.

The narrative wants us, as readers, to question Eri's actions and begin to wonder what happened between him and Lucien and Mor. It wants us to open up to the idea that Eris may not be as bad as he's made out to be, and that there's something more sinister happening, since it puts some level of suspicion on Lucien, Mor and Beron. However, just because that's the story we're being fed as readers, doesn't mean that the characters have the same perspective, or are living the same story, necessarily.

If you think about it, they have no reason to believe that Eris isn't a psycho who abuses woman and would slaughter his brothers to get to the crown. His comment about circumstances does read like an abuser trying to justify his actions with little effort, while giving no real reason, not that one would make up for what the IC believes he did. It's not a good enough reason to absolve him or make him seem like a good person.

He still hunted Feyre down, even though he had no reason to once she and Lucien made it to the Winter Court, and it, logically, would've caused more trouble for Beron if they were caught. Especially since a whole fire fight took place, and it would be easy for Kallias to connect that with autumn citizens, since he didn't know about Feyre's magic. If anything, hunting them at that point would've caused more problems and they'd be better off just telling Beron that Feyre and Lucien were there. A high lady, if Beron acknowledges the title or not, trespassing in foreign lands with a banished son would be enough to raise a fuss about.

He, also, has people who've known him for centuries, from Mor to Lucien (though the latter probably has more accurate info given his connections in various courts, and the fact it's unlikely Mor shared many words with him over 5 centuries) and the fact he's essentially blackmailing the Nc. This is more so an issue of his having certain pieces of information being a cause for the IC to fear what he may do with it, or what might be found out by their enemies if they use torture or a daemati.

I'm not saying, by any means, that I hate him. I think he's actually written better than Rhysand at this point, since unlike Rhysie playing hero, Eris knows he's a terrible person and low key owns it. Whether or not that's subject to change is dependant of SJM's writing in the future. There's a chance she may actually turn him into Rhys 2.0 by pretended he was a good guy all along.

However, regardless of his reasons, he has done so many atrocious things that the IC have no reason to think he's a descent person. Mor clearly hasn't said anything about what happened and, as much as I don't like her, she has no on page motive to antagonise Eris otherwise. That might change later, especially if she's the traitor, but as of now, her behaviour seems understandable, somewhat, based on the version of events that she gives.

Yet, despite all of this, the IC still think that essentially whoring Nesta out to Eris because it suits their goals. Regardless of the risks to Nesta's safety, regardless of how Nesta feels about the matter and and simply going off of Feyre's guesses about how Nesta feels without ever feeling the need to confirm if any of them are accurate to Nesta.

Let me summarise: Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta's own sister, thought it was a good idea to use Nesta's artistic passions to seduce a man that is literally 20 times Nesta's age, letting said man ask for Nesta's hand, and letting Nesta consider accepting despite the IC believing he is a woman torturing psycho that would throw her to the wolves at the first chance if it helped him in the end.

Let's not forget that while Eris may be bit of a grey area for us at the moment, the IC knows that Eris also lives with abusers, like Beron, who'd have no issue using physical violence against Nesta. So even if they thought Eris wasn't a monster for some reason, they'd still be putting Nesta in danger. Especially if Beron is working with the Death God, who wants the trove and is using Bryallin to find it.

Oh, and this was all after Cassian came to the conclusion that Nesta was suicidal, and was sexually assaulted in a vision, if I remember right, while on a life threatening mission in a place the rest of the IC, even Amren, is scared of.

Regardless of what Rhysand says, he allows abusers near enough to his family, or the ones he doesn't care as much about, I suppose, and is seemingly willing to let them marry said abusers if it gets him his goal. Rhysand who was abused. Rhysand who's mother was forced into child marriage.

Rhysand who seems to ignore the fact that the Archeron sisters are children. Children can't consent, if it wasn't clear enough to him already. Also, consent must be informed, and last I checked, Nesta wasn't informed about Eris beyond him being a snake. She isn't given a heads up about how abusive he's believed to be, how he may have to kill/watch you die if his dad decides so, or how he's likely to leave you bleeding out in the woods if you're injured. This is literally what the IC believe he is like and they didn't tell her.

Consent needs to be voluntary. I think it's been well established that Nesta likely doesn't feel like she can make real decisions because of consequences she may face.

He's also completely willing to send a suicidal (you can't argue that he doesn't know since Cassian reports everything to Rhysand, and kind of Feyre, apparently, from her Valkyries to her progress in 'healing'/being brainwashed so there's no reason he wouldn't report that too) into life threatening situations, put them in a place where they could jump to their deaths at any moment, with magic that could provide literally anything but alcohol, and filled with weapons.

To conclude, Eris is a grey area in ACOTAR that, at this point, reads as what Rhysand kind of should've been if SJM didn't make him a good guy for no reason. Meanwhile, this 'good guy' is endangering his sister in law through abuse, emotional blackmail and brainwashing, while putting her in proximity with a known abuser. Might I remind you that she's a minor? With possible developmental gaps. And he's doing it all because her being in danger makes his life easier, and the cousin that the dude abused is going along with this without any issue.

[unhappy-last-resort]

I like many things in this world, some of those being vampires, specifically yandere vampires. So obviously, I find the idea of yandere vampire Chrome to be absolutely scrumptious. Another semi-long drabble ahead.

Warnings: Blood, biting, drugging, implied non-con, yandere

Constructs already have most of their senses enhanced, but Chrome finds his Nosferatu coating to be especially so. His hearing is enhanced greatly, to the point that he can hear your heart beat if you're in the room.

That's not all though, his taste and smell are more sensitive as well. He especially noticed this little detail when you accidentally cut yourself on some equipment. That was practically torture, not only could he smell your blood, he could smell it so clearly he could taste it on his tongue and it drove him mad.

So much so, that he immediately tended to your wound without even asking beforehand. Not to rid himself of the smell, the smell of your blood, but so he could swipe his thumb over your cut a few times before disinfecting it.

This, however, ended up being a terrible mistake on Chrome's part because the second he was able to steal a few moments for himself to taste your blood he was shaking. An almost painful urge to find you and drink more of that sweet nectar flowing in your veins had him on his knees, grasping at his chest as it felt like sweat must've been dripping down his forehead even though there was none as he fought off images of himself tearing into you like a rabid animal.

That day, Chrome decided to take his first day off in a long, long time. So long in fact that he can't remember the last time he had nothing to do.

Gray Raven and Strike Hawk, on hearing Chrome's request and seeing the...less than stellar state he was in, insisted on taking all of his workload for the day. It was a miracle he managed to convince them not to immediately call Asimov or Star of Life.

He still felt bad about suddenly leaving the mission right before it started when you were depending on him being there, even though Wanshi stepped in and you said it was fine, he wanted to do something to apologize.

So, he made you a very innocent raspberry chocolate cake and gently knocked on your dorm room that night, although he found himself in another strange predicament. Chrome's always known he was very respectful of peoples boundaries ignoring how he placed a camera you still haven't found yet in your room, but this was different.

He couldn't enter your room, he physically couldn't until you verbally invited him in. Once inside though, how he didn't lose himself right there when your scent was all that filled his artificial nostrils he'll never know.

After that though, everything went according to plan. You talked while you ate your perfectly innocent cake and when you started to feel a little sleepy, Chrome did what any good friend would do and carried you to your bed. He even helped you slip out of that uncomfortable uniform of yours and helped you wash your face and brush your teeth.

Do you know how cute you sound when you protest, but you're so tired you can barely keep your eyes open? Well, Chrome knows. He knows it very well because he all but memorized it as he bit into your inner thigh, your blood bursting into his mouth and overtaking his senses as he kept a bruising grip on your hip to keep you from squirming more than was desirable.

Your little whimpers, kicks, and slurred protests fell on deaf ears. It wouldn't be too long before you fell asleep anyways.

Just let him have his fun for tonight, you won't remember it by tomorrow so just let him have this, won't you?

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

I'd Like to Adopt These Side Characters, Please (And Also Make One Arbitrarily To Appease The Vibes)

So, I've already mentioned my plans to write something for our dear single-minute-of-screentime-boys from the FNAF movie. And, as per usual for me, posting some headcanons will help the ideas flow for that WIP. . .

___

Jack Samar

His passengers always are, in fact, "the weirdos." It just seems to happen without fail. College partygoers crashing down from adrenaline (among other things) highs, random drifters that could all probably be in the same cult if you pay attention to detail, that one guy who's all too happy to take advantage of the open secret that the ducks in the park are free. . .Most of the time, it's nothing too serious. But he's still got some very interesting stories here and there.

He's one of the best drivers in town. And that's not just due to his job as a cabbie; he knows how dangerous driving can be, so he takes pride in making sure his skills are sharp. (Seriously, if you've ever driven a car, then you know it's practically a miracle to see someone else on the road who actually knows what they're doing.)

He has a steel-trap memory; he knows every part of town like the back of his hand. Constantly driving on various routes just has that effect on you.

He's a bit of a rescuer. As in, if he happens to see a stray animal while driving, then he'll park, coax said animal into the car, and then drop it off at at the local shelter. If you have him drive you from Point A to Point B, there's a good chance you'll spot a scruffy-looking cat or dog riding shotgun.

If he isn't too tired at the end of his shifts, he'll drive over to Sparky's for a late-night snack before heading home to rest. Both he and Ness are good listeners, so a decent chunk their banter is dedicated to venting about sucky patrons.

He's certainly aware of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria, as well as the rumors surrounding it, but he never really bothered with the place. And he doesn't plan to start bothering with it after seeing Golden Freddy in the back of his taxi.

Although. . .well, that occurrence might have made him start weighing the pros and cons of trying to get more information out of Mason. (He's very much hesitant about it, of course. Yeah, he was the one to help Mason out, but the assumption of Mason's experience with Freddy's is still far from pleasant.)

(Yes, his name is a pun inspired by Cory's samurai joke. What did you expect from me?)

___

Ness Aeoruhndbt-Ultendera

"Ness" is only his nickname, but he doesn't plan on revealing his full name anytime soon. Not even to his friends, for whatever reason. There's also a bit of an inside joke about how his surname is too long to actually fit on his nametag. (Yes, that gibberish my personal idea for his surname. I spent way more time working on it than I probably should have because I was determined to make a weird/funny reference, so leave me alone, okay?!)

He's been in the restaurant business ever since he was a kid; he's worked in several different joints before Sparky's. Coming from a family of foodies, he truly enjoys what he does, no matter how small-scale. Sure, some days are worse than others, but that's just life.

Similarly to Jack, it's not that uncommon for him to serve some strange characters. (Hell, sometimes the strange characters in question will wave down Jack's cab right after they've finished their meal at Sparky's.) Nothing usually comes of it, but he's still more than observant enough to pick up on certain oddities.

He makes a genuine effort to be polite and outgoing with customers. But make no mistake, he absolutely can, has, and will verbally curb-stomp someone if they push him or his coworkers too far. (Aunt Jane was lucky that her jab was minor. Plus, Ness just had other customers to focus on.)

It's no surprise that he LOVES conspiracy theories. Now, he knows which crackpot rabbit-holes to avoid, but he's still the type to listen to true crime podcasts almost religiously. In a way, researching and brainstorming is a comfort to him.

He's actually developed legitimate friendships with a specific few of Sparky's regulars. (Jack and Mason are part of this camp.) In fact, if there aren't many other customers that need tending to, he'll sit down and chat with them while they eat.

While he's perky during the day, he's still a night owl. It helps that his regular-friends almost always stop by in the late hours. (This has also paved the way for him to become a bit of a coffee-addict, but not to the point of concern. Speaking of which: he takes great joy in people's reactions to his argument that coffee is actually a type of soup.)

Oh, and that rubber-chicken-head-pencil-topper? Its name is Fabio, and Ness has been carrying it for several years now. He can't remember where/when/how he came into possession of Fabio, but you can pry it from his cold, dead hands.

___

Mason Kingsley

I wasn't originally planning to make a technical fanego for the FNAF movie. But after I learned that Mark was intended to make a cameo, I was intrigued. Thus, Mason—aka Trauma Boi—was born. His inclusion here (and in that future story I mentioned) is basically just a "What if?" scenario. As in, A. What if Mark had actually played the role of that first nightguard in the movie, and B. what if he'd actually survived his ordeal at Freddy's. . .?

Please read "survived," as "escaped by the skin of his teeth with grievous injuries and is now sort of dead inside."

Fittingly enough, Jack happened to by passing by when Mason fled the restaurant. It's pretty damn easy to stop for a guy who's covered in blood and cradling a broken arm and screaming for help.

After Jack drove Mason to the hospital, the two of them made an effort to stay in touch. Their respective patronage to Sparky's helps out with that.

Time passed, as it tends to do, and Mason eventually recovered. Keep in mind that the recovery was physical; he's still having night-terrors about animatronic monsters. Just the mention of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria will make him start shaking and murmuring under his breath, pale and tense.

He absolutely refuses to talk about the incident in detail, but it left some very obvious scars on his neck, chest, and arms. He's constantly trying to keep said scars covered.

Silver lining: shortly after recovering, Mason was able to adopt a therapy pet. Enter Checkers, a golden retriever who's just the best emotionally-tuned girl and is always by his side.

He stops by Sparky's for dinner once or twice per week. He wasn't too receptive to Ness' chitchat at first, but by now they have a solid friendship. (It started when Ness "accidentally" brought out a large side of bacon with Mason's order. Checkers most certainly appreciated that, so it's become a small tradition between them.)

(And just to clarify, because I KNOW someone is gonna read this and take it the wrong way: I'm NOT using this to try and whine about Mark's absence in the movie. It's really not too hard to understand that his own Iron Lung project has kept him INCREDIBLY BUSY. It's an amazing accomplishment for him, so of course it should take priority over a cameo in FNAF.)

___

@sammys-magical-au @that-bat @bee-the-matpat-simp @insane4fandoms

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Werewolf Baekhyun) 3.3k, A/B/O, fighting, verbal abuse, drinking, intoxication, tipsy behavior, kidnapping, drugs, restraints, pheromones, smut, non-con, dub-con, biting, blood, marking, intimidation, implied pregnancy, yandere (@starillusion13)

“You’re an omega, and you’re mine.”

     You wanted to slap Baekhyun, you tried, but he grabbed your hand. When you tried to pull away he held on tighter, and you threw a sharp glare his way. You two had been friends for as long as you could remember, basically growing up together, but as of late he had changed. He always seemed to have an attitude around you, especially when others were around. You chalked it up to the fact he finally presented, and turned out to be an alpha. You were happy for him, but you also understood that came with its own burden. So you let some things slide, but this was where you drew the line. You were out with friends, and as the night dragged on he started getting handsy with you. Throughout all those years you had never seen him as anything more than a friend, so you stopped him, which only pissed him off.

“What is wrong with you!”

“I am telling you the truth!”

“My birthday is still months away, and I haven’t presented yet! I’m not an omega, let alone yours.”

“You are! I can tell.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know. You’re an omega.”

“I am not! My family mostly consists of alphas and betas. There hasn’t been an omega in generations and it’s not gonna be me!”

“Y/n-”

“Shut up!” You pulled your arm free. “I have had enough of your attitude, and this stupid idea in your head finally puts it into perspective. I’m not some lowly omega that needs protection from an alpha! And I don’t belong to you either!”

“Listen to me, I-”

“No! I’m not tolerating your bullshit anymore.” You took a breath. “I’m sure being an alpha has its own things to figure out, so you do that, and let me know when you stop being a dick.”

     You walked off without a word, swearing you’d hit him if he tried anything, but he knew better this time. You never thought you’d fight with him, he was always a good friend to you, but this was something else. You wanted to be understanding, but you needed to do what was best for you as well. You didn’t hear from him for weeks, which really worried you, but you weren’t going to reach out to check on him. This was something he needed to figure out on his own. You weren’t sure when you’d hear from him, but a week leading up to your birthday you got a call from him. You were nervous to answer, but you owed him that much.

“Hello?”

“Hey… how’ve you been?”

“Fine for the most part, and you?”

“Me too. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I owe you an apology.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I should do it in person. Are you free anytime soon?”

“I have some time tomorrow.”

“After your classes?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Sure.” 

     All this time you felt like you had been holding your breath, that after all these years you had lost a close friend. Hearing his voice again was a relief, especially since it seemed he had gotten his senses back. Still, you’d have to wait and see if anything had really become of him. So the next day you kinda dreaded your last class, dreaded seeing him for fear things couldn’t go back to the way they were. You had to see him eventually though, so it was better to do it now and rip off the band aid. After class you found Baekhyun waiting for you. He offered you a quick smile but saw your expressionless face and dropped it. He followed you as you went off somewhere so you two could talk in private.

“Did your classes go well today?”

“Same old, same old. How have you been?”

“Good. I’ve done a lot of thinking lately… I can’t excuse my actions, only apologize for them.”

“Yeah.”

“I was a dick, I don’t even know what was going on in my own head. A lot changed for me, and I couldn’t keep myself in check. I’m really sorry you had to witness such a part of me, and I’ll do better to make sure you never do.”

“Is that it?”

“I mean, no amount of words can change what I did, but I’m hoping we can get over this hurdle together, or at least start over.”

“You were such an asshole.”

“I know…”

“And you’re done with that shit?”

“Yes. I never should have treated you that way. I don’t know what was going on with me.”

“Neither do I. Now if you ever pull that shit again, I will not forgive you.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” You took a breath. “Have you seriously been okay?”

“I’ve been doing my best, but there’s a lot going on with me.”

“How’s the family then? You being an alpha and all that. I mean, that’s most of your family anyway.”

“I’ve talked with them a lot. They’re happy I’m an alpha, but there are definitely things I need to be aware of.”

“No shit. Maybe if I’m an alpha too you can let me know.”

“Definitely.”

     Things couldn’t go back to how they used to be, but he was still your friend. Sometimes you could see him slipping back into that possessive behavior, but he composed himself well enough. He was doing better, which was the important thing. So when your birthday party rolled around you trust him to behave himself. Besides, it was your day of celebration, and you were going to enjoy yourself. So a night out at the club, endless drinks and a VIP room full of dancers, best birthday for sure.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.”

     You were dancing around, clearly already gone for the night. Some of your friends had already gone home, so only a few were left hanging on. Although at this point it was safe to say someone had to end things before you all passed out. That someone was Baekhyun, having remained mostly sober to keep an eye on himself and everyone else. Now he was getting people in cars and sending them on their way. In the end it was just the two of you out on the streets.

“Taxi!” You danced off the curb. “Taxi!”

“No, no, come here.” Baekhyun grabbed you and pulled you back onto the sidewalk. “I’m taking you home, okay?”

“Nuh-uh, you can’t drive.”

“Yes, I can. I didn’t really drink.”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t think I can with you in this state. Come on now.”

     Baekhyun carefully led you over to his car, getting you into the passenger seat and getting your seat belt on. You leaned your head against the glass, Baekhyun getting into the car and driving off.

“Did you have fun?”

“The best…” You giggled. “And you?”

“It was a good night. Get some rest, I’ll wake you when we arrive, and please don’t throw up in my car.”

“No promises…”

     You shut your eyes and let the soft rumble of the car lull you to sleep. You figured you’d be out for a little bit and get some help going inside the house, but when you woke up you felt way more hungover than you thought. You got up, needing a second to realize you were in bed, and needing another to realize this wasn’t your room. The panic sobered you up real quick, but then you recognized the room as Baekhyun’s and calmed down. Although now that made you question why you were at his place. The hangover was starting to hit again, but you managed to get on your feet and go looking for Baekhyun.

“Ya! Baekhyun.” You mumbled. “Baekhyun… why am I here…”

     You managed to find the boy in the kitchen, sat down at the counter eating breakfast. Once he saw you stumbling around he got up and helped you take a seat.

“How’d you manage to get up?”

“Panic… why am I at your place? You said you were going to take me home.”

“I did take you home, to mine that is.”

“Baekhyun.”

“I was tired and my place was closer anyway. I’ll take you home now, after you have breakfast and recover from the hangover.”

“You better.”

     Baekhyun made you a quick breakfast. He was a pretty decent cook, and it was nice to try his food. It had been a while since you last spent time together like that.

“Here. A hangover cure.” Baekhyun handed you a glass. “You’ll feel better.”

“Already do, so thanks.”

     You chugged down the contents of the drink, knowing it was better to get it over with quickly. It didn’t taste bad thankfully, but still made you shiver.

“I’ll get my things and we can go.”

“Sure.”

     You got up, stretching for a moment and then heading back over to the bedroom to grab your belongings. When you returned Baekhyun was exactly where you had left him.

“Alright, we can-”

    You suddenly felt dizzy, grabbing your head and stumbling back a few steps. Baekhyun watched you for a moment and then got up, taking you into his arms so you wouldn’t fall.

“Baekhyun… what’s going on…”

“Just a little something to help.”

    He led you back down the hall towards the bedroom, although when your legs have out he had no problem picking you up and carrying. Your vision kept fading in and out, and you were feeling hot all over. Words were becoming difficult as well, but you still tried. Baekhyun just found you cute, laying you down on the bed. Then you realized he was tying your arms down.

“… what… what are you…”

“I know you still don’t believe me, and that’s fine, but I’m still worried about you. Since you’ve come of age you can present any day now, and I didn’t like the idea of me not being there for it. So I thought I should speed up the process, and this way I’ll be here to look after you.”

“Baekhyun…”

“It should only take a couple hours, so don’t worry.”

“Let… me… go…”

“Definitely can’t do that now. Someone else might want to claim you if they find you in such a state.”

“Why… why…”

“I told you. You’re mine, and I’m not letting anyone else have you. Just try to relax.”

“Baekhyun!”

    You tugged on the ropes, but you barely had any strength left. Your head was spinning and you could barely make out Baekhyun sitting at the edge of the bed, watching you. It hurt, not just your body, but your heart. You had been worried about Baekhyun, and you desperately wanted things to go back to normal that you let him back into your life without being cautious, without letting others know what he had been saying lately. It was getting harder and harder to think, and you could feel your body shutting down to deal with the changes being forced on you. If you could fight it you would, but you didn't even know what was happening. So in the end the darkness swallowed you, and your feelings of fear with it.

🖤

     When you opened your eyes you felt so out of it, barely managing to stay conscious. Your body was shaking, and you felt very hot. You soon found out you were still tied up, and once again tried to free yourself, but it was useless.

“Baekhyun…”

     You didn’t feel so good, you felt sick, and in the moment you didn’t want to be alone. It wasn’t long before you made out Baekhyun in your field of vision. He was sitting by the edge of the bed, his palm against your head.

“You have a fever.” You whined which made him chuckle. “It’s normal to be sick when you present.”

“Huh?”

“I told you that you’re an omega, and it’s all the more obvious now.”

“No… no what… what did you… do…”

“Just helped you awaken your true nature.”

“I’m not… an omega…”

“You can’t deny that now.”

“… home… I wanna…”

“I can’t take you home like this, besides what would your family think? There hasn’t been an omega in generations.” You whimpered. “It’s okay, I’m going to take care of you. I’m sure they’ll be relieved to know that.”

“No… no… I’m not…”

“The fever will pass on its own, but I’m not sure about the other things. They say omegas are pretty delicate, which is why it’s so important to claim one.”

“… go… away…”

“But you called for your alpha earlier.”

“… you’re not…”

“I am. I’ll go get you something for the fever.”

      Once he was gone you began tossing about, wanting to get free. You focused your energy on the rope, trying to untie it, but Baekhyun soon came back and stopped you.

“Is it bothering you?”

“Um…”

“I suppose you don’t need that right now.”

     Baekhyun untied you and helped you sit up, trying to give you some medicine. You refused though, not wanting to take anything from him anymore. He pet your head softly, finding your rebellious acts cute.

“This will make the fever go down and help things settle.”

“I’m not… an omega…”

“You know that’s not true. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“No… you did something…”

“You know there’s no way to change what you are. You can hide it or suppress it, but you can’t change it.”

     You knew all that was true, but you didn’t want to believe him. It wasn’t just about his betrayal, or what he had done, but what this all meant for you. Baekhyun seemed to know what you were thinking, pulling you into his arms despite your protests. He held the back of your head, rocking you softly to the sides, trying to sooth you.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna look at you differently or anything like that. You’re still y/n to me.”

“It’s not… I can’t…”

“We don’t choose these things.”

    You didn’t know how you were gonna face your family. You weren’t sure you wanted to. This all felt more like a nightmare and you desperately wanted to wake up. If that was the case you felt you would have already woken up, but all this felt way too real. You don’t know when you started crying, but the tears weren’t going to stop easily. So you sobbed into Baekhyun’s chest, letting all your thoughts overwhelm you. That is until something else caught your attention. As you were coming down from the tears you began to notice something. 

    Baekhyun smelled very different. You carefully moved your head up into the crook of his neck, taking in a breath. You never really paid attention to the scents of your friends. You could tell them apart but you never really took them in to know them better. Although you could tell that Baekhyun’s had changed, again. When he had become an alpha you noticed the change, but this was something else entirely. He smelled sweeter, and you couldn’t help yourself, wanting to take in more. Of course Baekhyun noticed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“What is it?”

“You… you smell…”

“Nice?”

“Hm…”

“They say the scent of an alpha is sweeter to an omega, and vice versa. I certainly know that’s the case.”

“… why…”

“Cause alphas and omegas get along better. We’ve always gotten along so well, even before all this. I guess we were meant to be.”

“That’s not fair…”

“I’d call it destiny.” Baekhyun took a moment. “You’re still burning up.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should still take something to make it easier… or I could help.”

“Help?”

“I told you it’s important for an omega to get claimed. I have no problem doing that now.”

     Baekhyun pulled you back a bit, pressing a kiss to your cheek. From there his lips trailed down your neck. Despite the heat and uncomfortableness, his mouth was a sweet relief against your skin. You didn’t want him to stop, and he had no intention of doing so. He knew you were already so high off his scent alone, and in this state you were all the more sensitive. Of course you weren’t the only one being affected. Baekhyun had been holding himself together, but now that he had you so close he couldn’t help himself either. Without asking permission he began to tear up your clothes.

     At that point it was hard to keep anything straight in your head. One minute Baekhyun was kissing down your chest, the next thing you knew you were lying beneath him with less clothing. Your vision was a bit hazy but you could see Baekhyun clearly. He had always been a friend in your mind, but now you thought of something else, of something more. Everything about him was different in your eyes. Your mind taking in the little things and feeling your heart flutter. The feeling only grew more and more as your body was accepting all his attention. 

    Even if you went out clubbing with friends you had never gone home with someone, or showed interest in hookups, so this would be your first. Baekhyun would be the one to take it all, and you knew at that moment you would never give it to anyone else. Your mind was so lost in his everything you didn’t realize the fangs, not until you felt a sharp pain in the crook of your neck. Your eyes went wide and you screamed, the smell of blood hitting your nose soon after. When Baekhyun pulled away you could see his bloody mouth.

“Couldn’t help myself…”

“Baekhyun…”

“No one else can have you.”

     There was a sharpness to his tone, almost like a warning. His one and only time saying this to you, and if you ever forgot it, there would be consequences. You couldn’t comprehend on the surface, but deep down you got the message. He wasn’t done here though, far from it. Baekhyun took off his own shirt, getting rid of the rest of your clothing and his in the process. You made a move to cover yourself, feeling exposed, but he stopped you, holding your hands above your head.

“Don’t hide from me. You’re perfect just like this, and I’ll make you even better.”

🖤

     If anyone asked you to recount that night, your first, the day you were mated, you probably couldn’t tell them anything about it. There was just a mix of heat and blood and pleasure. Your body would never forget, and neither would your soul, even if your mind was completely blank. Baekhyun wouldn’t say anything either, loving to have this secret to himself and to a degree you. All you did know was waking up in his arms, feeling safe, feeling loved. Your future was still uncertain, but you were alright there and then.

“Awake?”

“Hm…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired…”

“Well the fever’s down, so I think the worst of it is over.”

“I guess…”

“Sh, take it easy.”

“I feel tingly…”

“That might be the bite.”

“Bite… yeah… you bit me…”

“You still need to bite me back.”

“Hm…”

“Better now before you find out you’re pregnant.”

“What!”

“What? You don’t remember how much we did it? If I didn’t put a baby in you we’re gonna have to try again.”

“Baekhyun, I can’t-”

     You jumped up and away from Baekhyun, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back down. He pet your head softly, immediately soothing your worries.

“It’s much easier for an omega to get pregnant, especially when they just presented. It’s only natural for you, for us.”

“Us… you really planned this all out, didn’t you?”

“Can you blame me? I’ve always looked after you, I wasn’t gonna let anyone else do that.”

“There were better ways…”

“You wouldn’t listen.”

“You were a prick.”

“Perhaps…”

“No you were.”

“Sh, sh, you should go back to sleep. We can talk more later, and finish things up properly too.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t worry. I got you, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“Thanks… I suppose…”

“It’s always been you and me. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

(II)

[thesoulesscollection]

The Royal Product; The Candy Jewelry & Kinsley Siblings Facts

It has been a long while since I've posted anything for Honey and or anything else related to her products. I've decided to make this a post on its own since it contains some things of Choc as well 

Candy Jewelry 

Basic explanation; It's a concealment and or disguise spell contained within jewelry. Mostly comes in the form of necklaces but also in earrings, rings, and etc. 

Can be worn for long periods of time unless it is to be taken off or gets damaged then it won't work for the wearer. 

Though there's always going to be a catch and inevitable downside, one is the decline psychologically as people will slowly forget who they once were prior. Severe identity crisis and the new identity will reign havoc.

 ^ Another side effect, physically, is the growth of colorful (pastel) ‘candy’ rocks on the wearer's skin. Usually it starts at the area in question where the jewelry resides. At first the skin is sore, itchy then soon it will consume them until they're nothing but a jaded statue. 

This product and any other doesn't work effectively on the Kinsley Family as it would've for anyone else outside it. They're as close to immunity as one can get.

^ Although that hadn't stopped Choc in his younger years from being overly excessive in taking them. (Ie. Honey's first guinea pig) and having multiple times overdosed 

Honey Kinsley

Has severe anger issues. The type that will get physically violent such as throwing things and fighting. As well will get absolutely vile with the verbale insults, not caring if she crosses a line.

^ Her anger tends to be explosive yet done and over with as quickly as it had started where it leaves her tired afterwards 

^ Does her best to keep her wrath in check (and fails miserably) to remain the perfect lady. The only person who can calm her down is her brother. 

Growing up between the two siblings, she is the spoiled rotten golden child of her grandmother, Candy who had favored her. Whereas Choc was the black sheep that she taunted over his head. 

Both siblings have a natural sweet scent to them where Choc's is of rich chocolate and caramel, hers is sweet honey that has an underlying ting of bitter spice

Similar to her brother, she has light pink clouds surrounding her but way more prominent and thicker, heavier 

^ She can actually command it to her doing so she often lets it move her from one place to another. As well, she can lay and sit on them to rest (same with other people)

An impressive con-woman albeit very controlling, has many contracts (soul bonded) with people. Able to help alter life with her products as one knows it for people who ask for her help. 

More Facts About Choc 

Somehow he managed to get a hold of the teleporter and make it work for him. He does have a knack for it and he got it fixed on his own. 

^ Diligently reworked it with his sister and now is a literal part of him on his person. For example, to get a better control on it he does use a clip on to his tie or a watch to help better control it. 

Whenever he teleports, Choc leaves behind a light gold cloud with small white stars that foams within. It stings slightly for anyone who happens to walk through it and is on the warmer side

^ Now has a permanent sparkly cloud residue that surrounds him but it only takes a keen eye to notice. Choc is unnaturally warm to the touch or to be around due to this like a heater. 

Ends up in awkward situations more then not, either landing in odd places he didn't account for or in the process drags unsuspecting people along with him 

[designatedbreadbox]

Deathstroke Hcs Pt. 2

Tw: Catcall mention, Implication of death, Removal of a body part (not reader), Implied stalking, Drugging, Non-con (? It's not sexual)

A/N: Apologies for any grammar errors!

You have no 'personal' space. No matter how large a room is, it becomes suffocatingly small once he arrives. Your domain is his as soon as he's either caught casually on your couch or just entering your home. He physically powers over you in any aspect so getting him to leave is both a chore and a nightmare.

He'll tease about your lack of hospitality/hostility towards him. Any attempt to harm him, verbal or physical, is met with amused indifference since he sees little reason to take anything you say seriously. Is there a chance you'll hold to your words? Yes, but at the moment that chance is slim to none.

I saw a post on here once that said Slade is the asshole friend where he'll force you to do activities you don't want to do (sfw) and I agree. I personally think Slade gets some satisfaction in seeing you loathing whatever activity he dragged you to; that being said, he isn't unreasonable. For instance, he'll claim that he wants to go somewhere else and that 2nd destination can be your home or a place you actually wanted to go to.

That same person also stated that Slade would in fact care for your opinion on certain subjects. And he would; he just doesn't tell you why he asked since he ignores your opinions a good portion of the time. As emotionally stunted/unavailable as he is due to his background as both a merc and a soldier, Slade would make an effort to get some level of friendliness from you. After all, friends like each other, right?

He's done so many things for you without you asking that he can't fathom why you would be upset at his actions. Like, the person that catcalled you has not only their entire lineage erased but their tongue removed: why are you mortified? Did he say too many details? Or the time where he framed your landlord/lady for shady business in order for them to lower the rent costs to stay afloat on the market. You got cheap rent now, don't you? Instead of pointing fingers, shouldn't you thank him for being such a good friend? How many other 'buddies' of yours go above and beyond like this for you?

Looping back to the first point, anything you try hiding from him can and will be found out. Digitally or not, in order to have secrets with Slade, it would mean to quite literally keep them in your head. No journals/diaries, no blogs, nothing. He'll bide time if he suspects something; otherwise, Slade has no problem confronting you should he have 'enough' evidence to so. He makes a vague comment about whatever it is you tried hiding that does not go further. Blackmail is unnecessary to him. Slade isn't one to joke, and you have no reason to doubt him.

Wealth is another thing he has abundance of. Moving? He'll buy the apartment complex or just cancel the offer for the house you intend to buy for you. Traveling for work? No worry whatsoever; he redirects where you're staying to a better hotel than what your company originally had planned. You'll feel watched at both day and night, though this lessens somewhat once in the hotel room. And you'll indirectly thank Slade for that as he not only scoped out the room itself but also the hotel to ensure it was up to his standards.

Should you ever get kidnapped in the chance that an enemy of Slade figured out you hold a special place in the merc's frozen heart, he surprisingly does not cope well. He does for almost 2 weeks, but beyond that the longer you're gone and he can't get your location has him feeling some type of way. The merc can't pinpoint what this feeling is for once but he guesses it'll pass once he finds you and it does. He'll kill or severely hurt the assailants, take you back to your home and will drug you. Clearly he was slacking; that's the only explanation and the only solution is to put not one but 2 trackers inside you in the instance you're kidnapped again and a tracker is somehow removed.

When you wake, he'll lie through his teeth saying you passed out from stress/trauma/fatigue and will continue that lie until you ever figure it out. After this he refuses to make a rookie mistake like this again.

[cognivisio]

The 5 Best Art Books to Read

Art is a subject that can teach us how to express ourselves both verbally and non-verbally. This is just one of the many benefits of art in our lives. At any rate, it can make life tolerable amid all the chaos in our lives. Art can make people look beyond what is essential for survival and find a way to unwind. The difference between and real life can be seen as the difference between conventional survival methods and subjective survival methods. Money is vital for survival but working for money can be pretty taxing. We can take refuge in art after a long day of working hard to keep our gears running. The best art books can help you rest your eyes after long hours of staring at letters and numbers on a screen. 

What Art Books Can You Buy

There is a plethora of art books for beginners, casual readers and seasoned artists. It does not take an expert to enjoy what an art book has to offer as long as you are interested in the thing. The books can be enjoyed just as a hobby as well. Here are some of the most popular art books:

The Annotated Mona Lisa - The Mona Lisa by Leonardo Da Vinci is one of the most popular paintings in history and it will take some work to come across someone who has not heard about it. This book by Carol Strickland, however, is not all about the painting. It gives you a concrete history of the movements seen in art and the most renowned works of art throughout the ages. The book covers ages starting from Prehistoric to the Postmodern era. This book can fit the preferences of casual art enthusiasts like a glove and is highly popular thanks to the fact that it does not take a long time to grasp what the book wants to convey.

Art: The Visual Guide - You can call this the portable history of art. This book by Graham Dixon features over 2,500 very popular and important works of art and sculptures across millennia. Dixon has taken into account non-Western artists in his book and given them the limelight they deserve. He has taken the pains of diving deep into the art and throwing light on the minutest detail such as its historical and cultural impact among others. If you are a beginner then this book is a must-have.

The Art of Rivalry: Oh yes, art does have its fair share of feuds. This book by Sebastian Smee, the Pulitzer Prize winner has talked about four rivalries that grabbed the world of art by its throat. Nothing like two stalwarts going at it. These are not only interesting to read but also give us an idea of how the artists used to think and how their being at loggerheads changed art forever.

The Architecture of Happiness: If you thought buildings are only meant to house art, Alain de Botton’s book will prove that art is an intrinsic part of architecture. Through captivating prose and stunning images, the author attempts to explore the relationship between humans and the concrete spaces we build around us. If you’re thinking of testing out the architecture space, this is one of the best architecture books for beginners out there.

The Art of The Con: Art forgeries are interesting to read because of their dramatic flair. Anthony M. Amore showcases the most popular forgeries and fakes that have been front-page news. It cannot be denied that pulling off something like this can take skills as well as courage, making this book dramatic as well as cinematic. This is almost like reading a heist book. There are many moments in the book where the fraudsters come agonizingly close to getting the job done. So, if you want to season your art experience with a dash of thrill, you cannot go wrong with this book. 

What Are Some Advantages of Reading Art Books?

Art books can be a great way to appreciate the aesthetics of the works of art as well as learn the history behind the same. We can learn of the others’ takes on the works of art which is a lot like learning literary criticisms in literature. Here are some of the advantages of reading art books:

Stimulate the Mind: Art books, the best ones, can give budding artists an idea of how to give wings to their dreams. They are a welcome respite from the screens and are a great exercise for our eyes. The varying colours can do wonders for our brains and give birth to ideas that even we did not think we could come up with. 

Know the History: Art enthusiasts will jump at the opportunity to know about what went in the heads of the artists while they were at work. It can be like a goldmine for them. The books may also include first-hand insight from the artists themselves and not just deductions.

Conclusion

We interpret art the way we want. That is the beauty of it. We, at BookSmart, have some of the best art books that are aching to be on the shelves of art enthusiasts. There is a plethora of books on this subject and you can rest assured that you will get what you are looking for. 

[unedited-me]

Best Case Scenario

I’m reading  a book about domestic violence. Thankfully, I haven’t experienced a relationship in which I’ve been abused. Not really. I watched a video on TikTok the other day where a girl said ‘At least he didn’t hit you.’ and the response was ‘When did the best case scenario become verbal abuse?’ I haven’t stopped thinking about that.

Reading this book, I can see everything. Every red flag. Every word he’s said wrong, every character flaw, every time he’s shown controlling tendencies. I can see it all so clearly. And I know part of that is because it’s written that way. So the reader can get the bird’s eye view of all the things that happen inside an abusive relationship, minus the mundane daily good parts. Because there are always good parts. It’s so easy to hate his character. Every time he speaks, my skin crawls. I’m hypercritical because I know she should have left the first time, but as much as I don’t want to admit it, I know why she stayed. I don’t know if I would have, but I can’t say for sure. That thought scares me. That thought keeps me where I am. Because if I can see every red flag and every character flaw, and still justify her staying, maybe I am where I belong. Maybe verbal abuse is my best case scenario.

To be clear, I am not sure that I am in a verbally abusive relationship. He certainly would argue that he’s the nicest person I know. And some days he is. Some days he calls me fat and dumb. Pros and cons, I guess. But I think the real problem for me is...it doesn’t feel like I’m getting abused. It doesn’t leave any visible scars. It doesn’t feel abusive. It almost doesn’t even feel wrong. Like he is right, I am overweight and I do sometimes say dumb things. If he was coming at me with lies, and telling me that I was a whore or something, maybe it would feel abusive. Because I’m not. Or maybe the fact that his insults are rooted in truth is exactly what makes them abusive.

My entire life, someone has always told me what to be. And what I am. The latter is usually an insult, and the former is usually a solution. You look a little chubby in that dress, suck in your gut. Thanks, mom. You’re not really smart enough to work in tech, maybe just stay at your job. Thanks, babe. My dad always kind of just threw insults without many solutions. But because of this dynamic with people in my life, being in this type of relationship feels normal. The ‘you matter more than me’ mentality is ever-present in all of my relationships, especially my romantic one. It may be a little unhealthy. I’m scared to talk to him about it, if we’re being honest.

I’m scared to talk to anyone about it. My friends are on my side, but they almost have to be. They’re my friends. My mom has told me to leave him since basically day 1. My internal voice tells me to run. My dad had no interest in even meeting him. My aunt doesn’t like him or the fact that I’m living with him. Our roommate (my friend) also doesn’t like him for me. But if our relationships are supposed to hold a mirror to us and show us who we are...does that mean I’m inherently abusive too? Am I the bad guy? I’m scared to tell my therapist about it or go to therapy with him because...what if I am the bad guy? What if everything he does is justified and I’m the shitty human? My friends say that can’t be the case because they would know that. They’ve known me a decade or more. Before and during him. But they aren’t with me 24/7. Maybe I was always going to end up this way in a relationship. I don’t want to believe that, but maybe I’m the abuser. Maybe verbal abuse isn’t just best case scenario...maybe it’s the only scenario. 

[sunkcost]

i find it really interesting how in many ways jimmy is an inversion of the typical conman. we talk about how his cons are a way of taking back power or gaining a sense of control, but i don’t know that i’ve seen anyone point out (though i’m sure someone has) how his tendency to go after powerful people is the exact opposite of what most conmen do. usually a con artist or a scammer will go after whoever they see as most vulnerable, like a wolf picking off the weakest member of the heard. they target the people they think will be most likely to believe them, the more desperate or well-intentioned the better. jimmy’s father is singled out as a mark because he’s so eager to help people. they don’t care that he needs the money and they don’t feel bad about taking advantage of his kindness. jimmy's marks, in contrast, tend to be that same type of person. he pretends to be the vulnerable one, and rather than taking advantage of their willingness to help, he leads them to believe that they’re taking advantage of him. 

the man that he and marco trick into buying the worthless coin involves himself as soon as he thinks they don’t want him listening. he says “hey, money talks” feeling that he just came out on top of someone else. they never directly sell him on anything. he took it upon himself to buy a coin that was being sold to another person. in the flashback in 1x04 the man yells “later, sucker” as he runs off with the fake rolex (which he thinks they stole off a semi-conscious man passed out in an alley, even if said man was a dick). both plans very clearly hinge on jimmy and marco appearing as the “suckers” and their ‘victim’ taking advantage of that of their own accord. you see it with the stockbroker he and kim scam in the first episode of s2 as well. they lure him in by presenting themselves as people who have lots of money to invest, don’t know what they’re doing, and are very suggestible and desperate for advice. after they leave he goes, “wow. just... wow.” as if he can’t believe his luck in finding two people with so much money that are so easy to manipulate. if you scam someone by pretending to be a mark, it would follow that the people you scam are people looking for marks, or at least are happy to seize the opportunity when it’s presented to them. even in s6, the first guy we see jimmy scamming as “viktor” is constantly trying to trick him into losing bets, unable to believe jimmy keeps falling for it and yet very much enjoying humiliating him and taking his money. jimmy targets walt, who sees himself as superior to those around him and bullies his wife and jesse more than anyone else, exploiting their emotional entanglement with him. the first person walt singles out to help him in his power trip is a drug addict, someone vulnerable that he feels will be easy to control. he prefers vulnerability to reliability, telling gus that he likes jesse because he can trust him and he does what he tells him to. jimmy never really engages with skyler and jesse in the same way walt does. he actually tries to help skyler deal with the man she cheated on walt with without telling walt, and uses walt’s money to do it. if you wanted to be generous (and i do) you could even read his attitude towards skyler, especially with regards to the car wash, as his half-hearted attempt to prevent her from becoming involved. 

however, i think that the most glaring and clearly intentional contradiction in his conman role is his involvement with elder law, elderly people being the quintessential stereotype of a scam victim. despite the fact that “old people love him” and he’s clearly very good at charming them, his elder law practice is genuine. when marco asks if he’s “ripping off old people” he seems somewhat incredulous at the suggestion. far from exploiting them, he actually uncovers and exposes sandpiper crossing for defrauding their residents (a plot which repeatably brings up how vulnerable old people are to abuse and manipulation by citing various legal sanctions). the one time that he does manipulate his former clients as part of a ploy to close the sandpiper suit, his plan would actually result in them getting money, not losing it. when he realizes that his exploitation of their trust had real negative repercussions he calls it off and mitigates the damages by creating a situation that would cause them to see him as the bad guy, the kind of person who actually would happily manipulate and exploit old people without scruples, despite the fact that his elderly clients were some of the only people to genuinely like him. it doesn’t benefit him in any way and he actually says that he really doesn’t want to do it, but he makes the sacrifice anyway because he feels guilty that he exploited their trust in him. 

chuck could be taken as another prime example of someone that the typical conman would see as a perfect victim: mentally ill, often desperate, vulnerable, and dependent on him. instead we’re immediately shown how upset jimmy is at the idea that howard is taking advantage of chuck (“wave bye-bye to your cash cow, ‘cause it’s leaving the pasture”). he switches the numbers only after he feels like chuck exploited kim’s hard work just because she had less power than him and he felt entitled to it. he only retaliates against chuck after he feels chuck knowingly and callously twisted his trust and concern against him. at the same time, they make absolutely clear that jimmy holds total legal power over chuck’s autonomy at multiple points and yet he only ever does what he thinks chuck would want him to, no matter how mad he is at him or how badly chuck’s hurt him. he’s uncomfortable with having the power in the first place, the thought of abusing it would never even cross his mind (not necessarily applauding him for this, but it’s still worth pointing out how it subverts the expectations associated with the archetype). 

the only thing to snap him out of his dark, pain-fueled scam spiral at the end of the series is marion telling him, “i trusted you.” that phrase triggers something and all the fight appears to go out of him. he was relatively unfazed by the man with cancer, and to be honest, his argument wasn’t totally invalid. while having cancer certainly makes you vulnerable in many ways, it doesn’t really have anything to do with how trusting you are or if you’re easily manipulated or if you manipulate other people. the walt example wasn’t inappropriate. maybe jimmy wouldn’t have been as willing as “saul” or “viktor,” maybe he would, but if you’re looking at the criteria he uses to determine his marks, having cancer really isn’t relevant. this is different though. he’s manipulated plenty of people that may have been more vulnerable, but it’s always in service of a bigger plan and in a way that he thinks won’t hurt them (i.e. manipulating the sandpiper residents but only when he believes they would also benefit and willingly taking a hit to reverse the damage he caused after seeing his mistake). at first the nippy lie did seem to fall into those parameters. he wasn’t trying to hurt her in any way, he just wanted to get to jeff. the bleaker his mental state became, the less consideration he seemed to put into who he was hurting and why, but the second that he became cognizant of the fact that he’d manipulated a vulnerable person into trusting him, then exploited that trust, and was now about to see them suffer for it, he stopped cold. even at his darkest and cruelest, that was a horrifying realization. 

none of this is exactly news, but plenty of people exploit and bully those they see as weaker or more vulnerable than them as a way to feel more powerful (walter white is a prime example of that. his entire arc is basically a how-to guide on it.), so i find it interesting that jimmy inverts the conman figure, which does represent that personality type in a lot of ways. his conning is still very much associated with power, but as much as he hates feeling small or weak or vulnerable or exploited or without control, he never turns around and takes it out on someone less powerful. it’s a weak person that claims victory by picking a fight with someone they know can’t hit back. that’s not to say he doesn’t do damage or he never hurts people who don’t deserve to be hurt (whatever that means), but in juxtaposition with walt it works perfectly. both stories follow men who make bad choices in an attempt to stop feeling powerless, but if there’s one thing jimmy’s never been, it’s a bully. to use the archetype of the con artist is genius because once you actually put jimmy in that mold it’s immediately obvious how badly he fits. he’s not shameless. his entire character arc is about shame and desperation for approval from others. he’s not ruthless. he’s overwhelmed by guilt over his own collateral damage. walt is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, using his harmless appearance to trick and attack those more vulnerable than himself. jimmy is a sheep in wolf’s camouflage, trying to cloak his own vulnerability by playing dress up with someone else’s clothes, clothes that never fit quite right. 

[ddarker-dreams]

Hello! This is my first time asking but um what how you think the genshin yans would react if they kidnapped someone only to find out their darling actually liked them back up until they were kidnapped?

that's definitely a moment where darling might start to reflect on their taste ...

Childe 

“Oh... is that so? Well, if I could do it once, then I can do it again.” 

Half glass full approach. Childe somewhat tunes out that whole killjoy part about ‘not liking them anymore’ and really laser focuses in on the fact you used to. That’s the main takeaway here. It’s natural for relationships to have their ups and downs, this is no different. Some seasons are spent in valleys and others up on the mountain tops. If you were hoping for this admission to deter him, you’ll be sorely disappointed. He’s more fired up than ever to rekindle the affection you used to feel. 

Diluc 

“I see. You really...? Ah... I won’t ask for your forgiveness. I only ask that you’ll allow me to take care of you.” 

Don’t be fooled by his aloof response, he’s definitely disheartened over it. This would genuinely catch him off guard because out of all the forms of resistance he was expecting from you, this hits closest to home. Doubts are a poison he absolutely cannot allow to take root. Still, he is still human, and in vulnerable moments he can’t help but wonder if he could’ve gone about this better. The worst questions always start with what if. He does his best to purge this knowledge from his memory, for the worst ghosts that haunt his subconscious are those he can recognize. 

Kaeya

“I promise I won’t bite if you still want to get close to me.” 

Kaeya most definitely noticed, he just weighed out the pros and cons. He decided this was the path he wanted to take regardless. He can be confident in knowing where you are at all times and always has access to you. Your belligerence doesn’t come as a surprise, he didn’t imagine you’d be too thrilled about losing your autonomy. He tries to ‘ease you into it’ using the same charms that made you fall for him in the first place. And well... he did warn you what might happen if you kept pursuing him, not that you ever could’ve imagined what he meant by that. 

Zhongli

“Dearest, there’s no need to jump to conclusions. You’re free to go wherever you please. I’m merely suggesting that I accompany you during these turbulent times. That is all.” 

Zhongli’s ability to deescalate cannot be overstated. Semantics can be a fickle thing, he likes to consider your current situation as a change in housing rather than outright imprisonment. There are no chains on your ankles or locks fastened tight to the door. He feels an intimate relationship can still be maintained in this environment. Arguing with Zhongli is impossible, he’s engaged in so much verbal discourse throughout his thousands of years of life. You won’t make any progress toward convincing him he’s done something wrong. 

Albedo

“Formed attachments can’t be dismissed so easily.” 

Albedo figures that this is a temporary roadblock that he’ll work through with you soon enough. It makes perfect sense that you’re not used to this new, frightening situation; all the more reason for you to cling to what’s familiar (aka him). He thinks that the bond you’ll form due to the extremity of the situation will be stronger than if he courted you the ‘normal’ way. There’s also the added benefit that he needn’t concern himself over outside variables any longer, such as losing you to a romantic rival or the like. He’s unshaken in his decision and will make that obvious to you. 

Xiao

“... I know what you’re trying to do.” 

He doesn’t really, but it seems like the thing to say given the circumstances. He won’t speak any more on the subject yet it frequently occupies his thoughts. Introspection isn’t his forte, so though learning this bothers him, he doesn’t know why it does. Shouldn’t he just be content with how things are? While you do successfully rile him up for a bit, he’s learned not to dwell whenever possible. To do so would welcome unnecessary stress, hindering him in his work of dispatching restless spirits throughout Liyue. Xiao ends up distracting himself to take his mind off things. 

Scaramouche

“Did you think your measly attempts at manipulation would get you anywhere?” 

(It’s getting you somewhere). Internally, he’s panicking, not wanting his face to betray just how upset this revelation makes him. He’s a walking bag of contradictions. On one hand, he thinks he’s entitled to both your love and admiration. On the other, if his own creator saw fit to cast him aside, how much value can he actually possess? The fact you saw value in him despite his many glaring flaws (mostly owing to his cruel personality), and overlooked them... he’s not sure what to make of it. He doesn’t feel guilty so much as he feels disappointment, knowing that he’s missing out on something that could’ve been better. 

Kazuha

“Kidnapping... is a bit of a strong word, wouldn’t you say?” 

Kazuha doesn’t like the “k” word because he’s convinced himself that isn’t what he’s doing. You’re outside! Enjoying the great outdoors! There’s nature, there’s freedom, and he’s sharing the joy of traveling with you. He knows it’s a bit of an adjustment compared to your previous stationary life, but if it’s true you held romantic feelings for him, he thinks that should aid in your adjustment. He’s still the same Kazuha that stirred up passion inside your heart, he’ll reassure. You just get to spend even more time together. He’s actively choosing to look at it this way so that he doesn’t get too dejected about it. 

[vrisrezis]

So I just finished an Inside Job and I was thinking...

✨The group as yanderes✨

HORRIFYING IN THE BEST WAY

Cw; stalking, toxic relationships, non con is implied for andres and Gigi’s part?? Kinda?, definitely implied r*pe for myc, death threats, blackmail, implied grooming for JR’s bit.

This is not meant to romanticize abuse, or any other topics included in this.,

Reagan is the stalkerish kind of yandere, as you’d expect.. while Reagan in general I think would make inventions just to impress her love, as a yandere it’s way more obsessive, and it’s completely destroying her, her life and other relationships she has with other people. But hey, her work ethic has never been better:) It’s like all that matters is getting your approval, and as much as she hates to admit it she knows it. Those circles under her eyes are darker and deeper, and she gets extremely angry at you if she doesn’t get the reaction or approval she wants.

Brett likes buying you things, to the point of it being very overwhelming to handle. He gets visibly upset if he doesn’t get the reaction he wants out of you, or the validation from you that he craves. While personality wise he’s different than Reagan, and his attempts to get your attention are different, he is just like her in terms of what he wants out of that relationship and how he acts towards certain things. But unlike Reagan he can at least pull off seeming normal. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he tries harder, gets you even more gifts and even more. The man is relatively harmless, but you can quickly get annoyed and freaked out by his obsessiveness. He seriously won’t leave you alone.

Andre must admit, maybe he’s thinking about you a little too much? Even when he’s wasted out of his mind, even when he’s having sex with random sexy people you do not leave his mind. In fact, he remembers fucking this girl and moaning out your name on accident. It’s gotten to the point it’s ruining everything for him. Like seriously. He’s never been so committed to anything before, not even religion? But he can’t let himself indulge in this, so he starts to build some sort of shrine of you. It was in hopes that this feeling would go away and he could live normally again but alas, the feeling gets worse and it’s only a matter of time before he takes you for himself, whether you like it or not.

Gigi is a woman who likes power and control, if she wants something, she gets it. And she wants you, so she will get you. Regardless of whether you want her back or not, she is extremely bold and flirtatious and makes her intentions with you very clear. Even if you seem uncomfortable, she still persists. She is so determined to make you hers, she doesn’t care about what you want. She knew at some point you didn’t want this, but she’s been able to convince herself you’re just playing hard to get. She is obsessive and will not give up until you’re rightfully hers.

Myc never in a million fucking years thought the day would come he genuinely became so attracted to somebody he would become straight up obsessed with them but here he is. This motherfucker is so out of his goddamn mind and he knows it, he knows you don’t like him. He’s tried to get you to fuck him, didn’t work. He tried getting the both of you super wasted, even just you wasted and asking you to fuck him, didn’t work. He’s crazy enough to try to force you into things, or verbally convince you this is what you want. He grows tired, and eventually uses those mind powers of his to convince you to have sex with him, and finally date him. He didn’t want it to come down to this..

Glenn is obsessive, maybe not like Brett or Andre but he cuts quite close. He’s not exactly known for being devoted to somebody, not even to that ex wife of his. Sure, he definitely stalked her a bit but nothing quite like this. He’s never been so addicted to being around somebody. His jokes aren’t exactly known to be “PC” so his jokes towards you may not always be enjoyed. This annoys him greatly, his violent tendencies grow worse and worse the less you laugh at his jokes. It feels like you don’t get him at all! But that’s not right… you understand him more than anyone! So why are you refusing to get his joke? Are you trying to piss him off? To make matters worse, you’re playing hard to get. He may have to start asking you on a date with a knife at your throat if you don’t stop playing these games..

JR IS HORRIFYING! He is a powerful white man of course this man of scary. He can send all the blackmail he wants your way if you do not cooperate with him. But he’s not asking for too much is he? All he wants to do is be with you, to court you. He wants to take you on the finest dates, take you to the nicest places, spoil you, give you everything you could ever want. He’s being kind, he’s being generous. He’s so devoted to you, how could you ever say no to him? He is one that likes to manipulate you into being with him, from the moment he met you he was manipulating you into dating him though. He just knew there was something about you from the moment you two met. He has a bit of a habit of “degrading” you, well that’s what you call it. He thinks he’s simply helping you improve yourself:)

[fernweh-writes]

What about slashers with a S/O who’s insecure so they keep their shirt on during sex 👀👀👀

I also love your writing so much, it’s so good I-

I hope you all know that if you give me a compliment that I start planning our wedding. Anyways, here you go hun

-Fern

Warnings: NSFW content, female reader, mentions of kidnapping w/Asa and slight non-con with him to

Slashers With an S/O Who Keeps Their Shirt On During Sex

Michael Myers

Surprisingly, he is one of the most understanding. Michael gets what it’s like to want to hide parts of yourself in order to feel safe and secure so he’s more than okay with you keeping your shirt on. After all, he keeps the mask on during sex, why couldn’t you wear a shirt.

Expects you to be okay with the mask staying on since you like keeping your shirt on. Don’t be a hypocrite y/n.

However, once you finally feel okay ditching the shirt is when Michael will decide to ditch the mask around you. Think of it as him leveling the playing field. Both of you are bearing your insecurities to each other, becoming completely exposed and open to each other. For the first time, Michael will take things slow and gentle. Congratulations, you have unlocked love making instead of primal fucking.

Once Michael takes his mask off around you there’s no going back, not that there was really any going back before either. Now you’re not only his, you’re his permanently. here is no leaving or moving on.

Bo Sinclair

Bo may come off as cocky and arrogant but really, he’s just hiding insecurities himself. So if he cares about you, he’s not going to push you to completely expose yourself to him not matter how badly he wants to see all of you.

Will give you one of his old shirts to wear while he fucks you. If you’re going to war something it’s going to be something that still proves to him that you’re his. Besides, he also likes the idea of taking his shirts back after he’s completely wrecked you while you’ve worn them.

He may not be able to look but he’s most definitely still going to touch. Bo will slide his hands up under your shirt to grope you and tease your nipples with his fingers, anything to get you to keep making those pretty noises for him.

Once you finally feel comfortable taking your shirt off during sex, he does nothing but praise you for once. He never wants to see you with a shirt on ever again while he’s fucking you and if that means no lewd teasing and degrading for once then so be it.

Vincent Sinclair

Once again, a slasher that is very understanding of your insecurities. Vincent is insecure about his body as well as his face. (Cause why else would you wear thick baggy sweaters surrounded by hot wax and lit candles in Louisiana)

In fact, the first time you and Vincent have sex both of you stay mostly clothed. Over time, both of you begin to strip down more but he knows better than to make a grab for your shirt. He’s to sweet though so he wouldn’t try some shit like that.

This man absolutely worships your body. He does have to show his muse how much he appreciates them after all.

If you ever decide to take your shirt off he makes sure to let you know how much he loves you and the way you look, even though he can’t express it verbally.

Loves when you wear one of his sweaters. Your completely blissed out look while make fists around the sleeves that are to long on you as you make all those pretty sounds could drive him mad.

Thomas Hewitt

The fact you feel insecure around him and feel the need to hide your body makes him pretty upset. Of course he’s not upset with you, he’s just upset you don’t see yourself the way he sees you.

Does his best to communicate to you how much he loves you, how pretty he thinks you are, how much he cares for you. Thomas just wants you to feel comfortable and confident when you;re around him.

Still, he doesn’t push you to do something you’re not comfortable it’s. He understands what it’s like to want to hide the parts of you that you don’t like, the parts other people have ridiculed and made fun of.

When you finally do take your shirt off, he goes crazy. Have fun attempting to walk literally ever again. This man will give you a whole new definition for the phrase “rearranging your guts.”

Brahms Heelshire

He’s a complete brat about everything, and while he won’t try and take your shirt off, he’s not going to pretend he’s happy about it. Often begs you to take it off as he’s brutally thrusting into you. Not gonna happen Brahmsy.

Again, he may not look but he can touch and he’s going to take full advantage of that. It’s not his fault you whine and make such pretty noises for him whenever he sneaks his hands up under your shirt.

In the winter, he’ll wrap his cardigan around you as well. The old house can be hard to keep heated and he doesn’t want you to get cold. You should think him for working so hard to keep you warm.

When you feel comfortable enough to be completely naked in front of him he makes sure to fuck you dumb. He won’t stop until you’ve cum multiple times and struggle to form sentences. You’ll be shaking and covered in both cum and sweat by the time he’s through with you.

It’s not like it was anything he hasn’t seen before considering he just stalks you all of the time. But still, he wants to see every part of you and that stupid shirt of yours always got in the way of that.

Stu Macher

He’s surprisingly chill about the whole thing. While he is absolutely dying to see you completely naked he’s not going to shame you for feeling insecure. You’re still going to get lots of compliments and praise from him while he fucks you whether you’re wearing a shirt or not.

Will make sure that your comfortable with everything that happens. He loves you and doesn’t want you to not enjoy anything that happens in he bedroom so he’s always asking for your permission before he does anything.

Won’t make any comments if you tell him about something that would help you feel more secure or safe. Want the lights off if you’re going to take your shirt off? He’s more than okay with it, he’s had plenty of practice for navigating through the dark.

His goal is to make you scream and he’s not gonna let your shirt get in the way of that. Expect for him to still tease your hardened nipples through your shirt, will even suck on them through your shirt, he doesn’t care.

Billy Loomis

He dated Sydney for a decent amount of time, this isn’t his first rodeo with a “the clothes stay on rule.” Of course, he would never tell you that. Besides, at least he still gets to fuck you even if you do want to keep your shirt on.

Billy is the most likely to have a conversation with you about how he can make you feel more comfortable. He may be a psychopath but he really can be loving and considerate towards the people he really cares about.

He’s not going to pretend like he doesn’t want to see you completely naked. He’s a smooth talker so you can bet that he’s going to be flirting and doing his best to convince you to just let him slip your shirt over your head. Like pls, just a quick peak.

If you ever decide to take your shirt off he does nothing but compliment you. Of course those compliments still come with a bit of degrading but if you’re dating Billy you’re used to being called his pretty little slut.

Jesse Cromeans

If you’re going to keep your shirt on he’s going to make sure that it’s some fancy designer shirts. Or better yet, one of his fancy designer shirts that is way to big on you. He would love nothing more to fuck you while you’re wearing one of his shirts.

Understands your insecurity and doesn’t try and push past your boundaries. Jesse has enough fun pushing your physical boundaries during sex. You’re most definitely always sore the next day.

Jesse would love to film you while he pounds into you but if he knows that you’re insecure he’s not going to ask. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured into doing something and knows it’s something you most likely wouldn’t be comfortable doing anyways if you’re insecure. He knows that he would hate for you to pressure him into taking his mask off, so he would never put you in that kind of position.

If you ever feel comfortable enough to take off your shirt he goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable the whole time. Jesse will make sure to constantly check in on you and make sure you’re okay with everything.

Asa Emory

He’s the worst one considering that he kidnaps you, so it’s not like you have much of a say in what happens. Whatever Asa wants from you, he’s going to get from you whether it be the easy way or the hard way.

If he cares about you enough to bring you to his home, then he’s more likely to listen when you express your insecurities and discomfort with being completely nude.

But if he decides he wants to see you completely bared to him while your locked up in his hotel then he’s just going to cut your shirt off with that knife of his and that’s that.

At the end of the day, Asa will always be a sadist and thrives off of your fear and embarrassment. It would take a lot for him to listen to your requests since he pretty much views you as nothing more than an exotic pet.

[erwinsvow]

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: uncle eren comes to visit.

warnings: step-cest, jealousy, manipulation, hints of verbal/emotional abuse + touch of dubcon to con, reader feels guilty, grinding/dry-humping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

author's note: part two of sole salvation. i really hope everyone enjoys this! the warnings are just to be on the safe side as i do not want to accidentally trigger anyone, please feel free to message me if you want to ask about something before reading.

tagging @sangwoos-mom & @divine-delight :)

If Zeke didn’t want my interest to get piqued, Eren thinks to himself as he watches you stroll away, off to get him to a fresh cup of lemonade, he should have kept his mouth shut.

When his brother had mentioned his new fiancee had a daughter, Eren had supposed it would be some spoiled, bratty kid. After all, he had met your mother once before, and he didn’t think that kind of a woman could raise someone even remotely well-behaved.

So given that, he was more than pleasantly surprised the first time he met you. It was all a shock, from the almost angelic way you float down the stairs to greet him, your soft skin and sweet smile, to the genuine look in your eyes when you tell him that you’re glad to finally meet him.

He still doesn’t know what Zeke did to deserve you in his life, the taste in his mouth a touch too bitter when he watches the way you look at his brother, even when your mom is in the same room. It’s dreamy, as though there’s no better way to spend your time and nothing better to think about than your step-father.

It’s a little unfair, Eren thinks, that Zeke has a sweet, doting little thing head over heels for him. It’s a little unfair that Zeke waited so long to invite him over, to introduce him to you. Maybe it was brotherly instinct, maybe he knew that once Eren met you, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, just like it had been for Zeke.

Regardless of what it was, Eren knew one thing for certain. Sibling should always share.

It finally takes an unbearable conversation on the phone with your mother for an excuse, an opportunity to arise. The lie is taking hold in his head and spilling out of his mouth before he can even control it—“Yeah, the pipes burst and it’s just a mess, I called Zeke but his phone’s off- no, really? Just for the weekend, I promise- thank you, I’ll be over soon.”

His bag is packed and cock is twitching at the idea of getting you alone in that house, maybe when Zeke���s locked away in his office and your mother’s out shopping. It’s going to be a hot week, with almost intolerable heat, and he’s positive it’ll have you in revealing clothes (no doubt ones that his brother bought for you) and teensy swimsuits when you go for an afternoon swim.

That’s what he’s thinking of—the image of you soaked to the bone, wet hair and the thin, dripping material of your suit sticking to your skin—when he pulls into your driveway later that day.

It’s almost easy enough to miss the slight wobble in your steps, the way your clothes are just a little too wrinkled for someone that’s been sitting around the house all day.

But Eren notices it, of course, and doesn’t miss the way Zeke practically keeps one eye on you the entire day, no matter who he’s talking to, either.

Maybe if Eren was just a drop stupider, a bit less cunning, you and Zeke could get away with all of it, but he’s not. He thinks it’s his turn to have his fun with you.

Your mother’s even more intolerable than he remembers. He wonders how bad a family dinner could be, but this is much worse than he could have fathomed. It’s a whole host of things, like how she’s oblivious to the affair happening right under her nose and her small comments that have your lips trembling and eyes blinking away tears before they can fall.

Jeez. Eren had initially felt bad for himself, but he’s starting to wonder how you put up with it. Maybe fucking around with Zeke is your own way of getting revenge, payback for every ‘Why do you look so tired, it’s not like you’re the one working all day’ and ‘Don’t you have plans with friends, or are you just gonna bother your parents all day?’

By the time dinner ends, you’ve made your way to the kitchen almost automatically, putting away dishes and wiping counters without even being told, as Zeke gives your mother a cold, hard stare.

“Was all that really necessary?” his brother questions quietly, eyes fuming with anger yet still disguising his true reason for being upset.

“What?” your mother responds innocently, pretending as though she hadn’t said anything wrong. Eren watches the interaction carefully. He thinks it’d be better if he didn’t interject on a married couple’s little spat, but here he goes again, words out before he can control them. They’re spoken a bit louder than they needed to be, but he wants to make sure you hear them over the running water.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good girl to me, no? Maybe you should be easier on her.”

And a few feet away, in the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. Uncle Eren—who you’d only met once and heard about a handful of times, someone who doesn’t owe you anything, someone not even really related to you—defending you?

It was enough to make tears rush to your eyes again, a smile on your face as you rinse off the dishes.

Good girl. The words run through your head again, seemingly on repeat. They’re your two favorite words, enough to pick you up from the dark, sullen headspace you’re in as a result of your mother’s cruel phrases and Zeke’s stinging silence.

Zeke claims it’ll become too obvious, even to your clueless mother, if he always takes your side and speaks up for you, despite how much he wants to, he says. You’re so hopelessly gone, so devoted to him that you don’t think you have it in you to fight for it. The words he says when the two of you are alone, how he makes you feel and spoils you rotten makes up for it, right?

That’s what you’d been telling yourself all this time, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the act going. Does he think it’s easy to watch him walk into the bedroom he shares with your mother every night? To watch her kiss him goodbye, hold onto his arm in public, while you trail behind like a lost puppy?

It’s not actually revenge you’re aiming for, when you start greeting Eren in the morning brightly, walking straight on over to him in the living room rather than the kitchen where your step-father is. It’s closer to a plea for attention, like you’re waiting for Zeke to realize you can play at this game too.

Eren’s more than happy to indulge you, spending hours of the day beside you on the couch watching movies, or watering the lawn while you work on your garden, claiming that he just wants to help out around the house as much as he can. His weekend-long visit turns into a week, as the ‘good for nothing contractors are taking their sweet time.’

It’s terribly easy to make you believe every word he’s saying, with you even defending him when Zeke asks how much longer he’s planning on sticking around.

“He’s family,” you had argued valiantly, leaving your step-father with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw as he noticed Eren smiling behind you. For once, your mother had agreed with you, and Zeke was left with no choice.

It’s sunny and warm when Eren’s opportunity, the one he’s been waiting for patiently, appears. Your mother’s gone out again, this time to the salon, there’s that hour of time right after she’s left that you usually treasure, because you know there’s no chance she’ll be on her way back or call home.

It’s usually your favorite time of the day, when you know you can have Zeke all to yourself, and that’s what you’re thinking, when you hesitantly make your way to the door of his office.

Truly, you hadn’t meant to make Zeke angry, you just wanted to be there for Uncle Eren how he was there for you. You were ready to make up and forget about it now, dolled up in a new sundress that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet. Zeke had bought it only weeks ago, before Uncle Eren’s sudden visit, and you thought he might like it if you wore it now.

Your hand has just reached the cool metal of the doorknob, just about to twist when you hear a ringing from inside the room, of Zeke’s phone going off.

You step back, knowing better than to interrupt one of his calls. You’re disheartened a little, mind wondering why he would schedule something when you and he both know this is your hour, your chance to be alone.

You make your way back downstairs, lingering on the last step and thinking about going back up in a few minutes, when Uncle Eren’s voice calls to you from the living room, making you jump a little.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, voice calm and quiet, a contrast to your thudding heart.

“That’s okay, Uncle Eren,” you say, and your head turns back to look in the direction of Zeke’s office inadvertently. “I was just-”

“Waiting for Daddy, huh?” Your lips part a little in surprise, confused by his implication. Though surely, Zeke wouldn’t have told Uncle Eren anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“I-I just needed to ask him something, but I think he’s on the phone with someone,” you say quietly, confused at Eren’s tone, the confidence with which he spoke those words, almost mockingly.

“Oh, yeah. He told me he’s busy all afternoon, something or other about work and a report-” Eren stops himself right when he notices your expression change, looking thoroughly upset that Zeke was busy when you were ripe for the taking. “He didn’t tell you about that?”

Fuel to the fire, maybe a bit too much, but Eren doesn’t care. Not as long as you keep it up, looking like a maimed little prey upon realizing that Daddy was too busy for you.

Yes, Eren was getting much better with the lying. It doesn’t even register to you to question his words, to go back up and double check, that Zeke might, in fact, be waiting for you to knock on his door at this very second.

Your feet find their way to the sofa, slumping down dejectedly, as Eren sits right next to you. It’s the way you two have been sitting for the past week, except he’s ready to take the risk. His hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing the soft skin as you let out a shaky breath, wiping away a stray tear.

“All afternoon?” comes your quiet voice, trembling at the mere notion that Zeke was upset with you. You hadn’t meant to take it this far, hadn’t thought he would be ignoring you just because you disagreed with something he said for the first time.

But your sadness is turning into something different when you look at the hungry, almost predatory way Uncle Eren is looking at you now.

“That’s what he said, sweetheart. Did you two have plans, or something?” It’s coming off nonchalant, or so he hopes, because every bone in his body is excited at the prospect before him, blood rushing to his hardening cock as he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“N-no, I just… He always spends time with me when mom leaves. I just thought he would be free.”

It’s the sweet, lonely way you’re looking into his eyes, your own doe-like and watery, that tips him over the edge.

“Well, I can keep you company.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, baby. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left all alone… it’s not right, well, at least to me.”

“Yeah?” Eren nods his head, line between his lies and the truth blurring suddenly as you inch closer and closer to him.

“I wouldn’t treat you like that, if you were mine, you know-” and he can’t finish his sentence, because your hands are on the collar of his shirt and you’re shifting onto his lap, and your lips are on each other.

It’s stupid, you know, to be so easily guided by a few choice words, putty in virtually anyone’s hands if they say the right things and make you feel seen and heard, but you can’t stop now.

Eren’s tongue is in your mouth, your lips practically glued together as you feel his hands go under the soft cotton of your dress, exploring the supple skin of your thighs. It’s not long before his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping as moan into his mouth.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you yelp, pulling away for just a second before Eren’s hand is on the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss again. You moan again, louder, when his teeth bite down on your lip just a little bit, when Eren finally pulls away.

“Can’t be too loud, remember, sweetheart? Daddy’s busy upstairs,” he says, somehow knowing exactly what would rile you up. The words act like a little shock running through your system, making you even more eager for Eren’s touch.

“Don’t care-!” you mewl, head going fuzzy when you feel Eren’s hard cock grind against your core, waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You’re still, Eren’s hand coming up to cover your mouth as he continues his rocking movement, making you moan against his hand.

Your eyes roll back when Eren increases his speed, and it’s silly, how the barely-there contact is making you shake, the coil in your stomach tense and unwinding, when Eren stops completely.

You whine loudly, muffled some by his hand, but not entirely, causing Eren to spank you again.

“I thought you were a good girl, hm? Don’t get bratty on me now,” he says, though he thinks it went in one ear and out the other as you come down from your incomplete high.

“I want-I want you, Uncle Eren, now-!” Another whine, another spank. You cry out again, until the fourth slap—which leaves your ass sore already from Eren’s heavy-handedness—silences you.

“Sweetheart, stop misbehaving or you’re not gonna get anything, okay?” he coos, fingers finding your chin and directing your face to look him in the eyes. They’re lust-blown too, and his hardness is still evident underneath your body, but your body’s inclined to follow his rules, despite how badly you want to cum.

“Yes, Uncle Eren,” you say softly, your squirming body finally stopping. Eren’s fingers find their way to the thin straps of your sundress, pulling them until they rest on your shoulder and expose your neck and collar to him.

“Tell me something, baby, did you wear this for me? Or for him?” The very mention of Zeke makes your body stiffen, but you’re still desperate for more and eager to please Uncle Eren.

“For you,” you mumble, wanting to just bury your head in the crook of Eren’s neck and feel him inside you, though you know you won’t get what you want that easily.

“Me? I’m so honored,” he says, letting out a laugh at how your body shakes in anticipation but you stay completely still. He wonders if Zeke had to teach you to be this obedient, or if it just comes to you naturally.

He thinks it’s the latter when he rolls his hips quickly, watching you squirm and bite your lip hard to keep quiet, another rush of pleasure coursing through you, though it’s not nearly enough.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been good enough to me, haven’t you?” he asks, and you nod your head quickly. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” You nod again and let out a shaky breath when Eren moves your hips with his hands, finally giving you the much-needed pressure on your clit.

“Why don’t you cum for me, baby, just like this? Mmh?” You’re letting out little squeals at each contact, hips moving faster and faster as Eren lays back and lets you use his cock as a toy to grind against. His head falls back at how good it feels, though he won’t let himself cum until he’s inside you.

You’re close again, stomach tensing again and that familiar feeling gathering inside your chest, making you feel warm all over as you speed up.

The breaking point is when Eren’s hands come to your chest, pulling down your dress and exposing your tits to the cool air. His fingers pinch one while his mouth finds the other, and suddenly you can’t keep quiet no matter how hard you try, moans spilling out your mouth as well as repeated cries of Uncle Eren, that sound sweet as sugar to Eren.

It’s when Eren starts bucking his hips up too, that you finally cum, a bolt of pleasure running through your entire body as he keeps going. You’re not entirely sure what kind of noises you’re making—everything seems to be muted and fuzzy as repeated shocks make you shake, Eren’s firm grip on your tits being the only thing that’s grounding you.

When you finally come down, forcing yourself away from Eren’s lap and legs pressed tightly together to calm your oversensitive cunt, there’s a lecherous look in Eren’s eyes. It’s screaming to you, silently, how he’s not done with you yet.

“Aw, baby, look how fast you came just from a little bit of humping. Are you that desperate, bunny? Is Daddy not taking care of you?”

Your face feels like it might be on fire, blood and heat rushing at the same time and burning quickly with shame at the realization that Eren knew all along, that he’s been playing this little game with you since his arrival and you never, not once, had the upper hand.

He feels more predatory than ever before, spreading your legs despite how your legs ache and your core is burning—even if you wanted more, you don’t think you could take it—but it doesn’t seem like Eren cares.

“U-uncle Eren, we shouldn’t- h-he might-” you start, but are cut off as Eren presses a finger to your lips.

“Sweetheart, isn’t that a little unfair? If you get to cum, and I don’t? Be a good girl and spread for me,” he says, and you feel your body comply automatically.

Your back’s on the couch now, Eren hovering over you. All it would take is a few steps in this direction after coming down the stairs for someone to find you, but you can hardly care when Eren’s shoving your dress up, exposing your panties and shoving them to the side, your wetness on display for him.

“One day, baby, when Daddy’s not here, I’m gonna fuck you stupid with my tongue—just not today,” and the words go straight to your head. Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest every time he mentions Zeke, a sense of guilt washing over you and replacing the pleasure you feel, but you forget all about it when you see Eren undos his pants and take out his hardened cock.

It’s plainly wrong to compare it to Zeke’s, and though it might not be longer, it’s definitely thicker, not as pretty but covered in throbbing veins that you can’t even imagine feeling inside you.

Eren’s about to grant your wish, running his cockhead over your sensitive clit once, twice, and just as you're expecting a third, he pushes inside of you.

A strangled, loud moan escapes your lips before he can cover your mouth again. It’s agonizing, not being able to make a sound as your step-uncle fucks you into the couch, movements picking up and a steady pace filling the room with obscene noises. You can’t see where the two of you are connected, since your eyes are locked with Eren’s pretty green ones, but you know you’re making a mess.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every thrust stretching you out, you think he’s ruined your cunt for anyone else—but that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s silent, save for the heavy patter of Eren’s balls against your ass with each thrust, the sound of his hips knocking with yours. He’s trying to keep his grunts silent, but it’s getting harder and harder with the way you’re clenching around him, so tight and wet and soft, he wonders what his brother did to deserve someone like you—he wonders why he doesn’t spend every minute inside you.

Your sensitive cunt tightens around him, knowing only another few strokes and grazes on your clit will be enough to tip you into your second orgasm. Your shaky hand finds Eren’s, pulling his wrist away from your face and meeting his lips again, releasing muffled moans into his mouth.

You know he’s close too, from the way his pace picks up, and you pull away just for a second, just to say three words.

“Please, Uncle Eren.”

And it’s enough to make his hips stutter, enough to uncoil the knot in your tense stomach and have your orgasm washing over you, as you feel Eren fill your cunt with his hot cum. Your lips are on each other, the lewd squelching of his slowing thrusts matching the small squeaks you release, until he finally pulls out and your panties snap back over your leaking cunt.

It’s hard to catch your breath, from your position laying down, feeling your tight hole throb and Eren’s cum spill out, probably onto the sofa seat. You adjust the top of your dress, covering your tits and pulling one strap up. When you’re fixing the skirt, you feel Eren’s hands pull the other strap onto your shoulder, hands lingering on your exposed skin.

You shy away from looking at him, despite how his cum is still inside you. It feels too intimate, almost, because a part of you thinks you were taken advantage of, and another part of you doesn’t ever want Eren to leave you.

Eren’s fingers find your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. You blink quickly, licking your swollen lips and biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Neither of you speak, though you know what’s lingering in the air. You can tell he’s gotten what he wanted, and he’s going to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from speaking first, throat scratchy and dry and your words nothing more than a whisper.

“C-can I… did you- did you mean all those things you said? Before?”

And suddenly Eren understands everything, why you’re this way, why you need to be validated so badly, why his brother’s such a good match for you. He thinks he’d sacrifice anything too, like his marriage and a new life, just to make you happy.

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I meant every word of it.”

“Really?” There’s a soft smile on your lips, your eyes watery and he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with how hard he fucked you.

“Yeah, I-”

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeke’s voice comes from behind you.

[tsunderedoctor]

How They Kiss 2

So I wanted to a part 2 to this; if you have any other characters you want mentioned, hit me up!

Donquixote Doflamingo

A tongue kisser for sure, like do you see what that tongue do? He’s the type to claim what’s his and doesn’t care if others are watching or has a problem with him.

Also a jealous kisser! Like s/o could just be talking to Baby 5 or someone else in the family and didn’t see him walk in. First of all, how dare them for not noticing his presence and secondly, how dare them keep talking! 

Is going to make it a big deal, will legit interrupt s/o, turn them to face him and just go at it; while the other person is still in the room watching-

Once he knows he has them hot and bothered will let go and walk away saying he has some meeting to attend to and doesn’t have time for trivial things.

Definitely just waiting for s/o to come see him and beg him for more!

Dracule Mihawk

A sweet kisser! He is usually apathetic, but he does show some signs of him to his s/o. Simple pecks or even long drawn out pecks does the man (I wanted to say boy but he’s almost half my age so-) good! 

Another one who likes kissing goodbye! It just seems more romantic to him and lets him know they are awaiting his return.

Speaking of romantic, he is! I can totally see him reading love novels on the side and would be the one to use them on his s/o-! 

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Also his kisses taste like the wines he drinks and that’s a bonus in my book!

Crocodile 

So I am basing this off the Crocodile now and not the Crocodile during Alabasta Arc, because that dude gave no two shits about romance let alone anyone besides himself-

The Crocodile now seems more willing to give romance a try if the right person came along; with that in mind he is a mix between sweet and possessive when kissing! 

Kisses are very rare though, he almost considers them taboo because they show how he feels about s/o and he doesn’t need them or anyone else knowing how weak he can be.

So PDA is a no-no and will not accept s/o initiating kisses in or outside of their private life.

Probably kissed them the first time when he went to Marineford and helped Luffy and the gang cause he legit didn’t know if he would make it and wanted to try it once with them.

Killer

My heart still hurts for this boy-

Okay! I think he doesn’t really know how to kiss/didn’t know kissing was a thing until his s/o kissed his mask where his forehead would be.

“What did you do?”

“I kissed you?”

“Is that some curse/hex?”

After that he wants his s/o to kiss his forehead all the time now! When he goes on missions, kiss him. When he comes back, kiss him. When he goes to the bar to get drunk, please kiss him.

He would be the hesitant/scared kisser. Not because he thinks he is bad, he just doesn’t think he’s good enough to kiss s/o. 

Please encourage baby to give you more kisses :)

Basil Hawkins

So my boy is a prude; but a gentleman prude!

Does not care for PDA and after his alliance with Kid and Apoo is completely against kissing his s/o all together (”The cards said it is not in our favor to kiss among these mongrels”)

I honestly think no one would know he and his s/o were a couple because they are just so good at keeping their love mental/verbal versus physical.

Definitely an acts of kindness/small gifts love language type. 

Will only initiate/let s/o kiss him if the cards say they can kiss (I’m not kidding this man is so superstitious-). If allowed he is a simple peck kisser, doesn’t really care for physical affection; if s/o needs more though he will consult the cards-

Charlotte Katakuri

First of all Katakuri looks so good as a 48yo- Please tell me your secrets sir, is it the donuts?

When s/o first asked for a kiss from him, the man just left. Couldn’t handle the fact that one, s/o wants to kiss him and two, s/o wants to kiss him knowing what his mouth looks like.

He is so self-conscious when it comes to kissing! So I can see s/o kissing him all over before getting to the actual kissing of lips, just to help ease the mood and give him some confidence.

Will ask if he can see what they will do first using his  Kenbunshoku Haki if he is feeling extra insecure. 

If he did manage to kiss s/o, he would be a tender/gentle kisser. He’s also nervous of hurting s/o due to his size and teeth. 

Marco

A playful kisser! Loves to tease and antagonize his s/o in anyway! Just because he thinks it’s cute to see them pout or try to dominate him! Also loves if his s/o plays with his hair/touches him while kissing!

Doesn’t mind PDA too much, but not full on make-out scenes; he just can’t deal with Ace making fun of him or asking too many questions!

Depending on his mood he can get pretty needy too, so don’t feel bad s/o if you get needy, boy gets ya! 

When in sub!space wants pecks and just to love s/o and worship them. However in dom!space will totally do make-out sessions to show s/o just how much control he has (but to also show his worship cause boy is a giver). 

Smoker the White Hunter

A tsundere kisser! Like gosh s/o, catch you see he’s busy smoking his sixth cigar? Okay please don’t be sad/cry he will kiss you! 

Can’t help but find s/o so cute too him, especially when they want kisses (they could be the toughest person in the world, but he’s still like “Cute”). 

His kisses are super soft and he actually has nice lips that just mold into s/o’s! Like was he made just for them? Is he some kind of sex god (don’t ask him that he will get so embarrassed and pout-)?

Gets embarrassed easily if s/o pampers him in kisses, he should be pampering them, he doesn’t need all these kisses, wait please don’t stop he will take just one more for the road.

Just tries to act like the cool commander he is, but gets weak in the knees for s/o’s kisses!

[yanderart]

He caught you when no one else did; defeated you when no one else could. Whether you liked to admit it or not, Eraserhead had clearly proven his worth.

So why didn't you prove yours, little villain?

Another portrait for my POV yandere series, this time of Aizawa. Got a few people requesting me to draw/write for him so hopefully y'all enjoy it 🖤

Below the cut, as customary for the series, is a longshot one-shot that delves further into the backstory (Aizawa x Villain Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: dub-con, graphic smut, Bad Bondage Etiquette, degradation/humiliation, brat (villain) taming, cumplay and slight bimbofication. Scumbag Aizawa is real.

— — —

   The day you met Eraserhead, looking back, saying your worries had been misplaced would be an understatement. With not being apprehended and losing street cred at the very top of your list, it was decidedly easy to skip over any of the other big red-lettered warnings.

   You first felt the tickle in your nape while you carried your acquisitions across downtown Musutafu, accompanied by the familiar presage of someone watching your every movement. The city around you was bustling, as was the norm, as loud and meandering in its complaints as a chronically diseased elder, yet the alleys you took as shortcuts grew quieter and quieter with each step. 

   It was eerie, alarming, and a platitude of other adjectives you shamefully chose to neglect. 

   “So this is the great V/N in the flesh,” the lazy cadence of someone calling out your alias froze you mid-step, the way his owner dragged each syllable telling you he hadn’t yet decided whether you were worth wasting his breath on. 

   Your body was responding before you even had a chance to properly process the threat, running on instinct and muscle memory as you twirled to face the mysterious man and prepared to...

   “Cute dress, kid.” Eraserhead in the flesh stood barely a few feet away, glowing scarlet orbs illuminating his preternaturally blank expression and transforming it instead into a visage of pure intimidation. “Didn’t pitch you for the frilly type.”

   The growing panic in your chest put a hitch in your breath as you stared back. Yet you couldn’t help but still try, fruitlessly hoping—hands clenched, nails puncturing your own flesh as you tried to force your dormant quirk awake. And all for naught, considering your efforts were only repaid by the hatchet of your sinking realization being buried even deeper. 

   Although, the Pro-Hero also appeared to notice your meager attempts, taking a few steps closer to your form with a condescending gleam in his otherwise somber features. 

   Before you were conscious of what you were looking at (and before you had half a mind to attempt a quirkless attack on the hero), you observed the weapon wrapped around his neck unfolding fluidly, the extensions of fabric reaching out to envelop you in a forceful embrace that left your arms tucked to your sides and your back uncomfortably straightened. 

   “Better to trap you before you get any wild ideas. It’s your fault you’re in this position in the first place anyways,” he was taunting you, prodding you and poking you as you found yourself completely at his mercy, uselessly struggling much in the same way many of your victims had surely felt in their last few moments at your hands. 

   "Eraserhead," his pseudonym resembled an insult on your tongue, your rage and resentment making for rather colorful enhancements. "Don’t you have anything better to do than trapping helpless girls with this weapon of yours? Didn't peg you for a pervert."

   Usually, you managed to reign in some of your nastier attitudes, channeling them into your quirk and the violence you could inflict with it…

   But tied up and under the influence of his own ability as you were? All you had was pettiness. 

   "You can dress up as a civ all you want. Won't be fooling me." He took several steps, closing the distance between you two with barely the hint of a smile morphing his stern expression.  

   You could see the faint stubble on his handsome face from this up close, blood-shot eyes that refused to blink as they studied you in ample detail. Could even see the scar carved onto one of his cheekbones, a textured promise of the fight he had survived and now wore as a medal. 

   Such was your luck, that the Pro to finally catch up with you had to be this rugged scumbag. 

   "I'm not even engaging in any criminal activities, Eraseridiot." Your insult was terrible, but you were never much of a verbal sparrer. Not when you could use your fists instead. "What are you gonna send me to the pigs for? I know my rights."

   And you did. So when the condescension on the lazy hero's face turned into a full-on expression of mockery as he approached your "bag of acquisitions," you audibly gulped. Goddamn stalker couldn't have been following you for that long? Could he? 

    If only you knew. 

   "Then," he held up the bag with an indolent brand of interest, the contents dangling tauntingly from his clutch. "How do you explain this over here? I reckon even dirt like you knows what stealing qualifies as." His other hand dived for the contents and before you could voice any protest, cheeks blushing furiously, a slow hint of a chuckle was bobbing his adam's apple. "It would be a fun thing to peg you down for, though."

   That damned weapon of his didn't give out an inch as you started to furiously struggle, becoming instead impossibly tighter with each futile attempt at freeing yourself.

   "You fucking psycho, is this your sick way of trying to pick me up or something?"

   But your quip did not deter him at all (if anything, it spurred him on). The hand inside the bag tensed for a moment before he was retrieving the sole object inside. To say mortification was written all over your face would be an understatement. 

   A dark pantyhose now hung from Eraserhead's nimble fingers, not a second being wasted by the Hero before he proceeded to bring it up to his face, carelessly stretching the garment until you could see every single one of his features through the sheer material. The way the moonlight caught in it, bouncing off and bathing his patronizing face, made for uncomfortably intimate imagery. 

   (Yet a part of you, one you would never admit existed if further questioned, also could not help but notice the striking attractiveness of it all, making you want to squirm for completely different reasons while the man continued to exert his quirk on you through the fabric of your fucking lingerie.)

   "Gotta say, didn't take you for a pantyhose kind of gal either. Girls like you…" He uttered the last part more like an afterthought, tossing the bag aside before his hands continued toying with the tights absentmindedly. "Are suited for something like fishnets much more."

   By that point, you were sure he was just playing with you. You were such a harmless joke, restrained and showcased like a prize for his viewing pleasure.

   "Reckon you must own quite a few pairs, uh?" He continued egging you on when you failed to give a timely enough answer. 

   (Perhaps the fact that he so easily guessed that detail should’ve been your first real warning, too.)

   Yet you couldn’t help how his condescension and the downright dirty way he stared at you sent dark shivers up your spine, the threat he represented turning strangely alluring under the dim street lights illuminating you both. 

   As a villain, you had robbed, murdered, set people ablaze, and even stolen a popsicle or two from some crying kids. So why were Eraserhead's words having such an effect on you? Why did, a part of you deep down, seemed enthused by the awful way in which he was speaking to you?

   "You don't have any proof I stole them. I just threw away the receipt after I bought them. Very environmentally unconscious of them, too, when electrical ones are a thing."

   Now you were just rambling. What an adorable sight. 

   "Hmm, never thought I'd hear "environmentally unconscious" being uttered by a two-bit criminal." He stopped stretching the lingerie for a moment, thoughtfully scratching at his incipient stubble with his free hand instead, "Are you really trying to sell me the good samaritan angle?"

   To his credit too, he seemed genuinely puzzled by your approach for an instant. Guess even an experienced pro like him still had room to be shocked. 

   "I'm not trying to sell you anything, imbecile." The snobbishly controlled tone of yours was back, the shaking of panic subsiding while you held onto your only hope of leaving this confrontation unscathed. "And my rights clearly state you need proof to apprehend me. Need causality to exert your quirk on me, too, or you would be the one breaking the law." 

   Now, Eraserhead wasn’t annoyed per se. You could tell from what little he had already spoken (and from the myriad of cautionary tales you had been told) that little could rattle the man at all, but your comment definitely appeared to intrigue him. It made you feel like an animal being studied, pinned down, and ready to be dissected for his own morbid curiosity.

   "Isn't this just rich?" His tone was almost lethargic, words dragging on with a faint rumble. "Are you going to run off to the police, then? Tell them how a Pro trapped you and tried turning you in for a very obvious act of theft?", his eyebrows were raised, eyes more awake despite his monotone voice carrying on. "Be my guest then."

   Because of course you were all bark, no bite and he was more than willing to call you out on your shit. So instead of continuing down that route, you decided to veer for a new approach, switching from your assortment of insolent tactics. 

   "Do you get off on this, then?" Your voice morphing into meekness while you adopted an expression of distress, bottom lip jutting out with the sparkle of thinly veiled sarcasm glimmering in your eyes. "Do you like thinking of yourself as the Big Bad Hero, maybe?" And you could tell by the way the incipient smile froze on his lips that your question had caught him off guard. Made you wanna press even harder, "Do you like the idea of taking a defenseless little girl into an alley and showing her just how bad you can be? Maybe planned on teaching me a lesson, is that it?"

   His frown mimicked yours now, no longer any hints of cruel enjoyment on his part. His eyes still glowed red, but he was now squinting ever so slightly, zeroing in on you not only due to the limits of his quirk but also due to the words rapidly continuing to escape your impudent mouth. 

   "Does Eraserhead like to fuck his lays into being law-abiding citizens? Is the power over someone else what really gets you off, perhaps?"

   It was like a spell was cast on the both of you. He couldn't drift his attention, his eyes couldn't stop scanning your face — quickly flickering from the hatred coloring your gaze to the slight quiver of frustration shaking your lips. The hand which he still used to grab your stockings was now a closed fist, knuckles growing pale from the poorly contained strength.

   "Bet you plotted this entire thing, you creep. Wanted to take me behind an alley and show me my place." Your taunts were becoming increasingly more risqué, the anger blurring your sense of preservation—and the hint of something else too, a secret excitement you were unwilling to recognize. "Wanted to have me all submissive and obedient under you, surely. Show me what a scary hero cock can do, is that it?"

   But instead of earning another entertaining grimace, you had a first-row seat to the rapidly darkening expression on his face. Eyes squinted at the same time that the bandages settled even tighter around you, cutting off your breath for a moment before relenting just enough not to suffocate you. 

    And that's when you first felt it for the first time, just when your jests died on your lips and you drank on his foreboding reaction. The grip of Eraserhead's quirk, more constricting than any ropes, wavering faintly around the prison he had constructed around you; the distinct buzzing in your hands returning for a mere instant before flickering out again.

   Now that was interesting.

   "Should watch what you're saying," the pro-hero sounded gruff, voice tinted by a new kind of intensity.

   Like a shark smelling the smallest whiff of blood, you couldn’t help your instincts urging you to dial down. 

   "Always knew you hero types had a hard-on for the power trips. Bet you were using all of this as a decoy. Is this when you strip me and hold me down? When you plow me into the floor of this alley and tell me to "behave or else"?" 

   You knew your jabs were going too far, getting too brazen… yet as much as you enjoyed making the Pro visibly uncomfortable, once he decided to close the distance between you two there was little you could do to stop yourself from flinching. A fire inhabited his expression, the vivid brightness emanating from his stare not only intimidating, but downright frightening too.

   "Are you trying to rile me up?" His hand gripped your face with force, bandages shifting until they were enveloping your neck, holding you up and forcing you to reciprocate his glare, "What do you think will you achieve by antagonizing me even more, V/N?"

   You just looked at him through your eyelashes, still somehow managing to play up the innocent act through the layers of fear settling in. And as expected, it only served to further his irritation, calloused fingers digging even deeper into your cheeks and coaxing the claws of terror to continue trailing their nails all around you. 

   "I’m just trying to understand you, Eraserhead." The way you smiled at him was defiance personified despite it all, your tongue wetting your lips while you caught his eyes following the movement. There was the slightest give of his quirk again, a fluctuation in his concentration informing you that you were finally on the right track. "And I think, given the fact that I haven’t been cuffed yet, that we can both still come to a mutual agreement."

   Fingers twitched around your jawline, muffling your words while your sides were squished together harshly. But even manhandling you, the Hero couldn’t hide the spark in his eyes, an interest you foolishly believed to be ignited by your former comments. 

   "So you are indeed trying to rile me up then." It was an assertion, not a hint of doubt in his leisure intonation. 

   Instead of replying this time, you just slowly blinked his way, observing your imitation of meekness reflected in a gaze that refused to abandon yours. It had been so long since you last tried to play coy, so long since you needed to depend on anything besides your own strength and ruthlessness. You couldn’t help the thrill you got from playing the role. 

   "Think you’ll get me distracted enough to break away, I bet." He was whispering directly against your skin after getting dangerously closer, the heat from his cushioned lips provoking an involuntary shiver. "Do you believe nobody else tried this approach before, little villain?"

   You gulped, feeling caught before you even had time to properly set the stage. 

   "I wasn’t..."

   "Weren’t what, trying to seduce me?" There was a sense of levity hidden somewhere under his timbre, stored between words that kept dragging on in a mantle of aloofness. "Or did you not mean any of your words?"

   When you didn’t reply, you could feel the cruel smile resurfacing against your earlobe. 

   "If I lift your dress right now, do you think I’ll have my answer?" His question sounded almost casual, as weightless as your alias had been when he first called you out. 

   Your heartbeat sang in your chest, an anxious hummingbird trapped inside your ribcage. Because you knew the answer, you both did. 

   When the hand still clutching your bunched hosiery came up to press the fabric against your thighs, you could not help the gasp that escaped you.

   "I bet all those things you were just saying…" His tone drifted off as the stockings were slowly guided up the vastness of your legs, fingers barely grazing you through the thin layer of the stolen undergarments. He was thoroughly teasing you, enjoying the manner in which your expression contorted in response. "You just want me to do them to you, don’t you?"

   Even if you would’ve wanted to object, the pressure of his nylon-covered digits finally reaching your dampened panties was enough to kill any possible refusal. He traced the outline of your slit, soft touches running across it with deceitful lightness, and your mind became positively staggered as you were rendered overwhelmed by his actions. 

   You didn’t have to worry about his next move for long, either, because barely a moment’s notice passed before his entire palm was eagerly covering your crotch. And the new way in which he groped you was demanding, the heel of his wrist putting just enough pressure to drag a shamefully loud mewl from you. 

   The douchebag even had the gall to laugh at your reaction, the sound of his mirth prompting you to writhe even harder as he continued to feel you up through your rapidly soaking underwear. 

   "Knew you’d be a slutty one." His breath was hoarse against the side of your face, the stubble on his jaw scratching against your skin in a way which made you wonder how it would feel pressing elsewhere. "So fucking wet, it must hurt being this eager."

   He didn’t specify what exact kind of pain he meant, whether your growing need for release or the insufferable blow all of this represented to your pride. Somehow, though, you had an inkling that he was referencing both. 

   "Wanna show me just how needy you are?" His words echoed with each laboured breath of his, one of the few signs you had that he was clearly very much into the whole affair despite his detached demeanor. "Maybe you could show me more of your adorable little cries." 

   As Eraserhead rutted his palm against you another time, you found your hips lowering down to chase the feeling much to your own chagrin, more moans making their way out of your panting mouth while he coaxed you to sing the notes of his preferred melody. 

   It was true that you hated his guts… but another fact was that you hadn’t had action in a long while either. Even with the threat of imprisonment hanging over you, you could not deny how desirable the idea to get to cum against that veiny hand of him was, to grip those muscular shoulders as you reached the perdition he was so tantalizingly offering. 

   Decidedly forgotten was your plan of you being the one distracting him. For fuck’s sake, you really were a needy whore. 

   "Why not show me how you cum for me in this alley, if you’re really that desperate?" His words kept getting cruder, his tongue tracing a languid stripe from your earlobe down to the side of your neck, a beautiful path of distractions threatening to dip your sanity even lower. "Be the dirty little villain that I know you are, doll."

   But just as soon as the stimulation was hitting you a second time, so it suddenly disappeared. One second fingers were flexing against your tender flesh, coated by your arousal through the layers of fabric separating you and fluttering with the promise of an impending release, and then the very next instant you were left to whimper (a villain like you, actually whimpering!) in the unbearable wake of their absence. 

   When your eyes searched for the Hero’s again, in his blown out pupils you could only dare interpret part of the enjoyment he was getting from watching you scram for his touch, beautifully bold handwriting spelling out arousal for all to read.  

   Watching you so easily betray your own ego after all of your lip service? More than simple music to his ears, it was an entire sonnet. 

   "But, now that I think of it, you were the one trying to walk away free from this. So why should you be the one getting pleasured?"

   Even in your precarious situation, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 

   "Are you fucking kidding me?" Apparently, your discomfort at being denied was enough to forego your better senses.

   The bindings contracted around you in quick response to your insolence, your neck being craned even further and your arms mishandled until they were behind your back instead of at your sides, a sharp pain blooming from your shoulders as you struggled to adjust.

   Treated like this, he really did make you feel like a helpless little doll. (Goddamn, that thought alone was enough to have your juices gushing again, the trails of your excitement starting to make a mess of your inner thighs.)

   "You don’t get it, do you?" He asked in a despondent voice, unblinking eyes still refusing to abandon your face as he elaborated, "you should already be on your way to some second-rate villain prison, cuffed and muzzled and someone else’s problem."

   At his reminder of what you believed to be your impending fate, the mocking pout on your face transformed into a retelling of real horror. Because your spotless reputation was the one trick in your book that had managed to give you a sliver of notoriety over the rest of the unremarkable criminals, much more significant than any quirk or grandiose crime. 

   So for someone like you to lose that? You might as well hang up the villain costume and retire, for all anyone would care. (And yes, you had been called an attention whore a lot throughout your life, but who could blame you when you couldn’t help but thrive on it?)

   Sensing your spiraling thoughts, the Pro raised his eyebrows in an almost pitiful stint, as if he was truly empathizing with the agonized look of your face. 

   "I know you don’t want that, doll." As his declaration dragged on, the grip that had been steadying your jaw was swapped instead for the peculiar feeling of damp fabric —your pantyhose being pushed against your cheek and spreading your own juices around, all while Eraserhead intently studied the new wave of disgust coloring your features. "So why not show me that even a villain slut like you can behave? Give me a reason to believe that and..." The slickered garment was now pressing to your closed lips, your eyes starting to water with the weight of the humiliation you were being made to endure. "Maybe then I’ll consider letting you go."

    You knew he was lying, had every right to doubt the sincerity of his promise and, in its place, conclude he just meant to take advantage of you in your desperate state and then leave you for the pigs to find anyway. 

    You knew all of that, and yet you still opened your mouth and allowed him to do as he pleased. When he worked the pair of soiled stockings inside, you had troubles recognizing the pathetic sight being reflected your way from the wild hue of his gaze. 

   For someone who had always prided herself in being a predator, you had never looked more like prey.

   "Fuck, that’s it, doll." He pushed the piece further with his fingers, forcing you to stretch your lips until your jaw started to hurt from the strain. His fingers swirled inside, pressing the soaked material against the flat of your tongue and instructing you to eagerly lick it.

   You had never felt as debased in your entire life, being forced to choose between savoring your own arousal while tied up in an alley or ruining a reputation you had fought so earnestly to maintain. 

   (And yet your thighs were pressing together now, attempting to create some meager friction to alleviate a yearning that did nothing but shift, demand, grow.)

   "Look at you cleaning up your own mess," he almost sounded proud of you as you kept dutifully sucking, his other hand brushing your hair away from your shoulders in a strangely consoling way. "Seeing you all obedient like this, one could be fooled into thinking there is yet hope for reform."

   By the time the Hero finally took his hand away, bunching up the stockings before fitting them into one of the hidden pockets of his dark costume, you thought you could discern a mocking smile through the clouds of tears.

   "But now, now, doll… are you gonna keep crying or do you wanna try and take proper care of me next?"

   Not finding it in yourself to raise your voice again, you instead opted to wet your lips hesitantly as you awaited for him to elaborate further. There was a question dying to be asked, struggling somewhere alongside the myriad of insolent retorts and insults you wished you could swing the Hero’s way without being harshly reprimanded. 

   "I wouldn’t call that proper exactly," a chuckle reverberated from the back of his throat, gravely and dark as he misrepresented your movements. Fingers still slick from your saliva caressed your bottom lip, massaging it in a way which played straight into the undermining tilt of his words. "Although I’m sure you must be dying to wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Would give you a good reason to stay quiet, uh?"

   You really had been intending not to fall for his obvious goading, not trying to give the Pro anymore reasons to be harsh with you (or even worse, give him an excuse to leave you alone and to a fate worse than his company ever would be). 

   Had tried so hard too, but the cocky villain in you could only take so much degradation before it snapped. 

   "Goddamn it, are you trying to fuck me or bore to death?" As for the slight quivering in your voice, you dearly hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it. 

   Predictably enough, that slip earned you another harsh tug from the capture weapon, your whole body pulled back until you thought you were about to be snapped. 

   "I was just about to praise you for being all sweet for me, V/N." The switch from his pet names to your alias felt like a bucket of ice being dumped on you, voice a slow drawl while he tugged once more from your bottom lip, but this time harsh enough to have you wincing. "I’m trying to teach you how to be a proper girl, so don’t make me regret it. Or would you prefer to go take a prolonged vacation in a holding cell?"

   He already knew your answer judging by the way his eyes coldly studied you, unearthing the secrets you uselessly attempted to hide with an ease that unnerved you (and, as much as you loathe to admit, fascinated you). 

   When he tugged at your mouth again, nails sinking just enough to be noticeable, you knew he was expecting a verbal answer. And a nice one, at that. 

   "Then fucking get on with it…" Words slurred at the end, caught up in the increasingly somber aura of your captor before you swallow thickly, quickly adding as an afterthought, "Please."

   At that, his scowl receded enough for some satisfaction to find its way back into his grimace.

   The more you struggled, the sweeter your surrender became.  

   "Not perfect, but better," he conceded with a thoughtful hum.

   If you had properly studied just who he was beyond his active Heroism, then you would’ve understood just how accustomed he was to insubordination. If anything, your act only served to make him feel more at home.

   You had barely any time to wonder about whatever he had planned next though, because in an instant that damned contraction of his was moving you around once more, twisting you until you were facing the brick wall of the alleyway with heaving breaths. 

   Your legs were now maneuvered until you were forced to keep them apart just a smidgen, the new inviting space between your thighs surely a most intoxicating promise for the sick man manhandling you. And your back experienced pain afterwards too, harshly pushed until you had no option but to allow yourself to be pressed against the dirty walls; As a result, you found yourself with your ass backed up and for the world to see, the frilly skirt of your dress caught somewhere between all the movements.

   Yet even being roughed up as you were, when a hand reached out to tug your ruined underwear away you couldn't help greedily rutting into it, too worried by the fire gathering in your lower belly to care about maintaining a semblance of the reluctance you would later claim to have experienced. 

   It was almost comical for the Hero to observe the pathetic image you were now serving up on an ornate platter —especially when compared to the list of deviant crimes and horrors your spreadsheet of accomplishments preached. For all intents and purposes, you really were a horrible, messed up individual…

   So it was a wonder why his mind had kept supplying him with the same descriptor ever since he first saw you, the same sweet little word that he thought might as well be written all over your skin for how accurate it described you.

   A cute little doll (soon to be his cute little doll). Despite believing himself to be a fairly responsable Hero, the man had never wanted to play with anything as much as he did with you.

   The sound of a zipper being lowered was alarmingly loud in the emptiness of your surroundings, as loud as a wail to your sensitive ears. When you squirmed below your restraints, nonetheless, you could no longer pinpoint whether it was from unadulterated fear or a sick sense of anticipation.

   How easy it had been to break you, even if you would never recognize it openly.

   "Knew you were into it, and now watch your ass trembling in excitement for me." He was chuckling again, not pretending like the cruelty coating his words had any other intention but to degrade you further. It had been just his luck, to find the one villain who just so happened to enjoy it. "I really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, doll?"

   When the lewd sound of one of his fists pumping his cock reached your ears, you didn’t even bother disguising the whines of complaint refusing to be contained any longer. 

   "Stop..." Words spilled from clenched teeth, growled out with an annoyance that no longer sought to defy, "Fucking..." but to demand instead, "Teasing."

   "Hmm, that’s cute. Why don’t you try begging me though?" His cadence was growing as bated as his breath, littered by intermittent curses as his eyes dined on the sight of your glistening core, held up and offered up for him to do as he pleased. "Beg for me to use you, and if you put on a good enough show I might just let you off."

   Another shiver rampaging it's way through your body, an exhilaration that could not be entirely pinpointed. 

   "Please…" You started, rough intonation dripping with venom —But Eraserhead didn't seem to mind the sardonic nature of your pleading though, not as you heard the litany of damnations being spilled from his lips. Your shameful excitement, your bitterness, your hatred… he would feast on it all and do it gladly. "Get on with it, bastard. Didn't anyone tell you never to toy with your food?"

   A low murmur was your only response at first, followed by the lewd sound of his pre-cum covered cock being harshly jerked.

   "Hmmm, aren't you being a bit too demanding…" His steps echoed again behind you, his unoccupied hand coming up to massage your ass with a rather firm grip. "Even with the begging, I don't think you've learned your place yet."

    When he planted a slap in the same place he had been eagerly caressing before, sharp and flaring up your nerves with the sting of pain and humiliation, you couldn't stop your scream from turning into a wanton little moan halfway through. 

   Even if he was hitting you, it still meant he was touching you, and so enticingly close to the place you actually needed tended to.

   "Do it…" your breathing was too heavy to speak in full fluid sentences, body flushed and mind filled with the buzzing of desire. "Do it again, fuck."

   You were still not begging him like he asked, but it seemed like your choice of words still greatly pleased him. Another slap rained on your ass, his big warm palm massaging the same reddening spot right after.

   And he kept going, the spanking echoing through your body and sending both pain and pleasured shivers up your spine—lewd sounds mixing in with the increasing pace of his other fist pumping his cock. Even without directly touching you, your pussy clenched and weeped with each firm hit. 

   "Damn, it's my first time meeting such a masochistic whore." Punctuated by his most painful slap yet, the globes of your ass left trembling and a furious shade of crimson to match his lust-filled eyes. "I can see why you've managed to stay free for so long, little villain." The debasement, paired with the pain of his firm strikes, had you moaning even louder. You couldn't even recognize your own sounds, nor the thrills you felt at this entire fucked up ordeal. "Wonder how many other Pros you showed this beautiful sight to."

   Even through the fog of sensations impeding you from being wholly coherent, though, you still couldn't help but want to set the record straight. 

   "None, fuck…" Words merging into another expectant whine when you felt his hand gripping your flesh again, only this time he was kneading you in an oddly tender way —Urging you on, fingers creeping closer to your needy hole. "I'm not… usually in the business of fucking Heroes. Shit, I hate this…" 

   But you didn’t, and when you were surprised by the warmth of his naked erection barely grazing the sensitive outer lips of your cunt, you couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped you. 

   "Goddamn, V/N, even while you're an ill-mannered brat you still manage to know just what to say." 

   And then the older man was sliding his cock in the juncture of your thighs, teasing your core by pressing against it while grunts began to escape him. You thought you could cry from having him so close yet still not where you wanted him, but then his shallow thrusts against your legs proved to be much more stimulating than you first expected. 

   The fat head of his cock even managed to somewhat stimulate your puffy clit with its movements, pushing in its direction as your essence continued to leak out and cover you both. And It was so absolutely debauched, to think a Hero was using your thighs like a fucktoy while you were tied down and unable to stop it....

   But it felt so good. Even without him actually in you, you had never been this turned on before. 

   "More… ughhh," you were now screaming with the side of your face pressed flush against the disgusting brick walls, needy sounds filling the night and making it privy to your descent into madness.

   Another thrust, this time angled just precisely enough not to caress your pleasurable areas. Punishment, you feverishly thought while you attempted to wiggle your ass, eager to force more of that delicious friction you were quickly becoming hypnotized by. 

   "Now, V/N," his gruff voice had adopted a mocking tone of reprimand as he continued to rut against the soft skin of your thighs. "Haven't I taught you anything, yet? If you want something…" The hand returned to your heated skin, digits underneath you both spreading your pussy enough for the chilly night air to send shivers straight to your core. "You gotta say please."

   And say please you did. Screamed it even, so eager for more and already far beyond feeling any embarrassment. 

   He didn't fuck you, not like you really wanted, but suddenly his thick shaft was sliding between your lips as his capture weapon aided him in angling your body just right, pulsing against your hole while he found a new rythimn. When both of his hands returned, one of them held you back to make the process even easier while the other swiftly joined his cock in tending to your eager pussy.

   So lost were you in the new raw excitement seizing you, in the knowledge of just how messed up you both were for engaging in such debauchery —so distracted that you didn't even notice the faint buzzing returning to your arms, the vibrancy of an old frequency being reactivated and allowed to encapsulate you again.

   (You didn’t notice, but fuck if it didn’t made your orgasm all the sweeter.) 

   You were cumming like that, your moans resembling squeaks, your body feeling closer to a used fucktoy than a human being. The hero kept rutting against you, the joint efforts of his cock and hand mercilessly continuing to abuse your spasming cunt while your cries filled the space with their decadence. 

   You felt dirty, guilty, maybe even a little ashamed as the orgasm briefly gave you a clarity of mind your arousal had clouded.

   And yet, despite it all, it had been the best you felt in years, possibly ever. As the Pro now tugged your hair, forcing you to wrench your neck just enough to look at him over your shoulder, you couldn't help licking your lips in expectation of what he had in store next.

   "You're gonna show me your face next time you come, little villain." He gave you just enough time to nod, eyebrows drawn as your pleasure got impossibly dragged out by the stimulation he still bathed you with. "And you're gonna keep begging me, keep showing me why you deserve to stay free, okay?"

   It was commendable, how collected he managed to sound while thrusting into your thighs like that, the sounds of skin slapping against skin driving each of his words home. 

   "Yes, fuck, whatever you want…" Despite your senses shortly coming back earlier, you were still too far gone to rethink your poor choices. You just knew you wanted more, and so you asked for it. "Just give me more, please."

   So fucking obedient. If your parents could see you know, their failure of a villain daughter being all proper and learning to beg for what she wanted? Well, perhaps saying they'd be proud was a stretch, considering you were also the one getting fucked in the middle of a filthy alley. 

   What you hadn’t expected, however, was just how well your begging would work. 

   Because the next thrust of his shaft was not between your legs, but aimed to finally breach your needy cunt instead, easily filling you up in one go with how utterly soaked in both of your juices you already were. The girth of him had you already clenching with renewed vigor, his hand stopping his assault on your clit just to give you enough time to truly savor the new intoxicating sensation.

   And when your eyes found his again, so drunk on the waves of pleasure you were that you also failed to notice the lack of scarlet coloring the orbs boring into yours, now inescapable voids of dark desire and a type of intense fixation you thought hadn't been there moments ago. 

   (Or maybe it was always there, and you had been too busy with your own turmoil to notice the clues being left by your so-called enemy).

   "Want me to stuff you properly?" His guttural question hit you at the same time as his sharp movements found your tender spot with experienced ease, walls tightening around him while your entire body struggled to continue holding yourself upright, relying more and more on the capture weapon to keep you from toppling over. 

   The binds still hurt from how tightly they wrapped around you, bruises sure to be left on their wake, but by that point you weren't so sure anymore the sting was an entirely bad thing. If anything, it just made the pleasure all the sweeter by comparison.  

   "Want me to fill you with so much cum that you reek of hero cock for the rest of the week?" He laughed while he regurgitated some of your words from earlier, the hand pressing against your lower stomach caressing you with a distinct sense of ownership as he elicited another loud moan with a sharp movement of his hips. 

   Noticing you reacting not only to his actions but to his quips, you could practically hear the self congratulatory smirk as he spoke next.

   "Bet the other villains would love knowing how much of a cockhungry whore you turned into too, doll. Talk about fraternizing with the enemy."

   And he was right, in a way. Because what would your fellow villains think, seeing you being wrecked by one of the most infamous Pros in the business, lowering yourself to pleading and screaming as he rearranged your insides. 

   Would you get called a disloyal whore or just a plain traitor? Not only would your spotless reputation and the myth you had fought to build collapse, but from its ashes your eternal shame could be erected. 

   A shame that would tower over you, looming around you while the eyes of your peers followed you everywhere. You could even picture the jests veered your way, the looks of utter disgust and ridicule...

   Somehow, the idea of anyone finding out only made your screams grow louder, impossibly more fervent. 

   "Fucking… get on with it."

   However, his rhythm was rapidly interrupted after your jab, his cock pulling out almost entirely as your core convulsed with the sudden staggering emptiness it was left to grapple with. More whimpers, struggling against the set of eternally unforgiving ties encasing your body. 

   "But you're making me do all the work, little one" Another slap shook your entire frame as it landed heavily on your still pained cheeks. You were so sore, both from the previous set of hits and from the sheer exhaustion starting to set in, muscles tight and resentful from the awkward positions your body had been manhandled into. "If you really want to continue this, how about you start doing some of the heavy lifting, uh?" Just like before, his palm started massaging the tender spot he had just smacked, fingers digging into your supple flesh being as close to comforting as the Pro seemed capable of. "Show me just how good you can be."

   And you could've argued, truly, could've even attempted to hold onto the last vestiges of your pride…

   You could’ve done a lot of things, but the truth was that when his weapon relented its hold at last, retreating from the underside of your knees and giving in just a smidge for the first time since you had been captured, you didn't waste any seconds before you were chasing after your high with renewed vigor.

   Greedily sinking into him with an obscene sigh, you audibly marveled at the curve of his member being deliciously imprinted in your insides. While you copied the cadence the Hero had previously employed, his grip on your lower belly fluttered, almost like he couldn't decide whether to take control back or allow you to humiliate yourself further with your own zealousness. 

   It seemed like the later prospect won him over in the end though, because he remained almost impassively still as you did all the work needed to bring you both deliriously close to your peaks. 

   The sight must've been spectacular, watching you, renown villain V/N, so thoroughly broken and willing to heed his every command. Impaling yourself on his cock, moaning and continuing to beg him for something you were already taking for yourself. 

   If he died right then and there, he doubted Heaven wouldn't have as much appeal as the scene still unfolding before his eyes. (But again, considering his actions, Heaven wouldn't really be the right place for either of you.)

   You were just about to reach your second orgasm, toes curling inside your shoes, fists clenched and a face that spelt poetic extasis. Angling the way you took his cock, every single movement driving him painstakingly deeper, slamming against a spot that made you imagine the stars falling from the sky all around you, their light being the one bathing you instead of the malfunctioning street lamps. 

   So goddamn close…

   Only to have him pull out again, this time completely. You were clenching against nothing, all stimulation stolen from you, and the bitterness of a ruined orgasm promptly dragged curses and complaints out of you before you could even think to stop them. 

   Eyes searched his, urgently seeking an explanation for his withdrawal only to find his glare fixated instead on that same dirty pair of stockings that had started it all. 

   Eraserhead must have taken the garment out of his pocket sometime while he fucked you, unfolding it from its scrunched up state until the crotch was visibly presented for both of you to admire, dark sheer fabric still stained from a mix of your arousal and spit. 

   When the Pro looked at you again, a beautifully dark smile topped his attractive face. He looked painfully content, the way he studied your own mortified expression reminding you of an artist studying his masterwork. 

   "Only the truly obedient ones get their cunts filled." You noticed then how his other hand was jerking him off again, erection rubbing against the nylon undergarments in a most obscene depiction. Too bad you were too frustrated to appreciate any of it. "I don't think you've… hell, you haven't earned it yet, V/N."

    You didn't even notice you were tearing up from the annoyance until it was too late. And maybe that was what finally did it, seeing you actually crying at his refusal to breed you like the slut you both knew you were, writhing in exaggerated despair as you found yourself feeling jealous of a stupid pair of tights, because not long after your pathetic reaction the man was letting out a pained groan of his own and spilling himself all over the damned garment. 

   But instead of rubbing your wailing in your face after he came down from his own delicious high, last few spurts of cum slowing down to a halt, you were surprised instead by the weapon that had been binding you for the longest time finally retreating.

   As expected, you unceremoniously collapsed to the floor, feet now unprepared for supporting your weight and your entire being wholly exhausted after enduring the roughest fuck you had ever experienced. It hurt all over, although you weren't sure whether your still present longing wasn't what pained you the most. 

   When you looked up to the Pro again, trying to find an answer to the new freedom you were experiencing, you were surprised by having the cum-dripped stockings thrown in your face. 

   And quite literally so, the still wet seed dribbling down your cheek and into your trembling lips, all before you collected enough wits to grab the offending item and pull it down with an expression of unadulterated disgust. 

   "Sorry, doll, but you were pouting so irresistibly," The Eraser user actually laughed, this time the sound coming with an untroubled merriment you did not think he was capable of.

   He actually looked worn out while he tucked himself back into his costume, accommodating the pieces of clothing until all hints from your ravenous affair disappeared. The bandages were wrapping themselves around his neck once more, looking more like an extravagant scarf than the most precise set of inmovilazing gear you had ever endured. 

   However, something about his attitude had you forgetting all about his newest slight, much too worried by a new cause of worry. 

   "Hold on..."

   Eraserhead looked down at you from his place after you raised your voice, urging you to continue as he finished getting himself presentable. The air of nonchalance around him was almost more intimidating than any of the actual threats or vulgar comments he had voiced prior. Almost.

   "Are you…" you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, voice still raspy and hoarse after what had just transpired. "Are you really letting me go?"

   The man just raised one of his eyebrows at that, eyes crinkling for the first time and looking strangely amused. 

   "Doll, I stopped exerting my quirk on you while I was still teasing you good and proper," he declared bluntly. When his orbs glimmered again, you now felt like an imbecile as you finally realized they had completely lost the reddish hue to them. "So you know what? I thought you deserved to get an out of jail free card for behaving yourself… even if you still need to work some more on your manners."

   To call your shocked expression dumbfounded would be a disservice. 

   When his now bottomless eyes bore into yours for one final time, all you could do was stare back in dazzled shock. Your quirk was back, the Pro himself had just confirmed it, and yet you were still nailed to the spot, still anticipating his next words without even thinking of attacking him in the meantime.

   One little tumble and you were already his brightest pupil yet. He was now so glad to have waited that long, it only made the outcome all the more fulfilling. 

   "You don’t need to be so surprised, Y/N, we'll be seeing each other soon,” He kneeled in front of you for an instant, both hands reaching out to hold up your face in a gesture more resembling a lover than… well, whatever the hell you two were. So entranced you were then, that the use of your real name barely even registered. “It’s been difficult to keep you away from trouble thus far,” his acknowledgment reverberated in the alley, its meaning something else lost to you as you couldn’t help but become entranced by the new peculiar softness he addressed you with, “but getting you like this now, seeing you break so easily… fuck, I’ll mold you right back up, doll, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

   And just then, for the first time you realized, the Hero’s lips were brushing against yours gently, uncharacteristically careful as he kissed you slowly. Even his hands were tender while they guided you, treating you as if you truly were a doll that could just be snapped with a mere wrong movement. As if he hadn’t just been treating you like a dirty hole for him to use and abuse just short instants ago. 

   But at least he did not seem to care about the mess that was your face at the moment, about the cum stains or the still damp trails of tears. And, for whatever reason, you found yourself returning the gesture in kind, melting into the oddly affectionate touch of a man you were still halfway sure you loathed. 

   Even after he left you, alone and a mess still toppled over on the floor with the shadow of humiliation cloaking your shoulders, your fingers couldn’t help but touch your lips with a bizarre mixture of bewilderment and horror.

   He told me I would see him soon, your mind supplied as you found yourself irreparably fixating your stare on the pair of now completely ruined tights you were still holding onto. The fact that you felt any type of excitement about the notion did not fail to mortify you. 

   God, even for villain standards you were fucked. 

But it was okay, because misery loved company and, with time at his disposal and the right amount of coaching, Shouta was sure he could teach you to properly crave his soon enough.

— — — 

And, 8k of foul smut later, if y’all read through that whole thing... drop by my ask to recieve your congratulatory gold stars! ⭐ (jk but I do appreciate hearing y’alls thoughts, it’s what keeps me halfway productive 🖤)

Last but not least, very special thanks to my best pals @reinawritesbnha​, @snappysnapo​ and @drxwsyni​ (who actually proof read this and helped me out immensely with her Big Brain Feedback. A TALENTED ANGEL). 

[maddiwrites]

Secret Lives

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You and JJ never got along so your friends trap the two of you on a boat in the middle of the marsh to work it out. Only it doesn’t go as planned.

Note: Hi guys! This is my first writing piece. I tried not to do a two parter for my first one but it ended up being so long. Sorry! I would love to hear your feedback so feel free to leave me a message! Part two will be posted soon. Also I have completed a rewrite of the show with a JJ x Routledge sister pairing so keep an eye out for that! Also wanna shout out @skiesofthesketchy​ @malfoyfarms​ @collecting-stories​ because they were some of the first masterlists I read and I loved them and it inspired me to write my own. So thank you!

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, angst, very slight mentions of abuse

Part 2

Y/N Y/L/N. That’s you. Or as some like to call you, Hannah Montana. You live the best of both worlds, living it up on Figure Eight and wearing hundred dollar dresses to fancy dinners and parties, sneaking expensive mimosas to brunches with your friends, and getting biweekly mani pedi’s with your sister. Meanwhile, when you’re not rolling around in the luxuries of Kook Life, you’re rolling around in the dirt with your Pogue friends, baking in the sun on a dirty small boat while drinking the cheapest beer one of the boys’ could get their hands on. Most Kooks hated you even when they wanted to be you. And most Pogues didn’t trust you even as they tried getting in your pants.

One of them being JJ Maybank.

Kiara introduced you to her group of friends right after freshman year. The two of you were the black sheep of Kook Academy. Both your families have money, sure. But you weren’t jerks about it. You enjoy a little pampering here and there, but you’re not tone deaf and superficial like the rest of your peers. You were so grateful that your science teacher paired you two together for that year’s science fair. You instantly clicked with the curly brunette and spent most of the class talking about whatever came to mind instead of actually brainstorming project ideas. After working together for months on a science fair project with a shared passion of wanting to help save the environment, Kie finally introduced you to her best friends.

John B and Pope immediately made you feel like one of the group. Sure, they were curious about your life but you never felt like you were being interrogated with questions. They included you on inside jokes and even gave you the nickname ‘Sassy’ after proving to them that you can hold your own in a verbal fight.

Thanks to JJ.

From the start he claimed to never like you. He hated where you were from, who your parents were, and that you never had a job. He hated that you didn’t even have to try to get people to like you. In his eyes, everything was handed to you on silver platter. You had a picture perfect life and all you had to do was bat your eyelashes and show off your pearly white teeth. He couldn’t stand you.

Yet, he was dangerously attracted to you.

He loved the way your hair shined against the setting sun, he loved that you didn’t wear makeup every single day like every other Kook on the island, he loved how your white jean shorts perfectly shaped your curves, and he loved how your temper was as equally as short as his because it made you fighting with him that much hotter.

Last night was no different than every other night with you and your friends. It was quiet, spent around a bonfire in John B’s back yard. You sipped on cheap beer from the can while the smell of JJ’s marijuana smoke wafted through the air. Kie lightly strummed the strings of her ukulele while Pope and JJ bickered about the pros and cons of smoking weed.

This was your family. You had friends on the other side of the island too but you weren’t as close as you were with the Pogues. You would do anything for the people surrounding you. Even JJ. You tried to tell yourself you hated him just as much as he hated you, but you couldn’t help but feel like every other girl on this island, falling for his ocean blue eyes and golden locks. His wit and his charm. His loyalty and protectiveness of his friends. How he looked with his shirt off. How he would wink at you when he caught you staring. You wished you didn’t, but you loved him.

“Hellooo, Y/N?” John B waved his hand in front of your face. You hadn’t even realized you’d been staring.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

John B smirked but didn’t say what he was thinking. He always thought you and JJ were acting dumb when it was clear as day that the two of you were attracted to each other. He always caught you two staring at one another when the other wasn’t looking. You two would always ask about the other person when they weren’t there even if it was just to throw a sharp jab behind their back.

“I asked you what you were up to this weekend.”

“Oh,” You shrugged. “Probably run some errands, babysit my neighbor’s kids...”

Just like Hannah Montana, you also lived a secret life. Your life wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought it was, but you’d never admit to it. Your mother would be crushed, your friends would find you stupid and pathetic, and you would hate yourself even more than you already did.

“Good. Sunday we’re going to check out the surfing competition on Seasill Beach. JJ’s trying to qualify for it next year.”

Your smile immediately dropped. “Sunday. Oh.”

“Already got a spa day planned, Princess?” JJ smirked from across the way.

“I, uh,” You tried your best to fake a grin. “I’m sorry. I can’t go. I already have plans.”

You held you breath as you waited for someone to respond. This was the third time this month you flaked on your friends without a good explanation. You never knew what to tell them, only that you had plans. You were afraid if you said anything else, they’d find out you were lying.

“Again?” Kie stopped playing her ukulele to look at you. “Seriously. Is there some secret boy we should know about or something?”

You scoffed. “No.”

You felt the most guilty lying to Kie. After all she was your best friend. The one you were supposed to be able to share everything with, even the stuff you couldn’t tell your parents.

“Kie’s right. You bailed on us last week last minute too,” Pope said.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your head wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie.

“We all knew this day would come.” JJ’s smirk was gone. He flicked the butt of his joint into the fire and claps off the ash from his hands. “Hannah Montana dips her toes into the wild life. She feels free and independent long enough to decide she’d rather go back to her cookie cutter life and live with all the privilege that daddy has to offer.”

The word ‘daddy’ physically made you flinch. Your eyes narrowed in a tight glare as you dug your fingernails into the palm of your hand, hating that this was the way JJ thought of you.

“J...” John B tried to warn him but JJ didn’t listen.

“No, seriously.” JJ stood up. “I bet the reason she’s not telling us what all her ‘plans’ are is because she knows you’ll all be disappointed. Me? Well, I couldn’t care less whether you hung out with us or not. In fact, I’ve been praying for it. So tell us, Y/N, what are you doing that you won’t tell us? If it’s not some dude, then maybe you decided you’d rather be a Kook. Are you going to fancy lunches and riding yachts across the ocean? Maybe you’re spitting in the faces of the people who work to make your life easier. Maybe -”

“JJ!” Kie yelled.

You stood up, your vision turning red and your skin going hot. Usually you could take JJ’s insults. You were use to JJ throwing your family’s money in your face, trying to make you feel bad for something you can’t control, but this was too much. Because now he was calling you out on your loyalty to your friends. And he was so far from the truth.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You said. The other three stood up when you took a step in JJ’s direction. John B stood close to you. He didn’t know what you were going to do, but he’s never heard your voice so low and threatening in a long time. The other time was with a Kook who was giving JJ shit. Ironically. “For me to just leave.”

“I didn’t stutter, did I?”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but I’m not going anywhere. In fact, because I’m such a nice friends, I’m going to give you some free advice. First, the last thing you want to question me about is my loyalty to the people who’s lives I would put before my own. Second, I would suggest removing that stick up your ass because it seems like your way too uptight to handle it.”

JJ glared at you and didn’t move to respond. A part of you was surprised he didn’t have anything to come back with and the other part of you was relieved.

The thick tension between you and your friends was suffocating. Your night had been effectively ruined by a simple question. But the sad part is, you didn’t even know who to blame. JJ, or the other man causing most of your guilt and grief.

“Y/N/N...” Kie tried stopping you as you gathered your stuff to leave.

“I’m out of here.”

You stormed out of the backyard and into your car. There was only so much you could take until you broke. And you were not going to give JJ Maybank the satisfaction of seeing you break.

                                            ***********************

You couldn’t fall asleep last night. JJ’s words kept replaying in your head like a bad song stuck on replay. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to blame him for not trusting you. But instead, you hated yourself. Because you’re the reason he can’t trust you. Cause you have secrets you don’t want shared.

Your thumb hovered over his contact. Not JJ’s. The man who’s made your life a living hell for the last sixteen years. You wanted to scream and cry and slap him in his face. But instead, you stayed frozen in fear. Like the little pathetic girl he says you are. And you hated yourself more for proving him right.

Your attention was taken away when someone busted through your bedroom door out of breath. Kie immediately went to your drawers and pulled out the first bathing suit she could find and threw it at you.

“Kie -”

“We need to go,” She said. “Get dressed.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Pope and John B ran out of gas doing grocery runs for Heyward. We need to get them with the HMS Pogue.”

“Where’s JJ? Why can’t he help you?”

“He’s working,” Kie said quickly. “Come on.”

                                           ***********************

You and Kie found Heyward’s boat stranded in the middle of the marsh like Kie said it would be. John B and Pope were waiting for you on the back and thanking you both for coming to help. You hold the gas as they helped you onto the boat. They directed you to the tank while they helped Kie.

As soon as you made your way to the front of the boat, you heard the engine of the Pogue rev and take off. You dropped the gasoline gallon and sprinted to the back of the boat where they left you. John B and Pope waved back to you as Kie drove them back to the Chataeu.

“What the hell?” You yelled at them to come back.

“You and JJ need to work your shit out!” John B yelled back to you.

“What...” You mumbled to yourself before you heard the sound of heavy footsteps running towards you. You gasp in surprise when a sweaty JJ passed you to glare at the boat that’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.

“What the fuck?” He screamed.

“There’s food and blankets in the cabin!” Pope yelled back.

“We’ll come get you in the morning,” Kie said.

You clenched your teeth together with frustration. JJ looked just as pissed off and small part of you was disappointed with that. He turned around, cursing to himself and hitting random shit in his way.

This was going to be a long day.

                                           ***********************

After four hours, you and JJ still hadn’t spoken to each other. He took over the cabin while you laid out on the back of the boat. Your head was running with different thoughts. Should you try to make up with JJ? Should you just continue to ignore him? Should you tell him why you can’t go to the surfing competition tomorrow?

You didn’t know what to do but you knew you couldn’t sit here in silence anymore.

You reluctantly stood in front of him with crossed arms. He was smoking a blunt and looking out into the setting sun. If you were friends, you would take a picture of him right now. The pink sky painted his skin perfectly.

“What?” He said without looking at you.

“Seriously?” You raised one brow. “We’re asked to do one thing on this boat and that’s all you have to say?”

“I’m not sorry for what I said last night.”

“Neither am I.”

“Fine.”

You rolled your eyes. The problem with both of you was that you’re both stubborn. But if the problem with JJ couldn’t be fixed today, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to put up with his rude remarks and assumptions about you.

“What the hell is your problem?” You said.

“My problem?”

“Yeah. Your problem. You’ve been treating me like shit ever since Kie introduced me to you. What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so goddamn much?”

JJ shook his head in annoyance. “I’m not doing this.”

He got up and walked to the back of the boat where you were sulking not even five minutes ago. You followed him like the stubborn person you were and you continued to grill him.

“I’ve tried so hard to be your friend. I’ve bought you drugs, I’ve even done yours and JB’s laundry. I put in a good word to the tourons who ask about you at boneyard parties. I laugh at your jokes, even when they’re about my friends. I try so hard to be on your good side and you still want nothing to do with me!”

“Because you’re a Kook!”

“So?”

“You have everything. Money, family, friends, a future. I don’t trust you because I don’t know what the hell you want with us. What do we possibly have that you can’t get on Figure Eight? Hm? Are you trying to prove a point to your mom that you don’t need her? You trying to prove to your dad that you’re a tough girl and don’t need his money or protection to keep you safe? Huh?”

“You know what your problem is? You don’t listen! I’ve told you time and time again that I don’t care about any of those things. I hang out with you guys because you are my friends. I have a good time when I’m with you. Why is that so hard for you to get?”

JJ scoffed. “Please. You don’t think I see you constantly checking your cell phone? Making sure no one can see who you’re texting? If we’re such good friends, why won’t you tell us what you’re doing tomorrow? You always have ‘other plans’ and then you never tell us what they are.”

“Because that’s none of your business!”

“If my friends are going to get hurt because of some lying bitch then it is my business!”

You were breathing so heavily, you were basically panting. Your blood felt like it was boiling under your skin and your head felt fuzzy with lack of thoughts. You didn’t know what to say, truly lost for words.

JJ took another step closer to you. You’re so close to him, you can feel his breath on your face and see every mark on his skin. You never knew he had a scar right above his brow or a freckle under his ear. He smelled like weed and sun sunscreen and his breath like mint. Had you not been fired up with rage, you would have thought he looked hot and maybe even made a move.

But now it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I’m sick and tired of you spoiled brats getting everything you want. You’re nothing but a spoiled rich kid who doesn’t even know the kind of privilege she has if it hit her in the face. You can’t relate to anything we have to go through. You don’t have to get dirt underneath your fingernails to make a buck. You don’t have to wonder where your next meal is coming from. You wouldn’t last a week on the Cut because you’ve never known what it’s been like to live the life we do!”

“You don’t know anything about me!” You snapped. The heart in your chest felt like it was being shredded to pieces by a rapid wolf. You felt like you were being torn apart one by one with each insult he threw in your face. Little did he know, he was wrong.

“I know enough to never want to see you again. I will never accept you into our group of friends. Don’t you get that? So you can stop playing the nice girl act around me and go back to Sarah Cameron and the other Kooks that you still hang out with despite knowing everything they’ve done to us. To Kie!”

Bringing up the fight between Kie and Sarah was a low blow and JJ knew it. It was something you always struggled with because you continued to be friends with both of them separately. At first, they were both mad at you but then accepted your friendship when they came around to loving the idea that you would fight for both of them. You tried getting them to talk and make up, but both of them refused. Maybe you should just stick them on a boat in the middle of nowhere and force them to work it out.

Although, clearly your experience with it wasn’t going so well.

“That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well life’s not fair sweet heart. But you wouldn’t know about that.”

You thought the fight last night was bad. But this one took the icing off the cake. You wished so desperately that Kie had just trapped you both in a locked room, so at least you had the chance to break out and run away from the darkness that was clouding around you.

You were most upset that this was how JJ thought of you. You didn’t know if you would have the same devastating reaction if someone else had said these things to you. You wanted so badly to be friends with the blonde Pogue. You saw the way he interacted with his friends and you wanted to be a part of that small circle so badly, you would almost do anything to be in it.

But you didn’t think you could last another second of being belittled and tormented with JJ’s outspoken feelings towards you. You wished there was a rewind button so you could go back to bed and hopefully never wake up and you’d lock your door so Kie couldn’t break in.

You swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall and admit your defeat. You wanted to find the nearest corner and crawl into it and escape the murderous glare of JJ Maybank. JJ was wrong. You didn’t have everything. Because in this moment, you still wanted him. And you were just realizing that you never will.

“You judge me by the surface. You’ve never once tried to get to know me. You don’t ask. You just assume that I’m like every other kid on Figure Eight. You don’t know where I’ve came from. What I’ve been through. What I live with. You don’t know my plans for the future or my hobbies or even my favorite color because you didn’t ask!” Adrenaline pushes through your veins like a wave of energy. You’ve never felt so powerful but so small in your life.

“All right. So tell me,” JJ said. “Tell me whatever story you can think of that will change my mind about you.”

You paused, standing there face to face with someone who will never accept you. You were suddenly overcome with so many emotions you didn’t know which one to choose from. Anger, sorrow, fear, confusion, shame.

You couldn’t believe you even thought about telling JJ your story. A story that you haven’t even told Kie. The story about how you were actually born and raised on the far end of the south side. How your dad use to abuse your mother right in front of you before she managed to escape when you were eight. For six months you lived in her car before she got a job as a housekeeper at a cheap motel used mostly for hookers and their cliental. Her employer let you live rent free if your mom accepted a cheaper pay check. During one of her shifts, your mother ran right into Andrew Y/L/N. No, he wasn’t one of the hooker’s clients. He was actually on the property looking to buy out the place. Even though he was a Kook, he looked through the housekeeper’s uniform into my mom’s heart and loved everything about her. He took her on a couple dates, then less than a year later, married her. You changed your last name to his because you didn’t want any relation to your father anymore. You thought the man was scum and deserved to rot in hell for everything he put your mom through. You hated him and even wished for him to die. Sometimes you even thought about doing it yourself. But then you saw him again. At a gas station in the middle of The Cut. You couldn’t believe he recognized you and you were even more shocked he had the audacity to talk to you. And you listened. He told you how sorry he was. How he never meant to hurt your mom. How he missed his baby girl and wanted to be in her life again. You fell for every word because a part of you you didn’t know existed missed having a biological dad.

That was your biggest mistake.

He didn’t change. He was still the same bastard he was eight years ago, using violence and threats with people much weaker than him to get what he wanted. He loved guilting you with your new luxuries. How you now had everything right under your fingertips after you left him to wither away with nothing. He said you owed him. Because you were his daughter and you were supposed to love him unconditionally. And you fell for it every time. He never hurt you like he hurt your mom. A few slaps here and there but nothing to leave a mark to get your mother questioning.

So now you were trapped - trapped in his world and in his life. Using your own money that you actually worked for, little did JJ know, to pay for his bills, his drugs, and sometimes, even his bail.

You didn’t tell anyone about this secret life because you didn’t want anyone to make you feel any more pathetic and weak than you already felt. And most importantly, you didn’t want to hurt your mother by telling her you’ve been supporting the one person she’s been trying to protect you from.

And you were about to risk that by telling someone who probably still wouldn’t care about you even after hearing what you had to say. You are who you are. If JJ didn’t like you now, he shouldn’t like you after telling him your story, anyway.

“No.” You shook your head.

“No?” JJ scoffed. “I’m finally asking you tell me something and you’re saying no?”

“Because you don’t care, JJ! Not really. You think knowing my sob story is going to get you to like me? I don’t need a pity friendship. I am who I am because of shit I’ve had to overcome. And this is me now. So if you don’t like it, then fine. We’ll do it your way and call it quits.” JJ didn’t say anything as you turned around to find somewhere to pass out in hopes of getting morning to come faster.

You found a blanket deep into the cabin and pulled it over your body, shielding yourself away from the world. You hoped the darkness would sweep through your head so you wouldn’t be plagued with torturous thoughts about your past or what’s going to happen to tomorrow. You cried - you cried because even after JJ ripped into your like a zoo animal, he still hated you.

JJ was wrong. You didn’t have everything. Because you didn’t have him.

                                           ***********************

Surprisingly, the sun rose sooner than you expected it to. Sleeping on the swaying boat wasn’t as awful as you thought it was going to be. In fact, it was kind of peaceful with the stars above you and the sound of moving water right under you.

The morning wasn’t so calming. You were slapped in the face with memories of the night before. Your stomach twisted at the thought of being face to face with JJ again. You knew what you had to do and thinking about it made you sick and depressed.

You pushed yourself up and checked the time on the radio. 8:03. Anxiety instantly flooded through you. You only had two hours to get home to be ready in time to run ‘errands’ with your dad.

You looked out to the back of the boat where JJ was looking into the horizon, probably waiting for your friends to come.

Fresh set of tears pricked your eyes at what’s to come. You loved your friends and you even loved JJ. But you couldn’t stay with the Pogues. You didn’t want to make JJ any more uncomfortable than he already was and you were afraid the constant fighting would push your friends further apart. You didn’t want to be the reason for that.

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and walked next to JJ. Without a word, you looked out in the same direction he was looking and admired the morning sun.

Surprisingly, JJ was the first one to speak. He looked at you and instantly felt guilty all over again. He tossed and turned all night contemplating on whether he should wake you up to apologize or just wait until morning. He knew he wasn’t being fair. You’ve done nothing but tried to earn his trust since day one. You accepted him for all his flaws and he couldn’t do the same for you. Yeah there was the phone thing and not telling the others what you’re up to, but it wasn’t like you were constantly in his business. If you see him with unexplained bruises, you don’t pester him about it. If he comes back to the Chateau in a pissy mood and blames it on a fight with his dad, you try to make him forget about it with a distraction instead of making him tell you what the fight was about. Why couldn’t he give you the same respect?

Truth was he wasn’t so much worried about his friends getting hurt as he was getting hurt. He liked you more than a friend should which would make your departure from your friends that much more heartbreaking for him. He never felt this way over a girl, let a lone a Kook and he tried so desperately to hate you. But it didn’t work. Instead, it made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world. He wanted to fix what he broke. He told himself he still had time left. His friends weren’t back yet to get him.

“Listen, Y/N -”

“It’s fine, J,” You sniffled. This time you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks. You tried blinking them away which only made them fall faster. You hated crying in front of people. Your dad always said it was a sign of weakness and you believed him. You wouldn’t be surprised if JJ laughed in your face right now and called you a loser. “It’s done.”

“What are you talking about?”

JJ’s heart physically broke when he saw your tears. He had never seen you cry. Not even out of joy. He couldn’t believe he was the cause of this. That he had made someone as beautiful and as kind as you actually feel bad about herself. He wished he could take back time and start over. He wished he gave her a chance from the beginning. He wished it wasn’t too late.

You both looked up when you heard the engine of the HMS Pogue. In the distance, you could hear your friends laughing and calling out to you, not yet realizing their plan went to shit. You had to make this quick.

“The last thing I want is to get between you and your friends. You don’t have to worry about me hurting anyone, especially Kie. I’ll back off.” You said, making JJ’s brows furrowed in confusion and his heart raced with worry. “I’m giving you what you want. I’ll stay out of your life.”

JJ couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he drove you to do the one thing he actually never wanted you to do. “Wait. You’re leaving?”

You looked JJ in the eyes and he wished you didn’t. Because for the first time, he didn’t see the light behind your eyes or the little crinkle in the corner when you smiled. They were dull and lifeless, making him sick to his stomach.

“I didn’t stutter. Did I?” You used his words from the other night and it felt like a stab in the heart to JJ.

JJ was left speechless which almost never happens. He wished he could say something, anything, to make you feel differently, to tell you he was wrong and sorry. But nothing came out. He could barely breathe.

“Hey you crazy kids,” Kie’s voice pierces the air, jokingly and airy. If only she knew that wasn’t how you were feeling.

“Missing a key or something?” John B joked alongside her.

“You should have called us sooner!” Pope added.

When the boat came closer to yours, they finally got a look at the two of you. They were shocked to see you silently crying and looking like all the life had been sucked out of you. JJ looked mad but they couldn’t tell whether he was mad at you or them or himself.

The three of them went sick with anxiety, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea. Kie tried to get you make eye contact, but you wouldn’t look at her. You couldn’t look at any of them - afraid you might actually break completely if you did.

“Y/N/N...” Kie said softly.

“You guys okay?” John B asked wearily.

JJ helped Pope tie The Pogue to Heyward’s boat and hopped on right after. Pope traded spots with JJ and came up beside you and stood there awkwardly. He didn’t know what to do either.

You looked up at him before he could come up something probably stupid to ask. “Can you drop me off please?”

Pope glanced back at his friends and nodded. “Uh, sure. John B will probably get you there faster though if you -”

“No, it’s okay,” You said. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle being in an enclosed space with JJ for another minute. You just wanted to go home and forget the past two years ever happened. “I’ll stay here.”

Pope shrugged at his friends when you trudged back into the cabin and curled yourself into the corner. You didn’t know what the next few weeks would be like, but you hoped they go better than the last twenty four hours did.