#tw: abusive ex

[thezombieprostitute]

Panic Attack - Part 2

Summary: Your ex decides he needs to talk to you. Your friend, Walter Marshall, has other ideas.

A/N: Reader is plus sized. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: Abusive ex, Implied violence, Panic attack. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 1

It's been a few months since your panic attack that introduced you to Walter. Not wanting to appear too needy you limited yourself to just an occasional check-in text every week. Walter would always gently guide the texts into a conversation about your shared interests and the two of you really got to talking.

Sometimes, after chatting, you would cry from relief. You're not scaring him away. He doesn't downplay your interests as “childish” or “immature” like Bryce, your ex, always did. He was polite, even funny, about disagreements in canon. He really helped you feel safe talking about what you like. You weren't used to that.

You were feeling pretty good about yourself overall and it really helped you get through some rough days.

But nothing could help you prepare for Ransom showing up at the bookstore where you work. Ransom and Bryce had been friends forever. If he was here, Bryce was likely nearby. You try to head to the back office but you hear Ransom calling your name. Your manager has been on everyone about not ignoring potential patrons so you take a deep breath and face him.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you nod. “How can I help you today?”

“Oh good,” he smiles, mockingly, “you remember your place.” You take another breath to steady yourself. “Believe me, this isn't my first choice either. Bryce needs to talk to you but due to legal reasons, he needs an intermediary.”

“I have no interest in talking to him,” you reply calmly.

“Yeah, the restraining order made that clear. Still can't believe you got that. It's not like he ever actually hit you or anything,” Ransom scoffs. You struggle to control your breathing, fighting the tears. “Anyways, he's looking at being cut out of the will. But since his father always liked you, he figured you showing up with him to the old man's birthday party would help him secure his place.”

“No,” you reply simply. The shorter, more concise an answer you can give, the better.

“I'd reconsider,” Ransom growls. “The lengths someone like Bryce will go to ensure he's in the will? I could see him doing some...bad things.”

“His relationship with his father is not my problem,” you reply. “Now please, either purchase a book or leave.”

Ransom snorts, “I'm not buying this trash. But don't say I didn't warn you.” He turns and heads out.

You almost running to the break room, tears pouring down your face. You want to call Walter, ask him to help you calm down, but he's a police officer. No doubt he has more important things to take care of. You'll wait for tonight, your usual texting/call time.

Walter's phone starts chiming with the ringtone he has reserved for you.

“Hello, Sugar,” he answers with a smile.

“W-W-Walter,” you stutter, making him frown. “He-he's here. Bryce. He's, he's outside my door. Please help.” You're whispering into the phone and he can barely make out what you're saying but it's enough for him. Especially with the loud banging in the background that he can only assume is your ex trying to force his way into your apartment.

“I'm on my way,” Walter assures. His voice is calm, concealing the burning rage he's feeling. As he keeps talking to you as he gestures for a couple other officers to follow him. “Take a breath for me, Sugar,” he gently orders you over the phone. He hears your breath shaking and he continues, “grab the pepper spray and lock yourself into a room further into your apartment. Wait for me to signal the all-clear. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Walter.” You hang up and get moving. The panic is telling you to shut down. Just accept the abuse. The only way to get Bryce to stop hurting you is to let him tire himself out. But you've been working so hard on getting over these kinds of stress responses. He doesn't own your life any more. You do.

Doing your best to ignore his yells of “open the damn door” you grab the pepper spray out of your purse. The only room in your apartment with a lock is the bathroom so you head in there, locking the door and pushing the bathmat underneath to make it a little more difficult to open.

You can still hear the banging and, while you can't make out the words, you can still hear Bryce's yelling. You don't realize you've started rocking. You brain is in panic mode and you can't think past the impending pain. The punches to your stomach, your arms, places where you could hide the bruises. The promises of worse if you ever told.

The commotion outside suddenly gets louder and you curl up into the fetal position, covering your ears. You're not sure how long you stay like that, waiting for the pain.

There's a gentle knock at the bathroom door and you squeak in fear. “Sugar?” Walter's voice gently calls through the door. “Sugar? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

You lift your head a little, “Walter?” Your voice is barely above a whisper but he breathes a sigh of relief at hearing you.

“Yeah, Sugar, it's me. Can you open the door for me?”

“Bryce?”

“He's in handcuffs in a squad car outside. It's just you and me in the apartment.”

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, you get up, remove the bathmat and unlock the door. Walter wants to open it immediately but it has to be you who opens it. He doesn't want to scare you worse than you've already been tonight. You crack the door open and peek out. You see Walter's familiar broad frame, curly hair and beard, concerned blue eyes and open the door the rest of the way. You throw yourself at him, bringing him into a hug that he's only too happy to return. Your tears are flowing freely but from relief instead of fear.

He gently pats your head as he holds you, whispering to you about how brave, how smart, how quick you were with everything. He never stops reassuring you, even when your crying is too loud to hear him. His arms feel so safe, his voice so calming. It isn't long before you've calmed enough to gently pull away and thank him.

“If you're willing,” he starts, “I'll stay here and sleep on your couch.”

You shake your head, “I don't feel safe here right now. He knows where I live, that means his friends do. I...I don't want to be here for a while.”

Walter nods, “if you're up for it, you can pack a bag and stay at my place. And no,” he stops you before you can say anything, “it won't be a bother. At all.”

You hug him as more tears of relief pour out. “Thank you, Walter.”

Part 1

Taglist: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly

[vbecker10]

Can you do a jealous ex where reader is with Loki and the ex starts getting mad and starts texting and calling reader constantly then one day she forgot her phone and Loki reads the texts and listens to the voicemails then reader comes home to a concerned Loki because reader got hurt somehow?

She's Mine Now

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You and Loki have only just started dating and you're worried your ex-boyfriend will ruin everything. You've been able to hide how often your ex contacts you but one night he calls over and over while you are with Loki. After finally admitting to Loki what has been going on, the God of Mischief takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: controlling ex-boyfriend, jealous ex-boyfriend, some vague mentions of previous abuse (nothing specific), arguing, swearing, threatening language, name calling, Loki being super protective

A/N: I'm so so so sorry it took me ages to get to this. I'm finally going through my request box and I loved this the minute I saw it. I changed it just a little but I hope that's OK. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚

Also... I realized as I was proofreading this that I never named the ex-boyfriend so it's whatever you want it to be lol pick any jerk you know haha

Loki sits on the end of his couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers run slowly up and down your arm. You've only been together a month but you have completely fallen for him. You look up at him and smile when he laughs at the movie you selected.

He notices you watching him and kisses your nose causing you to giggle. "The movie is more interesting than I am, I assure you," he jokes.

"I've seen it," you respond but rest your head against him again.

Everything about him makes you want to tell him how perfect he is and how deeply you love him but you are afraid to. A small voice inside you keeps holding you back from opening up to him the way you want to. Every time you told you ex-boyfriend you loved him, he would tell you that you sounded clingy or needy or desperate. You don't want Loki to feel the same so you keep those three words to yourself.

Loki's fingers move from your arm to your back, moving in slow circles. You close your eyes and focus on how calming it feels but then his hand moves further up. He begins playing with your hair, his eyes still fixed on the screen, a small smile on his lips. You try to keep your thoughts from racing as you feel a familiar pit growing in your stomach. He's upset, he doesn't like your hair this way, your inner voice starts to spread panic throughout your body, he's going to grab a fistful of it any second and yell at you. You tense as his fingers gently run through your hair and he notices the change in your behavior.

"Are you okay, love?" he asks, he removes his hand and looks down at you concerned.

"Yea, I just-" you look down and begin playing with the sleeve on your sweater as your mind replays what happened the last time you got a haircut without talking to your ex first. "I'm sorry, I- I was going to ask you before I cut my hair. I know I should have but I was only going for a trim so I thought it was okay but then I saw a shorter style I really liked and I just went for it but-"

He cuts off your words suddenly when his lips met yours, your whole body responds to his kiss and the feeling of his hand softly touching your cheek, relaxing you instantly. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours so he knows you are listening to him. "It's your hair darling. You can do what you like with it," he gently plays with the ends of your hair. "You don't need to ask me to do things like this," he says as if it is obvious.

You nod and remind yourself for the hundredth time that Loki is not your ex-boyfriend.

He settles back on the couch, bringing you with him easily, his arm around you. He smiles and adds, "I'm sorry if I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful today."

You blush and bury your face against his chest, the heavy feeling inside of you vanishing completely. He kisses the top of your head and goes back to watching the movie. You close your eyes and force the images of your ex-boyfriend's reaction from your mind, replacing them with Loki's words.

Half an hour later your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You lean forward to try and reach for it but Loki keeps his arm around you. You giggle and try again but he doesn't let go. He looks down at you and smirks, "Where do you think you're going?"

Your phone continues to vibrate. "I need to answer my phone," you roll your eyes.

He looks back towards the TV and dramatically puts his foot on the edge of the coffee table, sliding it further away from you as he straightens his leg.

"Loki!" you laugh as a smile spreads across his lips. He finally loosens his grip so you can get up. You pick up your phone but as soon as you see the number, you end the call and put it face down on the table.

"Who is it?" he asks.

"Wrong number," you answer with a shrug but the laughter is gone from your voice.

You sit heavily next to him and he waves his hand to bring the table back to its original spot. He doesn't respond but you know he can tell you are lying, his expression has become serious and his eyes remain fixed on your phone. Before you can think of a better excuse, your phone begins to vibrate again. You grab it and hang up quickly without stopping to see the number, you know who is calling.

"Who is it, Y/N?" he asks again, his tone is curious but you can feel your nerves getting worse.

"It's no one," you tell him as you tug on your sleeve again.

He sighs at your response and turns off the TV. "I don't like being lied to," he says as he faces you.

"I know," you shrink away from him, waiting for him to yell or tell you to leave.

"Y/N," he reaches out to touch your chin lightly, wanting you to look at him but you flinch away from his touch involuntary. He pulls away as well, giving you more space instead of invading yours. You look up after a moment and instead of seeing anger in his eyes as you expect, he looks sad.

You know in your heart Loki would never hurt you but your instincts had forced you to distance yourself from him. When your ex was upset because you had lied or had done something he thought was wrong, he could be unpredictable.

Your phone vibrates again and he sighs as he picks it up off the table. He hands it to you and says, "Whoever it is must really want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to him," you tell Loki, trying to hold back your tears. You toss it away from you wanting it as far from you as possible. It skims over the top of the coffee table and lands on the ground in front of the TV.

"Who keeps calling you, Y/N?" he asks again and this time you know you need to answer him.

You tuck your legs underneath you and move further away from Loki, wrapping your arms around yourself. He shifts his body to face you but doesn't move any closer. "It's my ex-boyfriend," you tell him, you try to keep the fear from your voice but you know he hears it.

"The one Wanda told me about?" he asks, his eyes glance towards your phone and you see a flash of anger cross his face.

You nod but don't say anything else, you had barely mentioned your ex to Loki for so many reasons. You aren't sure how much Wanda told Loki but it was obviously more then you had ever shared with him.

"Please talk to me," he says, moving towards you slowly, testing to see if you will pull away again. "I don't understand why he would still be calling you. I thought you ended things with him months before I met you."

"He started calling and texting me again a few days after our first date," you finally admit to Loki. "I don't know how he even found out about us..." your voice trails off as you look down.

You feel Loki move closer to you again and your body tenses as you prepare for an argument or worse, you shouldn't have hidden this from him, it was as bad as lying.

"I'm not texting him back I promise. I always ignore him. I don't want him to call me but he just keeps doing it, I've asked him to stop but he won't," you say quickly, all in one breath. Loki opens his mouth to say something but you are too afraid to give him a chance. "I didn't want you to be upset, that's why I didn't tell you, I wasn't trying to hide anything or lie about it, I'm sorry," you feel the apology pouring out as it had so many times with your ex. You cover your face with your hands but can't stop the first few tears from escaping.

"I'm not upset Y/N," he says softly. He gently touches your hands and slowly takes them away from your face, "I'm worried about you, that's all."

You look at him, not having expected that response. When your ex found out you were texting Wanda after work, he had been furious. He had never met her and didn't want you telling a stranger anything about him or your relationship.

"I'm sorry," you mumble quietly, not even sure what you are sorry for anymore.

"Please stop apologizing," he says in a calm voice, "You haven't done anything wrong." He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nod and without thinking you answer him, "Sorry."

He gives you a half smile and puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You squeeze your eyes shut and press your cheek to his chest as he rubs your back slowly. He holds you and sighs, "I don't know what he did to you... and I will never ask you to tell me," he adds when you look up at him, "But I need you to remember that I am not him. I never want you to be scared of me, you can tell me anything."

"I know," you wipe your eyes again. "I'm sorry-"

He raises an eyebrow at you and you let out a small laugh. "There's that beautiful smile I love so much," he smiles in return.

A few hours later, Loki lays awake staring at the ceiling, wishing you hadn't left. He has told you on numerous occasions that he sleeps much better when you are curled up in his arms. Unfortunately, you need to run an errand before work tomorrow so you had gone back to your apartment after the movie finished. Closing his eyes, he rolls over but sits up quickly when he hears a faint buzzing sound.

He gets out of bed and follows the sound into his living room. Loki looks around as the buzzing gets louder until he finally sees your phone lighting up on the floor just under the tv stand. You must have forgotten you threw it there when your ex-boyfriend was calling. He was worried when you didn't text him to say you arrived home like you always did, so at least now he knows why.

He stands still for a moment, watching it ring as he debates what to do next. The call ends and he bends down to pick it up then he takes a seat on the couch. After a few seconds, it vibrates once more notifying him that there is a new voicemail.

He sits back, phone in one hand with his other hand over his eyes. Loki trusts you more than anyone he has ever known, on Midgard or on Asgard and doesn't want you to think he's invading your privacy. It's not you he wants to check up on, it's your ex-boyfriend. Everything he knows about him, he heard from Wanda in one very short but eye opening conversation. She only told him what little she knew but it was enough for Loki to know that you deserved better. He sounded like a man you weren't safe with and your reaction to his calls tonight confirmed that for him. Loki would do anything to protect you so he takes a deep breath and unlocks your phone.

Thankfully he remembers your password, you had told him what it was last weekend so he could send himself some pictures you took together at the museum. He opens your call history and covers his mouth with his hand in shock. Fifty-three missed calls in the last week alone, he stares at the number in disbelief. You hadn't answered a single call but still he attempted to reach you over and over. Most of the calls came in groups late at night, like they had while you were watching the movie.

He opens your texts, feeling both guilty for looking around and angry knowing what he will likely find. He smiles a bit when he sees how you've saved his name in your phone, Mischief 💚, but immediately frowns when he sees an unsaved number right below his conversation with you.

He clicks on it, at first he barely reads the words, he just scrolls further and further down hoping to find the end. He sees text after text after text, some are long rants while others are a single insulting word and it seems to go on forever. Once a day is a text from you pleading with him to leave you alone but it only seems to enrage him.

Loki quickly goes from upset to angry to furious as he reads the threats and insults your ex-boyfriend had thrown at your over the last few weeks. He grinds his teeth as he thinks about you being afraid of your ex and the things he has done to you. He sits back and types out a lengthy reply but at the last second he deletes it.

With a smirk he sits forward with his elbows on his knees and begins to type a new, much shorter message. He hits send and waits a few moments. Your phone vibrates when your ex replies and Loki turns off your phone before going back to his room.

You look both ways and cross the street quickly, excited to finally see Loki for lunch like you do every day. You spot him sitting on his usual bench just past the entrance to the park, lost in his book. You smile when he looks up, his book vanishing as he stands. He hugs you tightly then leans down to give you a kiss.

"I missed you," you tell him, his arms still around you.

"Then you shouldn't have left last night," he smiles. "Oh, I believe this is yours," he takes your phone out of his pocket.

"Thanks. I can't believe I forgot it, that was really stupid," you shake your head. You had realized when you got home last night that you had left it at Loki's but it was too late to go back.

Your heart stops when you realize its your ex-boyfriend. You look up at Loki, one of his arms is still around you but his eyes are fixed to your ex as he approaches with a wide smile and outstretched arms.

"You are not stupid," he corrects you and before you can respond you see someone walking over to you.

He continues towards you and when your brain finally registers that he is trying to go in for a hug you free yourself from Loki and quickly back away. Loki moves in response, putting himself easily between you and your ex which causes him to stop.

"Seriously Y/N?" he says, already sounding annoyed with you. "I drove all the way out here for lunch with you and you won't even give me a freaking hug? You're lucky I accepted your ridiculous invitation after you kept ignoring me."

Loki says, "Y/N did not invite you here, I did."

"Oh really?" he's looks from you to Loki and seems unphased that he is face to face with the Prince of Asgard. "What, are you looking for some tips on how to control her better?" he laughs to himself. "Of course, if you've decided you're done with her, I'll gladly take her back. I put years into fixing her, wouldn't want that to go to waste."

You take another step back as his eyes find you again and they roam up and down your body. You suddenly wish you hadn't worn a skirt and you cross your arms tightly around yourself. He always commented on how you dressed, he had so many opinions on what he wanted you to wear.

Loki notices how uncomfortable you are and brings the attention back to himself. "Do not look at her, this conversation is between you and me," he tells your ex.

He sighs and says, "Fine, what do you want?"

Loki holds his anger at back and in a controlled tone says, "You will apologize for how you treated her in the past and then you will leave, never return here or contact her again."

He almost laughs and says, "I treated her the way she deserved. She needed to learn how to behave and you should be thankful I trained her as well as I did."

Your eyes dart from your ex to Loki and your heart races with anxiety about what might happen next. Loki doesn't respond at first, you watch his fist clench and his jaw tighten. He looks like he is holding himself back from lashing out with every bit of strength he has.

"You have no idea what she was like before. When I first met her-" he tries to look at you but Loki cuts him off.

He walk steadily forward, glaring at him as approaches. "I will not stand here and listen to a pathetic mortal like you speak poorly of Y/N. She is kind, funny, generous, creative, beautiful and so much more. She never deserved to be mistreated by the likes of you. Y/N is a queen and I will ensure she is treated as such."

You can't take your eyes off of Loki, you've never had anyone speak about you this way before.

Loki stops just in front of your ex and says, "If you ever speak to her, text her or see her again, I will make sure you suffer greater than any human on Midgard has ever suffered before."

Your ex-boyfriend looks at him in shock but it quickly morphs into anger, he does not take being challenged or threatened well. He takes a small step backwards and says, "You can't just threatened me like that. You might be some fancy royal on your planet but here your just another asshole. If I want to talk to her, I will. She was mine once and I could take her back if I really wanted to."

As soon as the words come out of your ex's mouth, you know he finally pushed Loki too far. Loki's full armor and tall horned crown appear in a bright flash of gold and green. Your ex goes quiet in an instant as you are both reminded that Loki truly is a God among men.

The God of Mischief looms over him, staring down at him, daring him to speak again. Loki raises one hand and suddenly your ex is picked up by his throat, a green mist surrounding his neck. He tries to claw at it but Loki's magic brings him closer, until they are eye to eye. In a dark voice, Loki says, "She's mine now."

Your ex-boyfriend looks utterly terrified and a part of you can't help but enjoy seeing the fear in his eyes after all the pain he inflicted on you. You watch, your heart still pounding quickly. As much as you want your ex to suffer, you are afraid Loki will go to far, you've never seen him so angry. Look had worked so hard over the last few months to gain the trust and support of the Avengers, if he hurts your ex he will have to face serious consequences. As much as you hate your ex-boyfriend, its not worth risking Loki's future with the team or with you.

Loki's magic brings him closer, until the are inches from each other, his feet dangling helplessly above the ground. "Do not doubt for a moment that I will do what needs to be done to protect the woman I love. Is that clear?" Loki asks and he nods rapidly in response.

Loki releases him from his grasps and he falls to the ground. Getting up quickly, he runs from the park without looking back.

Loki's magic vanishes, his crown and armor fading away in the breeze as he turns to face you. The determination and rage in his eyes is gone, replaced with his own nervous fear. Your eyes remain locked on him as he slowly walks towards you.

"Y/N," he asks softly. You don't answer, your mind still processing the events from a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, I never meant to let my temper get so out of control but I just couldn't bear to listen to him talk about you for another moment," he explains and you nod in understanding.

He reaches out to take your hand, looking down as your finger interlock and sighs. "I told you not to be afraid of me and then I showed you exactly what kind of terrifying monster I really am. I never wanted to scare you, I only wanted him to leave you alone."

"You um..." you pause, biting you lip as you think. "You said you love me?"

"Loki," you close the distance between you and touch his cheek with your other hand. "I could never be scared of you." He looks at you slowly and you smile, he breaths a sigh of relief and smiles in return.

He laughs and relaxes completely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Darling, I have loved you from the first time we spoke," he tells you. "You mean everything to mean."

You reach up and kiss him, his hands move down your back to hold you flush against his body. You look up, still pressed together and say, "I love you too. Thank you for keeping me safe from him."

You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. "I promise, I will always protect you, you just need to tell me what is bothering you," he swears.

You smile when you look into his eyes and see how much he means it. He leans down to kiss you again and between breaths he whispers, "Mine."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter

[zivazivc]

the morning (afternoon?) after this messy stunt. Floyd got off too easy in my opinion, but it's hard for Les to stay mad at him when he makes those sad pouting faces... 🤦

If you think Floyd's being really dumb at the start of this comic before getting a reality check, you have to take into account that he's madly lovesick and was feeling very smug atm; he's also a 15yo pop troll who thinks making out with someone means they're together now; and he assumed Les's sour mood was entirely the result of a nasty hangover...

P.S. They forgot about Hed lol (I almost forgot about him too, drew him just before posting lmao)

[skepticalkoi-catastrophe]

𝙏𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙖 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙑𝙤𝙞𝙙

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends to Lovers, Exes to Best Friends, Hinted Exes to Lovers

Warnings: Mentions of physical harm to y/n (bruises).

Word count: 577

PART 2 HERE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 「11:37pm」 - 30 days or more was the minimum. That was the agreement made to ensure there were no hard feelings. Once the distance grew, you knew there was no going back. But you never really forget how someone makes you feel.

He had driven to your location to pick you up from an event being held by major Guild Masters. Wrong number. Right time, you figured as you could've swore it was a cab service you called and not his personal phone number.

Mentally cursing yourself as you stood beside him in the rising elevator, that bottle of gwasilju nears its end in your system.

"I already told you I called you by accident." You insist as he walks you to his familiar apartment front door.

Jinwoo's lips go flat while unlocking it, leading you inside. "Accident or not, I wasn't going to leave you there alone. You called, I came."

It was obvious he was worried about you. He managed to bring a jacket to wrap around you and some slides for your feet as he predicted they'd hurt by the end of the night. Habits like these were hard to break.

Much like him getting you a glass of water, fresh washcloths and towels, and one of his shirts to sleep in.

"Jinwoo, I'm serious. You don't need to do all this. I'm fine." You glance up to the ceiling. "It's not their fault I wondered off."

"Regardless, you're here now, so just ease up a bit."

He's always been so stubborn when it came down to you. You nod, stumbling somewhat to the bathroom, him not far behind you. Gently, he took your hand, sitting you down on the rim of the bath tub, massaging cleansing oil onto your face.

Jinwoo knew better, but he couldn't shake you. Your presence reminds him of a simpler time.

He continued your nightly routine, him leading you to his bedroom where your clothes were. "If you want, I'll sleep on the couch."

"It's okay, Jin, I just...this is hard on us both."

Right. Just months ago, you and him did this same song and dance. It wasn't fair how both your duties as hunters found precedence over what was once shared. He's snapped out of his thoughts as you began changing, not bothering to tell him to look away.

"It doesn't have to continue like this - what is that?" His question plummeted swiftly like a guillotine's blade.

You didn't budge, pulling his shirt over your head. "It's nothing. You know I'm careless."

"I won't ask again. Who did that to you?" He approaches you from behind, fingertips barley making contact as you wince. Purplish blue watercolor lined your ribs, tender to the touch, causing you to flinch.

"Let's just say it was a physical disagreement between guild members." You let out a harsh breath. "If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy."

"That's not funny y/n....you've probably had this for weeks, and you weren't going to tell me?"

"And tell you what, Jinwoo? The last thing on my mind was to go crying to you about my problems. You're not my boyfriend anymore." You choke back a lump in your throat upon exit of your sentence. His shirt now draped over your body. "No contact. That was the deal."

"Fuck the deal!" A line appears between Jinwoo's brows. "I never stopped caring."

That was it. The linchpin.

"...What?"

Please comment, like, and reblog if you enjoyed it

[sleeplessdreamer14]

(cw: abuse (and humanized! bill))

if you recognize the reference congrats! have a cookie 🍪

[wildfeather5002]

Indigenous folks, ex-christians & anyone who's knowledgeable on social issues, I have two questions that have bothered me for a long while and I believe y'all might know how to answer them.

The question: I read a webcomic about community A living on an island along with another community B with different culture & beliefs from them. Community A believes that their culture & religion are the correct ones and that members of community B are dooming themselves to eternal damnation (in a religious sense) if they don't adopt the beliefs & practices of community A.

I saw someone talking about the comic in its comment section, saying that one of the characters who's a member of community B is selfish for not adopting the burial practices from community A's religion, because according to that someone, not burying their loved one like community A believes is correct is " potentially dooming their loved one to eternal damnation".

If you're indigenous, has rhetoric / talking points like this been used against your own religious / cultural practices? Could you give any concrete examples?

If you have religious trauma / are ex christian of any kind, have people used talking points like this to guilt trip, to frighten, or to shame you into obeying religious rules? (People belonging to other religions than christianity are welcome to give their perspectives as well!)

[it-wasnt-your-fault]

It wasn’t your fault

It wasn’t your fault they treated you that way, it wasn’t your fault you accepted that treatment for so long, it wasn’t your fault you were taught abuse and neglect were what love is all about, it wasn’t your fault you thought it was all you deserved, it wasn’t your fault you fell for their fake charming character, it wasn’t your fault that you just wanted to be loved.

it wasn’t your fault

[abnormalpsychology]

[swatchitt]

Sirius in the house of Black.

head-canon under the cut.

i think when Sirius returns home for the holidays he's forced to shorten his hair and be clean shaven, so he often has shaving nicks and scars. Healing charms don't work very well within the manor grounds because of the sheer amount of curse energy that the protective wards harbour, so scars are much more common among the Black brothers than you might expect from a pure-blood wizarding family.

[winged-thinged]

See, the thing is, I've had someone in my actual real life give up "everything" for me and claim that that means that they love me, and guilt trip me into a relationship because of it, while setting harsh rules about what I could and could not do, ignoring my boundaries, violating my consent, and punishing me severely if I ever had the gall to reject their "love." And when humans do that, we call it emotional/sexual abuse. And if I wasn't willing to accept that kind of treatment from my mom, I sure as hell am not going to put up with it from God.

[daughterofcainandchaos]

where was your almighty god when my father was abusing me? what flavour of popcorn did he eat while watching my father beat me up? if he was there the whole time & chose to simply watch, i don't wanna have anything to do with him. may he burn in the hell he himself has made

[hulahoopsoupgroup]

last night i reached a real turning point with my views on evangelical christianity.

i overheard my mother whispering to my father from the other room, telling him that i ruined her life by being gay. that i ruined everything for her and i had the "audacity" to ask for therapy to help my mental health (which i cant afford).

and i just kinda snapped internally. it was like this rockslide came crashing down on the road behind me and prevented me from ever turning back.

before, i was fed up with christianity, but that kind of sealed the deal that im never going to put up with anything to do with evangelical christianity, not holidays, not a single worship song, nothing.

it just felt like, idk, like a became a new person. it felt like the old me just fuckin, died. i renamed myself. i just, dont feel like my old self anymore. and idk how to feel about that

[lez-exclude-men]

It's frustrating sometimes to see people victim blame people online when fundamentalism is involved, particularly when the victim in question was raised in fundamentalism and the blamers weren't. Just read a post about a woman who grew up fundamentalist and ended up with an abusive husband. Reading her post, I spotted all the euphemisms. I understood what she was saying and going through before she put it in plain language in a later post. But there were so many horrible comments about how stupid she was, how couldn't she see, etc etc. And I wanted to shake them all. I wanted to yell she was raised fundamentalist! These were things she was taught to accept as normal! She wasn't stupid, she knew, she just didn't phrase it the "normal" way because fundie church culture is all about not saying what you mean, about not directly "accusing" someone. You're supposed to be calm and "making the best" of things even when your husband is literally stealing bill money to do drugs and beating the shit out of you. You can't say he's doing that. Instead you have to say things like "he parties a lot" and "he was spending too much" and "he got angry sometimes". And yes, those culturally enforced phrasing ARE designed to downplay what's going on to outsiders, just so outsiders have such a reaction! Because when outsiders call you names and refuse you kindness or sympathy or good will, who do you feel forced back to? The fundamentalists you grew up with! It's an incredibly insidious control technique. And I understand why it works. But also, I hate how willing people are to victim blame battered women. You learn a woman could've been killed by her husband if he hadn't been arrested, and your first instinct is to tell her she's an idiot for not leaving at the first sign, instead of being horrified for her and offering comfort? What the FUCK is wrong with you. Fucking misogynistic pieces of shit

[terrence-silver]

Hey could i make a request please. Terry X fem reader, her former abuser comes back into her life to torment her all over again and Terry buts them in their place and destroys them physically, mentally, financially and when it's all over they'll thank him.

Jerry and Terry.

A story of disproportionate revenge; Terry Silver x Fem!Reader in the background (with an appearance from John Kreese).

---

Jerry is a man with a common office job and the accidental assonance of their names never fails to amuse Terry.

Infuriate him some.

Jerry and Terry.

Well, Jeremy, in actuality, just another information in the long mosaic line up covering everything he discovered about this schmuck, as much personally as through his sources, not that it was tremendously difficult seeing as how none of these common civilians were ever too much of a mystery anyway, granting him immense satisfaction in the hunt nonetheless — but the punk’s name might as well be worm or cockroach, because that’s in effect what he was, leaning over Colorado Street, in Pasadena, a two hour drive from LA, the July summer air after midnight still hot, the asphalt seeming to let off steams of a searing, stifling sensation, the cool breeze blown in from the Arroyo barely reaching the isolated steel ledge secluded from the buzz of the traffic; the city long since planned to put to preventive nets over the bridge — Terry should know because he personally funded the project with a generous donation and it was hilarious how life had a weird way of falling into place and connecting in the most bizarre ways on a bridge of occasional suicides where your ex was standing, hands in pockets, staring down into the dark depths of the river below, no such net in sight just yet except for a couple of signs issuing a warming that it was dangerous to lean over the railings, nothing separating him from the flowing abyss below. Him and the Mayor shook hands on the business venture two years ago. The news even reported on it with all the adulation in the world. Terry’s picture was in the paper. He was all over the news — long enough to distract from all his other ventures. But, it was one of those urban landscaping deals that would dawn on the news and then take years, perhaps decades, to be actually realized. Meant that Jerry could jump — and there would be nothing to save him from doing so. No cameras installed for security measures just yet either. Maintenance. Terry knew, because this was Terry’s city.

Terry’s country and State.

Nobody in sight right at this moment.

Merely a narrow concrete path along the bridge for pedestrians.

Terry, the stranger, snug in his leather jacket, not minding the heat, pretending to be an innocent bypasser.

Truth of the matter was, he ruined this man’s life and he developed the progression of the slow decay all along the way with great interest and like a cat eagerly eying a moving red string, Terry’s effortlessly led him here, deliberately, right to this very place, this very spot, on this very night, on this very bridge and the guy never even realized he had no say in any of it or that none of it was an accident. Jeremy got let off of work. Accused of embezzlement. Embroidered in schemes. In debt. Reputation ruined. Social circle gone. All that jazz. All the classics. And Terry did it all. Weaved it all. And it culminated in this. Do a flip, he thought to himself, approaching the man under the headlights, leisurely, acting like someone who accidentally stumbled upon a scene he wasn’t supposed to stumble upon, en route to somewhere else, haunting the city, stopping in his tracks, behind a steel pillar, watching Jerry climb over the ledge; He could say something now. It would've been expected. A hastily thrown in 'Hey, you there! Stop!' or 'Hey, you! Don't do it! Lets talk, man! Life can be good, actually. It can be good when you're not crossing Terry Silver, that is.' Something faux-poignant. Something mean. Something mocking. Something distracting or even infuriating to bait the man into arguing rather than hurting himself. Anything, so long as it distracts and causes the man to hesitate and think twice, but it’s only once Jerry’s heel is slipping over the edge of the pipe he was perched up on does Terry act, allowing himself to smile from where he's standing, seamlessly, feeling his mouth twitch upward, watching the shadow disappear over the railing into the darkness of the night. The next day, there's a suicide report briefly on the news and you never even catch it in the whirlwind of all the other crime circulating in the media. Your asshole ex, identified by his wallet and the documentation found in his soaked interior pocket, fished out by the loading docks. Just another statistic.

-"So, what he’d do?"-

John asked him on one occasion when Terry told him of his plans.

-"Nothing much."- Terry slings his arm over his driver seat leisurely, chuckling. He didn't treat you as well as you deserved? Tried to occasional get in contact with you again and stay on, quote-unquote 'good terms'. What did that even mean? Good terms? Wasn't that enough to warrant execution? Terry thought it was. It was a crappy, mediocre relationship and nobody had to put their hands on you for Terry to be convinced that deserved payback. Not to mention --- the said entanglement wasted your time. Time that would've been better spent with him if you weren't busy wasting it with some Jerry. Revenge. Reason for revenge, right there. They were parked near Griffith Observatory, in the embrace of a forested path, all zig-zags and steep rocks, the skyline of the city visible from a nearby slope, offering them both a view and sufficient privacy to talk. -"I just want him to die."- Terry confess bluntly, nearly cackling as the words rolled off of his tongue, sensing something exciting coil around in his gut like so many butterflies, seeing no reason to hide these things from his Captain after everything they've been through together and John gives him a lopsided, paternal smile, halfway critical, halfway entertained, like he was about to throw in the talk.

-"Terry…"-

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and Terry instantly protests.

Show mercy!? Why!? Since when were they the mercy-showing types!?

-"What? What!?"-

He finds himself whining slamming the palm of his hand against the backrest of the leather seats, feeling his own face furrow up. -"C’mon, Johnny!"- He sighs profoundly, rolling his eyes, annoyed and exasperated. This was some prime-time bullshit. -"Don’t you dare tell me that you never wanted anyone someone you loved loved before you to just, you know…"- He starts, trailing off, digging his teeth into his lower lip. Savoring the moment. -"Drop dead?"- He says it then, and it tastes so sweet, like caramel coated candy dipped in white powder. Terry knew all about Johnny nearly beating his beloveds Betsy's then-beau halfway to death on the parking lot of the Deli he worked in before the army. They were exactly the same, him and John Kreese. A Cobra doesn't tolerate competition. It's not in it's nature to. John says nothing. Almost as if contemplating that memory himself, looking off into the distance, pulling up the collar of his brown vest jacket on the passenger seat beside him, his face crinkling into a grim smile, not saying yes but not saying no either. Terry has the odd impulse to kick his feet up in the air in a flash of euphoria. -"We could always rough him up. Scare him. Hurt him, make him piss his pants and call it a day. I'm available for that."- John murmurs, the deep rumbling sound emanating from his throat recognized only as a suppressed chuckle. Terry grabs John by the shoulder and shakes him in excitement, halfway hugging him in joy. While kicking that Creature to a pulp did sound exciting it wasn't part of the plan. -"My man! Now we're talking! But, that would only martyr him!"- Terry lifts up his hands, engrossed in his own imagination. He felt more comfortable and content if this guy was just wiped out of existence altogether. Like, hit by a moving bus, perhaps. A guy that put his dick inside of you before being alive and well out there? Yeah. Unacceptable. -"No."- Terry says with a sense of looming doom. -"This is so final. There’s no coming back from it. And what’s best?"- He pauses slightly for dramatic timing, presenting the whole picture to John the way a storyteller would describe the synopsis of his newest magnum opus.

-"I’ll ensure he’ll do to himself."-

Six months into this special project and Terry never once put his hands on Jeremy. Could've. Itched to. But, he didn't. If Jerry deteriorated, it's because he ruined himself. With every drink, every cigarette and every sleepless, stressful night in tow. All Terry did was set events in motion and brought about the right environments for someone to start feeling profoundly unhappy.

-"I've put him through enough pain and now it's time to go to sleep."-

There can be only one, he almost halfway desires to add but he withholds at the last moment once he spots a shift on John's face --- that he didn't need any more convincing. Maybe it was an old habit --- an army habit --- but whenever Terry seriously wanted to end someone, he always came to Johnny first. To discuss the matter. Strategize. Get his greenlight from his Captain to go out into the field and terminate with extreme prejudice. That's how the hierarchy worked. Terry would do whatever he wanted anyway irregardless of John but he supposed he wanted to let him know. For old times sake. Reason why he invited him to meet here today. That and to gloat. -"Alright, Terry. If you say so."- John smiles that gruff smile of his, finally capitulating and Terry finally allows himself to breathe again after what seemed like an eternity of anticipation, letting himself be as jubilant as he wanted, turning the key in the ignition along with the steering wheel almost immediately, ready to get a move on, wasting not a second longer. There was a five star restaurant just down the road with their name on it. -"Of course I say so, Johnny! What I say is best!"- He exclaims, one hand on the wheel and another on the back of his John's neck, patting him triumphantly. Enough talk. Time to crack open the bottles before the big bang. You knew he was out with his oldest friend. You merely didn't know the context, is all. -"Reservations at five. Lets go grab that chow and celebrate!"- Terry practically shouts in euphoria, throwing a joyous glance at John, making a sharp U-turn. -"Ever ate a turkey stuffed with a chicken that's stuffed with a quail!?"- He snickers, knowing for a fact that Johnny would probably need everything in him not to roll his eyes at the option of orders, but regardless, he lived for treating his Captain to the finer things, just like he lived for removing each and every person from your past until nobody but him remains. Him, representing the future. -"I'd prefer plain good old bacon and some beer."- John mutters with a small, fox-like grin just like Terry knew he would, taking a relish in poking and prodding at him anyway. His Captain's wish is his command. They'd have so much to toast for today.

-"Done, baby!"-

Is all Terry says, laughing as he speeds away, down the woodland highway.

---

When you discover the news because he effectively tells you, deciding to control when and how the information reaches and that it might as well reach you from his own mouth, naturally, as expected, your mood turns gloomy. For days. Weeks. More time wasted and he despised it, deciding to immediately take you on a cruise of the Bahamas to distract you from it, but deciding tactically that you just had to ride it out. And you did. Week two on the deck of his yacht, eventually, slumped, looking out to the ocean, knees against your chest sitting on deck, you decide to speak. -"Terry, this will be such a weird thing to say."- You stutter, unsure of yourself and yet he's there, tracking your every movement and expression like a sonar radar. -"Maybe even meanspirited."- Will it now? Good. You were about to get whatever useless thing was still lodged in your system out of yourself. He's by your side, sitting beside you, looking at you intently, not wanting to miss a thing. -"But, I'm oddly glad I got out on time. That I met you."- You confess, holding back tears. Wasn't easy discovering that your ex was practically six figures in debt and wanted on several charges and that if you stayed with him, it would've reflected on you as well. Dragged you down with him. To the bottom of river Arroyo. That's what your pretty little head thought and Terry coos, massaging the edge of your scalp in gentle motions with his fingers, letting that beautiful brain below think whatever he wanted it to think. Oh, he loved you so. You were made for the greenest of pastures. For him. -"He would've destroyed his life as well as my own and I'm relieved the universe moved me out of the way when it did. That it brought me you. Thank you."- Ah. There it was. There were tears in your eyes flowing freely and you were thanking him, never even realizing you were unknowingly expressing gratitude that he effectively crapped all over your ex's life and led him to suicide. Stood by and watched while he did a triple Salto off of a bridge. The blood and the heat shoots down into his cock. How could it not? In any other situation he would've dragged Jerry's waterlogged swollen carcass fished out of the river at your feet and present it to you like a cat presents its owner a dead mouse. -"He was never bad towards me, exactly. But, he was never fully good either, you know? But, definitely not bad enough to deserve this."- Oh, Terry knew alright. It is just that he considered that your ex not being fully good towards you was a capital offense that found it's equivalent payback only in death. So, yeah. Punk deserved it.

Had it long time coming.

-"Is that fucked up and evil of me? To feel relieved I left on time? I feel so awful it's crazy! A man died!"-

A weak, nuisance man died, Terry wants to correct, but instead he settles into the act of collecting your tears with the tip of his fingers, letting none of them escape, feigning outrage, yet partially feeling said emotion in it's most genuine capacity; Jeremy died! Fuck sake, who cares! This guilt would evaporate and you'd find it fading overtime, because he'd be here to ensure it fades; there was almost nothing meaningfully positive for you to vindicate or romanticize and far too much crappy and mediocre to actually mourn or remember fondly. That was the good thing about measly, middle-of-the-road, middling, lukewarm individuals; too grey to be turned into saints and too grey to be turned into devils. The only thing one could do with them, whether one wanted to or not is to forget them. Where he could easily replace them and everyone else you ever trifled with, usurping their very vacancy and every emotion sent their way, be it good or bad. All of it. Only his. -"Fucked up!? Huh!? No way! It's not! Are you even listening to yourself!?"- He shakes his head vigorously, letting his disapproval grow visible, pulling you close, until the side of your body melts with his and you're effectively there, drying up your tears in his embrace, the open sea breeze against you. Terry grabs your face with both hands, making you look at him. -"You wanted a normal, stable life! Of course you did! Who wouldn't!?"- Terry explains, separating his gaze from you for but a second to point the tip of his nose out towards the blue expanse of the sunlit Atlantic.

[vintagexherry]

Look-a-Like

Yandere!Nathan Bateman x Reader

//Obsessive themes, Non-con, OOC (?) Nathan, Domestic Violence (like 1 slap), god complex, delusional, unprotected sex

A/N: Watched Ex-Machina like last month and wanted to write for him, the new theme may or may not inpsired by him

●○●○

You paused, your eyes trained at the robot standing in front of you, copying your posture.The robot, or rather Nathan, has a peticular sense of fashion. Fashion in the sense of the robot wearing a sexy version of a french maid outfit.

Your eyes may roam around it's body but the face always caught your attention.

"...That's me"

"Glad your eyes can still work," He boredly mused.

"Is... Is there a reason for it to look like me?" You hesitantly look away from the piercing gaze of the robot to look at Nathan, loughing at the couch in front of you, drinking the whiskey the robot gave.

"Can't I surprise my secretary?"

"Well, surprise is what you exactly did."

He huffed a laugh at your words. He didn't say anything else and stood up next to you to admire the robot in front of you. Although a bit wobbily in his steps, he is somehow still able to stand up straight. The power of this man is questionable.

You both looked at the robot, you busy wondering the actions of Nathan while Nathan himself is just admiring his handiwork.

"Does my look-a-like really need to be wearing that?"

"You're right..." Nathan said

"thank yo-"

"....Shoulda made it only wear the apron."

You looked at Nathan in annoyance, but he doesn't seem to care. Typical.

Working with him has been hectic. You first started as a temporary assistant until he had given you a promotion to be his official secretary. The pay is great, and living conditions are stable.

As stable as Nathan can be.

During your work, you had to go to another country to attend a seminar that Nathan didn't want to go to. Coming back after a month, you were surprised to find a robot version of you.

Specifically an maid.

You let out a sigh and took out a tablet.

"Anyway, the seminar went great, and the company you've been wanting to work with has approved of your proposal." You said as you swipe around the tablet.

Nathan didn't really seem to mind what you said and just looked at you.

"Something the matter sir?"

"Thought I told you to just call me Nathan sweetheart?"

"And I thought I told you to not call me that."

"Touché" He huffed but smirked nonetheless.

Suddenly, he stood up straigther seemingly to remember something.

"Why are you still in business attire? C'mon, as much as I find that skirt hot, It would be much better for you to change and relax with me."

You seem to think over his words, I mean, you just came back from a flight from another country, then another to a helicopter to his house, and you are feeling the effect of jetlag so maybe his right.

But you're not gonna tell him that. You don't wanna feed his ego.

With that, you sighed and accepted his request to change. He informed you that your luggage has already been transported to your room, and clothes are freshly prepared.

"Once you change, meet me outside for dinner." He didn't wait for your reply since he already started going on his own way, and you didn't waste your time going to your own.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"Oh wow... Is this your "welcome back" party for me? I must say, Im impressed. " You mused as you walk into the dining area, the space filled with soft lights, and the table is decorated with candles. It seems like the food hasn't arrived yet.

"Glad you're properly 'surprised' now." Nathan says as he sits down at the head of the table, waiting for you to sit.

You sat down adjacent to him.

"So tell me about your travel, what was the place like?"

"Well, where should I start? The place looked wonderful as ever, fancy chandeliers and so, although the food wasn't really my taste." You chuckled at your own words, remembering the appetizer almost making you vomit during that time.

"Oh and the CEO of the company you worked with, gentleman really, he and his wife been planning to travel out of the country and-"

"Yea, im gonna stop you there." He suddenly interrupted you.

You flinched at his actions, wondering if you did or said anything wrong. Sure you and Nathan are close but as Nathan could be, his unpredictable and you? Just a secretary working under him.

"The place? I was asking about the place?" He said his eyebrows raising a bit as if to note the obvious.

"O-oh yea, the place, really nice, they had a chocolate fountain and uh... White chocolate fountain in there, and um... A garden... With a fountain," you stated, unsure of what to really say about the place since you were busy trying to talk to people. You know Nathan could have mood swings. The first he could be jolly as they could be, but the next, he could snap you in half.

"Fountain huh. Pretty is it? Let's Say that if I build a fountain right outside where I workout, will that make you stay?"

You sigh.

This conversation.

You had this with him before. You hope your appetite could stay until the food comes.

"I told you, Nathan, Im a secretary, you gave me that position, and I work for it, and Im sure as hell that secretaries don't just stay in one place." You gently tried to reprimand him.

"And how many times do I tell you that you could just do all those work here?"

"I did try to invite you to come with me, Nathan. I mean, living here secluded of human interaction isn't really healthy." You know for a fact that your look-a-like robot did more work than serve him whiskey. You try not to dwell too much on that thought, not wanting to ruin your own appetite.

"Human interaction? You're the only interaction I only need." He said as if its the most obvious things in the world.

"Nathan-"

You were cut of when the robot look-a-like arrived with a tray of Rosttiere Chicken and, on the other hand, a bowl of smooth mashed potato.

Seems like your appetite didn't really go. The smell of the chicken seemed to bring it back.

But you swear you can never get used to the sight of yourself serving you.

After placing the food onto the table with a bottle of wine between you two, you started to dig in.

"You know, I planned to shut her down and bring Kiyoka back."

You hummed in acknowledgement, your mouth still filled with food.

"But seeing a version of you in a maid outfit is eye-catching," He said jokingly, laughing at your reaction.

"I really only made her on a rush once you left, so I haven't programmed her to talk. Heh, you should have seen the outfits I tried on her. You should try it too."

You rolled your eyes as his words. He never held back with his comments, even admitting he had sexual fantisies of you. You guess your used at this point.

"And get humiliated? No thank you."

You both chuckeled.

●●●●

"....And yes, we will update the software within the upcoming week....No....I told you it's not a bug, and all you have to do is restart it, No sir I'm not being disrespectful"

Nathan watches you from the CCTV as you talk to another secretary from another company on your phone while you pace around the living room.

It's already 9'o clock in the night and Nathan just finished fucking your look-a-like since you too busy being "Im your secretary,not your fuck toy" typa gal. Sheesh ever heard of fun?

He sighed as he watched you end the call frustratingly and lightly threw it on the bed. After that, you head to your bathroom to get ready for bed.

With that, he shut off his computer and leaned back on his chair.

His eyes turn to look at the robot lying down behind him. He really should pat his own back for this one. He even captured how your sleeping face looked like, and he could feel himself getting hard again.

Maybe he should really start programming the robot with a voice, but he never really heard you moan...

Fuck... If only he could.

If only you could stop being a bitch and listen to him once. Sure, he gave you that position, but the least you could do was thank him. He once tried removing you from that position but the next thing he knew was his schedule and meetings all messed up.

Damn you for being good at your job.

He let out an angry sigh before forcefully dragging the robot to his bed and pushing her to lay down.

Your face gazes back at him with want, of course it would, he made her to look at him like that.

But would you really look at that to him?

He shakes his thoughts off and proceded to do what he do best.

He dropped his pants to the floor and started mounting 'you', kissed 'you', caressed 'you'.... Made love to 'you'

But try as he might, its not working.

It was'nt moaning, it wasn't calling out his name, it wasn't touching him like he wants too.

IT wasn't YOU

Before he could even think, he pulled out, punching the face of your imposter, pulling out the fake skin it holds and ruining his own work.

But he doesn't seem to care.

Metallic parts are flying everywhere, his angry shouts and grunts fill the room as rage plows through his fist onto the robot's face and body.

He doesn't know how long it has been. But once he regained himself, Nathan find himself looking down at smashed metallic parts and his knuckles bruised and bleeding.

He didn't even realized he was panting.

Fuck you.

And your pretty face

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

It was morning, the soft sun rays fill the room with light, and you we in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the two of you.

Weirdly enough the look-a-like isn't here nor is Kyoko, but you don't mind, having a moment without robots can be healing. Maybe Nathan should try it.

Speaking of Nathan, here he comes.

But you froze in your place.

"Nathan? Are you alright? Your knuckles..." You turned off the stove to drive your attention fully to him, you lift his hands to your level with surprising ease from him.

His knuckles are shaded with different red, blues and purple, and is that a piece of metal?

"What were you doing last night? Come on, I'll fix you. Breakfast can wait." Without waiting for his answer you held his hand and lend him to your room.

You took your card on the other hand opened your door.

"Go ahead and sit, I'll find my aid supply." With that you left him be and went to your bathroom to look for the said aid.

Nathan didn't really sleep well last night, too busy rampaging his emotions on that one robot, then he had to clean it out. Cleaning, I mean by pushing the wasted robot off the bed and dusting off his pillows. As of right now that robot's remains are laying right on his floor in a pile of metal.

That's what it's all is.

A pile of metal.

Something that he shouldn't be proud of, and that's saying something.

His a creator, a god even. Why is his creation isn't as perfect as it should be?

Well, maybe because he just created a copy. An unoriginal work. An imposter.

He didn't sleep well that night with his thoughts drifting into dark waters. His thoughts would drown into treacherous waters and he finally slept when he finally thought of his Lighthouse. His home.

You.

You lifting his hands to check his injuries, you leading him to your own domain just to treat him without hesitation. Oh,his lighthouse, just there to save him.

He didn't even realize you came back, only he did when you kneeled down while he sat up.

"Alright give me your hand."

He silently obeyed, and you proceeded to take out cotton balls and clean off any dried and leaking blood.

"You're awfully quiet today, didn't sleep well?" You questioned as you finish of cleaning his knuckles.

"Something like that..." His own voice surprised him, it was all throaty and rough. I mean that would explain the screaming and shouting he did.

He watched you as you finally took the bandage and started wrapping it around his injuries. Your soft hands encompasses his cold and unforgiving ones.

Once you finally finished, you cleaned and closed the aid box and stood up from your place.

"Alright big man, no punching the bag for awhile. You can go ahead and finish breakfast, I'll clean up real quick." You notified him as you start standing up.

You didn't go far since toned arms wrapped around your figure and stopped your movements, hugging you close.

"Nathan?"

"I..." He doesn't know what say. Doesn't even know how to start.

Odd.

You stopped your movements and observe him closer. Your hands put down the aid box and without thinking you placed you hands on either sides of his face lightly.

The feeling of your touch is enough to wake him up. Honestly, a robot? Why create something do useless when there's you in front of him. Why make that robot serve him when you could be doing it instead. That bitch of a imposter really deserved that beating.

Plus, he's been a saint. Being patient, giving you a promotion, caring for you especially after a long flight.

And you?

Ungrateful.

Caring, yes.

But ungrateful.

Sure, he's thankful for the aid you did for him, but honestly, you could do better

"Nath- Ah!"

Your vision suddenly flipped, and you find yourself laying down on your bed and Nathan on top of you.

"N-Nathan!" You exclaimed, not expecting to be flipped to lie down.

"I've been nice, really nice... But you really push me to the breaking point here, sweetheart. I've given you a job that every technician out there wishes for, and you can't even show how grateful you are." He seethes, his temper rising slowly, yet voice is calm. His gripping your wrist at each side of your head, and you can't help but whimper in pain.

"Nathan wh-"

"Shut up, you ran your mouth enough"

He didn't waste time ripping off your shirt and pants off of you. You shouted his name to stop him, but it did nothing but come out of the other ear.

"Nathan stop!"

"I've made you work in luxury for so so so long, even did a better job than anyone else. But you just had to ruin it with that of your stuck-up attitude."

With that, he finally dove into your lips, kissing you roughly, uncaring your whimpers of pain.

You're nothing but confused. Yes, Nathan is unpredictable, but this is another level.

Nathan finally let go of your lips and you inhale back the air you need.

"Na-Nathan ple-"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

Your vision suddenly swerved to the side, the next, a stinging pain to your cheek.

He slapped you.

How did a peaceful day of making breakfast turn to this?

Nathan saw your silence as a sign to continue tugging down your undergarments.

You knew talking is futile, so you tried moving your body out of his grasp.

"Stop moving or I'll fucking chain you into the bed."

You stopped, but you can't stop the tears from sliding down your face.

Nathan finally removed your bra and panties, leaving you bare before him, still with his own clothes.

He moved your wrists on top of your head and held it with one hand, the other groped your breasts roughly.

"Shit... Softer than I imagined." He didn't try hiding the memorization in his voice.

Maybe you were right, the lack of human interaction really fucked him up but, he was also right. You're the only human interaction he needs.

Nathan ignores your desperate squirming when his hands let go of your breast and lead down a path to your pelvis.

"No-no please Nathan please!"

"Don't make this harder for yourself"

He said with a snap as he fingered your slit gathering whatever he could to finger you properly.

You squirmed even more, trying to free your hand from his hold but, with it he only tightened it, making you wince from the grip.

"This is better than every robot combined, and that's saying something, you should be proud."

Nathan didn't want to waste anymore time. He untied the string of his sweatpants and pulled it down, revealing his dick to you, and you can't help but start to cry.

Once again, your cries are ignored.

Nathan can be patient, working with electronics and expirementing A.I is no easy feat.

But that all crumbled away with you.

He didn't waste a single second thrusting into you, before you could scream, he quickly dove to your lips. Devouring your whimpers and moans of pain along with it.

Tears stream down your face onto the pillow, wetting it, but Nathan could only focus on what's wetting his dick.

His pace is rough and desperate, longing to feel you even more. His lips couldn't stop occupying yours. Finally, he let go of your lips, letting you gasp in a breath. As he thrusts into you more, his hand went from holding your waist to flicking your clit with his thumb, making you moan louder.

Your sounds did nothing but encourage him further, his pace faster, signaling his close

You couldn't help but tense at the feeling, clenching down on his cock while you came, your legs shake from the action, making him spur even further.

"Shit shit sh- Fuck!"

He quickly pulled out letting his spend paint your skin white.

Some of the warm liquid trickles down to your stomach and drip to your sides. His eyes mesmirized with the sight of you, all messed up and dazed from orgasm.

Nathan always prides himself with his accomplishments, his company, his riches and his robots.

But nothing could make him more proud than destroying that look-a-like and finally having you the way he wanted too.

[little-bloodied-angel]

As someone who's permanently physically disabled as a result of an abusive relationship some of y'all's takes on Izzy are fucking UNHINGED. Like "I hope you never go near an abuse survivor, EVER, in your life" levels of revolting. I shouldn't be struggling for breath with a panic attack after trying to scroll through a blog for pictures but here we are.

Nobody, nobody, can ever deserve being physically mutilated by someone they trusted. Nope, not the assholes either. And nobody can do that to someone else and claim it was their fault for being an asshole. And nobody can traumatize MULTIPLE PEOPLE and point to that other person as the source of the problem. What the FUCK are you talking about.

(ok to rb but if you start arguing that "well, actually" I'll block you)