#was it the abuse and manipulation that made up their childhoods?

[doloridis]

if i see one more person erroneously compare a.licent to c.ersei i am flipping my lid, i'm throwing a table, i'm dropping an atom bomb––

#first of all get it right the real parallel is a.licent and s.ansa #SECOND OF ALL. can we stop the 'a.licent/c.ersei is an evil cunt' train? can we just stop it #i don't think it's outlandish to say that they should both be seen as cautionary tales - examples of women who are #violated by the patriarchy to such a degree where the only viable option of retaliation for them #is GREATER violence. #'hur dur dur these women r evil' even if i say yes. EVEN IF I SAY YES. what do u think made them that way huh #was it the abuse and manipulation that made up their childhoods? #the loveless marriages to old dudes while they were still kids? #the way they were reduced to walking wombs in those marriages? #everyone hated c.ersei but loved j.aime and honestly. if a.licent was a man he'd be given so much more grace and understanding

[sticksbatnix]

“Tell me, Stewart, what caused you to leave your family and join the Jokerz?”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

Ghoul kept his eyes on his fingers, the pads of his thumbs connecting before getting off and then connecting once more.

Instinctively, he shrugged off the question, as he did with many other doctors before him, he didn't think this one was any different. But upon realizing where he was and who exactly he was talking to his brain clicked and he immediately fixed his posture.

Hands-on his knees, back upright, and his eyes nervously trailing up to the doctor before him he fought not to gulp.

“I mean it was for kicks, you know, I just wanted to have fun. I never had fun with my family. They were all sophisticated and shit, which pissed me off. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to leave, if I didn’t, I’d go crazy.”

Ghoul laughed a bit, expecting the man to laugh with him only to get nothing so he coughed afterward.

Crane leaned against his chair, the weight of his body making the seat creak under pressure. The teenager before him nervously pinched the seams of his pants, an immediate reaction to the sounds of the notes he was taking.

This was one of many typical reactions given by his patients.

“When you say ‘kicks’, what does that mean to you? Is it a new term used nowadays or…, “Crane trailed off, waving his hand to prompt Ghoul to answer.

And Ghoul did answer and with confidence too, smiling as his then nervous posture turned slightly relaxed.

“I wanted to be free, like every other kid down by the sidelines, I wanted to do what I want whenever I wanted. I remember looking at the-uh-delinquents at my school and watching how they got into trouble and I grew jealous. Like, I wanted to do that, I wanted to break the rules, mess some shit up, and whatnot.”

Crane gave out a nod, writing more notes as Ghoul kept on ranting.

Agoraphobia: The fear of fitting in.

Typical amongst teenagers, their desperation to fit in involves their imagination of what could or should have been. Something Crane has faced in his younger years, much too foolish of him to do so as said peers he looked up to beat him into a bloody pulp.

What made Stewart’s situation any different?

“What else piqued your interest in them?”

“I saw how they changed their uniforms, how they talked back at teachers, how they skipped class, how they did everything against the book! Shit-I wanted to do that-why couldn't I do that? Why couldn't I do that?” The teen trailed off, licking his chapped lips as he did so.

“I wanted to join them, I wanted to be them, but I was scared.”

For that, Crane’s dead eyes stared down the teenager, if it was possible, his eyes might have shined with life.

“Scared of what?” He gave a slight pause, “Who?”

“My mom, “Steward whispered under his breath, yet the answer was somewhat strained.

Crane noticed the teenager change his posture once more, the relaxed posture then turned stiff and still. And, as if the teenager were a robot, he corrected his posture a little too fast, his hands quick to push back the hair that hung over his shoulders.

Crane has seen this type of behavior before.

That sudden change of passion within his patients the moment they talked about their parents.

Whether it was by their mother, father, both of them, or even by other relatives; it was all the same to him.

They all fixed themselves the way their parents would have liked them to be.

With Stewart, the second he mentioned his mother he instinctively fixed himself as if he was waiting for someone to tell him something. Almost like he was showing how well he tidied himself up all by himself with no issue and he was waiting to be praised for it.

“What about your mother, Stewart? What made you so afraid of her?”

He can see it, even with poor eyesight, the dead man can see the pale teen’s eyes shine with tears. But almost immediately he wiped them away the second he started to bounce his knee up and down.

“She wanted me to be perfect like she was.”

Atychiphobia: The fear of failure.

His students had this phobia, Crane remembers one of them breaking down during finals and how much they begged him for a passing grade. They all didn't want their parents to look at them and be so very disappointed in how imperfect their child was. With Stewart, the doctor can see how far this fear was embedded within him, even from the day he was born.

He wasn't even looking him in the eye.

“The second that I was born all she ever did was force me to be perfect. I was the firstborn, and two more after me but they don't matter, what mattered is that I was the first and the first has to be perfect, right? So, I tried my best to be perfect.”

For this, he crossed one leg over the other.

“Boys don't cry, she always said that, because boys turn into men and men don't cry. Because a toddler crying over falling was too much, sure, fine, believe that.”

He crossed his arms.

“She looked deeply into my eyes and told me if I ever get an F, I’ll make her cry, I didn't even step into school and it was my first day too. I felt like shit the entire day and nearly broke down when the teacher said I didn't set my desk right.”

He huffed.

“Bitch had a fit hearing me push a girl down at recess, she hit hard on my ass and told me she isn't raising a wife-beater. She didn't let me explain I pushed the girl down because she stole my pencil!”

He leaned back on his chair, his hands grabbing his arms so hard his nails dug into his very skin.

“Set an example for this family, “she said, “you’re the firstborn son, you can't mess this up, if you do, so help me, I don't know what I’ll do!”

He dug deeper.

“I knew what she was going to do, she knew too, and fuck, if I wasn't scared shitless then I wouldn't know what else would by now.”

He was shaking his head, wiping another tear from his eyes as he finally set his leg down and started to bounce it uncontrollably.

“And your father?”

“Work, always work, when he came home he always asked about school rather than how I was feeling. He treated the same as my siblings too so honestly I wasn't alone in how worthless I felt to him. But dear old mom had his attention but I'm sure it was because she took the stress out of him every night when he came home.”

“Were you ever afraid of him?”

“Nah, it wasn't much on fear but more on resentment. All I ever wanted was to see that man just give me one look, just one, and tell me he was proud of what I'd done. But I didn't get that, all I got was a scowl because I got a B on math, because yeah, that's what you need to be upset about. Not the red marking of Mom slapping me on my face, but a goddamn B on math.”

Stewart scoffed again, raising his arms in defeat before he let himself sink into his chair. He was still shaking his head, still avoiding eye contact, still wiping the tears from his eyes, and still bouncing his knee up and down.

“I don't know what else they wanted from me, I think they just wanted to kill me from the inside rather than out.”

Crane took a few more notes down before he too fixed his posture on his chair, the noise it made the young man flinch. For a second he raised his arms like he was expecting someone to catch him in the act of talking against his parents. But upon seeing the dead man once again take notes about his unaccounted mental health, he slightly relaxed at that revelation.

Slightly.

“Stewart,” the doctor finally said, “why did you really leave your family to join the Jokerz?”

Stewart shrugged.

“You heard what I said, I didn't want to be a little miss perfect anymore, I was sick of it, so I left.”

“No, Stewart, there's more to it, there's something you’re not telling me.”

For that, the teenager looked annoyed, yet the doctor persisted, pointing an accusing finger at the teenager with his pen.

And as if an invisible force overcame the teen he flinched back at the accusation.

Fear of confrontation, perhaps?

“What was it, Stewart? What was it that set you over the edge? What made you run away and never turn back? What you told me before was building up to something, but that something has to be so despicable that it guaranteed you that you were never allowed back into your family!”

He was shaking now, his bottom lip quivering.

Yes, that must be it!

Fear of confrontation!

Was there a phobia of it?

If not, he’ll have to make one for himself!

“What was it, Stewart?”

“I told you, I-”

“Did you tell your mother off?”

He looked angry and then confused.

“Yes-no-I mean-”

“Did you curse your father out in front of his business partners?”

He looked shocked.

“Why would-”

“Did you make your siblings do the dirty work?”

He was angry again.

“No, God no, they wouldn't understand!”

“Understand what?”

His words were cut short.

“What was something that they couldn't understand?”

He wouldn't let him answer.

“What did you do that they couldn't do, Stewart?”

He’ll build up what's been repressed for so long.

“What made you so afraid not to admit to me what happened all those years ago?!”

The truth will come out.

“BECAUSE I BROKE HER VASE!”

Stewart raised himself out of his chair, blond hair flying over his shoulders, face elongated with fury as he knocked over the chair he sat on.

“I BROKE HER DAMN VASE, OKAY?!”

He raised his arms in the air, waving his hands around like he was possessed. One pulling at his golden locks and the other shoving at nothing in the air.

“I broke that fucking vase she kept fawning over every single day and night, “he screamed, “that damn vase was worth more than my life!”

He was pacing back and forth now, his ranting erratic, and words jumbled over each other the more he talked.

“Every day I would see her caress the damn thing like it was her child; like it mattered more to her than to me or the others. She’d clean it herself, made sure every side was polished and refined like it was brand new and every time I’d come up to it she’d scream at me to not touch it. She’d hit my hands with hers if I ever so made a move that looked like I was going to touch it! It didn't matter if I was bleeding by the time she was done she’d just go back and look at that vase again!”

He started to pull at his hair, Crane saw how strands of it had begun to fall to the ground ever so gracefully.

“But it was more than that, Doc, “he’ll have to correct him on that later, “it-it wasn't just the vase!”

Stewart was crying now, tears spilled out of his eyes like a waterfall, his hands now clutching at the sides of his head.

“It was everything that she owned! Her makeup, her clothes, her paintings, her vases, her collectibles-GOD-EVERYTHING THAT DIDN'T BREATHE WAS SO SPECIAL THAN I EVER WAS!!!”

He dug into his scalp before proceeding to pull at his hair again, only this time, he pulled at the roots.

“I couldn't take it anymore because you know what, Doc, it wasn't just that vase that set me off, it was my school. Yeah, my school, I failed a grade and I was going to take Summer classes because I was a complete dumbass throughout the course daydreaming of a life I couldn't have! I flunked everything and as soon as my mom knew she didn’t even look at me and the more she resented me the more it ate me up on the inside.”

He then grabbed at his chest, pulling at the seams of his shirt.

“It felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest, I couldn't breathe, Doc, I was on my KNEES begging for my mom to talk to me! I was crying like a baby, there was snot down my nose and tears were messing up my collar, but all she ever did was look in the mirror and fix herself up.”

He sniffed up the snot that ran down his nose, his pain didn't come to him as he once again looked away from the dead man.

“And by the time she was done, she was already walking out the door with everyone else. Dad was already in the car, my siblings were all dolled up for the pictures, and my mom was the one with her door on the handle. And she looked at me and she said-”

And then he looked, dark eyes staring at the endless abyss of the dead man’s eyes of a doctor he alone brought back to life.

Barely a few seconds passed before Crane made the move to talk.

“What did she say?”

And then Stewart gagged, strangely enough with a smile.

“That’s the thing, Doc, she didn't say anything, she just left me, “for that the teenager gave out a shrug, spitting out another cry before setting himself down on the floor.

“But that look she gave stuck with me, it's always stayed with me, even now. That night she just left me with that look permanently engraved into my mind. And I just got up, empty, and walked off in my home, alone, and didn't stop until I was right there in front of that damned vase.”

He raised his hands in front of him like he was holding something, and for a moment he just looked at them.

He looked at the imaginary object, his mind yet connecting with the real world, Stewart looked onto the vase that his mother loved so desperately. And before Crane would realize it, Stewart raised the imaginary vase in the air and smashed it into the ground below, hard.

And as if he was consumed by this memory, the dead man in the shadows watched on as a young Stewart looked upon the mess he had created.

At first, the young teenager was terrified, his pale hands coming up to his sweaty face about what he had done. His mind rushing he bent down to pick up the pieces before he suddenly stopped and was suspended like a statue. His dark eyes wandered the mess for a moment longer, maybe too long, before he raised his foot and smashed a large price into two.

And below the crazed blond hair that tangles itself onto the broken mind of this child, Stewart began to smile.

And he raised his foot and he continued to step all over the vase. And then he started to grab a few more pieces before he began throwing them all around the home. The ecstasy that overcame the boy grew when he had seen the scratch-made on the wall caused by the shard.

It was then Stewart picked up that said piece and began to carve it onto the walls of his home.

He carved whatever words, letters, and signs he could think of at that very moment. His smile grew wider as he scrapped no doubt expensive wallpaper in his already expensive home. But his mind didn't catch up to the thought of getting in trouble-no-his mind was relishing in the release of all the pain and suffering he’s been through by doing what he's doing now.

Up next were the other vases being pushed over either by hand or by a rough tumble to the very object that held them up for so long.

He was laughing now, using different shards of the vases to tear through the paintings held up on the walls of his home. The once luscious paintings depict rather a melodramatic setting of happy family life than being torn apart by a boy no older than the new Batman!

And Stewart didn't stop there, oh no, there was more!

Next, he ran into his parent’s room, one foot stumbling over the other in his excitement. The first thing he knocked over was his mother’s makeup table, everything used and new all knocked over and stepped on by the teenager. And before long he grabbed at the many pale lipsticks his mother wore, took off the caps, and proceeded to write all over the mirrors.

Every derogatory word directed towards that woman was made and the teenager then went over to her closet. And, of course, every expensive dress, blouse, skirt, and even undergarment was torn to shreds by hand. No mercy or thought is given as they were all thrown into a pile, all treated like trash by the boy.

Then the bed was ruined, whatever was under it was left alone as the boy had enough trauma to deal with. The curtains were then torn from their hinges, the soft silky fabric torn like the clothes it was carelessly thrown into a pile like the others. Once again, the boy wasn't satisfied with the destruction so he moved over to the carpet and rightfully tore it up until he saw the ground below.

The entire room was in disarray, nothing could ever help to rebuild what has been lost. And if it was rebuilt, then the memories of what had transpired will forever be engraved into the minds of those who saw it for themselves.

Stewart didn't stop there either, but his reign of destruction ended merely when his mind finally caught up to what he had done. Fear did cross his face before complete satisfaction quickly washed over and a soft chuckle ran through his chapped lips.

“Shit.”

Picking himself off the floor, Stewart ran off towards his room, bypassing the chaos he left in his wake. Twisting his body through the door he closed it out of instinct, yet the Doctor was still with him, watching ever so intently.

And by watching, Crane saw that the boy ran into his closet and saw him open a hatch underneath a shoe rack.

Ah, a secret place to hide his belongings, truly a teenager at their finest!

And through this secret passage, Stewart took out his prized possessions, items that he wouldn't dare show off to his mother in fear of disappointment. Heels are designed with a pointy tip, pants fitted with torn shreds at the bottom, a shirt depicting either a skull or a pumpkin engraved onto it, and a top hat with a pointy tip with a belt strapped to it like the one with his pants.

The only thing left now was his pumpkin.

The teenager dug through and brought out a makeshift jack-o-lantern, from which items within have been stacked to the brim.

It wasn't long before Stewart had stepped out of the closet as a new man, wearing clothes that he could only dream about. He stepped in front of the mirror, looking ever so proud of himself for what he had done and what he looked like now.

He united the tie that strapped his hair back and let his long golden locks fly over his shoulders.

What was once something his mother would constantly complain about concerning his masculinity wasn't a problem anymore.

His mother’s words did not concern him at the moment, what did concern him was how he was going to get out.

He didn't want to go through the front door, despite it being this time of night, he knew the eyes that watched his family did so. So the teenager went off towards his window, his room simply at the end of his lavish house, he opened it and looked down at the backyard.

He made a move to look back like he could have stopped and maybe turn his life around, but he looked forward. He braced himself as he stepped off the edge of the window and onto the roof before jumping off onto the ground below.

Crane watched on as Stewart walked off into the woods that hung at the side of his home. The hill merely downpours and integrates itself into the buildings of the ever thriving city of Neo-Gotham itself.

From within the jack-o-lantern, Stewart took out a phone and dialed a number only so few knew about.

The phone rang three times before someone picked it up.

“Yellow?”

“Chuck, it's me, “Ghoul muttered through the line, “I’m ready.”

Then, everything was back to normal, at least, that's what Crane had believed before setting his eyes over at the child before him.

The boy that had been born and lived a luscious life that everyone dreamed of left it to live a life of crime. Truly, a tale told to any misbehaving child to appreciate what they have in their lives and to never throw it away because, in the end, it’d be hopeless.

And here was where it got him.

Stewart was on his hands and knees, his breathing labored, eyes still wet with tears, hair still wild, and skin still drenched with sweat.

The room around them had turned over itself, no doubt the direct result of his fit of rage. His anger set forth and unmistaken, the others surely would have heard this, no doubt they could be listening from the other side of the door right now.

“So that’s how it happened; from beginning to end, that's how Stewart Carter Winthrop III became the Ghoul that stalks Neo-Gotham as we know it.”

Ghoul sniffed up the snot and gave a small nod, wiping more tears from his eyes.

“Yeah, that's everything.”

“Everything?”

He looked away for a moment.

“I-uh-wet my bed until I was fourteen?”

Crane made one final note in his notebook before eventually closing it with a satisfying ‘thud’ and picked himself right off his chair. He went over to the teenager who struggled to comprehend what just happened in the last ten minutes or so.

Catching the doctor’s eye, Stewart flinched, his mind still fresh in his early memories of his childhood; he didn't quite pick up what was happening. But the pale hand did not hit him, it simply stretched out in a comforting manner, and with that Ghoul held on and lifted himself on his still tingling legs.

“Stewart, I want you to realize what happened to you was not your fault.”

Ghoul scoffed, “I know.”

“No, you don't know, “pale hands rested on his shoulders and gave him a slight squeeze.

“All your life fear was used against you, to control you, to make you less than what you actually were. Your mother used fear to grow you into an idealized man that she could only wish would come from your father. But she failed and you want to know why?”

Stewart nodded, his eyes nervously over at the dead man’s own.

“She failed because you were stronger than her, better than her; you’ve conquered your fear that very night to do something your mother would have never done. You became Ghoul not because it showed your delinquency towards the world, but because it would have made your mother afraid of you.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, Ghoul, afraid, “Crane smiled underneath his burlap mask, seeing the sudden twitch of a happy expression across the teenager’s face excited him.

Or maybe it was because he used his real name, but the doctor chose the ladder.

“That night you showed your mother what you were capable of; destroyed what she held close to her heart, made her feel the fear within her when she saw what you had done. Imagine it-she went home thinking you have still been defeated by the power she held over you, that you were still broken under her rules. But then she realized something the moment she opened the door; do you know what that was, Ghoul?”

Ghoul felt his heart skip a beat.

“Uncertainty-no-fear.”

Crane gave out a chuckle, shaking Ghoul by his shoulders.

“Yes, fear, she felt fear! That raw emotion that controls our lives affected her the second she opened that door, maybe even before she opened it! But I guarantee you, the more she looked through her home to slowly find everything destroyed; the more fear grew within her.”

It was clear now, how could he not have seen it?

It was dark on the inside of his home, only the moonlit the hallways across as well as the rooms. The lights wouldn't be needed as the destruction was enough to make her realize what had happened.

Did he think she was robbed? Did she care to call out his name in anger or fear of his life?

Did she bother to go into his room to see if he was alright? No, of course not, why would she bother.

She’d be too busy crying over her vase, her makeup, her clothes, and even her room.

Only his siblings would have been the ones to see the open window in his room, they must have looked in jealousy, no doubt. That he had finally freed himself from the troubles of their home and fled into the nothingness that was Neo-Gotham.

But, oh, what he’d give to see her face.

The shock, the uncertainty, the horror, the fear!!!

“She must have been scared out of her mind, “Ghoul found himself muttering under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching to a smile.

“And I didn't even get to see it.”

“Oh, but you will, “Crane reassured the teenager, “but for that, you’re going to have to change.”

“Change?”

“Yes, Stewart, change. Change for the world to see who you really are underneath all the pain and suffering you went through in your life. No more will people look down on you because of what you dress up as, the life others would dream of, or even judge you on how you live as now.”

The grip on his shoulders tightened but that did not seem to faze Stewart at all. It only confirmed that what was happening was the real deal.

“You can show everyone that you’ve conquered your fear once and for all, and show your mother that her fears have become a reality!”

His smile grew wider, mind rushing on the possibilities of the near future, and even on what he could be but better!

“Do you want to see her fears become a reality, Stewart? Do you want to see your mother realize all her hard work and dedication resulted in what you have become today?”

He didn't even think all that clearly, the image alone of his mother screaming was enough for him.

“I do.”

This time, he’ll finally be the one to show his mother who’s above who.

#holy hell I am exhausted #I am proud yet terrified of what I have made #poor ghoul #he's been through so much #and Crane just eats that up #tw: mental health #tw: abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: parental abuse #tw: manipulation #tw: childhood trauma #tw: child neglect #tw: child abandonment #btas scarecrow #scarecrow #the scarecrow #batman #btas jonathan crane #jonathan crane #the new batman adventures #tnba #batman the animated series #btas #batman beyond #batman beyond ghoul #stewart carter winthrop iii #my writing

[yellowis4happy]

Thank you for the most succinct comeback to Whatserface’s idiocy I’ve ever seen. No waffling, no trying to argue your point, just a quick ‘there is something deeply wrong with you’ and a block. Beautiful. She’s going to keep trying to link your name now and get you to unblock and debate her, because that’s her kink or something. I’d suggest reporting her, and blocking any of her followers who try to debate you for her by proxy. I’m sorry, you are right that there is something deeply wrong here.

She can do whatever she wants bc I've already forgotten her username 💖

#but yeah there is truly something extremely wrong with anyone who wants to argue that finn had an easy childhood in any capacity #obviously in canon both he and anakin had horrific childhoods #but anakin at least like. had a mom who loved him. had a name #had a teacher who raised him like a baby brother #and a wife #finn had none of that #also these people like to pretend that anakin had no agency in turning which is BIZARRE #thats the entire reason why his story is tragic!!! #bc he made an active choice to do the wrong thing! #he was being manipulated but he wasnt without choice #and he certainly wasnt being abused #thats what also makes finn a beautiful character #he had nothing but brainwashing and abuse and he still knew what the right thing was and chose that #despite the grave danger it posed to himself #anyone who can look at these writing choices and boil it down to ''anakin did nothing wrong'' #or ''finn didnt get to know his family before he was stolen from them so he was LUCKY bc he didnt know what he was missing'' #is too fucked up to engage in argument #star wars #replies #anonymous

[snekdood]

me and my boyfriend were having a conversation earlier about how creepy my dad is and how he 1 used to spy on my mom w binoculars in his car across the street after their divorce (she got a restraining order luckily) but also 2 i remember him threatening to kill my mom and her current husband and i said something about how "i used to be scared i'd see him outside of my window watching me, even though he would probably just go after my mom i was worried he might try to kidnap me-"

and then it all clicked for me. the reason zero is the way he is is bc of my dad. the reason my comic is the way it is is bc of my fucking dad!

#like yeah he has elements of my brother and sister too but ultimately they suck bc of my dad. esp my sister. #anyways hes maybe one of the worst ppl in the world actually! #vent #learning more and more that if someone reminds me of my dad? i gotta fucking avoid the shit out of them. my sister does. my brother does. #and so does my abusive ex. i just remmebered getting that weird vague feeling when i was with them but brushed it off. I really fuckin #shouldn't've though goddamn. right down to the compulsive lying and extreme manipulation tactics. oh and the wanting to kill me shit #bc i dare make them ever view themselves in a critical light ig. #kinda like what happened with my mom and dad!!!!!!!!!!!!!! today has been rough emotionally :)))))))))))))))))))) #wish i could say its empty threats but hes an actual republican and has a shit ton of guns so yeah. doesnt matter how empty it is #everyones still gonna assume the worse when you're compiling guns and talking about killing someone you claimed to fucking love #and for him? it really was all about losing power over her. if he couldnt have her no one did. which was ironic bc he never even #fully appreciated her when he was with her and made fatphobic jokes about her. but suddenly she wants to leave and its an issue? #ig when the person you claim to find so unappealing rejects you too it bruises harder if you're a narcissist who relies on building #yourself up by putting people you claim to care about down. #and then he used me and my siblings as pawns in his game. in his 'war' against my mom. #this is why my ex has been so predictable this whole time... ive literally lived through it. it was LITERALLY my childhood #everyone but me believed him when he started making justifications for the way he physically abused her. but thats the #thing about ppl who are abusive in this way- slowly everyone starts to realize they're lying. and the only ones who stick around #are the ride or dies with no standards for themselves.

[highpri3stess]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 2: Shots Fired

pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader x Izana Kurokawa

series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: izana kurokawa decides he has to teach you a bitter lesson that you wouldn't forget any time soon

chapter warning: 18+ dark content, misogyny, religious themes, smoking, mention of drugs, brief description of child abuse, childhood trauma and sex work, violence (against both character and reader), emotional incest, night terrors, allusions to sex, sexual harrassment, mention and brief description of rape, asphyxiation (non sexual), manipulation, slut shaming, near death experience, sexual assault, noncon, oral (m.recieving), face and throat fucking, attempted murder

Please read ending credits for important annoucement

wc: 7.5k

masterlist||chapter 1||chapter 3

  IZANA mindlessly fiddled with his lighter as he leaned on the wall, waiting diligently for Emma.

Unlit cigarette between his lips, his purple eyes scanned the people leaving the English department one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. A small vivienne Westwood shopping bag hung between his fingers loosely, perched beside his faded out black jeans. There was no way that Emma would avoid him in public at least, not with the entire student population watching the both of them. He knew that his little sister hated being the subject of rumors, no matter how trivial it could be.

His plan has to work. It just has to.

Whatever bullshit Mikey was spewing about you being the key to getting Emma to speak to him, can go to hell. He and Emma had a strong bond that transcended anything casual. This was his little sister he watched for the first eight years of his life, a bond doesn’t just break like that. Not over a stranger.

Not over you. Over your dead body.

A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape like a moron, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.

His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him for more than a day before, usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.

All because of you.

Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought men into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain.

Izana knows he’s not the best person to be around. Emma may have been young when she left their mother’s home, but Izana had stayed there until his teens before going to the orphanage, enduring unimaginable horrors. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma.

And little by little, his humanity was slipping away.

First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet. The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.

Now it was you. Taking the space in her life that belonged to him and him only. He was fine sharing with his younger brother, no matter how much that little shit pisses him off but now, you’re pushing both of them out of the equation. How could someone so insignificant be so important to his sister?

He took more puffs, letting the smoke out through his mouth. He skimmed throughout the campus once again, nervousness creeping onto his consciousness with every passing moment. Had he missed Emma?

‘Has she gone to her room already? Don’t tell me I missed her-’

His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind. He stood up straight tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.

Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly. A shocked gasp escaped her lips, her head twisting fast and her free hand even faster to hit him.

“Get off me - Izana?”

Her hand stopped mid air, inches away from the smirking male’s face. He noticed her tension leave her body, relief washing over her, only for irritation to take its place on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.

A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.

“Were you scared?” He teased her, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, his arm hugging her tight despite the irritated glare she gave him in response. “You know that as long as I’m alive, no one guy would ever have the balls to hurt you. Unless they want to die.”

“Stop joking about things like that.”

‘I’m not.’

Shaking his head, he decided to change the topic to what he came here for originally. “Here I got you something for your…” he sneered at the thought of Draken being near his little sister. “date with Draken.” He released her from his side hug before extending the perfume bag to her with a smug look on his face. “It’s Vivienne Westwood, your favorite.”

His hand hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes rapidly looking at the bag to his face before her lips curled into a sick sneer.

“Are you insane?”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! How many times have I told you that this is not a situation you can bribe me out of! Not this time!”

Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. They were wise enough to hide that they were staring, so as not to piss Izana off even further after she left.

Izana kept his composure, still holding out the bag towards Emma with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’

“Easy Em, I said it was a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth. In his own opinion, you were the one in the wrong for wearing such a provocative outfit, showing your body off. He was just trying to tell you off so that you would be more decent next time when you’re around seniors. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”

“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your stupid mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”

“Calm the fuck dow-”

“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”

“Excuse m-”

He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.

It hurt.

“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”

The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.

It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat. He can see the flash of regret in Emma’s eyes, the way her face changes when the weight of her words crushed the both of them.

Suddenly he was sixteen again, thirteen year old Mikey taking Emma’s place and uttering those soul-crushing words to him after another fight. It was just a silly xbox game that Shinichiro forced them to share, one of his many futile attempts to make them get along with each other. Izana remembered how he looked at all of them. Mikey. Emma. Shinichiro, hoping to god that it was spite that fueled Mikey’s words, not conviction.

“It’s not true right? Shin-nii? Em?”

The terrified look on Shinichiro’s face sealed Izana’s fate forever.

“I-I-i didn’t mean i-” she starts to stutter, tears gathering in her eyes. It’s obvious that she can recognize the heartbreak in his violent hues, blankly staring at her, disappointed. He wants to say something, but all that manages to come out is air. Of all the things she could say to him, why did it have to be this one?

“Izana please-”

He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression when he eventually snapped. He ignored Emma trying to reach him, shouting his name at the top of her lungs with strings of apologies as he walked back to where he bike sat.

“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.

“Izana please I didn’t mean it! I’m so-”

Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise.

"THANK god you’re not my real brother.”

Izana narrowly avoided crashing his bike into the tree right next to the house, hitting the breaks just in time for the bike to stop.

‘It’s all that fucking bitch’s fault!’ He seethed ‘That useless excuse of a human being caused this.’

You. An unimportant little rat that scurries around his little sister. From the first day Izana set his eyes on you, an intense hatred filled his gut. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him. He hated everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma when you talked about the most mundane of things. The fact that Emma would cut short their outings just to see or meet up with you.

Just your mere presence in general. He couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand losing his beloved sister to you

Blinded with rage, Izana throws his helmet on the tree with a guttural scream, breaking it in half. Unsatisfied with his rage, he clenched his fist and stalked towards his fraternity house, ready to beat up the first person he set his eyes on.

The doors of the fraternity house were thrown open by Izana. Shion was the first person Izana just happened to set his eyes on, the blond carrying a box of tools in his arms as he headed towards Ran’s bedroom. The taller male turned his attention just as Izana was entering the house and smiled at him.

“Hey boss, did you see your lil si-”

Izana pounced on the poor man, sending the toolbox and a confused Shion to the ground, shattering the glass table underneath them. Ignoring the broken glass digging into his skin, Izana slammed his fists straight into Shion’s face, dealing him powerful blows, cursing you as he beat up Madarame.

“(name) you stupid slut. You ruined everything! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you-”

“Izana!”

“Stop it! You’re gonna kill him.”

Two sets of hands pulled Izana off Shion, dragging him away from the injured man. Ran is quick to help Shion up from the floor, holding the barely conscious male up. Eyes burning with irritation, Ran turned his attention to Izana who was held back by Kakucho and Mucho, heavily breathing after his rage induced breakdown.

“Izana what the hell man?” Ran cursed at him. “He was supposed to help me set up my humidifier. Look what you did!”

“Let’s take it easy, Ran, it seems like Izana had a bad day.” Kakucho reasoned, still holding Izana away from lunging at Shion once again. “You know he’s only like this when he’s stressed-”

Ran put his free hand up, silencing Kakucho completely. His violet eyes moved to Izana who was still huffing and puffing, still in Kakucho and Muto’s grip. “Look.” Ran sighed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t want to deal with this anymore, Izana. You can’t keep taking out your anger on us. Especially for that (name) girl.”

Izana growled, his teeth clenched against each other at Ran’s words. Deep down, he knew Ran was right. Each time he saw his gift in the dustbin, it would send him into a panic induced rage and end in hitting one of his friends. Beating up everyone that wasn’t you was not the solution at all. No matter how violent he got, it still wouldn’t change the fact that his sister doesn’t want him anymore.

And it is all your fault.

Eventually, Izana relaxed, breathing through his nose gently. The two men released Izana once he calmed down before helping Ran with the barely conscious Shion to his room. The white haired male now left to his devices, crashed onto the chair, his hands on his knees. If he was going to get his sister back, he had to do it right. Maybe teach you a bitter lesson that you would never forget. Punish you for angering him and changing his little sister into something else.

Anything really, to satiate his anger.

His hand fished out his phone from his pocket, going straight to his contacts. Purple eyes rested on a familiar name, one that he hadn’t spoken to for the past eight months after a hookup. She tried to elevate herself from a hookup to his main girl, texting him non-stop and throwing herself at him.

Pathetic.

Izana liked thrill and adventure. Women who were wild on the dance floor and even wilder in the sheets were his favorite, for the same reason he loved riling up Mikey. The dopamine rush.

Sex was a drug to him. Not necessarily a favorite, just something he got a high from that was different from cocaine or LSD. The experience was a thrill, bodies meshed together in bliss as they gave into carnality until they fell over the edge. It was why he couldn’t stay with the same girl all the time, eventually their holes get accustomed to his dick and they try forming attachments to him. It gets boring.

Like this one.

He dialed the number and not even up to a minute later someone picked it. “Izana! Hey babe!” She chirped. Izana bit back a groan to avoid voicing his displeasure. She was so fucking annoying. “It’s been so long. Do you want to see me tonigh-”

“You’re (name)’s roommate right?” He could hear her deflated sigh from the phone and decided to butter her up. “Don’t worry, she’s not my type. Just need her schedule for a friend.”

“You sure?”

Izana rolled his eyes before deepening his voice to lure her in. “Sure babe. You’re the one I wanna see tonight. I see the cute pictures you sent to me. The one with you wearing those cheetah print panties, your bare tits hanging out is my favorite.”

“Really?” She sounded so excited that he liked something she sent. Pathetic.

“Really.” he breathed out. “You should wear it when you come here tonight. That is, if you tell me about your roommate’s schedule.”

“Alright!” She began excitedly, the prospect of being Izana’s girl tonight looking very tantalizing, to the point she is willing to sell out her friend. “I’ll tell you everything I know baby!”

Izana shook his head. Too easy.

  YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.

It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself. Not to mention, studying.

But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.

Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. And you try to reject him, you try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped.

But this time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of every thing you hold so dear and you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.

You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.

The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgment for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.

No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.

You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.

 Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.

You were so, so tired-

“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.

Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”

You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”

You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard you’ve been sleeping on the job, for sure he was going to fire you, especially when he was angry you rejected his advances on the first day. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.

“No mam” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”

“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”

You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologized to her.

“What is going on here?”

You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”

“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”

Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying against you is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”

“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologizing profusely for your so called rude behavior. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”

You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well. You better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”

“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”

You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.

Your skin crawled as you felt his gaze roam your body up and down, before regaining his composure again. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”

You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here to see that tight virgin body of yours roam around. It’s not like you’re even good at this kind of job.” He spat out, rolling his eyes. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”

“But s-”

“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”

You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.

No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.

  THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.

By the time you managed to catch a bus after your walk of shame and get back to campus, almost everywhere was dark and deserted. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.

You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 12am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.

A long time ago, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.

Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.

“Can you show me the book?” your father had asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.

Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you “women don’t dream.”

Maybe that was the day you stopped loving your father. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars.

The memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.

You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this.

You passed by Emma’s dorm building, another sigh escaped your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.

Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.

It was already complicated before it began.

Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.

A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available.

‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’

Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realize that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatized you.

‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘How far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’

You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched by someone or something.

Silence.

You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Night time always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.

You should just try to get out of here.

Still, the nervousness and unease you feel doesn’t leave you. Your heart rate became abnormal as you started walking faster, only for you to hear mismatched footsteps behind you.

‘Run.’

You sprinted away as fast as possible, not even bothering to look back to see what was chasing you. At this point, all that was important was for you to get into your dorm room as soon as possible, the fear of the unknown running down your spine.

Your lungs burned from having to sprint at full speed after not exercising for years now, your leg muscles aching but you dare not stop running from what might be behind you. A glimpse of light peeking through the cracks of your dorm house beckoned you to run even faster, until you reached the door.

Your heart rate picked up as you attempted to twist the door handle open, only for you to realize that it was locked early today -of all the times that the school took security seriously it just had to be now. After a few more frazzled and failed attempts, you started pounding on the doors and screaming for anyone to let you in. “Please! Open the door, I’m being chased! Help!” You screamed frantically, shaking the large doors with how hard your fists hit them. “Open the door-”

Unfortunately, your luck ran out and nobody answered you or said anything. You kept on screaming as footsteps approached you, slowing down as you harshly pounded on the door for someone, anyone to help you. Your cries became even more frantic, shouting for help anywhere, anyhow, fear taking over your rational senses.

‘God please, please, please save me, please please please’

A loud blood curdling scream rips out of your throat as arms around your waist and chest before dragging your body into the nearby bushes, discarding your bag on the floor. Your limbs flail around, trying to hit your attacker in any way so that they can release you, and you can run back to Emma’s dorm.

All it did was enraged them.

The person threw you on the ground, the grass and dirt harshly brushing against your face and body, dirtying your white skirt and jacket. You attempted to get up, only for someone to jump on top of you, pushing their weight onto you so that you can’t.

‘No. No. No-’

You reached up to the person’s chest, trying to shove them off your body, but they didn’t budge pushing themselves further onto you. You decided to use your long nails to scratch them, drawing three long lines on their cheek, anything that could distract them so that you can fight back.

“You bitch.”

Your world froze over the moment you recognized that voice, heartbeat almost stopping completely. Your eyes fearfully locked with his bloodshot purple ones staring right back at you, silver hair reflecting in the street light just a few steps ahead of you.

‘Izana-’

What did you even do to him? After the Mikey incident, you avoided the brothers like a plague, not wanting to piss them off or a repeat of what had happened. You even told Emma she should start talking to them, so why was this happening to you?

Before you could scream, his fist came in contact with your face. The pain was unbearable, black spots clouding your vision as you tried to make sense of what was happening. He hit you again, this time on your jaw, forcing you to bite your tongue so hard it bled.

“This is what bitches like you deserve. This is what you get when you don’t stay in your fucking lane.” he spat out, slapping you across the face hard, your eyes rolled back and blacked out for a second, only for him to keep beating you up, emphasizing on each syllable with a violent slap. “Everything was fine until you came. You evil little bitch. You ruined everything!”

Tan hands found purchase around your neck, both pressing down until your air supply was cut off. Panic filled your gut the moment you looked at his face once again, eyes blown out wide, teeth gritted against each other so hard, it could crack. His face twisted grotesque with how hard he was looking at you, white dust scattered around his nostrils. You reached out to his hands, clawing and scratching at them until you drew blood, kicking your legs so that he’ll become unbalanced and loosen his grip.

It was as if he was immune to pain. Nothing you did worked.

“I’m going to kill you.” He hissed slowly, bending his face towards yours until his hot breath hit your skin. “I’m going to kill you and send your dead body to Emma. Nothing will EVER come between me and her. I’ll kill anyone that comes between us!”

‘God. God. God’

You watched as his lips curled up into a smile at the frightened look on your face when you realized how serious his threat was. Your nails dug harder into his skin, tears rolling down your face as you fought for your life. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. Alone, terrified, in the hands of a crazed man and his vice-like grip forcing you to stay in place.

Izana loved every second of it. Watching you tremble in fear as you fought back was nothing short of priceless. Sure he was holding back majorly because this was a lesson, but watching you beg for your life whilst fighting him has his blood rushing down to a particular place.

Eventually all your fight gave way to fear of death. You didn’t know when you started begging for your life, until your lightheaded brain began to register that the garbled, choked and broken pleas and apologies were coming from you.

“I’m s-orry, i’m so-orry- s-orry-”

You don’t know how long you’ve begged, waiting for death to take you while your body writhes in agony. Your eyes glance up to the moonless sky, memories of your younger self flashing before your very eyes, staring at the stars with wonder, dreaming of being amongst them. Your head feels light, your eyes unfocused and body turning cold-

Your eyes shot open the moment his hands left your neck. Instantly, you’re gulping for air, coughing and sputtering as he sits on top of you, his hands on either side of your head. Izana scrutinized you under his watchful gaze, eyes drinking in the sight of your mascara running down your bloodied face, glossed lips parted open for him, taking in air.

You’re so… weak and powerless underneath him, unable to do anything and yet you fought for your life, knowing you would lose to him.

That rawness of fear that acted up as your life flashed before your very eyes shifted something in him. You’re just a weak girl. A weak, vulnerable little girl who thinks she has a bark that he can do whatever he wants to her.

He almost cannot believe the boner growing in his pants right now. He’s never felt this way for you. Meek girls were always so boring to him and yet he wants to fuck you. He wants to claim you as his own personal toy only he can play with.

The familiar thrill, once again. He’s feeling it with you.

You’re still coughing and sputtering as you lay on the ground when Izana mindlessly gets off you. He’s conflicted within himself, wondering if he should leave you for another time or relieve himself there and then. There’s just something so sexy to him about your helpless body at his mercy, he could decide if he wanted to take you here and you would never be able to fight back.

His eyes flickered to your open mouth. That will do.

“Get on your knees.”

Not wanting to take another chance at life, you obeyed instantly ignoring your body aches as you kneel in front of him. Your mouth goes dry when you hear the clinking of his belt and his zipper go down. He moves closer to you until his crotch is right next to your face, shuffling his boxers until his cock springs out, slapping your cheek hard before resting his tip on your lips.

No.

Not again. You can’t go through this again. You already have nightmares of Mikey raping you, you didn’t need Izana there too. 

“Please, I don’t want-”

“Open your mouth.”

You gulped, forcing your eyes closed as your lips parted, opening it for him just enough for his cock to enter. “Izana, please. I’ve never done this before. Please don’t make me do this. Pleas-” you tried to beg, but Izana did not care, rubbing his shaft with pre leaking from his tip.

“Unless you want me to kill you, keep it open.”

A hand reached behind your head ignoring your protests holding it in place as his cock forced its way into your oral orifice, hitting the back of your throat with a loud groan of pleasure escaping his lips. Your gag reflex acted instantly, making you want to pull away but his hand was too strong, forcing you to stay put and take his cock.

Izana wasted no time, his hips rolling his cock inside your wet mouth at a brutal pace. Strings of curses left his lips with each thrust, relishing in the euphoric pleasure of riding your face, fucking into your pretty little mouth. The hot tears rolling down your cheeks, spittle pouring from your lips and the vibrations of your gagging nearly drove him mad.

Why hadn’t he done this earlier?

“That’s it -fuck- you little slut.” Izana hissed, each thrust into your mouth making a loud, wet pornographic noise. “This is -ahn shitshitshit- what you’re good f-for.” He groaned, his hips thrusting faster into your mouth. “Ahn, ahn ugh- f-fuck, s-should h-have fuck-ked you a-at that party ahn-”

You felt dizzy as he continued assaulting your mouth for his pleasure. Dark spots began to gather around your vision as he increased his pace, choking hard on his fat dick with each roll. Your knees ache from digging into the ground hard, your fingers buried in the sand as he fucked your mouth with reckless abandon.

You don’t think you can stay awake anymore. Your head hurts from how hard his grip is. Your throat hurts, your knees hurt, your head feels like you’re floating with how you’re not breathing properly.

You don’t feel good. It hurts so much but you can’t fight back.

“That’s it- ahn ugh fuckfuck-” he quickened his pace to speed up the process of his orgasm. Makoto had only given him three hours, and he is sure they’re almost up. “Yeah, this mouth is for me! Only for me-ahn ahn- you’re my fucking tight slut. Mineminemin- ah-”

Izana thrusted deep into your mouth thrice before cumming hard, pushing his bitter cum down your throat with a low groan, his purple eyes rolling to the back of his head. At the same time, your body instantly gave out, going limp in his hold as his cock slid out of your mouth, falling on the grassy ground with a dull thud.

He adjusted himself again, tucking his now flaccid cock in his pants and wearing them properly. Izana gave you one last look, glancing at your unconscious body before laughing to himself, kicking your shivering form out of his way as he started his journey back to the Tenjiku house.

“Perhaps Mikey was right. You have some use.”

Bonus scene:

LOVE hated mornings.

Groaning at the fact that she had woken up so early in the morning - 5am to be exact, when her first class was by 2pm, the gyaru tried going back to sleep.

After tossing and turning underneath her blanket, the girl huffed, pushing herself off the bed until her feet touched the ground. Running her hand through her blond hair, she sluggishly walked towards the door, careful not to wake her roommate up.

“Maybe I should get some air, I’m sure it’ll help me sleep back.”

The girl found herself trudging out of the dorms, pushing the door open for her to leave. Not even two steps out of the dorms, Love tripped on something, falling face first on the mahogany floors.

“Ouch!” she hissed, grimacing as she sat up, rubbing her nose. “I just got this nose job done. What gives-”

She stopped short on seeing a blue bag with books scattered everywhere. Her hand reached out to one of them with a name written on it.

“(name) (last name)?” She read it to herself, scoffing the moment she recognized who it was. “That girl always follows the Sano girl like a lost pup. Tch. What’s her stuff even doing out here?”

Deciding not to care about the bag, she dropped the book back and stood up. “Whatever, I’m going on my walk.” She shrugged, walking away from the building to the empty roads. The morning breeze danced on her skin, playing with tendrils of her bleached hair as she walked.

Despite the peaceful aura, Love couldn’t feel at peace with herself. A sense of nervousness crept upon her as she walked, as if there was something wrong. Come to think of it, maybe she shouldn’t have left your bag just like that. It was strange to see your stuff left on the porch.

Unless.

Love didn’t know why her feet started taking her to the hedge just across her dorm building. She was always told that from her young age, she had a heightened sense of danger and as of now, she didn’t doubt that something was wrong.

“Alright. Let’s see what’s going on.” She breathed out, opening the hedge completely.

Her stomach dropped the second she caught sight of a white skirt dirtied in the sand. Quickly, the gyaru ran over to where your body laid and stopped, gasping at the extent of the damage done to your face and neck. She knelt over, picking your unconscious body onto her lap. Her fingers checked for a pulse, realizing how weak it was against your cold skin.

“Oh no, no.” Her voice trembled, throwing off her comfy jacket and wrapping it around you to warm you up. “This isn’t right-”

As her fingers started to dial the emergency number, she wondered what you could have done to deserve this. Yes you followed Emma around, but you were a good girl who hasn’t done anyone harm. Love had always seen you as too sweet, so whoever did this to you was evil.

“Please, stay with me, (name). Stay with me.”

The line finally went through and an operator spoke. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“A girl… a girl was attacked, please hurry, her pulse is weak.”

Special thanks to: @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @kokoch4n3l @aliss0n-love-blog @haikyuusboringassmanager @eattmeowt

monica's after note: honestly, after everything that has happened to me last week, I debated if I should put this chapter out or just give up on the project completely. the only reason i put it out is because i made a promise to myself to finish this series this year and i already have the skeletal work drafted out.

please it doesn't take anything for any of you to be respectful to me and yourselves. if you're angry that an author is delaying posting a chapter a few weeks always remember that we are real people, with real lives. the bigoted and racist comments i got last week should be the first and last i should ever see on my account. you saw that i made due with my threat and posted this as i said i would. if you wish to send anon asks, i apologize but they are off permanently. this is also due to the misbehaviour of a certain individual that caused this. do not also go to my mutual's inbox and start talking about me.

to everyone who supported me and sent me support throughout that difficult period of my time on here, thank you very much. you inspired me to keep going and really did not taint my image on this fic. i pray each one of you finds help in the day of your trouble. y'all are real ones.

on a lighter note, i'm pretty salty no one got my haruchiyo reference in the first chapter 'laugh haruchiyo' 'smile (name)' like cmon 😭😭😭 it was THAT obvious /j

edit: please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Forgot to add this.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa smut #izana kurokawa x reader #izana kurokawa x reader smut #izana x reader #tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #sano manjiro x reader smut #mikey sano smut #tw. dark content #read the warnings #tw. noncon

[messiahzzz]

i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).

there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.

we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.

which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.

leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.

there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:

“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."

even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.

evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.

another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #mystra #yes again ugh #i know we have been through this so many times #also another thing i forgot to mention: #apparently there are several ending variations where gale relinquishes the crown of karsus to her #but mystra only temporarily stabilizes the orb and doesn't remove it #huh #this was a long one sorry #bg3 meta #grooming cw #abuse cw

[wandasfifthwife]

birthdays ✩‧₊˚

— hockey!wanda x fem/afab!reader

all you’ve ever known is a skipped birthday, a missed celebration. your first birthday since you’ve started dating Wanda rolls around, what would happen if she forgot it too like your mother did?

tw: HEAVY TOPICS, discussions of past trauma (physical/verbal abuse, parental neglect/control, manipulation), established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ HAPPY ending, discussions of thoughts spiraling (r wonders if W loves her anymore), R’s coping style is to separate herself, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: this is the fic that won from this poll (it “won” at whatever it was at when I checked it after my exam)

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

The only time you can remember having your birthday celebrated was at school. It was the closest thing you had to a birthday anyways. The little goody bag your teacher would make and the birthday song sang to you by your classmates. Though your mother never showed up to parent lunch, or gave you presents, or even acknowledged your birthday—you still blindly thought she was a good person then.

If you had done well in school, at practice, and at home—she’d gift you with new ice skating equipment. Something she was going to give to you anyways, but tried to do it as positive reinforcement as a kid. The other positive reinforcement she gave just so you’d get in the ice? A form of alone/bonding time with her. She’d only discuss what was necessary, eyes strayed away from your own.

You were so blind to her manipulation, getting you into the sport only for her to use it as a weapon against you. There were times you enjoyed the sport, but it’s hard not to think of your mother when you enter on the rink since you’ve spent most of your childhood with her on it.

Once she got arrested and you were moved to live with your older brother—he tried to celebrate your birthday. For a few years you wanted to forget about it and you had, you never celebrated it except for your brother’s family leaving notes on your desk when you had stayed with them.

And now today was your birthday.

You had gone to bed with a slight twinge of hope in your heart that a birthday spent with your girlfriend would be different.

It was 7:43AM, in seven minutes Wanda would be reaching to turn her alarm off. You usually don’t wake up this early, used to sleeping in while Wanda left for practice, but today you couldn’t help it. You had been wondering how she’d greet you when she woke up. What a birthday would be like with someone who loved you.

She looked surprised to find you awake after she turned her alarm off, puffy eyes widening just a bit.

“Woah, what’s got you up so early?”

You smiled, “nothing.”

“Hmm,” she pressed a kiss to your forehead before throwing the sheets off of her, “I’m not complaining.”

You felt giddy almost, a childlike joy overtaking you. Would she take you to dinner? You’ve heard that’s what couples do at work. Or would she take you somewhere? Would she give you a gift?

“I have practice until later today, but I should be back tonight—like 1PM?”

“Okay,” you chirped from under the covers, excited to get another kiss from her before she wondered into the bathroom to put her hair back. It only takes her a minute, throwing her jersey on loosely and pulling her bag over her shoulder, her keys jangling as they hang out of her pocket.

“Be back later, love you.”

“Love you.”

It made your heart twinge just a bit at the fact that she got up and left without saying anything. Maybe mornings weren’t the normal time to say happy birthday yet?

You spent time doing work from home, finishing tasks your boss assigned you to do. It made time fly and before you realized it was almost 12PM. You were about to get ready for the day but stopped when you received a text from Wanda, telling you that she won’t be back until later.

That’s fine. She’s probably just picking up something. It felt selfish, all of these thoughts felt self-centered. This day shouldn’t be about you, you shouldn’t expect it, but here you are. So you put off getting ready, wanting to be freshly put together when Wanda came through the door.

1PM turned to 3PM and 3PM turned to 6PM.

You received a few texts from your phone, seeing family and a few work friends wish you a happy birthday. It mattered, but it didn’t satisfy the way your heart was breaking. She would remember, she’s not your mom—she’s above ignoring such a day.

You know she cares, so why in this moment are you beginning to question everything? Heart turning from glass to stone as you recall memories, ones usually sweet, and overthink her words and actions as hatred. Maybe this whole time shes been showing how much she dislikes you but you’ve been blind to it just like how you had been with your mother.

It was dinner time now, and you’ve seen videos on social media and heard on the grape vine that couples go out to a nice dinner on a special event, such as a birthday. This could be a surprise, maybe when she got back she’d be dressed and ready, driving you to your favorite place.

She hasn’t yet called to texted you, giving you the idea that she’s coming home soon like she said she would be. You took the time to get ready, enjoying every minute for once until you were dressed nicely. You found yourself on her couch, waiting while scrolling on your phone.

You checked back and the time read seven.

After watching TV, the time read eight.

Until nine, until ten, until your phone lit up the room with her contact information. You let it go to voicemail, not wanting to let her know about how you’re crying in front of the bathroom mirror.

It’s ugly, dry heaving cries filling the bathroom. Each one making your throat and head hurt just that much more. Your heart ached. You felt naive, stupid to believe someone would genuinely love you. Turns out on your birthday she would leave you alone.

You decide to sleep, guessing Wanda wouldn’t be back until way later at this point. You had hoped to avoid her but by stepping out of the bathroom you walked right into.

“Oh!—oh.”

You know she can see the glimmer on your cheeks, how your eyes are all puffy and bloodshot. You felt choked seeing her. She’s in a different outfit, hockey back still slung behind her like you’ve become familiar with.

“What’s wrong—?”

“Nothing,” you say, brushing past her to quickly grab the pajamas you wore this morning and shutting yourself in the bathroom again. She had apparently left to take a phone call from her dad, thankfully giving you space to calm down, collect yourself, and crawl into bed. Now lying in her bed feels weird; it doesn’t feel like home as much anymore. Fear grew in you at the thought, what if she’s going to kick you out soon? You’ve heard that happens when relationships fall apart, and the pain you felt thinking that sentence over took you.

You tried to stop the upcoming crying session, pressing your hands into your closed eyes or staring at the ceiling. You’ve had heartbreak, just not one with a relationship, it’s be a new kind of pain. Sharing intimacy with someone only for them to use you in the end.

The door creaking, signaled Wanda’s presence. She sighed seeing how you’ve turned away from her, sitting on her side to lean an arm and rest it on your thigh.

“Hey love, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

You ignored her attempts to console you, and in a really really strange way you congratulated yourself—you weren’t able to do this with your mother and you saw how that ended up.

But oh how you wanted to turn around and hug her, hear her heart beat as you lie on her chest, feel her press a kiss to your cheek and tell you everything’s going to be okay. Once you hear her breathing even out you let out a few more tears, already missing Wanda even though she’s laying right behind you.

The next morning Wanda’s shocked for a different reason. You wake up at a normal time, but you’re complete off. She’s decided that maybe you need space, maybe something happened that you’re just keeping to yourself and will tell her later. She’s not just decided, she’s hoping because she can’t stand to see how you’ve been. You’re a shell of it. You don’t kiss her back, you’ve stopped engaging in conversation, and you barely look at her.

It’s now been two days since your birthday and Wanda’s grown increasingly worried. You’ve always climbed in bed, back facing hers for the third night in a row and it’s enough for Wanda to pull up your brother’s contact, raising her phone to her ear after hitting the call button.

“Hey, this sounds very intrusive, but has something personal happened within the family recently?”

“Uhh no—why?”

She explains how you’ve been, how sudden and drastic of a change your mood has been.

“Can you tell me what day you remember her starting to drop?”

“Two days ago.”

“I’m not going to assume you did because I fucking hope this didn’t happen. Two days ago was her birthday Wanda, is there—?”

His voice trails off as the room freezes. That’s why you were up early, full of smiles and joyful expressions. That’s why you’ve become distant, looking uncomfortable any time she expressed her love.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no—“ she mumbles, tears growing in her eyes, “shit—I forgot. I forgot. I don’t know how, but I did.”

“Shh, hey calm down,” your brother says over the voice, tone stern and light, “this doesn’t take away my frustration with you, but calm down—you’re not going to get anything done with a heart rate of 120. Apologize and make it up to her. You really don’t even have to do much—you can literally just get her a small gift and wished her a happy birthday and she’d be over the moon.”

“No—no, she deserves more than that.”

“She does. The intention of what I just said was to show how low the bar was set. She’s not had a ‘birthday,’ Wanda—so anything you could’ve done yesterday would’ve meant the world to her.”

“It would’ve and I’ve done nothing,” she says and he agrees.

“Yes. But I know your intentions, I know you’ve just forgotten—but she doesn’t. Just make it up for her, be intentional and loving and she’ll come back around.”

So that’s what Wanda set to do. It was late but she still left, driving in her car to the nearest cheapest store to grab decorations. It started with decorations before it moved to gifts before it moved to cake. She set out to create a basic birthday day for you.

It was a sight to wake up to, finding balloons on your ceiling and streamers hanging around her apartment. She was downstairs with your family, your brother smiling and recording you once you’ve begun to walk out from her bedroom.

“What—?”

“Happy birthday.”

You take in everything as best as you can with how your eyes have begun to grow wet, blurring your vision. It looks like the photos you searched on wiki as a kid of what a birthday decorated room looked like. Your brother continues to hold the camera poised on you, emotions overcoming him and his wife. The entire time Wanda’s been standing in the corner, growing nervous when your attention lands on her.

She’s holding her arms out wide when she saw you take a few steps towards her. You’re wrapped up so tight in her hold; your deep cries breaking her heart all the more.

She coos, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“You set all this up for me—when did you have time,” you ask, voice squeaking from how sore your throat has become.

“It is all for you, I stayed up late last night to set this up.”

And her efforts didn’t go to waste. You wonder just how much money she burnt through last night seeing what she had bought. Your brother had an itinerary, moving you around to each event.

You had to stop and cry multiple times—feeling grateful and also a little bit embarrassed about being so emotional over something so minor to most people. The whole time they kept validating your feelings, full of understanding and kind words to help you get along. There was your favorite food, dessert, presents, and your favorite people.

Once your brother’s family had to leave—saying something about having to get Tyler to hockey practice since he has a game coming up soon—Wanda pulled out another gift.

“I thought of you when I saw this,” she said, taking out the necklace to place it around your neck. It had the word, “loved,” on it, diamond encrusted and small.

“Why’d you think of me?”

“The man asked me to choose out a necklace with a saying that made me think of you. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of how loved you are.”

You begin to tear up yet again, laughing dryly as you try to wipe away the tears, “I need to stop crying, I’m going to get a headache.”

“I’ll just take care of you if you do.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh more, but you thank her with a squeeze to her arm.

“I’m serious though. I’m really sorry for not treating you the way you deserved on your birthday. I love you, and I’ve never been this serious about anyone before.”

“I love you too,” you say, kissing her back when she leans to kiss you; feeling like your hearts begun to be placed back together when you feel her wipe away at your tears.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

#competing series #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #Wanda x afab!reader #wanda maximoff fic #marvel wanda #wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff x afab!reader #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #Wanda #wanda mcu #wanda marvel #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #Wanda fic #Wanda fanfiction #Wanda fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #marvel women x reader #marvel woman #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fluff #hurt/comfort

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Montresor is the Bad Ending of White Raven

So Montresor has a religious trauma. And from what little we know of the flashback to his death, the man was apparently a corrupt preacher.

What that tells me about his life made me crack my knuckles, because holy shit, this guy is an even better villain than I expected. And not for the reasons I thought at first.

Montresor's possible backstory

A fun fact: "unholy men" used to be called "sons of Belial". Same as Monty's Spectre type, so there's the initial connection, but with what we saw in chapter 87, this phrase from his mother resonates quite a bit:

Montresor was most likely a bastard (literally), and if he was raised in a religious community, that immediately made him and his mother outcasts. Possibly his mother hated him for "ruining her life". Whether this is true or not, the implication is that he grew up a victim of a system that decided he was sucked by the devil from birth.

In this light, Montresor's attitude towards the world is actually a logical consequence: he has decided that abuse is the only way to relate, and you can either be the victim or the victimizer. Of course, he is now the victimizer.

But he decided that because life taught him two lessons that were important enough to make him the person he is now.

"I know this game better than anybody"

We know from the clothes and hat in his flashback, and the cross around his neck, that Montresor was a preacher. And I would venture to say an excellent one: he has heard all his life that he is a demon, he knows better than anyone what terror hell produces in people, so he knows exactly what to say (or not say) to manipulate others through that fear.

Montresor, like Annabel, is someone who exploits his own traumas.

Annabel has been almost conditioned to behave like the perfect high-society lady, and that includes going to impressive extremes if it means getting something in return. She has engineered her way through life by identifying the currency of the people around her and knowing exactly what to give them so that they will, in her words "kissing her rings".

Loyalty gained through fear vs. loyalty gained through pretended sympathy.

Same goal.

If the world has made them that way, both Annabel and Montresor will use every last footnote of knowledge gained through trauma to get what they want.

But then there's something else they have in common: this deep knowledge of the rules of the game has also made them both know that the odds are too stacked against them to ever win. In the past, we've seen Annabel throw in the towel on her arranged marriage, but Montresor took a different path, much more along the lines of…

"So I'm not afraid to cheat."

Montresor decided that if people wanted a demon. He would give them one. The worst demon of all, because this one knows the rules: he knows how to play the game, he knows how to cheat and get away with it. We don't know the extent of his atrocities, but given what happened in the flashback and the fact that his idea of a sleepover is stuffing someone behind a wall to slowly suffocate, this guy must have a long rap sheet.

So long, in fact, that he was tied to the tracks of a train to be torn to shreds without even a trial.

Because if the rules are just there to screw you, then screw them: the only option left is to cheat.

Which is exactly what Lenore did when she burned down her house and pretended to be a man to go after Annabel. Lenore jeopardized everything Annabel said was important to her.

And she got away with it. At least until they were both killed (or, if those of us with our chips on Annabel's childhood friend, they may have both died without anyone knowing).

Now, in Nevermore, Lenore is still doing that, as we can see in her reluctance to kill or destroy Montresor: she refuses to play the game, refuses to follow the rules.

She will look for ways to cheat here, as she did before (something Annabel actually expects her to do). The woman is too stubborn to bend, and so far she seems to have the wind at her back (the question is, for how long?).

The bad ending

These elements make Montresor a complete exhibition of the ultimate consequences of taking Annabel and Lenore's attitudes to the extreme: a person who instrumentalizes her own traumas to unravel and try to inflict them on others, and who is not afraid to cheat for her own benefit if it means getting what she wants.

The only thing that separates Annabel and Lenore from Montresor is that they both still use these attitudes in the name of other people: Annabel for Lenore herself, and Lenore for the people she cares about. That both of them (still) seem to have their hearts in the right place.

But if Annabel continues to use her vast knowledge of this twisted game to work her way through people without caring, and Lenore still believes she's above all rules, here's Montresor to show them (and us) what's waiting for them at the end of the road.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee whitlock #montresor nevermore #By the way #I don't want this to be read as me defending Montresor #Just because I believe that his attitudes follow a logic does not make them good or excusable #But that's how good antagonists are written #as a reflection of protagonists #And perhaps we should take whatever happens to him as a dark omen for Annabel and Lenore #And speaking of antagonizing Morella where the fuck are you? Your spectre is the opposite of this guy's

[cursedonyx]

So I had a little realisation about our favourite freckled heathen and his unending cheer and charm.

I think we can all agree that part of Sebastian’s allure is that he is so resolutely cheerful, especially in the first half of the game. He’s upbeat, charming, cheeky and extroverted, always smiling and willing to help. He loses the duelling match against you in DADA with more grace than a 15–16-year-old should reasonably have (especially considering Ominis is absolutely steaming in the background because Hecat almost made him fall over) and he’s willing to take the fall for you in the library, being cheerful with you again the next time you meet.

Sure, he has his moments, like when Solomon yells at him. But instead of engaging in an all-out brawl or screaming match, he removes himself from the situation and asks for a moment alone, presumably to calm down. A very mature thing to do.

It’s only when the relic (and likely Slytherin’s book as well) corrupts him that we see him be more on edge, snappier, more prone to temper.

Sebastian’s constant cheer and charm would lead a lot of people to think that he’s unbreakable, that he could be run over by a rampaging hippogriff and he’d just dust himself off and carry on with a smile and a laugh. And he probably would.

The thing is, that kind of constant cheer is likely down to his highly abusive childhood.

Hear me out.

We know that his parents died before he and Anne got their magic, which, according to canon, is usually around seven years old. So they would have been six or younger when their parents died, but for some reason, I think of it as being about five. Old enough to have precious memories of their parents, but still very young and impressionable.

We all know that Solomon never wanted to take the Sallow twins on, and harbours some insane resentment to the situation they’re in: an ex-Auror now living alone and essentially working as a farmer (he can be seen tilling the fields in Feldcroft) suddenly lumbered with two very small children who have just suffered massive emotional trauma, and he’s not equipped to deal with that. So he takes it out on Sebastian, who resembles the brother he presumably strongly disliked.

Whilst Anne is said to have been the most mischievous one out of her, Sebastian and Ominis, I think Sebastian is the most emotional. He likely would have been prone to let his feelings show, especially as a child, but Solomon wouldn’t have wanted to or been able to deal with that.

The thing is, resolutely tough, cheerful people have often been taught from a very young age that their negative emotions aren’t important. That their feelings are a nuisance. That they will be punished for expressing them, whether that’s through physical correction, emotional manipulation, or the removal of affection/attention. I fully expect that the grieving young Sebastian will have been told by Solomon to shut up and sit down and stop snivelling, or to behave, or to act like a man because he didn’t want to deal with it.

Sebastian will have learned to hide his negative emotions, supressing them in favour of trying to be happy to keep Solomon happy; a far preferable situation for him than antagonising the angry man who’s been angry since his parents died. It's possible Sebastian tried to be strong for Anne as well, who I expect would have withdrawn a lot, and as he loves her so much, he would want his twin to be happy, so he was happy for the both of them and did his best to cheer her up.

Being cheerful is safe. Being cheerful is a kind of protective blanket. Because if he lets himself feel all the hurt and the scary and the bad, he won't know how to handle it, so he doesn't. He just keeps smiling.

Sebastian will have unintentionally learned from a young age, or been deliberately trained to hide or mask his negative emotions at all costs, because the price for displaying them has always been serious consequences. But because he bottles it all up, when he breaks, he breaks hard. When his last-ditch attempt to save Anne with the relic fails, he breaks. Every bit of strength he had is gone, and he's left scrambling in an unfamiliar overload of pain and panic.

And when he has some time to think it through, the effects of the relic wearing off, he's truly remorseful for everything and eternally grateful that you're still his friend. Even before then, when you have to decide whether or not to turn him in, he tells you he's glad he met you, trying to fall back on those last threads of positivity that have held him up before.

That poor lad needs as much love and therapy as our lil blind bestie does.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt

[turtletaubwrites]

Misty Eyes ~ Part 5

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 3975

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Feeling good seemed out of reach, but you'd never felt safer than you do with Law. Safe enough to ask for what you want.

Author's Note: Alright friends, patience is required, but rewarded 🥰

Thank you so much @pinejayy for this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Hair-Pulling, Birth Control, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there!), Forced Pregnancy (Implied/Intended), Sterilization (Implied/Intended), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Soft Trafalgar D. Water Law, Other Additional Tags To Be Added, Fluff, Sexual Dysfunction, Safe words, Choking, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“What do you mea–”

“Nuh uh,” Law scolded, sticking his thumb in your mouth like a hook to pull you closer by your bottom teeth. “You know I could always tell when you were lying. I know you faked it.”

You pulled his hand away from your face, frowning at his shit-eating grin. 

“I don’t know wha–”

“You little liar,” he accused, sitting up. His movement forced you to slide from straddling his waist to sitting in his lap, the feel of his still firm cock beneath you making you gasp. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, even as you scowled at him. His satisfied chuckle made you scrunch your nose, heat burning your face. 

“How could you tell,” you gave in, earning a quick kiss before he flipped you, laughing at you while he laid you on your back beneath him. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Your mouth fell open in outrage, but you couldn’t attack him while he held your fists, kissing your knuckles. 

“I’m an incredible liar,” you squirmed, his weight pinning you down. 

“See what I mean,” he taunted, your futile thrashing making you breathless. “That wasn’t believable at all.”

A frustrated huff left your lips as you struggled to punch that smirk off of his face, but he stopped talking while he kissed his way along your neck and collarbones, so you let it slide. He finally slowed, releasing your hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Why didn’t you just mist away,” he seemed to tease, but his voice was too soft. 

“I…” you paused, about to argue until you realized that you didn’t want to answer. You clamped your eyes shut against that feeling, then opened them again to glare at him. “Don’t change the subject. How could you tell I was lying?”

Law took a moment, seeming to search for his answer, which did not appease you.

“I’m not sure,” he smirked at your disgruntled hum. “You always seemed so… cute when you lied.”

He blinked, looking down as if he hadn’t meant to say that, but you wouldn’t give him a pass just for looking adorable. 

So you bit him.

“Gah, what,” he sat up, pulling back in surprise until your teeth left his arm.

“Two things,” you snarked, propping up onto your elbows, “I want to know exactly what my tell is so I can get rid of it, then I want to hear all about how you thought I was cute back then.”

“So your tells are,” he grunted, catching your fist at the plural word, “sometimes the corner of your lip goes up just a bit–”

“It does not! That’s the first thing I trained out,” you argued, sitting up on your knees to face him. You narrowed your eyes at him while he ran his thumb over the edge of your mouth, until you sighed at his touch. 

“Maybe I just pay more attention,” he mused, voice husky as he kissed your temple. His breath moved to your neck, your need for answers melting away. Until your body reminded you of the moment.

“Uh, Law,” you coughed, pushing him away gently, “do you have a towel?”

He returned from his adjacent bathroom with a warm, damp towel, helping you clean up the mess he’d made before kissing up your stomach and chest again.

“What’s my other tell,” you interrupted, his soft touches ending as he rolled his eyes. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers before moving your own thumb across them. 

“You rub your thumb over your fingernails,” he reported, brow raised as if judging your performance. 

“I do that all the time,” you yanked your hand back, embarrassed that he’d read you so well. Lying was something you prided yourself on. It’s what kept you safe. 

“It’s a self-soothing behavior,” he softened, pushing the hair back from your face. “And you’re right, you’re probably a great liar. I just spent too much time watching you.”

Releasing a frustrated breath, you looked at his stupid face, and couldn’t help but smile. 

“Is this when you tell me how cute you thought I was?”

Law sucked his teeth, his bright eyes ready for a challenge, but instead, he kissed you. Unhurried lips and tongues, treasuring the taste of each other. 

“I thought you were gross,” he whispered against you, earning a hard punch to the arm. He laughed before he continued, holding your wrists again. “But then I thought you were cute, and I thought that was gross too.”

You grinned at the memory of what a grouchy kid he was. For over two years, you’d spent everyday together, bickering, sparring, and causing chaos. 

“At first, I studied you to gain an advantage during training,” he confessed with a sigh, looking away while his fingers tugged at the sheet. “I don’t know when it changed, but eventually I was watching you because I wanted to. Because you were cute.”

He teased the last word, caving in to your demands, and you rewarded him with another kiss, wrapping your arms around him. Soon hands and lips were traveling, until he laid you back against the pillows. 

“Can I make you come now, or do you have other demands?”

You rolled to the side to hide your face while your skin burned, and his pleased hum and teasing kisses along your side didn’t help. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he soothed, your breath going too slow, and too shallow. “But I would love to make you feel good.”

His voice, his words, his gentle fingers that had pulled away to give you space, all of it made you freeze. 

“What can I do to help you feel good, Y/N?”

There were so many strange thoughts in your head, most moving too fast for you to follow.

Except for one thought that felt more like an emotion, a need. You were barely conscious of it, yet it drove you forward, pulling him onto you.

Make him feel good. 

Lost again in the way he touched you. Lost in the way he breathed your name while his marked fingers smoothed along your skin. Lost in the need to please him. 

“Fu-huck,” he gasped out, moaning as your fingers wrapped around his shaft, already hard again. 

Stroking him with purpose, you lined yourself up as you rubbed his tip through the new wetness his touch had drawn. His eyes rolled back before he buried his face in your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss against your skin.

A long whine left your lips, frustration making you writhe when he pulled away. He laid on his side at the edge of the bed, panting while his eyes tried to focus on your face. 

You rolled, crawling toward him with your lip caught between your teeth, more needy sounds leaving your throat. 

“Gods, you’re too fucking good,” he rasped, catching your hands before they could reach his cock again, “but, you didn’t answer my question, Y/N. How can I make you feel good?”

Your body slumped, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before his fingers brushed across them. 

“Let me take care of you,” he pleaded, the words hot against your ear. 

All you could do was nod, body limp as he lifted you back to the pillows, propping you up as if you were one of the precious comics on his shelves. That thought made you laugh, making him narrow his eyes at you until you giggled even more. 

“Something funny,” he teased with that lovely smirk. 

Words weren’t leaving your lips, so he sucked his teeth while he watched you squirm. Your breath stilled at the touch of his fingers along your inner thighs. 

“It seemed like you enjoyed me eating you out earlier, until I started fingering you. Did I read that right?”

Your eyes went wide, pausing for a moment before your words spilled out.

“N-no, it all felt amazing! I just got overwhelmed, but you felt so good…”

He watched you closely then, and you wondered if you’d shown a tell. 

But I didn't lie… 

“Okay… Please tell me if you’re feeling overwhelmed, or if you don’t like something.”

“I will,” you promised, your voice a bit high while you tilted your head down to the side, looking up at him with a teasing smile playing on your lips. 

“How about we use a safe word,” he suggested, smoothing a hand along your arm while he ignored your attempt to distract from the topic. “Do you already have one you’d like to use?”

Your eyes were a little wide as you shook your head, but a gentle kiss on your temple slowed your breathing. 

“It should be a word that doesn’t mean much, and that we wouldn’t normally say. Anytime you’re feeling overwhelmed or want to stop, you can say it, okay,” he paused, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “How about… radish?”

“Why radish,” you snorted, your body loosening up.

“Why not,” he grinned at you. His smile was a sight you’d never get enough of. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Your lips quirked, but you agreed to the word.

“Perfect. Now, will you please tell me how to make you feel good?”

He stared at your parted lips while you froze. No words came to mind. Just tension, and a mild sense of danger. 

“It’s alright if you don’t know,” he reassured, his eyes going soft as they raked over you. “Just talk to me. Is it alright if I touch you?”

You caught yourself rubbing your thumb over your fingernails when you agreed, stopping the movement before he noticed.

What’s wrong with me?

Law’s hands and lips traveled the length of your body, pulling soft gasps and sighs from your throat. You moved into his touch, reacting, showing him how good it felt. 

“I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he whispered, looking down at your face while he traced his fingers along your leg. Your cheeks were already burning before a breathy moan surprised you both. 

He cocked his head at you, repeating the movement. For some reason, the barest touch of his fingertips to the middle of your shin made you moan again, the ticklish sensation feeling better than you thought it should. 

“Mm, found something,” he teased, leaning closer to kiss your embarrassed face. “Do you know any other places I can touch to make you moan like that?”

“Law,” you writhed, voice breathy as his fingers danced up your body. 

“Come on, pretty. Tell me one thing that feels good. I know you can think of something.”

There was no pressure in his words, but there was heat, and the hint of a challenge. You still couldn’t think of any words, but you managed to move your head to the side, trailing your fingers along the crook of your neck. 

He hummed as his fingers replaced yours, as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Your skin’s so soft,” he purred, the hunger in his words making your toes curl. “Does it feel good when I kiss here too?”

Whining, your body went loose when he laid beside you, one of his legs resting between yours before he kissed your neck again. 

It felt so good, you could have stayed in this moment forever. The feel of his lips, tongue, facial hair, even his breath overwhelmed you. That sensitive skin sent electric shocks down to your lower back until you shook for him, his warm laughter only adding to it. 

“Thank you for showing me what you like,” he breathed against your ear. “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Law’s praise took every thought away, everything was gone while your body reacted. Your hands fisted the sheets, your thighs tried to rub together, seeking friction, but his leg was in the way. 

“Mm, Y/N, is it alright if I finger you? You can say the word if you want me to stop, okay?”

Hesitation came back, along with anger. Anger at yourself for whatever was stopping you. For whatever was keeping you from enjoying this time with him. 

Anger at yourself for not pleasing him by giving him what he wanted.

“It’s okay, hey,” Law soothed, his thumb stroking your cheek, “we can stop here, or we can do something else. Whatever you–”

“I want to,” you choked out. Clearing your throat wasn’t enough fix the broken sound in your voice. “I don’t know why, but… me feeling good seems…”

His soft eyes warmed your skin, even though you couldn’t meet them. He waited for you.

“I keep getting nervous when it’s just me,” you murmured, keeping your eyes wide to fight the heat there. 

“Just you feeling pleasure,” he prompted, studying your face while you gulped, nodding to confirm. “You said you want to. Do you wanna try, and we can stop if you need to?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, looking up as you brushed away an unwelcome tear with the back of your hand. 

Law pressed gentle kisses across your face, wiping away another wayward tear. 

“You deserve to feel good, Y/N.” His fingers followed his pretty words, and you fought to just be here with him. So slow, so light, that tattooed hand trailed lower, until he traced around your entrance, leaning close to your ear again. “I wanna make you come so bad. Please, can I feel you come on my fingers?”

Your “yes,” came out in a whine, and you both moaned at the slide of his fingers, your drenched pussy aching for his touch. 

“Gods, you're so wet,” he panted, playing with your clit while he watched your face. “Can I–”

You interrupted his request, nodding permission before he pushed one finger, then two inside of you. His eyes never stopped scanning, and he sat up to free his other hand, caressing down your body. 

It felt so good, but there was something. You’d been able to keep memories out, but you couldn’t relax. 

“What do you need,” he checked in, his skilled fingers bringing you close, but not close enough. 

“I feel like I–” you moaned, his thumb moving over your clit while his fingers curled up to that spongy spot inside you. “I feel like I need to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you are making me feel good,” he rasped, his body seeming to relax at your confession. “I love the way you’re gripping my fingers like this. I love the little sounds you make. Watching you come would make my fucking year, Y/N.”

A laugh fell from your lips, then a moan as he pressed a little deeper.

“You don’t need it, but you have my permission to come,” he teased, his voice just a bit too real, and somehow those words released something. A tiny smirk graced his lips as you started to fall apart. 

“Gonna be a good girl, and come for me?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, the steady rhythm he’d found was building so much pressure in your core it almost hurt. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” he praised, his free hand grabbing your chin to force your heavy lidded eyes to his. “You’re close, yeah? I want you to tell me exactly what you need so you can come on my fingers like a good girl. I know you can.”

“Law…”

“Can you do that for me?”

So close. So fucking close. But here was a new plateau, and all of his wonderful work was about to go to waste. Until you thought of something. 

Something that came with a pile of confusing memories and shame. Something you would have ignored, and stuffed away if you hadn’t felt so safe. 

If Law hadn’t made you feel so safe.

“Choke me, please.”

The request was almost silent, but you saw his lips part slightly. A hesitation. A mountain of self loathing threatened to roll over you.

Long, tattooed fingers encircled your throat, a necklace marked with “DEATH.” 

“Such a good girl, telling me what you want. Let me feel you– Mm, there’s my girl.”

He wrapped the perfect amount of pressure around your neck, keeping the pace with his other hand until your body started bucking, your eyes rolling white. 

It was everything you fucking needed. 

And it kept going. 

Law never stopped giving and giving, praising you while you shattered. You almost went to mist from the overwhelm, only managing to stay solid because you needed to keep coming for him. For you.

You mourned the loss of those wicked fingers choking and fucking you, but he worshipped your body again while aftershocks tore through you. 

“You’re fucking amazing,” he chuckled, laughing harder at the gibberish you replied with. He kissed and caressed you while your body came back to the room. “Can I get you anything? Water, or are you hung–”

He’d moved away slightly, but you reached out with your wobbly arms, pulling him close. He hummed at your touch, then gasped again when your hands found his cock, the heat of him making you writhe.

“Y/N, we don’t have to–”

“Please, fuck me,” you begged, sluggishly rolling onto your stomach. Looking over your shoulder at him, you got to witness the loveliest, most desperate look you’d ever seen on his face when you lifted your ass toward him. “I need your cock.”

There was no hesitation now. 

Just the whispered, “say the word if you need to,” before he was behind you, thrusting into your twitching cunt while you screamed for him. 

Tattooed hands on your hips helped him slam into you, hitting that perfect spot so fast, so hard, that you came in what felt like seconds.

“Oh fuck. Pussy feels so good, baby,” he moaned, slurring a bit before pressing your upper body into the bed. The new angle made you scream louder, clawing at the sheets. 

“You like that, Y/N,” he checked in, voice strained as he fought his need. 

“Pull my hair,” you demanded softly.

One of those hands pushed you down, his weight between your shoulder blades while he pounded into you. Frenzied thrusts rocked your body while his free hand fisted into the hair at the back of your head, finally giving you that sting you needed. 

“Do it again,” he forced through his teeth, his bruising grip making you drool onto the sheets. “Come for me, pretty. Come on my cock right fucking now.”

“Law, fuck, I’m…”

Words were gone, his quarters ringing with your breathy screams, and his heavy grunts. The slapping of wet, needy flesh nearly drowned you both out until he buried himself as deep as he could go, your toes curling while he filled you with heat. Your body milked the come out of him until you both collapsed, sweaty limbs still reaching for each other. 

“Are you okay,” he coaxed, brushing another hot tear away from your cheek. 

“I’m happy.”

Those words had left your lips many times over the past few years, but this time you didn’t have to lie. This time you let tears fall without shame, laughing as he left tickling kisses anywhere he could reach, holding you close. More laughter floated through the air while he carried you to the bathroom. You trailed your fingertips along his lines of ink, as though you were walking the paths around your new home, memorizing each lovely view. 

“You know this doesn't mean I’m gonna go easy on you, right,” Law threatened as he threw a blanket over your bare skin, wrapping himself around you. 

“You’re such an ass,” you hummed, nuzzling into his warmth. 

“You could be nicer to your captain, you know,” he quipped, his deep voice making you shiver. 

“If you’re my captain, does that make me a Heart Pirate?”

His arm tensed around you, and your mind cringed against your presumption.

Nothing’s changed. I’m still a tool, a threat, even if I am something more. Don’t fucking push–

“Only if you want to be.”

Law’s hushed offer stilled your thoughts. You couldn’t answer without seeing his face, so you twisted in his arms until you could cup his cheek, knowing that the shy smile on his face reflected your own. His eyes poured over you, until his brows creased slightly as he waited for your response. Waited to hear if you wanted to spend your life as a pirate, living on this submarine, putting yourself in danger. Waited to hear if you wanted to stay with him. 

It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” you promised with a kiss, pulling back to smirk at him, “but I’m still gonna call you an ass.”

Soon you were begging, breathless as you lost the fight, your cheeks hurting from laughing after his long fingers had stopped tickling you. Being wrapped up in each other still felt unreal. He fell asleep so fast, his light snores a comforting sound, even when you couldn’t stop the tears from staining your skin. 

You’d never felt safer. 

But memories were still there.

Doffy. 

He’ll find me. He’ll take me back. After he makes me watch him kill Law. 

He’ll probably use my hands. Just like…

You went completely limp, head lolling as your body fought the sticky memory of blood on your hands.

Part of your brain still had memories. Part of your brain berated you for not enjoying this perfect moment with Law. But most of your brain went to a strange buzzing place, unfocused eyes seeing nothing but a blur. 

When this empty space wasn’t frightening, it was relaxing, in a sick way. 

Leaving. 

Being nothing. 

Safe.

“Y/N? You okay,” he checked in, groggy voice filled with concern. 

Your limp body rolled as he shifted. A tiny part of you floated above the bed, watching, yelling at yourself to move, hating that he had to deal with this.

The rest of you was trapped in a fish tank, sinking to the bottom.

Law stayed with you. Even though you couldn’t feel, even though you couldn’t hear, you knew he was there. He was there when you returned, soothing your “sorry’s” away. Asking what you needed, bringing you water, then starting all over again as if it hadn’t happened.

Holding you close as he drifted off to sleep, and this time, you followed him. 

This time, Law pulled you from the nightmares. He reminded you where you were while he kept you from clawing at your chest. He waited until he saw your eyes stay present, then he teased you until you were his again. 

“Hurry up, or I’ll make you use the barracks bathroom,” he warned, pushing you through the door with a towel and a change of clothes. He beamed at your middle finger, and you could hear him counting down random numbers while you got ready. 

“Why don’t you just join me,” you challenged, about to turn on the water.

“You know why.”

You showered fast, even though your body twisted with need at the thought of him shoving you against the tile wall, but your mood soured when you looked in the mirror. It was disorienting to see that face on this submarine. To see that face anywhere but at Doffy’s side.

You managed to pull yourself out before you fell too deep, but this time you didn’t push it away. No hiding, no running in fear. 

Doffy lived there, behind your misty eyes. The weight of his presence hung around your shoulders like that heavy, pink coat. Your body screamed with the need to be safe, the need to be whatever he wanted you to be. His laugh echoed in your skull as he called for his “pretty doll.”

But you weren’t a doll anymore. 

I’m a Heart Pirate now, Doffy. And I’m gonna help Law kill you.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me all the ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Heeeyyyy we made it. We completed the fic request. It's over... Lol, not! I have so much more planned for this story, but there will be a pause here while I circle back to another fic. But fret not, I'm obsessed with this story, and have already outlined some upcoming chapters!

Thank you so much for joining me! Again, I hope none of you relate to the reader's trauma, and her struggle to enjoy her own pleasure, but if you do, you're not alone 🖤 I hope you are given all the patience and love you need so that you can enjoy all the pleasure you desire.

You deserve to feel good!!

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass | @lovemesomefanfic846

Part 6

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

#trafalgar law x reader #doflamingo x reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law #doflamingo #fic requests #trafalgar d law x reader #eventual smut #one piece smut #reader insert #fem!reader #smut #x reader #turtletaub fics #use of y/n #trafalgar law fanfiction #one piece angst #cw dark content #cw grooming #cw dubcon #cw toxic relationship #cw emotional abuse #angst #cw blood #cw violence #cw vomit #cw yandere #dead dove do not eat #cw murder

[brummiereader]

Hi everyone I'm back with another series! This is going to be a Dark!Tommy series, that some readers may find triggering, so I really wanted to give you all a warning beforehand. Overtime the following potential triggers will become more apparent...manipulative behaviour, psychological mind games, toxic relationship, controlling behaviour, violence, and psychological abuse.

Killing Me Softly (PART ONE/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: Reader is arranged to marry the notorious gangster of Small Heath Tommy Shelby. Going into the marriage with an open heart she soon realises he is not the man she once knew. How long will she be able to endure his cruel games?

Warnings: Angst, fluff, violence, language, psychological mind games, manipulative behaviour, Dark!Tommy (This is a dark series, please read the warnings before continuing)

Writers note: Inspired by this ominous version of the song "Killing me Softly" by Aretha Franklin. Just to note, we follow off from the intro later on in the series.

"Y/N Ohh Y/N...come on love, I'm not gonna hurt you" He said taunting you, as you heard him open each door along the dimly lit hallway on the second floor of your home Arrow House. His heavy foot steps walked slowly along the wooden floorboards as he checked each room looking, searching...for you.

Hiding under the bottom shelf of a small closet room, you made yourself as small as you could possibly get. Shaking, tears streaming down your face you brought your knees up to your chest clutching yourself, hoping and praying he wouldn't find you.

"Come out come out wherever you are, I'll count to ten you can't be far.

Under the bed, behind a door, was that a creak I heard on the floor?

I'll shout and call out your name, but you'll keep quiet, it's part of the game.

Come out come out wherever you are, I'll count to ten you can't be far...Ohh Y/N..."

Snapping your head up, you listened to the nursery rhyme as it echoed loudly through the corridor. Once an innocent song you used to sing as a child whilst playing hide-and-seek, now a menacing taunt filled with unspoken threats. All of a sudden his cruel singing came to a stop. Hearing the creaking floorboards just outside the door, your eyes widened in terror.

" You know I'll win...i always did" you heard him say in a deep menacing voice as you covered your mouth trying to silence your heavy breathing. You watched intently as his dark shadow moved underneath the door, with your whole body trembling, you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to escape. Putting your hand to your chest you breathed a silent sigh of relief as you heard his intimidating footsteps move on.

"I don't like to be teased sweetheart!" he said loudly, annoyed, as he slammed a door shut in frustration. Jolting at the sudden noise your foot slid against the floor hitting the wall in front you. Shit. Silence filled the house, the noise of his footsteps absent from your ears. Taking your hand away from your mouth, you reached out to bring your knee back into your chest, only to gasp in fear as you heard one single creak of the floorboards just outside the closet door.

"Peekaboo..." he said tilting his head as he opened the door, a sinister smile spread across his face, a bloodied knife in his hand.

"Come on now, darling" he said as he dragged you kicking and screaming out the small dark room by your night dress.

" Tommy please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, wait...wait!"

One Month Before...

An arranged marriage. If anyone would have told you this is what you had agreed to this time last year, you would have laughed in their face at their preposterous suggestion. But yet here you was, two weeks away from marrying your childhood friends brother, Tommy Shelby. You had spent most of your early life at the Shelby's house, you being close friends with Ada, you would see Tommy almost every day. Maybe that's why you had agreed to the proposition so willingly, you knew Tommy, you grew up with him, a small affection grew over the years for him, and you trusted him, or at least...you thought you did. It was a cascade of events over many years that had led up to the day when Tommy's Aunt, Polly Gray, proposed the arrangement. Your father dying in combat was the start of everything that eventually went wrong, then when your mother moved you both to London to escape the constant reminders of your late father, her health started to deteriorate. The grief of losing him had taken a tremendous toll on your mother's body, unable to work anymore, and with only a war widows pension, you had to take on extra hours working in a press factory as your mother stayed home, you were barely getting by. Now you found yourselves back in Small Heath, back home, back in search for easier times. Hearing of your mother's ill health and your struggle to find employment, Polly Gray a friend of the family, re-entered you lives, offering you help when no one else would.

The proposition Polly made at first, was not one of marriage, but one of employment, you was to work in the Shelby Company Limited offices as a secretary, but when Tommy caught wind of his Aunt's plans and the knowledge of your return to Small Heath, with no need of another secretary he proposed a different arrangement, one of marriage. A wife in return for the financial support of your mother and the help she so desperately needed, that was the offer Polly came to you with that late spring day, the day your whole life changed.

Arranged marriages were not unheard of in the 1920s, and Tommy being a man who had so little time to find a wife, found himself needing one. He didn't particularly want one, but he needed one if he was ever going to rub shoulders with the people he wanted to do business with. With a wife by his side, he would be able to portray himself as a stable family man, an image he needed to paint to finally be taken seriously by the circle of people he wanted to be acquainted with, or at least, that's what he told everyone. You had very little family left, most of them having died in the war or from illness, your mother was the only immediate family you had. With no other options, your mother's health worsening, and no money to pay for the doctors she so badly needed, you had willingly agreed to the arrangement without much hesitation. An almost transactional agreement, but one you entered into with an open mind and heart, naively thinking that this arrangement would eventually turn into a loving marriage... how wrong you would be.

"I'm ready" you said as you straightened out your white summer dress.

" You look beautiful darling" your mother replied as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

" I'm sorry I can't come with you" your mother said as she handed you your small black purse.

"It's ok, you're not feeling well, get some rest ok?" You said as you kissed her cheek. Saying goodbye you opened the front door and walked out onto the busy streets of Small Heath. It was summer and surprisingly a beautiful day in the small Birmingham town. The sun breaking through the thick smoke of the factory chimneys, beamed down on your skin as you walked the ten minute journey to Watery Lane. Your thoughts turning in your head, you started to doubt your decision. What if he doesn't like me ? What if this doesn't work out? Does he even remember me? It was so long ago, you couldn't even remember what he looked like. Walking across to the next street you was now on Watery Lane. Standing in front of the door you straightened out your posture as you painted on a smile, before you could even knock, the door flew open.

"Are you Tommy's wife?" A small boy with a peaked cap and muddy knees said, as he opened the door.

"Not yet she's not" Polly said moving the boy out the way as she ushered you in, planting a kiss to your cheek.

" Polly" you said hugging her, smiling as she welcomed you into the house.

" Come sit down dear" she said as she pulled out a chair for you at the round table in the middle of the room.

" Hello you" you heard a voice say from behind you.

"Ada!" You said turning around, as she bent down to give you a hug.

" Look at you!" she said smiling to you, as she brushed your hair away from your shoulder " You're a beauty Y/N, Polly isn't she just beautiful?" She said turning to her Aunt.

" That she is, Tommy's one lucky man" she replied smiling to you with a wink. Sitting down in front of you, she poured you each a glass of whiskey.

" Bit of Dutch courage" she said handing you the glass, which your gratefully took, downing it in one go.

" Steady on!" Ada giggled covering her mouth, "You're not marrying the Devil himself" she laughed once again.

" Nervous?" Polly asked, as she looked at your anxious face, reaching out for your hand.

" A little...Polly what if this doesn't wor..." you said only to be interrupted by the small boy from before.

"Tommy's here!" He shouted as he ran through the kitchen knocking over one of the wooden chairs.

" Finn out!" Polly demanded, pointing to the stairs as he stomped up them, his arms folded, a grumpy thrown forming on his face.

" Ello ello" Arthur announced as he entered the room, John not far behind him.

"There she is" he said reaching out to hug you. " You've grown" he said motioning up and down your body with his hand, his eyes stopping at your chest as he cleared his throat.

" Move over you old perv" John said with a big smile, his arms stretched out to hug you.

"John" you said, hugging him tightly. Being closer in age, you and John had always gotten along, he was like a brother to you, often the first to come to you if you ever needed help. Turning his head around, John moved out the way as Tommy walked into the room. Taking his peaked cap off, his eyes immediately scanned the room, looking for you.

"Y/N" he said walking towards you, giving you a small kiss to the cheek, his hand resting on your hip. Now a young woman, Tommy was taken aback by your beauty.

"Tommy" you said nervously as your breath hitched in your throat. The boy you remembered was gone, instead a grown man stood before you, a face aged by war, a presence that demanded respect, he walked into the room with authority and power, and you couldn't help but look away from his intimidating statue. Smiling to you, trying to ease the tension, Tommy gently placed his hand on your back, gesturing for you to sit down as he sat down in the empty chair beside you. With everyone now around the table you talked about your time in London, everything but the impending wedding, that was until Arthur brought it up.

" You'll be a Shelby in a few weeks" he said winking to you, as he took a sip of whiskey.

" Think you can handle our Tom, Y/N?" John interjected, chuckling.

" Yeh, I think I can handle him " you said laughing, trying to make light of the situation as you turned to see Tommy eyeing you from head to toe, his mouth slightly open as his eyes then landed on yours.

"Good luck to you Y/N, Tommy's not the easiest to get along with, are you Tom?" John chuckled as he put his elbows on the table, leaning in closer to you.

"Shut up John" Tommy said, clearly bothered by his teasing. Shifting in your seat, you looked down nervously at your hands.

"Tom's just a bit hot headed sometimes Y/N" Arthur said as he poured himself another whiskey ." Anyway, things will go just fine for you two, Tom here, used to have a little crush on..."

"Right, you all done, hm?" Tommy said interrupting, looking at each of his brothers, his brows raised in annoyance, as both of them put their hands up in defence, unable to hold back their laughs.

" Come on, let's leave them to it" Polly said as she ushered everyone out the small kitchen. With just you and Tommy now alone, a small silence filled the room as he lit a cigarette.

" What are siblings for if they don't give you a hard time" you said smiling to him, breaking the silence.

"You're not gonna give me a hard time are you?" He said turning to you, mischief playing in his eyes.

" No. No..." you said slightly flustered.

"But you think you can handle me, eh?

" I didn't mean it like that" you said turning to him, his eyes catching yours as you started to regret your choice of words.

" I know" he nodded chuckling " I'm only teasing Y/N" he said clearing his throat.

"I need to know for sure though, I need to hear you say it, do you want this?" He said shifting closer to you, his eyes never moving from yours.

" I want this Tommy" you said as confidently as you could. "Do you?"

" I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't" he said staring at you, his eyes piercing into you. "Look, i know it's not the typical start to a marriage, but we know eachother, we can trust eachother, right?" he said as he reached for your hand, his thumb caressing you in reassurance.

" We can trust eachother" you nodded, comforted by his gentle touch " You know, coming here today, i didn't think you would remember me" you said as you traced your finger around the rim of your empty glass.

" Oh I remember you. You were here all the time, running around playing hide-and-seek. And if I remember correctly, you were never very good at it" he said a smile on his lips as his eyes darted between yours and your fingers grazing along the glass.

"Well, you never did count to ten" you joked as a laugh escaped Tommy's mouth.

"I wasn't very patient" he admitted, taking a drag of his cigarette his eyes glistening, as a cocky grin formed on his face

" God, we must have annoyed Polly so much sometimes"

" We were just kids" he said shrugging his shoulders, as he poured you both another glass of whiskey.

" Not anymore" you replied, as he handed you your drink, his fingers brushing over yours.

" No, not anymore" he echoed quietly, taking a sip of his whiskey, as he looked over your body in the corner of his eye, clenching his jaw.

" I got you something" he said clearing his throat. Reaching into his suit pocket, Tommy pulled out a small box with a red ribbon neatly fastened around it. Putting it on the table he slowly pushed it towards you.

" Tommy you didn't have to do that"

" It's a wedding gift, I want you to wear it on the day" He said stubbing his cigarette out, as he watched your slender fingers gently untie the ribbon.

" Oh my god...Tommy" you said smiling as you took out a small diamond encrusted bracelet. "It's beautiful" you said as you turned the bracelet around, only to furrow your brows as you looked at his and your initials engraved with a date on the back.

"Tommy I think the Jeweler made a mistake, the date's wrong?

"It's not wrong Y/N, I'm bringing the wedding forward, to next Saturday" Tommy said as he opened his cigarette holder, pulling out another.

" What...forward?" You questioned confused by the unexpected change of plans.

" You don't have a problem with that, do you?" He questioned as he exhaled a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling, rubbing the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger.

" No, it's just...everything's been planned for two weeks time, why did you change the dates?"

" I don't want to wait Y/N" he said, tapping the ash from the cigarette into the glass tray as he turned to face you, his brows raised in surprise at your questions. " You sure you want to marry me, eh? He said cocking an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.

"I do Tommy, it's just.." you said, still confused by the the sudden urgency. "..next week it is then" you replied, giving in, not knowing what else to say. Smiling to you, Tommy sat forward taking your hand as he clasped the bracelet around your small wrist.

"You like it then?" He asked his eyes looking up at you through his thick lashes.

"I love it" you said reaching your arms out, wrapping them around him. Hugging you back, Tommy's hand moved up to the back of your neck, his cheek pressing into your hair as he breathed in your perfume.

" You'll never want for anything Y/N, I'll make sure of that" he said as he let go. " And your mother, she will be looked after" he confirmed, as you looked up, meeting his eyes.

" Thank you, Tommy" you said as you placed your hand into his, his other hand reaching up, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb.

" We'll make it work, yeh?" he nodded to you.

" We will" you said shyly as you looked down at the bracelet on your wrist.

" Good. My brothers are right though, I can be a difficult man at times, stubborn set in my ways. But I'll look after you" he said as you nodded to him, his thumb still on your cheek as his fore finger grazed down cupping your chin "And in return I'll have a good, obedient wife" he added, eyes narrowing, his forehead raised, his grip subtly tightening as he waited for your reaction. Your eyes darted away nervously only to quickly come back to his intense glare.

"I'll be a good wife Tommy" you said, a small unsure laugh leaving your lips at his odd choice of words.

" Good" he said letting go of your cheek, his face finally relaxing, as he leaned back into his chair.

" You know Y/N, I think this might just work out for us"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #killing me softly #dark tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby

[jasmines-library]

Hi! I think you said that you would write for Cassandra? If you don’t it’s fine and feel free to ignore this <3

I used he/him pronouns but if you don’t do male readers you can make it gn! :)

Here we go.. So the reader is 12 and younger than the rest of the family. He is a child weapon like cass and Damian. Actually he is Cassandra’s little brother, he was made solely on defeating Cassandra after she escaped. He also has electricity powers and is as much as good of a fighter like Cassandra. So he is sent on a mission to destroy or eliminate Cassandra or another family member but the batfamily stops him. Somehow they knock him out after a hard fight and put him in a. Cell or somethin. They find out he is Cassandra’s bio little brother and are determined to help him. So they talk to him when he wakes up or something and cassandra is like really clingy and protective of him so he reluctantly stays.

If you can, can you show some snippets or short story of his interactions with others and how he is adjusting to his new life in the manor, (he also gets to be a vigilante along side them.)

BROTHER MINE

Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Kinda child abuse? (It's a child assassin), violence. Nothing explicit or graphic

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Cassandra Cain was the sole reason for your existence. Almost as soon as she left you were dragged away from your mother kicking and screaming to begin your training. Sandra feared it would happen at some point. Cain had taken her daughter, it was only in due time until he would take her son. 

Although you were older than Cass when she began her training, they still made you ruthless. They pushed you until your legs were trembling and the only thing that crossed your mind was the art of assassination. You didn’t speak anymore. It was forbidden. This meant that the parts of your brain normally used for speech were trained so you could read your opponents movements to predict their next move in a fight. You remember your mother telling you once that they did that to Cassandra too. It was one of the only things you did remember from what little of your childhood you had before it was ripped away from you. Your training was not much different from your older sisters, though your father had made one thing clear. In order to beat her you had to be better than her. So he pushed you further than he had ever pushed anyone before until something in your brain began to change and you discovered a newfound ability to manipulate electricity. They had made you into the perfect tool; smart and powerful but submissive to the right people. You were a weapon with one mission. Kill Cassandra Cain. 

You roamed the streets of Gotham, mask pulled over your face. Your time had finally come. After years of waiting your father finally found an opening on Cassandra and had sent you into the city to meet her. You had been warned that she was with Gotham’s infamous vigilantes and you had deemed it a welcoming challenge. As you walked, boots scuffling along the floor, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something so utterly wrong about this. You had pursued your sister before without a second thought, but now as you grew older and more wise about your actions a part of you buried deep within your teachings couldn’t help but feel as though you were doing the wrong thing. But you dismissed the thought very quickly, honing in on your surroundings as your training kicked in. 

You could see them now. The five of them perched on a rooftop, just above a bright billboard advertising an expensive brand of clothing. The two eldest seemed to be keeping a watchful eye over the city, even from down on the street you could see the way their heads turned and their bodies tensed up when they thought they saw something. The other two boys seemed to be having a scuffle behind them as they jested between each other. And then there was Cassandra, donning her black and yellow suit. She surveyed silently, leaning against the brick wall of the entrance to the building’s exit staircase. She was on edge, and rightly so. 

You moved silently through the building and up the stairs as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. You hugged the walls, moving swiftly to avoid being detected by any of the blinking red sensors and alarms. It was child's play really; something you could do in your sleep. 

The door to the rooftop was locked when you tried to ease it open gently, so you brought up a spark of electricity to your fingers to fry the circuit so that you could then open the door and slink onto the rooftop without anyone noticing. 

The youngest two vigilantes had since stopped their bickering and were now also surveying the skyline, but your dear sister still hadn’t sifted from where she was before you entered the building.Perfect. 

Moving silently and agilely you ran towards Cassandra and grabbed her roughly from behind. She went down with a cry of alarm but was quickly moving again, flipping you off of her before you even had the chance to think about conjuring up electricity. Her shout had alerted the other four, who quickly came rushing to her aid, weapons readdied as they charged towards you. Nightwing swung his escrima sticks at you, they crackled but you caught them one handed and sent him staggering back so you could move for the next attack. Despite the fact that you were heavily outnumbered, you managed to hold your ground extremely well by maximising your small frame and use of training to slip around them and send them to the ground. The heroes were well trained too though, and the scuffle was tiring for all of you. 

With a flick of your hand, you sent Robin flying across the roof skidding to a stop when he hit the brick wall. Finally you had managed to get rid of the obstacles in your way and could focus entirely on your sister. You turned, manoeuvring your body to land a kick to her chest but she ducked and rolled out of the way before trying to grab your ankle and pull you down to the ground. The two of you fought intensely, neither of you making much progress besides landing the odd lucky punch here and there because you were both able to predict each other's next move. Though eventually, you managed to make a false move and grip her wrists which allowed you to flip her over your body. Once you had her pinned underneath you, you began to conjure up the strength to finish your mission, but something stopped you. She looked up at you with wide eyes, one word slipping from her chapped lips.

“Y/N?”

You froze. 

At some point during your fight with her, your mask had fallen from your face without you noticing, and now she could see exactly who you were. And now your name had fallen from her lips accompanied by that look of recognition, you were stuck still. And one moment of distraction was all it took for one of the other vigilantes to regain their senses and land a heavy blow to the back of your head. 

~

Cass was quiet. More quiet than usual as she sat on the other side of the cell, peering at you from the other side of the bars. There were a million things running through her head all at once and she was struggling to process them. You were alive. You were an assassin. You had tried to kill her. It was a lot to handle. Dick seemed to notice as he glanced up at her from the computer. 

“You okay, Cass?” He frowned, worried for a moment that she was injured more than she let on, but Alfred had checked the five of them over and assured that everyone had escaped with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. 

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. Dick made his way over to her, sliding down on the bench and eyeing you up. You were still unconscious, Tim had hit you hard with his staff. 

“He’s not gonna get you, Cass.”

“No.” She shook her head, fiddling with her hands in her lap and completely avoiding his gaze. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“He’s my brother.”

Dick had to stop his jaw from dropping completely. “What?”

“I-I thought he was dead. They told me he was dead and now he’s…this is my fault.”

“Slow down.” He told her as the others had started to approach. 

“What’s going on?” Damian asked.

“When I was still living with my father…sometimes my mother would stop by. She seemed cruel too, but she had this tenderness. She knew I was just a child. I suppose I was too young to remember everything, but I remember her telling me stories of a little boy. My brother. Y/N.” She gestured to you. “My father wasn’t supposed to know. Whenever she stopped by she would show me pictures of him and tell me how no matter what happened I must keep him a secret…but I guess my father knew because now he is just like me.”

“Oh, Cass…” Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“A few nights after I escaped, I stopped by my mothers house in hopes of at least seeing him. But he was gone. And instead I found my mother clutching a bloody sheet. I assumed he was dead. But this is so much worse.”

“We can fix this, Cass. We helped you, we can help him.” Dick told her. He understood that what you did wasn’t your fault and that you were just a scared little boy following orders.

She hummed, watching as you stirred before snapping upright on high alert from the moment you woke up. 

You were confused for a moment when you awoke on a small cot in the corner of a cell, but then it all came flooding back to you. You almost immediately noticed the power suppressing cuffs on your wrists and secure bars on the wall. Cursing, you noticed the group of people eyeing you from the other side of the room and instead of staring daggers silently at them like you were taught to do, you began to break down.

The hot, thick tears that cascaded down your face were alien to you but you made no move to stop them from falling. Cassandra furrowed her brow at your demeanour as she had fully anticipated an aggressive reaction.

“s-sorry…” You rasped out. Your voice was so hoarse from not using it for so long you were surprised that you even remembered how to talk, even if your sentences lacked half of the words they needed. “They m-made…”

Cassandra moved closer towards you, ignoring the protests that Jason made. She crouched down near you and studied you. 

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered. 

You recoiled slightly, surprised that she even knew you existed. You shook your head meekly, interacting tenderly with her and going against everything you had known, but despite that it felt so right.

“Oh…Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“N-Not fault.” You stuttered back. 

“But it is-” She protested. 

“No.”

When one of the other boys approached the cell, you moved back hesitantly. 

“It’s okay.” Cass told you. “You can trust them.”

“We can help you.” Tim said. “If you’ll let us?”

“ c-can’t stay. Father-”

“He won’t know you’re here.” Dick told you. “We’ve kept Cass safe, we can do the same to you too.”

“Please, brother…” Cassandra insisted “Let me make this up to you.”

After pondering a moment, you reluctantly nodded. “Okay.”

BONUS:

Inspired by this image:

Cassandra had not seen you all day and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was getting worried. When she returned from patrol, she had peered into the room that Bruce had given you, only to find it empty. She then checked in the cave to see if you were there, but all she found was a weary Tim and Jason who had been sparring. She asked around, but neither of them had seen you either. 

She was on the verge of panicking as she made her way back to your room to double check, when she heard chatter coming from Damian’s room. It spilled underneath the door with the light into the hallway. She knocked before pushing it open to a most peculiar sight. 

You were sprawled out beside Damian on his bed, with a book in hand. He guided your finger across the page as you read, helping you as you tried to decipher the words on the page.

“I-It…vuh? Vuh…Vuh-uss? It vuss? No.” You shook your head, screwing your face up as you scanned the page. Damian sat patiently beside you. “Was!” You grinned. “It was!” 

“Yes! Well done.” Damian smiled slightly. “keep going.”

“What are you doing?” Cass interrupted, making the two of you jump. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry…” You muttered. “Damian teach me to read.”

Cassandra raised a brow. “The demon spawn is doing something nice for once?”

“Tt. No.” 

“Sure looks like it.”

“No. No. it’s for everyone’s benefit. How is he supposed to become a vigilante if he can’t read? Hmm? He needed to learn, so I decided to teach him. No one else was going to do it.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you just wanted to do something nice for once?”

Damian’s cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that, Dames.”

#writing #batfam x reader #batfam x brother reader #batfam x little brother reader #cassandra cain #Cassandra cain x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson #dick Grayson x brother reader #Tim drake #Tim drake x Reader #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Jason Todd #Jason Todd x Reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #Robin #Robin x Reader #red Robin x reader #red Robin #fluff #found family

[myfictionaldreams]

Last Hope // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2

Summary: Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

Tags: 18+ readers only, angst, fluff, abusive brother, emotional manipulation/abuse, murder/violence, blood/injury, depression,  enemies to lovers, possessive, protective steve rogers, hurt/comfort idiots in love

A/N: ahh it’s finally here! I contemplated posting the two parts in one but its oner 19k words long so probably easier to read as two separate parts. Please enjoy!

Words: 11.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

To an outsider looking through the glass walls of your life, it would look to be filled with excitement, thrillful, and definitely desirable. But to you, those walls were a cage, entrapping you in danger and gut-wrenching sadness and on occasions, those feelings had nearly destroyed you but now, you welcomed them, finally being able to feel something.

From the moment you were born, you’d been surrounded by criminals. The kind of people that only cared for themselves and would kill even their best friend if it meant they could increase in the hierarchy chain. This lifestyle was the way of your family, almost like it was instinct, the only way to survive in a world full of darkness and terror.

In reality, this was simply the lie that your brother had been feeding you from childhood. As if it was completely normal for parents to mysteriously disappear one evening, leaving their entire business in the hands of their greedy son, your brother Enzo who boasted that this was the only way to survive.

Enzo was as corrupt as gangsters come, his ease with murdering coming as easy to him as breathing, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone as he gained control of the underground criminal workings in Staten Island. He prided himself on his reputation, as a dangerous man with a business to run. There were multiple companies that he had close ties to but the majority of his finances were in robberies but not the kind that had banks held at gunpoint. No, Enzo had a vast team of experts that had connections with jewellery, cars, paintings - anything that could be sold through the black market and it made him untouchable and untraceable.

Where did you come into all this? You didn’t, not in the grand scheme of the business. Enzo often liked to taunt you that you didn’t have the heart to be at his esteemed level of ruthless and you were more than happy to watch from the sidelines, even though the violence was something you’d become accustomed to, it didn’t mean that you were wanting to do it. 

Instead, you were used in other ways, Enzo mostly using you as a bargaining chip for his clients, you’d have to flirt and sweet talk your way into their lives, a couple of dates and kisses to convince them to work with your brother as if you were nothing more then a piece of pretty meat for the worthless people to use. Every single interaction made you feel sick and dirty but luckily he had not asked you to fuck anyone yet however, your brother always liked to threaten that he would sell your virginity if you ever stepped out of line.

This was the life that you survived, the belittling, the threats and feeling hardly like a person at all. To you, Enzo was hardly even your brother with the way he talked about and treated you, reminding you on a daily basis that you lived under his roof so you must live by his rules or be thrown to the streets with not even a shirt to cover your back.

So you stayed and played by his rules because this was the only life that you knew, there were no other friends or family, no money stored away in a hidden box to one day set yourself free. There was only waking up and going to sleep, and everything in between to fuel your nightmares.

The only instruction you’d been given this morning was to dress up, which meant wearing as little as possible to lure people in. This wasn’t something you particularly want to be doing any day of the week but especially as the autumnal winds were beginning to brisk.

Tonight was an important event that was both well known and yet incredibly secret, most guests having to travel for hours to arrive at the underground venue. It was known as the ‘Pick-Me-Up’ event, weapons were banned upon entry and it gave goers the opportunity to meet other criminals, mafia members etc and hold business meetings, all under the disguise of a party. The concept alone caused a thick lump to lodge in your throat upon every swallow as silent nerves teetered your emotions, being around that many powerful people, it was your idea of hell.

Not for your brother though, in fact, he had been extremely nonchalant about the situation, stating: “It should be me that they’re scared of”. This was one thing you could not fault Enzo on, was his egotistical self-confidence, the man thought and believed he was untouchable. At least for this once, you weren’t instructed to flirt or speak to any of the attendees, you were only going to look pretty and draw attention to the gang.

The bass of the music vibrated deep into your bones before you even stepped into the main room of the venue, the air thick due to the number of people, sweat already gathering across your skimpily dressed body. You’d tried to stay close to Enzo and his bodyguards but with the busy crowd, your brother was able to slip away to the meeting rooms without a care for your safety, leaving you to the hungry wolves.

Not risking stopping your stride, you kept walking and pushing your way past the men and women, too frightened to look up. An empty spot at the bar caught your eye and with rushed steps, you allowed yourself a moment to catch your breath and held your body close to the counter. The space you were in was small and everyone seemed to tower over you, especially the guy sitting to your right at the bar, but you didn’t pay him or anybody any attention as you leaned further over the bar, catching the barman's attention.

“Glass of tap water, please”. You contemplated having a glass of whatever was their cheapest alcohol but realised that Enzo had rushed off without giving you any money so free tap water it was. Maybe it was a good idea to have a clear mind when surrounded by so many people.

There was a commotion next to your left side, a couple of boisterous men talking so loudly that you could easily identify what they were saying over the music. As the barman handed over your glass filled with water, one of the arguing men bashed into your arm, causing you to squeeze into the large body to your right, some of your drink spilling from the abrupt movement.

“Hey asshole, watch the lady!” the tall man stood and shoved the guy over your shoulder, instantly giving you some space as you tried to fix your posture.

“Who the fuck do you think-”, the guy who had caused all of the commotion had turned to shout at whoever had pushed him but seeing who it was, the words died in his throat. “Sor…sorry”, he mumbled an apology before the group moved away, giving you even more freedom to move.

Your heart seemed to stop however, even the music seemed quieter as fear pulsed through your body, seeing who had been standing next to you and who had just pushed someone away from you, now understanding the scared reaction.

Steve Rogers didn’t need any introductions, everyone on the East Side knew of the Rogers Mafia leader.

The gang were renowned for being ferocious, heartless and vicious and ruled over the entire Brooklyn area. You’d never even been in the same room as him before, only noticing him from files that Enzo had shown you on who to look out for when attending these events, who not to piss off and who to sweet talk, Steve Rogers was definitely someone not to piss off.

He was breathtakingly handsome, something that only made him more dangerous, his blonde hair that curled around his ears, piercing ocean-blue eyes that darkened around the iris and his hulking form that screamed power and strength.

Steve Rogers was formidable and he was staring down at you, saying something that you couldn’t hear over the panicked buzzing in your ears—a couple of seconds passed as you held the glass of water tighter to your chest, finally relaxing enough to hear what he was asking.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes… thank you”. Without wasting any further time, you rushed off in a different direction, pushing harder against the throng of people, wanting to get away as fast as you could, not caring where you ended up. The entire time, you could feel him watching you, even risking a glance over your shoulder to see that he had fully turned his body in your direction and was watching you leave with a curious expression.

Your feet stumbled quicker in your haste to find somewhere else to be, but every room seemed to be busy and locked. Eventually, there were some stairs hidden behind a gate that no one seemed to be trespassing which meant: calm and peace. Climbing the stairs, the music quietening with each step upwards, the only sound is your heavy breathing, heels clicking against the floor and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

The stairs led up to the roof and you sighed happily at the fresh, crisp air that cooled your heated skin. Relief flooded your emotions as you walked further onto the empty rooftop, stopping when you reached the ledge that was tall enough that you could lean on it. Placing your glass onto the ridge, you admired the beautiful sight of the city and night sky.

Moments like these were the ones you craved every day, the dreams that you could imagine looking up towards the sparkling stars, dreaming that you were anywhere else with a different family and a better life. It was your crutch, these moments of escape, the small spark of hope that you wished one day would blossom into reality.

You were never sure how much time slipped away when you had these daydreams but as the fire escape door opened, you knew a significant amount had passed by the chill sweeping over your body now.

Your spine straightened as you turned to see who had found your hidden corner of the party and the dread that had encompassed you downstairs returned full force as Steve Rogers stepped outside, hands in his pockets, closing his eyes and savouring the cool air, much like you had.

He hadn’t noticed your presence at first and for a moment you hoped that he would move to the other side of the roof so that you could escape the way that you came but you were never that lucky as his blue eyes snapped to yours, shock evident on his face finding someone else up here. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was up here”.

“That’s ok... I can go”, your voice didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as his. Quickly picking up your glass, you began to leave but he held out a hand, a small smile on his handsome face.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to go. You were here first anyway but there’s plenty of space up for the two of us”.

Now you felt inclined to stay, not wanting to look rude, especially to the most powerful man in the state so you nodded your head once and returned to looking out over the city. From the corner of your eye, you could see Steve approaching closer, stopping a few feet away and resting his forearms against the ledge. You were hyperaware of everything, the way you couldn’t slow your breathing rate down and the slight tremble in your hands, it was hard to remain calm.

Steve glanced over, eyes flicking over your form as you pretended like you weren’t watching from the corner of your eye. “I’m Steve”, he introduced himself, voice deep and yet oddly calming, matching the serene setting.

“I know”, your automatic response caused your to wince at the rudeness and brash tone you hadn’t meant to use. You’d been in rooms with dangerous men your entire life and had to flirt with many of them to get what your brother wanted, you needed to try and regain some sort of control. “Sorry, I mean… I think everyone knows who you are. I’m Y/N.” For a second you contemplated mentioning who your brother was so that he knew who you’d arrived with but for some reason, couldn’t admit to it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N”, Steve responded, sounding surprisingly genuine before looking back over the city. “Beautiful view, I much prefer being up here than being locked in a tight room full of bozos”.

The seriousness in his voice had a laugh bubbling in your chest at realising you weren’t the only one to feel like this party was utter hell. Looking up towards the night sky, admiring the twinkles you agreed, “It is beautiful”.

Feeling eyes on your face, you looked towards Steve, seeing that he was watching you with an interested expression before it turned to one of confusion, eyebrows frowning slightly as his head tilted, asking, “Have we met before?”

Now it was your turn to be confused, “No I don’t think so. I think I would remember your face”. Your cheeks immediately burned at your unfiltered response, not meaning for it to sound like you were flirting but with the smirk that formed on his face, you knew that was exactly how it sounded to him. It wasn’t like what you said was wrong, he was handsome.

Steve thankfully brushed over the comment much to your embarrassment, “I definitely feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before”. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, his eyes continued to asses your face which only made you feel more self-conscious under his watchful gaze and then his eyes brightened to match the grin spreading across his face, “Cake Bakes, right? You order cinnamon buns?”

Your jaw slackened with shock as he spoke the name of your local bakery that you visited like clockwork every Thursday. Was he following you? Was all of this an elaborate plan to get you by yourself and take you, hostage?

Steve realised how bizarre his comment must have sounded and held up his hands, showing his empty palms in defence, “Oh shit, sorry that sounded weirder than it was supposed to. I promise I’m not stalking you, quite the opposite actually I uh… I’m in there most days to refresh our bakery stocks at the office and see you quite a lot”.

The blonde Mafia leader was of course downplaying the way in which he saw you at the bakery so as to not freak you out any further than you already were. You’d been the mysterious cinnamon bun girl that he had soon become addicted to seeing even just a glimpse of your pretty face, and if he was lucky then a smile as you accepted the baked goods. Even going as far as to volunteer himself to collect the food every week so that he might see you, even though he could easily find someone else to do the job for him. He was also highly aware of how much of a creep it would seem if he approached you one day so always admired from afar and with his job, it wasn’t like he could walk up to random women and ask them on dates when he was the most prolific mobster in Brooklyn. But seeing you here now, he couldn’t help but say something, almost like his body took over before he could think any of it through and seeing you all dressed up, it took him a good while to realise the scantily-dressed woman standing before him was his precious cinnamon bun girl.

You were frowning, trying to think about all the times you’d been into Cake Bakes, surely you would notice if a dangerous man was in there enough times to recognise you? Think, think think….

A clear image popped into your mind, a smile slipping over your features as you looked up at him, “black baseball hat, and sunglasses right?”, referring to the man that was always waiting for orders in the corner of the shop.

“Guilty”, Steve grinned sheepishly, stepping closer and angling his body more towards yours from where he still leaned his weight casually against the side.

Now you were unable to hold back that laugh that shook your body, hand resting on your stomach as it ached with how much you laughed, a sight that Steve became instantly addicted to. Finally, you were able to find some composure to say, “Good disguise, I’ve never clocked on to the fact that the infamous Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth”.

“Well, can’t have my reputation ruined now, could I?”

You genuinely smiled at him, wondering if you should reveal this next piece of information but unable to hold your tongue, “You do know that they call you the Muffin Man in there after you leave? They never understand how one person can carry so many baked goods”.

Steve’s cheeks actually bloomed with a tint of rose as he attempted to hide a smile, looking at his feet in a rare show of embarrassment, “should have guessed that the Muffin Man written on the receipt wasn’t the name of the baker”.

You laughed again before picking up your water and taking a sip, finally calming enough by hiding your face behind the glass. You couldn’t believe it as it dawned on you that… you were actually laughing with Steve fucking Rogers and his presence didn’t make you want to rip your skin off from feeling dirty, it was actually quite nice even though there were still warning bells alarming at the back of your consciousness.

The two of you remained in natural silence, still admiring the view which Steve admitted to himself was definitely you but he tried not to look for too long, knowing he could be addicted to trying to mesmerise your face to memory.

His curiosity got the better of him though as he asked subtly, “Isn’t there someone looking for you downstairs?”

You tried and failed to not choke on your drink, coughing a few times before shaking your head, “No, I’m here with my brother but he’s in some meetings”.

A frown crossed over Steve’s face, “meetings? So he’s got to be pretty important to be invited to those”.

You shrugged, looking down at your feet, “Enzo’s a busy guy I guess”.

“Enzo… as in Staten Island Enzo?” Steve asked, shocked when you were nodding to his question. “Hmm”, Steve pondered, glancing over his shoulder at the empty rooftop before looking back down at you, “where are your bodyguards? Enzo’s a pretty big deal from what I’ve heard, I’m sure there's a big target on his back with people looking for him, which by association means they are looking for you too”.

You didn’t dare look up, every word that Steve spoke was true and you had to try and think hard for a professional way of answering, instead of simply revealing that Enzo just didn’t care for your safety. “I managed to sneak away from security in the crowd, needed a moment of peace to myself”, the lie dripped from your tongue relatively easily and you made sure to look up at him even though looking into his eyes made your heart beat quicken.

Steve didn’t believe your excuse, noting the fact that you were always by yourself when visiting Cake Bakes and if he noticed you then he was sure others would. “They must be some shitty guards if you’re able to sneak away from them. I think you’d have some good competition if you tried to sneak away from my guards Bucky or Sam”.

Those two names you’d also heard of before, but it seemed that everyone involved within the Rogers Mafia were highly trained and feared individuals.

A shiver shook through your body as another blast of ice-cold wind stroked over your exposed body parts, causing goosebumps to lay over your skin. Steve noticed your chill, “do you want to head back inside before you catch your death out here?”

You didn’t miss the way in which he leaned his body closer to yours so that his arm gently pressed against you and impulsively you inclined into his warmth. Shaking your head, you answered honestly, “I’d much rather prefer to be a bit cold out here than in that hell hole downstairs”.

Steve agreed with a slow nod of the head and didn’t waste another second before shrugging off his navy jacket and placing it gently over your shoulders. Before you could decline, your body instantly felt relieved at the unnaturally warm material, and when his aftershave that stained the jacket wafted into your senses, your mouth watered.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you accepted the jacket, pulling it close around your frame, softly thanking him with a smile that reached your eyes. What was going on?, you thought as you assessed the situation. Of course, it could all be an act on Steve’s part but he hadn’t even known you were related to Enzo when he found you so wasn’t being nice for the sake of getting into the gang but then, why were the rumours about Steve so volatile and nasty because the man standing next to you now, willing to bare the cold and genuinely asking you questions was not the man you thought he would be.

Now it was your turn to be curious, facing your body fully towards him now, “Why are you up here? I would have thought that the most sought-after leader would be in meetings all night?”

“Ah, Buck’s taking one for the team and doing them for me. I’ve been in enough bullshit meetings for a lifetime and would it be cheesy to say I preferred the company up here and in no rush to return?”

You giggled, actually giggled as your cheeks warmed, “Yes I would say that was a little cheesy you smooth talker”.

The conversation came easy for the two of you, it felt like with each word he spoke, you were desperate to ask more, see the genuine reactions on his face as you held the joinings of his jacket together, it felt like a comforting cocoon, a safe space.

Those words seemed to taunt your conscious thoughts. A safe space. You’d never felt that way before, never had someone ask questions and be interested in your life. You’d never even had someone offer a jacket before to save you from the chill, it was all building that small spark of hope that you had been wishing for.

Once more the time seemed to pass without a care in the world, even as your feet began to ache from standing in the heels you’d picked, you still wanted to stay with Steve. But reality had to ruin the little sanctuary as Steve’s phone began to buzz with a text that he read quickly and his joy seeped away before your very eyes.

“All the meetings are over”.

“Shit”, you whispered in disdain, realising that you needed to go back downstairs to find your brother. Steve offered his hand out in front of you to allow you to lead the way and you both moved in the direction that you’d arrived and down the stairs.

The music thumped louder with each descent of the stairs as the party was still in full force and most likely to continue into the early hours of the morning. As you pushed your way through the crowds with Steve behind you, his hand on your lower back to help your way through but all you could think about was how big and hot it felt, even through the clothes.

Finally, you spotted Enzo and his gang members, lounging in a booth next to the speakers, drinking beer and definitely not looking for you.

Steve leaned down so you could hear but once again, with the close proximity, all you were able to concentrate on was seeing his face this close-up and trying to take in every detail that you could, “If you get into any trouble and those shitty guards can’t look after you, you can always come and find me, sweetheart”.

Usually, you loathed pet names but coming from his full lips, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, watching as he turned and left to find his own people, not before checking over his shoulder a few times to see you still watching, a smirk playing on his lips at this thought.

As Steve disappeared into the crowd, you finally felt your feet become unglued from the floor and moved to join your brother who was watching with a fire lit in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

It was only as you sat next to him did you realise that you were still wearing Steve’s jacket and you couldn’t deny that you probably still had time to run and find him to give it back, but instead wanted to be selfish and keep this comforting material for a little while longer, deciding you could find him at the end of the party.

“What?”, you finally asked as Enzo still hadn’t looked away.

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he nodded in the direction that Steve left, “he’s your next target”, he casually revealed.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, feeling like ice had been doused over you.

“I need a meeting with him and he’s notorious for not accepting them, but I’ve got some dealings in his area, something that he's inserted himself in so you are going to use your assets like you have been with him all night, and get me my meeting”.

There was no use arguing as Enzo turned away from you, effectively cutting off your conversation with a dismissal. You felt deflated and sick at the mission given to you. Steve had been kind and clearly hated these sorts of functions and now you were expected to betray the little trust that you’d both formed, flirt with him more just to ask for a meeting with Enzo? You hated this, hated that this was your life and even more, detested your brother more than anyone for ruining the hopeful spark that had formed.

Over the next few days, you’d been going out of your way to ignore Enzo and his dreadful request however eventually his patience ran out as he forced you to sit in a chair and swear that you’d continue with the plan. You agreed but only due to the little threatening of the gleaming knife pressed against your throat.

Enzo had increasingly become more aggressive with his threats the older you were and the more reluctant you were to go through with the orders. So with no other option, you began to make a plan, cursing yourself for not asking for Steve’s phone number on the rooftop but at least there was one place that knew he would be, on Thursday, like clockwork.

The smell of the baked goods wafted down the street and had your stomach growling in anticipation for your treat, momentarily distracting you from the plan you were reluctantly going through with. Opening the door and hearing the tinny bell ring upon entry, even if you hadn’t wanted to, your eyes searched the seating area and straight away spotted the hulking form, with his hat and glasses, sitting up straighter in his chair as he also looked you over.

Biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, you approached the cake display, casually chatting with the store owners who prepared your order without asking what you’d like. At one point, you risked a glance over your shoulder and saw that Steve was very much still watching you, his head tilted in wonder.

“Thank you”, you accepted your order and finally moved towards Steve who was sitting at a table for two, a different spot as he was usually in the corner leaning against the shop window. He must have been hoping that you would be joining too. “Hi”, you spoke softly, suddenly full of nerves but not because of the plan, but because you were actually excited to see him which was a foreign sensation for you.

“I still can’t believe that your brother lets you walk around without a bodyguard”, Steve spoke lowly so no one could overhear, a teasing smile seen beneath his shades.

“And I still can’t believe your disguise has worked for so long”, was your sassed response as you sat in the spare seat, resting your hands on the table.

Steve subtly adjusted his hat, pulling it lower over his face to hide his grin which only made yours widen, a bubbling feeling in your stomach due to making him smile, knowing that you wanted to make him do it again.

“How was the rest of the party?”, Steve changed the subject, clasping his hands together and leaning across the table until he was only inches away from touching where your hands lay and you had to refrain from reaching for him. Even from beneath his shades, you could see his eyes searching across your face.

“I tried to find you again to return your jacket to you, but you were gone”.

Steve sat back in his chair, contemplating your words but then his posture showed slight hints of arrogance as his legs spread and his arm rested on the back of the chair, “looked better on you anyway, sweetheart”.

There he goes with the pet names again that had your pulse fluttering with excitement. And was he actually flirting with you? 

“Are you flirting with me?”, you asked with a coy smile.

“Yes, is it working?” he answered confidently.

“Maybe”, you had to turn your face towards the Cakes Bakes staff to try and hide your smile and warmed face, you noticed that they were all watching the two of you with excitement, pretending to go back to work after being caught. You guessed it must have been weird that two of their most popular customers, who were always there but never spoke were now sitting at a table and chatting like close friends. 

Steve continued speaking referring to the jacket, snapping your attention back to him, “It’s fine, you can always give it back to me tonight”.

The excitement you’d been experiencing instantly ceased to exist due to having to give the jacket back. In all honesty, maybe it was slightly odd but you had found some weird comfort in his jacket, particularly the aftershave that lingered in the material. Frequently you found yourself breathing deeply from it, savouring the scents and letting the memories of the one night of happiness you’d seemed to experience.

“Oh right, yeah, of course,  I can get someone to drop it off or-”

Steve quickly cut you off, leaning close once more as his voice lowered, “You’ve misunderstood me, Baby, you can give it back to me when I take you out to dinner tonight”.

“Ah…right”, you say in shock, letting his words tumble through your mind before not bothering to hide your smile, “there you go with the smooth-talking again Steve”.

His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he swallowed harshly, huskily saying, “I like it when you say my name”.

Your eyes snapped to his lips, feeling yourself becoming more heated as you stared, your imagination getting the better of you with where those lips could touch and tease and…

“Your orders ready!”, one of the workers shouted to Steve, breaking the thickening tension between the two of you.

Both of you stood as he collected his stack of boxes from the counter, thanking the workers and you politely held the door open for you. “You never answered my question by the way”, Steve stated as you both stood in the middle of the bath, looking to leave in different directions.

“Well, it hardly seemed like a question and more a statement but regardless, yes I would love to go to dinner with you”.

Steve grinned now, showing off his perfectly white teeth, “Thank god. Do you know the new restaurant three blocks over? How about I book us a table for 7? I’d offer to pick you up but I’m assuming your brother wouldn’t like me knowing his home address with our line of jobs”.

This made sense and you couldn’t help but bounce on your toes a little bit with excitement, holding the bag with your cinnamon bun tightly in your grip, “That sounds great! See you at 7 Steve”.

You turned to walk away, mostly to hide your over-the-top grin, realising it was probably too much but after a few steps, you heard Steve shout to you, “I’ll be counting down the seconds!”

You faced back towards him to see him grinning and walking backwards, before stopping next to a large black SUV that you hadn’t noticed was parked there with Bucky in the driving seat. Steve climbed into the car and you couldn’t hear what was said but by the shit-eating grin on Bucky’s face, whatever he had said was a tease as he was harshly shoved against the driver’s door.

Holy shit. You were actually going for a dinner date with Steve. But then… wasn’t this supposed to be your plan all along, to get him in a romantic setting and sweet talk your way into getting your brother a meeting? However, every second you were with Steve, the gang, your job, and your brother never once came to your mind, it was like your vision only zoned in on the Rogers leader and couldn’t see or think about anything else.

You were definitely becoming way too attracted and attached to him, that much was for sure but for once, you didn’t let these emotions scare you off, even though you knew everything would crash and burn one day, you were enjoying the here and now too much to even care. If this ended up destroying you then so be it.

Enzo was ecstatic when you revealed that you had a date with Steve, and even offered to have someone drive you there before you needed to ask. Naturally, he still had something to complain about as he saw the beautifully flowing dress that you were wearing, not satisfied that you weren’t showing enough skin but thankfully he didn’t make you change.

Staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long, you had decided to go for this look rather than your usual skin-exposed to sell your assets dress because you actually wanted to make a nice first impression. Also, the restaurant that was booked looked fancy so didn’t need more attention drawn to you when you arrived looking like a woman of the night.

Reluctantly, you bought his jacket, it wasn’t your property but the comfort you found in it, you didn’t want to return it, even though the scent on it was starting the fade to the smell of your own natural body scent instead.

You couldn’t deny your nerves, hands clammy and stomach twisting and turning with anticipation of seeing him again but that was soon replaced with excitement and almost…content, at seeing Steve outside of the restaurant, waiting for you.

“Do you need picking up?” your driver asked and you instantly said no, knowing that if he picked you up, this meant you had a limit as to how late you could be with Steve. Exiting the car, and shutting the door behind you, Steve’s eyes lit up and sparkled as he approached you, but he failed to hide the disapproved look he gave the car as it began to drive away.

“They don’t open the door for you either?” he asked, referring to your gang member driver. You shook your head, thinking ‘Were they supposed to?’ but didn’t vocalise this as you took in Steve’s appearance. He looked good, so fucking good in fact that your core clenched with arousal at seeing his obviously expensive white suit that had buttons lacing the front, a striped brown tie to match his leather shoes. “You look breathtaking”, Steve’s compliment snapped you out of your appreciative stare.

Looking up at his handsome face, you realised he was doing his own oggle at what you were wearing, your skin burned with excitement, feeling giddy as Steve finally offered his elbow for you to take. The way he looked at you, it was like he was in awe of you, rather than the usual hungry look that would make you cower from the other people you had to go on dates with.

Holding his jacket in one hand and placing your hand in the crook of his arm and letting him lead the way in. You’d never been treated this well, having doors held open for you, allowing you to lead the way through the tables to your seat which was then pushed in by Steve, it felt like you were in a movie even though in reality, these gentlemanly acts were the bare minimum in perspective.

The restaurant was stunning, it wasn’t overly full of other customers, and everything had an air of money, expensive decorations, and friendly staff, it was perfect. Your table was near the back of the restaurant, in the most quiet area giving some sort of privacy from prying eyes that all seemed to notice Steve as he walked through.

You were beaming and had to take a large drink of water to try and hide your expression, forcing yourself to calm down before Steve ran away from your overexaggerate happiness. However, as you looked over at him, watching as he undid the few buttons of his jacket, his own expression may have been calm, trying to uphold his tough exterior but, as he rested his hands on the table, you noticed that he was wringing his hands together slightly, the only sign that he was nervous which only made you smile more.

“You are looking very handsome, did you get Bucky to comb your hair?”, you joked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders by not filtering what you wanted to say.

Steve looked to the side and chuckled, shaking his head, “Just because he’s my second-in-command, doesn’t mean that we spend every second together”.

“Are you sure about that? You guys work together, you’re best friends, he drives you everywhere you go, and I’m sure he’s waiting outside for you right now”. Steve’s eyes locked onto yours as he genuinely smiled, the gleam reaching his eyes.

“Firstly, he’s only waiting outside because he’s doing his job as my bodyguard and secondly… you may have a point but no he didn’t comb my hair”. You bite your lip, holding back the giggle with the thought of two gangsters combing each other's hair in their spare time. 

The waiter then approached and took both of your orders, returning with some fancy wine you’d never even heard of before but the alcohol helped to ease the initial nerves.

You and Steve stayed until closing and the night quickly replaced the rooftop as your favourite night of your life. Both of you didn’t even seem to blink as you held eye contact like you were scared that if you looked away, the other would disappear.

You had also never spoken so much about your life, ever before. Steve continuously asked questions and was genuinely interested, even if there weren’t many exciting things to tell him. He would continuously compliment you and at one point, after the empty plates were taken away, your hands accidentally touched on top of the table as you both simultaneously reached for your drinks but then they just stayed there, holding hands. His palms and fingertips were rough from training and there were small scars littering his knuckles but the sheer size of them dwarfed your own.

It was an odd sensation to feel so at ease with someone, especially someone so dangerous. Sure, the rumours were there for a reason, he had to be the top gangster by doing dangerous and violent acts but the way he was looking at you like you were the only one to make him smile before.

Not only this but you were surprised by just how willing he was to open up about his life when you were wanting to find out everything you could. Steve talked about his childhood, how he was quite an unwell kid, meeting Bucky and they both joined the army in their early adulthood, much to Bucky’s dismay with how ill Steve was. Then the most surprising information was when Steve’s voice quieted, glanced around so no one would overhear.

Steve and Bucky had been a part of experiments that seemed to change their DNA which caused them to be the bulky forms that they were now, with enhanced stamina, strength, and vision, everything seemed to be to an exaggerated level. It was almost unbelievable to listen to, but then he showed you a picture of him as a 20-year old and he was tiny, scrawny and ill-looking, nothing like the towering, healthy, muscular man that was sitting across the table from you now.

Steve was open and honest about everything, even though he didn’t know why he was so willing to tell the sister of his potential enemy about facts regarding his gang, but once he started he couldn’t stop. Like he wanted to share more of himself to be closer to you in some way and break down the Mafia leader wall that he automatically had around himself at all times.

“I think the servers are waiting for us to leave”,  Steve whispered as he peaked over your shoulder. Turning in your chair, you saw that all the other tables were empty and the waiters were sitting together having completed all the other work. How long had it even been? You could talk to Steve all night if you could.

Steve paid with a significant tip for everyone and placed a steady hand on your lower back as you both walked towards the exit. He had offered to have Bucky take you home but you decided that maybe a taxi would be better, still needing to keep some anonymity at your brother's home.

“You don’t have to wait with me”, you stared up at Steve as he stood close enough that you could feel his warmth, much like on the rooftop, maybe his heat was a side effect of the experiments he’d gone through. Steve didn’t answer your question, instead giving a deadpan look before looking at what you still held in your arms - his jacket.

The pit in your stomach returned as you reluctantly began to hand over his jacket but Steve held up a finger to wait as he began to pull off his white blazer. He noticed how much you found comfort in the navy jacket so gave you his white one, took the navy one from your grip and shrugged it on. “Gives me an excuse to see you again”, Steve commented as you held his white blazer close, he had to refrain from groaning as the navy jacket smelt like you, his cock twitching in his pants with how much he wanted to wake up to that smell every morning.

“Is it weird to say I wish this night wouldn’t end?” your voice was timid as you asked him, becoming slightly nervous as you stared at your shoes. Steve’s brown leather shoes moved closer to yours, the tips just brushing together with how close he now stood. One of his fingers slid underneath your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him.

You gazed at him, seeing his cheeks were slightly flushed again, lips parted and shining from where he had recently run his tongue along them, his captivating eyes half-lidded and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you and what scared you a little was that you desperately wanted him to.

Steve wanted to kiss you, he had since before he knew who you truly were but for now, he instead tilted your head to the side and gently kissed your cheek, his finger slipping ever so slightly over your jaw as you seemed to forget how to breathe.

“Thank you for today, for showing me that there’s more to this world than just work, that there is some hope”, Steve admitted, his breath tickling your ear.

Now you definitely didn’t want the night to end and wished that you could reciprocate his words of affection but you panicked as the taxi pulled up next to you both. “Can I have your number?”

“I thought I was going to have to beg”, he was joking but the thought seemed to unlock something in your lonely, virgin brain and instantly had to rub your thighs together as tension built. Luckily Steve didn’t notice as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, handing it to you to type your number into and then text it, your phone vibrating a second later with a text reading: ‘Tell me you’re mine”.

Your eyes were ablaze as you snapped your attention up to him but he was leaning over to open your taxi door, offering a hand to help you into the back seat. He even helped you to do your seatbelt, making sure you were safe before leaning into the car, “when can I see you again?” you asked, hopefully.

“I’ll cancel any plans if it means I get to see you, text me when you miss me and I’ll come running”, Steve inched forward and kissed your temple slowly, breathing in your smell one last time before standing back and shutting the door. The taxi began driving as you numbly said your address, eyes not leaving Steve’s as the car began to roll away until you could no longer see the blonde man anymore.

You felt overwhelmingly sad, an exaggerated feeling for someone who had only been on one date with the man but his attentiveness, made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Never in your life had you experienced someone caring for you or showing any sort of affection that didn’t leave you feeling used.

Your life was lonely and Steve was reminding you that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be so without losing your courage that suddenly flooded your heart, you pulled up Steve’s last text, reading the word ‘mine’ over and over again and decided to send him one make.

‘I’m yours’.

Arriving into the driveway of Enzo’s home, did it then click that you hadn’t in fact asked for the meeting. The one thing you actually had gone to do, you hadn’t done, Enzo not even crossing your mind throughout the entire night. You’d hoped that maybe he was asleep and then you could text Steve maybe, even though you weren’t sure what you’d say.

Your luck seemed to run out however as Enzo was waiting with anticipation for your return, not even giving you a second to take your shoes off before gripping your arm and dragging you to his office.

You couldn’t lie, not when there was so much expected from this meeting and if you said that Steve said yes and when you eventually were able to meet with him and he said no, Enzo’s reaction would be devastating.

When your brother lost his temper, he usually liked to take his anger out on objects around you, his office walls having to be replastered multiple times from where his fist had left holes. But recently, like the day before, he began to let his anger out on you by resting his knife against your throat with the threat to press harder.

However today, he didn’t remove his knife from its sheath and instead slammed your body into the wall with his hand around your neck, cutting off your airways. A loud buzzing filled your ears as you struggled to escape, you couldn’t even hear his words of anger, not until he threw you to the floor where you desperately gasped for air which was difficult as you tried not to hyperventilate.

“So what are you going to do, huh? TELL ME!” Enzo screamed and you cringed away from where he stood over you.

“I’ll- I’ll text him to meet tomorrow and I can ask him then, it’ll be better to ask in person”, your voice shook as the tears began flowing down your cheeks.

“Well go on then!”

Reaching into your pocket, your fingers trembled violently as you tried to type to Steve, heart pounding with anxiety. ‘Could we meet tomorrow? I’m not sure if I’m sounding too eager but I’d love to replay the favour and buy you lunch if you’re free?’

As you were waiting for a response, you massaged the skin of your neck as Enzo poured himself a heft glass of whiskey, drinking it all in a few gulps before pouring another one. As he was halfway through his second glass, Steve responded.

‘I meant what I said, I’m always free if it means I get to see you. I was just about to ask you for brunch tomorrow so great minds think alike and you aren’t repaying any favours, I want to treat you. Let me know where to pick you up, baby girl’.

You would have sheepishly grinned at his text but the realisation of actually having to portray his trust set in and you instead felt numb. After informing Enzo, he stormed off to god-knows-where, leaving you to crawl back to your bedroom and cry enough that your eyes were sore and swollen.

You didn’t want Steve to feel like you were just using him to get a meeting for your brother, but it was inevitable that as soon as you asked, the whirlwind of excitement and hope would soon extinguish.

You’d arranged to have Steve pick you up outside of Cakes Bakes at 11:30 the next day. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, you had only slept for an hour and that was only because you had cried for so long that you’d passed out. Your body and emotions felt drained, scared of Enzo, and worried about seeing Steve, it was a complete difference to how you were feeling 24 hours ago.

As you were only going for a late lunch, you decided to wear a simple dress that ended mid-thigh, the fabric was soft giving you space to breathe and not feel restricted. You also made sure to style your make-up so that it wasn’t obvious that your under eyes were swollen, even if the whites of your eyes were slightly red, you could always put that off to the cool weather making your eyes water.

You stared at his white jacket for far too long, thinking whether or not to bring it, but a selfish part of your mind decided to leave it on your bed, if Steve never wanted to see you again after today, then at least you could have this as a memory.

Taking a deep breath as you saw Steve’s SUV pull up to the curb, you allowed yourself to feel somewhat excited as he grinned at you, climbing out of the car to sweetly kiss your cheek. “God, you look amazing”.

“Thank you, so do you, are you always this dressed up?” You asked, surprised that your voice sounded so confident with how awful you felt inside but you did want to know the answer to your question. Steve was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone and black pants that shaped perfectly over his sculptured ass… ok wait you needed to not be so quick to stare as he held the car door open for you.

“I need to keep up appearances, don’t I?” he cockily responded with a smirk that made you flush with excitement. As Steve closed your door and began walking around the car to get back into the driver's side, another voice from behind you made you scream.

“Hey, I’m Bucky, it’s nice to finally meet you!” Turning in your chair, fast enough to make you dizzy you were greeted with a gloved hand, extended for you to shake and the owner of that hand grinning hard enough to show the dimples in his cheeks.

With one hand, you grabbed your chest feeling your pounding heart beneath, not having expected anyone else to be in the car, and with the other hand, accept Bucky’s handshake, the hand within the glove feeling solid but Steve had already explained that he had a metal arm due to an incident in the army. “Hi, I’m Y/N”.

“Sorry”, Steve apologised as he shut his door, “I should have warned you he was here. I told him I was going to grab some food and he insisted that needed to come with me”, Steve growled the last part in annoyance.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I’m just doing my job Boss”, but you could tell by the hint of mischief in his eyes that he came to snoop. “Anyway, I’m like a shadow, you won’t even know I’m here”, he readjusted in his seat, getting comfortable as he looked between you and Steve.

“It’s fine,  I know you both come as a pair, you were all Steve could talk about yesterday”, you teased Steve.

“Oh really? And it’s Steve is it? Already on a first-name basis I see”, Bucky eyed you with contemplation and his comment sparked your interest. He’d introduced himself as Steve, was it unusual for him to do so? You looked towards the blonde for answers but he looked ready to punch Bucky in the face for saying too much but he quickly changed the subject.

“So what do you want to eat?” Steve asked, turning on the car.

You all decided on Subway and rather than eating in the car, the boys suggested going back to the office to eat in the comfort of Steve’s office. You agreed, happy to go wherever they wanted but with the realisation that they felt comfortable enough to show the location of Steve’s office and welcomed as a friend rather than a sister of an enemy gang, you suddenly felt nauseous. 

There were lots of people everywhere who all smiled and waved at Steve and Bucky, but also remained respectful towards their boss, it was a much nicer dynamic to have than the one you grew up around. The three of you rode up the escalator to Steve’s office, it seemed Bucky was going to be eating with you too but you didn’t mind, he was easy to be around and just as gentlemanly as Steve, holding doors open and carrying your food for you.

Steve sat behind his giant oakwood desk, as you and Bucky sat in two guest chairs facing him, food wrappers in laps as you all ate and casually chatted. But even with how at ease Steve and Bucky made you feel as you forced the food into your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel sick, and empty.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked as he noticed your eyes hadn’t wandered away from the spot on the floor and since the run-in at Cakes Bakes two days ago, you never seemed to look away from his face, he missed your eyes.

Looking up, swallowing far too quickly, you plastered a fake smile on your face, hoping it reached your eyes, “Yeah I’m fine! Sorry my mind is a little all over the place”.

Steve frowned slightly, placing his half-eaten sandwich on the desk, “I haven’t made you uncomfortable coming here, have I?”

“No, you haven't, I promise, in fact, this is making me feel a little better, even with your shadow over here blatantly gate-crashing our date”, you joked, pointing your thumb at Bucky who grinned with a mouthful of food that made you giggle again.

Steve didn’t seem convinced by your excuse though, as he questioned, “So there is something wrong for you to feel better now we are here?”

You couldn’t hold his intense stare anymore and glanced at your lap, willing your mind to work and think of an excuse, ANY excuse, “I’m just tired, I’m fine, it’s nothing”.

Steve watched you try and suppress your emotions and contemplated a few facts. Over the few days that he had been getting to know you and allowing his own obsession to play out with wanting to be with you like you were his own personal drug. There was one topic, one person that had yet to be discussed so reluctantly he asked, “Is this about your brother?”

Steve assumed that maybe Enzo had found out about Steve taking his sister on a few dates and was being an overprotective sibling and maybe the two of you had a disagreement but as he saw tears pooling in your eyes and your bottom lip beginning to wobble, he didn’t care what had caused it, there was absolutely no way he was going to let someone upset you.

You were overwhelmingly stressed, realising it was now or never and nodded your head to answer Steve’s question. Both men seemed to gravitate towards you as your emotions began to spiral, Steve kneeling directly in front of you and Bucky to your left, removing your sandwich from your lap to give Steve room to reach for your hands.

“You’re going to hate me”, you admitted to him, sighing sadly as he stroked his thumb against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, you aren’t capable of doing anything severe enough to make me hate you”, Steve tried to comfort.

“You’ve only known me for a few days”, you pointed out quietly.

Steve tilted your face up to his so you could see the sincerity in his eyes, “Yes, but I’d like to think I’m able to read people well and sweetheart, you don’t have a malicious bone in your body”.

“You won’t be saying that after this, you don’t know what I’ve done”.

Taking a deep breath that did next to nothing to settle your nerves, your hands remained in Steve’s as you began to explain what was happening. How for years you had been used as a bargaining chip for Enzo, flirting with customers of his to get what he wanted and after meeting on the rooftop, Enzo had demanded that you do the same with Steve to try and get a meeting for him.

“But then every time we’ve been together, I forgot about Enzo, about his mission for me and every time I go home, he’s there, expecting me to have arranged things for him but then I haven’t and he’s mad. But then, every time we are together and the closer we get, I realise how much I don’t want to lose whatever it is that’s between us but that only makes it worse when I inevitably have to ask if you could please meet with Enzo?”

Steve’s eyes harden the longer you talked, and for a moment you expected the anger to be directed at you but his thumb continued to draw idle circles on the back of your hand as he questioned, “Does Enzo have anger issues?”

“Doesn’t everyone in this job?” you answered honestly, finding his thumb movements relaxing as you looked down at where they lay in your lap.

“Not for people you love”, Steve’s voice was calm as he spoke, sounding sincere but you could hear the rage behind his words and by the way his jaw clenched.

“Did he hurt you?” Bucky asked with icy rage. The tension in the room seemed to shift as both men waited with bated breath for your answer and for a minute you contemplated telling them the truth but if something happened to Enzo, what would happen to you? Where would you go?

So you shook your head, no. Hoping that they believed you as more tears flowed. “I didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else, that I was just using you to benefit the gang”.

Steve’s eyebrows unfurrowed as he shifted closer on his knees, “Don’t cry baby,”, he quickly wiped away your tears again, “your reaction is proof enough that you held no malicious intent behind our meetings, and that you are nothing like your brother. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to ask for this bullshit meeting and only when pushed into a corner have you asked”.

You took a few steading breaths, full of unbelieveable relief that caused the tension to ease in your chest. “I hate seeing you sad and knowing that someone’s made you feel this way. You should feel safe, I mean, are you even safe living at home with him?” There was hesitation in Steve’s voice like the answer would change everything.

“I think I’m safe, he needs me too much”, your answer wasn’t necessarily a lie as such, but the increasing violence didn’t need to be discussed.

“If you’re ever not safe, you know you can always come to me, don’t you? No one would be able to get within 2 feet of you with me around, I promise you”. 

You stared deep into his eyes, seeing them full of honesty and genuine care, and it wasn’t something you wanted to run towards, that safety net that he was offering to you.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift as you couldn’t blink or even force air into your lungs as Steve’s eyes captivated you. At some point, Bucky took this moment to step away, understanding that you both needed some time alone and as the office door clicked closed, the restraint both you and Steve had been holding onto shattered.

The two of you met in the middle, your body flying out of the chair, arms going around his neck as he cradled your hips, pulling you to the floor, knees pressed against him and his mouth lowered to yours. The kiss was bruising and full of desperation on both parts, wanting to be as close as possible, head tilting one way to the other, lips moving frantically needing to taste each other.

As your tongue teased his bottom lip, Steve seemed to lose some restraint as his whole body shivered, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat as his large arms wrapped around your body and he easily swapped your positions so that he now sat in the chair and you were straddling his lap. Your dress rose higher up your thighs as they burned from the stretch over his muscular thighs, your hips wanting to grind down against him however, this was unknown territory for you, but you could definitely feel the hardening lump that brushed against your thighs with his peaking arousal. Even though this wasn’t your first kiss, that was as far as your experience went.

Steve’s hands stroked up your back as he sighed with content, his tongue daring to dip into your mouth and both of your groaned as yours touched his. Your fingers were doing their own exploring, from the hard muscles of his shoulders, up to the surprisingly soft whisps of hair behind his ears, a strong contrast to the rough facial hair that was rubbing against your cheeks.

You wanted more, needed more of him and for a moment, you were ready to give it to him, but as Steve’s mouth began to kiss along your jaw, you had the sudden urge to tell him, “I’m a virgin”.

Steve pulled back immediately, hands moving to rest on your hips as his glazed-over eyes searched your face, “sorry, we don’t have to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable-”

You swiftly cut off his chivalrous speech by attaching your mouth back to his in a longing kiss, taking your time to pull back and rest your forehead against his. “That’s not what I meant, I want to do this with you more than you could ever know but I also don’t want the first time to be in a small leather chair”.

Steve grinned, pecking your lips one more time before nuzzling into your neck, “I don’t want that for you either, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy”. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest as you held him tighter.

“I’m happy when I’m with you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, like I’m actually safe when you’re around.”

“That’s because you are safe, I’ll always keep you safe”. Steve pulled back so that he could look into your eyes, stroking a hand across your cheek, “I don’t want you going back to where he is, without me there, what if something happens”.

“Nothing will happen, and I’ll always come back to you”.

“Will you call me if anything does happen? Or if I give you a call, if you don’t answer by the second ring, I’ll know something is wrong and I’ll come to find you.”

Nodding your head you agreed to his terms, you were always by your phone so was pretty simple to answer unless something was wrong. “What do you want me to tell him about this meeting?”

“Tell him I can do it today, I need to see that coward's face.” Your nerves began to surface again and so Steve tenderly kissed your cheek, as your lips were slightly swollen from the make-out session. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to your brother if you don’t want me to, you’re my priority through all of this”.

Your stomach bubbled with an unknown feeling as you admitted, “I’ve never been someone's priority before”.

Steve’s eyes saddened, “I hate that it’s taken you this long to feel justified and that you matter”. Your fingers stroked across his cheek, following the direction of his hair in soft motions and you could tell he was nervous for his next statement. “During the meeting, you’re going to see a side of me that you might not recognise but, I need to be the boss if it's the boss he wants to see so bad that he’s willing to use you to get to me”.

“I know”, you say, leaning your head on his shoulders, and relaxing into his embrace and you realised that this was probably the first intimate hug you’d ever received and it felt so good and right.

“I just need you to remember this version of me, the one that wants to protect you and keep you safe”.

“I’m not scared of any version of you Steve. The boss or the one that I’m seeing now.”

He kissed your temple, “I really want to fucking kill your brother for making you cry”, he admitted, his words full of aggression, not matching the soft touches that he was providing.

“To be honest, I hardly even see him as my brother, I haven’t for a while so let’s call him Enzo and pretend that he’s not”.

Steve nodded his head and continued to hold you for a little while longer but then eventually shifted, “Go and call Enzo, I think it’s time I meet him properly”.

#mafia steve rogers #mafia au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #mafia stucky #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #mafia bucky barnes #mine*

[bella-goths-wife]

What would happen if Ballerina reader started to take a liking to Belch more than the others? Like the others can't find her one day and now that they think about it they haven't seen belch either. They find them just having time together ballerina reader doing sweet things for him?

(I love Belch, he's my favorite.)

Yandere bowers gang reactions to ballerina reader preferring belch

Warnings: physical abuse, verbal abuse, forced relationships, sexual abuse, psychological abuse, injuries

I do not intend to romanticise or encourage any of the following warnings, my writing is solely for entertainment and informational purposes. I do not support or condone any and all abuse and I do not believe in any of the various themes I write about

Henry bowers:

Henry is the first to notice that you and belch had been spending a lot of time together

At first he brushed it off as belch being the ‘safest’ option for you

After all, Henry was physically abusive and unpredictable, Patrick was a sexually abuse sociopath and vic was a possessive and obsessive abuser

So Henry justified the amount of time you spent with belch as him simply being the least likely to hurt you unpredictably

But it’s when you start putting up more of a fight he becomes more aware of the fact that belch could actually be a threat

Henry had made it clear to the group from day one that even though they all were in a relationship with you, Henry was the one who owned you

And he made it clear that he would be the one to eventually marry you and have children with you after high school

And one of these ways he made it clear was that he would demand that every now and again that you would have a night with just him and you

The nights could be random or they could be a set in stone date, it depended on the month really

It mostly depended on if he thought he was losing control, he would force the command in place to remind everyone of where they stood on the hierarchy

So when he set a date in stone for a private night of just you and him, and you came and asked for the night to be rescheduled because it was belchs birthday? Let’s just say he wasn’t pleased

He didn’t even know it was belchs birthday despite knowing him since childhood, so why on earth would he let you reschedule if the cause was unimportant to him?

He denied your request and made it a point to be extra rough with you as a punishment

After that he made it so you and belch didn’t get to spend as much time together as usual by sending belch off on pointless errands and keeping you close to him at all times by optimising PDA

He will also act extremely cold and rude to belch

And because belch is sickeningly loyal and utterly manipulated by Henry, this will make him desperate to please Henry

So Henry will use this as an advantage to slowly build a wedge between you and belch to avoid belch getting the idea that you could be taken away from Henry

Patrick Hockstetter:

Patrick remained uncaring of your preference to belch until it directly affected him

Sure, he saw that you were more affectionate with belch and that you hung around him more than the others when you could

But he didn’t care about that

For the early days with your forced relationship, Patrick just views any affection as foreplay

So he saw this as belch completing the meaningless tasks of a relationship while Patrick got to enjoy the rewards

You were doing your best to manipulate Patrick for a while, so whenever he sought you out for sex you would act enthusiastically

Patrick was loving your new attitude about having sex with him, until you suddenly stopped being enthusiastic

It was like reverting back to day 1 as he had to force himself onto you to gain any sexual pleasure

During this instance, he spotted something on your thighs

There were dark, hickey like bruising around your thighs along side what looked like bite marks

Now, he knew they couldn’t be from Henry because of the night he got so high and admitted to Patrick that he tried to force himself onto you but couldn’t because the act reminded him of what happened to his mother

A confession that Patrick had been threatened to secrecy about

And he knew that vic couldn’t have done it because he was on the receiving end of Henry’s punishment of not being able to see you for a month after he got mouthy about how Henry hogged you

So that left, belch

It all clicked in Patrick’s mind

For weeks now you’d been denying Patrick’s advances and made up excuses to make him adverse for a short time

All that time, you’d evidently been fucking belch and you didn’t want Patrick to know

This enraged him

You gave something up to belch enthusiastically and happily that Patrick had to force you to give to him and you were always so withdraw during the act

It wasn’t fair to Patrick

He was higher than belch in the hierarchy, so why was belch receiving all the benefits even though he was a third tier member of the group

He thought over the possibility that belch had forced himself onto you, but Patrick knew that was highly unlikely because of how much belch adored you

The entire situation prompted Patrick to punish you with extremely rough treatment during sec and also running to Henry to report his findings

This gained belch a ban from seeing you for two months because of ‘disrespect to the hierarchy’ and it gained you a harsh beating off of Henry for not acting ‘pleasantly’ with Patrick

Patrick couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of belch pathetically trailing his eyes up and down your beaten figure with the same look as a kicked puppy who just got put outside for the night

And he couldn’t help the even smugger smirk spread across his face when Henry ordered for you to spend the night with Patrick to apologise

Because Patrick could always trust that his place as second in command in the group would always gain him more benefits

One of which would be making Henry do his dirty work, while he patiently waits until he finds out something of interest to tell him

Vic criss

Vic noticed your preference for belch the minute it spawned

He noticed how belch was the only one allowed to touch in you in certain ways without you flinching, how you would fix him up after he got a punishment from Henry

You never did that for vic

He noticed how you would smile for belch

That smile, the smile that could launch a thousand ships to battle

A smile you rarely gave to any of them

But you gave one to belch after he asked you about your newest ballet routine

How come belch got a smile and vic didn’t? That’s not fair!

It brought back the constant memories of when him and belch were younger and belch would break all of vic’s toys just to spite him

Is that what belch is doing now?

Is he using you like vic’s old toys? And is he going to break you the same way he broke them?

He deludes himself into thinking that you needed to be protected from belch

Obviously belch just wants to use you, he doesn’t love you like vic loves you

None of them do

He’d become frantically violent with you, you’d end up with bruises covering your arms from his desperate grips on them to keep you by vic’s side

Vic’s not stupid by any means, he knows that belch being the muscle of the group puts him above vic in the groups hierarchy

That puts vic in fourth in command, only above you

He knows that demanding Henry do something wouldn’t work because Henry trusts and likes belch more than him, all it would do is get vic punished and let belch know of his motives

I’d say that out of all the boys, he is the one to take his anger out on you mostly because he knows the groups dynamic doesn’t grant him the privilege of taking out his aggression on belch

That mixed with his constant possessive behaviour makes me believe that vic is the most likely to try and kill belch out of a jealous and possessive rage

He’d either end up killing belch and the other boys would turn on him or belch would end up killing him and the other boys would help him cover up the murder

Either way your wants or needs would not be factored into the equation, you follow them like a stray dog and you’ll spare yourself an isolated and painful few months

Belch Huggins

Belch already adores you

You were practically the first person to acknowledge him in a positive way, the first person to make him feel awestruck just a the sight of your pretty smile

So when you start to act sweeter to him and you do small things for him that you don’t do for the others?

He’s over joyed, literal heart eyes whenever he looks at you

But he isn’t as stupid as he knows everyone thinks he is

He knows that your preference is dangerous to both you and him

He’d try and be crueler to you in the hopes of pushing you away slightly, but without Henry’s command he doesn’t have the strength to hurt you

It would be like a lion playing with his food, so the proud lion would let the fearful mouse run back home

Now just because he’s absolutely head over heels for you, does not mean he’s not still very manipulated by Henry

So if Henry spotted the preference, he’d make belch the person to carry out your physical punishments

It would kill belch to hurt you but he had to, didn’t he?

Small seeds of doubt would enter belchs mind, and they would grow bigger and bigger as the other boys became ruder to him out of jealousy

If we were going down the route of reader manipulating belch for personal gain, they would encourage the doubt until belch felt resentment towards his friends

And if he didn’t escape with you, he’d eventually snap

And he’d definitely snap during one of your punishments

He’d watch as one of the boys hurt you and his usual sorrowful aching feelings would be replaced by an unbridled rage at your cries of agony

It would be an instant reaction to protect and defend

He’d kill all of them or he’d die trying

If he survives, he’ll escape with you and live on the run

And while he’s still abusive, it’s mostly psychological and emotional so he’s the lesser of two evils

If he dies trying, Henry would force you to dig belch’s grave and would claim that it was all your fault

And you’d be in for the roughest punishment you’d ever received

So you’d better pray that belch wins

#slashers x reader #yandere bowers gang #yandere bowers gang x reader #bowers gang #yandere henry bowers x reader #henry bowers x reader #henry bowers #yandere patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #yandere belch huggins x reader #belch huggins x reader #belch huggins #yandere it x reader #it x reader #it #yandere victor criss x reader #victor criss x reader #victor criss #stephen king

[graceraindrops-blog]

How much of a terrible mom was Cordelia? A full explanation.

It's a shame that the first post of my blog is dedicated to a rather ''interesting'' take @yuikomorii showed me, but taking into account that I've done my research involving the mothers, I find it a perfect opportunity to make a full explanation of Cordelia's abusive behavior.

Before I start, I would like to talk about why Cordelia acted the way she did (I AM NOT JUSTIFYING HER ACTIONS).

We know that Cordelia's father was neglectful towards her after the death of her mother which made her lack the ability to understand love.

Karlheinz manipulated Cordelia into marrying him and giving him children FORCEFULLY (because Cordelia did not want to have children). He also convinced Cordelia that it was okay for her to have many lovers and to have sexual relationships with FAMILY members

Cordelia's abusive behavior towards the triplets also comes over the fact of her jealousy and obsession with Karlheinz and surpassing Beatrix and Christa.

Getting this out of the way I will now start explaining why Cordelia was NOT a good mother despite her traumas.

It's not strange to view Cordelia negatively if she's one of the antagonists of the franchise. NEVER did Diabolik lovers ever paint Cordelia as a good person and constantly tell us about how shitty she was towards her children and how much it affected them.

2. I'm not denying the fact that around those times parenting was more strict, however, you're forgetting that Cordelia didn't just slap, ground, or yell at her children, she put intense waves of pressure on Ayato, and drowned him, she sexually abused Laito, manipulated him and groomed him when he was a KID, forced Kanato to sing until he bled and made him watch her have intercourse with other men. This was the abuse the triplets went through until they finally had enough and attempted to kill Cordelia, which they succeeded.

3. Yes, it's true that Beatrix wouldn't give the triplets much attention or love, she would probably neglect them due to not being her biological children and belonging to her rival, however, Beatrix WOULD NEVER do the messed up stuff Cordelia did. Yes, she was a terrible mother to Shu and Reiji, yet she would've never stepped down at Cordelia's level.

4. A normal mother doesn't drown and threaten her child due to personal issues, A normal mother doesn't sexually abuse her child and grooms him to make him depend on her, and a normal mother doesn't force her child to watch her have sex with men and doesn't use his singing voice to get horny. If she was an affectionate mother ayato wouldn't have found the need to HIDE himself from her and the triplets wouldn't have considered killing her.

5. I would also like to add, that no matter how badly influenced Cordelia was, and no matter how much childhood trauma she went through, that would never be a justification for the way she treated her children. This does not only apply to Cordelia, this applies to every character and to real people as well. It's a reason why they behave that way, but never a justification. Also, Cordelia doing the bare minimum and behaving like an actual mother for a few moments does not mean she cares about her children. I don't think this is explicitly told, but I believe in those particular scenes she's grooming Kanato to become dependent on her like she did with Laito and Ayato.

6. ''She never spoke that way to her children'' I'm sorry but I have to laugh?? I would've understood if you were an anime only (not really) but taking into account that you do know about the games this is really really wrong lol. I don't why it's difficult to understand that Cordelia didn't love her children. Cordelia is such a bad mother that when she was resurrected in Ayato's DF route, she didn't even apologize to him or to his siblings, and yet he still forgave her! She even told Ayato to APOLOGIZE to her and continued to insult him

(Credits to @dialovers-translations)

I understand (I think everyone in the fandom does) that Cordelia had her reasons to behave this way (childhood trauma and manipulation) but that doesn't excuse her actions. I don't agree with people hating on Cordelia and loving Karlheinz but I also don't agree with people defending Cordelia and saying she did nothing wrong when she did.

Cordelia isn't a black-and-white character and she's not a bad character either, she's very well-written for her purpose (an antagonist) but she's not a good person or mother. She never regretted what she did and if she was still alive during HDB she would've still been abusive to the triplets.

This is my problem with morally grey characters/Evil characters. They can't exist in media if people ignore their wrongdoings and actions and try to justify said actions. I'm not saying that they shouldn't exist but I'm tired of people painting them as good people or justifying their actions when their whole purpose as a character is to show that they're not good people and their actions are/were wrong.

To finish off the post I would like to say that I love Cordelia's character and I consider her to be one of the best-written characters in Diabolik Lovers. In my opinion, I would've liked to know more about her in further games but even if I feel this way about her I don't justify her actions and that's something we should all do. I'm glad the fandom no longer justifies the actions of the characters (with some obvious exceptions). And even if I like Cordelia as a character I don't shame others for not liking her, at the end of the day she was a horrible person lol.

#diabolik lovers #cordelia sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #shu sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #beatrix sakamaki #christa sakamaki #karlheinz sakamaki

[5ummit]

Stucky used to be my comfort ship.

I used to think Steve and Bucky cared for each other so deeply and tragically that their love – even if only viewed as platonic – could not be denied by anyone. Not after Steve spent THREE whole movies, the entire Cap trilogy, proving how much Bucky meant to him over and over and over. Steve was willing to fight for him and die for him in every single movie. I used to think that even if Marvel gave Steve another love interest, even if he died in Endgame, it wouldn’t change or negate how devoted they were to each other. That they would still be friends “til the end of the line.”

Little did I know what awaited me in Endgame was a fate worse than death.

Steve left and in doing so rewrote everything we thought we knew about him and his relationship with Bucky. About who Steve is as a character entirely. It wasn’t just that he abandoned his supposed best friend, who he had been chasing and obsessing over for years. Who was there for him and looked after him ever since they were children. If Steve had left the Bucky he used to know in the 1940s for some love interest and a life without him, it would still be pretty out of character, but I would eventually get over it. 1940s!Bucky was confident, happy, and had family and friends who cared about him. Endgame!Bucky is not that Bucky.

Endgame!Bucky is broken and lost and just now learning how to be a person again. Endgame!Bucky has no friends and no family. Endgame!Bucky just spent the last 70 years of his life going from one fight to another, being brainwashed and tortured and manipulated and abused. Endgame!Bucky is clinging by a thread to the one and only thing he knows and values in this world: Steve.

This is the Bucky that Steve chose to leave.

If Steve was any kind of friend at all – if Steve was truly a hero and the morally upstanding person he’s portrayed as, a person worthy of wielding Mjolnir – he would know these things about Bucky, his best friend since childhood, and at the very least, would refuse to leave his side until Bucky had some sort of support network and seemed well-adjusted enough to handle it. But he doesn’t. Even in their farewell scene when Bucky (looking like a kicked puppy) says to him “I’m gonna miss you” Steve won’t even echo the sentiment. He just says “it’s gonna be okay,” as if he’s aware of the pain Bucky must be in and essentially tells him, “don’t worry, you’ll get over it.” And I’m not even going to get into the terrible way Steve treated his other best friend, Sam, by keeping him completely in the dark about his plans for absolutely no reason and abandoning him as well.

Marvel didn’t just make Steve act out of character in Endgame in an effort to no-homo him and create a ~surprise twist~. They didn’t just make him a bit selfish and a bad friend. They straight up made him a villain, and I will never ever forgive them for it.

#in honor of the endgame anniversary #have this rant that I've had sitting in my drafts for like two years #which I wrote up at one point to get it out of my system #still just as true now and I'm still mad so I figured I might as well post it #the whole thing would be absolutely shakespearean if it weren't so goddamn out of character #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #anti endgame #marvel #my words #marvel wank #my meta