Egoist {Moira X Reader}

Egoist {Moira X Reader}

You knew who she was, what she was. Even in the black suit with the purple tie and under those gloves, the long nails of her hand were always visible, the way her right hand was thinner, veiny while her other one looked healthy, her face plate always adorning her left eye, even when not working. When she left to work, you knew where she was going, what she was doing. But when she looked at you, the way she held you, you just couldn't let her go. You loved her. But maybe, she did not.

It was unusual for her to have enough time to accompany you to one of your outings with co-workers, like on holidays, bit you were glad that today, this random Friday evening she did have time. Usually she worked from early to evening, always looking to find the key to life. And yet, she would always come home to you, she would lay down in your bed and talk with you if you were awake or tucking herself into your side when you weren't. You were lucky if you saw her everyday in a week, but you didn't mind too much, what she was doing was important, no matter how you disliked her cruel ways of researching.

It was a fromal event in a restaurant, a celebration of one of your co-workers birthday. Moira hadn't stalled around much to get read, she simply opened the closet and pulled out her neatly stored black suit and a purple tie. You watched as she got dressed, her nails digging into the expensive, sensitive fabric, somewhow avoiding it getting ripped. She looked stunning, like an absolute professional - as if she was a chef of a very high ranking firm. She wasn't, she was a researcher, a fighter, a member of Blackwatch, but no one else needed to know. Today, Moira was simply a scientist - and your wife. She had tried to cover her damaged hand with gloves, even tried cutting her nails, but they didn't want to be cut, so she ended up with broken gloves, nails raking out. Hopefully no one would mind her weird appearances.

They did.

Of course they did.

They were confused and you let Moira explain - some sort of terminal generic illness she got by being exposed to too many Experiments and fumes. A lie, of course. But they believed it. That was all that mattered. After you came home that night, she unbuttoned her blouse and opened her tie, letter Ng them dangle aroung her ill frame and falling into one of the chairs, exhausted from this day full of work and the meeting. You had smiled at her, tried to help you relax, but with a quick flick of her now ungloved hand and a curt "No" you retreated to bed, leaving her alone.

You don't think she joined you that night. Maybe she did, but you were definitely not in your arms. She was just tired, nothing else. It was fine, after all, she was a hard working woman.

You stood up early next morning, making her breakfast in bed and even making her lunch to bring to work with her, one that she'd probably forget to eat again. Her mood was better when she woke up, coffee and food ready, she thanked you, gave you kiss and left no food on her plate and no coffee to cool.

You didn't register when she started to change up a bit, when she would watch you closely, not with love, like she had before, but with curiosity. Maybe it was after you had been diagnosed, doomed to live only a few months. Maybe it was when she made you the proposal.

"I can fix you. I can fix you, like I fixed myself, like I fixed all of them"

Maybe it was after you had said yes, or when she started to expirment on you. You were unsure. But the experiments hurt, even though she held your hand, held you close in her arms when you cried, nestled safe on her lap or even when she kissed your tears away, her low voice in your ear.

"You are doing so well, Love. Just a it more, okay? Stay strong for me"

Maybe you should have declined, died with her love still intact for you, before you switched from lover to experiment in her eyes. Maybe it would have avoided this outcome. You were cured, yes. But the pain was unbearable. No matter what you did, there was a surge of huge pain following your movements. After a while you got better at hiding it, accepting it. And yet, no matter what you did, even after it felt like simply thinking was painful, nothing could describe the empty hole in your chest, when you saw her pack her things.

"Where are you going, Honey? Is everything alright?" She had looked at you, her red eye piercing your soul

"Of course, Love. Everything is just fine. Blackwatch just needs me to leave for a mission, that's why I'm packing a few things"

"Why?"

"They need me, that's all. I am the only one able to tend to my fallen comrades, after all-"

"No. Why are you lying?"

She looked at you then, turning around to face you and her cold expression made you shiver. That wasn't your Moira. This was Blackwatchs' Moira. Talon Moira. Crazy-Scientist-Moira. Where did she leave to, you wondered.

"I wanted to safe you from the truth. You are awfully sensitive recently. An unexpected result of the Experiments, I believe. But it seems you have unfortunately kept your attention to detail."

You looked at her, confused. "Sensitive? I mean, you have barely talked with me, these past few weeks, you and I, we're married! We should talk a lot, sleep in the same bed! You loved me before all this and that has changed! I just want us to be like back then again. Wher eyou go to work, come home and we sleep, Where we talk in bed and I get to enjoy your company, your arms. You have been distancing yourself from me, and I don't know what to do, I'm devastated! Clueless! Not sensitive!"

Her expression fell for a moment, just a glimpse pat's that cold exterior revealing pity. "It's your fault you believed you were worth anything to me, actually. You were simply entertainment for me, nothing more." Moira turned around, grabbing her suitcase. You tried to stop her, tears falling onto the floor. "No, you don't get to leave me like this! You don't get to walk away from me with all the damage you just caused! I love you! How can you say you never loved me, when you married me?!"

"Like I said. It's your fault. I never wanted to make that impression" She pries your hand away from her arm with her long nails and opened the door while you followed her close behind, words falling out of your mouth to stop her, none of them sinking into either of you. She turned around one last time, before opening the door. "I suppose I should apologize. But you have no use for me anymore. The experiments conducted on you have brought no new revelations and your body is already at it's limit. So impossibly weak, no wonder you wouldn't be able to make it into any of our Organisations."

She handed you the key to the house.

"I never told you I was a good person. You convinced yourself I was. I told you from the very beginning what I was. I've always been an Egoist.'

The door slammed shut as you fell to the floor, crumbling.

Okay I was absent for a really long fucking time. I've been working on the Spotify wrapped OneShots and a FanFiction again for my alt account (will it see the light of day? Hm, maybe)

I also have been busy with being sick, university assignments for the first semester (I despise group projects), and also a visit from online friends so I wasn't writing a whole lot, I also have some things to figure out with the Spotify Wrapped OneShots (the last one was a slay apparently, thanks for all the love, i actually squealed like a fox when I saw the reblogs <3)

And yeah, BUT, I got a proofreader app to fix my mistakes! And the next one will be up some time soon, I gave it to a friend to read over because I wanted to make sure the things I tried for it actually work (i hope they do, I tried something new!) and I'll see y'all with the new OneShot!

Also: would you prefer SoundCloud or Spotify links for the songs?

(I don't) wish you the worst (Eustass Kid X AFAB!Reader)

Halloween is tonight, and after pestering your Best Friend Kid for long enough, you had managed to get him to at least dress up with you - you were a bit embarrassed about the basic topic - Angel and Demon - but that was now the least of your concerns, when you stood in the bathroom of Kid's house and looked at the white costume with bloodstains on it. Damned be your frequent nosebleeds and the fact you didn't take anything spare with you. What a shame it would be for Kid to see you like this, right?

NSFW below

Not Beta-Read, we die like Marines.

I don't use warnings lightly, so be warned. This one is focused on drunk sex. The Reader and Kid are both drunk. The Reader falls unconscious multiple times during intercourse without Kid stopping. It is only for a few seconds each time, but there is heavily discussed material of the effects of Alcohol, such as numbness, the increased intensity of touch, colours and the inability to think correctly. The Reader is technically not in a state of mind for such a decision, but neither is Kid. Warnings for Haemotolagnia, rather known as a blood fetish? Mentions of choking. If you are uncomfortable, leave. I will build in a possibility to skip over the Smut, but please, if this is not your thing, keep scrolling. This is a serious topic. Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ For the Alcohol-effect cut, ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗ for the Smut cut

It had already been a Surprise to you, that Kid even accepted to host a Halloween Party - especially at his house, since he really dreaded cleaning it up, but getting him to dress up with you in a partner look? Most definitely unexpected.

He had been fairly stubborn however, insisting on his topic of Pirate King and Queen, when you told him, that that was cool but just too overplayed for the red head, considering that was his childhood go-to costume.

You had looked up some costumes and ended up comissioning one for him, since he never seemed to like the ones you looked up to buy - and you couldn't sow at all, so you never really saw his costume, until he entered the living room with two Bitburger Beer in hand, after you had let yourself in.

The thing was, you had a crush on your best friend for a long while, way too long for it to still be a complete secret - Killer and Heat knew, while Wire suspected something. The only clueless one was Kid, but you knew, based on the years of accompanying him, that he didn't do relationships, or, if he did, they were purely physical and didn't last long. But you weren't that type of person, and instead of ruining your friendship with him you had just decided to get over him.

But now, seeing him near bare-chested, four black straps connecting right underneath the meeting point if his way too well toned pecs, golden metal ring, undoubtedly being cold, with the fur coat and the black horns nearly sprouting out of his tulip-like hair, pants tighter than Kid used to wear, you just couldn't deny your crush. It was still there, and it was currently boiling tea to throw it in your face. And it worked. You were flabbergasted as you accepted the beer, opening it with your teeth.

He was your demon, at least for one Halloween, and you were his angel, at least for one Halloween. You hoped it would be enough. You also had opted for something more revealing, not too extreme, but definitely sluttier than what you normally wore: white shorts, showing the bottom half of your round ass cheeks, as well as a white, bigger sheer white shirt, messily and only partially tugged into the pants, a white tank top underneath. You had some gold accessories and white feathers as earrings to symbolise the wings.

You were still waiting for another girl of the group, she had just gotten her PhD, and thus would arrive a bit late, but would definitely come over, until then you'd talk and drink a bit. The conversation with the boys usually turned out to go one if two ways: Something with Violence, or something dirty. Those were just their interests and neither you, nor Adission, the other one, minded one bit, they were just very entertaining to listen and to add to.

This time was no different, swaying from the topic of waiting, to the topic of work, to the topic of guns and the specific new models. You supposed this was normal for soldiers in the Military and one that runs a gun shop.

When Adission arrived, Kid layed out some music and the party started - with Mario Kart, because of course it would, it was a great game! Wire was the undefeated champion though and kicked everyone's butts. Next in the Table was Mario Party 8, old but gold, you and Adission Teaming up, as well as Kid and Heat and Wire and Killer. It was a wild ride, with lots of curses, but Killers foresight was something to behold - and the duo's skill in Mario games. The evening continued with little games. A buffet and lots of alcohol.

Maybe that was what landed you in this place. You had simply sneezed once and had felt the thick liquid slowly making it's way down the inside of your nose, when you quickly threw the controller at Killer, a Sto not lose this match of Smash against Kid, holding out a hand under your nose, tipping your head forward, hunching über a little and running to the bathroom with a quick "Fuck"

No chance though, the time it had cost you to get past Wire, Heat and Adission, had soaked your white shirt, where most of the blood had dropped. Even staining your tank top. Great. Today if all days, fitting, you thought with a butter taste in your mouth. Both, from the blood and from the Irony. You washed your hands, while your nose was still running, not liking the feeling of drying blood on your hands.

After round about five minutes your bleeding had stopped, your face and sink were both clean, only thing missing was leaning your clothes. That however, didn't work. ou tried, in hopes it might work this once, but as expected you only smeared the blood further. Devasted, you looked into the mirror, trying to figure a way out if this mess. Your phone was with your friends, you couldn't go to your friends, because of, well.. Kid.

It's not like you were embarrassed, everyone knew about your frequent nosebleeds, that was no secret. The Problem behind this was, that Kid had haemotolangia. He got turned on by blood. And it wasn't like it's small, like it would only arouse him on a naked body, if there was blood, it made him run hit, but if it popped? You avoided such a situation once before, when he told you about it, because you had cut your finger and wanted to change the Bandaid.

This was more than the finger.

This wouldn't go as lucky, you suspected.

You could try to avoid Kid seeing this? Maybe you could lend some clothes, if they would fit? Just when you made a decision to open the door and call out to Adission for help, there was a loud, banging Knick in the door. Even before he spoke you knew it was Kid "Aye, Angel. You okay in there? You've been gone for a solid 10 minutes." You huffed. "Kid, I can't come out right now"

"You need Pads? I have some in the upper left drawer." You stopped. "You have Pads?" "Yeah, for Emergencies." "Huh." Silence. "You gonna come out now?" "Kid I can't, I have Blood everywhere." "Are you okay?" "No?" It was more of a hopeful and confused question instead of an answer, but apparently enough for Kid to try to break open the door. "You're not okay, I'm coming in." Apparently he himself had forgotten his condition, because when you opened the door to genuinely stop him from breaking his own door, he stopped dead in his tracks, gaze falling on the red stains.

"Fuck"

You very much agreed. Fuck indeed.

His gaze seemed to darken, and you stepped forwards a bit. "Kid, do you have anything to spare?" His Eyes were still fixated in the blood, clinging to the red drops, the way it had smeared into a pink, slowly fading away into nothingness. You noticed he was way too out of it, so you stepped closer, touching his fur. "Kid? Just let me through and I'll ask the others" With the slightest push of your hand, he followed. You turned him sideways, passing by him without any effort. You reached the living room no problem, Kid staying behind in the position you left him in, only his eyes following your every move, his head tilting slightly when he couldn't trace you with his eyes alone anymore.

And then you were out of view.

Killer immediately sat straight, already knowing what probably had conspired, his character on screen stopping. Heat turned to you as well and stopped, his glass mid-air. "Does someone have some clothes I can burrow? Don't give me anything that can't get dirty though, my Nose will be having a field day today, I can tell." Killer got up, mentioning he might have something, taking you to his room with you - the boys lived together, so that was really fortunate.

He didn't have anything that was good though. He left for a second and came back with the biggest shirt you had ever seen. It was white, with a band logo on the front. You recognised it. Kid's.You stopped, thinking for a second. You would get a nosebleed again, you were sure. And if you weren't sure, you had to expect the shirt getting bloody either way. You accepted though, retreating to Killers room to change - no way you wanted to face Kid like this again.

Kid came back to the group roughly 10 minutes after you rejoined them. You knew what he had done and you would pointedly ignore it. He was determined to do the same, unlike Wire, who teased him quietly - so quiet you couldn't hear, but Kids reaction was more than enough answer for you. You really didn't know how to feel about this, after all it really was just Kid's weird and.. well, just weird - fetish, not like it had anything to do with you as a person. But somehow you also enjoyed the thought. Your crush doing... That to the thought of you? Like you had been to the thought of him? You stopped yourself before your thoughts would drift away.

The evening went by fairly quickly, hours passing like minutes, 1 am coming and going, reaching 2 am and suddenly it was already 3 in the morning. You grew tired, sleepy, the bottles of various kinds of alcohol that had already been emptied filling the table, some random music running in the back, Playlists long abandoned. Admission was nearly falling asleep, so Heat decided to let her have his room, and share with Wire for the night. You'd have to do the same. Which room though, still had to be decided. Killer was starting to clean some of the bottles, you helping him, while Adission groggily sauntered towards Heats room. Him and the other two boys were still participating in some drinking game.

The first one of them to give up was Wire, conceding in order to not throw up on the couch. It was an interesting match to watch, but it had been clear as day that Kid would be the one to win. And win he did, with roaring laughter and a small victory pose with his halfway drunken bottle, Heat struggling to get up to finally go to the toilet, after hours of holding it in.

Slowly but surely everyone went to bed. Kid had decided you could sleep in his room, he would sleep with Killer or on the couch, depending on the available space. Kid was a big man and he needed a lot of space. To be fair, all of the men in this household were.

Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ

So you and Kid were brushing your teeth, the way too big shirt of him, you reminded yourself, still hanging loosely on you relatively small frame. You finished up, waiting for Kid to finish as well. You yawned, the alcohol slowly getting to you - you hadn't drank as much as the others, but some stuff, you favourite liquor, that had been gone in less then a few seconds - downed by you. So you definitely weren't sober either, which you really started to notice, when Kid's golden eyes seemed to shine just a little brighter and sharper, when his red coat seemed more fluffy and bug and when his red hair looked so, so, oh so bright that it nearly hurt your eyes. Or was that the lights in the room? You weren't sure. You couldn't tell.

What you could however tell, was the way that Kid bended over the sink, spitting out the remains of his toothbrushing, gurgling some water and spitting that out as well, was hot. Hot in a way you would have probably never thought sober. He reached for the cabinet, slightly swaying while doing so, taking out some makeup remover and tissues. He started furiously rubbing his face, his shade turning just a tad bit more pink where he is rub the makeup off. His messy hair was still held back by the horns. And you don't know what came over your drunken mind, when you kneeled on the toilet you were sitting on, reaching for the closest horn and taking it off. It was a simple hair clip.

You placed it to the side, reaching for the other one, nearly tipping over and only being fought by Kid, Face hitting his shoulder, arm wrapped tight around you. "Careful Angel, wouldn't want you to-" his smug, cheeky grin disappeared when you looked up at him, that gaze from the earlier incident returning. You couldn't piece together why. He pushed you back onto your knees, tearing his eyes away. His rubs got more violent, and then you saw the red spot on his shoulder, the way it trickled down the front and side of his arm, following his toned build and setting the dark coat he was wearing.

You looked down, blood dripping onto the white shirt. You held your hand under your nose, realizing after the first drop hit you hand that you were bleeding again. Kid didn't leave. You didn't leave. You held you head over the sink, letting it drop, coating the blueish stone turning a deep red. Kid stopped, face halfway done. His eyes fixated on you, the way the red dropped from the tip of your nose. He put the tissue aside, after forcing himself to move, getting another one, soaking it in cold water an puttingbit on your neck to cool down the blood and make it stop faster.

You washed the blood from your hand, starting to clean the sink, when he stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"Don't"

So you didn't. The blood kept running for a few more minutes, while kid finished his face, slightly distracted by your predicament. "Angel" You looked up slightly, one of the last few drops running down to your upper lip, when your head tilted slightly. "Yeah?" He seemed to hesitate, his red face seemingly dropping a shade. "Your Costume was good." "Yours was hot", you blurted out. That made him laugh, a cocky grin returning to his face, as he looked at you. There still were a few stray drops of blood coming from your nose, but the bleeding had stopped.

You had smears of it all over your face. Kid grabbed you chin, taking the tissue from your neck and slowly wiping the tip of your nose clean, when he stopped. He had a thought. And you had a hunch of heat kind of thought it was. You were proven right, when his lips connected with your cheek, tongue going over the smeared blood and sucking int the skin there. You looked down at him. That was a weird feeling. His nose near your ear, hair brushing you skin, the wet muscle gliding greedily over the half dried blood.

You reached a hand up to your lips, collecting the blood that had run down. "I have some on my lip too." An Invite. A question. He could refuse. Not like he would, considering he was fairly drunk as well. "Can I get the tissue?" You offered a way out, even though his answer was clear. Kid pulled back, eyes dangerously lidded, the ember eyes glowing, and a fight inside of him. A fight he lost, considering how aggressive he captured your lips, messy, open-mouthed and collecting the blood with his tounge, sharing it with you.

"Fuck, I wanted to do that all night"

◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

You hummed when he let go of you. "Those shorts really suit you well. That costume was so goddamn attractive, but the blood?" He groaned low. "Like a murder angel or s'm shit." His voice started to slur, when his other hand, which had been gripping the sink came up to his top you were wearing, pushing it high enough for the shorts to be visible. The metal, stained with blood left bloody fingerprints on the shirt as he held it in place, the hand on your chin settling on your hips, squeezing.

He pushed you back a bit, the back of you legs hitting the toilet and loosing you balance. He held you firm, his prosthetic hand catching your wrist and pulling it close to his mouth, sucking away some of the blood there. You hummed again, the booze hitting you full force now. "Kid?", You asked, voice playfully slurring, you head falling back, staring at the ceiling. "Kiiiid", you repeated right afterwards, not waiting for an answer. He supported your head, making you look at him, metal cool on your scalp. "What?"

"''m hot" His smile widened. "Want me to make you cold?" You hummed approvingly. "Don't regret it" he pushed his metal hand under the shirt, following the path up from your navel, towards your breast, his metal fingers trying to sneak under the bra. He couldn't feel it, how he was moving over it, instead under, how is fingers only grazed your skin, making you shudder whenever they did.

Your hands went to the metal ring on his chest, trying and failing to get it open, but you kept trying, huffing, frustrated. Then, angrily, you pulled, part of the ring opening, the first leather strap sliding off. You slid of the second and third one, pushing his cape off his shoulders and you hands settling on his muscular body, roaming, while you felt the hairs on his skin rising, where your touch would go.

Kid pulled off the shirt, pulling you into another hefty kiss, teeth crashing into each other and you mind blanking, when you saw how he looked at you, with hunger and a sense of furry, a rush to have you now and not a minute later. You lost you focus, lost your feeling, only seeing the red, the gold, the fire the man in front of you was, only coming back to reality, when you felt his metal hand on your naked breast, bra abandoned, even though you don't remember him doing so.

One of his metal fingers swiped along your nipple, careful as not to hurt you. His other hand, however, groped your ass, roughly, pulling you even closer and grinding into you, his erection pressing against you, rutting himself against your body in irregular timing and differing force, his desperation clearly visible. He groaned, the voice vibrating through the connection of your mouths, making you groan as well. His metal hand slipped away, going back to the sink and coming back to your body, smearing blood wherever his hand roamed. Your stomach, your breast, and when it went to hold your neck tightly, he left a bloody handprint of the metalic fingers and joints on your skin.

He didn't squeeze, but the simple pressure of his metallic hand on your throat, gripping just like he would a water bottle: firm to not slip, but not enough to crush, was heavenly. He pulled you away from the toilet, mouth still connected, tongues trashing in each others' caverns, when he pulled away, taking your hand, pulling you into his nearby room, pushing you against the door, closing it with a loud thud.

Your hands got lost in his hair, messing it up, combing through the small amount of gel in his hair, softening it to make it fall down, while he got to work on your shorts, drunken, fumbling fingers trying to open the closed button, failing and trying again. You hummed, opening them yourself and going back to his hair, when he pushed them down, over the bottom of your ass cheeks, where they slid to the ground easily, only needing a slight push of Kid's hand, to get them over the thickest part of your thighs. He lifted you up, your feet dangling in the air, you head starting to spin as he did so, loosing your sense of direction, your shorts falling from your ankles, when he let you down on the floor again, slightly to the left, back facing the bed.

You fell backwards the second he let go off you to take off his own pants, you body feeling way too week, drugged with alcohol and the haze of Lust, of want, of need. Your mind and body running hot, nothing feeling real and everything feeling 10 times more intense. You could feel every wrinkle of the sheets under you, could feel Kids hand approaching your last remaining piece of clothing, pulling your underwear off, your legs immediately falling uncomfortably open, considering your legs were still halfway in the air.

You saw his face getting closer, felt one of your hands being pushed next to your head, huge, warm, calloused fingers intertwining with yours. He lifted your body to his, pushing you further, when he let you fall down on the soft bed again, legs now completely on the bed, his mouth opening, the points of his canines clearly visible, as his upper lip pushed up a bit, wrinkles on his face forming, as he let out an unwanted low growl from deep inside his throat. The way he lowered his head to your throat in a matter of seconds, looking like a starved man, reminded you of the way a lion would bite into it's prey, tearing out the first patch of meat to devour after the successful hunt.

He was an animal.

But so were you.

Your fingers went around his back, one pulling his head even deeper into your throat, his tongue licking over your Adams apple, sucking hard, teeth digging deeper and deeper, hurting but in a pleasurable way - the feeling being so much, your other hand gripped his hand harshly, pulling, while also trying to get him away. Your mind was muddled, no thought forming, only focused on his groan, his sounds, absolutely infatuated with the way he was addicted, the way he couldn't get enough, the way his sucking on your throat made him feel like he was alive, as if he would die if he stopped. Your moans were breathless, hitching high from time to time, whenever he would suck or lick, or put pressure on the bite in a special way.

He pulled away, his lips glistening with his spit, the spot at the front of your throat where he had sucked, feeling wet - something trickling down your neck, if blood or saliva, you couldn't tell. His hair was disheveled, not sticking up quite as much as it did at the start of the night - not tidy this time, it was a mess, largely thanks to you. The hand in his hair moving to his chest, lightly brushing over the protruding scar, your mind registering the raggedness of it, the way it was uneven and slightly elevated from his chest.

The way he looked at you, hovering over you, his red hair so bright and messy, the colour of his eyes contrasting with his skin and hair beautifully, the way his hand still hold yours tight, pushing it into the mattress and the feeling you had, when you felt him between your legs, only one thought formed in your mind. And unwanted as it was, it announced itself in a quiet whisper:

"I love you"

Kid groaned at that, his metal hand lifting form the bedding and settling on your hip, his self-restraint hanging by a single thread, when he started to slowly push into you, his head fell forward, forehead meeting your collarbone, sending a painful chill from there to your head, when bone met bone. He huffed, while you let out a mixture of a hum and a moan, your head rolling back, the mark on your throat hurting while you did so.

When he started to slowly pull out and push in again, the hand on your chest gripped his shoulder again, you legs falling open even wider due to the somehow comfortable and uncomfortable feeling in your lap. The intrusion making you feel simultaneously stuffed to the brim, while also not being able to seemingly get enough. His face disappeared between your shoulder and neck, biting into the flesh there. You moaned loudly when his speed increased rapidly, his thrusts reaching a familiar spot, your back spasming off the bed, legs trembling, trying to close around him, as his name fell out of your mouth in high pitched, yet breathy screams, each varying in volume.

"Fuck, You're amazing, I can't get enough" his groans transformed into low moan, which he tried to surprise at first, an oddly gurgling grunt coming forth instead. But when he let go of that restraint, seeing your face, feeling the way your body spasmed, shivering under his touch, bending to the way he treated you, hearing you thrashing against the sheets, hearing you call his name, "Kid" over and over again, breathless and hitching, like you yourself couldn't believe this was real, your hands clutching his flesh hand in a way that almost hurt, the way your other hand dug into his shoulder, the way slow tears ran down the side of your head, he couldn't help himself. His moans weren't as loud as yours, they were more primal with a rough sound to them, fitting for a man like him. The hold he had in you hurt your hips, the cool metal slowly adjusting to your body temperature, his hand entangled with yours a bruising hold your returned with all your strength and passion.

You turned your head to the side, the dizzyness taking over again, black dots dancing in your vision, your body feeling way too hot again, the metal on your hips suddenly scorching, the feeling between your legs forming into a sharp but somehow comforting pain. A numbness spread from your brain, over your chest and to the tips of your toes, blacking out for a second again. You came back to your senses with overwhelming pleasure, your breath catching, hitching every split second, struggling for air, you body convulsing, tremors being sent up and down your body, making you tremble and thrash around.

But Kid had an Iron hold of you, after he had caught the way your body had slumped, head turned to the side, gaze unfocused, your hand slipping from his shoulders, you being obviously unconscious, there was no way he'd be stopping, when he knew you were close. You came back not even a second later, as if nothing had happened, Gaze still dazed, looking at his eyes, looking through them, the way the hand that had slipped grabbed your breast, a reflex when you came close, so impossibly close.

And when it stopped, A loud, high whine escaped your mouth, teary eyes focusing in Kid, as he kept going, which you didn't even feel at this point, only realising he was still there because of the hand. Your Head started to swirl, Colours spinning, clashing together, when you heard a voice "Angel, c'mon, stay" His voice muffled, was it strained? Your head faced the wall, even though you couldn't tell. Red flashed your vision, flodding with golden dots, when the blur disappeared over time, Kid's features sharpening. His nose, his red-fhushed face, a similar daze, even though not quite as strong as yours, in his eyes. A weak smile on your lips, as a hoarse "hey" was brought over your lips.

You felt a warm, funny feeling between your legs, when the numbness subsided a bit. "Angel", his voice broken, rough and there was something else, but you brain was too muddied to understand. "You're incredible." You hummed, loving his voice, managing another weak smile. "Rest", he whispered into your ear, stroking your cheek, "We'll take care of this tomorrow." In your dazed aphahe, while slowly drifting to sleep, you felt him lifting you from the mattress, loosing your sense of direction again, felt him putting you between soft sheets, his body close to yours.

Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

The sun beams were streaming through the sides of the shutters on the windows when you woke up, Kid snoring silently, his right arm angled in a way, where his head was resting on his hand. You sat up slowly, you head spinning and hurting, immense pain throbbing behind your eyes. It felt like they could pop out any minute. You went on you hands and knees, climbing over Kids frame and nearly falling to the floor. Your legs felt weird, the funny feeling between your legs still there. Still? You didn't remember much from the evening.

You found your underwear and shorts, pulling them in and opting to rather look for one of his shirts, instead of going out of the room bare-chested to give everyone a perfect view of your body. You found one in the pike of clothes in a corner, one that didn't stink too much of sweat, as to not overwhelm your senses and one that wasn't as dirty as some of the rest were. You opened the door as silently as you could, stepping out and walking to the bathroom, which, admittedly, wasn't too far away. You opened the door to Killer collecting the clothes on the floor, throwing them in a plastic basket. "Morning", he greeted non-chalant.

You blinked. " Hey." "Don't even try, I guessed when Kid didn't show up in my room and I knew once I heard. The blood doesn't help either." You looked down. "What blood?" He gestured to your throat, which prompted you to look in the mirror, spotting the bloody handprint of his metallic hand. You don't remember when that happened. "I already cleaned the bathroom. If you want to, you can have your stuff back, but it is full of blood." You hummed. "No thanks, I'll stick to this one. You don't suppose you have a bra or something?" "You can ask Adission if she has a spare, but we don't." You groaned. "Anything against a headache? "Already in the kitchen, green bottle."

You sat down the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring the weird liquid inside into the mug. You yawned, when you sat down, surpressing a since at the uncomfortable feeling when you did. "Rough night?" "Yep." You and Heat and Adission drank your drink in silence after that, Wire joining you three later, Killer starting to make breakfast. You yawned again, when Kid came in, the pain of the mark on your throat bareable but discomforting. He saw you, smiled, his best part only covered by his Boxershorts, and grabbed himself a piece of the bacon Killed was currently preparing, gobbling it down like a starved man, you remembered, parts of yesterday night flashing back.

He hadn't said "I love you" back, but by the way he picked you up, sitting you down on his lap and stealing parts of your drink, you didn't think he had to. It was clear for you, and it was clear for him and that was all that mattered.

Believe {Father John Price & Reader} [Angst, verbal Fight]

You loved your Dad. You really did. You may not know him, but you knew he was a good man, a soldier. But you don't remember a time where he was really there for you. One day, he sits at the table with you, asking you questions and all you can think of, is why?

A/N: I absolutely didn't base this off of a c.ai Bot I talked with. Absolutely not. Now cry like I have.

TW: yelling, family argument, ilugky crying, fighting, discussions about absent father, exactly that father trying his best, people saying things they don't mean or want to say, !!NO ABUSE!!

You had come home from college, when you already saw the strange truck in the driveway. It took a few minutes before you remembered it was his truck. You father was back. You weren't bothered, but it also didn't spark any real type of joy in you. Your keys jingling, you opened the front door, kicked off your shoes, threw your backpack next to them and looked for you mother to say hello.

You mother was in the living room, lounging on the couch, a thick arm around her shoulder, as you could see your father's head buried in her hair, slowly scratching his scalp. "Hey Mom." She didn't perk up like usually, her eyes only scanning you drowsily. It was kind off cute. She smiled, greeting you back softly, her voice a bit cracked. She had cried, but you didn't bother. Of course she did. "Hey John." You smiled at your father as well, even if it was a tad more blank than the one given to your mother. He noticed, if course he did.

Dinner was already done, so stalking into teh kitchen to serve yourself some food, there were a bunch of small candies strewn on the table. You recognized them. The tiny pinkish Bonbons wrapped in yellow, blue and green paper, a fancy font slapped onto it displaying it's name. You had eaten these a bunch when you were little. But you hadn't for about 10 years at that point. You sighed. It was a cute gesture, so you stuffed them in your pocket. One of your friends would eat them, it would be okay.

Finishing your dinner and putting away the plates, John accompanied you in the kitchen. "Hey, Mouse. How was school?" "Good." An awkward silence settled into the room. "Anything special happened?" "No." Another period of silence as he sat down at the table, in front of where you had been sitting. "I see you took the candy?" "I'll give it to a friend. I don't like them." He looked a bit confused. "I thought you liked them? You always lived them as a child." You sighed, taking your seat. "Exactly. I was a child. I don't like them anymore, too sugary sweet." You didn't know what he thought, not being able to read him like your mother.

"What uh... What have you been up to while I'm gone?" "Studying. I have a Job to earn some pocket money. Got new friends." "Are you dating anyone?" You shook your head. "Not interested right now. Maybe some day." He smiled. "That's good. Wanting to focus on your studies first." "I want to be there for Mom, that's all. If I get a partner, paired with the Job and my studies, I won't be able to be there for her. Don't want her to basically loose her only other family member." Your words struck John, his gaze flickering to your Mom still lounging on the couch.

"I-" he paused and sighed, scratching his neck. "I know I wasn't always there. But I have a few months off now, so we could... We could do something together. If you want." You shrugged. "Sure. Anything specific?" "I hoped you might have some suggestions." You chuckled. Of course. "Well. What do you like to do?" He pondered. He actually didn't really know. He usually stayed home, doing something fun like going to theme parks or taking the kids to teh ice cream parlour down the street. "I don't mind as long as we do something together. I really missed you two and we could do something together, I thought. As a family."

"That's sweet, John." You simply added. "Let Mom plan something, she's better at it than I am." Another round of silence brewed over them. "You stopped calling me Dad." Price stated, matter of factly and you flinched. You tried to avoid the subject. "Yeah." You paused. How would you let him know without sounding harsh? "I don't think it's right someone you don't know your father. It shouldn't be that way." Your words stung. They stung to actually admit, but they stung more to be heard by your father. You loved him, you did. But you just weren't sure if he really was your father. Biologically, yes. But he had never been there for you, or your Mom.

"I'm... Sorry. I'll try to make it up." "It's okay, you don't need to. You already lost my entire childhood, I don't think a few years more will matter." You mumbled, glancing at the table. You really didn't want to look at him right now. You were being honest, you remembered him always preaching to be honest to him and his Mom, so that they could always be honest with you. So you did just that. What would it do to hide your hurt? You could feel the way he had to digest your words. "I know I wasn't there in your life. But I would like to be. Please, Mouse. Let us.. talk. Tell me what you like, what you want, I'll get it."

You huffed. "I don't want anything money can buy. I want a father. A real one." Your words sounded harsher than they should have, tone sharp and accusatory. "Sorry, that's not... I just meant I don't need anything from you. Thank you though." He stared at you, you could feel your body heating up at his stare. Or was that your feeling of guilt making you feel this way? "I understand." was the last words spoken in the small room for a while. "I know I was absent. I promise you, I missed you all the time. I just wanted to hold you, see you grow up... I hated coming here with you having already achieved so many milestones. Milestones I couldn't witness, a baby that was mine, that I didn't raise sits in front of me as an adult. I know it's not supposed to be this way, and I really want to make it up. To get to know you. Please."

Your breath was shaky, as you looked out the window to the garden, tears starting to burn in your eyes. "I needed a father. Not a soldier that was never here." You muttered, you voice waivering slightly. "I know." He leaned forwards, putting his hands on yours. You pulled it backwards instinctively, regretting the action on the spot, as you saw his hand retract back, hesitantly, he spoke again: "I know it hurts." "Do you? Do you really?!" You felt your patience snap, something in you just telling you to scream at him, another part begging you not to, he was a poor man working his job and trying his best for you, he couldn't do anything against the fact that his best just wasn't enough. Startled, his eyes finally found yours, fury in your eyes as you stood up.

"Because I know how much it hurt watching you leave! Every single time, seeing your back as you got into the truck and disappeared for months! Do you know how it broke Mom?! I took care of her, when she was depressed, not being able to get out of bed because the thought struck her that you could be dead!" Your mother shuffled into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed because of the commotion. Your voice was louder, even if you weren't shouting, it was simply slightly raised by your anger. "When she didn't know how to fix something in the house. I tried my best to look it up and do it myself! I did the heavy lifting, I was that one kid in school who only ever had her mother! They called her a whore, you know that?! I protected Mom, I protected myself! Because you weren't there, like you should have been!"

He seemed surprised, before his body slumped into itself. Exhaustion clear on his features. You felt pity, but you also felt you weren't done. You wanted to be down so bad. Why did everyone else get what they wanted but not you? "I'm sorry, I wish I could go back, do it all again, make different choices, but I can't. And I hope we can go forward together, Mouse. I don't want to loose you becaus eif my mistakes, little one. I know my Job isn't an excuse to not be there for you and your Mom, I..." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I tried to protect you by keeping threats out of this country, people away from weapons they shouldn't have, and yet I failed to realise it was too far away for you. And I... I hope you can forgive me like your mother can, e-" "No, I can't!" You screamed, interrupting your father in his speech.

"I can't and I won't! How can I forgive a man I don't know?!" You started to cry, the sadness and disappointment mixing with you anger and simply becoming too much, as tears fell down your face and sobs and whines accompanied you. "The only one in this house that knows you is she!" Pointing towards your mother, Price didn't even need to follow you finger, the only other person in this house being her. "I know. I know. I want to get to know you, so please, calm down, sit, let us talk about ourselves. Please. I just want to be a father for you." "WELL YOU WON'T BE!" your mother gasped, John startled and you stopped in your track, knowing you went too far. You didn't even mean to say it, it just slipped out.

Grabbing a tissue, you pushed her stunned mother aside, making your way up the stairs to your room, as your crying became more violent. You heard your father scramble up in his seat as you were halfway up the stairs, his heavy feet booming on the floorboard, as he reached you when you were at the top of the stairs. "Please, Honey. I know it's a lot, but I really want to know you, I want you to know me, let us start a new beginning, please! I'll be there for you!" You turned towards him. "Until you have to leave again. I know your Job still comes first, John." "I won't let you down, I promise! I'll.. I'll find a way!" You huffed, your eyes gazing upwards to the ceiling, trying to hold back even more tears, even though they dropped anyways. "I know you won't."

"They will call and you will leave, and then we won't hear anything form you until you suddenly show back up. And then we'll have to talk to each other again! That's not how it's supposed to be! That's now how it should be! You should be here for me, and I know this is selfish and rude and mean, but I just wanted a normal family!" John shook, you could see tears forming in his eyes, as he realized the pain he actually caused you. "I'm sorry I failed you." "It's okay." Your voice sounded oddly at peace then. "I stopped believing in you a long time ago." You entered your room, locking it, as you pushed your back to the door, falling to the ground. For a few seconds you could controll yourself, before your son's, cries, whails and whimpers were unconfined escaping your mouth. You just wanted to scream, punch, run. You loved him. He was your father, so why did it hurt this much?

John, on the other hand. Stood frozen, tears catching in his muttonchops, as he stared at your closed door, posters decorating it he had never seen before, drawings and pictures of friends he didn't know. He had gone wrong so many times, why, oh why didn't he realize it sooner?

Spotify Wrapped OneShots

Done

Skipped

Already done before

Red Windows {Cloud Strife}

Go F*ck Myself (GFM) {Eustass Kid}

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND {Eustass Kid}

Love Like Mine - Stella Cole

Daylight {Reiner Braun}

The Scorpion and the Frog/Trust Me {Moira & Mercy}

An unhealthy Obsession - Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

Atlantis

Ghosts & Monsters

Thanatos (End of Us)

Black Fire

Gladiator

Main Attraction

Cigarettes & Feelings

That's All (The Villain's Lair)

Stuck Inside

Friends

EVIL

Jesus He Knows Me

SUCKER4PAIN

Eat Your Young

Beautiful is Boring

ur a zombie

Sweet Talk

Kill the Witch

Return to Versailles

Bad End Theatre - True End Ver.

Silver Screen

Play with Fire

Meddle About

Gambling Man

Mad IQs

Empire

Night Eyes

Everything Moves

Halo

Identity

Smooth Operator - Single Ver.

Dance to Forget

Blood & Glitter

Sometimes

Unknown (Till the End...)

Losemyhead

Take Me To Church

Play Date

Survive

Six Feet Under

Black Sorrow

Looking Like This

Polyphemus

Who is she ?

TUNNEL VISION

Messed Up

Egoist - Jenna Holiday

Pass The Knife

VOID

Autotheist

Tot Musica

She Keeps Me Up

THE CONTORTIONIST

Babooshka - 2018 Remaster

Punching Bag

BABY SAID

Don't Forget

Bones

Choke

Cellophane

Achilles

Below the Surface

Love Me Dead

CREMATE YOUR LIFE

Hands up! - Slowed

You're in Love - Joe Hisaishi

La goire à mes genoux

LOST IN PARADISE

DEATH

Engel

The Red Means I Love You

Pomegranate Lips

Simping For The Villain

Light of the Sun (Sun Wukong)

Always Come Back

The Horse and the Infant

Intruder (Mandela Catalogue Song)

Lady of the Dark

Happy Face

Cross My Heart I Hope U Die

Human Robot

Crows

You're so Creepy

This Is Love

cult leader

505

engravings - Ethan Bortnick

NYMPHOLOGY

LOSER

Crazy About You

The Toybox

Take the World by Storm

Old Money

Young Gods {Eustass Kid X Reader}

"Baby girl, don't get cut on my edges. I'm the king of everything and my tongue is a weapon. There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs. And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight" ~ Halsey, Young Gods

NSFW below

Mentions: murder, hiding bodies, cheating, broken marriage, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, domestic violence (Kind Off), verbal abuse

NSFW mentions: Worship, rough sex (mentioned), Consenual sex at the start, Non-Con at the end (mentioned)

No NSFW cut this time, sorry pals

I do not condone Non-Con in any way, shape or form. I didn't think I'd ever write something like this. But it just kind of came to this, considering this one shot is based off the song and I always interpreted the quote above as pressuring into sex, this is kinda were it led. I originally planned to have a different outcome here, but the flow got me

Be mindful. Any comments that glorify non-con will be deleted and you will be blocked. People went through this, they experienced the pain and the suffering and the torment. I am not here to make light of what goe son behind the scenes, I'm not here to write a silly little enter tainemtn for you. Rape isn't entertainment, it should never be.

He wasn't good for you. You knew. He knew. Everyone knew. They kept telling you he wasn't for you, but you didn't want to listen. He was Kid, your Kid. Hotheaded, stubborn, aggressive but still yours. And he did keep it that way, he still remained yours, but never yours to control, to calm down. He was yours to love, but you were not his to love unconditionally.

There had been many instances, many mistakes you had caught him in, but still he kept you close. It's not like he forced you, it was simply your obsession with him, the way he made you feel, knew to play you like an instrument he had studied since childhood. He was insane, but who was to say you weren't?

There was that one time, he had been in your shared bed. Not alone, of course. You had opened the door after coming home, after eating your cold dinner he had made - it was quite terrible - and had seen him buried deep inside someone, wild blonde hair all over the bedsheets, hands grasping at Kid's and eyes closed, lowly moaning and grunting. Kid had heard the door open. Felt you enter.

You never forget that look in his eyes, as his eyes locked onto you, his hips not stilling their movements. He seemed angry, but not at the interruption.

He spent the night digging a six feet deep hole in the garden. You had spent the next morning planting flowers on the freshly re-dug dirt.

It was like this a couple times. Whenever you caught him, he would spent the night in the garden. It became a ritual of sorts, even though you were quite unsure about why decided to kill those people - men and women alike. Was it some sort of apology? Most likely not, he kept doing it over and over again.

Sometimes, when you were lying in bed alone, when you heard the shovel scrape and the dirt thump, when you heard his grunts and curses, when you heard him drag and something fall, before the dirt fell again, you asked yourself why you didn't go to the police, why you didn't rat him out, but the flashes of blue hair, blades, fishnets and a metal arm reminded you why.

Then, there were the nights he would worship you, his tongue lapping at every part of your skin, teeth working little purple bruises on your neck, on your arms and thighs, your stomach feeling warm where his flesh hand touched and cold where his prosthetic softly held you. It was sweet, loving even. You felt his mouth leave your shoulder, his tongue reappeared on your calf, he held your foot softly, before his tongue slowly made his way up. His mouth would worship your shoulders, your arms and hands, his tongue would glide from your feet up to your stomach, higher to your neck and into your face, he would lick you most private parts, making you mewl, making you moan. Making you absolutely his.

The Windows and doors would be shut, the curtains drawn closed, the noises of his wet tongue exploring your body yet again filling the room along with your moans and whimpers, your whispers for more and for him to stop already. He would make you come undone this way, absorbing whatever you gave him. His hands would continue, warm and cold a poetic play on your skin, as he expertedly played you, as he felt you shiver and heard you call out his name. Another time you would give in, and an additional one for good measure. These nights wer exhausting, pushing you to your limit again and again, making you forget what he had done again, making sure you still were his.

It worked, usually. These nights that seemed to be so full of love, if adoration and absolute infatuation from both sides, they were testaments of trust, a promise of love. Sometimes you wished it would stay like this forever, but alas. Another night, another girl. A different night, a different guy. He never changed, what would make him do that? Of course you wouldn't be reason enough.

"It's your fault I have to do this! You're just so boring, you're so strict and conforming, you always want to do the same lame things, like you want to control everything I do! Let a man have some fun if he needs to, you don't fucking provide it after all! Or what, you gonna say now, that it's not? Not your fault?! I even kill these chicks for you! I do that for you, or you'd flip! I know you people, you're all the same! What's the problem now. Then? You outraged cuz' the last dude didn't look like you enough? Does that make you cry? Should I get you to bed so you can rest? This ain't a fuckin' miracle dream, get the fuck over it!"

Of course, there were the arguments. When you had enough. When he had enough. Who was to tell? Maybe both. Screaming matches usually, resulting in broken promises, broken furniture. Broken Trust, even. You didn't listen to him. He didn't listen to you, that's how it normally went. Although, sometimes he did listen, sometimes he was quiet, death stare as you screamed your troubles. And then he followed, words twisted - or were they not? With an even louder voice, thundering through the house, no doubt your neighbours heard you, but they wouldn't snitch on the cops. Of course they wouldn't. The previous ones tried it. Their bodies weren't in your garden, but you didn't know where they were, didn't care.

"What?! That's not even what-"

"Oh, shut it with your complaining! That's all you ever do! What would you have done without me. Huh?! I could have left you alone at the altar! I should have! Would have shut you up properly! What if I snitched to the cops about the bodies, Huh? You were the one planting seeds, they saw that shit! If I would snitch, you would have absolutely no where to run to! Think you're gonna be safe in prison? Oh, snowflake, you wouldn't survive a day! You're nothing without me, you're fucking mine. So act like it! Or I'll make sure you will in the future!"

That was usually enough to shut you up. The fear of being rat out to the police, fear of being alone with actual criminals in a prison, some of which he controlled, was too much. At the start, that was always the end of it and he would go out, undoubtedly to do his own business again, while you pulled yourself together, cleaning the glass of the bottle from the floor that he had thrown in your direction. There had been no intention to hit, and he didn't, aiming farther right than he would have if he meant to hit you. You didn't want him to be mad. But after you realized, he wouldn't actually throw you to the cops, because they would find him, the threat stopped working. And it continued.

"You know damn well, that if they find the bodies you're gonna be the first they get in! I can lie myself out no problem, but what would they say, seeing a dude as tall as you with blunt force trauma, multiple stab wounds? Someone with your DNA inside and on them? No way I would go in for that! You would basically confess, and we both know that's not what you do!"

"Playing smart, Huh? Think you're better than me because you're a pretty little thing that can use their pretty little brain, Huh? Well, let me show you who that brain belongs to, I'm gonna keep my promise snowflake. I'm gonna show you that you fucking belong to me and do what I fucking say!"

He approach with loud thumps, steps heavy on the wooded floorboards, the remote you had thrown to deter him easily caught in his grip and abandoned on the floor. His eyes would shine dangerously, anger and lust filled, as he toweder over you, harshly grabbing your hair. He would tear you to the bedroom, ignoring your cries and attacks. The door would be slammed shut, key turned to lock it. The window would be wide open, curtains open as he turned on the light and pushed you towards the window.

"You gonna fucking defy me again, I'll make sure they all see you naked. And just to make it clear, if I need to go that far, Might as well carve my name into you, snowflake"

He squeezed your stomach harshly at that, empty threat hanging heavy above your head, as he pushed you towards the bed, his own clothes discarded fairly fast, and you followed suit. He sat down near the edge, yanking you to the floor and forcing your head onto his dick, making you gag as he went past your limits yet again. He pushed you up, onto the bed, hand on either side. You had stopped resisting, after all, what was it worth? Otherwise, you could be the first body in your garden without flowers. You didn't want to end like this, so you complied.

This was your life. You stayed with him, a twisted thing inside your heart telling you it was his way of loving you, his way of keeping you safe, but when he shut you off from the outside completely, no, since the first of these escalated nights, you knew he wasn't. This wasn't love, this was obsession, ownership. You were a hostage and you had no one to rescue you. You couldn't even help yourself.

So you stayed.

----

I actually originally planned this to be smut. Full on smut, but after discovering it went into a non-con direction, I felt really uncomfortable. So this is all you get. I will never, EVER write something like this again. I feel absolutely disgusting. But it's written, might as well let people read it.

This One Shot is not written for entertainment it also isn't written to inform, it's to give a sneak peak of why peole might stay with someone abusive. It's the ways manipulations can go. They might go so far, they might not. Please be aware, stay safe and keep in mind this can happen to anyone, no matter, age or gender or relationship to the abuser. Every Abuse is different and every story is unique. It's not our place to ask, but it's our place to listen when they talk.