#but I used to want to get revenge on him by sleeping with someone else

[dhaaruni]

It's interesting how a lot of people end up having tumultuous paths to their happily ever after (breaking up, huge fights, blocking each other on Twitter etc.) but people just don't talk about it, and I think we should do it more because the façade of perfection is tedious.

I'm not still actively angry about the circumstances in which my boyfriend and I fell out and the period between it and when we became official, but it does still upset me and I wish there was a way to discuss those simultaneous sentiments without discrediting either.

[almostempty]

too good to be true (frankie x f!reader)

Too good to be true (frankie morales x f!reader) | wc: 9k | other fics  | Ao3

summary: frankie, a regular at your coffee shop, is there for you when your boyfriend joel breaks up with you and disappears practically overnight. despite not knowing each other long, frankie just seems to be perfect for you and you fall hard and fast 

note: this was supposed to be for the accidental adultery trope for @auteurdelabre 's trope challenge from last month. i thought accidental adultery was more like the wrong bed trope so--you can find that here with Dieter's party, but it turns out accidental adultery is more like ..when you thought ur lover died in the war or something and you start a new life with someone else and then they show up again. that didn’t interest me- soooo (spoiler) in my version reader doesn’t know that joel only left her bc of frankie 

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, dark!frankie, stalker!frankie, dubcon, lies, deceit, coffee shop au gone wrong, accidental adultery, ex bf Joel, abandonment issues, anxiety, breakup grief, using sex to avoid processing emotions, face fucking, masturbation, crying, love bombing aka emotional manipulation/abuse, frankie doesn’t have a job bc he nefariously acquired a large cash settlement from his return trip to the jungle– or maybe he has a military pension idk don’t ask questions, revenge porn, jealousy, delusional reader, jealous and possessive frankie, if i missed something important pls let me know, 

standard weds warnings: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction so it’s free to imagine it raw; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes and i accept that 🫡

You don’t remember the first time you met, but you remember when you started looking forward to seeing Frankie. He was a quiet regular, didn’t ask for much, but was always polite. Kind. He’d come by at the same time, get the same coffee, and sit at a table in the lobby reading the news on his phone. Most mornings, you were busy enough that you didn’t even think about starting a conversation, but you’d sneak a glance here and there as he sat. Sometimes, he caught you, and you’d both flash a quick smile. 

He was a fun little fantasy to look forward to. You weren’t single or looking anyway, but it didn’t hurt to have something to help you crawl out of bed at 3:30 AM. It was always quiet until just after 6 AM, when the commuters started coming through. Frankie usually came through the lobby just as the morning rush was picking up, curls still damp from his post-workout shower and a soft smile just for you. 

Until it changed. He started showing up even earlier. That’s when you began to get to know him bit by bit. In the quiet dark of the early mornings, while the espresso machines warmed up and the 

You learned that he moved into town this year–not in this neighborhood, but he likes the coffee here, so it’s worth the morning drive. He’s single. Ex-military. Sticks to a routine. Likes your name. Remembers details. Asks follow-up questions about your weekend plans on Monday mornings. 

Did you and your boyfriend see that movie you were thinking about? Did you get to sleep in like you’d hoped? Did he take you to the farmer’s market? Did he like the recipe you wanted to try out? 

It was sweet. And infuriating. Someone you barely knew always remembered your plans or the little throwaway comments you’d make. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but it always stung when he’d ask about your plans, and you were left coming up with excuses for why they never seemed to happen. You carried the discomfort home with you until it spilled over into your relationship. 

And, thanks to Frankie really, it forced you to talk about it. Your boyfriend, Joel, had been drifting away. Complacent and avoidant. He’d been staying late at work, canceling on your weekend plans, always too tired to fuck, generally just a bad-tempered brick wall rather than a boyfriend. But after a serious conversation and some threats you hoped you wouldn’t have to follow through on, he’d agreed to make changes. 

It was working, too. You made date nights a priority. You sent flirty texts during the day–even if neither of you had time to respond right away. 

When he had long days during the week, you’d give him a back massage. You’d sit straddling his ass, rubbing down his shoulder blades, kneading circles with your thumbs, and savoring the view of his broad back and the warmth of his body under yours. You would pull the stress and tension away from his neck and spine, eliciting low groans of pleasure from Joel that would stir up the heat pooling in your core. You’d keep it up until you lulled him to sleep–or on your favorite nights–he’d flip over underneath you and watch you ride him until you were both slick with sweat, panting, and needing another quick shower before succumbing to sleep. 

It’s those tender moments that make it hurt that much more now. 

To think he could just throw you away like this. That he didn’t think you were worth the face-to-face conversation. Worth the closure. Just leaving you a fucking note, like you were a business transaction. Here’s your memo letting you know he no longer requires your services. 

Fucking coward. 

You re-read the letter for the thousandth time. It’s real, and you aren’t insane. You shove it back into your apron pocket. It’s your token. A reminder that this hell is your reality. 

You slip back to the front counter, plastering on your best customer service smile. 

But of course, it’s fucking Frankie. The concern is written across his face before he even gets to the counter. Are you that easy to read? You’re never going to make it through your shift. 

“You doing okay?” he asks softly as if he might spook you. Stupid big brown eyes. Just like Joel’s. They make you weak. You can’t be weak. You try to shift into a more defensive mode–chest forward, shoulders back. 

“Why? Do I look like shit today?” 

“No, never,” he tries to reassure you. Always so sweet to you. 

“Sorry, I just mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. I feel like shit.” You grumble as you grab his drip coffee and set it on the counter between the two of you. 

“I take it he’s still gone then?” 

You can only nod back in agreement. Can’t even look Frankie in the eyes; you just linger on his mouth and scruffy jaw where it seems safer to stare. Until his mouth shifts into a sympathetic frown. 

“You deserve better, you know,” he says like it’s a confession. Only meant for you and his coffee to hear. 

“Sure,” you sigh. Maybe he’s right. You deserve someone that can look you in the eye when they break up with you. Explain in more than a few sentences why they’d block you and disappear like a fucking ghost. Maybe you never really knew Joel at all if he could do this to you. 

You can feel your eyes welling up again, your face is still swollen from crying all night, and you’re sick of the emotional whiplash. Did you miss the signs the whole time? Was it something you did? Will you ever know? The cafe starts to blur as your heart rate increases. 

“Hey,” Frankie murmurs, “breathe.” It’s soft, but the timbre of his voice draws your attention. You focus on inhaling and exhaling, willing away the sobs. Just as you steady, they almost start all over again when you think about how pathetic you must seem to him. Standing at the register, sucking in shaky breath, and trying not to have a complete breakdown. 

But Frankie assures you he doesn’t think you’re pathetic. And somehow, you get through the morning. And the next. Day by day, you crawl through the week against everything inside of you that wants to scream and hide in bed for a month. By the end of the week, the only thought that gets you through the opening routine is that it’s your last shift before the weekend. 

There’s no way you could survive another shift just going through the motions like an undead barista. You know you’re on the edge, fragile and raw. You can just get through today and then spend the weekend locked in your bed wallowing, ugly crying, binge eating, anything. 

Your flimsy resistance almost crumbles when Frankie shows up with flowers for you. It’s too sweet. He seems so concerned. He claims he wanted you to have something to help cheer you up over the weekend. 

His thoughtful gesture is overwhelming. Having someone care about you, think of you, worry about you? And worse, to know that it could be so easy for someone to show you they care. 

To know that you aren’t hard to love. 

He notices the way your eyes shine, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. He apologizes, “If it’s too much, you don’t have to take them. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn’t want to make you cry.” 

You assure him they’re lovely and that you appreciate the gesture. You give him your warmest smile through your misty eyes. And you take the flowers home. 

You stare at them all weekend. 

Your favorite flowers. How did he know? They make you think of Frankie all weekend. His smile, how reliable he is with his routine, his thoughtfulness, how kind he is to you. 

The qualities you thought you had found in Joel. 

You let yourself embrace your agony for the weekend. Determined to make it through at least the first stage of grief. As if you can allot a number of hours to it and just check it off your list. 

A part of you admits that there’s something comforting about knowing you’ll see Frankie again Monday morning. That someone will check in on you. 

And he does. 

Reliable as ever, he shows up in the dark cover of the early morning. You greet each other with your deep morning voices, and there’s something about the fact that you’re the first person you both speak to every morning that draws a genuine smile from you. 

You keep going to work. Frankie keeps showing up. The world keeps turning.

Days pass and you can start to fall asleep without having to exhaust yourself completely. Some of the weight on your chest sloughs off when your ribs shake with laughter at Frankie’s jokes. His charm brightens your dark days. 

One afternoon, as you’re dropping an armful of grocery bags onto the counter, you notice the flowers he gave you. They’re starting to wilt. You hesitate to toss them for some reason. Convinced they’ve got another day in them, at least. 

You sweep up the fallen petals and pollen, spinning the vase to find the best angle left. The flowers may be fading, but Frankie is beginning to occupy a permanent residence in your mind. You find yourself keeping mental notes of things you want to share with him the next morning. A joke about a show you both keep up with, something you saw on your walk home, a question you forgot to ask the day before because you were distracted. 

Distracted by things that don’t sound like they could possibly be distracting. Like the curve of his bottom lip or the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Or worse, the way he smiles so wide you can see his dimples when you double down on an argument about a movie, TV show, or the best takeout on this side of town. 

The next morning he has fresh flowers for you. It’s as if he knew you were hesitating to get rid of them, to lose the physical evidence. You squint at him with a playful accusation of how did you know they were on their last legs? He reasons it’s been a week already. A week. It feels like it’s only been a day, and at the same time, it feels like a whole month has passed. 

It helps. 

The following week is much of the same. Morning chats with Frankie. Busy shifts with rushes and endless cleaning tasks. Running errands, trying to keep in touch with friends, trying to keep yourself too busy and distracted to fall back into the sharp pain of loss. Of coming home to an empty apartment. Of waking up alone. Of the way Joel erased himself so completely from your life, you have to find tangible reminders that he was ever real. 

You loosen your grip on the hope that Joel might show up with an apology or even respond to the text you had sent. He can’t even hear you out or answer a single question? You give up altogether on the idea that the whole thing might have been some confusing mistake.

There’s still a hole rotting in your heart, but if you stay busy enough, you can ignore it. Mostly. 

You stick to your plan, steadfast that time will heal your wounds. Days pass, and you find yourself once again asking Frankie what he has planned for the day. But this time, he hesitates. 

Frankie tells you he’ll be out of town for a few days. You aren’t sure why, but it feels like he jammed his fingers into that hole in your heart when he tells you. Don’t abandon me. Please. 

He must see right through you. 

“Here,” he says, holding out his hand. “I know it’s only a few days, but I was thinking I don’t want to miss out on your remarkably accurate reality TV predictions. You take the napkin with his number written on it. How old-fashioned. It makes your heart flutter. “Keep me updated.” 

You swallow the butterflies and turn the energy into a smirk. “You’re so going to regret this,” you tease. 

You feel lit from within, glowing and floaty for the rest of your shift. Getting the hot regular’s number gives you a rush. It’s not like he asked you on a date or anything, but still, it feels good to have someone want to keep talking to you. 

Until you clock out and immediately start spiraling. Should you text him now just to give him your number? Wish him a safe trip? Play it cool and wait until tomorrow morning? Or maybe he’s busy in the morning? Shit. You never even asked what his trip was for. 

……

It’s early afternoon when Frankie’s phone buzzes. Your shift must have just ended. 

You: it’s me!

You: figured it’s only fair you get my number now, too 

Frankie: Hey you :) 

You: hey :) 

You: i hope the trip goes well 

Frankie: Thanks, it’ll be better now. 

You: how come? 

He underestimated you. He thought he wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow. Thought it would take longer. 

Frankie: Well, I just got this pretty girl’s number. Now I’ve got her updates to look forward to. 

He shakes his head to himself, pocketing his phone and stretching out on his sofa. 

Maybe he didn’t need the ruse of being out of town at all. You don’t need the absence to suck you in any deeper; you’re moving on faster than he thought. Good. 

He sprawls out across the couch like a lazy dog in the sun, TV on mute, still fully dressed. He drags his eyes over the bare walls of his apartment. He’s going to need the next few days to make the place seem a little more welcoming. More like a place you’d be happy to wake up in. 

He checks the notes hidden in his phone of places you shop, your favorite color, the way your apartment is decorated. He already knows what you want. What you need. With that thought, he drifts off, satisfied, into a long nap. 

He doesn’t wake until his evening alarm goes off, checking his phone to see what reality show you’re going to be glued to tonight. MILF manor. Who comes up with these? He rolls his eyes, stretching, yawning, and traipsing across his apartment to find some cold pizza in the fridge. 

Holding one slice between his teeth and the other in one hand, he debates whether he should take a drive through your neighborhood or stay in for the night. His phone buzzes again, and he figures it’s a sign. He drops his pants near the hallway and scarfs his cold dinner as he settles back in the living room, unmuting the show and opening your messages. 

You’re funny. 

Sending quick-witted observations and callbacks. 

You force him to pay attention. You’re sharp. If he doesn’t watch, you’ll know. You always call him out for missing the nuance. You challenge that he could predict the next winner if he paid closer attention. 

When you get frustrated with him and huff about how he missed something completely obvious, he memorizes your expressions. The fire in your eyes when you’re passionate. You feel so deeply and express your emotions so freely. 

He likes that about you. Funny. Smart. Bold. Passionate. Sexy.

Perfect. 

He lets his mind wander as he leans back. The room glows from the light of the TV, flashing brighter and dimmer. The look on your face when he said he’d be gone for a few days pops into his mind, how your eyes flashed wide and the soft pout that tugged at your bottom lip. 

You need him. It’s so clear. And you’re so perfect. 

The show is just noise. Static. 

He closes out of your messages. Opening up his photos. Scrolling through pictures of you. Some from social media, and some taken while you were working and unaware. 

Perfect. 

His eyes fall shut as he tips his head back, relaxed and comfortable as he sinks deeper into the cushion. 

“Perfect lips, perfect mouth,” he mutters to himself as he sets the phone aside altogether. 

It’s a simple but effective scene that plays out in his mind. A go-to fantasy since the day he first laid eyes on you. 

He wedges his boxers down just far enough to free his half-hard cock. He tries to start slow, with languid strokes as he imagines the heat of your mouth sucking him deeper. The sight of you looking up at him with your lips stretched around him. 

“Just perfect,” he groans to himself. He can’t hold back his urgency at the thought of you, quickly amping up the speed of his wrist and the strength of his grip. It’s minutes, or maybe seconds before his muscles are tensing and jerking as he comes to the thought of you. 

It eases the tension, but he still needs you. Soon. 

……

The rest of your week passes quickly. 

Your head is in the clouds over your new texting buddy. You check your phone on all your breaks but send yourself into another spiral, trying to work out the balance between enthusiastic but not needy. Responding quickly, but not being too much. You don’t want to come off as crazy.

It fully absorbs your attention. The excitement and the anxiety. The rush when you get a new message and the anguish over every word you type. Rereading your messages until you get a response. Worrying yourself over your silly jokes and banter. But when he responds, it’s addictive. You’re smitten when he matches your energy or sends a flirty quip. 

It makes you smile so hard your cheeks burn. You get distracted taking orders. It’s all-consuming. 

………

Frankie keeps tabs on you the rest of the week. When you walk home from work, when you run errands, when you’re out with your friends. He picks up things for his apartment while you’re at work. At night, he drives down your block. He watches you watching TV. Until dark, then you diligently shut your curtains just as the last dregs of the sunset disappear. 

Tonight, he lingers, still parked across the street from your apartment building. He sends another text, and his eyes flick to your curtains like you might open them back up just for him. You’re such a good girl for that, though–not letting anyone else watch. 

Frankie: I’m back tomorrow. You have weekend plans? 

You: that’s great! no plans for me

Frankie: You want to watch tomorrow’s episode together? 

You: that would be fun! 

Frankie: Perfect :) 

………

You don’t know why you offered to host. You feel like your place has been a mess. Since Joel left, you’ve been letting your depression piles calcify. You shove your laundry into the washer, toss your unopened mail into a drawer, and do your best to make it look like you’re a fully functioning adult. 

Something about having Frankie over has you feeling pent up. 

You’re nervous. Excited. And you’re still unregulated and exhausted from the emotional devastation of Joel disappearing on you. You’ve been letting yourself sink into the distraction of making a new friend. A hot, new friend. But as helpful as the distraction is, you still haven’t really processed the pain. 

Maybe it’s too soon to let yourself think about Frankie all the time. Maybe you need to really feel your misery and figure out what you missed. What you did wrong. No, even your body rejects that idea, sending a shiver of anxiety through you. 

Fuck it. 

You’re both single adults. There’s no rulebook that says you can’t entertain a new crush. So what’s the harm? You’re hoping that seeing Frankie in person will help you get clarity on the flirty vibe of his texts. Are they truly flirty, or are you just delusional? 

You do your best to find a casual “just watching trash TV” type of outfit after your everything shower. You bought enough snacks to feed a high school football team, you know, just in case. You flutter around your space, hastily cleaning anything else you can think of, worried about details that only an evil in-law would scrutinize you for. 

Despite your frenzy and feeling on edge all afternoon, the concern all seems to vanish when Frankie shows up at your door. You welcome him in and swoon a little over the fresh flowers he brought you. You still have some nerves that don’t relent, but they’re the smiley, giggly, butterfly type of nerves now. 

As you get settled, it all feels surprisingly easy. 

You make each other laugh. You offer your insane spread of snacks, and he settles next to you on your sofa before the episode starts. He appreciates all of your commentary and banters with you over your strongest opinions. It feels surprisingly natural to be spending time together like this. Without an espresso machine between you. 

You’re taken with his presence. He balances you. Even when he debates your controversial takes and unpopular opinions, he doesn’t get worked up like you. 

His calm demeanor is grounding. His nearness and steadiness relaxes you.  

The stress let down makes your head feel heavy, and without thinking, you rest your temple against Frankie’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It feels comforting until you realize how forward you’re being and snap your head back up. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, scooting away. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, voice soft and low. 

He’s staring at you so intently. You feel the heat in your face, embarrassed at acting so comfortable with him and self-conscious under his gaze. You still don’t really know what he wants. And you don’t want to fuck anything up. But he doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, you swear his eyes drop to your mouth before they flick back up. 

“More than okay,” he adds, and your stomach flips at his honesty. “Here,” he shifts and invites you to scoot under his arm. You get comfortable, resting your head on his chest. 

You try to watch the TV, but you can feel Frankie watching you. It makes you restless and unable to think clearly. You peer up at him. It’s a charged look; maybe it was already obvious, but you hadn’t felt confident enough to put the pieces together until now. 

“What?” You whisper, unable to fight the smile pulling at your mouth. 

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs. 

Uh oh. Your breath hitches, and something in you cracks. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you try to hide it, whispering thanks into his chest and looking down. 

“Hey,” he tilts your chin to look up at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to will away the emotions that bubble up inside of you. “That’s really sweet of you.” You steady your breathing, slower and deeper. What is wrong with you? You expected something flirty. You didn’t expect something so.. heartfelt?

The more you slow your breathing, the more it feels like you’re inhaling the essence of Frankie. Whatever combination of laundry detergent, deodorant, body wash, whatever it is is all combined it’s soothing. Nice. It calms you. 

But why? How does just breathing against him make you feel safe? 

You can’t even think about safety. You can’t count on anyone else. What if he leaves out of nowhere, too? Your thoughts pick up, racing. Falling deeper into your anxieties. You aren’t even on a date; you shouldn’t be worried about this guy abandoning you. 

Your fears eat at you, worsening your fragile state. Your body shakes gently as you try to breathe through the anxiety. 

Frankie runs his hand along your back. He’s so warm, solid, and strong. 

You feel like you must seem insane, which makes your emotional flooding worse. He just keeps murmuring at you about how you’re okay, and he pulls you into his arms to give you a firm hug, regulating you. Fixing you. 

When you lean back to apologize for crying on him, he shakes his head in disagreement. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says it like he means it, like he won’t be taking questions or arguments. You sniffle as you do your best to accept that. “You still look beautiful,” he says, pulling you back towards him. 

It’s everything you didn’t know you needed to hear. Your face nestles against his neck. Delirious with your state of mind and his flattery and reassurance. You can’t stop yourself from kissing his neck. The exact spot you’ve been so distracted by on so many mornings. His skin is soft and warm; you can taste your tears, wet and salty on your lips. You do it again before you freeze. What are you doing? 

Frankie’s hand slips up the back of your neck, cradling your head in his warm palm. It feels like encouragement. You test your theory, pressing another gentle kiss to his jaw where his scruffy beard tickles your nose. 

The TV might still be on, but all you can hear is your breathing and his. The sound of your lips against his skin. And the low-pitched noise in Frankie’s throat that urges you on. Provoking a needful fire within you. Intense and frantic. You nip at his ear before stamping open-mouthed kisses back down his neck, pulling back only to breathe hot and humid against his skin. 

You hesitate, a frenzied desire has you wanting to straddle his lap and take more and more, but something makes you pause. Frankie knows. He feels your weight shifting and makes the move for you, pulling you onto his lap. 

“I know,” he says as his large hands wrap around both sides of your jaw. “Keep going.” The encouragement pours over you like warm honey. Face to face, you wrap your arms around his neck. The last thread of your doubt snaps and you close the gap. Pressing your lips together. Softly for a second, before your mouths are parting and your tongues and teeth work fervently to express your desire. 

Then it becomes a desperate blur, your fingers curling into his hair, tugging until he’s groaning into your mouth. His hands slipping under your shirt, hot against your skin, snaking back down to knead the curve of your ass while you roll your hips, grinding into his lap in search of friction. 

You feel him hardening beneath you and a molten hot thrill radiates between your legs. There’s a raw quality to your movements as you bite at his lip, scratch at his shoulders, and whine with a frustrated edge. 

You’re taking out all your emotional distress on him. Or, rather, you’re begging him to erase it all, to bite back harder, to use force, to dominate. You keep trying to use your body instead of words. Just teeth, nails, and needy writhing. Anything sharp, forceful, rough. An offering. 

Tears still roll down your cheeks, hot with anger, anguish, and everything you can’t name. You aren’t interested in exploring your emotions. You need something more visceral. 

You sit back, hands shooting towards Frankie’s belt, chasing more, when he stops you in your tracks. His hand possessively grips below your jaw, forcing you to look at him. 

Your cunt throbs at the look on his face. The soft, gentle Frankie is gone. His face is hard and dangerous as he studies you. For some reason that makes you want him even more. 

His fingers dig into your cheek eliciting a sharp inhale from you, parting your lips into a small “o” shape, before he releases you. You know you’re a mess. Teary, panting, wild-eyed–but his lips curl into sinful grin. Reflexively you tilt your pelvis, drawing the heat of your core along the ridge of his erection. Your eyes flutter shut, as you aim to forget yourself and focus on the sensation. 

But his chest shakes, jostling you in his lap, with his rumbly, dark chuckle. It’s condescending, startling you and stilling your hips. You blink at Frankie. The charged air is thick. The rest of the room has faded. Your brows furrow as you wonder, but your thighs tense. 

“Keep going.” 

It’s a demand this time, not an affirmation or encourager. His sinister smirk is gone, replaced by a frighteningly blank stare. His carnivorous eyes drop, watching your fingers as you work open his belt and jeans. 

Shit. You can tell he’s big as you trace your fingers along his cock, over his boxers, savoring the heat in your palm. The damp fabric at the tip pleases you, and you peel the waistband down to reveal the glorious vision that has you wetting your lips. 

“Shit,” you repeat out loud this time. A primal, hungry need possesses you as you admire his cock. The glistening head, thick shaft, and dark patch of curls at the base. Just the sight of him is intoxicatingly masculine and dominant. 

You need him in your mouth. 

You slink off his lap, sinking to your knees between his legs. Excitement flutters in your pussy and you feel like you’ve fallen into a into a trance. Your body moves faster than your mind, tugging at his jeans as he repositions at the edge of the couch. 

“I know,” he mutters under his breath as you wrap your hand around the smooth skin. “I know what you need,” he continues. You can only hum in response. Preoccupied by the slip of your thumb dragging a trail of precome down along the underside of his cock. 

He cups the back of your head, urging you towards his tip with a commanding open growled down at you. You want to pout for not getting the chance to tease and savor the moment, but you don’t have the time when he slides past your lips and hits the back of your throat. 

You choke, sputtering around him and pulling back. His hand encourages you to try again and you’re eager to take it like he gives it. Refocusing on controlling your breath, you look up to see the fierceness in his eyes on his otherwise blank face. A confusing mix of warning and excitement stirs in your core, making you squirm on your knees. 

The discomfort makes something flicker across his face. 

You try again, determined, like you’ve got something to prove. You pull his other hand to your cheek. Please lead. You catch the start of a smirk on his face before he’s guiding you once again. It makes your mind blank; all you can do is breathe and focus on relaxing your muscles. It’s a welcome release from the stress. Grounding you in the present. You can only think as fast as he can glide along your tongue. 

As you build a rhythm, he verges on brutal, but when you’re rewarded with the delicious sound of Frankie groaning because of you the intensity means nothing. Your eyes water as you refuse to gag out of sheer willpower. His thumb smears your tears across your cheekbone, and he pulls you off of his cock.

He takes in your swollen lips, ragged breathing, and wet lashes like he’s committing the details to memory as you catch your breath, before he’s tapping at your cheek. You open wide for him and he rests the head of his cock on your tongue, shallowly tipping you back and forth. 

Your jaw could be aching or your knees may be digging into the rug, but it doesn’t matter to you. It’s much easier to meditate on the weight of his length slipping along your wet tongue. Centering yourself on that thought, your eyes flutter shut. 

You wonder if this side of Frankie has always been lurking beneath the surface. Chillingly collected, but with something viscous bleeding into the edges. You wonder if maybe you’ve called to this part of him with the mayhem of your state of mind. 

“Yeah,” Frankie rasps in his gravelly tone causing you to blink back up at him. You wonder if he can read your mind; if he was answering you. The hint of a smile remains on the corner of his lips when you look up, “Making you feel better already.” He’s presumptive but accurate. 

You give a muffled affirmation that vibrates in your throat as he slides past your lips and you take him deep as he can be. All your senses are filled with Frankie when you inhale, when you swallow, when you blink. You give, pliant for him, trusting him with the control. You don’t worry about how obscene you might look with tears rolling down your cheeks. You just want to hear what other sounds he might make for you. His thumb drags over your cheek again, wiping away the wet streaks. 

“This is the only reason you ever cry for me.” Frankie’s voice is dripping with affection. And possession. 

It makes everything foggy. The sentiment, the delivery, the authority. He doesn’t let you dwell on the unspoken commitment in his statement. Doesn’t give you the time to question him or spiral inward. 

Your head swims until he pulls you up, strips you, and settles you back onto his lap. Some action movie autoplayed after your episode ended. The crashing and explosions of the chase scene in the background don’t ruin the moment, in a twisted way it’s almost a fitting soundtrack for the two of you. 

Frankie allows you to pull his shirt up, over his head, and time slows. The warmth radiating between your bodies is nothing compared to the searing heat of Frankie’s gaze. It’s dizzying, between his torrid expression and his grip on your hips as he guides you closer. 

You go entirely mindless when the head of his cock nudges your clit, gasping as he slips along your wet seam. It brings everything into focus for you, and you reach between your bodies to guide him directly to your deplorably empty cunt. 

“Oh, fuck,” your word turns to a groan as he breaches your entrance, and you tense at the stretch, holding still. 

“Keep going,” he orders lowly, and you inch down until he impatiently takes control, slamming you down until you meet his hips. Your mouth hangs open at his move and the immediate fullness. His hardened look softens as your walls ripple and flex, adjusting to his size. 

At least until you start moving, grinding against him, slowly at first. Then the sharp sternness returns. You’re unaware, chasing the friction as your clit rubs against the dark hair surrounding the base of his cock. 

“Knew you’d be perfect,” he says it more like an I told you so to himself than praise for you, but the words affect you just the same. Your chest rises, swelling with pride, and you chase his approval instead of your pleasure. 

You ride him until your thighs burn. His hands are everywhere. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, squeezing all of your soft curves, spreading your legs wider to watch where he disappears inside of you. You bounce eagerly for him, spine arching to draw his eyes to the way your tits ripple from the force of your body colliding into his. 

You whine in disapproval when he interrupts you, pulling you flush against his chest, grazing his teeth along your neck. “Give it to me,” Frankie demands, his voice rough and raw, breath hot along your sweat-damp skin. 

He runs his hand down your body, thumb circling your clit, adding the pressure you need. You edge closer and closer, body taut with anticipation. “Come for me,” he commands. It’s the authority and his gravelly voice rolling through you that launches you into a shuddering release. 

Frankie continues talking while you’re disoriented by the overwhelming pleasure. “For me,” he grunts through clenched teeth as your pussy contracts around him. “I know that’s what you need.” You can only moan as you cling to his broad shoulders. “Only me.” 

You figure he’s just rambling until he grabs you by the jaw again, demanding you respond. Demanding you repeat it for him. And you do. With glassy eyes and you mutter his words back to him. Declaring you only come for him. That you need him. 

Your words unlock something within Frankie. “Good,” he approves. “Good girl.” He praises you gruffly as he holds you steady, pounding into you with an untamed strength. You’re floating, starry-eyed and softheaded at his praise. Murmuring sentence fragments and his name, conjuring throaty grunts from Frankie until he stills, coming deep inside of you. “Only me,” he echoes and you confirm. 

“Only you.” 

In your unguarded state, it’s a welcome commitment. Maybe you haven’t had any real dates yet, but he knows you. He wants you. He tells you he wants to take care of you, and that feels fucking good. 

You collapse against his chest, matching his breathing. The movie playing behind you reaches a tragic twist, setting the third act in motion and solidifying the protagonists dark path. You run your tongue along the column of Frankie’s throat as the score of the film hangs unresolved on a dissonant chord. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you possessively and captivating you. 

Your bodies flow, connected and attuned. In his lap, in his arms, with his tongue slipping between your lips, you feel wanted. Assured. Content to accept that he knows what you need. 

And he’s unrelenting. Determined to prove it to you. Again and again. 

All night. On the couch, in the shower, in your bed. 

Until the night bleeds into the morning and he doesn’t disappear. 

You take turns waking and watching one another sleep. Verifying he’s real. Watching your chest rise and fall before drifting off again. Until the sun heats your room and you wake again to find yourself curled into his broad frame. His chest to your back as he draws his fingers down your along the dip and swell of your waist and hip. 

“Did you mean it?” you ask, in a strikingly solemn tone for the soft setting. Breath shallow as you stare off toward the window. Not ready to turn and face him in the daylight. 

“Every word.” He punctuates his affirmation with a tender kiss behind your ear. His reassurance satisfies you; warmth blooms from your chest spreading to your fingers and toes. 

You spend a lazy Sunday together. Eating, laughing, fucking, and gazing at each other like lovesick teenagers. It’s too sweet to end. Instead, you become inseparable, taking turns staying at each other’s places until you have to go back. 

The world feels bright again. Lighter. 

He had paid such close attention as you got to know each other. He’s almost suspiciously perfect. Picking up your favorite takeout meals, putting on your favorite movies, and keeping your flowers fresh as the weeks pass. 

You feel like you can never get enough of him somehow. You think about him all day at work, even though he still visits you every morning like clockwork. Your heart swells when he meets you at the end of your shift to walk you home. 

You find yourself canceling your happy hour dates with friends to stay in with Frankie instead. Postponing and rescheduling, you’ll see them soon. It’s like there aren’t enough minutes in the day to get your fill of Frankie. 

You’re insatiable, always needing him in your mouth, between your legs, fucking you through the mattress, on the counter, any surface you can find. You’re never too much. He’s equally infatuated with you, a mutual obsession. Fulfilling your darker desires and unleashing fantasies you’ve never felt safe enough to explore. He’s greedy and hungry for you. Making you feel wanted and desired. 

With your head in the clouds, all you can see is how much he cares about you. He texts you whenever you’re apart, picks you up after your shifts, shows you off to his friends. 

You barely have to do anything for yourself. He’s always thinking of you, predicting your needs before know them yourself. He picks up your mail for you, runs errands before you get home, and stocks his apartment with all of the products you use and love so you don’t have to go home for days at a time. 

Things are so good that it’s rare when something goes wrong. 

But when it does, it really fucking hurts. 

When you get into an argument, a real one, he doesn’t fight with you. He leaves, swiftly and without another word. He doesn’t respond to your texts or calls. It feels like you’ve been torn in half; you sob and shake alone in your bed until your alarm blares and your headache throbs. 

He doesn’t respond the following day, doesn’t come in for coffee, and doesn’t show any signs of existing. You move through your shift like a hollow corpse haunting the cafe. Time drags agonizingly slowly. 

Every time the door opens your eyes snap towards the entrance, hoping to see the familiar curls and broad shoulders, but it’s not him. You restart your phone just on the odd chance there’s something wrong with it. He wouldn’t abandon you. He knows that would destroy you. 

The void in your chest is cold and dark. Anger simmers somewhere inside of it, but it’s not strong enough to set you off. When Frankie shows up at the end of your shift, the anger is snuffed out completely. His presence immediately reverses your heartbreak, and suddenly you’re apologizing to him before he gets a word out. 

You have to. He has to know you wouldn’t do anything to make him leave. He can’t. He’s calm, accepting your apology and taking you home where he erases your pain. With his hands, and mouth, and cock. Until you forget what the argument was ever about, and what it felt like to watch him walk away. Until it’s back to normal. 

Every day you rely on him more and more; you can’t breathe without him. But when he’s with you, everything feels easy. Right. 

Not many things can throw the two of you off. Your friends seem happy enough for you, despite their questions and insistence that you come out with them more often. You get along well with Frankie’s friends. They’re quick witted and welcome you genuinely. 

They treat you like family, but it doesn’t stop Frankie’s jealousy from flaring up. If Benny smiles at you for too long or if you rest a hand on Will’s bicep when you laugh it only takes minutes before Frankie’s fingers dig into your arm and he whisks you away. 

It gives you a perverse thrill every time. 

When he folds you over the bathroom counter at his friend’s house. Demanding you watch in the mirror as he reminds you with a fierce snarl and devastating thrusts that you’re his. When you can still hear his friends horseing around outside, but he pounds into you with such force, you can’t quiet yourself. He slaps a hand around your mouth to silence you, growling into your ear that you’ll take it quietly, like a good girl. 

Sometimes you aren’t even sure what triggers him. 

Like when he fucks you against the side of his SUV in the parking lot of the trendy bar Benny had invited you both to. All you can piece together is Frankie muttering something about your dress as he yanks the top of it down letting your tits spill into the cool night air. He’s reckless and animalistic, claiming you roughly under the stars and streetlights before you can even get into the car let alone through your front door.

…..

Tonight, you both know exactly what got under his skin. Maybe not the why of it all, but he’s sure you know how he feels, and he wants to hear you say it. 

It started this afternoon. He picked you up from work, like usual, and you chatted in the car as he drove to the grocery store. You sighed, tiredly as you recounted an exchange with a rude customer, but when Frankie pulled your hand towards his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the delicate skin on your inner wrist. 

Predictably, it brightened your features. Knowing your buttons doesn’t dull the intoxicating effect you have on him, though. He loves the way you light up so easily for him and it serves to deepen his conviction time and time again. Like a constant affirmation that he is where he is supposed to be. That everything he does for is exactly what he should be doing. Exactly what you need. 

He was still ruminating on this as you led him through the aisles of the grocery store. Unbothered that you had to double back to the produce section after forgetting some fresh herb you determined was crucial to the dish you planned out. You dashed around the corner in front of him, with a giggle when Frankie’s heart stilled. 

He didn’t have time to distract you. Your laughter cut off immediately. 

“What the fuck?” you muttered and Frankie grabbed your hand. 

Joel’s pace quickened as he brushed past you. Your head turned, calling his name once, but Joel carried on as if you didn’t exist. Frankie studied your face, emotions flooded your expression as you watched Joel walking away. Something darker flickered across them. 

Frankie followed your line of sight. Flowers. Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

You apologized to Frankie. Clearly thrown off, but determined not to let it get to you or to Frankie. 

“I didn’t know he even lived here still,” you remarked. 

He doesn’t. The possessive fire burned through Frankie’s veins. “We’re going,” he commanded in a low tone that made your eyes flare wide. 

“What?”

“Now.”

“We can’t leave everything.” 

“They won’t arrest us.” He argued, as he all but carried you out the door, ushering you in a blur to his car and all the way home. Frankie moved swiftly and silently. Wholly consumed by the need to feel you writhing underneath him and crying out his name. He needed it so viscerally, he didn’t even have time to process how he was going to deal with Joel. 

Until you’re breathless and shuddering beneath him. Repeating everything he wants to hear. 

“Only for you,” you repeat as you rake your nails down his shoulder blades and the plane of his back. 

“Again,” he demands. You don’t know if he wants you to keep talking or to come again, but both are inevitable at this point. 

“I’m yours,” you pant, wrapping your legs around him as if you could pull him any deeper inside of you. He shifts slightly, angling your hips and your cunt clenches around him pulling him devastatingly close to the edge as you moan his name. 

He stills and you whine in protest as Frankie stretches past you to pick his phone up off the bedside table. “Keep going,” he orders as he points the lens at you. He needs you to say it again. He adjusts to resume his pace, snapping his hips into causing your lips to part with another moan. 

“I’m yours,” you repeat, “all yours.” He gives you a dark smile as he records you. Capturing all the lewd, wet sounds as he drives his cock into you, the euphoric smile that spreads on your face, and the words you know he always wants to hear. 

“Mine,” he agrees. 

……

You don’t see Joel again. And you don’t have time to dwell on the encounter anyway. Frankie keeps you busy and satisfied, and even surprises you by asking you to move in with him officially. Maybe it feels soon, but you spend nearly every day together anyway and the idea delights you. 

It’s an easy transition. You downsize some of your duplicate appliances, joking with him about how he must have great taste for having so many of the same products. He admits that you inspired a few of his purchases. 

You settle into a routine quickly, not much changes. 

Sometimes in the early morning, when you slip out of bed in the dark to get ready for your shift, you wonder if it’s all real. If someone can care about you as deeply as you care about them. But by the time you’re showered and dressed, he greets you with a sleepy kiss before pulling on his usual workout attire and driving you to work. 

You let your gaze linger this morning. Trailing along his profile as he drives, admiring all the details that you used to wonder about from the other side of the counter. His neck, those arms, his hands, those lips. They’re illuminated in flashes as you pass under the streetlights. 

You catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He always knows when you’re looking. He rests a hand just above your knee. He always knows what you need. And idea takes root in your mind, and you do everything to stop yourself from smiling and giving yourself away. It’ll take a few days to organize. He’s almost impossible to surprise. 

……

Later in the week, Frankie is on autopilot. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweaty shirt over his head before he lopes towards the ensuite for a shower. He only makes it a few strides before he’s on edge, noticing the lights he didn’t remember leaving on. He hears your voice. Relief and confusion twist together in his chest. How did you get back here before him? 

Walking into the bedroom you are a sexy surprise wrapped in red lingerie he’s never seen you wear before, but something is wrong. Your shoulders are curled inward, your cheeks are wet, and you’re hastily tying up your matching red satin robe. 

He scans the room, swallowing thickly when he notices the open coset door and the missing box on the shelf. 

He calls your name softly. 

“What is this, Frankie?” your voice shakes. Unsteady and wavering between fear and anger. 

You hold up his phone. Well, his other phone. Shit. 

…..

“Answer me,” you beg. Desperate for an explanation. For something to make sense. To understand how you went looking for the box with fuzzy handcuffs and instead found a phone with a new message from a number you still recognized. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and when he takes you into his arms you flinch. You want to shove him off of you. Despite your hostility, your body is still drawn to his. He always knows what you need. In his arms your heart feels tethered to his, like they could merge through the proximity of your rib cages. Like they beat for each other. 

“You trust me, right?” he asks. 

“Explain, please,” is all you can whisper. 

“It was to keep you safe,” he starts. 

“From what?” 

“To protect you. Joel wasn’t good for you. He couldn’t take care of you. Not the way you deserve.” 

“How would you know?” it’s still not making sense to you. 

“You told me.” He’s so self-assured. Like, he’s always right. Like, he can’t even imagine why you’d be upset right now. “I did it for you,” he adds. 

“Did what?” you need him to say it out loud. You need him to fix this. 

“I know you thought Joel was trying, but he was only going to drag it out. Disappoint you over and over. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like for me to watch you go through that?” 

You don’t answer. 

“I couldn’t watch. I made him an offer, but he’s a stubborn man.” 

You snort quietly at that understatement. Nobody tells Joel what to do. 

“I just had to find the right leverage.” 

Frankie holds you so tight, you can’t wriggle around to look him in the eyes. 

“He couldn’t give you what you need, not like I can. I know what you need. And, think of how fast you got over him anyway. You were mine all along.” 

You’re lightheaded. From the shock of finding the evidence. From his words. From the way you believe him. You want to sit down. You tap at his arms insistently, begging against his chest, but he keeps talking. His deep voice rumbling in your ears. 

“You wouldn’t have understood it then. I had to keep it from you to protect you. So we could have what we have now.” He’s not listening to you. Not letting you go. It makes you snap. 

“Let go of me!” 

“You have to understand first.” 

“I’ll listen,” you plead. “Just let me breathe.” He lets you step back, but doesn’t release you from his grip. His hands are glued to your arms. He waits, steady and chillingly calm.

Slowly, the pieces start to fall into place. The unanswered questions from your breakup. The way Joel completely vanished. 

“I thought he just left,” you whisper to yourself. 

“He did,” Frankie argues. 

“I thought he didn’t want me,” you continue. 

“He didn’t. Not the way that I want you.” 

Something cold trickles down your spine and you look at Frankie. For a moment he’s a complete stranger. Your stomach sinks and your vision spins. Slamming your eyes shut you filter through your racing thoughts. 

It wasn’t fate that led you into Frankie’s arms. 

You wound up crying on his cock by design, trying to fuck away the pain of a heartbreak that wasn’t even real. You’ve fallen into a whole new life, while the man you had loved may have never stopped loving you back? 

“You blackmailed Joel Miller?” 

“Technically, it’s extortion.” 

It’s all there on the surface. Exposed between the two of you. Who Frankie really is. Cunning and competent. Devoted and dangerous. Possessive and powerful. 

“It worked, until he came to town for someone’s engagement party.” 

“When we saw him at the store?” Frankie nods. “And then you sent him the video we made.” 

“Hearing it from you seemed to do the trick. He knows you’re mine and you only want me.” 

Frankie gives you time to study him. Absorbing the information. The gleam in his dark eyes. The same eyes from when he would visit you at work. Just as fierce and just as earnest. 

You’ve always known him for his true self. He’s been yours since he first laid eyes on you. And he knew you needed him. 

“And you did it… for us.” 

“For you.” 

You can see it plainly on his face. He’d do it again and again to have you. Because you’re his. It’s all you ever wanted. It has to be wrong, but it’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done for you. 

You push him back towards the bed, climbing onto his lap in a recreation of the first night you spent together. It’s reflexive. The magnetic pull between you has your hips rolling in his lap as he’s already hardening beneath you. 

“You’re sick,” you tell him before you lick a hot stripe up his neck. 

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he growls back before you’re crashing into him with a ravenous kiss.  

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40 tags for folks who seemed interested when i shared a lil wip about it (aka no worries tags)

@hoelaris @punkseyes @ace-turned-confused @magneticecstasy @lotusbxtch

@bitchesuntitled

@baronessvonglitter

@thundermartini @milla-frenchy

[sleepiedahlia]

HIS TAIL

FEATURING: LEVIATHAN,SATAN,BELPHIE,BARBATOS

TW: both smut and fluff but mostly fluff! tell me if i missed anything!

HIS WINGS|HIS TAIL ( YOU ARE HERE)

LEVIATHAN

-surprisingly his tail has a lot more scales then the rest of his body but he sheds every few months to make sure his scales are healthy and I also think he might be able to grow it back..?

-but his tail is very long and smooth scales so when you touch it your hand glides over his tail with ease

-he doesn’t use his tail as a defense mechanism as much as satan does because 1. He doses leave his room and 2.he’s really not a fighter,but if he did use his tail for defense he’ll hind of lift up his tail and wave it around slightly as warning but if someone doesn’t listen he will smack the living hell out of the with his tail

-his most sensitive sensitive area is the base of his tail even though his whole tail is sensitive but if you Touch by the base of his tail he shakes a little bit but he does like it! But during cuddling he wraps his tail around your waist or leg and the Same goes for in bed but he’ll be slightly more tight and he definitely uses it to help you out when you need it ;)

SATAN

-for Satan showing his tail to you when he is not angry is a sign of love deeper then anyone could imagine

-but his tail has very rough scales so it does make it harder to Touch because it’s also kinda spiky as well

-when he gets angry his tail becomes a weapon and it hurts when it Hits you smack dab in the fase…yeah that will leave…a few marks,when he tries to warn someone on the rare occasion if he doesn’t already try to kill them the first time they did something his tail wraps around his leg tightly almost enough to go through his skin and most of time he tries to use it to kill lucifer

-his Most sensitive are is the tip of his tail and when you touch it he’ll pull away pretty quickly but once he realizes you mean no harm to him he’ll let you touch it as much of you want!

-he does like to have it wrapped around you a lot and especially when you two read together but only in private because he wouldn’t have it out in public ever only if he was about to make someone have a 504 error and never be seen again

BELPHIE

-belphie has a cow like tail but it's not soft though it's more rough then it looks but it doesn’t stop him from sleeping with it

-he mostly uses it to keep you as his cuddle buddy for longer then you wanted but that’s actually how he first showed it you, he had his tail wrapped around your waist

-but after he realized he was doing that it was too late and he did that every time you cuddled or slept with him:)

-defense wise he doesn’t use it all but if he did he would also try to use to kill Lucifer and put him six feet under or someone took his pillow and he wants revenge which also might end in a 504 error…just don’t cross him…

-his most sensitive place is the tip of his tail before it goes into a big fluff ball,if you do touch there he’ll just wrap his tail around your hand tightly and that all that really happens but if it where someone else beware he might strangle them to death

-in bed I think he would just use it to hold you down and he would definitely use the fluff part of his tail to mess with your nipples a little bit or your clit

BARBATOS

-barbatos tail has a slight slimy feeling to it and has more of a sea serpent shape to his tail like levi

-but he uses his tail like another arm he can use it for anything and since he has and extra part to his tail he could definitely hold you down and grab else at the same time

-the only time he’d ever use his tail is when someone tried to do something to the prince,I swear with his tail he could take like 4 demons out at the same time and he also has good tail reflex’s so he can tell when something’s near him and if something’s thrown at him he can smack it away or grab it with his tail but he could also probably use his tail like a spear also

-honestly I don’t think he has any sensitive spots but if I had to chose a specific place it would be the extra part on his tail and if someone or you were to touch it he will just ask you to stop but if it’s you he won’t say anything and just let’s you touch it

-in bed he could possibly use the second part on his tail to stimulate you while he’s fucking you into the mattress but if your into gagging he would probably use his tail as a gag for you if you wanted:)

@SLEEPIEDAHLIA

- PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK! BUT PLEASE ADD CREDIT IF YOU USED MINE AS A REFERENCE FOR A POST! PLEASE AND THANK YOU! -

[darth-jess]

Anidala rant

Alright I really don't understand people saying that Anakin didn't actually love Padmé, he was just obsessive and then used her as an excuse to get more power.

First off, love in general is just a tad bit obsessive okay? I'm a bit obsessed with my husband, I love him, he's amazing. You have to be a little obsessive to have the courage to bear your heart and soul to someone who you are absolutely NOT supposed to be with. Also, can we talk about the fact that after Padmé "rejected" him he totally backed down? I mean he still loved her, but he wasn't going to push it anymore until she admitted that she loved him too.

Also…ANAKIN LITERALLY SACRIFICES HIS SOUL because he can't bear the thought of living without her. If it isn't clear enough in the movies (it is crystal clear) then the Revenge of the Sith novelization makes it even more so. He is genuinely horrified when he discovers that his friend, the Chancellor has been a Sith Lord this whole time, and multiple times he wishes Obi-wan was there with him because Anakin is so confused and has no idea what to do. And the ONLY reason he goes back to "save" Palpatine is because he can't let Palpatine die without learning how to save Padmé.

EVEN WHEN MACE IS FIGHTING PALPATINE Anakin wants Palpatine to BE ARRESTED. The only time Anakin moves against Mace Windu is when Mace is about to kill Palpatine, who has convinced Anakin that he is the only one who has the knowledge to save Padmé.

His turning to the Dark Side has nothing to do with power, and solely to do with wanting to save his wife from certain death. Dude was literally about to leave the Jedi Order, and he honestly didn't care anymore about being granted the rank of Master. The only reason he NEEDED the rank so badly is because he wanted to look up stuff in the Jedi archives ways he could possibly save Padmé, but only Jedi Masters were able to access some of these files. Add in the fact that his nightmares had made it impossible for him to sleep for literal days (weeks?) before the battle in the Chancellor's office.

Even when he's choking her on Mustafar, it's not because he never loved her, it's because he is in so much pain. All he sees is that the woman he loves most in the world, the woman he has sacrificed everything for and destroyed his soul for, WANTS HIM DEAD. Which of course isn't true, but why else would she have brought Obi-wan with her? He chokes her because every one of her words is a dagger, he feels betrayed and he can't listen to it anymore or he'll shatter. –This is not an excuse for any kind of abuse, but you have to understand the emotional turmoil he is going through. This is also not an argument that what he did was RIGHT in any way after turning to the Dark Side, but you do have to see how his actions (to him, at least) make perfect sense and that NONE of his actions hint at the fact that he either didn't love her or stopped loving her. He loved her even as Vader, he loved her forever.

Anyway, sorry, I've been reading the ROTS novelization and I'm almost done with it and I'm sad and emotional.

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

Headcanons for all 4 TMNT:

• they all love kids but they collectively agree that babies aged 0-2 are the best

• can any of them handle spice? absolutely not. does it stop them? no.

• the only thing can all collectively agree on without much arguing is music

• all are surprisingly pretty good dancers

• they have all said "suck my dick" at some point (raph uses it the most)

• they all manspread

• nothing triggers any of them more than a spider

-raph won't go anywhere near the spider and refuses to be in the same room with it

-mikey's okay with the spider but doesn't want it touching him

-donnie will move the spider without killing it but won't touch the web

-leo will touch the spider to take it outside but the feeling freaks him out

• don't say the words "i bet you won't" cause boom there they all go

• at some point they have all referred to april as mom just to piss her off

• they all agree smores poptarts are superior

• they play with april's hair if she's sitting in front of them on the ground

• shark week is a whole thing

• thanksgiving and christmas are the turtle's favorite times of year

• they will all devour the deviled eggs and cranberry sauce

• mikey and raph will shamelessly walk in the bathroom when their brothers are showering

• leo and donnie are very guilty of leaving cupboards open in the middle of the night

• raph and leo have similar facial expressions when shit hits the fan

• mikey and donnie freak out if wet food touches them when they do the dishes

• leo and mikey both really like dr phil

• donnie and raph can't stand the taste of bananas

• do any of them truly enjoy horror? no. do they suffer through the movie anyway? yes.

• april has sat on their laps when there's been no seats

-leo is the most calm and just settles his hands where she directs

-raph is a bit more timid and keeps one hand on her waist

-donnie tries to keep his hands off her because he's awkward

-mikey just wraps his arms around her like it's a normal thing

• splinter still tells the boys stories when they can't sleep after a tough patrol

• splinter also checks on the boys every night when they go to bed

• the guys can all shotgun like it's no ones business

• they're all very protective of april and casey's child(ren)

-one time one of the kids came home crying saying another kid pushed them down and all 4 of them were fully prepared to go to war

-if the kid is taking a guy to homecoming or prom, the dude gets threatening texts and blocked phone calls

• when april and casey's child(ren) was born, all the guys cried

-leo very reluctantly let someone else have a turn holding the child(ren)

-raph has made the child(ren) a blanket as a gift when they're born

-donnie handles all the medical care for the child(ren) and april during and after birth

-mikey decorated the child(ren)'s nursery and baby shower(s)

• april gets random texts to settle dumb arguments between the brothers

• they all love adele

• they all sing in the shower

• don't bring nerf guns into the lair for the sake of splinter's sanity

• vine references are frequently thrown around the lair

• they've all watched 90 day fiancé and they all hate ed

• mikey is the only one who can get any of his brothers to cry from laughing

• leo may suck at comforting his brothers but they all seek him out for comfort anyway

• donnie's sleep schedule is the worst so when he falls asleep in his lab his brothers have each carried him to bed

• raph can't sleep properly unless he knows that his brothers are close by and he's seen them go to bed

• splinter will still sometimes tuck the boys into bed if he knows they've had a rough time

• all of them have cussed out casey and vern for saying the wrong thing about a brother

• they all hardly swear around april

• splinter has banned legos in the lair because the boys were using them as revenge against each other

[gilverrwrites]

for the continuation of tim's revenge for what pervy dick did 👀

did he manage to get revenge

AN: God they're messy. Warnings: Manipulation, voyeurism but not really, dubious consent, (barely) rough sex. ━ [Part 1] ━ [Part 2] ━ Bonus parts: [X] [X]

He stews on the situation for a while. He’s not mad at you for sleeping with someone else, you’re not an item after all. He’s also not really mad at you for sleeping with his brother, of all people. He also isn’t even really mad that you hid it from him even though he has every right to be pissed.

But there’s still something boiling deep in his psyche, making him bitter and keeping him on edge. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Never in a million years would he admit it, but he's hyper-aware now and scathing every time you grin at your phone, or when Dick's hand linger on your curves just a second too long to be considered friendly. You’re too tied up in each other to notice Tim’s eyes burning into your souls.

You're oblivious to his glare when Dick whispers in your ear, as you let his older brother guide you out into the hall, and he’d bet you're clueless to the way Dick holds back just long enough to look back at him, blue eyes filled with an irking level of smug triumph, before following close behind you.

He knows he’s only torturing himself by trailing the two of you, but it beats sitting around trying not to imagine whatever’s going on.

He doesn’t want to look, so he presses his ear to the door just in time to hear you quietly lament “I don’t know, Dick. Are you sure?”

Dick's voice is so low and soothing that its barely audible but Tim clocks it clear as day, the use of his name. “Yes baby, I told you to trust me, didn’t I? Tim will love this, once you’ve learned how to take it right.”

The thought that he’d been wrong, that Dick was actually teaching you something sweet and totally innocent to surprise him crosses his mind, and for a second he feels bad for assuming the worst but moments later the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin and the echo of your muffled voices moaning each other's names quickly puts an end to that line of thought.

Finally, he’s angry. He has half a mind to boot the door in and put a stop to whatever manipulation Dick is pulling on you, but he knows things will get ugly fast.

The question of what ‘this’ is that he’ll love so much also dangles in the back of his mind, but there’s no way in hell he’s opening that door for a peek, this isn’t how he wants to see you undressed for the first time and if he catches a glimpse of anything Dick has going on he might have to put bat-bleach in his eyes.

No, he doesn’t open the door, but he decides then and there to close the deal the next time he has you to himself.

He’s not sure how he’ll react if you reject him, but fortunately, neither of you has to find out. After all this time, all the wondering, all the nerves, he’s surprised by how easy it is to get close to you. It’s like magic; once he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, pressing his lips to yours, you just melt right into him like you were always meant to be there, melded to each other.

Your kisses are hungry, and urgent but you touch him so tentatively, and you hesitate when his hands snake under your shirt for the first time. He breaks away from kissing your throat to look into your guilt-glazed eyes. Whatever moral debate is going on in your head is long forgotten however when he starts grinding his cock against you.

The sex is total bliss, you’re everything he’d dreamed of and more; tits shaking in time with his thrusts, pussy hot and wet, taking it so damn well, and your eyes, half-lidded but glued to his every move. So totally perfect, everything he’d been envisioning. He’d completely lost sight of everything else until he catches your expression shift.

You speak so quietly, so unsure, looking up at him with hopeful eyes as you tell him something that he doesn’t quite catch between your softness and his euphoria.  

“What?”

“I said you can be rough with me. If you want.”

It takes a second for your words, their implication to click inside his brain but then he remembers.

Before you can object he grabs your wrists, deliberately hard enough to bruise, pinning them to the bed as he pressed his chest against yours, stopping his thrust once he's buried balls deep inside you. He ignores how you whine at the pain in your arms, how you desperately buck your hips to try and coax him into fucking you again.

“If I want?”

You nod frantically, without hesitation. “Anything you want.”

The bawdy look on your face quickly fades to confusion, body falling completely still as he starts to laugh at you. Man, what he would have given to hear you say those words just weeks ago.

“Did Dick tell you I like it rough?” He asks, and your eyes grow wide and panicked. “What else did he tell you I was into?”

“Tim- I- Wait- It-” You choke on your words when he starts pumping in and out of you again, so slowly it's agonizing for the both of you, but he's sure his resolve will last far longer than yours.

The muscles in your arms grow taut but you’re not strong enough to push off his weight. He stays excruciatingly close, watching every twitch and breath and moan as you try and fail to get a grasp on yourself.

“C’mon tell me.” He goads. “Tell me everything Dick taught you so I can put you to the test. I want to try all of it.” Not only that, but he’s gonna do it all ten times better than Dick ever could, and if the way your cunt clenches around his cock at the seer notion is any indication, you’re gonna enjoy every second of it.

[agappa]

General relationships : Thorfinnxfem!reader

• well if we’re talking about him when he was a teenager it’s gonna be very rough ahah

• Like the only thing he’s thinking about for years is revenge so love is a feeling he’s really not accustomed to.

• He doesn’t acknowledge those romantic feelings. So when he started to feel differently about you compared to others he really didn’t know how to manage those feelings for you.

• So at first, he’s going to be mean to you because you have no right to make his heart beat so fast when you're around !

• Then with a lot of time, he’s going to soften up a little bit (nothing crazy he’s just going to stop screaming at you).

• And then out of nowhere, he is going to surprise himself with the thought of wanting you close to him, not wanting you to go to the battlefield, wanting nobody to hurt you or else they're going to hear about him.

• But honestly, I don't think he’s capable of being in a relationship with you at this time of his life, same when he’s a slave because he needs to work on himself first to accept you in his life.

• But if we're talking about him after those two states… Damn that man gonna treats you so right.

• He has so much love and kindness to give.

• At first, he has trouble receiving physical affection but after he gets used to it he becomes feral about it (but only in private).

• He loves talking all night with you about your projects, stories, and fears.

• Talking about fear this guy has a lot of trauma so you have to soothe all those nasty thoughts.

• But because of his past and current state, he knows how to take care of you when something troubles you.

• Like he got a lot of nightmares, at first he really didn’t want to annoy you with that, so he tried to not make it obvious and go sleep in another room. But once you reassure him and make it clear that you want to be by his side when he’s at his lowest, it's like he falls for you all over again and finally lets you smooth him to sleep (honestly I think I'm going to make a fic about this plot hehe).

• He’s the best listener and makes you feel heard.

• Especially about all your « girls » thing (menstruation, mood swings…) because he never really lived with women so he knows practically nothing about it ! But he’s very curious and eager to learn (like in the manga he thought that women could produce milk at any time, even without being pregnant…).

• So after you teach him about your periods he's gonna be very careful with you, he makes you an adapted diet when you got them and tracks your cycles to be sure everything is all right.

• So honestly he cherishes you like the most precious gem in this world, he already lost too much in his life he couldn’t stand to lose someone so important as you :,)

-> come check my other work <3

[masonmontz]

heeey, how are you? english is not my first language but i really wanted to write something about mason, so if you see something wrong, i’m sorry ):( hope you like it

funny + hot (just some acts and thoughts)

While on Tiktok you saw again that trend where someone sends a dirty text to their partner in front of family or friends to see their reactions. It's an old trend and you used to watch the videos that people made during the pandemic, but now they are doing again and you laugh so much watching all those videos.

And this is a perfect night to tease Mason.

Just because he likes to tease you. He deserves.

Debbie invited you two for her birthday in London and taking advantage of the fact that Mason has a few days off, you decided to travel from Manchester to his parents house.

You and Mason moved to Manchester and most of the time is just you two there, since your family lives in London too. Tonight you attended your mother-in-law's birthday and tomorrow your parents invited you two for lunch, and you will have no rest until you return home.

You are standing next to Jaz in the stairs, paying attention to what she says about Summer’s new school, and you can see Mila sleeping on the couch while her big sister colors the princess book that you and Mason bought for her.

Debbie is sitting next to Mason talking happily, probably happy because her baby boy is home again after a long time. Tony and Lewis are sitting with them on the couch, and you can see them laughing about something Lewis is talking about, maybe one of his crazy travels.

You pick up your phone when you see Mason taking his, but you can’t see what he’s doing because he is sitting in front of you.

You turn off your phone and put it back in your pocket, looking at Mason to see his reaction.

You can see perfectly when he is reading the message, because he paralyzes for thousandths. You see him gulp and he turns his gaze to you.

You send him a shy - and false - smile, pretending like you didn't send him a dirty text twenty seconds ago while his mom is by his side.

Mason shakes his head and can’t hold back a smile, picking up a pillow and placing it on his lap, so no one can see his hard crotch under his pants.

“What are you doing?” You can see his lips move, but you shrug, still looking inocent.

You turn to Jaz and answer her about Summer’s birthday next month. You look again at Mason and he pretends paying attention about what his mom is saying but you can see perfectly how he presses the pillow against his crotch.

He raises his gaze to yours once again.

“I need to go to the bathroom” You say to Jaz and she agrees, moving herself to the couch with everyone.

You laugh alone because of Mason. He always try to tease you in public or anywhere else, but it's so funny to be able to get revenge knowing that he will be embarrassed for getting a hard-on around his family.

You pass through the hallway and go to the bathroom, knowing that your boyfriend will appear in a few seconds. You stare yourself in the mirror just to check the makeup, and when you are are washing your hands, Mason appears.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He says, closing the door and pulling you by the waist. He presses his hard cock against you and you can't help but sigh.

“Have you lost your mind, Y/N?” He kisses your shoulder and rubs his hips against you again. “I’m so hard, I hope none of them saw my pants tight because of my dick.”

“Well, good luck getting this over with.” You say and move away from him.

“What?”

“You know, just a trend I saw on Tiktok.”

“You better be kidding me.”

“Sorry, Mase.” You smile at him, watching him run his hand over his pants to ease the pain. “I wanna suck your dick and maybe be fucked in the bathroom, but right now is just a revenge for all those time you teased me in public.”

Mason closes his eyes and he lets out a laugh. You approach him again and help him, running your hand up and down his dick quickly.

He's so hard that you get turned on, but you take your hand away when you hear him whimper.

“I have to go” You open the door and smile at him one last time. “Lock the door, please.”

“You will definitely kill me, Y/N.” He says and walk to the door. “You better prepare yourself ‘cause I want to fuck you all night.”

[slvthrs]

SWEET REVENGE AND GUITAR STRINGS | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

your ex-boyfriend decided to cheat on you- the sane course of action was sleeping with his enemy

ROCKSTAR!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, praise n degradation kink, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), dressing room sex, slight violence and blood, blood kink if u squint

word count: 2.2k <3

Wrath.

Not even anger or rage- it was pure fucking red wrath. Your boyfriend of 2 years was cheating on you. He had the fucking audacity to cheat on you, and try to hide it. 

God did you want to kill him.

Your bestfriend Elle had sent you a video of him making out with some rando chick at a party and then taking her into a room to obviously have sex. You weren’t even sad, you just wanted to hurt him.

It was 3 days after you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you and the wrath hadn’t gone away. You’ve been ignoring every text, every message, every call- he was going to be so pissed. You were doing a pretty good job of not running into him but today he had a gig and you would have to end up going.

You and Elle were sitting on your bed in your underwear and bra eating a huge assortment of candy and snacks while re-watching Sex Education. 

“Wait have you confronted Theo about cheating on you yet” Elle asked with a lollipop between her lips

You groaned you wanted to but every time you thought about it all you could do was want to punch him “I wanted to trust me but I just wanna hurt him y’know I don’t need his half-assed apology”

“Wait so why don’t you just ditch his gig” Elle inquired

“I would but imagine your girlfriend just ditches you with an explanation because remember he doesn’t know I know he cheated on me” You threw your head back- it was gonna be really hard to get him back

“Hmm does he have like y’know enemies that you can y’know… fuck” Elle suggested

“Elle we’re not in a wattpad fan-fic, Theo doesn’t have enemies per say” You rolled your eyes… but he did have someone who pissed him off to no end

You shot up with a plan in mind, “But he does have someone he kinda hates” You said while you carding through your closet trying to find an outfit

“Oooh who” Elle sat up like a curious dog 

“Vinnie” The name was met with a huff from Elle

Vincent Cole Hacker, lead guitarist and singer of his band and adored by girls all over the country.

His killer style mixed with his rough hair and piercings accompanied with the rings he adorned on each hand which trailed across his guitar with so much purpose you couldn’t help but think what else they could do.

The same Vinnie Theo hated, and the same Vinnie who could never take his eyes off you.

“Babe you're super hot but I’ve legit never seen Vinnie without his army of girls following him, are you sure he’s the one?” Elle probes and she's right Vinnie’s a chick magnet, you’d be lucky to find him alone, but Elle was also right about the fact you were hot, the way your hair sat, framing your face and the way you would bite your fingers, and look up at guys, batting your eyelashes and giggling- toying with their feelings- you had boys begging for you.

But Vinnie was the one you wanted.

“I know, I know, but I have a plan trust me” 

You didn’t have a plan 

All you knew was that Vinnie stared at you for far too long to be considered platonic, and no sane guy would give up a chance to hook up with you.

After about 2 hours, you and Elle were ready. She was wearing a denim skirt with a pink tank top and pink converse adorned with little accessories, while you were wearing a black cropped top with Dominic Fike embroidered on without a bra so you could see your nipples poking through the fabric. Paired with a black mini-skirt and pantyhose which looked like it was attacked by an army of cats and a pair of platforms with some other accessories here and there- you looked enchanting.

The pair of you got there around 30 minutes later and broke off, with Elle waking to the bar to get some drinks and you trying to find your cheating ass boyfriend. 

The bass of all the people walking around made you want to turn on your heel and walk away. You had endured it for the sake of your boyfriend but now the air was filled with venom rather than admiration.

“There she is, hi baby” It sounded so goddamn awful coming from your boyfriends mouth but you had to play the part of the oblivious girlfriend for a little longer

“Hi Theo” You say with the only respect you have for him left and kiss his cheek

As he continues his conversation with his bandmates you zone out and look around while drinking some fruity drink his bandmates gave you. As you looked around you caught the addictive eyes of your target, Vinnie, and unsurprisingly he was checking you out, who wouldn't tbh.

As your staring competition played out you were quickly brought back to reality by your boyfriend telling you they were about to go on stage.

“Hey babe can I talk to you for a sec?” You asked and he went along with it, presumably thinking he was about to get some last minute action.

“Yeah baby, what do you want?” He asked, so fucking oblivious to what was about to happen.

“Who the fuck is this chick your making out with in this video” You said while playing out the video on your phone.

His mouth hung agape, this cunt thought he could have the audacity to be shocked.

“B-babe I don’t know what that is, I-I’m pretty sure I was like sure drunk” Seriously, the ‘I was drunk’ excuse? 

He can do better than that.

“Are you fucking serious, I’ve been drunk plenty of times and I’ve never fucking cheated on you” Every gross and terrible emotion was bubbling up from inside you as you were about to overflow

“I-it doesn’t even matter I just kissed her your fucking overreacting!” Overreacting, this fucking bitch thinks I’m over reacting

With gritted teeth you said “Oh I’m overreacting? I’m fucking overreacting, well you wanna see overreacting?” 

You didn’t even register what your body was doing before,

SNAP!

Fuck, your hand made contact with his face and there was a stream of red trickling down his nose while your knuckles were bruising up.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH” He yelled pushing you up against the wall, while his blood spilled on to your chest

On any other day you wouldn’t have been able to push him off but with the immense amount of rage mixed with adrenaline you were feeling you pushed him to the ground, with your head spinning you ran off into another room trying to catch your breath.

As you finally stood up from your hunched over position and walked over to the mirror in the room- shit my shirt has blood on it, I look like I killed someone

You try to get some tissues to take the blood off but it’s no use the blood is congealed and staining your white shirt so you grab a closed water bottle and try to figure out what dressing room you're in.

You hand slides across a red leather couch with stains and find a stack of polaroids.

As you shuffled through them you see a drummer and bassists clearly drunk and passed out on a sofa, in another one you can see a brunette making a face and flipping off the camera, and in the final one its a group photo 4 boys playing a song in front of a smaller audience- in the photo you spot a particular face- Vinnie.

And as fate has been so kind the tall blonde walks into the room as if on cue, “Oh shit, what are you doing here?”

But before you you can answer his eyes widen and he walks towards you, “Fuck are you okay” He says with knitted eyebrows as his hand hesitantly swiping the blood of your shirt.

“Yeah, it's not my blood” You say with a smile as you try to reassure him, but which only leads him to look at you, even wider eyed.

“It’s Theo’s” You continue as you sit down on the red sofa, “He kinda cheated on me so y’know he deserved it”

You play with your hands in your lap as you look up at Vinnie who's now sitting next to you with an unreadable expression.

“Well he fucking deserved it then” He says breaking the silence as you look up to meet his gaze, “If you we’re my girl, I’d cut my balls of before cheating on you”

You let out an obnoxious laugh while he follows you, “I’m serious though I would never do that, your to fucking hot for that.”

“Yeah yeah” You breathe out as you tip your head back on the sofa as you let Vinnie’s eyes rake over your body, huffing your chest so your tits press against your shirt, watching how he bites his lips.

“So any plans now that you're single” He was obviously trying to hint at you, so you played along.

“I dunno Vinnie, do you have any ideas for me?” You said sliding across the sofa, closer to the blonde boy

He hands trail over the blood on your shirt, staining his fingers and dragging his hand onto your jawline pulling your face up to his, so close but so fucking far, “I have a few ideas”

“Yeah”, You breathe out, “Show me”

Both of your lips interlock at a slow pace at first until he pulls your face away from him to breathe but his gaze drops to your spit covered lips and flushed out look before he smashes them up together for the second time and pulls you onto straddle his lap.

“God every fucking time I saw you with that prick I wanted to kill myself.” He confessed, letting his hands graze up your sides pulling your top off.

All you do in response is giggle whilst you tip your head back so he can lay a trail of saccharine sweet kisses from the base of your neck down to your tits. Your hands scratch his shoulders, bawling his shirt in your first hoping he’ll take it off.

And if Gods looking out for you, he pulls his shirt of ruffling if his hair and goes back to attack your chest with love bites, your hands reach to the back of his head grabbing a tuft of his hair as you throw your head back and moan as his teeth catch your nipples in his mouth.

“Vinnie, fuck oh my god” You moaned out, his hands moved to flip up your skirt and fondling your ass while you grind down on his hardened dick, then he takes shuffles around with his belt pulling it of and tossing it on the ground keeping you too connected with the bloody kisses falling from your lips on to his tan skin.

“Whenever he kissed you, touched you, my skin felt like it was on fucking fire,” He pulls of his pants with one swift motion as they fall to the ground with a light, airy thud, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you, your too hot for him,” 

You pull off of him to stare into his eyes, “Vinnie, I adore you, but if you bring up my ex one more damn time while we're about to have sex I’m getting up and leaving” You say will as emotionless of a face you can pull.

He airs out a breathy laugh but rather than replying he flips the two of you over onto the sofa and rips your skirt of, “Yes ma’am,” He starts, “But we both know your not leaving to go anywhere” 

He looks for a condom but I stop him, “I’m on birth control and your clean, don’t worry”, you say with the most poise you can muster whilst your under a 6 foot man

With his new found confidence, he lines up your entrance with his dick, carefully sliding in, going gently through your folds whilst you arch into the motion gasping out for him,

As your hands hook around his head to pull both of you into a kiss, he sets a ruthless pace, pounding into you like his life depends on it but not letting you relish a single moment of freedom.

He doesn’t stop for a second, not letting you rest whilst the entire room echos with sounds of skin slapping and it doesn’t stop, turning the melody of your skins coming in contact and the rhythm of your synched breathless moans turns the room into a orchestra of pleasure and carnal desire as both of you chase your release.

And it’s not far, you cum first with a loud moan and arching your back with your mouth in an ‘O’ shape and he’s not far behind cumming in you and dropping down on to you to place more hickeys all over you and claim you even more as his.

They say revenge is an act of passion, and while you're laying there, breath panting, legs sore and your ex-boyfriends biggest rival laying on top of you rubbing circles into your skin… you can’t help but think they're right, because what’s a bigger act of passion than sex? And what’s a bigger form of revenge than betrayal? And the best betrayal is the sight of your ex-boyfriend watching you limp out of a dressing room with your hair and makeup messed up whilst his rival follows behind you in an even worse state.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey Slay boy, it’s me again. There’s not a lot of content for literally any of them so can I get like A-Train, (not the deep), MM, Frenchie, and some of Hughie

A-Train, MM, Frenchie and Hughie, as boyfriends

Headcanons

couldnt find any good gif, so i just chose this one

Reginald “Reggie” Franklin, “A-train”

Dating Reggie means you most likely are also a supe, maybe even someone well known in the community, since he cares a lot about his image.

Though, I also can see him being super open about being in a relationship with a man, since that would greatly affect his image and how people see him. So expect to be on the downlow with A-train, he still loves you though.

Later on, after everything, Reggie might start thinking about being public with his relationship with you, since you mean so much to him and he wants to be able to stand side by side with you even in public.

He still cares a lot about his image, and wants to appear as the best version of himself, so he probably acts kinda fake in public, but is more emotional and available in private.

Is a secret cuddlebug in private, and craves your approval and attention the most. Is scared hes not good enough for you, so he needs the reassurance.

Marvin T. Milk, “Mothers Milk”

M.M is a more put together partner, and is probably the best out of all of these guys to talk about his feelings, as he seems the type to sit down and talk about it, if either of you have issues in your relationship.

He always keeps a slight eye on you at most times to keep you safe, no matter where you are, since he still suffers from the fear of losing parts of his family.

Needs a daily checkup on you if you guys are ever apart, or else he cant sleep at night because he has a deep instinctual fear that Soldier Boy has somehow killed you too, so do keep that in mind if you ever travel somewhere without him.

Outside of his hate for soldier boy and his want for revenge, I could see M.M as the most likely to be able to have a domestic healthy relationship with.

Serge, “Frenchie”

Cares very deeply for his partner, so much it can put him in danger at times. If you get hurt, he loses track of what he was doing which can be dangerous.

He doesn’t appear the type to others, but I can imagine Frenchie is quite the romantic when it comes down to it. He would bake you treats in his free time, take you on dates or just have dates at home if you guys cant go out, the likes.

The type to compliment you In another language, mainly to himself under his breath, but in the morning when you guys wake up he would mumble about how handsome you are and how much he loves you.

Teaches you how to use most weapons in case you need it, or how to recognize most drugs to make sure you don’t get drugged, or any chance you might need that knowledge.

Hughie Campbell

A softy and is probably the one who loves to cuddle the most, is also most likely the most open about his relationship status. Doesn’t feel any shame about his sexuality, because as long as it’s you, he doesn’t care what others thing.

Comes to you for comfort or to feel safe after everything happens, just needs to lay in your arms and shake and cry to himself, as being held by you is enough. It might take a bit for him to tell you what’s bothering him, as he doesn’t want you to get hurt because of him.

The one who likes to borrow your clothes and wear it, even if you are smaller than him. If you have any hoodie that might fit him, hes stolen it at least a few times. Likes to be surrounded by your scent.

It takes a little bit, but after he starts, he tells you he loves you any chance he gets. Both because hes scared of losing you or himself dying, but also just to make sure you know.

[slaybestieslay946]

uhhh you asked for requests SO luke x fem reader where she joins him with kronos pls😓🙏

thank you for ur request, sorry it took kind of a long time to get to it! i took it in kind of a dark/tragic direction, but hope you enjoy anyway!

Revenge, or Justice?

MASTERLIST

word count: 2100

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader

warnings: kind of manipulative behaviour? they're not good people yall!!

a/n: decided to step out of my delusion for five minutes and confront the fact that Luke Castellan is not my perfect little princess :((

I

You understood Luke Castellan, in ways no one else did. 

Around camp, he had always been the golden boy, charming, talented, kind. But you could see through him, and his act. 

As a daughter of Nemesis, you could practically smell the need for revenge. Every time you saw him, it was like a flashing beacon. The twitch of his face each time someone mentioned his quest, or he caught a glimpse of that scar in the mirror. 

The way he tossed and turned in his sleep, waking up from nightmares to stare at the ceiling angrily. 

It was so obvious to you, and you always wondered how no one else saw it. 

For years, you hardly interacted. Your worlds would never collide, even if you understood him better than most people. He probably didn’t even realise you knew his secrets. That was until he approached you up front, a few days after your 18th birthday. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He said as he strode up to your table, greeting you like you were old friends. Which you probably should be, considering you’d shared a cabin together for the past 5 years. 

“Oh, hi.” 

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, gesturing to the seat opposite you. 

You shrugged noncommittally. 

“So, what’s up?” You asked, pushing your food around your plate. 

“Nothing really.” He was obviously lying. 

“Why are you here then?”

“Do you not want me here?”

“I never said that. I was just wondering why you’re suddenly showing an interest when we’ve never spoken to each other before.” You explained calmly, you didn’t sound bitter about it, because you weren’t. 

“Hm, that’s true.” He muttered, resting his chin on his palm, “I suppose I just wanted to ask you what you think of it all.”

“All of what?”

“Camp. Life. Whatever.” 

“This place? It’s alright. I’ve been in worse places.”

“Hm, that’s true.” He mumbled, seeming slightly lost in thought, as if trying to decode your answer. 

“Luke, can you please just cut to the chase? What do you want to ask me?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it, sorry for bothering you.” He said, and quickly stood up, walking away in such a hurry that he left his tray behind. 

That first interaction confirmed all of your suspicions, Luke Castellan was hiding something, and you were going to find out what that was. 

II

Eventually, you managed to get it out of him. You cornered him in the woods one day after the campfire, and demanded to know what he was plotting. Of course, you couldn’t have known that he would declare his hatred for the gods and how he wished they could be overthrown, but it wasn’t exactly surprising. You’d always known something was off about the boy, even when you couldn’t properly pinpoint it. 

“I just, I thought you’d understand, y’know-”

“‘Cause I’m the daughter of revenge?”

“Well, yes, but also-”

“No, you're right. I do understand. The gods have treated me like shit my whole life. They dump us minor children in your cabin, along with all the ones they’re too ashamed to claim. And all you major children, you're treated like you don’t exist, probably because there are too many of you to count.” You explained, looking directly at him. 

He returned your gaze, and in his eyes you saw the realisation that you knew him better than he ever thought. And that he knew you in return. 

“I always saw you looking at me, did you know?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. 

“That you were the same as me? I had a feeling. Ever since you came back from the quest you seemed different. Angrier.”

“Huh. I didn’t think I was so obvious.” 

“You weren’t. I just know a want for revenge when I see it. It’s in my blood.”

“You didn’t see anything then, because I don’t want revenge. I want justice.”

“Same difference, Castellan.”

III

It didn’t take long for you and Luke to begin making plans. He had later confessed to you that they all came from Kronos who had visited him in his dreams, insisting that the only way to overthrow the gods was to resurrect him.

You hadn’t been too happy about that. You didn’t like the gods, but that didn’t mean the titans would be any better. But Luke assured you he was only using Kronos, stringing him along to help achieve your joint goal. 

Did you believe him? You believed that was his intention, but whether he could actually execute that was a different matter entirely. 

Despite your slight reservations, you still chose to help Luke with his main plan, which was to steal the master bolt. 

Strategising wasn’t exactly your biggest strength, but luckily Luke had learnt a thing or two from Annabeth, and he was able to formulate the plot to steal Zeus’ bolt during the winter solstice. It was something which suited him, being the son of thieves. 

Meanwhile, it seemed your main role was to be his emotional support. You weren’t overly thrilled about it, but if it helped to achieve your end goal, you could deal with it. 

Soon you realised just how necessary you were to Luke’s plan. He would’ve certainly cracked by now if you weren’t there to reassure him that what he was doing was right. As much as he seemed solid in his convictions, you could tell that without Kronos nudging him, he would never have acted on any of them. 

Although, if it weren’t for Luke, you wouldn’t have either. 

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” He would ask as you went over the plan once again, desperate for some kind of validation. 

“Yes. I trust you a lot. You can do this.” 

“And we’re right to do this?” 

“Yes. You want justice, remember?”

“Yeah. That’s what I want.”

He preferred it when you called it justice and not revenge. He was still so righteous in some ways. Old habits die hard. 

IV

Luke only truly proved his dedication to the plan when he was revealed as the thief. He abandoned his sister and betrayed all of camp for the cause, and as you both fell through the portal backbiter had created, your trust in him was cemented. 

You were in it for the long haul now, there was no going back. And as sad as you were to see Annabeth’s poor little face, you were more disappointed that she hadn’t understood. You’d thought she was a smart girl, so how could she not see that what you and Luke were doing was right?

The next few months were rough, and it took you back to the old days when you were alone and on the run. Except this time you had someone beside you each step of the way. During that time was when you stopped seeing Luke as merely an ally that you tolerated, and more of a friend you trusted. 

He was strong and intelligent, and more firm about his convictions than ever before. And each day, your certainty that you made the right choice grew and grew. You hoped your mother was proud. 

Luke was right. You were fighting for justice. Justice for the minor gods and their children who were constantly overlooked. 

But equally you understood a large part of your decision to go against the gods had been about selfish revenge. And you were ok with that. Revenge was your thing, it always had been. 

V

Over time, your feelings for Luke continued to grow, and you could tell he felt the same way. You’d always been able to read him like a book, and you didn’t know if that was because you were good with people, or because he laid his soul bare to you. 

You hoped it was the latter, and as he hugged you to his side during rough nights on the Princess Andromeda, you knew all your hopes had come true. 

But you also knew that any ‘love’ was just a footnote in your stories. You were both much more focused on your goals. 

This time, it was ‘your’ plan that was put into practice. Kronos wanted to revive Thalia, to put another demigod into play that could fulfil the prophecy. But it was your idea to poison the tree and allow the campers to retrieve the golden fleece for you. 

After all, you knew every demigod wanted glory, to appease their parents. What better way to goad them into doing your dirty work than with the promise of a great quest?

You were pleased to finally have a proper role in the planning, and you realised that this was your greatest strength, understanding people. 

After all, it was what had led you to Luke, and now what allowed you to aid Kronos, and it worked. You were one step closer to realising your dream. 

XI

Luke had been distant ever since he found out Thalia was alive again. He suddenly seemed conflicted, torn between past and present. 

You had always thought it would be Annabeth that came between him and his goal, but it seemed Thalia was the real problem. 

He was determined to recruit her too, insisting that she’d fit in perfectly, and that she was certain to see things his way. You weren’t so sure. In your eyes, Thalia would only serve as a distraction for Luke, something to pull him away from his work. And something to pull him away from you. 

You’d always thought that it would be just you and him. That you needed each other, in a way that went deeper than a silly teen romance. You understood him, you always had. When you looked into his eyes, you saw yourself, your ideals, your future, reflected back at you. And you thought it was the same for him. 

But apparently not, apparently you didn’t know him best. She did. 

“Are you sure you want to recruit her, Luke? What if something happens?”

“Like what?” He asked, his voice derisive and mocking.

“Oh, I don’t know, her saying no and then running you through?” 

“She won’t say no.” He said firmly, brushing you off once more. 

So when you heard Luke was injured, your immediate thought was that Thalia had run him through. And, of course, you were right.

Ethan, your half-brother, had brought him to you, back to the Princess Andromeda, and as twisted as it was, the first thing you wanted to say was I told you so. 

That was of course, until you saw his broken body in the infirmary, and all thoughts of anger were forgotten. 

“Oh, god, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay.” You cried, rushing over to him, and crouching beside his bed. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll survive. Just please don’t say ‘I told you so’ yet.”

“Okay soldier,” You responded, your voice so choked with emotion that you couldn’t help but let the term of endearment slip out.

“Do you-” He paused to take in a deep breath, his body shaking as he did so, “Do you still trust me?” 

You nodded furiously. 

“You’ll be with me till the end, won’t you?”

“Of course I will Luke. Till the very end.”

VII

You wonder if you knew then just how it would end. Possibly you did. You were both doomed from the moment he sat down at your table. 

But you kept your promise to him. You stayed with him until the end, you survived through all those months of watching him change from the boy you trusted into the man you feared. 

You stood by and watched as he grew cruel to everyone around him. Normally you were the exception, but you weren’t entirely immune to his scathing words and glances. 

You sat by his body as he bled out, the golden blood of a titan shifting into the red blood of a mortal. And you didn’t resist as you too were taken. 

Sometimes you wondered what your relationship would be like in a world without gods. Or at least one where they cared about their children. 

Would you have even met? Would you care for each other without that common thread of anger running between you? You hoped so. You hoped that your twisted relationship was just a product of circumstance, and that the feelings were real. You hoped that they could have formed without the codependency and the paranoia. 

But the truth was you were from different worlds, tied together by your goals, so desperate to achieve justice. Or revenge. 

And the real tragedy was not your failed love story, but the fact that even after so much sacrifice, you still couldn’t achieve what you wanted. 

A world where you didn’t need to be an archangel of revenge at the age of 18. A world where you could simply live. 

[dilfl0v3rss]

this was the eren and reiner fic with a the different ending. i felt like it wasn’t what y’all wanted so i changed it, but if you’re interested in reading it here it is🤷🏽‍♀️

caller blocked

“ian ready for no relationship.” the excuse of excuses. the words that were always thrown your way after you’d try to convince your little “fling” that you wanted to be more. eren stood up, zipping his pants before grabbing his hoodie and heading out your dorm room. your situation was…complicated. well not really. you grew very attached to this man, looking for him at parties, going to every single one of his games, giving him your notes so he wouldn’t fail and get kicked off the team, and letting him fuck you whenever he wanted.

you were practically dating. or that’s what you thought. eren seen you as just another pretty little thing to keep his grades up and his dick wet. using you constantly while labeling it at love to keep you coming back for more. “b-but why ren?” eren dropped his shoulders, sighing before he walked back to you and raised your chin with his fingers. “you know the rules pretty. cant be tied down worrying about a girl during the season. when all of this craziness is over then we can work sum out.”

a smile bloomed on your face as you looked at eren in complete adoration. you couldn’t wait for the season to end so you could finally be with the man you love. your friends seen you as a complete idiot, and they had no problem trying to shut down your delusions. “girl what don’t you get? as soon as the season ends he gon drop you like a bad habit.” “yea he’s lying to you baby.”

you shook your friend as your friends annie and sasha tried to speak some sense into you. “he wouldn’t do that to me. h-he lo-” “he doesn’t love you and m’gonna prove it.” before you could reply annie pulls out her phone, clicking historias instagram story to show you what she posted in her close friends. there eren was, laying his head on her stomach with his arms wrapped around her as the rest of his body laid snug between her legs. the caption reading ‘pussy put his ass to sleep🤣’.

your eyes instantly welled with tears as you watched eren, your eren be with someone else the same way he’d be with you. annie was contemplating telling you for awhile. hoping that you’d come to your senses on your own without having to get hurt, but she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. “why would he-” “because historias dumber than a bag of rocks and she doesn’t mind sucking and fucking a dick that’s been in half the campus.” sasha spit.

annie wiped your tears with a napkin from her purse before standing up with you on the quad bench. “fuck him furreal. there’s so many guys that have been tryna get at you, but you’ve been oblivious to them because of eren.” you nodded your head, acting as if you were agreeing but you were really heartbroken. the three of you said your goodbyes and you went back to your room. tears flooded your pillowcase as you thought about what you had just witnessed.

you were being played, but you weren’t about to just let it go. deciding that one day you’ll get your revenge, but right now you wanted nothing to do with him. weeks went by since you’ve last talked to eren. he wasn’t suspicious of it since he’d usually only talk to you when he needed something anyways. covering up his actions with “practice” to keep you from pestering him.

as annie said, a lot of guys have tried to get at you and instead of shooting them down like you usually did, you gave one a chance. you and reiner have gotten pretty close over the last few weeks. texting almost everyday, eating lunch together, and sharing your favorite books with each other in the library as you studied. he was sweet and charming.

always paying for your lunch no matter how many times you’ve tried to return the favor, walking you all the way to your dorm after a particularly late study sesh, and holding your hand when the two of you would cross the street. he mostly did that for his enjoyment, but you didn’t mind.

the two of you weren’t dating, but many people thought you were, given that one was barely seen without the other. “where’s your boo suge.” sasha would say when you finally hung out with your girls after three long weeks. “hush uppp. we just talking.” annie, sasha, and pieck busted out laughing before pieck leaked some information to you.

“girl you know we seen you getting your back blown out in the back of his jeep right?” your hands flew to your mouth as you gasped in shock. “yupp. saw him pulling your hair and allat right in our dorm parking lot.” sasha said as you covered your face in embarrassment before mumbling into your hands. “ooouuu yall so nosey i could strangle all three of you right now.” annie scoffed as she pulled your arms from your face.

“you think we’re dumb? you’ve been ditching us every chance you got. and when you do decide to finally hang out with us for a little, you come with a bunch hickies and a pimp walk.” all of you laughed at her last comment. rolling your eyes before checking your phone. speak of the devil.

rei🌻

‘got everything ready for movie night!’

‘waiting on you now mama💛’

you looked up from your phone, instantly getting pissed looks from your friends. “don’t even say nun. go be wit your man. enjoy it too because this weekend you all OURS. you hear me?” you giggled as you stood from your spot on sasha’s beanbag chair. “i hear youuu. love yallll!!” each of your friends replied with “love you toos” before you left to go spend time with reiner.

“aight i got nightmare on elm street and i got fri-” “princess and the frog” reiner chuckled as you looked up at him. sitting on his bed in nothing but his t shirt that you changed into as soon as you got there. “we watched that last time princess. you said you’d let me switch it up.” pink lip jutting out in a pout at he looked at you with sad eyes.

you laughed, watching this huge man with black ink dancing around his arms and chest being such a softy for you. his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he situated himself under you on the bed. “okay then coco. i love un poco locoooo” a groan flew from his lips as he rolled his eyes at your choices. “no more disney. if i hear another song ima rip my ears off.”

the two of you ended up settling on john wick, but that didn’t really matter since it was thirty minutes into the movie where you found yourself plopping up and down on his thick dick. big veiny hand holding the back of your neck while his other arm was squeezing your ass. “how ya feeling princess.”

your moans flew directly into reiners ear as your hands gripped the pillow next to his head. “s-so good papa. real good.” his pace slowed as he started putting more of his inches into you. your hands flew to his hair, stroking and pulling his blonde crown with your eyes closed tightly. “that’s what i like to hear. love making my pretty girl feel good.” you were so out of it you didn’t even notice that reiners hand was no longer on your ass. instead he was texting your ex fling on your phone.

ren ren💚

‘yo. you up?’

he seen the name pop up and instantly got heated, knowing what he’s done to you. he grabbed the device without thinking as he made quick work to delete his number before replying.

you

‘yea what’s up?’

347-***-****

‘miss you mama🤧’

‘let me pull up on you’

‘the nerve of this guy’ reiner thought as a quick idea came up into his head. he quickened his strokes, laying the phone on the bed as the phone dialed erens number. “o-o-ooouuu rei you feel so good.” a smirk crept onto his face. “i feel good pretty girl?” you nodded your head, whining after you felt a hard slap to your ass. the sound bouncing off the walls as his one hand took up lots of space on your asscheek.

“use those words mama. like when you talk t’me.”

“y-you feel so g-good daddyyyy” reiner looked up at you in adoration before connecting his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss. smacking sounds ringing loud in the air as he practically devoured you. reiner glanced back at the phone to see that eren had hung up, a bunch of texts popping up as he scrolled through each of them.

347-***-****

‘wyd y/n?’

‘man you so lame for that fr’

‘how you just gon give my pussy away like that?’

‘he never gon be able to fuck you like i do’

‘cmon baby don’t pass up a relationship with me for braun…’

‘i swear i’ll never text historia again’

‘she could never amount to you ong baby’

‘baby?’

‘text me back y/n :(‘

‘at least still study with me…historia’s so dumb i’ll get kicked off the team fasho’

*caller blocked*

reiner threw your phone to the side before laying you on you your back. pulling out of you before moving his head towards your pussy. his pink lips wrapped around your clit before licking up and down your middle. “all mine right baby?” his green eyes met your brown ones. the two of you staring deeply into each other before you nodded you head slowly.

“all yours”

[brucewaynehater101]

I saw someone bring up the fact that Tim has been assaulted before and it reminded me of a very old au I came up with about something similar. Trigger warning for mentions of Sexual Assault, Drugging, and Murder. This is also partly inspired by the movie Jennifer's Body.

Tim has been assaulted by Ras sister, likely Ras as well, and there are a few villians that I remember who don't Assault him but they definitely are *looking*. Plus Tim is a very pretty person, isn't he? Who knows how many people Leer at him all the time, say things that they really shouldn't to "flirt" with him and well. This is Gothem. I wouldn't be all to surprised if someone as pretty as him ended up with something in his drink if he went to a bar.

I'm going to skip over what happens at the house party that Tim goes to (he was invited by his friends and it was just supposed to be a bunch of drunk high school students. It should have been fine, right?) But when he wakes up the next morning, he is sore all over in a way he doesn't like and only remembers horrible flashes of the night before. He's hung over and still a little dizzy from the drugs so he doesn't notice the person next to him until his chin is grabbed. He doesn't know this guy, he doesn't know where he is, but the guy is moving in to kiss him and Tim's hand wraps around something and in the next blink the guy is off him and Tim feels something wet dripping down his face. When did he stand up? The guy is crumbled on the bed which is turning red and there is a broken lamp in his hand.

Tim knows Bruce would never forgive him for this, he just *killed* someone. Sure he's coming down from some drugs and the guy assaulted him and was about to again, but Tim *killed* him. It doesn't matter that he blacked out. It doesn't matter that others in the family have killed multiple people and Bruce just shrugged it off. Tim is supposed to be better and he fucked it all up.

It takes a while for Tim to come to a decision. He's already fucked up, nothing can change that. But he also can't dig any deeper, right? After all, this guy wasn't the only one who assaulted him that night. And Tim wants revenge on all of them. So he makes a list of all the guys who hurt him that night and slowly makes his way through them, luring them somewhere secluded, acting like he's going to let them between his legs again, before killing them and hiding the bodies. After all, he's a Bat. If he doesn't want anyone to know it was him, they won't.

The kills feel good, they make him feel better about what happened to him. It puts the power over his body back in his own hands. But there is still a hollow in his chest, a void that only temporarily feels better. The nightmares don't stop after they're all gone. Better yes, but not gone. So therefore, more kills should do it, right? But he can't kill just anyone. He can only kill those who deserve it. So Tim goes to Bars in disguise and pretends to be a very drunk and pretty girl who gets picked up by people. He waits until they are in the target's home or a hotel before telling them that he's to drunk to do this, that he doesn't want it anymore, and that he just wants to sleep. If the person backs off, they can go free. If they continue after three tries to stop them, then Tim will dig his knife into their neck and kill them. Every single one, he writes their crimes on the wall in their own blood.

Tim thinks he's helping not just himself but everyone else who's ever been in his position. The Bats think there's a new serial killer on the loose. Neither side is truly wrong. The Bats are also pulling out their hair about being unable to find *anything* beyond some security footage of the victim leaving a bar with a woman who looks different everytime. Sometimes a blonde, sometimes Brunette, sometimes red head. They use colored contacts and make up to change their face shape just enough that they never look the same.

It's many kills later when Bruce manages to catch Tim in the act. He wasn't even looking for the killer, he just heard a scream while patrolling and ran to investigate. He found a woman kneeling over a dying man, stabbing him while saying, "I told you not to touch me! I told you to *stop*!" In a voice he knows very well.

Here's where a split can happen. Is this a good dad Bruce who will stop his son and help him, or is this a very bad Bruce who will simply resolve to send Tim to Arkham for being a serial killer without thinking of the potential consequences? I mean. If he does the latter, there's a sold chance that when people find out why The Timothy Drake, CEO of WE was put in Arkham (Tim will freely tell the press he did it and why because he is Very Mentally Fucked at this point) there is a solid chance of people thinking Tim was caught because he targeting Batman and Batman failed his test.

In case anyone didn't read the first part, TW: sa, murder, nonconsensual drugging

Unfortunately, I do imagine that Tim, other Waynes, and other heroes have been subjected to this. Considering how public two of Tim's personas are, there's probably been some shit online as well.

I thank the gods that Barbara exists, and I despair the types of messages she has to read/sift through for her family's safety. I like to imagine she sends information out to various people depending on the shit people say or do online (and whether there is evidence they might do anything offline). She probably has automatic systems, but she has to be the one to read when certain messages get pinged (one off messages probably get automatically dealt with, but multiple get put on a radar/list).

To be completely frank, the US's system is shit for sa survivors trying to get safety or justice. I'm not gonna argue with anyone about that, so go look at stats if you want.

So, seeing a character work outside of the law to ensure others' safety and enact justice? It's nice. I'd also be down for Tim (in various identities) utilizing a method like the movie "Promising Young Woman (2020)."

I would like to see Tim and Jason interacting within this AU after Jason finds out (particularly if RH has policies against sa and actively mitigates such). Dick would be particularly devastating to through in the mix (I'm talking him keeping it together enough to soothe Tim to sleep with hair pats and then escaping to violently throw up and sob).

There are a few fics of Jason brutally murdering or maiming sex offenders if that's anyone's cup of tea.

You mentioned that Tim might be mentally fucked by the time he gets caught. I think he probably would. Not for the murders, but for never actually addressing what happened to him. He's just repressing the shit out of it and trying to cope with murder (this isn't a good coping mechanism).

Now... Bruce being a bad dad by throwing Tim im jail could be cool and interesting in this. However, Bruce blaming himself for failing Tim, for allowing Tim to become the way he is, and for not helping Tim sooner is spicy. Just Bruce making Tim's situation about Bruce, trying to fix Tim, and condemning Tim for his actions (by locking Tim in the batcave like a family embarrassment instead of jail) would be excellent bad dad Bruce. Bruce parading himself as a good dad while mentally fucking Tim up worse.

[vingvks]

Mikey headcanons.

(My perspective, opinion on Mikey headcanons)

(Also any ideas for characters?)

MIGHT BE SPOILERS! ⚠️

Mix of female and male reader

(Kanto or kantou manji idfk and idfc)

Might be bad grammar because I’m naturally a fast typer.

Fluff

-I could see Mikey being clingy (Toman Mikey and maybe even Manila and Bonten Mikey but in more private places with just you and him.)

-Toman Mikey’s probably very defensive and protective of you, just like with baji. (Ifykyk)

-if your in a bad mood he might give you a couple nibbles of his dorayaki, only if your sad but he’s definitely stingy.

-messy sleeper. I feel like sleeping in the same bed with him is a mess. He definitely will have his arms and legs everywhere. I feel like he would randomly wrap legs with you.

-Your relationship would probably be private for safety reasons even though he would still let you around Toman but your his so called close “friend” similar to his relationship with Draken.

-Petty, not petty in like a bad way though. For example if you forget to get him some dorayaki when your coming to see him he’ll do something small but petty as revenge.

-only sleeps in cold beds. He likes the cold breeze in his room.

-he’s like a woman on her period when you don’t bring him the snacks when he asked you to.

Angst

-when Draken died his mental health got even worse. I believe Draken used to baby Mikey because he could never get out of bed on his own after what happened with Shinichiro so you’d have to be the one to help him with simple tasks like helping him get up and care for him because he won’t do it for himself.

-Bonten Mikey is a light sleeper so if you move a lot he’ll definitely get pissed and hurt your feelings by saying something insensitive, he will never hit you though.

-Bonten Mikey has insomnia on certain nights, he’ll lay in bed with you until you fall asleep and then get up to do something else while your sleeping.

-Manila Mikey would ruin plans with you to go out and find takemichi. (Ifykyk)

-Bonten Mikey would definitely talk shit about Bonten executives to make you hate them as much as he does.

-Once kanto manji arc started Mikey became possessive. Like you cant talk to certain people and he needs to know where you are at all times. This is because Mikey feels as if those around him that he loves are bound to die, he feels as if he’s bad luck. If you were to not tell him where you were he would send members out to find you and dark impulse might even happen, as in he might hurt or kill someone in the meanwhile.

-long hair Manila mikey will come to your house randomly to hang out meanwhile acting as if he doesn’t have his victims blood on him.

-all Mikey’s (except toman and kanto) are pretty merciless. That’s included killing a child or animal if needed.

-Ever since Kanto manji arc Mikey tends to get easily frustrated or pissed even though he keeps a blank face. His eyes say it all.

-sometimes Mikey might snap at you because of dark impulse and then realize what he did. This would result in him doing something such as starving himself, locking himself in a room somewhere or just straight up harming himself as self punishment.

(This is actually a headcanon because of black dragon arc where Mikey purposely let taiju hit him as a punishment to himself and when he let Draken beat him up because he couldn’t protect Emma. Basically letting others hurt him because he believes he deserves it.)

-Manila Mikey has manic episodes sometimes. I feel like he would be delusional at times and hallucinate.

-Bonten Mikey cannot sleep without you, he doesn’t like the thought of you being somewhere else while he’s laying down.

-Manila Mikey is manipulative time to time to get what something he really wants. When he doesn’t get it regardless he’ll loose his cool and get violent, Mainly from dark impulse.

-Keep a close eye on Bonten Mikey and Manila Mikey when you can. Atleast text Bonten Mikey four times an hour to check on him. But don’t text him on busy days. If he doesn’t answer your text call him on a busy day, call him.

-Mental disorder for sure.

-bad communication skills. Whenever you call him out he’ll say something like “You knew what you were getting into.”

-puts you and those he truly loves before himself. Selfless person but also very selfish when it comes to people he doesn’t care about.

-Bonten mikey has fantasies of having a double suicide with you. So that he’ll be free from his suffering with you still right beside him in his heart. You’d both probably end up dying with each other.

-very possessive and jealous. To the point it can be agonizing. Only if you really put him in his place (in any way..) he’ll stop for a bit.

-Manila mikey is usually smiling but as soon as he gets angry his whole persona turns upside down.

-Bonten Mikey has scars all along his body but hides it with sleeves etc.

-Long hair Manila mikey does a lot more gore killing then you’d expect.

-toxic asf

-yandere (toman mikey doesn’t kill others however other timeline Mikey’s wouldn’t hesitate for you.)

-They’d probably treat you like shit at times but go spiraling when you threaten leaving them, despite knowing that you can’t.

-I feel as if at times they’d occasionally victimize themselves, only till you hit them with a reality check.

-They are guilt tripping at times, but I feel they’d do it to get your attention, unhealthy obsession.

Smut

Dominant (mixed slight submissive in this too but yeah…)

-Long hair Manila mikey would wanna do some crazy shit sex wise, despite him never actually doing it for you sake.

-Bonten Mikey is definitely rough but quiet. In a irritated mood? That’s fine, he’ll take it out on you sexually.

-kanto manji Mikey is also pretty quiet but he starts off slow and then gets faster. He really doesn’t care, he’ll fuck you while other Kanto manji members are near.

-Manila Mikey does a lot of foreplay. Like thigh and neck kissing and slowly making his way up. If you were to do it to him he’d be ashamed of himself but then again he loves it.

-I feel as if long hair Manila Mikey and short hair Manila Mikey would do foreplay for a long time until you get desperate enough to beg him for more than just that.

-Manila Mikey groans a lot and whines occasionally. I feel like he’s slightly louder and whines often when he’s in the submissive role.

-Kanto manji Mikey doesn’t have a high-sex drive so he’ll just rail or ride you for your sake (he still loves it though) . But every other Mikey timeline do it for themselves.

-only time Kanto manji Mikey is in the mood is when he needs to relive his anger. (Either topping you or bottoming for you, whatever he wants more.)

-Every Mikey timeline is controlling in the sex department. (They can still be a controlling bottom until you put him in his place.)

-long hair Manila Mikey only fucks to get his mind off things. He’ll go all night, depending on how long you go the louder he gets.

-he’ll praise you just so your body can react.

-his hips and thrust are hard. Prepare for painful aching the next day.

-Thigh kissing kink.

-choking kink.

-lots of hickeys on collarbone and neck.

-emotional sex depending on how he’s feeling.

-passionate sex if you’ve pleased him or impressed him in anyway.

-he definitely leaves bruises on your hips, he keeps a firm tight grip.

-I feel like Manila Mikey would call you “doll”

-Manila Mikey is playful and unserious at first but when he starts to feel the pleasure he gets quiet and rough.

-this might suck a little but if you piss them off sometimes he’ll become controlling and only go for his own orgasm, leaving you half done unless you beg for it.

Submissive

-Bonten Mikey was not a big fan when he realized he was more submissive to you. As long as you take him somewhere very private he’ll be as loud as he wants. Other than that he doesn’t fuck in places where people are near.

-Kanto manji Mikey is loud. Deadass don’t know why but I feel like he’s mumbles curse words while you rail or ride him, he’s gets a satisfaction of relief. (depending on your preference and gender)

-Manila Mikey, his ego was lowkey hurt but if you go fast he’ll only care about sex in that one moment.

-Kanto manji Mikey doesn’t like fucking in open places. You have to be somewhere private and far away from gang members. As long as he isn’t limping or aching when your done he’ll pretend nothing happened and go on about his day.

-Bonten Mikey whispers. He’ll whisper if he wants it slower or faster but if you don’t slow down sometimes he’ll get loud.

-if you make Manila Mikey cry in the middle of sex he’ll get submissive and emotional. He’s a pretty crier.

-Manila mikey likes to ride. He’s louder that way.

-I feel like in response to his trauma he’d hate being degraded severely while bottoming, only occasionally, he’d probably prefer quiet sex or you praising him.

-Both Bonten and Kanto manji Mikey grip sheets tightly. They might even tear the sheets.

-best place you can get any timeline Mikey submissive is bending over a desk or table.

-Manila Mikey has a praising kink, you praise him and he’ll praise you back. He will ever admit how much it makes his heart race.

-Bonten Mikey breathing gets erratic when you praise him.

-All Mikey timelines hate the thought of getting caught being in a submissive position. I genuinely think they would kill or threaten anyone who were to see a damn thing.

-Bonten Mikey is disrespectful until you fuck him dry. He’d probably be judging and talking shit nonchalantly then get all quiet when you prove him wrong.

-Neither of the Mikey timelines talk much in the middle of sex beside Manila mikey. I believe that the rest of the Mikey timelines beside Manila mikey are pillow princesses when on a bed because they’re too embarrassed to see the look on your face while your fucking them. (Either riding or railing them)

-fucking any long hair Manila mikey or any adult Mikey with with his long hair out and free is top tier. He’s pretty with his hair out and messy.

-Punishment sex for any of them is a turn on but they’ll never admit. Nothing is more embarrassing to Mikey than you making him beg for it.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hii! Do you know any sterek kinda dark Fics where they’re kinda horrible to everyone but each other?

Yeah!

Blood For Blood by NotMyBestIdea 

(1/1 I 342 I Mature)

Nothing is going to come between Derek and his revenge.

He'll bleed you 'til you're just bone and skin by ElisAttack

(1/1 I 2,236 I Explicit)

It's moments when Stiles feels the dull pull of the bruises on his hips, moments when he can't sleep on his stomach because the throbbing ache does nothing for a good night's sleep, it's those moments that make him feel worthless.

Makes him hate Derek with a passion that burns brighter than anything else he feels.

Or the one where Derek doesn't know his strength, but Stiles knows he deserves it.

32 Hours by cheshirecat101

(1/? I 2,725 I Teen)

Stiles has to make the 32 hour trip from California to Chicago, Illinois, in order to get to his new home for the next four years. But it seems that the (super)natural world is doing everything in its power to stop him.

Alpha by Nival_Vixen

(1/1 I 2,357 I Explicit)

Stiles has been kidnapped by a serial killer known only as Alpha. Stiles finds himself far too attracted to the man that's probably going to kill him.

No one called, until someone did. by queen_of_OTPs

(1/1 I 4,419 I Mature)

Stiles found that he hadn’t spoken more than necessary since August. Gone were the rambling rants, extravagant gestures, and range of vocal tones. Monotone sentences that were cut with sharp edges, words like knives and tone like venom.

No one had called.

Mindset of a Killer by buftie

(1/3 I 7,363 I Explicit)

Troubled youths Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale meet in the counselor's office and form a haphazard relationship. They realize they share urges and desires they dare not speak to others - guns, knives, blood, and even murder. Soon the two are overwhelmed by their attempts to satiate their bloodlust and find themselves wanted criminals.

A Second Chance at Life by DaoOfGay

(4/? I 8,871 I Explicit)

Stiles held onto his bleeding chest as he watched the man who had taken everything from him walk away, as he laid there, on his last breath, he could swear there was a small tear running down Derek Hale's face.

But once he opened his eyes, he was back at the moment his life was destroyed- The moment he woke up on Derek Hale's bed, naked, and not remembering what happened the night prior.

This time he woke up before him. He packed his things and ran, ran as far away as he possibly could not looking back.

Unknowingly, that decision changed the future in a way he could never thought.

Full and Void by Hedwig221b

(2/2 I 23,286 I Explicit)

Stiles could be meek, sure. In Derek’s arms, softened under the touch, pinned under his weight. He allowed himself to relax only in Derek’s sole presence.

Stiles could also look meek. Small, scared. Let the enemies think he was hiding in his mate’s shadow. After all, no one would stop to think that the shadow could ever be dangerous.

Devil in the Details by Accidental_Ducky

(8/8 I 26,473 I Mature)

“So we’ll split up.”

“Baby,” Boyd says, taking her arm in a gentle hold,” that is the single whitest sentence to ever leave your mouth. Splitting up to search for a crazed murderer with no moral compass is a job better left to the police. I say we go upstairs, barricade the basement door closed and hangout in the lobby until help shows up.”

“Derek found a way to break out of a sealed chamber and you think shoving a desk in front of a wooden door will keep him from using our skin as lampshades?”

“I never should have let you watch American Horror Story. Our lives have just gone downhill since then.” Boyd runs a hand over his mouth, scratching absently at the stubble along his jaw before heaving out a sigh. “Fine, we’ll go look for Hale, but we’re sticking together. I’m not about to be the token black guy that gets butchered in some kind of cheesy nineties horror flick.

[thistlearts]

I finally finished the quest with Ansur and I’m so surprised that people say “well that was the moment when I knew I will turn against the Emperor!”

Excuse me but to me Ansur seemed to be a phenomenal asshole not even to Balduran (which was of course he was as most lawful goods eventually do in my opinion, and that’s why I don’t like this alignment ) ,but to Tav!

Spoilers ahead.

He literally treats Tav like dirt. He immediately takes over Tav’a body, in a very rude way, he ignores Tav’a resistance, he literally discards Tav’a free will and agency because he’s too busy with his anger and revenge.

While Tav came to ask for help. In the hardest of time for BG that Ansur swore to protect.

Tav completes the trials, proves to be worthy, and Ansur just throws them around as a puppet and then attacks them because they came along with the Emperor.

I know they are a Zombie Wyrm, but don’t they say that even if their body is dead, their soul is still unbeaten? And so what? Their soul once again decides just to kill someone who doesn’t seem “good enough” or is under a “wrong influence”?

I mean, he can clearly see that Tav still has free will and they are NOT enthralled when he literally rips into Tav’a mind and possesses his body. And they can also see that Tav’a intentions were genuine. They didn’t mean to harm Ansur or to use him for evil. And what does Tav get?

An assault on their conscience and then an attack without even trying to talk. Maybe persuade Tav that the Emperor is a bad ally. “Dear Ansur” doesn’t even consider Tav worthy of a conversation before trying to kill them.

And I must believe he was on the right when he tried to mercy kill Emperor in his sleep?

No way. This game has taught me that things often are not what they seem and not what we are taught to believe they were.

There’s a not you can find that Ansur was Balduran’s friend and he swore to protect the city until a horrible treason happened.

Well I think the horrible treason was trying to kill your dearest friend in his sleep even though he clearly kept his conscience and asked you to leave and be happy anywhere else if you can’t accept this new form.

Ansur could have at least turn it into a fair duel.

Nothing will convince me trying to mercy kill someone you love in their sleep is anything but a horrible treason. But anyhow, even if Ansur was really as good as everyone believes him to be, and Balduran was not wrong about him (which might be true, I hope it's true), after his death his anger completely took over his soul. And he lost himself it to it. Ironically, he's much less of who he was and what he cared for, than Emperor who's an Illithid for a very long time. Because Emperor still genuinely cares for Baldur's Gate and wants to protect it. While all Ansur wants is revenge for someone who literally didn't want to be slaughtered. And he's completely fine with killing a total stranger who came seeking help and actually proved to be a worthy hero. What a heart of gold he has, oh my oh my.