#he's so toxic what a bastard lol

[shannonsketches]

I also have noticed the similarities between Nabooru and the Gerudo Sage of Lightning. And my goodness, it would make the story so much more FIERY if it really were her. The DRAMA between those two seasoned warriors, those two mature lovers who still have so much passion, who found themselves on opposing sides of the conflict. LIKE COME ON.

This is essentially my vibe with the ship in OoT! But, god, yeah, between the sages participating in actual combat and Gan's physical transformation in TotK, it is such a solid and painful (good) version of the story.

Almost called it an AU. Is it an AU? I guess it is, depending on how you look at the games, haha.

But yeah I am not gonna lie I've had backburner brainrot about it for the last couple weeks.

My current vibe on TotK NabsGan Conflict/Fallout (especially with the thought of the mohawk Gerudo woman also being Nabooru, just at an earlier part of her life) is Nabs does not agree with the Zonai or want to participate in or enable their work -- but after witnessing what the secret stones could do to a herd of Molduga? That's not something she's willing to risk happening to her people, and they simply don't have the kind of power to defend against it. And logically, Rauru is only really asking for a centralized alliance with some egotistical semantics, right? They can negotiate terms, he seems reasonable enough with the other countries.

Gan, however, thinks that's bullshit. He's been at war for so long, he's watched these people waste their shoddy technology in the desert over and over again, and the earlier ones were't subtle about what they wanted from the land. He's also killed a ton of them, enough to be considered a hero to his people, and he knows Rauru wants revenge for it. The egotistical semantics are personal, the invitation is a sleight. They're being held hostage under the illusion of free will, and Gan knows there is only one of two things standing between his people and oblivion: Either complete compliance, or getting one of those stones.

So he lies, and publicly goes with option A while privately pursuing option B. Like my OoT headcanons, Nabs realizes something's Wrong when he's spending so much time in Hyrule. Sonia's death becomes the trigger for her to start working against him, and his radical transformation (both physical and mental) pushes her onto the other team out of necessity, and she convinces other Gerudo to do the same. Rauru's magics were terrifying, and Ganon's are worse. But Rauru was at least pretending to be, if he was not genuinely, willing to negotiate. Ganon is not. The anger and power have combined to create a creature of extremes.

They both just wanted their people to survive and be okay. But Ganondorf as a King was already an intense and dedicated warrior, and now he can't be calmed or reasoned with. He will not stop until he's destroyed his enemy, and now his loyalty seems to lie with the ruined and the damned, so she might as well accept a boon and defend what's left of her world.

Because, look, from her perspective, even if Gan IS only attacking Gerudo colonies that are working with (or even just favorable toward) Hyrule, it's horrific that he would destroy his people at all. And as much as she might have loved to trust him otherwise, he got this way by lying to everyone. So what's to say his favor is authentic, or permanent? There's no way of knowing what this stone will do to him in the long run.

There's also the possibility that he might not even be able to control it well at this point! His destruction, while conscious and intentional, could be a hyper-reactive emotional breach from someone who is usually highly disciplined. He might be overwhelmed by this sudden and unrelenting flow of power. But she can't risk betting that a god-king who is currently setting the entire country on fire will level out at some point.

And even if she wanted to, even if she wanted to believe this wasn't really him or what he wanted, she and the other Gerudo might not be alive to find out. She can't afford to wait and see! None of them can!

So even if it means mines and waste and clunky invasive technology, at least if she agrees to join Rauru, her people might survive this. They might maintain some control over their home. If absolutely nothing else, it's literally all she can do to try and keep them alive.

But Ganon doesn't see it that way. It's betrayal, and she's wrong. But, if it is truly her wish to die fighting for what she believes, then it is his sacred obligation to ensure that she does.

[ambreiiigns]

btw rick and morty makes me insane bc no one Gets it people who don't wanna watch it (like me! before my brother made me watch it in exchange of him watching sk8 the infinity w me!) are like ugh problematique bad #edgy dark humor adult cartoon for reddit bros 🙄 but then the reddit bros who watch it & became the main representatives for its audience are like haha pickle rick wooo you need high iq I Relate To Rick Sanchez Deeply and he's like the joker to them and he's a king and an icon of alpha males somehow???? but like. neither of those people understand that rick and morty is actually about Nobody Exists On Purpose. Nobody Belongs Anywhere. Everybody's Gonna Die. Come Watch TV?

[osachiyo]

'TRYNA GET YOUR BABY MAMA FULL OF THAT DICK !

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — jing yuan, blade, luocha x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — n/sfw content, cheating, squirting, dumbification, neglect (from the husband), overstimulation, toxic relationships, dirty talk, petnames, reader is married, cucking, cowgirl, possessiveness (blade), vouyerism, luocha is your family doctor, etc • i never thought id write something like this but here we are lol anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & not proofread

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"bounce on me just like that, baby," jing yuan groaned, palming the fat of your ass as you rode him on your husband's couch. "s'big — you're so big, ji," you bit your lip, trying your best to suppress any moans — not wanting your neighbours to suspect anything.

"yeah? even bigger than him?" a sleazy grin adorned jing yuan's lips, your back arched so sinfully as he thrusted up into you. "ngh —!" you threw your head back, clawing his broad shoulders with your pretty nails, that your husband paid for you to get done.

"answer me, sweet girl," he whispered, fondling your bouncing tits before pulling and pinching at your hardened nipples. "d-don't tease!" you swatted at his hand, which only made him pinch harder.

" 'm not teasing, so serious right now baby," his droopy eyes were glinting with mischief — he knew he looked good. you gasped when his hand reached down to flick and rub at your clit, licking his lips at the way you clenched down on his cock.

"gonna cum, pretty?" he captured your lips in a heated kiss before you could even answer him — as if he already knew what you were gonna say. you could practically feel your eyes rolling from the pleasure behind your closed lids, pussy gushing all over his thighs and abdomen — drenching his cock in your juices.

" yesyesyes — 's so big, so much bigger than him —!" you babbled into the messy kiss, back arching even more and pressing your tits against his own chest —

"that's what i thought."

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

muffled grunts of complaint escaped your husband's gagged mouth, hard cock straining against the rough fabric of his slacks.

"enjoying the view, cheating piece of shit?" blade had you spread eagle on you and your soon-to-be ex husband's shared bed — with you chanting his name like a prayer everytime his cock hit that one spot with unbelievable precision.

"mmph!" your husband growled — veins popping out from his forehead as he tried his best not to hump the air. fuck, you looked borderline delirious getting split open by your co-workers cock; pupils dilated with lust — practically having hearts swimming in your eyes for blade.

"look at 'em, baby — look at how fuckin' hard the bastard is," he forcibly turned your head over to your husband and the man almost didn't recognise you — tongue lolling out with each heavy thrust from blade, sweat dripping down your sinful body.

you didn't even pay attention to the tied-down man — all too focused on the way blade's thick cock rearranged your guts. "see how she turns into a dumb little slut for my dick?" blade spat, cockiness dripping from his words — sharp hipbones digging into the soft skin of your thighs with each slam of his hips.

"who does this pussy belong to?" blade turned your head back to face him, licking the tears that rolled down your heated cheeks. "y-you! all yours — it belongs to you!" you babbled mindlessly, causing a devilish smile to appear on blade's lips —

"oh yeah? and what's my name?"

"bladeee—! oh fu-fuck, bla-de!" you cried out before spraying your juices all over him — some of it even coating his abs.

"good fuckin' girl."

𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"are you sure you wanna do this?" luocha whispered against your lips, his minty breath filling your senses. "please," you begged, rolling your hips on his lap to show your want — no, need for the blonde man.

it's not like your husband was a good man either — always out drinking and partying, while you stayed at home. alone. he brushed you off everytime you asked about the lipstick stains on his collar — saying you were being dramatic, you were sick of it. could he really blame you for wanting luocha? the young, handsome family doctor — who was also a gentleman at heart.

"i've got you," luocha's smooth, velvety voice cut off your train of thought, a gloved hand tilting your chin up before pressing his lips to yours. his other hand found purchase at your hip, before snaking up to wrap itself around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

you couldn't help but moan into the kiss — he was certainly good at this, better than your husband, at least. luocha was elegant but warm — the complete opposite of your husband, who was rough and neglectful. the softness of the kiss had you melting in his touch.

a gasp left your lips when luocha flipped you over, your back now turned to him while you laid on your tummy. "luocha.." you all but whined, pushing your ass back against his rigid cock, earning a soft groan from him. he pushed your sundress up, bunching the thin fabric at your waist — "no panties?" he mused, landing a playful slap on your plush ass. gloved hands found your cunt before you could answer, rubbing your bare folds.

an amused chuckle left the man once he felt how damp you were, "already this wet? hmm.. the mister has been neglecting you quite a bit, hasn't he? worry not, i will take great care of you."

©osachiyo— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

[sansaorgana]

— THE FAVOURITE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — As Feyd-Rautha's favourite concubine, your position is threatened after his affair with Lady Margot.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Once again I couldn't help myself and created some twisted & toxic dynamic between Feyd and The Reader full of mind games and scheming lol 😏 Thank you @little-diable for "letting me" to write this story. 🌹 I reached out to her after getting this request since she has a similar (and amazing) fanfic – "Guilt".

WARNINGS — Reader is some sort of a slave/servant, harm to Lady Margot and her child mentioned, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut)

WORD COUNT — 3,520

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE FAVOURITE

Being Feyd-Rautha’s favourite concubine made your position on Giedi Prime secure. Coming from nothing and having no drop of noble blood flowing in your veins, you ended up with a luxurious bedroom and your own team of servants. Baron Harkonnen allowed this arrangement only because of the little agreement between you and him – you were to spy on his nephew and your servants were doing the job when you personally could not. The stench of schemes and lies surrounded the fortress like a thick fog.

So, when your lover didn’t come to you after his own birthday party – even though you were waiting for him all dressed up and prepared – you wanted to know why. Your servants came back to you quickly, bringing you the news of Feyd-Rautha spending the night in a guest wing. In the bedroom of Lady Margot Fenring, to be exact. A known Bene Gesserit sister.

Concubines had no right to be jealous. They knew their place. Noblemen couldn’t marry a random woman they favoured just because of some sort of affection or sentiment. They had to keep their options open in case a political union would be proposed. And apart from that, noblemen had their responsibilities when it came to the Bene Gesserit order and their own plans and schemes. You knew enough to have a feeling what Lady Margot wanted from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. To secure his bloodline.

Concubines didn’t exist to secure bloodlines – unless the circumstances were desperate. But usually, concubines existed to bear bastards.

You tore your dress off of your body, removed the jewellery and let it fall down on the cold, black marble as it shattered. The servants watched with terror in their eyes as tiny pieces of gemstones scattered all over the floor. You told them all to leave but they were petrified. So you yelled, you gave an order. And only when you were left alone, you allowed yourself to lay on your bed and cry.

You had sacrificed nearly everything to be in this position. Losing the title of Feyd-Rautha’s favourite concubine meant death to you. You knew what he was doing to the toys he was getting bored of. In fact, you often encouraged those acts. Now, you had to face a threat of becoming the next tossed aside pet.

You were finishing your breakfast when Feyd entered your chambers without a word or a knock upon the doors. He was the only person allowed such entrance and all your servants stiffened at the sight of him, bowing their heads and taking a few steps back. You decided to ignore him as you were sipping on your beverage and staring at the large painting on the wall in front of you. It was a landscape from your homeplanet. Or rather, how it had used to look like before The Harkonnen invasion and occupation.

As a little girl, you had been taken with others to Giedi Prime and forced to become a servant. Your hair had been shaved, the back of your neck tattooed with a Harkonnen sigil like you were a slave. Slaves died like flies on this court. Befriending the young na-baron had been your only chance of survival. And once you both had been old enough, the friendship developed into a romance. But sometimes, when you were forgetting yourself – too drunk on your own influence these days – you would touch the back of your neck and trace the tattooed mark. You had long hair again, covering it from the world. But you knew it was there. You were only a servant that had been promoted because of a spoiled boy’s whim.

“I have news for you, pet,” Feyd-Rautha stood above you with a proud smirk, showing off his black teeth.

You continued to ignore him and it made the smile turn into a frown.

“What is it?” He asked but you still refused to lay your eyes on him.

“I know where you were last night,” you finally decided to address the matter as you lazily leaned back on the chair and looked up at his face. He snorted at you.

“Not the first time I spent a night with another woman. Having a title of my favourite whore means that you are one of many – not the only one,” he reminded you and your jaw clenched at his choice of words.

“Not every night is your birthday. And not every woman is a Bene Gesserit witch,” you stood up angrily. “And I am not a whore.”

“Concubine is only a nicer way to put it but you’re big enough to handle the truth, pet,” Feyd was angered, you could sense that. But he was still amused by your little tantrum.

“Leave us,” you ordered to the servants and they bowed down before walking out of the chambers as fast as possible.

“What do you expect me to say? That I’m sorry?” Feyd’s voice was full of contempt as he observed your pacing around with squinted eyes. “I am not tied to you by any word nor oath.”

“What did she want?” You asked him and he shut his mouth. “She wanted to secure the bloodline, did she not?”

Feyd did not say anything and that was an answer for you. You nodded and walked away to stand by the window and gaze upon the cityscape of Giedi Prime. 

“I didn’t have a choice. And I probably will never even see that child. They mean nothing to me and will never be recognised as my heir. What does it matter to you?” Feyd tried to explain himself awkwardly as he sat by the table and put his feet up on the surface in a careless manner.

“Did she use The Voice on you?” You turned around to look at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yes,” Feyd nodded, looking away. “Does it change anything?”

“It changes everything to me,” you approached him to stand behind and put your hands on his tense shoulders. “They keep using you. Your uncle all this time, now her. And you just shake it off and pretend it’s no big deal but it is, Feyd-Rautha. Have you ever been able to make your own decision? Even choosing me as your favourite had to be accepted by The Baron.”

“Don’t pretend to suddenly care about me,” Feyd barked at you. “You’re spying on me for him.”

“Because I have to,” you whispered.

“And I have to do some things, too, which makes us fair,” he shrugged his arms and you let your hands fall to your sides again. You watched him reach for an orange as he began to peel it slowly in silence.

He was right but it was not enough for you to know that he was right. You were still raging inside; filled with jealousy and betrayal even though you had no right to feel these things. Swiftly, you reached out for a short knife that Feyd always carried by his waist. He was so relaxed and trustful around you that his reflexes didn’t catch on your actions. 

You pressed the tip of the blade to the back of his neck, the exact same spot where your tattoo was.

“I wish I could mark you as my own, too,” you whispered and he only chuckled, not fearing the knife at all.

“Do it then, pet. If that brings you relief, that is,” he dared you. “The pain will be welcomed.”

“I can’t do it,” your hand shivered as you lowered it.

“Then don’t threaten me with empty promises,” Feyd barked as he turned around rapidly and grabbed your wrist. He twisted it painfully, making you drop the knife as you hissed out of pain. “I don’t belong to you,” he reminded, his voice cold and sharp. You winced at the pain shooting up your arm but refused to show weakness.

“And I don't belong to you either,” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt you had been suppressing. “If I am to live here my whole life like a slave, kill me then.”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other with hatred and passion as the tension crackled between you two like electricity. Finally, Feyd released your wrist with a dismissive shove, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference.

"Fine," he spat. "I am to inherit Arrakis and you are not coming with me. Stay here and rot, find yourself a new Master or leave, I do not care," he informed you and left your chambers just like that.

You were still standing there, petrified, as you blinked a few times before the meaning of his words made sense to you. He was abandoning you… but you couldn’t blame him. You showed weakness of your jealousy and that was something concubines were not supposed to do. Instead of playing your cards right, you snapped. And now there was no turning back from that mistake.

Your privileges were not gone overnight but everyone could see that something was wrong. While Feyd-Rautha was preparing to leave for Arrakis, you were not preparing at all. Your servants were nervous since their position depended on your own. And you were trying to work on a plan to be back in your lover’s good favours.

But The Baron was quicker than that. He requested your presence a few days before his nephew’s departure. You expected a punishment but, surprisingly, he was not as angry as you thought him to be.

“You lost the grip,” he informed you in his raspy voice, taking a puff of his pipe.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” you bowed down, nervously; humiliated.

“I should get rid of you. I’ve heard my nephew granted you freedom but we both know you have nowhere to go anyway,” The Baron pointed out and you swallowed thickly at his words.

“If I was only given one more chance…” You dared to look up.

“That is what I want to grant you,” he nodded as your eyes widened. Baron Harkonnen was not known for being generous or forgiving. “You see, on Arrakis I will need a spy next to Feyd-Rautha. Someone I trust. And you… We’ve worked for quite a long time now. You have never disappointed me nor showed any sign of disloyalty towards me. Looking for someone new, especially for such an important task… It would not be advised. I need you on Arrakis with Feyd-Rautha,” The Baron pointed his chubby hand at you.

“I understand, my Lord. But… He does not want me there. Not as his concubine at least,” you looked down, ashamed that you had to admit it out loud.

“That boy will soon start missing you. But we can’t wait until then,” The Baron agreed. “Since he has carelessly given you freedom already and you’re no longer a servant, I can promote you, child,” The Baron hummed to himself as you tilted your head out of curiosity – Feyd-Rautha’s habit you had picked up from him a long time ago.

Because your whole life had been about being his companion. It was about mimicking his behaviour and learning how to make him happy. Now, when he was somehow gone from your daily life routine, it felt oddly empty and pointless. It was painful to realise that Feyd-Rautha was your reason to live and your position as his concubine defined not only your position on Giedi Prime but also your whole life and personality.

“You will be sent to Arrakis as The Fremen Expert,” The Baron informed you and you couldn’t help letting out a little laugh.

“The Fremen Expert, my Lord? I do know nothing of them and their customs,” you reminded him.

“And we do not care about them nor their customs. We want nothing but annihilation of their race. But what we also want… What we need… Is your presence on Arrakis. Feyd-Rautha will be informed that you must take part in every council, in every meeting; making decisions alongside his generals,” The Baron whispered and you straightened yourself, suddenly feeling a bolt of electricity going through your veins. From feeling like a beaten dog, you began to feel confidence and pride in your new role, even if the title was made up for The Baron’s scheming plan.

“Yes, my Lord,” you bowed down with all respect.

“Now, go, prepare yourself for the trip,” he dismissed you and you turned around to walk away with your head held high.

Feyd-Rautha kept avoiding you but those few times you saw him in the corridor, he was giving you hateful looks. He had to be not very pleased with his uncle’s decision. You gained the courage to finally talk to him in private when you were on the ship to Arrakis, locked together in space with nowhere to run. Forced to spend time together since the ship was not as huge as the Giedi Prime fortress.

You chose the nighttime for this. In the evenings he was more vulnerable – you had learnt that over the years spent by his side. You entered his room on the ship without any guard stopping you as they knew your role in this mission. The Baron had given them direct orders to never stop you when you were about to spy on the na-baron.

Feyd was not in the room yet, so you waited, sitting on the armchair and nervously playing with the rings on your fingers.

“What are you doing here?” You finally heard his raspy voice after the doors opened. Feyd walked inside, visibly irritated at the sight of you. “Congratulations, you’re a full-time spy now. What a promotion,” he sneered. “Still his puppet.”

“And you’re not? His puppet?” You sneered back. “How does it feel to not be able to get rid of your own concubine just because The Baron does not approve? I told you. You can’t even choose the whores for yourselves,” you stood up to approach him but he walked away.

“You’ve sealed your fate, pet. Once I become The Baron myself, I am going to kill you,” he ignored your presence and began undressing to change into his nighttime attire. As if you were only an air in the room but it also meant that he still felt comfortable around you and allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to step out of his armour and expose. He trusted you, still.

“It’s not like I’m that valuable to your uncle. If you killed me now, he would be frustrated. But he wouldn’t even punish you for that,” you shrugged your arms. “So why won’t you kill me now?” You teased as you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Come here,” Feyd ordered as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

You walked up to him, a little scared of what was inside his head at that moment but you tried not to show it. You had mastered the act of not showing fear around him already. He hated cowardice and vulnerability only inspired him to be even more cruel.

“Since I can’t get rid of you, there’s still use of you, is it not?” He smirked as he looked up at you. “Please me, pet,” he ordered.

“I am no longer your concubine,” you pointed out, trying to keep a poker face on and a straight back. The truth was, you missed him. You missed his touch, you missed the intimacy, you missed how safe you felt with his arms around you. You missed the nights when he would fall asleep in your bed. But you couldn’t fall back so easily. He liked to chase, he liked to play. And you had gotten the title of his favourite because you knew how to provide it. “You dismissed me. I am The Fremen Expert now,” you added and he laughed contemptuously.

“The Fremen Expert, and what is that exactly, my little one?” He teased, pulling you closer by your waist. “And what do you know of these savages? You’ve been trained in different arts.”

“What sort of arts, na-baron?” You asked, placing your fingers on his muscular shoulders to keep steady on your feet.

“Pleasure,” he sat you down on his lap and you joined your hands together behind his neck. “I missed your cunt,” he whispered into your ear, his fingers pulled on the fabric of your dress around your hips, exposing your thighs.

“You forget yourself, my Lord,” you teased with a smirk as he looked up, questioningly. “You see, in your anger, you set me free. You released me and I am no longer your servant. I am my own person now,” you reminded him.

“I am still your lord na-baron,” he reminded you. “And I shall do as I please with you.”

“But having me back in your bed will cost you. I am not free of charge anymore,” you stopped his hands and watched his expression carefully. His jaw clenched and his gaze hardened with anger and curiosity.

“What do you want?” He asked harshly.

“Depends on how much you are willing to pay to feel my sweet cunt again,” you tilted your head.

You knew that it was just a game and he knew it, too. Because he didn’t need your permission. Feyd-Rautha didn’t care if you were his servant or a free woman now. He didn’t care if you gave him your permission or not. He was free to take what he wanted. Because that was his nature and that was the harsh reality of The Harkonnens.

“You want money?” Feyd could not hide the sheer disappointment in his voice. He had thought better of you. But you only laughed at his accusation.

You needed to take a deep breath in to say out loud what you wanted. It required lots of bravery for a woman in your position to say.

“I want to bear your heir,” you told him.

“Impossible,” Feyd pushed you aside on the mattress as he moved away from you. “Is it part of his plan?”

“He doesn’t know. He would kill me if he knew,” you assured him, truthfully. “He wants you for Princess Irulan, I think.”

“He mentioned to me he would make me an Emperor. But he didn’t mention how. I don’t think I have to marry her. We are strong enough to just take the throne with force,” Feyd told you. “I don't want her. But you cannot bear me heirs. Only bastards. Is that what you want? To push out my bastards?” He asked as he hovered over you to intimidate you, looking intensely into your eyes.

“Bastards, then. Let it be,” you nodded, swallowing thickly, confusing him. “I’d rather give you bastards and live on crumbs than to be dismissed like in the past few weeks.”

Suddenly, his face softened, confusing you as much as you were confusing him. Feyd caressed your cheek with gentleness that was unusual for him.

“Do you know why you are my favourite?” He asked in a whisper.

“Because I know how to play the way you like it,” you answered.

“No,” he shook his head. “Because you actually like me.”

You didn’t know what to say to this confession. It caught you off guard, surely. And Feyd leaning in to place a kiss upon your lips – a soft, delicate kiss that you had only shared a few times before – that only intensified the feeling of confusion.

“It’s cute to see you jealous, pet,” he breathed out after breaking the unusual kiss. “I swore to myself a long time ago I would never marry even if he forced me to. And my only heirs will be the bastards you bear me.”

You felt warmth in your cheeks at his words. Realising that what you had been asking for did not have to be said out loud. For him it had been obvious for a long time. It was the only way for Feyd-Rautha and you were a fool to ever feel jealous.

“All you have to do,” he added in a mysterious whisper, leaning in to steal another kiss, “is to help me with bringing him down.”

“You fool,” you giggled and cupped his face delicately, confusing him. “It has always been my plan,” you assured him. “And once I have the power of The Emperor’s Concubine, I will hunt down the Bene Gesserit witch and her spawn for I am the only one who shall bear your bastards.”

“You were such an innocent child when you came to Giedi Prime,” Feyd sighed but not without an excited sparkle in his cold eyes. “And look what a monster I have made of you, pet.”

You chuckled at that, relieved to have him back and much more than that – already planning out a future that was even more promising than in your most secret daydreams.

“You taught me well, Master,” you only said and pulled him back down. “But next time you put a child in another woman, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to father any more,” you threatened sweetly before a passionate kiss.

MASTERLIST

[star-suh]

Blackmail

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: top mingyu, rough sex, blackmailing, mingyu is a father as if he has a kid and a wife and an asshole too, toxic masculinity(?) is just a comment mingyu says),cheating, y/n is a closeted gay, car sex, feminization, unprotected sex, tummy bulge.

an: so i finally could finish this but my perfectionism is telling that could've been better lol.

—

y/n is a teacher at the local high school and one of his students is a pain in the ass, not paying attention, throwing paper balls, bothering his classmates. one day fed up with this, y/n scolds him "hey you brat, what are you doing?. you think just because your parents have money you can do whatever you want?", "hell yeah" the bastard replied cockily. y/n just laughed and rolled his eyes "you're a typical daddy and mommy's boy hiding insecurities behind all that money… so i ask you to leave the classroom and go to the principal. oh and you can't come back to class until your parents come do you hear me?" yelling that last one part. the boy told that to his parents overexaggerating things so they can 'punish' the teacher. mingyu, the dad, decided to investigate about him and use that information as a way to blackmail him, he found out that y/n frequents a gay bar and after that he always leaves with a man to a motel.

"hello mr. kim" welcomed the teacher "i told you to come here to talk about your son's behavior. he's very disrespectful towards me and his classmates and that's not ok" mingyu was just listening to everything with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed "that's all?" he laughs "here mr. y/n" mingyu handles an envelope to y/n he opens it and it's full of pics of him with men and there's even a flash drive "your blowing skills are good mr. y/n how much do you think this would cost?" he asks tapping the object.

"please don't spread these pics anywhere.. i beg" said the teacher scared "i won't say something to your son ever again.. or… or if you want i can leave the school ye-yeah that's it i'm quitting the job here just… just destroy this pics please" y/n grabbed the man by the hands "why you're so worried about this? you could be a good star in the porn world". "no one knows about it" y/n lowered his head "please… no one needs to know this…" his hands were shaking trying to convince mingyu. "so you'll do everything i want right?" mingyu tapped his chin with his fingers "listen i will talk to my son and tell him to behave a little more but in exchange you have to met me tomorrow night, give me your number i'll send you the address later" mingyu winks and leaves…

y/n was now sitting besides mingyu in his car, "so what do you want me to do?" asked a sad y/n, mingyu passed his phone to y/n in where his video was playing "watching that video got me so fucking hard" he palmed the growing bulge on his pants he then unzipped it and pull his cock out "i want to feel that pretty mouth of yours around my cock too. suck it" he whispered guiding y/n towards his cock, "fuck so wet and warm" grunted mingyu, y/n started to feel dizzy smelling mingyu's musky cock. "such a perfect cock" muttered y/n worshiping every vein, the thick shaft, the size of it, "look at you, I thought you would put on a fight but you already gave in to me. pathetic bitch" laughed the rich man who started to mouthfuck y/n at a harsh pace.

some minutes have passed and mingyu's cock was dripping with y/n's thick saliva, mingyu stopped y/n from sucking his balls "c'mon let's go to the back seats" there mingyu discarded his pants and leaned on his back "let me taste that used pussy" y/n obeyed an accommodate himself in a 69 position so he can keep sucking mingyu while he eat his ass out. mingyu started with doing circles with his fingers on y/n's rim, then spat on it and introduced the first finger "mmh is indeed warm" then he introduces a second finger.. the third and lasty a fourth one all of them knuckles deep going in and out "i'm started to get why everyone on that bar wants this pussy is so fucking tight. more than my wife's" mentioned mingyu, "hngh" moaned y/n with his mouth full of cock. grabbing him by the waist mingyu lifted y/n and started to eat his ass enjoying how it clenchez every time he introduces his tongue "such a tasty manpussy"...

mingyu groped y/n's chest and started playing with his nipples, tweaking and pinching them to get those pretty moans out of y/n's mouth then used his mouth to lick and bite them 'he's moaning a lot… i guess this is a sensitive part for him… kinda like it' thought mingyu.

now tapping his cock's head on y/n's clenching hole mingyu was getting ready to pound him "please wait… use a condom i've never done it without one" pleaded y/n, "fuck off you're not the one in charge here i'm gonna breed your manpussy you like it or not" mingyu grunted putting the cock's tip already inside "that also means that i'm gonna mark this pussy as mine" an in one thrust he put it all at once forming a bulge on y/n's lower tummy "woah look at that" he laughed "you're took it balls deep not like my wife she can barely take half of it" he whispered that last part licking a stripe from y/n's nipple to his ear. both stayed like that for a moment until mingyu started to move every thrust being harsher than the last one "please be more gentle" squirmed y/n pressing his hand against mingyu's stomach trying to stop him but he quit it "don't be boring dude, you're a man just endure it and let me enjoy your pussy" he then pulls out and spat on his shaft and sucked y/n's hole introducing his cock right after repeating the action during some minutes.

"tell me how it feels" demanded mingyu putting his hand around y/n's neck, applying some pressure and moving his hips quite gently to make y/n feel good "it's sooo big… it feels so good how it stretches me… i like.. i like how it is throbbing inside me… can't wait to feel your cum" that's when mingyu realized y/n was already his. "so you want my cum inside you that bad huh?. what a whore. then be my side pussy and i'm gonna pump you up every day with my warm sperm" a dizzy y/n just kissed mingyu as a way to said yes, he was desperate, mingyu is making him feel things no one ever has. y/n knew what he was doing was wrong but the pleasure was immense… he just wanted more and more.

mingyu was now fucking y/n in a quite uncomfortable doggy style position pressing the bottom's head against the window with his hand, traces of saliva and sweat being smeared in the glass everytime mingyu thrusted harshly. with a loud grunt and a last hard thrust mingyu came inside y/n “don't you dare to waste any drop you whore. keep it all inside your pussy” the top rode his high with a couple of last thrusts.

he pulls out and start using his fingers to scoop the cum and put it back inside the gaping hole, savouring the delicious wet sounds “you have a taste pussy professor. glad it's all mine now… right?” mingyu licked his ear waiting for his response, “yeah” it's the only thing that comes out of y/n's mouth, his tired self just enjoying mingyu's breath ghosting over his neck. “good boy” mi gyu added kissing his forehead and then driving towards a hotel.

the next day y/n woke up in a hotel room, his lower back in so much pain with a note on his side that reads a number that y/n calls “hello?”, “good morning slut” mingyu's sexy voice answers “i have some news for you… i won't spread these pictures of you but in exchange i want to keep fucking your pussy, my wife's it's not as thight as yours and also i can breed you as much as i want. so… deal?” y/n hesitates but eventually responds “...deal” hanging up the call while gathering his things to go home. on the other side of the call mingyu just laughs and lick his lips while driving towards his job.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 2 : Esmerelda Variation

Heaven's outfit at the match:

Note: Thank you for the insane amount of love you guys are showing this. This is still a ground work laying chapter so still a little short but with a bit of drama. I should warn that just like the characters from the movie, Heaven is going to be ambiguous. Sometimes she'll be great, sometimes she'll be toxic (you have to remember she's best friends with Tashi for a reason). Anyways, you will get to know her as the story goes on. Thank you for all of the likes, follows, reblogs and notes, I really love hearing from you all and will be responding to them today. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I wrote it in the middle of the night lol. (P.s. I have a bad track record with tag lists but I'm going to try, let me know if it works.)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams

“You remember when you said you’d let me win this one?”

“That was a lifetime ago.”

Art whips his head to look at Patrick who’s staring out onto the currently empty court, leaning back on the bench with his elbows. “But what about my grandmother?”

“You better hope she has a stroke.” the brown haired man shrugs, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I mean Tashi Duncan is gonna be watching. Tennis princess. And her hot friend. Can’t fuck up, sorry man.”

Art just shakes his head and takes a swig of water. Two hours had passed since this morning’s run-in and he still hadn’t been able to force himself to tell Patrick about the fact that Heaven’s number was on the line too. It’d only be fair, he knows that. But…Art really didn’t want Patrick to have it.

He should’ve just asked her for it directly instead of hiding behind this performance in interest in getting it from her. But he’d been thrown off. He’d truthfully thought he wouldn’t be able to see her again after she announced she had a boyfriend to the group. When he saw her on the beach that morning he found himself jogging down to catch her, and struggling to keep pure thoughts as she talked to him in her skimpy workout gear, telling him she’s single now. 

She was just so pretty. The sweat and the morning sun made her skin glisten. Her smile on her face made her cheeks dimple cutely and drew his attention to her soft lips. And she had this look in her eye. She and Tashi are so different yet so alike. She was asking him if competing was how he wanted to get her number. He was asked to make the choice. But it was the challenge he found swimming in her gaze. Like, there was only one right answer, that she expected him to be able to make the decision himself. Like if he shied away now, the little fire he saw in her eyes would die. 

Heaven was just as into this as Tashi was. 

The thought of her giving that look to Patrick too, it was something he couldn’t handle.

“Shame about that boyfriend though…wonder if it’s serious…Art. Art?” 

Art jolts out of his inner thoughts and focuses on his friend opening his breakfast sandwich next to him. “D’you think Heaven’s relationship is serious? I feel like she was flirting a little. Poor bastard. Sending his girl on the road without him when she looks like that? Fuckin’ idiot. And she’s a dancer, do you know what that means?” Patrick asks, holding the sandwich out for Art to take a bite, smiling when he does and swiping his thumb across his mouth to rid him of some crumbs.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“She’s fuckin’ flexible, Arthur.” He growls, a smirk on his face. “She’s bendy and shit.”

Art’s lip curls in disgust as he shoves his friend, huffing out an irritated laugh when he’s shoved back. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about her like that. Either of them, they’re people, jesus, Patrick.”

“Yes, exactly. Beautiful people. That I would like to fuck.”

“You’re a great guy, man, really.” he sighs sarcastically, tossing his arm around Patrick’s shoulder.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”

Heaven is quiet as she lets Tashi guide her to their seats in the center for the Donaldson v. Zweig match. Her friend had been excited all morning, ready to finally see some “real fuckin’ tennis’. Heaven was excited too. She’s always enjoyed watching people she knows do what they’re passionate about. 

That’s why she’s always loved watching Tashi play tennis. Tashi plays tennis like she’s making love and going to war all at the same time. She leaves everything on the court, like each match is the last thing she’ll ever do. She goes somewhere, and Heaven likes going with her. Passion is what moves her. She’s passionate about dance. A life without it is meaningless.

“You good?” Tashi asks, nudging her knee with her own, grabbing Heaven’s attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

The taller girl shrugs, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with pursed lips. “Just making sure you’re not letting that dickhead Trevor get to you. He’s a waste of time and space in your brain. Can’t play basketball for shit and doesn’t know when to stop.” Tashi nudges Heaven again when she rolls her eyes, facing the court. “I mean, you obviously don’t have to listen to me, babe, I just know you’re too good for that shit. Don’t want you to waste your energy.”

That shit. That’s the shit she doesn’t like about Tashi. When she can’t tell if she genuinely is being her best friend, or is jealous that she’s been sharing Heaven’s attention. The condescending demand that Heaven show no weakness regarding someone other than her. Heaven knows Tashi wants what’s best for her. But she doesn’t own her emotions. 

“Said I’m fine, T.” Heaven huffs, ignoring Tashi’s stare out of the corner of her eye and opting to watch the announcer climb the ladder and take position. “By the way, I saw Art this morning. I told him that we could double the stakes. Winner gets your number and mine.” When Tashi’s reaction doesn’t come, Heaven looks at her to see that she’s now facing forward, smiling almost evilly at the court.

“God, this is gonna be so good. Do you know how horny those guys are? They think the winner is gonna end up fucking us together, this is gonna be a real match.”

Heaven goes to respond but pauses as the men begin making their way onto the court, their names echoing in the microphone as they begin placing their bags down. Tashi finishes signing an autograph for a fan sitting behind them and settles back into her seat. 

Both men immediately seek them out in the crowd, two sets of eyes finding the girls sitting in the center. Patrick points his racket in their direction with a cocky smile before turning to take to the court. Art gages their reactions to his friend, watching both women offer smiles to him and offering them his own wave. A bright grin lights his face when they return it. 

“Boys are so easy.” Tashi laughs through her teeth. 

“Very.” Heaven agrees, crossing her legs as she watches the match begin. Both men are working their asses off out of the gate. The ball sails back and forth across the net. Their grunts ring out into the air. Their eyes tense, sweat dripping, breathing heavy. At first, they were being showmen. Both of them stopping, looking to the stands for the girls' approval only working harder when the most they are offered back is a small nod. 

But they got focused. They moved faster. Worked harder. They forgot them and just played some fucking tennis. And it was sexy as hell. For the first time ever, Heaven was experiencing the feeling she gets watching Tashi play. And she was experiencing it watching someone else.

Tashi was enjoying the game immensely. She loves this shit. This is the game she lives for, and she and her best friend had made it more interesting. She grins as she watches the ball go to Patrick, then Art, then back again. Her head swiveled with everyone else’s and she felt happy. Impressed. 

Until she saw Heaven out of the corner of her eye. 

Heaven sitting on the edge of her seat, looking at Patrick then Art then Patrick then Art. She hadn’t looked at Tashi since they started. It’s normal. They’ve watched matches together before, but this look on her face. That was supposed to be Tashi’s look. 

Biting her lip in focus, breathing slightly elevated in the excitement, one hand toying with her name chain on her otherwise bare collar bone as the other clutched the arm of the chair, arched forward, leaning towards them. 

Tashi shakes her head briefly and focuses back on the match, placing one hand on Heaven’s knee. 

Just in case she slipped from her seat. 

When Patrick took his bow, looking through his dark lashes to see Heaven and Tashi’s reactions. Both of them look pleased. Offering him applause as he stands before going to grab his things. 

Art watches in defeat. The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it in irritation. He walks off his adrenaline, pacing between clearing his things from the bench. He feels a heavy hand clap on his back. “Good game, man. I’ll meet you out front, yeah? I’ve got a number to collect.”

“Yeah. Good game.” he says quietly. 

Two. Two numbers. Both. He’s getting both. He deserves neither, and he’s getting Tashi Duncan and Heaven Whitlock. 

Art sits on the competitor’s chair, pulling his shirt off and tossing it over his head to shield himself from the sun as he puts his head back. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there. But he can’t bring himself to get up. To meet Patrick. To watch Tashi know he’s better than him as she gives him her number. To watch Heaven decide that he hadn’t earned the right to want her.

He doesn’t remove the shirt until he hears shoes clacking on the court. He’s expecting to see an employee of the tournament but is shocked to see Heaven standing in front of him with an unenthused look. 

“Oh, good, I thought you were crying.”

“Um, nope.” Art huffs, a wry smile on his face. “That would be a little pathetic, even for me.”

Heaven’s head tilts, her dark, silky hair falling to the side as she does. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and Art hops out of the chair, offering it to her. “How is almost winning pathetic?”

“I didn’t almost win-”

“He didn’t sweep you. You could’ve won. He’s just better today. When Tashi wins, the other person usually doesn’t even get more than one point.” Heaven pushes up into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Art can’t help but reminisce. Her legs are now covered by her light washed jeans, but her bare shoulders remind him of the expanse of glowing skin he’d seen earlier this morning. “The score was close.” 

Art smiles slightly at that. He’s still annoyed he was unable to beat his friend, but her words, while based solely in logic, still managed to be comforting. “So, uh, I bet Patrick was pretty fuckin’ happy to get you and Tashi’s numbers.”

“Oh, he was pretty damn excited.” Heaven laughs. “It was cute.”

Ouch. “Yeah, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it.”

Heaven nods, lips rolling inward as she uses her arms to push herself forward, kicking him lightly with her leg, smiling flirtily when he catches her foot, his large hand encasing her ankle. He rights her gold anklet, turning it so that the cross on it is facing upward before bringing her foot back to the ground. “What about you?”

“What about me? I lost. Fair and square.”

“You did.” she grins, resting her chin in her hand. “But the wager changed this morning didn’t it? I agreed that the winner would get my and Tashi’s numbers, but you had an added requirement, right?”

Art’s brows furrowed in confusion briefly before the realization hits him. “I had to earn it.”

“If you’d won, but didn’t earn the win, I wouldn’t give it to you. I have my opinion. What’s yours? Do you feel like you earned my number today?” 

“You want to give it to me anyway?” 

Heaven shakes her head and hops down from the seat, moving closer to Art and fully expecting him to back up, pleasantly surprised when he just tilts his head down to accommodate her height. “I want you to tell me if today was your best.”

Art breathes out heavily. There’s a part of him that wants to just say ‘fuck it, yes’. He wants to say that's the best he can do, and he did earn her number already. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look her in the face and say he couldn’t do better. He couldn’t have her look at him like he didn’t have potential. “No.”

That’s apparently the right answer, because Heaven offers him a quiet, “Good.” before brushing past him, her arm narrowly missing his, causing the hairs on his skin to stand. 

As he watches the girl prance away from him gracefully, Art bites back his own smirk, looking to the ground and nodding to himself. 

He has some work to do.

“Just tell me. I just wanna know.” Art chews his gum, trying to look nonchalant as possible as he and Patrick make their way onto the courts.

He’d been haunted by the way his friend is seemingly getting joy from being very secretive about what he’s been doing with Tashi and Heaven. He knows he’s been talking to them. He can tell. It’s in the smug looks. The fucking half stories without names. He’s fucking keeping them to himself. Won’t even share their names with him. And in response to Art’s irritation, Patrick smirks. The same stupid fucking crooked smirk that always hides his snide remarks and secrets. Usually, Art has a twin one to match, now, the joke is on him.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are telling me to kiss and tell. You used to be a gentleman, Art.”  Patrick chuckles, grabbing a ball and preparing to serve.

“Just tell me if you slept with either of them.” Art pushes, moving to the opposite side of the net and getting into position. “C’mon, it doesn’t matter. If you’ve slept with Tashi, do a normal serve. Serve like me.” 

Patrick hesitates a bit, shaking his head as he looks at his friend’s determined face. He knows Art is not gonna stop asking. But he’s gonna be so butthurt about the answer. He rolls his choices around in his head, briefly considering if it would piss off the girls for him to talk about it and deciding they wouldn’t care about Art knowing. And, he couldn’t help himself from bragging. 

Setting up the serve and sending the ball sailing over the net, Patrick gives Art the confirmation he was seeking. Art offers him a smile in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and goes to hit the ball, only to see a second one flying past him on his other side.

“Wh-”

Patrick grins again, watching the two balls bounce and roll on the opposite sides of Art. He shrugs, strolling over to the net. “I figured you’d ask about Heaven too.” Holding his hand out in front of Art’s mouth he catches the gum he spits into it. “They…uh fancy themselves a package deal.”

“Really?” Art breathes through the smile he has painted on his face. 

“Yeah.” Patrick squirts water into his mouth. “S’fuckin’ awesome.”

Art just chuckles politely until Patrick turns around to get another ball, using his friend’s distraction to let his smile drop into an aggravated frown.

The next time the whole group is all together is move in week. Heaven and Tashi had somehow convinced the men that even though Patrick was packing up for his tour and Art was also moving in, they needed to help them move into their dorms. They were starting with Stanford today and planned to make their way to UCLA tomorrow to get Heaven’s stuff together. While Art now naturally had Tashi's number because they were going to school together, he and Heaven had stuck to their deal. He hadn't decided what he was going to do to get it. Maybe win a match while she was here visiting in a couple weeks. Or maybe he had to beat Patrick specifically. He didn't know, but he as much as he wants her respect, he was getting sick of waiting.

Both men had removed their shirts in the California heat, carrying Tashi’s tennis equipment, replacement mattress, mini fridge and all ten tons of luggage she brought. 

The women were being helpful too. Heaven was apparently resting her legs in anticipation of her audition tomorrow, and rode comfortably on Patrick’s back up the steps during the first trip from the van. After that the girls had made Tashi’s bed before both climbing onto it and sharing a lollipop as they watched the boys work. 

“No, I want my printer over there.” Tashi calls, popping the candy out her mouth and passing it to Heaven, who is absently scrolling on her phone when she drags it into hers.

“Next time, I want green apple.”

Patrick drops the printer on the desk and turns to them. “You know, people hire movers for stuff like this. Where’s your dad?”

Tashi just ignores him, leaning her head over to look at whatever Heaven is staring at on her phone.

“Men used to build houses, you know.” Heaven says, tilting the device so Tashi can see better. The latter nodding at whatever she’s being shown.

“Mm, and go to war.” Tashi sighs boredly, “You guys can’t carry mini furniture?”

Patrick huffs irritably and looks to Art to back him up. “We’re almost done.” The blond shrugs, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“You just like kissing their asses.”

“And you don’t?” Tashi calls from the bed. 

Patrick huffs and lifts the printer again, moving it to where Tashi indicated it should go. Meanwhile, Art moves over to the bed finally done emptying the trolley they borrowed from the university. “What’re you two looking at?”

“I’m helping Heaven decide what piece she should do for her audition in a couple days.” Tashi rolls off of the bed and stretches her muscles, “she’s being stubborn.”

Art’s brows furrow as he looks down at Heaven, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, not reacting to Tashi’s criticism at all. She’d known about that audition since before they met them. He’s shocked to hear she still hasn’t decided on a piece. 

“It’s not being stubborn, Tashi-” the girl pauses her movements at the use of her real name, brow raising. “It’s my audition.”

“Okay. Yeah, I just don’t wanna hear you whine for the next two weeks about how you should’ve done Odile from Swan Lake but pussied out because it’s hard and you know you’d complain.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Exactly, babe, exactly. That’s why I don’t get why you don’t just go set the tone.” Tashi chirps. Her voice does that thing. That thing she does when she's pretending she's being casual about something. Going up an octave to show just how much she doesn't care.

Heaven sits up then, a stern look on her face that can rival the one Tashi gives, both hands planted in the bed as she stares the other girl down. “You don’t think I’ll get the lead with whatever I pick.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A dare. The look she gives dares Tashi to say the wrong thing. 

Patrick and Art don’t know what to do. They’d never seen the girls disagree before. They’re always tag-teaming everyone. Tagging in and out of conversations, finishing each other’s quick remarks, cutting people down with sharp looks together. They’d never seen them face off before.

“I know you’d better get the lead.” Tashi shrugs, flipping her hair over and tying it up with a hair tie.

“I’m gonna. Have I ever not?” Heaven sends back. 

Tashi gives her a noncommittal look before snatching up Patrick’s shirt, tossing it into his hands. “Come hit the ball with me.” 

She offers Art one glance. It’s an invitation, very clearly for everyone except Heaven, who was already turned away on the bed, scrolling on her phone again. 

Patrick and Art have their own wide-eyed, silent conversation, finally settling through gestures. ‘You go with that one, I’ll stay with this one, hopefully no one pitches a fit.’

The dorm room door slips shut and the room is quiet aside from the clock ticking on Tashi’s dresser. A few moments pass before Heaven lets out a loud sigh and rolls over, gasping when she sees Art sitting at the desk on his own phone. “What the fuck?”

His eyes widen as he looks at her. “What?”

“I thought you left with Tashi and Patrick.”

He softens as that, offering her a smile. “And leave you by yourself? Nah. Anyway, we’re gonna be playing tennis everyday for the rest of this semester. Let’s go tour my college campus.”

Heaven looks up at the blond man outstretching his hand to her. Part of it is because she’s pissed at Tashi and didn’t wanna be laying here when she got back, but another part of her thought it might be fun to use this as an opportunity to get to know Art more. 

Since she, Patrick and Tashi started hooking up, she’d decided she was satisfied with keeping the set up she had. She had some fun, they dated, and ultimately, there weren’t many requirements. Her focus was just dance now, she wasn’t looking to waste her time on another boyfriend who wouldn’t work out, and going down the exclusive route with Tashi would get…complicated.

But sometimes she thought about Art. She thought about his cute smile and blond hair. She thought about his voice and muscles. And since the match, she thinks about how he played tennis. She could’ve came from watching him play tennis.

A secret she’ll take to the grave, mind you.

But one that led her to walking around campus with him, despite the fact that she and Tashi had agreed she needed to rest her legs before her audition.

Art told her all about the stuff the guide book talked about, showing her the historic buildings, the dorm he now calls home and the dining hall. And somehow, they ended up in the small theater that’s located on the campus.

He smiles, glancing at her, rocking on his feet as they stand outside the building. 

Heaven rolls her eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder. “Huh. I wonder how we ended up here.

“Couldn’t tell you. Definitely didn’t walk you to this…very small theater on purpose.” Art shrugs. “Probably should go in though.” He says breezily, pushing the door open for Heaven to walk through.

As she steps over the threshold, Heaven’s bad mood nearly dissolves. Her tense shoulders relax and her eyes slip closed. Art watches her all but melt into the environment, her pretty features smooth out as she breathes in deeply. “A theater is a theater. I missed this, traveling with Tashi.”

“I’d bet. I’m sure you don’t get much time to dance when you do that.” He says softly, watching her run her hands along the stage.

“Just drills so I don’t get rusty.” She hums. “I’m gonna end up doing Odile. She’s right, it’s a show stopper, guaranteed lead.”

Art sits in the front, center seat, watching as Heaven pushes her way up onto the stage, sitting on the edge. “I’m sure you’d get it no matter what you did. You’re a beautiful dancer.”

Heaven sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve never seen me dance, Arthur.”

He looks at her with an earnest, almost pleading expression that makes her stomach flip. “Could I? Please?”

“Okay.”

Art hasn’t experienced that much of life yet. He’s young, he’s had the same best friend forever. He went to a boarding school for tennis. He hasn’t traveled the world yet or anything.

But he’s pretty sure he would like to watch Heaven Whitlock dance. 

She was in sweats. Unprepared, with no shoes. Though she denied it, she was clearly nervous that her friend would bust in, see her, and it would start round two of their squabble. But she stretches for a moment before crouching to set up her phone. “Do you know what you wanna see or…”

Art blushes at that, he doesn’t exactly know any ballets. He just wanted to see Heaven in her element. “How about you show me the dance you wanna do.”

There it is. The truth. They both know she’s gonna do the dance Tashi is recommending. But right now she’s not here. And Art wants to see what Heaven would enjoy doing.

“It’s the Esmeralda Variation.” She says, untying her shoelaces before pulling her shoes off altogether. “I need something to kick.”

Art immediately pulls his hat off, tossing it up to her and chuckling as she giggles catching it. One tap on her phone and the muffled music is echoing in the empty theater. 

And she’s moving.

And Art can’t breathe. 

He’s never seen anything like it, like her. The grace. The control she has over her body. He didn’t know people could look like that. He didn’t know balance could be so beautiful. It was like, he didn’t even want to blink. He didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

His eyes tracked her body’s movements with precision, but what they really focused on was her face. He’d never seen perfection like that. Peace like that. This was what Tashi was talking about. This is what she feels with tennis, Heaven has dance. She was in a relationship. With the song. With her body. The floor. The audience. Him. 

Watching Heaven dance felt like witnessing love.

She’s amazing.

The dance was fun, playful, and looked difficult as hell. And she did it with ease.

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stopped, sliding down into a final split with a bright smile on her face. “That’s…you’re beautiful. That’s amazing, what you just did.”

Heaven gives him a pleased look that has him feeling warm. She moves to sit on the edge of the stage, letting her legs dangle as she looks at him. Her hands rest on her knees. “Thanks, Art, that means a lot.”

He shifts in his own seat, leaning forward. He pushes up out of the red theater chair and makes his way over to stand in front of her. “I mean it. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“You’re really good at that, you know.” Heaven says, her voice dropping to a whisper as she looks at him. This is the first time they’ve been face to face before. He’s tall, and imposing despite his accommodating demeanor. She bites her lip and watches his eyes immediately drop before he forces them back to her eyes. “Making people feel good about themselves.”

Art’s startled by the compliment, and immediately starts to laugh it off. Betrayed by the redness of his ears. “You have a gift.” He shrugs. “You should be told you have a gift, all the time.”

He doesn’t know what comes over him. The wave of boldness. It might’ve been that they were alone. Or he was still worked up from what he just witnessed. Or the way Heaven was looking at him, with intensity. Like she saw something. He rests one hand on her leg, feeling smooth skin. And pushes into her space, bringing their faces impossibly closer. Heaven’s big eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, and he smiles.

She wants him to kiss her.

Grabbing his hat from behind her and placing it on his head.

Her eyes open after a beat and she gasps out a laugh, their faces still just a breath apart. “Ha. You’re funny-”

He presses his lips to hers in a brief but deep kiss, pulling away just as she pressed her lips back. “I’m sorry.”

Heaven balls her fist in the front of his shirt, dragging him back to her and making their lips meet again. Their mouths move together in a new dance. Suddenly the room is filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and hums of contentment. Heaven’s hands find their way into Art’s hair as he anchors her waist, pulling her to the very edge of the stage so he can stand between her thighs.

When they pull away their lips cause a loud smack in the dimly lit room. Art’s thumb sweeps over the soft skin of Heaven’s cheek as they both desperately try to catch their breath. Her own hand moves about his curls, smoothing them before sliding to his jaw. Art turns his head to press a kiss to her palm before he speaks.

“Heaven-”

His eyes widen as he sees the girl’s eyes watering, her rose petal lips trembling as she looks at him. Chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She runs her hands through her hair with a stressed look that Art thinks he would do anything to remove.

“Please don’t tell Tashi.”

[anisespice]

“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev.

two

synopsis: aw, your boyfriend hates when he’s around? good.

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, toxic!toman, possessiveness, reader is sort of an enabler, implied cheating, slight angst for the partner (rip lol), open-ended, maybe a little unrealistic?? i think that’s it.

notes: there's just something about them knowing they're the shit & and can't nobody check them for it <333 i don't condone making your partner jealous/uncomfy in real life...but i be kicking my feet when it's in tokyorev lol hope you enjoy!

tagged: @fantasycantasy ( if you'd also like to be tagged in future works, feel free to join my taglist <333)

"Be nice." Famous last words spoken to your boyfriend before you went to greet MIKEY upon his arrival. You were having a little kickback at your place, and it only made sense that your closest friend got to be there as well, despite how they felt about one another.

It went well…for about five minutes.

Now, you stood between them as tensions arose, hands on your boyfriend’s chest to keep him pushed back while Mikey had no issue with fueling the fire, practically daring the bastard to swing first. It didn’t help that they’d drawn in a crowd, drunk instigators no doubt praying for a bloody brawl to liven up the once chill atmosphere. You don’t even know who started it, but you had a pretty good idea who was gonna finish it if things didn’t get under control.

“Aki, please, you promised you wouldn’t do this…”

“I didn't even do anything, he’s the one with the shitty attitude! Knew you shouldn't have invited him in the first place. And I'm sick of you always defending him, what exactly is this guy to you, [______]?"

Mikey kissed his teeth. “Such a nag. Can’t believe they have to fuck you-”

“Manjiro.” You hissed, sending him a warning glance.

He merely grinned, head tilted as he shamelessly cooed, “Yeah, angel?”

“The fuck you call them?” Aki pressed, taking a step closer. You planted your feet, preventing him from going any further. “Say it again, see what happens.”

Mikey shrugged, “Okay.” Leaning forward off the wall, he gently nudged your chin with his index finger, making you look directly in his eyes. “Yeah, angel?”

“You son of a—” Aki raised his fist, ready to swing; just what Mikey was hoping for. But, you were quick you latch onto the winding arm. No doubt he’d miss, then you’d have to explain why there’s a sandal-print on his face when he wakes up.

“He’s just kidding! Mikey has a, uh, crude sense of humor, always saying what’s on his mind at the wrong times. Never a dull moment.” You chuckled, nervously. “He didn’t mean anything by it…right?”

Sending him a pleading glance, Mikey remained unphased. The dark-haired gang leader eyed your boyfriend for a good, long minute. His dead eyes made the guy feel unsettled, especially since Mikey tended not to blink for periods of time. There were so many things he wanted to say at that moment, so many late night visits Aki knew nothing about—But, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for that later. He’ll play it cool. For now.

Mikey’s stare never wavered as his posture remained relaxed, his aura alone stunning the whole room to silence. The bystanders watched with bated breath. When the pools of obsidian refocused on you, he gave a reassuring wink. Aki didn’t take too kindly to that, stepping backward and taking you with him. The delinquent scoffed, but bit his tongue; he may have won the battle. But there's always the war.

With clenched teeth and a hollow smile, Mikey replied with a simple, “‘Course not. We’re all just friends here.”

Unbothered would be an understatement when describing how DRAKEN felt knowing how negatively your boyfriend felt toward him. Frankly, all he needed was a reason, and he'd happily knock the guy straight out of his shoes. But, for your sake, he remained...cordial.

He also pretended not to hear your little argument in the next room, feet propped up on the coffee table with his arms draped behind the couch, wearing an all too complacent grin knowing he was the subject matter. Again.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot!?" Your boyfriend exclaimed, frustrated. Draken couldn't help but snort, wanting so badly to answer the question for you with a fat yes. "I've seen the way he looks at you, we’ve all seen it, so don’t act like I’m the one with the problem!"

“Takeru, just calm down, there’s nothing going on between us-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” The sound of something shattering, followed by your shriek, made the mechanic perk up in mild alarm; amusement no longer painted his face.

Alright, he thought. Here comes that reason.

It only took him a few strides to get to your bedroom door, nearly splitting the wood in two after he kicked it in. Startling the both of you, Draken’s first priority was to check on your well-being, scanning your person for any visible injury. Luckily, you just appeared to be shaken up a little. Once he was certain, the former blonde directed a hard look toward Takeru, then down at the lamp he just broke. Draken worked his jaw—He gifted you that lamp.

“Kenny…” you said, cautiously. You could sense his impending rage from mere inches away, and you knew your boyfriend would only keep poking the bear. And you’d be correct. “I-It was an accident. Things just got a little out of hand, that’s all-”

“The hell you still doing here, baldy? Thought I told you to-”

Draken chuckled, menacingly. Your partner fell silent, wondering what was so funny, while you just closed your eyes in defeat; you knew that sound meant nothing good. His gunmetal eyes leered down at the pitiful man, cracking his neck before he calmly spoke.

“So we’re just breakin’ shit now, huh. Alright. My fucking turn.”

“I thought you said you'd quit hanging out with him, [_____]! He’s nothing but trouble, have you forgotten he set my roommate’s car on fire?!”

“Tsk. He had it comin’.” Was BAJI’s response, digging through your snack cabinet for a bag of chips. Once he found them, he opened them and began munching away, a bored expression on his face. “Bastard almost ran over Patches, driving around like an asshole. But, he hangs out with you all day, so guess that checks out.”

Referring to one of the building’s stray cats that come around from time to time, you couldn’t help but snort, but you knew he was dead serious—Man doesn’t play about his furry friends.

“Who gives a shit about some stupid-?!” You quickly covered your boyfriend’s mouth before he said anything he’d regret. He wasn’t too pleased, but at least he’d get to keep his teeth.

You exhaled, then directed a frown at the ravenette. “Honestly, I wish you two would try to get along. I think you’d find that you really aren’t so different once you got to know one another.”

“Me? Getting to know that? Fat chance.”

Glaring, your boyfriend ripped away your hand. "Oh, like you're so easy to swallow?"

"Hm, your s/o thinks so."

"Keisuke!"

“The fuck’s that suppose to mean, gutter-trash?” Your boyfriend seethed, turning to you instantly and expecting an explanation. Your eyes were wide, and you waved your hands rapidly to deny the implication. “[_____], what is he talking about?!”

“N-Nothing! God, you always let him get under your skin so easily, Makoto. He’s just being a dick, that’s all…”

Your boyfriend didn’t look convinced in the slightest, brows tight with an upturned lip as he huffed in anger. You shrunk beneath his gaze, stuck without any bandaid words to fix it. Luckily, since Baji was in such a good mood, he decided to relent—It’s no fun when you’re the one suffering the consequences of his crassness. Finishing up the last of the chips, the arsonist crumpled up the bag and tossed it at dude’s face.

“Wha-!”

“Yeah, hot shot, don’t get your panties inna twist. I’m just messin’ with you. We cool?” Baji threw up a fist, fangs on display as he gave an unhinged grin. Makato flinched, but tried to play it off. With hesitancy, your boyfriend eyed the fist with contempt.

“Fuck you. And that ugly-ass cat.”

Probably wasn’t the best thing to say with a fist inches away from his face. Makoto might’ve hesitated; Baji didn’t. So much for getting to keep his teeth.

“You’re a freaking angel, thank you so much for doing this,” MITSUYA gushed, arms snaking around your middle in a warm hug the moment you stepped into the studio. Did he place his hands a little lower than necessary? Maybe.

You chuckled, returning the hug. “Y’know I’d never say no to a free meal."

He had called you for a favor to model a few of his latest designs, needing to make adjustments accordingly before presenting them at the end of the week. His usual canceled on him last minute, putting him in a really tight spot, and you just so happened to be the same size. By offering to buy you dinner for your troubles afterward, it was a win-win for everyone.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, saw right through Mitsuya. Which was why he so eagerly volunteered to tag along. The lavender-haired designer eyed the guy from over your shoulder, disinterested. "Oh. Didn't know you were bringing him."

"Got a problem with that, Mitsy?"

"Hey now, no bickering you two.” You playfully warned, pulling back from the hug. You fixed Mitsuya an apologetic smile. “I hope it's not too much trouble that he’s here, though. I always tell him how fantastic your designs are, so I guess he wanted to see them for himself. Isn’t that right, Haji?”

Said third-wheel grinned sharply, arms crossed as he sarcastically replied, “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait to watch ya. Very closely.”

Mitsuya deadpanned. But, his brow lessened in weight at the feeling of you tugging on his shirt, pouting at him as your eyes practically dazzled him into compliance. “Please, can he stay?"

It didn't take much for him to cave. Whether you’re aware of it or not, you had the delinquent wrapped around your finger. He sighed, then reluctantly agreed. It’s worth seeing the bright smile on your face, and especially worth the look on Hajime's when you wrapped your arms back around him in gratitude. "Thanks, Taka!"

Mitsuya didn't bother masking the smug grin he shot at your boyfriend, watching him struggle to hold his temper. "Anything for you. But, I’m not paying for his meal."

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere!Johnny Cage w/Singer! Darling

A/N: I was listening to one way or another by blondie tonight and this came into my head😩 This song was literally just the letters and threats that blondie’s stalker sent to her. She decided to make it into a song to not only put him on blast but to mock him. Ughhh This is so perfectttt!! I hope y’all enjoy this lol. Johnny is such a perfect yandere

Warnings: John Carlton 😵‍💫, toxic and abusive themes

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Song reference—one way or another|blondie

Being in the public eye as a well known singer is wonderful. The fans, the interviews, the money and press are all great and all…that is until you’re trying to discreetly leave your obsessive ex boyfriend.

It was impossible trying to escape him. Every interaction, every address you stayed at and every new phone number you got was eventually leaked to the public and right back into Johnny’s grimy little hands.

For weeks after you initially left, he followed you everywhere. You swore you’ve seen a strangely familiar blonde drive past your friend’s place and wait out in parking lots. Even if it wasn’t him physically and the paranoia was getting the best of you, hundreds of vile letters and messages from Johnny were constantly being sent your way.

A lot of them read about how he was going to “get his hands on you” or how he’d “never stop stalking you and if he can’t find you, he’ll start going after everyone you loved…one by one.”

His threats shook you down to your core. Even the ones that weren’t threatening and were just love letters that declared his devotion were still creepy. He was so far gone and delusional about you. It was so surreal

Ignoring all of his messages was no use because all over social media, magazines and tv was him crying over you. Completely fabricating stories and lies about you. How he claims you’re manic right now and are a danger to yourself, how he just wants you back in his loving arms. Oh how safe you’d be when you get back to him. Bullsh*t

It was so out of control that you kept on the road. Hoping it’d keep him guessing on your next location. You even changed your hair and style to appear unrecognizable to the public. You became more homely looking but that hardly worked and only made things worse. The public started believing him more and more with your changed appearance and new nomadic lifestyle.

Soon your passion for music and lively personality became merely a hollow shell of what it used to be. So consumed by fear and anxiety that you hardly could function….you was terrified for the day he’d inevitably get you.

It wasn’t until months later where his “concern” for you died down and he was in his “moving on” phase, that something switched inside of you. He was on a talk show and the conversation of you came up,

“Yeah…what a shame about Y/N. Once a bright star now a mentally disturbed soul. Oh well, that sucks for her. You can’t help anyone who doesn’t want it. I tried giving her a taste of the high life but obviously some people aren’t destined for greatness like me. Hopefully she’ll make a living off of all the crack though.”

Oh…that dirty bastard. So cocky and self righteous. The only reason why you’re in this predicament is because of him and his trifling actions towards you. From the hours he’d yell and lock you in his room, to the obsessive stalking and threats are all now reduced down to what???…you being some kind of druggie?!

Your fire was back!!

You’ve been silent, trying to let this all blow over so you could finally have some peace again but hell no. You’ve given up everything while he gets to sit all high and mighty like he’s some angel.

He wants to mock you, and make you into some sort of laughing stock?? Give it back to him…harder

Compiling all the letters, texts, emails and voicemails…you’ve decided to come back into the spotlight. And what better way to have a new single that literally is written by the abuser’s incriminating evidence.

The media is excited and eating everything all up …

And for Johnny? Oh that man is lividddd. Oh he’s so freaking pissed. Just listening to a minute of the song he knows exactly what stupid little stunt you pulled.

How dare you put him expose like that and turn the media on him.

You wanna be a cunt…fine…this isn’t over, Y/N.

[chrolloluvr]

Hello! Can I ask for general relationship headcannons with Mammon from helluva? I know he's toxic but I just love this bastard and his australian accent lol.

General Mammon SFW Relationship Hcs pt.1

Note: YESS TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!! I love this dude idc what anybody thinks, also i might do a pt2 if this gets enough traction!! This is also a Female!reader, but if you squint it can be Genderneutral!reader

Warnings: Some cussing, use of pet names, some creepy behavior 💀

Starting off, Mammon would probably love to show you off. At his clown pageants, royal meetings, and basically anywhere important. If he's going somewhere, you will most likely be there, with his hand on one of your hips, or carrying you on his shoulder. However he won't let anybody get to know you, or even get their grubby hands near your precious body. Most of his fans speculate that if they see you somewhere, Mammon is always somewhere near you, or he at least has his servants follow you. I also imagine he also brings you to interviews.

He just loves to talk his head off about you. When it comes to his little lady, he just can't keep his mouth shut. I swear this man will be talking to Beelzebub or one of his business partners, and be like “Yeah that's nice and all dickhead, but Y/N is better at that by a long shot.” HE WILL BRING YOU UP AT THE MOST RANDOM TIMES! He will also twist his words in a way that involves you.

Loves and lives to buy you things. He feels obligated to get you luxurious items, even if you don't want them or feel bad. He knows he's one of, if not the most wealthy man in hell, so just let him spoil you, because he won't take no for an answer. If you don't like something he buys you, he won't be mad at you, but the people who made it. You're his pride and joy, so anything he buys you is very luxurious and one of a kind. When you go out to events with him, the press and 666 news will go crazy over the latest new necklace he bought you. If you just look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he will move heaven and hell for you.

He knows your weakness is his boisterous voice. He notices every detail about you, including the way your knees lock and your demeanor softens when he does that deep, Australian accent. He likes to grab your cheeks, and say in a low husky voice how you're so cute babe, my perfect little woman. Or when he calls you or leaves voicemails, he will talk innocently about something, but you never fail to take his voice and imagine it in, well, other ways.

I feel like Mammon would give you nicknames all the time. He rarely calls you buy your real name, unless hes upset, but he is never truly upset with you. He will call you babe most of the time, misses, my little lady, sweetheart, princess, my queen, woman, babycakes, and my little money maker (sometimes). He will call you these things, but also when he wants something from you like a warm hug, or to rub his shoulders, or to bring him his morning breakfast. He doesnt call you by your real name often, because he thinks its too serious, and in his eyes, you arent serious,you are just his little innocent woman, oblivious to the dangerous underworld.

There is an obvious power imbalance between the two of you. There's Mammon, a powerful deadly sin, the king of greed, and loved by billions of demons. And then there's you, a lowly demon/sinner who in his eyes, can barely do anything by yourself, hell, you need him to open a nutella jar for christ sake. He thinks of himself as your big strong protector, and also your king who you should bow down to, who you should be thankful for, because millions and millions of girls would die to be in your position.

When you two date, he want complete control over your life. Your social media, friends, people you talk to, family, etc. He most likely implanted a tracker somewhere on your body while you were sleeping. He controls all your socials, and most likely put “Account ran by the handsome king of greed” im your Sinstagram bio 😭. He also deleted any hate comments. One time somebody put “Miss girl is getting that little dick every night” And he got so butthurt, so he blocked them and personally killed them. He also wants you to stay innocent.

He loves to touch you. whether it be groping you, or slowly dragging his gloved fingers over your skin. He does not care about your size too, whether you are chubby or skinny, he loves you for you and that only applies to you. It does not matter how big or small your boobs are, he will guaranteed grab them atleast twice every day randomly. His favorite part of your body is most likely your belly and your boobs. But he loves everything about you, dont get me wrong.

He will never, and I mean never, let you down. He wants to see your pretty smile. If your going on a flight? First class. A show? Front row. You two are staying at a hotel? Presidential suite. He has you covered. Hes the sin of greed for crying out loud. He uses his status to get you the best of the best. If he sees you upset, he is upset at the people around him, and throws a big temper tantrum. In his eyes, he always needs to be the person to make you happy. If he ever sees you laughing at another mans corny jokes, he makes a mental note to personally handle them, and show them that he is your man, not some low class, vile excuse of a man.

[gothcsz]

ya know, I always feel like everybody sees Javi as this huge horn dog that would absolutely agree to any threesome stuff and all that.

Buuuut listen. If you were dating that man, he would be possessive as shit. Like if you even dare to think about another guy, like popular one would be Steve. And you even just make a tiny joke about Steve like that, you know Javi would be fucking you so god damn hard that you would forget any other name on the planet except his. He would be so damn possessive, telling you that you know nobody but him could fuck you like this, that you don’t need anybody but him. That man would destroy your 🐱 and make you so cock dumb to make you forget even thinking about another guy.

And he would definitely glare are Steve for a while after and Steve just has no idea what’s going on 😂

possessive/jealous javi is my fucking favoriteeeeee sorry not sorry a bitch just loves a slightly toxic man! and his possessiveness doesn’t even stem from a place of insecurity, lbr, this man is self assured if anything— a cocky POS but he’s our cocky POS.

pobre steve unknowingly in the middle of you and javi’s sex mind games lmfao i def feel like it started as a fleeting comment…

“Yeah, I guess Steve’s kinda cute. His eyes are so pretty.”

and you didn’t even think twice about it. it was just a simple compliment but it still left a weird taste on javi’s tongue.

and then you really start to notice it, the shift in his demeanor when you stop by to visit him at work. you probably chat with steve for a brief moment before walking over to your man and that pisses him off. how are you here to see him but instead are laughing at one of steve’s not funny at all dad jokes?! i dunno he probably starts to make petty comments of his own here and there that tip you off to his jealousy and honestly?

it turns you on. javi is always walking around like he’s got the biggest dick in town (he might actually….) so seeing him this worked up over seemingly nothing… well you’re going to have your fun with it because you’re a fucking brat sometimes.

i’m picturing some bullshit office party where you’ve had one too many to drink so you decide to scratch that itch and lightly flirt with steve (sorry connie we’re being horny over here) in the same way you did with javi when you two first started dating.

and boy does that set him off 😫 he waits until you’re coming back from the restroom before he pulls you into a dark and empty office, absolutely degrading you; calling you a slut and attention whore before harshly pushing you down onto your knees and bruising your throat with the way he’s fucking it.

“Nena esa boquita sucia es mía y de nadie más.”

once you’re a slobbering, sobbing mess, he roughly bends you over whoever’s desk, not even bothering to undress you as he hikes your skirt up and pushes your panties to the side, fucking into you in one stroke and you scream his name out.

the bastard has giant ass smirk on his face through it all, setting a brutal pace as his hips crash into yours repeatedly, his heavy balls slapping against your clit and you’re reduced to being a babbling, fucked out woman as he keeps spilling filth into your ear.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Whose pussy is this?”

“That’s right baby it’s fucking mine. You’re mine.”

and, well, who are you to disagree with that? you cum so hard, your vision is dotted with spots and you genuinely feel like you’re going to pass out with how rough he’s just taken you.

your cunt swollen and so sensitive but you don’t give a damn— squeezing around his cock as he paints your walls with his spend; marking you as his.

your brain is filled with him just as much as your pussy is. as he intended. and it’s a great feeling, really. even if you know you’re going to be sore as hell for the days to come.

let me stop before i go on a tangent (as if i haven’t already lol) but yes…. he’d rock your world that smug asshole!!

[transingthoseformers]

Nononono. I love SG!ConstructProwl. Because consider in IDW Baseline he never accepted them truly and they left him.

In SG they are successful at wooing him.

Oooooh.

Concept.

In SG it is the Constructicons are medics. In BL, they forcibly converted Prowl because of orders and feel in love with his brain. In there's during the SG!ProwlOP divorce, they find him beaten and broken left to die, and having seen what he went through feel sick at the idea of leaving him, and his Spark case is compromised. So they temporarily hook him into their Gestalt system since it is made to accept others, but Prowl latches on to them and is utter enraptured by their loyalty and love. He knows it exists but feeling that kind of loyalty and naivete about being goodness in the world after everything he sees is charming and what's more he wants it. So they've been chosen by a feral sleazy cat/mean girl who is very much now "Optimus who?" and eyeing them up while they squeak and push at him with a broom especially since he refuses to break the bond and gives them sad cat eyes that they know–they can feel his think which is beautifully sharp and horrifically clear and calculating–it is fake but the thought of hurting him and echoed memory of rejections and beatings and not being enough that radiates at the spark of him makes them unable to let go.

Even more Prowl is more than rwady to go full ride or die and has decided to be their murderous "he said no pickles" girlfriend and torment them into not overworking themselves and glare at the Decepticons who ask for assistance or projects and make sure they eat and are fed and have a schedule. The Constructicons overextend themselves to support everyone and have issues saying no.

Prowl does not.

The Decepticons are horrified at the implication of taking advantage and Megatron finds himself agreeing with Prowl about them taking care of themselves while they get upset at first but reluctantly admit he's right.

"Of course I am." Is Prowl’s only response as he shoves cube of Energon flavored to each of their exact tastes and locks down their work stations (Soundwave conveniently distracts Shockwave so he can't help them hack back in) and shuffles them to berth.

Hm, I have thoughts now about Workaholic!SG!Constructicons and their small bossy new self-assigned wife.

Exactlyyyyyyy

In SG, they said "we may or may not be able to fix him but we can try"

Also yes yes on SG medic!constructicons.

Exactly, SG ProwlOp is a toxic relationship I can absolutely see happening as an on/off thing that's been going on since before the war but of course this is the final off switch.

They just have to save him, they've gotta. And they do. Prowl happens to latch on very tightly and does not want to let go lol

It is such the opposite of canon and now he's the one who is sticking close by, because he has felt Positive Emotions that do not come from someone else's Negative Emotions for the first time and he's hooked.

"Would you like me to kill that guy???"

"... No thank you, but it's the thought that counts?"

Yes I'm fiddling around with the constructicon's colors and I am so tempted to keep the purple and not the green

Awww yes and he is making sure they don't implode by being selfish for them (oddly selfless of him, but he'd deny that)

Sdfg yep yep he is their evil bastard they have adopted and he's bullying them into self carem

[megamindsecretlair]

All of Me

Pairing: Kane x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Use of n-word. Phone Smut, mutual masturbation (fem and male) cursing, hella dirty talk, begging, possession kink, Daddy kink, teasing, all consensual. Established relationship. Brief mention of violence and murder. No spoilers for the show!

Summary: You were so dreadfully needy and Kane wasn't there to fix it. You decide to call him and tease him a little.

Word Count: 2,366k

A/N: Wanted to do a little sum'n for Thanksgiving while we all winding down from the itis. If I did Tyrone, I'd still be writing! LOL. Ya'll can thank @planetblaque for this! Kane's voice makes me so irrationally feral. Enjoy my rotten brain! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @browngirldominion @dayjlovesromance @flydotty @eggnox @blackerthings @hopelessdisasterr @sevikasblackgf @wide-nose-and-wonderful @monaeesstuff @notapradagurl7 @lovedlover @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @soft-persephone

This was so unfair. You tossed and turned. The cold sheet beside you felt like it was mocking you. You were horny and he wasn’t here. Your feverish skin made sweat gather everywhere. 

Your fingers desperately rubbed at your clit, getting wetter by the minute. But something was missing. Or someone. Kane had been gone more often than being there with you. And it fucking sucked. But any time you brought it up, he started in with that smile. That head tilt. He’d simply follow you into the room and work out whatever your attitude was.

You pictured yourself riding him. His hands on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and down on his dick. You wouldn’t be able to tell who was in charge, him directing your pace or you slamming down on his dick. Gripping him tight inside of you as if you meant to keep him there.

A low, ragged moan escaped you. Your orgasm steadily built higher and higher. You pictured that teardrop on his face. Pictured leaning down and licking it. You knew what it meant. You knew that he was a dangerous man. But then you imagined his voice saying dirty things. 

Oh, almost there. Almost there. And…it was gone. “What the fuck!” You screamed into the empty room. That fucking bastard. You were so used to him filling you up that you couldn’t even get off by yourself anymore.

Randomly while taking a bath or shower, you could maybe get there on your own. But nothing else worked. He invaded every part of you. He commanded you, body and soul. And you fucking hated it.

You sat up in bed and cold air hit your damp back. That did little to dull your senses. Your clit was throbbing. You were needy. And he wasn’t here to work it out.

You grabbed the receiver on the nightstand beside you. As you dialed the warehouse’s number, you turned on the light. Your foot dangled off the side of the bed, bouncing as you waited for one of his stupid friends to answer. 

“Put Kane on the mu’fucking phone right now,” you demanded.

“Yes, ma’am,” the little boy said.

You waited, chewing on your nail. You rubbed your forehead. Your fingers came away wet with sweat. This shit was embarrassing. 

“Yeah, baby?” Kane’s deep, raspy voice came over the line and your pusy throbbed in response. Down girl. 

“You need to come home, now,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Can’t come home just because I said?” 

“We talked about this, mama. I was gon’ have to be gone for a while while I deal with business,” he said.

So fucking nonchalant. Kane hardly raised his voice. It was infuriating. Sometimes, you wanted to see what he looked like when mad. What it would take to make him react or do something out of character. It was toxic but you didn’t give a shit. 

You refused to beg. You weren't some weak ass bitch begging for dick. And yet, you called. He was on the phone. You sighed, realizing how fucking stupid you looked sitting in the house by yourself all the time. You liked the solitude in the day time. You didn’t have to deal with anyone but your own company, just the way you liked. But at night, when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the bed no matter how hard you tried, it was lonely. It hit you all over again just how dangerous Kane’s life was. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Kane,” you said.

Kane sighed on the other end. “You trynna tell me somethin’?” 

You rolled your eyes. Your fever was starting to cool. You were still incredibly horny. But you weren’t going to beg.

“Naw. Bye,” you said.

“Wait, you called me. What’s up, for real? Talk to me, baby,” he said.

You listened to the rhythm of his voice. Listening to it, you were starting to get worked up all over again. With a word, he could light a fire under you. With a sentence…

“How long are you gonna be at the warehouse?” You asked. A kernel of an idea wormed its way into your brain. 

“Not sure. Why?” 

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. You lay back against the pillows and got comfortable. 

“Just wondering…” you said. You played with the coil of the phone. 

Kane chuckled. “I know when you up to somethin’.” 

“Me?” You asked, feigning innocence. “I’m just wondering how long I got to play with myself,” you said. 

It was silent on his side. If it weren’t for the open air, you would have thought he hung up the phone. You trailed your hand over your tummy. Kane liked to place extra kisses there. You pictured him kneeling over you, placing soft kisses and watching how your belly dipped. He’d lick certain spots, guaranteeing a laugh from you.

“Are you touching yourself now?” Kane asked. He was deceptively calm. 

“Mhm,” you said. Your hand went lower, slipping beneath your panties. “Wearing your shirt. The long sleeved blue one. And my panties,” you said. Your hand played with your curls and you tried to control your breathing. But this teasing was exactly what you needed. If his punk ass wanted to spend all his time at the warehouse, he ought to know what he was missing out on.

“Where’s your hand at?” Kane asked. You heard shuffling. A creak. 

“Hm, over my pussy. Finna play with my clit the way I like,” you said.

“The way you like, huh,” he said.

You gasped as you moved your fingers through your folds. You were soaked. “Ohh,” you cooed. “I’m soooo wet right now.” 

Kane sighed. “I’m gonna get yo ass for this, I hope you know that. Touching my shit without me,” he said. 

“Oh, I’m so scared. If only I wasn’t so busy takin’ care of business,” you said.

Kane chuckled. He cleared his throat but it did nothing to soften his raspy voice. “You try to talk so tough. It’s kind of cute. But you forget that I know yo ass. You called ‘cause you couldn’t get yourself off, could you?” 

You bit your lip, irritation flaring up. His ass would guess on the first try. Oh well, didn’t matter. You were getting what you wanted and that was all that mattered. 

“Actually, I came before I called. Thought you might want to hear me cum again,” you said. You started to moan as you pictured whatever retribution he was thinking of. If he would spank you. Bend you over his knee. If he would fuck you in his recliner in the living room. If he would play you like a fiddle. If he would get straight to the point and fuck you stupid, not caring if you were wet enough for his big dick. 

“You rubbing your pussy?” Kane asked. His voice went lower, more strained.

“Yes,” you moaned. 

“Slow it down then.” 

“I need to cum,” you said. It had been a horrible night. After you smoked, you got so fuckin’ horny you were bouncing off of the walls. Kane didn’t like you driving by yourself. And he didn’t want you around the warehouse. He didn’t want to have to kill all them niggas for lookin’ sideways at your ass.

You hissed. Murder shouldn’t turn you on. But well, there was something so hot about the way Kane treated you. Like you were the lost City of Atlantis and he guarded the secret with his life. 

“Listen to me, mama. I’ma do you this kindness ‘cause I know Daddy ain’t been around. You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood. So slow it down for me. Go slow, them little circles I know you like,” he said.

You listened. Damn him, but you listened. You slowed down, rubbing large circles around your clit. Your legs shook as the pleasure increased. Your breathing slowed with it. 

“That’s it. Don’t that feel good?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whispered. Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes rolling back to the ceiling. 

“When I get home, I’m gon’ lick that sweet pussy of yours. Nice and slow, just like you rubbing,” Kane said.

“Oh shit,” you gasped.

“Gon’ push those thighs to the bed. You won’t be able to close ‘em, no matter how much you want me to,” he continued. “Hmm, run my tongue along your pussy. Fuck you with it.”

“Shit,” you said. You could picture that. His tongue fucking into you. His big hands palming your thighs. Your legs dropped open further, as far as they would go. Your hips moved, wanting him there right now. 

“Mhm, slow it back down, mama,” he said. 

“Kane, please,” you said. If you admitted that you lied earlier, you’d never live it down. He’d lord it over you until he found something else to mock you with. Your belly tightened, cramping with the need to cum. 

“Listen to me, mama. You making me so fuckin’ hard over here,” he said.

“Really?” Your pussy clenched. You loved that you affected him just as much he affected you. That you weren’t alone in this obsession. You did as he said, slowing down again. Your fingers were drenched.

“I’m so wet, Kane. I’m gon’ have to wash these sheets,” you said. You chuckled, your voice breathy. 

“Let me hear it then,” Kane said. 

You held in a smile, your cheeks scrunching with the effort. You moved the phone from your ear and held it to your pussy. You played with yourself, nice and slow like he wanted. It was quiet in the room. So you heard how wet you were. You paid attention to the sound. It made you wetter. 

Your ragged moans were dragged from your throat. You were so close.

You brought the phone back to your ear. Kane sighed and groaned. “Damn, little mama. All that for me?” He asked.

“Yes, baby,” you said.

“Mhm, what you ‘sposed to say?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned.

“There you go. You get that shit right. I shouldn’t have to correct you, right?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned. 

“Now I want you to taste yourself. Taste how I’m getting that pussy screaming for me,” he said.

“Fuck.” You did what he said. Dragging your fingers past your lips and tasting your arousal. You moaned. 

“I know it’s been a minute since you had this dick, you miss it, huh?” Kane asked.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you admitted.

“Was that so hard to say?” Kane asked.

“Boy, fuck you,” you said. But there was no heat in your words. He was absolutely right and there was no way that you could deny it. You needed this man. Needed. It should scare you to give so much of yourself to one person. To trust that he’d always be there when you fell. And he had never let you down.

True, moving here was not what you were expecting. You were just happy to have him out of prison and in your arms again. You waited. You deserved his time. Didn’t you? Didn’t you hold it down for him? Weren’t you strong for him? Didn’t you get by, day after day, living with the pain of not having the love of your life in your arms? 

His side of the bed was always so painfully icy. Your hand would accidentally brush it and you’d yank it back as if it scalded you. It reinforced how empty your life had been without him. You could survive without Kane. It would hurt like hell, but you believed you could. You didn’t want to have to. 

You wanted him here, beside you. Holding you. Kissing you. Making you laugh. Fucking you until you both couldn’t breathe. Until the rays of the sunrise poked through the curtains and illuminated his beautiful face.

“Put them fingers inside you, mama,” he said. 

You did as ordered, pushing two fingers inside of you. You gasped. Your voice stuttered. Your fingers were a poor substitute for his thick dick. For the rock of his hips. For his hand on your throat. For his gorgeous eyes closed as he slammed inside of you. Like he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Like you were heaven and he was floating above the clouds.

You sighed and moaned. Kane encouraged you, wanting to hear every sound you made. You listened to his own uneven breathing as he jerked himself off. You pictured him sitting, rubbing his dick. Hard at the thought of you.

“I think…I’m cumming,” you moaned.

“That’s okay, mama. Let it go. You been doing so good. Let that shit go and cum for me,” he said.

You screamed his name as you finally came. The wild force of it knocked the breath from you. You felt like you were in the eye of the storm. Everything was still around you, but inside, you were twisting and turning. Roiling with the intensity of the storm. Your body bowed on the bed as your climax surged through you.

Kane groaned as he came. “Goddammit,” he muttered. He panted as he calmed down. You matched his breaths. 

You felt so much better. You relaxed against the damp pillowcases beneath you. Your skin turned cold as that phantom fever left you with the orgasm. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you recovered.

Kane took in a deep breath and chuckled. “That’s all you get. I’ll come home and we gon’ talk about you on that bullshit again,” he said.

You giggled. “I’m gonna have to clean myself up. I’m thinkin’...bath. Candles. Definitely gon’ have to touch my pussy again,” you teased. 

Kane was silent once more. You heard shuffling and random shifts from him. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m gon’ be home in twenty minutes and yo ass better be right fuckin’ there,” he said.

“If I’m not?” You asked.

“Don’t push me, little mama,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy,” you said. You tried to sound contrite but you both knew that you were happy as hell to finally get some dick. Twenty minutes wasn’t too long was it?

If you enjoyed this, there is more! The Secret Kane Files

[evita-shelby]

What is the Devil without his Witch?

aka the divorved!dark Tommy x Eva getting back together post s4 au

cw: murder, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cursing, infidelity, psychological torture, pregnancy complications

never really gave into Eva and Tommy’s toxicity like this lol

somewhat inspired by @mischievouslittlecreature 's The Misery We Made and its upcoming sequels

taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark @hoodeddreams13 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

“No.”

Eva crossed her arms wishing she wasn’t on bedrest and could toss him out of her fucking house.

With Luca dead, his psyche worse than ever and now her darling ex-husband comes here to tell her this.

“Evie—” he begins again, and she reminds him he lost the right to call her Eva the night he fucked Grace while she was at home with their first child.

He had come back from his own grave that same day to find his wife and child gone. No word nor even a sign of where she had gone. Just divorce papers he had to sign if he ever wanted to see his son again.

She told him infidelity was something she’d never forgive from him, and he learned the cost of using Grace to piss off Campbell would cost him the only woman he loved. He claims he hadn’t wanted to, but he’d been too drunk to see his mistake until he saw it was Grace he had fucked and not Eva.

And of course, an opportunist like her would seize the chance to have him. She had claimed to have fallen pregnant by him and not her dead husband, and when Tommy refused to leave his wife for her, Grace had taken it upon herself to ensure he did.

Eva had cursed the twat to die for taking what belonged to her. Cursed her to never be loved in truth by Tommy, to never give him children, to be the bride but never the wife of Tommy Shelby.

The night Grace died, Tommy had been called away from the party by Section D and died on impact in the arms of the stranger talking to her. The night after Eva had learned Tommy had never been able to make himself love the woman he married in a big gaudy wedding he never wanted to have. Grace had known he was marrying her out of obligation to the dead baby and would serve only to further his place in high society, Grace had accepted thinking he could grow to love her as she loved him in those two years he delayed it hoping she’d seek out greener pastures.

And then because he was all alone in the manor he purchased with his first wife in mind, Tommy sought her out more and more. Even stayed with her in London in the wisteria covered villa he didn’t have the keys to.

They shared a living child, shared a love that did not die so easily no matter what the vapid bitch had tried, and Eva would be the keeper of Tommy’s heart even when the fire melts away their initials tattooed on his hand.

They made a blood pact when they married, cut their palms and bound themselves to each other for the rest of eternity. No piece of paper, no wedding ring on the rat’s finger nor even the dead bastard in her belly could ever take Tommy from his witch of a wife.

It had made her wish Grace hadn’t moved on to hell so quickly, the witch would’ve loved to see her face knowing Tommy had gone back to his true wife the night after Grace was buried in her family’s plot in Ireland.

Then he wormed his way back into her heart that day at the canal they used to walk by as lovers once upon a time. The nostalgia, the knowledge that no woman would ever fill the hole Eva left in his heart and the tender way they made love had the witch fooled into thinking they could have a second act.

This had resulted in Diane, the baby girl struggling to stay alive inside her because the discovery that Tommy drugs himself to hallucinate his idea of Grace had almost killed her weeks ago. Eva was on bedrest until the doctor could be sure her daughter and successor would survive to term.

“Ask your hallucination to marry you and save your career.” The witch stands her ground and hitting him where it hurts.

“Eva, I ---” Tommy has no words to explain let alone justify why he torments himself with Grace’s so-called ghost.

Guilt was a powerful thing.

He hadn’t loved her like he had loved and still loves Eva ---he had said so to Eva the first night he sought her out again--- and yet he sought out a version of Grace that never even existed: a woman who could sweet talk him into killing himself because he killed her and that is what he deserves.

After all, he thinks he killed her by not reigning in his brother. Eva had let him believe that because she enjoyed seeing him in agony for the hurt he caused her.

“For all your talk about me being the true love of your life, it seems that was also a fucking lie.” The witch twists the knife knowing how because it hurts him to have her call him a liar. Tommy could handle anything except failing someone he loves.

Besides if he truly intends to make his first mistake right with her now, it will cost him.

“I killed her, Eva, I couldn’t be the husband she wanted, and I was wishing it had been you the one by my side that night and every night before it while that fucker came and shot her.” He admits knowing Eva’s cursed to be understanding and never understood.

“I cursed her, cursed her for daring to take you from me, if anyone had the pleasure of killing that lying fucking whore, it was me.” Eva admits knowing he’d forgive her because it proved she still loved him.

They were fucked in the head; they cannot love like real people do and settle for this love that burns everyone who dares to touch it.

There is a strange sense of relief he has, the relief of knowing he stands a chance to enter the Garden of Eden once more and the relief of knowing his nights seeking absolution from the Grace that lives in his head are over.

They better be or Eva’s dispatching him to the ninth circle of hell with his second wife.

“Well, then I got robbed of those fucking sapphires.” He even dares to fight a smile.

Tommy has a chance, that’s all that matters to him anyways.

“I’m not giving you twenty years of my life so you can make me miserable again, Shelby.” The witch reminds him why she’s not agreeing to Polly’s grand fucking scheme to get them back together. Polly had been the one to tip a newspaper that Tommy had reconciled with his rather quite famous ex-wife and were expecting their second child and only responded with the words, ‘You’re welcome’ before fucking off to see Michael in New York.

“Then tell me what I have to do to get you to say yes.” The gangster sat at the chair by bedside because she’ll kick him out of her bed if he attempts to fill the space he used to have in it.

“No more women, not even the one in your head.” It was the reason their first marriage failed; Tommy used his cock to get what money nor fear could. If he wanted to have a wife and a career he’d have to change. “The moment you go back to your old habits, I will take the children and destroy your precious career while I’m at it.”

Their first divorce had left him on the brink of ruin and being forced to take Churchill’s offer to survive it. The second one would force her to grind him into sand underneath her heel.

“You have my word…as long as there’s no one else for you too.” He is not surprised by her words; he’s always known she’s possessive of him just as possessive he is of her. Eva is not ashamed to admit she took lovers just to prick at his jealousy.

Eva had held Tommy’s gaze as Grace’s blond cousin ate her out in the library on his wedding day. The man had been humiliated and killed by him in the woods, Tommy had cornered Eva in a corridor stained with the man’s blood on his collar and just when Grace came looking for him, Eva showed the blonde she’d never relinquish her hold on Tommy.

It should’ve been us in that church, I never should’ve hurt you, love; he’d said so earnestly entirely unaware his new wife had watched them fuck with wild abandon after he had distracted her with a fuck upstairs, so she’d stop pestering him about the Russian Job. Sex was not how Tommy measured his love for his women; he led Lizzie and Grace on because his sweet and tender way in fucking managed to fool women into believing he loved them.

Jessie Eden will learn the hard way he was merely using her. If she was not important, Eva would’ve given her the mercy of death.

“Any other requests, Mrs. Shelby?” her blue eyed soulmate asks using the name she’d never removed so Grace would be forced to correct people and see their disappointment it’s not the enigmatic woman making society eat out of her hand but instead it was poor dull as dish water her. Mousy Jane Seymour had a son in order to leave a mark after Anne Boleyn, Eva had ensured her temporary replacement didn’t even taint the mausoleum in Arrow House.

“You get clean, or I walk.” This was more out of genuine concern for his wellbeing than taking away his ‘fun’.

He is touched by it, by the change in tone for this request as they get to the parts that are for more his benefit than hers.

It will be difficult, she’s been there when the bullshit court ordered her to get sober for her actions that night on January 1st, 1918. Worst six months of her life, but she did it and she knows it was her then fiancé, Leopoldo, who assured his father, the President she sought to overthrow, that what Eva needed was time to put herself together again.

“Only if you’re getting me through it, love. You were right when you said I was a weak man.” For all his façade of strength and unmovable as stone, Shelby was none of that once you got to the real one.

He had thought himself too smart to fall victim of a too strong drink, or something slipped into his drink by a desperate woman who thought he was the only one for her.

Tommy had fallen apart one night into his first vacation, his housekeeper had called her and put him on the phone while a maid had taken Charlie fearing he may hurt him in his drug fueled stupor.

“John would haunt me if I didn’t get you through it.” The witch assures him and pats the empty space in her bed allowing him to return to her in truth. She did not have many demands, just three. “And I need a husband just as your children need a father, you can’t let the guilt of causing your own misery deny you the chance to finally fix it, Tom.”

She never held back for him, he didn’t want that from her, he wanted the rose with its thorns and all.

“Always the healer, aren’t you?” he tried to touch her, yet the witch forbade him from doing so with a look. He would not have her until he abided by these terms. He will not lay even a finger on her until all his whores are gone, until there is no opium nor laudanum or morphine that he could use to drug himself out of his mind and one other thing he must sacrifice if he wishes to reenter heaven,

“Yes, though I will not be as kind and gentle as before. You angered your goddess by seeking a false idol, Thomas Shelby.” The dark-haired beauty reminds him of its far from over.

“Ask anything from your penitent husband, love. I’d give you half my kingdom if need be.” Shelby has always liked playing the devoted worshipper of the goddess who graced him with everything he squandered for nothing.

“I want every trace of her destroyed.”

Eva Shelby’s triumphant arrival at Arrow House greets her with a sober Tommy who has not touched a woman since that morning he asked what it would take for her to remarry him and everything Grace Shelby had in the home she only inhabited for a month piled up and doused in gasoline just for her.

“We’re bound by blood, čovexanii. If my god demands a sacrifice to forgive my sins, I will give it gladly.” Thomas Shelby hands her the lighter she gave them on their first Christmas together and allowed her to burn away a period of his life no one will be bothered to remember.

What is a piece of paper to blood pact? What is duty to love? What is the devil without his witch?

[ro-bee]

I’m very curious about the poly quad relationship (Narinder/Lamb/Kirander/Goat). I’m assuming that NariLamb, PupiGoat, and maybe LambGoat are love relationships (Let me know if I’m wrong), but what about Lamb x Kirander, Narinder x Goat, and Narinder x Kirander? Do they also love each other or is it mostly a sexual arrangement?

Ok so

Narilamb are very very in love (after all the divorce stuff now they are fine)

Pupigoat are toxic yaouri (?) but they're going to get better eventually (lamb is their couple counciler)

LambGoat have this very special relationship that is like best friends but not quite, lovers but not really?? Is hard to give it a name

Like queer platonic??? Qeer romantic?

And about the others :

Lamb and Kiran like each others and are very affectionate, so we can say that they are in love ;)

Nari and goat relationship is like "yeah I like their company but ngl it would be really funny if now they got hit by a car"

they don't hate each others toh! They are just bastards I think lol is like passive aggressive? neutral?? Fuck buddies even???

Nari and Kiran are like that Barbie meme "I'm just like you, you're just like me" they go along pretty well but sometimes nari bullies Kiran because "he's too sweet" just like his lamb, nothing too evil or anything

Also he would find very interesting kiran's "revenge" plan against his siblings (you know the whole "go goat, kill all gods, kill everyone")

Is there any jealousy in this messy polycule? Hm probably... Sometimes, but not much I think

Is probably just Kiran being like "why my lovely goat isn't THAT SWEET with me? *sad dog noises*" idk I think is funny

[darlingofvalyria]

❝The story where your rage nearly tore Winterfell to ashes?❞

[ You talk your daughter down from her cold feet. ]

[ 1,405 ] [ series masterlist ] | king!jacaerys velaryon x aunt targ!reader (aegon's twin)

contains— canon divergence - fluff, smidge of angst - allusions to warfare, character death(s), infidelity, revenge, manipulative targ!reader - children, arranged marriage, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth - sort of fluff?? bits of angst, toxic as shit hhshs - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— a little blurb before the third proper instalment of 'in hightower green' (yes, we now have a masterlist and a series title!!). this is post-the series, & contains a hint on what happens to the third part, which will be a two-parter, cos its heavy and reader goes full gone girl shdjshdhs can't wait to share it!! but for now have a glimpse of the future lol + comment, reblog & like at will, my loves!!

"I was told that you were on the verge of fainting, but I see you are upright as a horse." A faint smile glimmers on your playful lips as your daughter turns, smiling in an exact replica of how Helaena smiles.

It bursts wildflowers and warmth in your chest as you approach, standing behind her as you take the earrings from her fingers that have been turning them around and around, Nila, the spider whose web you placed by your daughter's, said.

You balance the heavy accessory, before you say, "Let me."

A quiet settles the pair of mother and daughter, the chaos of the feast unable to taint the tranquility provided in her chambers. As you take care in placing the baubles for her ears you press a gentle smile on your face as you gaze upon her on the mirror. Maegella Velaryon is a patchwork creation of your most beloved people, despite being the fourth born daughter and the second triplet, she bore Helaena's smile and Aemond's dusky laughter.

Though there is the Strong features in her jaw and face shape, her eyes and hair are your mother's. The Hightower features you have adored since childhood, the auburn hair and the gentle, round brown eyes.

Your seventh child bears the most resemblance to your Hightower roots, as she is the only one with her grandmother's auburn locks. Sweet orange red, a shimmer of a dying flame.

"I do not know if I am making the right decision, your grace." She breaks the silence, meeting your violet gaze with her gentle brown. She is young, on the verge of her womanhood, while you have aged, a mirror of what visage will soon become. "I understand that the Lord Stark is an honourable man, most auspicious is our arrangement thus far, but..."

"But?"

"I am fearful," she whispers.

There is Aegon in her chin, in her purse lips. It tugs at your heartstrings further at the reminder of your beloved twin.

Your children have always been Aegon's favourite to spoil, but much more your triplet daughters.

"They all look so much like you, sweet sister, even if their colouring is not fully Valyrian," he had said when they were born, snuggled against each other in their sleep much like the two of you when you were newborn babes.

"So they look like you, since we are twins," you teased. He nudged you with an elbow, giggling.

"Yes, exactly." He turned to Maegella, newborn as she is, her hair had been a lighter shade of red orange back then. He runs a finger down her hair and forehead before booping her button nose. "This one has mother's hair."

"And brown eyed. I thought of naming her Alicent, but I digressed. Much too on the nose."

He laughed. "Maybe the next one then, as for sure you will be round with the Strong bastard's babe once more."

Though there was no heat to his tone, you still slapped his arm. It wasn't like he was wrong. You promised Jace you will bring him heirs.

You promised yourself strong babes. Their blood is yours, and they breathe with you.

"Oh, my sweet, darling girl," you say now, smiling gently as you place a coifed, auburn lock back behind strings of pearl that swept up her hair in elegant coils, not unlike fully bloomed roses cinched together. "You are about to make a new life for yourself, there is much to fear. But you are the blood of the dragons. And of the oldest, greatest House in Westeros. And the sea. Which is ancient, and has drowned men in vigour despite her age."

"Just like Vhagar?"

You laugh. "Much like Vhagar when she lived, yes, that old, ferocious girl."

She giggles then sighs as you hold her close to you. Gentle as you are to her wedding attire, a faint, seafoam blue laced white dress. A gift from her father.

You stand straight, something in your expression triggers her own posture to straighten. The visage and orderly manner of a princess coming back to her spine and face.

"No true marriage is a fairytale. Most oft, you have to strangle fate by the throat and conquer your future."

Her eyes widen. "Mother! That sounds ghastly."

"It is." Your laugh isn't what she's used to. It's a breathless, mirthless exhale. A memory so entangled in your mind it weaves about in silvery threads between you. "But my marriage to your father had not always been such a gladdened time."

"I would expect so..." she says hesitantly, wary of every minute change of your expression. "It has been a long marriage, with a heft of babes of your own." Her hand finds yours and squeezes, trying for a jest with a pinch of honesty. "Do not expect the same amount of children from me, your grace. Though the birthing bed is a war all women must face, I have five other sisters to continue your lineage."

You exchange a laugh, pinching her cheek whilst she yelps.

"I cannot fathom birthing the same amount as you have. You are the strongest of us all."

"Your great-great grandmother, The Good Queen Alysanne, named after your sister, bore much more than I, I will remind you so."

She shivers. "Madness it is."

"It is," you agree. "The realm had asked for only two, but I had love your father so. But our marriage... it had almost cost me everything."

"Everything?"

Your smile is flaccid. "My crown, my birthright, my position in your father's life. Everything."

She stands, thoroughly alarmed, spinning to you and holding your arms. "Mother? I have not heard of this before."

"Oh, how can you? You were yet to be born." You run your fingers over her sweet face. Your seventh child. To think you almost lost them all. To think such bastards nearly took everything from you. "Only Daenera and Aemma had been, and I am not sure they can remember it all. They were quite young. And I am furious to tell further, but... but for you, I can. So you might understand that marriage is too, a battle to be won. A prize you must covet. As a dragon, your hoard is your own. Any who dare touch it must pay with fire and blood."

Your chin tips. "Even if sometimes, your enemy is your own spouse."

"Father?" A faint gasps leave her lips. "You are scaring me mother. What story is this?"

A smirk plays on your lips. "The story of how Winterfell almost burnt to the ground."

"What?"

"Rage, my sweet girl, especially born out of a dragon's flame, can raze armies to the ground. We were called conquerors for a reason." You cup her face with your hands. "Though I have not made a promise to your father, I had kept this piece of history deep within the wells of my heart. But for you I shall. To guide you into your marriage, and to comfort you that no matter what happens, no matter what tragedy curses your vows, you are able to control your future. You are no mere wife. Your blood sings above the sheep alike, and with it, a reminder to all that you are a dragon and nothing less."

You release her face, smiling gently, before you tug her to the bed. "We have time for a story, I'm sure. They cannot start it without a queen nor the bride."

"The story where your rage nearly tore Winterfell to ashes?" She frowns. "How does father fare in this?"

"Oh, he had lied to me."

"Father?! Lied?"

You tap her lips. "You must take this story to your bosom. And you must not look at your father any differently. He is changed now. He has kept his vows with much sincerity." Though a certain bitter triumph echoes in your heart at the idea that his own daughter might look at him with hatred.

The years had been kind to you, yes. But by no means have you met it with ease. The crown you bear on your head bore witness to every battle you had won, every war you had forged, and only those who understood its stench know of the blood you had spilled to get it.

And though you have forgiven him long before, the memory sings old embers anew.

"Her name was Sara Snow, and your father had dared..."

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[hungrydogs-if]

I scoured through every crumb of this blog and am appalled that there aren't more jealousy asks. So I'm fixing it. How do the ROs act when they're jealous? (I know this might be a toxic thing please feel free to ignore (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠))

babe we're talking about a bunch of gun-toting rat bastard outlaws with a numerous amount of local arrest warrants (and federal ones!) here, i think it's already in the realm toxic lol

dane's jealousy levels are an intricate machine with complex nuances - i'm shitting you, it depends how drunk and/or how deep in his feels he is. goes just from simply hovering with a lot of touches here and there, to some very creative ways to make the situation stop.

mona doesn't get jealous, she gets exasperated. straight to the point, whenever she feels like she needs to at least do something, she'll just throw you over her shoulder and walk away lol. there's not much else to it, she just doesn't feel the jealousy bug like others.

angel is a bit of a outlier because they don't get jealous in a traditional sense. they're too overworked to give feeling like that a second thought, but they get even more immersed in their work if they do come across whatever could cause jealousy. denial is a river in egypt and all that.

sam is surprisingly the worst of them. they don't do the whole possessive "you can't see x/y/z because i say so" but more like... insecure. they'll try to bribe you with gifts and then spiral into guilt because they realize that's technically lovebombing. they get better if there's a talk about it though.

thirteen has experienced jealousy very, very, very rarely. hell, they really don't care about anything anyway, what reason do they have to be jealous? if they did have a moment like this though, it's likely that they start hovering and taking a keen interest in whatever the object of their jealousy is doing.