#tw; criminals and gangsters

[terrence-silver]

Do you have any headcanons on Gus Travis? I've just watched Black Point and I think I'm in love 💖

Him?

― Gus Travis has a major problem with jealousy. Why? Because outside of having a natural propensity for doubt (maybe due to the nature of his job, being a career criminal where you have to watch your back, against everyone, at all times) his wife betrayed him in the past and ran off with another man covertly acting as an informant and Gus' boss' money. Almost sounds like the typical entanglement in the life of someone on the wrong side of law enforcement hiding out in a small port town on the borders of Alaska and Washington state, but the event left Gus reeling, even less trusting and somehow, even more territorial and fidgety when it comes to love as a mere concept. In short notes, Gus Travis is as jaded as can be.

― Which means, despite seeming like the type who has had his share of easy sex, easy cash, easy profit, murky jobs, shady deals, Gus doesn't fall in love easily. Not before the event and certainly not after. He's a rough man, with a rough exterior, rough manners, a rough job and initially, he doesn't seem like the type to care for such things at all, but the opposite is very much true because internally, he's someone who tends to fall and fall hard which has left him messed up in the past. In his words, I treated her like a princess and gave her the world and this is how she repays me? He doesn't want that happening again and so, when he meets you, his first instinct is to be standoffish and stay away from you. Better yet, warn you to say away from him.

― Might have the typical gangbanger 'Do you know who I am?' or 'Do you know who you're dealing with?' vibe about him purely to push you away, even though he's quite as likely to contradict himself and be the one pursuing you. Gus overflows with clashing emotions where he isn't certain if he'd rather scare you away or lay his claim on you and make you his. Maybe just visit some nearby, shady portside pub and get himself someone who looks just like you; a whore, a hooker, a one night stand, anything, and get you out of his system through fucking someone else, not that that helps one bit at all and everyone either looks too much like you or not at all and he always comes back to craving the real deal, and he hasn't...well, he hasn't even laid a finger on you yet.

― Thing is, as I said above, Gus loves deeply. A surprising amount for someone who could only be labeled a bad boy and something of a thug in the most classical sense. The type of love that has him tattooing your name somewhere on his body --- maybe next to his heart, perhaps way before you even know it...or him --- wearing maching clothes, wearing matching rings and bracelets and necklaces. Where he dreams of buying a boat one day, sailing out with a bunch of cash, and naming it after you, as his muse, his lucky north, his compass. Where he sees you as his near overromanticized mythical being. His mermaid. His selkie. His siren. Interesting how someone otherwise so bitter and disappointed with love also has the amazing capacity of being borderline poetically idealistic.

― Of course, the nature of his career criminal leanings and rough and tough sailor and streetwise lifestyle might not exactly allow for him to express his idealistic side outright because there's a reputation to maintain and part of him doesn't want to. And yet, he still desperately does to the point his cravings are making him volatile. He fears being a fool in love again. He fears his men viewing him as a fool in love too. So, he might come off a bit hostile and passive aggressive; like someone who has a general distaste for you, which is far from true, his behaviour ranging anywhere from acosting you in public or god forbid, anyone you might be out on a date with, because he's fatally jealous. Gus can't handle himself or the gravitas of his feelings around you and he protects himself through what he feels is nessecary. Through being a bit of a bastard.

― It doesn't remain unnoticed though; just how much attention Gus Travis is giving you, even if this attention is masked through the guise of negative social interactions. It all becomes suspicious, though. The sheer quantity and volume of it. Him stalking you, catcalling you from his car, threatening to goddamn near shoot anyone else who dares, honking his horn at you, bullying you one minute and then flirting the next, harassing your friends and suitors out in bars or restaurants, having them scared away from you or outright beat up so they'd be afraid to stay in touch with you, being pushy, intrusive, threatening and petulant, having his men follow you around covertly and report back to him on your daily whereabouts, offering to lend you money so you'd be indebted to him, breaking into your place, kidnapping attempts. You name it!

― Ultimately, you will be his, and his grip on you will be tighter than any relationship he ever had before because he dreads losing you like he's lost meanigful people in the past and it has his possessive tendencies flaring up dramatically; he will correct the mistakes he made before you came along, he swears it. Realistically, he is difficult. Very difficult. He is difficult because he overcompensates. Overcalculates. Over-worries. He questions every interaction, every glance, ever action, imaginary or real, towards someone else from you or from you to someone else because the dread of you being whisked away from under him is acute, and so, most people never even discover Gus Travis even has anyone serious as you're his most fiercely guarded treasure. Hell, not even most of his men and crooks know. And if nobody knows you exist and you're merely abducted one day --- missing posters riddling your home town, only for you never to be found again, then nobody can coax you away from him in the future.

[call-sign-shark]

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

[buccini555]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♡ What would it be like to have a secret relationship with one of the city's most dangerous gangsters? (NSFW Imagine)

♡ H e a d c a n o n s/I m a g i n e s .ᐟ .ᐟ

♡ 𝑭𝒕. Kokonoi Hajime

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 . 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 . 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 . 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 ♡ . 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

tw: none, he's a sweetheart

𝗞𝗼𝗸𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗶 𝗛𝗮𝗷𝗶𝗺𝗲: Kokonoi had already kept his eyes on you for some time, never ceasing to show interest, Koko waited anxiously to be reciprocated by you, of course, wherever you were in the same environment, he would do everything to get your attention and as soon as he finally won you over, he would become the romantic and passionate type.

Koko has no limits when it comes to you, he is totally obsessed with you, there is nothing that Kokonoi wouldn't do for you, despite being a criminal, he treats you with all the passion that someone could treat, even making you feel forget about his "dirty work", he has no toxic traits and tries to keep your relationship healthy and respectful, despite being completely crazy about you.

Your meetings usually take place in luxurious places, hotels, resorts, apartments, suites or restaurants, he makes a point of taking you to the best places he can provide you, Kokonoi wouldn't mind taking over your relationship if he didn't belong to a criminal organization, he just keeps your relationship private as a precaution, even so, Koko doesn't mind appearing with you in public rarely.

It's a fact that Kokonoi's way of showing love is through gifts, jewelry, designer clothes and shoes, special treatments, you never lack that, he makes a point of always keeping you at your peak, Koko never denies how passionate he is for you even though on many occasions he ends up being somewhat absent due to his work, even if such work is stressful, Kokonoi has never shown irritation with you, on the contrary, you keep him calm after so many hours making some money for prioritize spending on treats aimed at you.

tw: Kokonoi being a sweetheart, oral sex mention, unprotected sex, a lot of pet names(sweet, sweetheart, honey, baby, babygirl and others) Kokonoi asking to be called "daddy" and I think that's it

"You look perfect as always, my sweetheart." Kokonoi entered the suite door surreptitiously and when he saw you getting ready in front of the mirror to go to bed soon, he couldn't stop being impressed and praise you, the taller remained leaning against the doorframe watching you attentively from top to bottom, noticing every detail in you while smiling subtly.

You turned to him zipping up the top of your lacy nightgown, returning the smile he maintained, you stood up from your vanity chair and approached Kokonoi. "Thank you, you must be so tired, you should get some rest, don't you, sweet?" You questioned, holding the taller's face and bringing him closer.

"It's true, I'm tired, but not for you, babygirl." Holding your hand and kissing it gently, he responded, still looking you up and down.

"Are you sure, Koko? You spent so much time working today..." In a tone of concern, you questioned him again, noticing those looks coming from him and returning them.

He smiled again, maintaining a smirk as he looked into your eyes. "Thank you for worrying about me, I'm fine." Kokonoi cupped his face and kissed his lips in a brief touch. "And I really don't want to talk about work right now..." Kokonoi brought you closer, pulling you tightly by his waist.

"So what do you want, Koko?" Biting your own lip, you asked your question while the taller made your body shiver with every touch of your newly hydrated skin.

He laughed, looking away from you for a moment. "What a silly question, it's obvious, I want what's mine." Kokonoi stated, returning his attention to you.

"What?" You asked in order to provoke him even more.

"You." He said, picking you up and putting you on the bed right away.

You linked your arms above the older man's shoulders, making him stay even closer while Koko occupied your lips with a slow and intense kiss at the same time, the thin fabric of your nightwear kept your body semi exposed, making it so the moment became even hotter, the touches intensified as the taller's hands ran all over your body, making your heart speed up, then he slowly pulled one of the straps of your clothes, keeping you practically naked in front of his eyes.

"You're hot... Like... So fucking hot, girl." Keeping you on top of him, Kokonoi said somewhat breathlessly.

"I'm yours." Soon after, you responded by caressing his face while keeping your hips steady.

Again, he held you for a kiss that extended to your neck and breasts, Kokonoi didn't mind leaving you with some marks and did so, leaving your lap full of hickeys while he grabbed your breasts without so much kindness, making you let out a few noises.

Pushing Kokonoi's platinum hair aside, you unbuttoned the crimson shirt he was wearing. "What are you waiting for?" You questioned, also leaving your pajamas aside.

"Fuck, love." Seeing you naked, he exclaimed. "I love it when you show off for me." He held you again, this time, putting you against the bed, getting on top of you and holding your wrists in a way where you remained completely still, so he kissed you again, moving each kiss down your body until he reached your pussy, Kokonoi knew exactly how to use his tongue, making your body go into ecstasy while he was doing his job, he licked your clit like a kitten, Koko would definitely not leave his legs until she felt your entire body tremble announcing one more orgasm.

"K-koko..." You moaned his name as he used his tongue and fingers, then, making you fall apart on his lips, it was as if time had stopped and you had simply lost control of your body that he was shaking and sweating. "I'm just getting started, princess." Standing up and wiping his face, he said directly in a few words. "I-I, I want more." After Koko spoke, you ordered from him while watching him panting. "You'll have it, sweetheart." Unbuttoning the buttons on the tailored pants he was currently wearing, he said, moving closer to you, pulling your hips forward on the bed. "I love you so much, my precious." Before starting such an act, he said, making you moan instantly, he was definitely worried about your well-being and started with subtle and at the same time deep movements that soon intensified, Koko He wouldn’t mind fucking you until you begged him to stop and so he did, making you feel every thrust. "I have to get back to my work, dollface." Holding your neck lightly, he said as he kept thrusting into you. "N-no, stay, Koko, p-please." Amid your heavy breathing and moans, you asked him to keep crossing your legs around the taller's waist, ending up making him go even deeper inside you. "F-fuck..." He sighed soon after, feeling how hot and tight you remained, making him even more excited and urged to satisfy you completely. "I-I'm not leaving here until I see you satisfied, my princess, so... I'll have to be faster." From that moment on, he completely lost his fear of hurting you, going even faster and deeper, more and more until he reached his peak again. "K-koko, I... I can't take it anymore, I-I..." You said as you tried to control his body, but, he was really willing to test your limits. "Shii... Stay quiet, babygirl." Covering his mouth, he exclaimed, keeping the same pace, Kokonoi knew that his goal would be achieved soon, so he just focused on giving you as much pleasure as possible to compensate for his absence.

"What are you mine? Tell me right now..." He questioned after fucking you for a few minutes without stopping.

You couldn't even respond amid each thrust, so Koko questioned again. "What are you mine? Mm?" You looked at the taller one with teary eyes. "I-I'm yours, only yours." Responding Kokonoi, you delivered your speech briefly.

"Who's your daddy?" He questions again as he gets more and more fucked up.

"Y-you're my daddy, Koko." You responded, feeling his dick going deeper and deeper as he gets excited about being called daddy.

At that point, Koko already knew that you couldn't take it anymore, so, finally, he kept going faster until you definitely couldn't take it, withdrawing from inside you while attentively watching you already satisfied.

"I have to go, baby..." Getting off of you, Kokonoi said in a crestfallen tone.

You grabbed his arm and hugged him. "Come back later, you'll be back, won't you?"

He let go of the hug and went to get dressed right away. "I have to go back to finish what we started..." With a smirk, he replied, shortly after, Koko kissed you on the forehead and placed you under the linen, caressing your face before getting ready for return to the work he had left behind.

[alittlehurtwithyourcomfort]

Vigilante Kdrama Whumplist

Character: Kim Ji Yong (played by Nam Joo-hyuk)

Age Rating: TV-MA

Show available on Hulu

Genre: Crime, Mystery, Action, Superhero

Synopsis: Kim Ji Yong, a student at the police academy, lost his mother at the hands of a local gangster when he was young; he becomes a vigilante and kills criminals. (via Google)

Note: This is a dark series, there's a good amount of whump but be careful watching because it handles very sensitive subjects.

TW's: blood and gore, violence towards women and children, domestic abuse, gun violence, sexual assault/non-con, suicide, mental illness

List Key:

bold = most whump, best whump, or favorite whump scenes

~ = a scene break

THIS LIST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

1x01: angry, punched, covered in blood (not his own), teary-eyed ~~ sparred ~~ multiple fights, angry

1x02: angry, worried ~~ angry, pushed up against a wall and kissed (kind of non-consensual), drugged, very out of it ~~ rough awakening, frustrated ~~ teary-eyed ~~ covered in blood (not his own) teary-eyed ~~ exhausted

1x03: stressed ~~ angry, heavy breathing

1x04: rough fight, argued, bloody face ~~ treating cuts on his face ~~ bruised and bandaged face ~~ confrontation

1x05: fought, stressed ~~ chased, angry, teary-eyed, very rough fight, choked, very bloody face, struggling to breathe

1x06: (scene cont. from previous ep) strained voice, punched, collapsed, groaning ~~ unconscious in hospital bed, slowly waking up, bandaged, bruised face, oxygen cannula ~~ bruised face ~~ covered in blood (not his own) ~~ angry

1x07: stressed ~~ argued, teary-eyed 

1x08: fought, cut face ~~ very rough fights, bloody face and mouth, sad, stabbed in the leg, in pain, collapsed, weak, unconscious ~~ bandaged, bruised face

[queenofthedisneyverse]

Ain't no love in the heart of the city - prologue

TW: mentions of g*n violence, character death, tween's getting injured.

IF YOU ARE ABOVE 16 YEARS OLD DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST

Manny - Masc y/n

Femmiya - femme y/n

Nebbi - Nonbinary y/n

(you don't have to take the names seriously, just as a heads-up Miles G will be in a poly relationship with Manny, Femmiya, and Nebbi)

In the ruthless streets of New York, love was a pretty hard thing to find. Tch, a true friend is hard to find, let alone a lover. New York was only for criminals and  fugitives. The world around New York is surprised that normal people still live there. 

It wasn’t always this bad, when Jefferson Morales it was semi peaceful.Yeah criminals still existed but he made things a little better. He was a true man of kindness and peace, he sometimes got young gangsters and drug addicts off the streets with just his words. He was really a god sent, his wife and brother couldn’t be more thankful for him. And that was more emphasized when it came to his son Miles. Miles was such a bright, happy, and smart kid always being funny in one way or another.  

Miles looked up to his father so much, when he was young he would often play cops & robbers with his friends or with his dad & uncle. But everyone knew being a cop wasn’t Miles’ passion, his passion was to be a physics scientist or an engineer. So Jefferson and Rio tried to put him in the best programs so he could pursue this passion the best he can. 

When he wasn’t being smarty pants and had time to play, he would play with his friends. These friends were Manny Jones, Femmiya Collins, and Nebbi Wilson. There was no way you could ever separate them once they were together. It would be like trying to separate a crocodile from meat, not happening. 

They were all so adorable when they met up, they would always do a group hug once they saw each other. Always melted the heart of their parents. Whenever there was a playdate, some parent had to take pictures and share them once the playdate was over. 

The shining four would always play something crazy that would get either all or one of them hurt. Nebby got a chipped tooth because they thought it was a good idea to jump off the patio railing. 

“We were playing superhero” nebby pouted…with a broken  tooth as they were being raced to the hospital. But it was all good fun, and they never cared when they got an injury. They just kept playing until a parent noticed someone was bleeding. 

The parents would also notice something about the shining four, the little friend group would always get blushy around each other. Nebbi would get blushy around femmiya, femmiya would get blushy around Menson, and Menson would get blushy around Miles and vice versa. Though they were all young at the time, they couldn’t have had a crush on each other right? 

As they got into their tween years they mellowed a little, just a little. If there were times when no one was hurt, everything would be peaceful. Birthday parties and just parties in general would always be a blast. 

The shining four all had big families so whoever had a birthday their entire friends’ family would be invited over and mingle. Same for cookouts, EVERYBODY is invited as long as they contribute something. Which everyone always did whether it be food, handing out needed plates, or cleaning duty. 

Today was just like that, everybody was around just enjoying their time. The park was a perfect place for a family function, why wouldn’t it be? Everyone gathered around on this special day and just hung out. Rio was making jokes, Jefferson was playing cards. Kemani and Lyla (femmiya’s parents) were dancing together, Dwayne and Shana(Nebbi’s parents) were at the card table with jefferson. Menson’s mom was dancing as well. Manny’s father, Demetrius,  however looked worried and paranoid. 

All he did was hang in the corner and watched as everyone was happy, sweat falling down both sides of his face as he kept looking at his watch. Jefferson noticed and called him over for a game of cards, the man accepted and sat down next to him. 

“You ok man, you're sweating like a sinner in church” Jefferson said, chuckling at his own words. 

“I’m aight man, just hot out here” demetrius said, wiping the sweat off his face. 

3

It was not hot at all, it was 78 degrees outside. Perfect summer weather, but Jefferson didn’t press further. He wasn’t that kind of man. So they continued playing cards, demetrius never smiled or laughed at any joke that was said though, Jeff caught on but…not in time. 

2

The music was just kicking up, everybody was making it to the dance floor with their partner or just by themselves.All the kids were there, showing off some moves their parents may have shown them or something they learned from watching MTV. 

1

*BANG* 

Three gunshots, it took 10 gunshots to disrupt a family function. It took one gunshot to hit Manny who was only dancing, it took a 2nd gunshot to hit femmiya who was getting a cup of juice. It took a third gunshot to hit Nebbi, who was going to find Miles. It took a 4th gunshot to hit Demitrius…it took a 5th gunshot to kill Jefferson Morales. 

Jefferson died a hero, he instantly tried to save Demitrius who got hit by the bullet. Jefferson died trying to save the life of his best friend. Jefferson died without saying goodbye to his wife,  brother…and his son. 

It was chaos, people were screaming. Kids were screaming, everybody was scrambling or just froze from the sudden shock. Parents were looking for their kids, some parents were rushing their child to the hospital. 

All of it went by so fast, Rio didn’t know what was going on. She couldn’t find her son and she couldn’t find her husband. The people around were making that oh so difficult, she was panicking more by the second. 

She found Miles, he was hiding under the table and crying his eyes out with his arms wrapped around his head. Rio pulled him from under the table and ran to the parking lot where they hid on the side of some cars. Life was different after this day…

-

Miles didn’t know what was going on. One second his family was smiling and happy, no sadness in sight. The next thing he knew half of his family members, some related or not related,  and friends were clinging to life in the hospital…and his father was dead. He didn’t want to believe, He couldn’t believe it, he would not believe it. 

Once he came to terms with..the incident he changed, and not for the better. He would lash out, yell, cry, and just be numb. It was an ongoing cycle for a long time until he had no more emotions to really give out. 

Rio did try to be there for him as for his uncle and lovers. They always sat through his rages or his tears and tried to help the best they could. But they knew they couldn’t mend that heart that was growing bitter and hateful toward the world by the hour. 

Miles didn’t go to the funeral, he just couldn’t. 

 Manny , Femmiya, Nebbi, and Miles started dating at 13. The incident did cause them to put a semi hold on the relationship but they did try to comfort him like lovers were supposed to. No matter how much he tossed hurtful words at them, they knew he didn’t mean it and he would apologize soon after so it wasn’t a problem. 

 Manny , Femmiya, and Nebbi changed too, and not for the better. They were basically going through the same thing as Miles, they viewed Jeff as their second or only father or a Tio. They would often call him pa and rio ma because they were so close. 

They also became oh so bitter and cold toward anyone who wasn’t a relative or friend. They would be nice but only to people who didn’t seem like they had a problem or needed help. 

They often helped Rio when they could, whether it be with groceries, looking after miles, or helping with cleaning the house. No money needed. 

The world around them began to get worse as the months went on. Crime spiked up and just over all terrible things kept happening to people. New York was no oasis, but it was at least liveable in certain areas. 

It’s not like that anymore, if you don’t live in a gated community and can hire someone to do basic things for you. You might as well carry a knife, taser, gun, and machete with you at times. Things are neutral in the daytime but that doesn’t mean you're safe, there are still sh!tty people around. 

The prowler and his friends did make things semi better, they would “take care of” a lot of evil people. Yeah sometimes innocent people got hurt in the process but at least they were making a small difference.  

Oh yeah, the shining four are the prowler’s of New York. Well, Miles is THE prowler. You could say his lovers are variants of him, all three of them have different styles and colors. It was a tough job but it paid well. It kept their families financially stable and were able to pay for things themselves if there was some money left. 

The relationship between the shining four has blossomed into love, even though they already loved each other since they were kids. They kind of find their relationship Ironic, especially when it comes to a certain lyric

“Ain't no love in the heart of the city” 

There was no love in this place, only heartless savage people. But somehow the four of you found love in a heartless city. Because of this love, you four try to stick together the best you can. For better or for worse. 

Come along and join the shining four as they navigate through a heartless city while trying to maintain love.

@weirdo09 @clearskiiiess@ @purplemauves

[rreskk]

Hello ! Do you still make story with Michael ? I saw a last post where you said you did, but i don't know if it's still on

If you still doing it, what about Michael who's going to a coffee shop for chilling because Amanda upset him another time and the only sit available is next to Reader. They start talking aaaaand flirting. Finish in Reader's apartment with a dom Michael 👀

A/N: I'm always open to write about other GTA V characters! :))

Summary: Michael is in need of some company and found the perfect person.

TW: Smut

Michael took off his glasses and inspected the small café that sat in between two large buildings. He moved open the entrance and the sound of plates clattering and people chattering alarmed him of the increased population amongst the small café. He frowned at the displeasure of being out of a peaceful environment but decided this was better than seeing Amanda again.

The retired criminal slowly observed any vacant seats; finding one that faced you. He was hesitant considering you had your headphones on, reading a rather large novel. He was going to turn back but a waiter kindly spoken and raised attention of the empty seat, also managing to distract you so you had the pleasure of watching Michael try and ease his way out of the café.

You noticed he was finding it difficult accepting the seat because you seemed to not want disturbance.

“I’m not busy at all,” You called out to the man. “You can take this seat, I don’t mind.”

Michael’s tense face hadn’t changed. He didn’t speak another word but painfully sat himself down. The table was small and you were practically breathing on each other.

“I know what you are thinking,” You imputed. “This place is too small for over 50 customers.”

He breathed out a chuckle. “You couldn’t be more right.”

You assumed the conversation wasn’t going to stop and you had closed your book. Michael glanced sneakily at the front cover before smiling widely and pointing. He immediately recognised his favourite piece of literature that evolved into a gangster movie from the 1940s.

“The silent man! I love that movie!”

His outburst startled you a bit. He seemed reserved at first, almost antisocial that you couldn’t imagine him beaming so brightly.

“Oh, yes! Yes, of course,” You chuckled. “Classic movie, but also a classic book. I’m rereading it for the hundredth time.”

Michael’s body sprawled out more comfortably that he had forgotten he came in here for coffee.

“I don’t read but I must say, I’d gladly read that book.”

His remark made you hum thoughtfully.

“I suppose you could be a good movie critic.” You sarcastically joked with a side smirk.

Michael’s smile was covered by his hand as he looked deeply into your eyes. While you sipped your own hot drink, he inquired another question. This time, he wasn’t curious, he was testing you.

“What is your favourite movie?”

You fell silent as you processed your favourites in your head. It was a hard decision and you began giggling out of pressure.

“I can’t say I have just one.” You concluded.

He sat back. “Pick as many as you want. I’ll probably know them.”

You first impressions of him consists of a intense movie addict. His dark eyes and gloomy expression would predict he’s just about on his last straw, yet he is still so confident and cocky.

“The silent man… Gary Trench, and 1926 Vinewood Gangster series called Evermore.” You listed out precisely.

Michael’s face brightened when he recognised all of those movies. He laughed out loud and clapped his hands. While he laughed, you could smell his breath and identify him being a smoker, while also smelling aspects of whiskey.

“Oh man, if only I could show you to my wife! She does not believe people watch 1920 Gangsters.” He remarked.

The subject of his wife suddenly tore apart your occurring interest to him. Your energy dilated and you smiled awkwardly at his statement. How could him being married affect you so much that you were pondering reasons to leave? You’d constantly tell yourself to get a grip as he rambled on about his argument with his wife that apparently happened this morning. That was when he looked at you and smiled cheaply

“I assume you can’t relate?”

You gazed confusingly as he cleared his throat and apologised for the lack of clarity.

“I assume you are not married?” Michael corrected himself.

You quickly shook your head. “Oh, no. I’m not married.”

He soon dug a deeper hole in the subject. “Are you single?”

Your cheeks grew red. This guy looks about 40, clearly a dad, clearly in a failed marriage, and you have the hots for him? Sadly.

“Yes.” You admitted.

Michael nodded and seemed to engage in his own thoughts.  

He opened his mouth to speak again. “Are you not looking for a relationship? Sorry, I’m just surprised that a girl like you ain’t got a boyfriend or husband,” He licked his teeth. “You are very pretty after all.”

You wanted to cuss at him for making you feel more frustratingly heated.

“That’s very kind of you but… You are still married.”

Michael went wide eyed after realising.

“Shit, yeah sorry,” He sheepishly apologised. “We just haven’t been getting along for the past few years. I doubt we’ll last in this marriage.”

You crossed your eyebrows and reached for his hand in a comforting manner.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

The man returned your gesture before finding himself attracted to your eyes. He tried to focus on something else but struggled to. He really found you interesting and came to the conclusion that he wanted to have your name.

“Excuse my manners, I don’t seem to know your name.”

You took a sip from your coffee. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Michael. It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.” He’d compliment and you’d blush pathetically again.

A waiter approached your table and held out a notebook, asking Michael what he wanted to drink or eat. He dismissed the worker and you questioned his actions.

“You didn’t want anything to drink?” You asked

“I wanted to, but I’ve found talking to you to be more pleasurable.”

What did that even mean? You didn’t want to take it the wrong way. Something about his charming smile. Fuck his charming smile… You couldn’t resist him. Even though he looks like nothing different to what you see on a daily basis, his personality had held a chokehold on you since he took interest in your novel.

“Hey, Michael.”

He hummed.

You took a deep breath. “I have somewhere to be later tonight. I can take you back to mine? We can share a drink.”

The man inspected you. “You sure?”

You could easily protest your need for him right now, but you luckily held a grudge.

“Of course, no big deal.”

Michael raised from his seat and gave you a slow blink. He was obviously a paranoid man. You’ve noticed how he’d glance at anyone walking past when talking. He’d sit like he was expecting someone to randomly attempt an assassination.

“Did you walk?” You’d attempt to lighten the mood.

He nodded and you pulled out your car keys, offering to give him a ride which he weirdly accepted.

While you began driving downtown, conversation grew more loud and active. Michael was talking again. He was explaining his impression of the 1980 intake of movies, as it made a big impact to industry. You made am assumption that crackled him up. While he’d chuckle, his hand slid onto your knee, edging towards your thigh. You had said something about it but Michael would shrug it off, saying “you seemed like you needed to relax” and carried on smoothing your thigh. He was wrong. You were perfectly calm until he pulled that stunt. Now you were a blushing mess.

“Michael.” You warned as he grew adventurous. His fingers were barely scraping your crotch area.

He hushed you for a moment before justifying himself.

“Don’t speak. Let me relieve you.” His voice was strong and dominating. This guy has wife and kids, and you are letting him exploit you in such ways. It made you grow more and more horny knowing this.

You’ve managed to make it to your apartment but when the door closed, his hands were on you faster than bullets.

Michael groped your skin and fondled your neck with his teeth. You pushed him towards your bedroom before the man attacked your lips, making you both fall upon the sheets.

“Michael-“ You gasped when he exposed your breasts and tickled them with his tongue.

He held a hand over your mouth and whispered in your ear. “Desperate for me?”

You nodded and held him close; whimpering when he’d leave space between your bodies.

“Let me hear that pretty voice again.”

Michael forced a finger into your mouth, grinning when you’d suck and taste it. His trousers were torn off the second you unbuckled his belt and you gasped. His dick was hugely erected. It shivered and twitched when you’d make contact with his cold skin, yearning to be in warmth, yearning to be inside you.

“Open your legs.” He ordered.

You spread them like an obedient dog. His dick lined with your throbbing entrance and he thrusted that your skins slapped together. You screeched and moaned for more.

“Moan louder for me, baby,” He whined, hands gripping on your hips as he’d increase his speed. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

He was ruining your insides so perfectly. Every hit, you’d combust into stages of ecstasy. Every groaning and moaning grows louder and needier. Michael began panting so hard he was hovering over you, lips touching yours as you’d kiss while he utterly fucked you.

“Fuck me,” You whispered against him. “Fuck!”

“Yes, fucking yes! Baby!”

You grew itsy under his grasp and edged into his nude body, wanting to cum so badly.

“I need to!-“ You wailed before he thrusted and abused your G spot; losing control of your orgasm that you came all over his dick and bedsheets.

Michael gasped when the warm liquid cakes him. His arms shook and he’d collapse beside you, coming all over your stomach and breasts; hissing like he was in pleasurable pain.

You grasped his hand and panted. “Oh fuck, that was so good.”

He stared at the ceiling, sweat drooling from his hairline and back. He looked bewildered and astounded. Michael looked at you as if he hadn’t had good sex in years. The shameless proud expression covering his weak face.

“I wish I’d have met you 10 years ago.” He proclaimed and you chuckled.

“Only for you.”

[dontatmethanks]

Fanfiction Master-list (With Links)

- Multichapters-

• I Will Always Find You: Modern Zombie Apocalypse AU, TWD inspired (Ongoing) Chapters 15/?

• Out Of Nowhere: Modern AU, Farm raised Hange/City boy Levi (Completed) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3 Chapters 14/14

• Of Swords and Sparrows: Royal AU, Arraigned Marriage, Fem!Levi/Masc!Hange (Completed) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3 Chapters 12/12

• Always You: College AU, Friends with benefits, mutual pining, Fem!Levi/Masc!Hange (Completed) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3 Chapters 18/18

• The Pledge: College AU, Fake dating, Fem!Levi/Masc!Hange (Ongoing) In collaboration with zoes_eyepatch on Ao3 Chapters 1/?

• Vertigo and The Silver Shadow: Vigilantes AU, super powers (ongoing) in collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3 Chapters 2/?

• Winter’s Fang: Canon Divergent, Survival, Semi Levi centric (Ongoing) Chapters 1/?

• Hidden In Plain Sight: Modern AU, Sci-Fi, Aliens (Ongoing) Chapters 2/3

• The Thing About Us Abnormals: Canon Divergent, Pregnancy/baby (In Hiatus) Chapters 5/?

• A Thousand bad times…Makes Something Irreplaceable: Modern AU, Family fluff, 104th & levihan (In Hiatus) Chapters 2/?

• Part Of Your World: Modern AU, Mermaid!Levi/Scientist-Dr!Hange (In Hiatus) Chapters 7/?

• Damaged Freaks: Modern AU, High School, heavy themes/TWs (Incomplete) Chapters 3/?

• Hard As Nails: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Ittosara (Genshin Impact) No Visions, Modern Teyvat (Ongoing) Chapters 1/?

-Oneshots-

• Budding: Modern AU, Florist! Hange & Tattoo Artist! Levi, Valentine’s Day fluff, childhood friends, reconnecting

• All The Way Home I’ll Be Warm: Modern AU, Businessman! Levi & Scientist! Hange, christmas fluff, sick Levi

• Caught In Your Web: Spider-Man! Hange, Journalist! Levi (Part 1 of the Spider-Hange series) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3

• Stuck On You: Spider-Man! Hange, Journalist! Levi (Part 2 of the Spider-Hange series) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3

• Noisy: Modern AU, Neighbors, Firefighter Levi

• Anytime: Ittosara, canon divergent, hurt Sara (Genshin Impact)

• Reminders: Spider-Dad Miguel O’Hara, Spider Kids, Found Family, grief/mourning, fluff (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse)

• Claw and Order: Spider-Dad Miguel O’Hara, Spider Kids, Found Family, spider-gang hijinks, fluff (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse)

• The Kids Will Be Alright: Spider-Dad Miguel O’Hara, Spider Kids, Found Family, Blood and Injury, hurt/comfort (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse)

• Not So Artificial: Modern cyberpunk-ish AU, Scientist Hange/Android Levi

• Bang: Modern AU, Bank Heist, Criminal Veterans

• Teeny Tiny Widdle Basbsbsby Kiss Kiss Love That Widdle Tiny: Modern AU, Racecar Driver!Levi/Pit Crew Member!Hange (Part 1 of the NASCAR Racing AU series) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3

• Crash: Modern AU, Racecar Driver!Levi/Pit Crew Member!Hange (Part 2 of the NASCAR Racing AU series) In collaboration with Hamandcheesebaguette on Ao3

• Goodnight: Canon Divergent, Found Family, 104th & Levihan

• And Many More: Canon Divergent, Post-Rumbling, Hange’s Birthday

• The Sun Goes With You: Modern AU, Tragedy

• Fifth Time’s The Charm: Modern AU, Getting together, First Kiss

• Baby Fever: Modern Gangster AU, Semi-Domestic

• Bring You Home: Modern AU, Homicide Detective!Levi/Forensic Scientist!Hange, Criminal Minds Inspired

• Companion: Modern AU, Cat Shifter!Levi/College student!Hange

• Staying Alive: Modern Zombie Apocalypse AU

• Darling I’m Right Here: Canon Divergent, Hurt/Comfort

• Precarious Acquaintances: 1920’s AU, Mob Boss!Levi/Journalist!Hange, Meet-Cute

• I Love You: Modern AU, Song-fic

• Love, I’ll Serve It To You: Modern AU, Businessman!Levi/ Restaurant Server & Manager!Hange, Meet-Cute (Part 1 of the Eat Your Heart Out series)

• And Later We’ll Have Dessert: Modern AU, Businessman!Levi/ Restaurant Server & Manager!Hange (Part 2 of the Eat Your Heart Out series)

• 1/4 Teaspoon Of Your Love And Affection: Modern AU, Businessman!Levi/ Restaurant Server & Manager!Hange (Part 3 of the Eat Your Heart Out series)

• The Flavors That Make You: Modern AU, Businessman!Levi/ Restaurant Server & Manager!Hange (Part 4 of the Eat Your Heart Out series)

• Brain On Fire: Modern AU, Erurihan, Epileptic Hange, College AU-ish

• Tongue And Cheek: Modern AU, High School setting

Will be updated frequently, happy reading!💜

[reaworldwrites]

The Truthseer: A Sapphic Witch Fantasy Series

Loss of a single parent, grieving (tw: mentions su*cide)

Long lost family, found family

Slowburn FF Romance

Adorable psychic witch girl protagonist with a big heart and a lot of nerve who bites off more than she can chew

Badass handsome-sexy grumpy ginger werewolf girl with a criminal past and a secret heart of gold who begrudgingly comes to the sunshine-y protag's rescue

Amateur sleuthing misadventures

A sneaky suave witch gangster girl who wears black suits and knows more about the protag than the protag knows about herself

Missing werewolves, angry ghosts, scheming covens, chaotic visions, magic shenanigans, and so much more...

Magic and supernatural beings are an everyday part of life. Shifters, witches, and humans coexist, each with their own unique abilities and talents, secrets and weaknesses.

A Seer Witch is the rarest of all. Most coveted and most vulnerable.

That makes Olivia "Olive" Bregar no ordinary girl.

Truthseer, empath, psychic, that moon-eyed girl. People call her a lot of things, but brave has never been one of them.

When Seer Olivia loses her mother unexpectedly, she gains the keys to a powerful and mysterious legacy. Her journey begins with the deed to her grandmother's mystic healing shop in the eccentric town where she was born.

With friends she least expected and family she never knew by her side, Olive uses her sacred power to guide the lost and lift the fallen, carving out her own destiny one solved mystery at a time.

Ebook , Vella Series

[jeonginkang]

[Gong Yoo — 42 — he/him] Introducing JEONG-IN “SNOW WHITE” KANG . Word on the street is they are a RETIRED CSI / CLEANER and member of SYNDICATE for the past 3 MONTHS . Though they are DETACHED  and  ARROGANT , they can also be  PATIENT  and  RELIABLE . In the chaos of New York City, they’re sure to fit right in.

TW: mention of death, animal cruelty, nsfw subjects

— BASICS

Name: Jeong-in Kang Age / D.O.B.: 42, March 13th 1981 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: cis male, he/him & demi-homosexual Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Affiliation: Syndicate (3 months starting January 11th 2024) Job position: Retired CSI / Cleaner Education: Bachelor of Science in Criminal Justice (MS in Crime Scene Investigation) Relationship status: Single Children: – Positive traits: methodical, patient, intelligent, reliable, kind, witty Negative traits: detached, uncommitted, arrogant, condescending, liar, apathetic

— BIOGRAPHY

Jeong-in was born in Seoul on an average day in a humble household. There wasn’t anything that stood out about him; being the middle child didn’t do much to help either. The only thing he eventually got known for was his nose; he was excellent with scents. Though, Jeong-in hated it cause he was so damn sensible to them. Eventually, they were able to put a name on what he was; a Nez. Jeong-in had no interest for perfume confectionery. His passion was to understand things after they had happened. At 11, his parents bought him a CSI kit for kids and that was it for him; nothing else would ever really interest him after that. So after doing his military service, Jeong-in had gone back to school to study in what truly fascinated him; crime scenes. He took pleasure during his profiling classes, but never pushed for more. As soon as he graduated he was hired, and ended up making a name for himself due to his sharp analytical eye. Figure out quickly how things had happened and why; immersing himself into the crime scenes in front of him. His amazing sense of smell ended up becoming his greatest asset; something that followed her to his criminal life.

Going down a bad path had nothing to do with mistakes made; it’d just been boredom. Boredom and his arrogant ass that thought he could do a job better than those who’d tried to clean murder scene. Cause if he could sniff out blood and any lingering fragrances, it’d be a piece of case to erase all proofs of a crime right?! For 10 years he perfected his skills; going around towns to find actual crime scenes that hadn’t been discovered yet. That was how he was discovered at 30 and willingly dragged into the world of gangsters. Over time, he was given the nickname 백설공주 (Baegseolgongju) Korean for Snow White. He hated the name at first, but came to enjoy it cause it had everything to do with his work and nothing with him. Moreover, the nickname became staple for his criminal activities, and left people to assume he was a woman. To this day, the knowledge of Snow White’s gender remains unclear for most.

He continued to live with a foot in both world till boredom got the best of him again, and he just left everything behind to move to NYC at the age of 39-40. His reputation preceded him so it was easy for him to fall back into hold habits. Though this time, Jeong-in turned his back on law enforcement for good. Until very recently, he’d been doing cleaning for the biggest checks; not really caring about who’d signed it. Though, he never showed his face to anyone and was only known by his nickname. Eventually, the Syndicate offered him enough money and the safety he’d once had back in Korea; so Jeong-in finally revealed his name and face to them as he joined their ranks.

Only the Syndicate members know that Jeong-in and “Snow White” are the same person. To outsiders, Jeong-in is just a guy that retired from the field to enjoy life in NYC.

— PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: 6’ 0" Body type: Athletic Hair: Black Eyes: Dark brown (look black) Facial hair: N/A Piercings/Tattoos: N/A Distinguishing marks: Any scars that could identify him have been surgically removed off records. Same for any repairs he ever done to his teeth once he got into the business. Defining traits: Even though he’s an untrained “Nez”, Jeong-in still recognises people by their scent. It has come in handy for his work as CSI and cleaner. Languages: Korean, English, Russian, Spanish, Italian Fashion style: Casual chic Extra: He doesn’t drink alcohol at all cause he has a really low tolerance to it. If forced to drink, Jeong-in will turns his face away and cover his mouth while drinking with elders or people of authority as a sign of respect per Korean traditions. Jeong-in like all korean men born in Korea is military trained and still workout like he used to back then.

— PERSONALITY

General: Charming and eloquent, but sometimes cutting to the chase a bit too directly, he comes off as just an average guy, but more often than not cold and distant. He can be flirty in some situation, but extremely private because of his double life. He’ll help others and be kind to keep up with appearances. About his work: He’s condescending and arrogant about his work as a cleaner because he believes he’s the best. He refuses to work with an audience and will walk away from a contract if he’s not left to his own device. With co-workers (Syndicate): Charming, eloquent and confident, but also very casual in the way he speaks. It’s not out of disrespect but how he is. But he also avoids unnecessary direct interactions with them unless he has to. Motivations: Intrinsic & Introjected Current Goal: Do his job Life Goal: Stay happy while doing what he enjoys most (being a cleaner) Best Quality: Methodical Worst Quality: Liar Fears: Being unable to be a cleaner Hobbies: Cleaning random crime scenes, restoring old/rusty tools, training, walking around the city Alignment: True Neutral Influential Memory: Losing Park Yeo, meeting Lee Source of Embarrassment: Messing up his work Source of Pride: His work Extra: He gets bored easily when he’s not cleaning.

— RELATIONSHIP

The Syndicate: Jeong-in avoids contacts unless he has to, but will occasionally try to be social. This is to help with keeping his identity as secret, but also because he’s not a social person to begin with. He doesn’t really care for their affair; cause his only interest is in his work. Jeong-in sees himself as a subcontractor more than a member of the Syndicate. But he makes the most of it. You could say he lacks ambition. Significant other(s): He’s not monogamous, nor does he expect that kind of commitment from his lover. Casual sex can be fun, but he’ll prefer watching porn over it most of the time. He enjoys riling up his partners. He can look extremely detached with them, but he’s a fiery lover. He’s not into polyamory either, because he can only connect emotionally to one person at a time. He’s very much a power bottom. Family: N/A Friends: {see General in Personality section above} though, how he is with them is genuine. 토끼 (Tokki): His 9-month old Shiba Inu. She’s a rescue from an abusive breeder. Jeong-in was just curious about the idea of having an animal to look more “normal”. She was terrified of everyone, but approached him. She’s now all smile, loves her human but usually doesn’t like others (she ignores them) unless he tells her it’s alright. He displays the most emotions with her. He renamed her Tokki (bunny), because she jumps around when she’s excited.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

《 xxxxx 》…..

[monsterroonio]

thinking a lot about mafiafell roo x red... deranged rambling below :} (TW: Typical mafia stuff, violence, gangs, prostitution insinuation.)

Red and Edge are the heads of the serif gang, mobsters, thugs, gangsters, the whole nine yards. Roo is the femme fatale who can't help but manipulate her way into their social circle, maybe not in the serif gang at first, but hanging off the arm of some other powerful figure in the organized crime ring in Ebott city. 1950s mobsters, burlesque dancers, gamblers, singers, drinkers type of vibe. I don't think Roo would be a performer, not a dancer, singer, or entertainer. Their a scam artist, a solo act. She scams her way into powerful monsters and mens hearts, with their charm and pretty face. She takes their money, resources, and souls, then ruins their reputation with all the information she learns about them. They all eventually disappear, of course. Reds the violent half of head of the serif gang, short tempered, quick to extreme acts of violence, fight first talk later, the big scary dog of the gang. He indulges in every number of sins his status affords him, and is loyal to his core. With his addictive personality, he's always looking for the next fun new thing, and of course that leads him right into Roo.

They both know that there's something different about one another, but they can't seem to shake their fascination with each other.

Red knows every monster and man in Ebott city, and he can get all the information anyone could ever want on someone in less than 24 hours, but when he sends his men to investigate Roo... They find nothing. Nothing, at all. No address, no previous names, no royal certificate of birth, no medical or soul records, no gang affiliation, nothing. He knows there's something dangerous about them.

Roo has scammed every number of thug, politician, federal and royal official, petty criminal, mob boss, you can think of, but Red is the first real threat she's come across. When he looks at her, they know he can see her soul. She knows there's something dangerous about him.

And they both want more. I am so feral about them it's insane.

[sukipershipper]

TW: Blood and Implied Violence

Dean stop committing felonies you are a kid, behave yourself please-

*claps hands*

ok so-

Dean has a criminal history. See, when Giovanni took him in, he slowly introduced him to the...well gangster side of his family. Dean became very accustomed to the violent nature he saw and soon adopted it as his own. He has committed various amounts of crime and has been arrested for physical altercation and theft.

Nowadays he's mellowed out. However, get under his skin in JUST the right way, and it does come out. He tries his best to keep it under control and soon coffees and making drinks became a healthier way to channel and process tbe aggression. Definitely choose that over beating people senseless.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Nevada Ramirez:  Catching Snowflakes

Word Count:  1308

TW:  Pure fluff

Nevada Ramirez hated the snow.  He hated the cold.  He hated winter so much that he rearranged his life in the cold months to avoid being outside as much as possible.  His lieutenants took more of the slack.  He let certain delinquent accounts linger longer than they did in the warm months.  And he ordered meals in, where possible, rather than even be outside for a minute.

There weren’t many reasons that could dislodge him from his warm apartment or warmer office.  You were one of those reasons, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t complain about it.

Nevada found himself standing in line outside, miserable and cold, waiting for the theater to open and let the two of you inside.  He mentally listed out the things pissing him off:  the icy wind whipping between the buildings, standing in line for a stupid fucking ballet.  Wearing a suit, albeit a black one.

When he felt the first snowflake hit his face, he scowled and added “snow” to the list.  Then he glanced over at you, the reason he was getting snowed on.

He’d met you at his club:  you were there for a friend’s bachelorette party, and Nevada had honed in on you from his balcony.  You had taken more work than his average hook-up; he had to actually put in the effort to woo you, and by the time you agreed to sleep with him, he was in love.  

Well, not in love.  Nevada didn’t love anyone.  He was a hardened criminal, a gangster.  The King of the Heights.  So he didn’t love you.  But he was fond of you, certainly.  And if anyone pointed out the obvious – that he would never be caught south of 155th street (especially for a fucking ballet) for anyone else – Nevada would just tell them to fuck off.

But here he was, shivering in the cold, snowflakes dusting his black hair.  And here you were, wrapped in a wool coat and massive scarf.  And, unbelievably, you tilted your face to the sky and were trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.

You only shot him a smile and continued tracking the fat clumps of snow drifting down, and Nevada begrudgingly admitted that you looked adorable.  Not that he’d say that.

“That’s disgusting,” he said instead.  “You wouldn’t try to catch the rain.  That snow’s probably made up of the Hudson River and fucking homeless person piss.”

You pulled a face at him.  “These clouds came from the north west.”

“So?”

“So the snow formed in Ontario, probably.”

“What the fuck does that matter?”

“It’s Canadian snow,” you informed him with a grin.  “So these flakes are probably made of Saint Lawrence River water and milk that came from a bag.”  He only grumbled at this, so you continued.

“Besides, I’m not getting a lot of snow here.  Catching snowflakes with your tongue is harder than it looks.”

Another grumble.  “I can think of better ways for you to use your fucking tongue.”

At this, you stopped and looked at him, your eyebrows knit together in consternation.  “You’re grumpier than usual,” you pointed out.  “Any particular reason?”

Nevada threw his hands up, a gesture that included the sky and weather, and the shuffling line that inched towards the theater’s doors at a glacial pace.  Then he told you, in no uncertain terms, that he hated fucking touristy bullshit like the fucking “Nutcracker,” he hated the fucking ballet, and he hated being so far south in Manhattan with hordes of fucking blanquitos.

You frowned at him.  “’The Nutcracker’ isn’t a New York tourist trap, you know.  Every city I’ve ever lived in does it at Christmas time.”

“Yeah, you’re a real fucking world traveler,” he retorted.

“Lived in more places than you,” you snapped back.  “Mr. New York City here who only stays in the same two square miles.  He can’t be bothered to experience all the city has to offer because he might brush against a tourist.”

“All I need is in the fucking Heights.”

You sighed and looked away, and Nevada swore he could hear you grinding your teeth in frustration at him. When you finally turned to face him, your face was carefully neutral.  “Do you want to go home?” you asked.

He nodded.  “Yeah.”  He watched you unbutton your coat and reach into the inner pocket, and he continued.  “We can grab some takeout, head over to the club….”  He trailed off when you handed him his ticket in your gloved hand.

“Drive safely then,” was all you said.  Nevada took his ticket mutely, and he watched your face for any betraying emotion.  A snowflake drifted down and caught on your upper eyelashes, melting there into tiny sparkling droplets.  You only rebuttoned your coat and turned to look at the back of the couple in line in front of you, your face stony.

He only got two blocks away when he felt a sting of guilt.  It was a rare feeling; Nevada almost never felt shame.  But he did now.  He knew he disappointed you a lot, which was made worse by the fact that you hardly ever asked him for anything.  Whatever he wanted, you did without complaint.  You had this one thing though, a deep love of Christmas and the traditions that had preceded him, and he couldn’t even do that for you without being an asshole.

Not that he fucking cared, but you’d bought the tickets – good ones – and he was already here, so he turned around.  And the thought of you sitting alone beside an empty seat gave him a curious twist in his gut.

By the time he got to the theater, they had opened up another set of doors and the line was nearly gone.  Nevada handed his ticket over and then took a detour to drop off his coat at the coat check.  Then a final detour, to the snack bar, where he got you an outrageously priced plastic cup of chardonnay and a beer for himself.

When he made his way to his seat, he did see you sitting alone, and that pain twisted in his gut again.  But it went away when you looked up and saw that it was him.  The sudden smile that split your face made him smile in return, unable to help himself.

He handed you the cup of wine and settled in beside you.  You leaned over and brushed a sweet kiss on his cheek and murmured your thanks.  He waved off your thanks, always uncomfortable with feeling, and asked what the ballet was about.

You explained it in broad terms, and he still got lost in the plot.  He caught enough though to grumble, without thinking, that it sounded kinda stupid.

You only laughed and elbowed him.  “No more stupid than all those ‘Fast and Furious’ movies you make me watch.”

He did have to concede that point, but the house lights flickered and the ballet started soon thereafter.  And while it was, in Nevada’s opinion, pretty fucking stupid (dancing mice, of all things?), the music was pretty good.  And the far better show was in the seat beside him – Nevada spent most of the ballet just watching you.  Your eyes shone in wonderment, and you were obviously reliving some wonderful childhood memory.  And your arm was wound through his, your hand warm in his own.  And, he reminded himself, he got to take you home, which was the best gift of all.

It wasn’t a night at the club or even a rewatch of a “Fast and Furious” movie on his couch, but it wasn’t terrible.  Nevada figured he could maybe deign to venture south of the Heights once in a while, especially if you were by his side just like this.

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: When starting the vendetta with the Peaky Blinders, Luca Changretta didn't expect you, Arthur's wife, to be the one meeting him. Now that you're facing him, he's determined to make you understand who leads the dance. It's a man's world after all! || Featuring Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 6.7k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, drug use, slight allusions to sex, canonical misogyny, quick allusions to domestic abuse, witchcraft (canonical since PB flirts with it sometimes), fluff, Arthur is as fucked up as cute, depictions of slaughter and body horror. The last part of this chapter is a flash forward. What happened will be described in the next chapter.

Notes:

✞ The mentioned character of Aurora, Luca's wife, belonged to @zablife.

✞ The bold sentence Heaven says comes from Lana Del Rey.

✞ This is chapter 15 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Usually, each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The dim glow of luxuriant chandeliers cast their orange light over the bar, their warm hue sublimating the rich notes of aged oak from which the counter had been sculpted. Standing alone on a barstool with your crystal gaze fixed on the swirling depths of your glass of red wine, you relished how the liquid gracefully danced and caught the light in a hypnotizing display of crimson elegance. Smooth as silk, its robe was deprived of lees and hugged your throat at each sip. It had been a while since you hadn't drunk such fine alcohol, and this experiment was almost enough to make you forget the curious glances of some noisy clients. As rare as it was to see a woman drinking by herself at the bar without the company of a gentleman due to the prohibited nature of such actions, no one had dared confront you about the matter yet. The waiter had thought of doing so because it didn't feel right to him but one look at the deadly frost of your eyes had been efficient enough for him to swallow his words and mind his own business. Wise decision, you weren't in the mood to be polite. There had been something off in the way you had stared at him, like a wild cat waiting for its prey to come just a little bit closer to pounce on it. He quickly lowered his gaze and went on with wiping down his glass, definitely not taking the risk of causing a scene. Bringing the expensive glass to your plump lips, you froze mid-movement at the sudden feeling of someone's presence behind your back. So, he came. Your mouth slowly curled in a cold, sardonic smirk. Your special guest didn't bother to greet you. Instead, he simply put his fedora hat on the bar counter right where the corner of your eyes you could see it.

"Isn't it the lady who should play hard to get?" You stated before drowning your sarcasm with a gulp of wine, its complex and refined taste displaying all its flavors on your tongue. So far, it has been one of the few places in which the wine was exquisite. And French, of course.

Swiftly slipping between two barstools, the man sat next to you — all his movements, measured and confident, denoted an indescribable elegance.

"So?" A collected and alluring voice inquired, wasting no time in futile courtesy nor in answering your taunt. He would have been surprised if his men hadn't warned him that you were the kind of woman to never be at a loss for words. Just like the two other harpies of the Shelby clan though.

"So, you spare my husband." You finished your glass and put it back on the wooden counter with a movement that translated both your firmness and determination. If there was one thing he had learned throughout his gangster life it was to pay attention to details. Since the very beginning of his criminal activities, Luca always focused on the way someone moved, especially because body language often said much more about people than words themselves. Contrary to prose, the body never lied, and concerning yours the signals were rather clear: you wouldn't cave in. "Oh, and you also spare Finn but it stands to reason. He's just a kid after all." Your request, spoken with a measured yet Artic calmness, snatched an amused snort from the threatening man. How did you dare bargain with him about who would die and who would live while your place wasn't in men's business? Luca slightly shook his head, disconcerted by the fact that the random wife of an enemy could behave so insolently with him while he could easily end her life with the gun he was hiding under his four-digit price jacket.

"In return for what?" His sharp eyes fixed intently on your dainty frame as he spoke. His expression, usually veiled in stoic composure, betrayed a keen attentiveness that mirrored his interest. Making himself comfortable on the barstool, he withdrew a matchbox from his pocket, its metallic surface catching the muted light. With languid grace, he extracted a match, the small stick cradled between his fingers, and brought it to his lips.

"Tommy Shelby." Your voice resounded like a chilling death knell when you pronounced these syllables nonchalantly as if selling one of your in-laws was nothing but one of the many formalities to retrieve your peaceful life. Such apathy was a bit chilling he reckoned. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he held the match delicately between his teeth. After a while, you eventually condescended to look at the man, your iris meeting the splendid green of his. The same green eyes that squinted a little bit now that they had a clear sight of your doll face, whose cold beauty made him wonder what the hell such a delicate thing like you was doing here, involving herself in the middle of intricating gang wars.

"Well, interesting." He mused, a part of him genuinely excited at the thought of butchering Tommy, the other still intrigued by you and how you contrasted with everything else around. No, how you contrasted with everything he had ever seen in his life. Changretta's features, chiseled and unyielding, remained an inscrutable mask, but beneath the surface, a calculated mind sought to see right through you. His posture exuded a quiet confidence despite your unsettling aura and ghostly appearance, a testament to the years of navigating the treacherous underworld of crimes.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked, going on with his observation of every tiny detail of your face. To be honest, Luca didn't imagine you like this. All he had been told about you was that you were the French harlot Arthur Shelby had married, some kind of bratty young girl who came from nowhere. At first, he was convinced that you would be nothing but boring at worst, or entertaining in your way of begging for your husband's life at best but you were none of these. Now that he was sitting next to you at the bar, discussing as if he hadn't murdered one of the most important people in your life, he found himself enthralled by the pure snow-white color of your long hair. More than your unusual hair color, what had surprised him the most was how your coldness cut with the softness of your physical traits. You felt like a walking paradox to him, your appearance conveying a message at the antithesis of what you truly were.

"Because it's all in my interest to see him dead and cold." You replied with a little shrug. Admittedly, you didn't imagine him like this. Quite the contrary, your mind had created the picture of a rat-faced gangster marked with ugly scars and vicious black eyes by dint of hearing how Arthur talked about him. Yet, here you were, facing a rather attractive gentleman with such atypical traits and a charismatic aura that your eternal coldness was slightly shaken. Men of these kinds were always the most dangerous, you thought with full knowledge of the facts. Luca Changretta was something: as slim as Arthur yet standing taller, his face was adorned with a seductive charm and an aquiline nose which rendered his features even more unique.

"Principessa" He started, sneering. Luca pushed the match to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue one last time before his sly fingers grabbed it to put it in the nearest ashtray. Then, his hand reached for the whisky glass the waiter had just put in front of him, "Allow me to doubt that. You are a Shelby, and I've heard your clan is tightly knitted together. Don't think of me fool enough to believe that a Shelby would want to kill another one." Luca concluded his accusation with a little head tilt as he swallowed his whisky in one go. A small grunt of pleasure escaped from his mouth at the pleasant burn the alcohol left in his trail.

"The only reason I bear the name Shelby is for my husband, not for anyone else. If you aren't aware of it may I suggest that your informants only did half of the job otherwise you should have known that Thomas had been nothing but a bane to my existence from the first day we met."

"A bane? That's not a trivial world to use when talking about your brother-in-law." Changretta's fingers, adorned with sleek rings, tapped against the wooden counter as a clear manifestation of his suspicions.

"Well, he had tried to strangle me, then blamed me for his son's abduction, and also for his brother's death and now he is actively seeking to ruin my marriage. I think "bane" is an appropriate way to call him. Now," You said with a little wave of the hand, "if my offer doesn't stir your interest I'd rather leave." When you shifted your body to stand up, Luca's immense hand gently rested on yours to invite you to sit back. The striking temperature difference between his warm flesh and the iciness of your skin gave him sudden goosebumps. Once you did sit back, his unimpressed mask cracked and moved on to an amused and fascinated smile that danced on his thin lips. It was a heavily murderous speech for such a little thing. If it wasn't for the frost you were made of, you would have made him think of his own more fire-coded wife.

"Let me tell you something. My mother was a very patient woman you know?" He said out of the blue with a softer voice, "I've never heard her raise her voice during all my childhood except once. That was one of the many reasons she was a teacher every kid loved. When she did yell at me I was a kid and I just saw a magnificent creature in my nonna's garden. It was an albino ferret, the most beautiful animal I've ever encountered. Straight out of a fairy tale with fur as pure as freshly fallen snow and little beady eyes as red as precious rubies. Usually, wild animals are skippish but that little fella didn't move away when I approached it. It seemed so quiet and docile that I decided to pet it. And do you know what the ferret did?" Luca leaned over you at his question, his face closer to yours and his smirk stretching in an evil grin, "It bit me. That fucking vermin sunk its sharp teeth into my skin and gave me one nasty bite. I still have the scar carved deep in my flesh up to this day. A bite scar among the gunshots and stab wounds." He paused for a while, his green eyes momentarily dropping to your swollen lips and lingering on the white pearly fangs he could glimpse at when you "tsk" at him. The air suddenly crackled with a palpable tension that thickened with every second flying by. Each of his silences loudly echoed the rising intensity of the moment one of you would snap at the other. But it never happened, and the only thing Luca did was grin even more, his squinted eyes meeting yours again. "Should have known it though, this fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes. The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

His words, coated with honey but cutting like razor blades, made the corner of your plum lips subtlety curl in a dangerous but brief smirk too at the realization that all the rumors surrounding the Italian were true: he was devilishly clever. Maybe that was why you didn't manage to completely hate him despite his horrible actions. While your dainty body, your small size, and the far-too-seraphic complexions of your face often misled people about the brutality that was coursing through your cursed veins and the sickening void of your coal-black pupils, Luca didn't fall for any of them. Not even the glittery makeup and your big round eyes could make him ignore the creepy murmurs of the underlying Devil living in you. After a brief and uncomfortable silence that seemed to last one awful eternity, you finally parted your lips.

"Let me tell you something too," Your voice was a gentle melody, "Arthur and John should have killed your mother." Each word flowed like a soft breeze, carrying a subtle allure that only enhanced the cruelty of their meaning. Your lack of consideration for potentially hurting his feelings had taken him aback. " But they decided to spare her despite Little King Shelby's ruthless order. They genuinely wanted to do it out of sheer compassion" You pursed your lips and backed up from Luca, rolling your eyes. "Fuckin' idiots, they should have killed her when they had the chance." The mobster quickly moistened his lips, the faint surprised expression on his face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"His ruthlessness was right." He agreed, "They should have." Luca concluded, yet elaborating an arrangement with you didn’t seem to be his top priority suddenly. The mobster already knew he would grant you your wishes, the idea of having direct access to Tommy was too alluring to resist after all. What he wanted at his precise moment was… Different.   "You know, I don't fear being bitten anymore — the danger is a deliciously wicked part of the job I learned to accept and love. Considering this, Mrs, Shelby" He let his sentence hanged as he offered you the palm of his hand, long and bony fingers waiting for yours. "May I ask for a dance?" His eyes sparkled with an amusement that hinted at a hidden game, a dance of power between you and him. The seductive charm with which he invited you blurred the lines between rivalry and fascination.

"Do we have a deal?" You inquired with one brow raised, just to make sure he had taken notes of your terms.

"A deal for a dance." He slightly wiggled the fingers of his inviting hand. "Plus, you're already dancing with me in your own way."

A discreet and longer inhale escaped from your nostrils as you weighed the pros and cons but still you slipped your hand into his, which enveloped your skin with a tender strength. A little dance couldn't hurt anyone, you thought. Without further ado, Luca led the way to the dance floor as you both snaked in and out through the crowd until you reached a more spacious corner. It was the mafioso who initiated the dance. First, his grip strengthened around you: not to the extent of hurting you of course but definitely enough to make you understand that you were trapped. Then, his arm wrapped around your waist firmly like a snake. "Closer," He instructed and you obliged, taking a step toward him and placing your free upon his shoulder. After he set the rhythm, you started to move to the slow melody the orchestra was playing across the room. As the haunting music enveloped you, you moved in synchronized steps, your bodies entwined in a waltz that displayed outside tenderness while your eyes held a sharp glint of adversaries locked in an unspoken battle.

Come now, dance with me as the song plays.

With each twirl and turn, the odd and gripping tension you shared thickened, just like an intricate tango of conflicting emotions. As soft as the dance had started, it was gradually turning into a visceral yet elegant battlefield where intimidation and seduction engaged in a delicate but fierce fight.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

Your heart leaped in your tight ribcage at a sudden dip, your hair hanging down like a silver cascade, and your gaze set on the golden sculpted ceiling that quickly flashed in front of your eyes before disappearing, replaced by Luca's intense green eyes again.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

"Don't be shy Amore," He cooed with a charming wink before pulling you even closer to him until your body collided with his. You stopped breathing for a short moment, shutting your eyes when you realized that your face was almost nuzzled in the crook of his neck. In that fleeting moment, you relinquished a fraction of your resistance, swept away by the remote yet familiar feeling of letting someone guide you without any need to think— or maybe that was the sweet fragrance of his cologne which pleasantly tingled your nostrils that woke up memories anchored deep within your mind. From the way he moved to how he behaved, from the luxurious place to the languid melody of the piano, everything was bringing you years ago, back in the comforting arms of your first fiance.

And you hated how pleasant it felt. You viscerally hated it.

Both the song's tempo and Luca's steps fastened as he noticed the subtle change in your facial expression, slowly turning your graceful dance into a dizzying and confusing round. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, daring it to reveal its vulnerability. The room seemed to spin around you and yet, you clenched your jaw and forced yourself to maintain an unmoved facade. No. You wouldn't sink into melancholia. Gathering all your willpower, you chased away the panic that crept within you and felt a rush of anger toward Luca for daring to reopen an old wound you tried to heal every day of your life since you left France. And with anger came the end of your self-control.

To hell with Tommy's plan, you could put an end to this exhausting vendetta yourself by killing the infamous Luca Changretta right here, right now.

Guided by your murderous nature, you started to focus on his heartbeat as soon as you regained control of the dance, forcing him to slow down the pace. In a thorough study of his pulse, you could clearly hear the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat resounding in his chest, and even counted how many times it beat in one minute. And the more you listened to it, the more music faded away in the background.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Killing him would be a piece of cake considering the horrific magic that was coursing through your veins, the magic of blood and flesh. All you would have to do was accelerate his pulse until it became too much for his body to bear. In a minute, Luca would drop to the ground, limp and dead. No blood, no fight, just the sudden and inevitable consequences of a heart attack. Quite different from the gruesome and slow death you had wished to inflict upon Tommy the day he had crossed the line.

"You're a great dancer, Miss Shelby." The mobster stated, having no choice but to follow your slower pace. Now you were the one leading the dance, "Did your husband teach you? I must admit that I have all the trouble of the world imagining Arthur Shelby being good at waltzing." He had already trouble imagining how the most rabid of these Gypsy bastards could have pulled you, to be honest. His tastes regarding women might not encompass you but, God, he thought that your place wasn't beside a man like Arthur Shelby since you could easily be a trophy wife for a classy and far more powerful criminal. Or some blue blood, but these were the same except the latter legally robbed people.

"Arthur is far better at dancing than what he seems but it wasn't him who taught me." Your reply was sharper than intended.

Another dip, smoother this time.

"Another man?"

"Yes."

"So you've been married before." It wasn't a question, it was a statement for the mafioso had easily decypher your micro-expressions despite your best efforts to hide them.

"Engaged. We didn't make it to the actual wedding."

Kill him. Kill him now.

The fingers that were resting on his shoulder dug deeper into his jacket as you channeled the gift your mother had passed you the day of your birth. It could have gone unnoticed if you hadn't paid attention but Luca's eyebrows slightly frowned, not understanding why his heart had started racing like that all of sudden.

"That's a shame. And how does one lose a woman like you? If I had been him I would have rather locked you in the house than let you flee." Luca grinned, his charming voice steady but the way he clenched his jaw betrayed the building pain he was feeling in his chest. Men were all the same: too much ego to show that they were in distress.

"Well, that's how he lost a woman like me." No matter the exact nature of the impact your words had on him it did trigger something within his soul. On top of a literal ache in his heart, his wedding ring became suddenly heavier. In the dance's rhythmic embrace, your witchcraft went on with poisoning Luca's very core. Yet, as the enchantment unfolded, an unforeseen consequence took hold. The more you delved into your mystical powers, the more the mobster's pain echoed within your own body in an unexpected symbiosis. Except that it wasn't in the heart you suffered, but in the belly.

The baby.

You backed up from Luca with a movement so quick it looked like you had touched hot-red metal, hence putting an abrupt end to the dance. A discreet growl fell from the man's lips for when the physical contact broke his heart resumed to a normal pace and the pain mysteriously disappeared. As well as yours.

"Enough fun for tonight." You said with hast, and Luca hadn't the quick thinking to keep you from doing so — the odd and unpredictable behavior of his heart was too concerning for him to carry on with this odd meeting.

"Hm. Yeah, don't forget about our deal." He replied, smoothing the fold of his tailored suit before slowly and discreetly pressing the left side of his chest with the palm of his hand.

" And don't forget to send my regards to your wife Aurora, who seems to be exactly a woman like me." You spat one last taunt with the most polite smile you could make before turning your heels and leaving this damn room.

What the hell had just happened?

According to Tommy, everything went perfectly. Satisfied with the outcome of your mission — and genuinely surprised you hadn't fucked up everything by your rebellious attitude or just for the sheer satisfaction of getting under his skin —, the lead pack dog of the Peaky Blinders went on with the Vendetta. Actually, the one who fucked up the whole plan hadn't been you, but rather Tommy himself following the failure of his surprise attack against Luca. He might have killed a few Italians in the process, but his initial target was still alive and in very good health conditions. A flash of anger and frustration coursed through your body when he told the family about it: here you were back to the start, with Luca not willing to give you a second chance and being more enraged than he already was when he came to England. None of it would have happened if you had listened to your instincts and killed him yourself. Served you right for trusting Tommy's plan for once. And for being reluctant to use the monstrous magic nature gave you. But there had also been... Something else. That weird and unplanned pain in your belly when you had used your magic. With all of this, the cherry on the top was probably Tommy's decision to carry on with today's boxing fight despite it being an obviously awful idea but of course, no one listened to you. Why would they? Tommy always knew better. Tommy always won. Tommy this. Tommy that.

You sighed loudly as you walked through the empty corridor, the cacophony of the crowd turning into a hushed noise when you reached the huge squared mirror that was hanging from the wall. There were so many people gathered in the building that accessing the bathroom would have taken both your precious time and your thin tolerance to social events. That was why you decided to look for a mirror or a window further away to add a few late touches to your makeup as well as to rearrange your hair. You had just finished putting another layer of mascara on your Bambi lashes and grabbed your lip gloss when a gravelly and familiar voice resounded in the hallway.

“I went looking for you.” The voice made you instantly relax, its baritone lilt holding the unique power of blowing your troubles away, both the past and the present ones. With one small yet graceful spin, you turned around to meet Arthur’s slim silhouette that was standing in the doorway. His sharp face, usually displaying a strict look, soon turned soft at the sight of you about to apply gloss on your tantalizing lips, “I thought you’d be in here.”

"And you thought right." You replied with an enamored smile. Arthur was quite delighted by the boxing fight, so there was no need to impede his joy with your concerns. Moreover, he was surely the only thing that kept you anchored during this confusing and stressful period.

The gangster approached you with slow steps and his steel blue eyes shone brighter the more he closed the distance between you and him. “I knew it, always seeking quiet places before a party to doll you up and take a deep breath...” He concluded, visibly proud to display his infinite knowledge about his beloved wife, which made you melt. Then, he stopped right in front of you, "Got a lil' something for me angel." Arthur didn't leave you the time to wonder what it was all about for one of his large hands slipped from behind his back and pulled a white Azalea from it, “Look what I’ve found. Almost as beautiful as you, eh?”  The way his face enlightened with the happiest and most genuine smile ever was something you never got bored of. Quite the contrary, it breathed life back into you each time. The ice of your eyes melted at such an endearing gift, turning your frozen traits into a child-like expression with your plump lips forming a silent ‘o’.

“For me? Really? Arthur, you shouldn't have!” You said with an excited but still quieter voice than his booming one. You couldn't believe he found the time to look for you in the middle of tonight's chaos.

"I wanted you to keep a little something with you in case you start panicking eh." He purred, low and gruff voice making his chest rumble. "Are you sure ya don't want me to stay with you?" You preyed the flower from his rough fingers delicately, actively trying not to break its fragile petals, and slipped it in your long silvery mane under your Arthur's tender gaze — he couldn’t help but smirk, enthralled by your beauty just like the first time he had met you, three years ago.

"We already talked about it. Go have fun alright? I'll stay with the women. Moreover, I know Tommy will ask you to stay near him and I'd rather avoid your boring brother, who can't crack a fucking smile for the life of his." You lift yourself on your tip toes to press a kiss on Arthur's jaw. His eyes half-closed at the silky sensation of your lips against his face.

"A very clever move that is. D'ya like the flower? The florist helped me, bet she took pity on me 'cos I looked very lost but she just made me even more confused with all the info she was dumping ay."

A sincere chuckle escaped from your throat at the thought of the lanky and rude gangster standing in the middle of a flower shop with a confused look on his face. Yup, it definitely sounded like something Arthur would do. “So how did you choose the Azalea?” You pondered with innocent curiosity.

“Well, I don't know jackshit about that flower language stuff. I only know roses and you hate ‘em.” He admitted with a smile, cupping your face with his two hands to lay a peck on your nose.  As trivial as this detail was he still remembered it and the mix of attention paired with the significance behind your loathing for roses made you swell with love for him. It came even more surprising considering that you only told him about your dislike for roses once during one of the nightly walks you took around the church days after your first encounter.  "So I just picked the one that made me think about ya the most, love." He admitted, his hands leaving your face to grip you by the hips bluntly as he peppered you with kisses. Another chuckle fell from your mouth at the tickle of his mustache against your skin.

"No, no, you'll ruin my makeup!" You playfully exclaimed. Trying to flee from his mouth, you tilted your head to the side and gave his stubbled cheek a gentle bite.

“Hey! I bring ye a flower and you thank me with a bite? Ye feral little thing!”

You gave him a second one without waiting for him to finish his sentence, "You're the one to blame. You’re so cute I just want to nibble you.” You replied, completely obliterating the remote noise as well as all the concerns you have been mulling over these past few days. Instead of anxiety, you were now possessed by joy and cuteness aggression, “I swear you look stupidly handsome.” You added with a pout, the target of your small bites shifting from his cheek to his sharp jaw. Arthur hummed, his lips sewn shut in a peaceful smile — he didn't even bother to flee from your teeth, "Alright, go find Tommy before I tear your suit apart."

"Wouldn't mind that, little one." His voice became raspier with anticipation. It seemed like your suggestion had already planted the seed of desire in his mind, for he already started pawing at your body. Nevertheless, your hands caught his wrists to keep him from doing so.

"No, no, no. My makeup is perfect and my dress too expensive for you to ruin it now." You reminded him with a soft laugh.

"Fuck me." The gangster complained but still obliged, keeping his hands to himself. However, the light mood was soon eroded by the question he didn't dare to ask you earlier. Caught in the weight of his demand, his smile dropped a little, "Eeer... Before I leave" He paused, "I wanted to ask you somethin'."

"Hm?"

Arthur let out a long sigh and looked for something inside the pocket of his trousers all the while rambling, "That's a rare occasion tonight. I mean, a good boxing fight with the new Gold lad I coach and an upcoming party that might last all night long y'know. A really great program that is. Exhausting too." His fingers nervously fidgeted with something inside his pocket. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced by tense shoulders and furrowed brows. Despite his efforts to appear composed, the strain was palpable, lingering in the air as he gathered all his courage. It was after a long hesitation that he finally took a tiny blue vial out and the simple view of it turned your joyful face into deadly ice again.

"Are you serious?" Your voice, a freezing breeze, cut through the air with a stern cadence, "Are you fucking serious, Arthur William Shelby Jr?" Your grip around the small lip gloss you were holding strengthened so much that the skin of your knuckles whitened.

"Hey, that's okay love." Arthur leaned in close. With gentle eyes that mirrored his sincerity, he spoke softly, trying to convey reassurance in each word as your anger simmered. "I didn't take any of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nah. Told ya I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice." The gangster lowered his head just like a terrorizing but gentle mutt would do to show his submission, "I wanted to ask if ya allowed me to take some tonight? Ya told me I could if it remained occasional. Wasn't going to take it in your back, I swear." Wrapping yourself in threatening silence, you stood like a tempest in the quiet aftermath, your posture rigid with the echoes of anger. The storm in your eyes gradually subsided, replaced by a contemplative gaze that softened the hard expression of your seraphic face. As the storm clouds of your fury dispersed, a calm determination settled upon you instead. Arthur bit his lips, mustache twitching as he did so, for time seemed suspended as you collected your thoughts and tried to regain control over your fury. You breathed deep and slow while Arthur held his, awaiting your reply and wondering if your reaction would be born from the storm or from the calm eye at its center.

"Give." You said, your melodious and quiet voice breaking the silence, then you snatched the bottle from his hand. Quickly looking to your left and then to your right to make sure no one could interrupt you, you first opened the lipgloss and proceeded to pour the white powder inside your makeup vial. Once this was done, you handed back the empty blue bottle to Arthur and mixed the cocaine with your lipgloss with the help of the small brush, "I have to admit that you're making a great deal of effort. Thank you for asking, I really... Appreciate it." The gangster stood silent and dumbstruck, wondering what the hell you could be doing. "And I did say you could take some snow occasionally." You brought the brush to your lips and carefully applied a great amount of the glistening liquid on your flesh. "So yes, you can take snow tonight... But you'll have to lick it from my lips so that when you kiss me you think I'm God." You smooched your lips together and then smiled, a wicked and tantalizing smirk that sent a sudden wave of fever through his whole being. Arthur swallowed, his gaze fixed upon the enticing curve of your lips. In the stillness of the moment, desire stirred within him, a smoldering ember ignited by the mere sight of you mixed with the sinful words you just spoke. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the subtle movements of your mouth, each gesture a silent invitation that beckoned him closer.

"I already do." He breathed with a low growl, his fervid passion turning his lean body into a shaky mess. With each passing second, the intensity of his longing grew, consuming him in a fiery embrace. His heart pounded in his chest, every fiber of his being yearned to bridge the distance between you, to taste the sweet and spice that lingered on your lips. With no more persuading needed, Arthur grabbed your face rough and let his mouth collide with yours, the kiss as brutal as a car crash. His scorching and rapid breath fanned over your skin as he licked your lips from the right corner to the left, the caress of his warm tongue making you moan against his wet flesh. Caught in the fire of desire — and definitely aroused by his carelessness— your trembling hands found rest upon his back, your nails digging into the expensive fabric of his jacket. An immediate wave of euphoria unfurled in his brain when the cocaine saturated his synapses. As needful moans raised in the corridor, Arthur couldn't tell if that was the drug or you that kickstarted his heart and dilated his pupils, but in any case, he was experiencing the most exquisite high he had ever had.

"Fuck." Arthur grunted with pleasure and gave several other licks until none of your gloss remained, then his tongue forced its way between your lips, not minding whether you had time to catch your breath or not because you were the real drug in the end. His deepest and most maddening addiction. "A fookin" Goddess you are hm."

"Arthur, Tommy's looking for—" Johnny Dog didn't finish his sentence, eyes wide open. " I just interrupted something right?" He finally blurted out, the initial shock of walking into such a steamy scene turning into the most annoying smile ever.

"Yeah, yeah Tommy. Alright." He repeated as he tried to break from the haziness. Arthur grunted, his lips still a few inches away from yours and your erratic breath melting together. Giving him one last peck —far more delicate than what you were doing one minute ago— you mouthed a silent "go" and forced yourself to resist the attraction of the invisible magnet that was inevitably pulling you towards the lanky criminal. "Alright!" Arthur roared when he turned back to you, clasping his hands together and walking to Johnny Dog with a carnivorous grin and dilated pupils. The Lee man slapped the eldest Shelby brother's back and, right before he go, shot you a little wink.

Their voices could still be heard when they walked away.

"Gonna wait a bit longer before getting your dick wet, boy."

"Shut the fuck up you fookin' cunt ay and let's watch the fight. I'm feeling bloodthirsty eh."

Three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and disgusting scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

"Arthur!"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses drowned in a deafening symphony of tinnitus, a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him, "Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream. A haunting and otherworldly scream which pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The tall Italian man twitching on the ground, choking in his own blood, should have been proud of his successful attack on the eldest Shelby brother. And yet, all he could do was stare at you horrified, his eyes reflecting the terror of his soul.

"D— Diàvulu..." He mouthed, as death came like the most wonderful relief, bringing his sinner soul far away from you, for even in Hell he'd feel safer.

Anywhere, as long as you weren't there.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers

[buccini555]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟑

♡ What would it be like to have a secret relationship with one of the city's most dangerous gangsters? (NSFW Imagine)

♡ H e a d c a n o n s/I m a g i n e s .ᐟ .ᐟ

♡ 𝑭𝒕.Kakucho Hitto

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 . 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 . 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 ♡ . 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 . 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

tw: only submission mention, almost none, he's a sweetheart.

𝗞𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗼 𝗛𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗼: For a long time, he kept a small spark of passion alive in his heart for you as soon as he caught a glimpse of you in a place you frequented in common, you ended up talking and becoming good friends, until Kakucho he finally got the courage and ended up declaring himself after meeting you again some time later.

Initially, Kakucho intended to assume this relationship to anyone who wanted to know, however, after thinking about the risks he could expose you to, he just preferred to keep your relationship confidential, even with this clear fact, Kakucho never treated you differently , he remained completely passionate and romantic, being extremely gentlemanly and loyal.

You end up meeting literally anywhere, but Kakucho prioritizes taking you to high-end and more reserved places, whether hotels, restaurants or even his own home, he usually makes some surprises for you when you are at his house, such as welcoming you with roses or crystal necklaces, he does everything to please you and is completely submissive, even though he is a member of one of the city's criminal organizations, his heart melts for you.

Kakucho also has his bad days, but he would never hurt you in any way, when he's like this, the taller one just becomes a little colder and quieter, another fact is that Kakucho would never be aggressive towards you, nor would he even raise his tone of voice, he cannot deny being jealous, however, he keeps them under control and is extremely respectful of your preferences and privacy.

That same day, two weeks had already passed before your eyes since he last met Kakucho, he would return to see her that night after finishing all the work he had, to eagerly await it, so, you took a shower and dressed in your best clothes, the expectation increased as night fell and intensified even more when you heard a knock on the door, immediately, you wasted no time and went to welcome him, quickly getting up from the sofa in your living room and opening the door with your heart throbbing with anxiety and joy at seeing him again.

"I'm back, my princess-" Before he had the chance to finish speaking, you jumped into his lap, hugging him in silence while even though he was surprised, he held you so intensely when you held him in the hug. "My girl... I missed you so much." Entering through the door and placing you under the sofa, he said, approaching you and making your eyes meet before kissing you.

That definitely wasn't like any kiss, it was different, intense and passionate, the rhythm increased with each movement of your tongues that did the work, even if the air ran out in a few brief moments, you couldn't stop, you needed it. "Promise you'll never be away from me again, Kaku?" Holding the brunette's face, you say in a low tone. "I promise." Looking directly at you while caressing your face, he responds and then gives you a few kisses, laying you down on the sofa and getting on top of your body, his hands roam your body, at first, the caresses are just like innocent touches, then, if they became hotter as the weather heated up, Kakucho caressed your breasts while holding one of his hands on your thigh, making you shiver with each touch and squeeze, you knew you hadn't felt each other for a long time, he really needed you right there.

"K-kakucho..." Amidst sighs, you pronounce the name of the taller one, who immediately turns all his attention to listening to you. "What happened, doll face? Want me to stop?" Kakucho questioned immediately. "I want more." In a few words and with a smirk, you said, looking away with flushed cheeks, so Kakucho immediately complied with your order and without thinking twice he kissed you again, this time, with even more desire to give you pleasure, while kissed you, he raised the hem of your dress, soon, it didn't take long for you to be completely naked in front of him, he looked you up and down making you realize his excitement when he took your hand to his member over his pants that were with the zipper open, you subtly lowered the black boxer shorts he was wearing, leaving his member visible, the pre-cum down your hand, holding it carefully, you began to make light movements up and down with your hand, making him let out a few moans at the same time as he attentively gave you watched him masturbate.

"Fuck... I-I need you, baby, right now." Looking at you with a needy look, he spoke, trying to contain his excitement, Kakucho made you come on top of his lap, being careful as he slowly placed his member in you until you felt it completely inside you. "I want to be yours again." You said, feeling his member pulsate along with your intimacy. "You're mine, you're only mine." Holding your waist, he forced your hips into his while helping you move up and down.

The rhythm increased more and more, keeping you both close to the peak, your bodies werem sweaty and reaching the limit. "I-I, I've missed fucking you, you're so...tight, damn." Putting even more pressure on your waist and hips, he looked at you as if begging for more, worried about you, he made you lie down for fear of tiring you out. "D-don't stop, K-kaku, please." Controlling his breath, you made his request while he penetrated you again. "Yes, baby. I won't stop until you cum on my cock." Going even faster than before, he uttered amidst already tired breathing. "Argh! P-please fuck me, fuck me, p-please!" Hearing you beg for him only made him more excited, he couldn't contain himself anymore so he just went even faster. "I-I'm almost... Y-yeah, that fucking tight pussy drives me crazy..." He said. "P-please, baby, fuck me, I-I need more..." To tease him even more, you continued to ask for more, so it didn't take long for you to reach the peak together. “Do you want, do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, hmm, baby girl?” He questioned. "P-please just... K-keep fucking me." As soon as he heard your answer, he could no longer control himself and did so, Afterwards, he removed his dick from inside her pussy, which was dripping with his cum.

After quenching your longing, Kakucho lovingly helped you shower and get dressed again, this time with comfortable nightwear, leaving you to rest next to him in your bed.

[galoresficrecs]

[EXO] Jongdae

LAST UPDATED ON: Dec 2nd, 2022

newly added ✦ || personal faves ✪ || ongoing ✑

ratings:

not rated || general || teen and up || mature || explicit🔞

❧ NOT HERE SHIPS ☙

jongdae x baekhyun x kyungsoo

jongdae x baekhyun x minseok

jongdae x chanyeol x minseok

❧ jongdae x minseok ☙

✪ A Tiger's Honor, a Magpie's Duty by XiuChen4Ever [50,5k words] pseudo-historical!au, royalty!au, arraanged marriage || explicit🔞

✪ As the Moon Loves the Sun by unnieunnie [72,6k words | 41 ch] gangsters!au, café!au || mature

✪ Chasing the Sun by XiuChen4Ever [14,5k words] post-apocalypse!au, sci-fi, korean mythology || explicit🔞

✪ Crocus Pocus by XiuChen4Ever [26,9k words] fantasy, magic!au || teen and up

✪ Fill the Long Night with Words by unnieunnie [4,2k words] poet!au || mature

✪ Ghost of a Chance by XiuChen4Ever [30,6k words] hybrids!au, enemies to lovers, ghosts, murder mystery || mature

✪ Have Your Steak (And Eat It Too) by XiuChen4Ever [82,3k words | 11 ch] hybrids!au || explicit🔞

✪ Hedge Over Heels by XiuChen4Ever [2,9k words] hybrids!au, neighbours!au || explicit🔞

✪ Hoping Fur the Best by unnieunnie [13,9k words] shifters!au, park ranger!au || explicit🔞

✪ I'm Gonna Thrill You Tonight by XiuChen4Ever [5,4k words] magic!au, necromancy!au || explicit🔞

✪ Just Kiss? by zhyixingie [4,4k words] historical!au, age gap, tutor/student || mature

✪ Marine Moving Under Skies by XiuChen4Ever [16,6k words] sci-fi, military!au, modern retelling || mature

✪ Northern Lights by uxiumin [25,2k words | 6 ch] fantasy, royalty!au, mama powers || teen and up

✪ Of Witches, Mixtapes and Memory by unnieunnie [19,2k words] college!au, 1990s!au, slow burn, unreliable narrator || mature

✪ Song of the Stars by XiuChen4Ever [112,3k words | 9 ch] magic!au, fantasy, fictional religion & theology, angst with a happy ending || explicit🔞

✪ Steal Away by XiuChen4Ever [24k words] TW: suicidal thoughts/permanent injury ;; hybrids!au, enemies to lovers || explicit🔞

✪ Tacit Understanding by XiuChen4Ever [48,8k words] a/b/o!au, college!au || explicit🔞

✪ Virgin SacrifICE by XiuChen4Ever [40,4k words] fantasy, dragons || explicit🔞

✪ We Must Wake Up Again by unnieunnie & XiuChen4Ever [2,2k words | 2 ch] afterlife!au || general

✪ You don't have to melt my heart to win it by unnieunnie [18k words] fantasy, magic-users, dragons || explicit🔞

❧ jongdae x reader ☙

[part of Welcome to the Exodus Mall] Reboot by yehet-me-up [26,9k words] f!reader, 1990s!au, mall!au, set in seattle, co-workers to lovers || teen and up

[part of The Cartel] The Money by kpopfanfictrash [8,1k words] 1970s!au, set in florida, crimes & criminals!au || explicit🔞

❧ otn/multi ☙

✪ Just watch, it's like magic by Lolistar92 [33,3k words] jongdae x junmyeon x minseok || urban fantasy, mama powers, prince!junmyeon || explicit🔞

[charlesinator]

(tw: kinda focused on wesker committing self harm, and since it's about the ventriloquist, it's also kinda about abuse)

I've recently started thinking of a sort of headcanon for everyone's favorite insane puppeteer. I mean, the idea does kind of go against wesker's entire gimmick of being so boring and unimpressive that the only thing interesting about him is the fact that he likes ventriloquism. But, it does look into the power imbalance between Scarface and the ventriloquist, so I'd say it balances out. Not to mention it'd help give wesker a bit more of a unique design compared to most other versions of himself, which could always be interesting. Anyways, the idea is this: the origin of scarface's scar.

I like the idea of Scarface not always having had his iconic scar, instead being a regular wooden mister puppet (maybe named after a famous gangster or something, I haven't really thought of that yet, though). Before crime, he and wesker were just part of a regular ventriloquism act, nothing evil or weird yet. But after whatever tragedy that befell wesker occured that caused his mind to split, that's when the darkness starts, but still no scar.

After some time of wesker surfing from his mental break by himself, possibly even full blown break downs, his more dominant, aggressive side eventually takes shape in the personification of his ventriloquist puppet. Soon, the angry, aggressive side of his mind starts bossing him around like Scarface does to this day, soon forcing him to start committing crimes. Eventually, wesker snaps: maybe they had to, or almost had to, kill a man, and wesker wasn't comfortable with it, maybe they pulled off a crime that wesker thought was too big and serious for someone like him to commit, or maybe they got too close to getting caught for wesker's liking. Either way, wesker makes it clear to the puppet that he doesn't like it, that he wants to stop, that he doesn't want to be a criminal, that he ISNT a criminal, just a man who wants to perform ventriloquism, the the puppet won't hear any of it. Eventually, it turns into a full blow argument, and somehow, some way, wesker ends up grabbing a knife, and slashing at the puppet, before immediately dropping the knife and breaking down over what he had just done. Not only had he attacked a man, but he attacked his BOSS.

Wesker starts apologizing, begging for forgiveness, but the puppet is LIVID. Thankfully for wesker, in the puppets words "he's too useful to him to be be killed", unfortunately he still made to grave of a mistake to go unpunished. He yells at wesker to pick the knife back up, and point it at his face. He yells for him to bring it closer, and closer, and closer still, until eventually the knife is pressed up against his cheek. Still, the puppet demands that he gets closer, and after more begging, wesker finally submits, pushing the knife into his skin. The puppets tells him to slowly cut down his face, and after minutes of tearful begging, and slow, painful cutting, the puppet finally lets him stop, thinking hes learned his lesson.

"next time you get too big for your boots, you ought to think back on this pain before you try and act out of line again." Then, after the puppet yelled at him to clean his face up before he got blood on his suit, he decided to go on known as scar face (if he hadn't already). When asked about his scar, it was the only time he was ever seemingly proud about something related to wesker. "Its the one time he ever got out of line, and I made sure to pay him pack right by making him give himself one to match. After all, if I had been the one to cut him up, sure, it'd hurt like hell, but it'd just be some other guy holdin' the knife. But if I made him do it, he'd be the one holding that knife, and it'd be as clear as day that he's the one responsible for his pain. If you make a man deal his own punishment, he's likely to not misbehave again."

Wow, that was way longer than I thought it was gonna be (and way more darker than I realized now that I had to write it all down). Just some thing I thought about giving not only a somewhat interesting origin for scarface's scar, but also giving something of an explanation as to why wesker is so submissive to scarface's command. Anyways, I'll probably post a few more ventriloquist ideas I've had in my brain soon, though probably not as long and dark as this one.