#ktk reacts

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

I came here for the pairing and stayed for the plot. It’s so hot the plot that is. Please enjoy this as much as I did.

Try a Little Tenderness

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.7 K

Summary: Steve can’t win you with presents. He’s got to try a little tenderness.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Pining, flirting, organized crime, implied ice skating, teasing, former jerky boyfiend, inexperienced reader, nipple play, oral (both receiving) p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, crying during sex, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Good morning, Steve!”

You were stocking onions, but you looked up and smiled as the tall blond entered the store, setting off the bell. He was well built and handsome and wearing a fine wool coat with a red scarf. It was a cool December, but New York had not yet had its first big snowfall.

“Mornin’, Ambrosia,” came his gruff response. 

You kind of liked his early morning voice. And the nickname. The first time he came in, he’d picked up an apple, already biting into it but also already paying. He handed you a twenty and said, “Mmmmm, Name?”, pointing to you with the apple. Flustered, you replied with the name of the apple instead of your name and the rest was history. 

This morning, Steve smiled at you and his blue eyes were sparkling. They always sparkled when he looked at you. He seemed very sweet.

“The usual.”

You laughed and went behind the counter to wash your hands.

“Of course, already had the fixin’s set up for you.”

Keep reading

[magus-of-the-color-pizza]

Dystopia of Tarkir

Dragons of Tarkir: the culmination of the last block in the old (old) model, before Wizards of the Coast made the switch to the two-set (or two-block, if you will) model (before they switched again. But, I’m getting off-track); it was an oddball of a thing, for many reasons. One of them is that the idea that birthed the block was "let's make a block where the first and last set are drafted with the middle one but not with each other" (creative initially thought of a massive ship/vehicle carrying the story from one place to another across a plane, but opted for time-travel shenanigans instead). But Dragons specifically was weird because of how the fans reacted. WotC had the block planned so that the first set would get people hyped for dragons, and then the second set would ease them into it and the third one would throw as much flying lizard goodness at the players as they could. Why? Because Dragons are the base's favorite creature type, and they have been for a long time. Seemed like a solid plan.

There were two issues, from what I can tell, or even one if you want to lump them in together, in their plan. Because instead of getting a crescendo of hype from fans, the enthusiasm of fans for the first set of the block can not only compete but, in many cases, even trounce that which the last set received. Now, notice that I am not talking about gameplay here. Yes, megamorph was a thing, and I suppose that if you look at the broad picture that might’ve contributed somewhat to this phenomenon, but I’m referring mostly to the vorthos and worldbuilding aficionados. 

Also note that this post isn’t meant to whine about the decisions that were made in regards to this block or to claim I would’ve done better. I’m writing it because it’s something that’s been sitting at the back of my brain for a while and I want to get it out there. Anyways. I said that I believed there were two or one major problems with this plan. Let’s spell them out:

Simply put, the first issue is that the Khans timeline was amazing. Too amazing, in fact. I say this with profound appreciation for all the work that Creative did; they managed to pull from 5 different, complex historical groups and put them all in one world without making it feel too cramped and at the same time giving each group a unique identity and feel. Kudos to them for that. But, because of this...

The Dragons timeline was... not as awesome. For me, at least. And, well, many others. Now, heck: casting dragons? I loved that. Realizing how Tarkir, this very diverse plane where you could be pretty much anything you wanted (so, so many ocs were made thanks to this plane), had become a place where, you know what? No matter how awesome you are, your life kinda sucks. Why? Because of them:

I think this was the main problem. I understand the idea of putting a group in a position of power over another, that’s nothing new. You think the Sultai were gentle masters that cared deeply about their servants? But when said group is:

Neither human nor humanoid, and therefore very difficult to relate to;

Inaccessible to humanoids, due to the nature of the group; and

Shows ample disregard for humanoids’ life, will, and worth, not only cementing their “otherness” but effectively worsening the condition of humanoids anywhere in the plane;

then yes, you’ve created a world where you will always have to deal with this feeling of powerlessness and constant dread, no matter what clan you’re in or what role you fill. You know what would be awesome? Dragons and humanoids working together. I look forward to revisiting Tarkir when the inevitable rebellion gains enough steam (Arel you’re doing amazing sweetie!).

There is also another element, which is the transformation from Wedge clans to Ally clans. Wedges are something we rarely see and in Khans wotc had done a great job at creating a unique feel and identity to these combinations (given that they were not centered in the enemy color, as one would expect). Going from that to Allied colors just didn’t feel as special, as if something was missing. To be fair, though, Wizards didn’t just cut off part of each clan’s identity, they did some changes and introduced some new elements (aside from the dragons, of course), so good on them for that, even though I think it can be argued that, due to lack of space (and now I’m talking about the actual card set), each clan did end up feeling as if it had less depth than before. Let’s take the Ojutai, for example. They lost their wanderers and tricksters in their transition from Jeskai, but they gained Spellfists, who “have trained for years to manipulate the subtle flow of magical energy. Although what they do can't properly be called spellcasting, it lends their movement and attacks a grace, speed, and fluidity that can only be described as supernatural” (makes sense since they repress Red’s erratic and impulsive nature in favor of meditated attacks) and Graceblades. Now, you all more or less knew about Spellfists. The question is, do you remember hearing the term Graceblade?

If you answered yes, then you’ve likely seen the one (1) graceblade card in the set (I always remembered this card being beautiful, and now that I’ve noticed who the artist is I’m not surprised). Ok, sure. But do you know what Graceblades do?

Graceblades. Like spellfists, the graceblades channel energy. They do so not to empower their attacks, but to manifest mental weaponry. Becoming a graceblade requires understanding of spellfist technique and the ability to reach meditative clarity in the heat of battle.

THEY MANIFEST MENTAL WEAPONRY. That sword you see there, the blade is made out of pure psychic energy! How cool is that?! It may be the closest thing we ever get to a lightsaber in mtg.

So why only one card? An uncommon at that, too, and not a very good one either, at least within the confines of what standard was at the time. My guess would be space, because most of dtk was geared towards dragons (admittedly, there were “only” 26 dragons in the set of 254 cards, 31 if you count the monuments), their powers and the society that they created around them. So we effectively have a main course, if you will, of dragons & co (elements associated with them), and a side dish of, well, everything else.

Now, that does sound very cool, but when your main dish is about unrelatable, monstrous tyrants who would erase you from the face of the earth without a second thought, you tend to focus more on the elements that don’t involve those tyrants. But, there are less of those elements compared to the feast you had yesterday, so you end up feeling as though this one were less plentiful, even though the reality is that there are several dishes you find inedible.

-Mmmh, scrumptious!

So what conclusions should we draw from all this? Well, I would suggest understanding your world’s... mood better. KtK was not an idyllic plane by any account, but the humanoids as a group were free, they had agency. Dragons of Tarkir went from being “Tarkir but with dragons!” which is delightful to “Tarkir but the dragons subjugate the humans!” which is... not as pleasant. If you want to make a dystopia, by all means, do so, but if it’s the conclusion to your story rather than the beginning (or if a looong time will go by before something changes), don’t try to “fool” the audience that things are better. And by “fool” I don’t mean denying the evidence, Maro himself has come out and said that on average the condition of tarkirian humanoids has worsened, I mean don’t present it as something cool and exciting when, well, it isn’t. Casting dragons is fun, but would you rather live in Khans or live in Dragons?

[lostlove-hurtheart]

I messed up I messed it up and he’s going to hate me forever it’s the second time and he’s going Net o hate me because I panic every time not even for the mistake he’ll leave me because I can’t handle it because I panic and that makes the panic worse and he’s going to hate me forever and th in kk about me like he thinks of HER and I can’t stand that and I ruined everything he’s going by ktk Do that SIGH THAG FUCKINGG SIGH LIKE WITH HERA AND ILL LOSE HIM BEVAUSE I FUCK UP EVERYTHINF AND HE CAN TELL O PANIC AND HES FOING TO GET TIRED OF ME AND LEAVE AND BE RELIEVED AND ILL DESERVE JF why do I ruin everything why do I mess up I just missed him so much I wanted to hug him and he was so upset with me and BORED and unhappy imade him unhappy I deserve to be alone forever I want to fucking die but I can’t but I deserve to die bevause this I how I react and feel and he’s going to run away from it all and hate hate hate me oh my god

[phgq]

Joma denial of hit list shows Red ties: Parlade

#PHnews: Joma denial of hit list shows Red ties: Parlade

MANILA -- Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) founding chairperson Jose Maria "Joma" Sison's vehement denial of the newly-discovered hit list against ranking government officials demonstrates his strong ties to the insurgency movement, a ranking official of the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict (NTF ELCAC) said Friday.

"Why did he react immediately? It should tell us he knows about it because the Central Committee orders were just very recently given, as in a few hours after it was issued," said Major General Antonio Parlade, Jr., who is also Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) Deputy Chief-of-Staff for Civil-Military Operations.

Included in the hit list are Parlade, National Security Adviser Hermogenes Esperon, Jr., and National Commission on the Indigenous Peoples chair Allen Capuyan.

The plot, codenamed "Oplan Hades", is part of the communist rebels' effort against so-called counter-revolutionaries.

"We exposed this  'Oplan Hades' as early as last year, after the bungled Red October destabilization plot involving Movement Against Tyranny remember? But nobody believed us," he said.

He urged Filipinos not to believe Sison's statement as the CPP founder has always denied every misdeed and atrocities committed by the communist rebels, including the bombing of Plaza Miranda, Quiapo, Manila on August 21, 1971.

"Of course 'Joma' has always denied everything like ordering the bombing of Plaza Miranda in order to force Marcos to declare Martial Law in (1971). Senator Jovito Salonga would later confirm that it was not Marcos who bombed the Liberal Party rally but 'Joma' Sison," he added.

Aside from ranking government officials, also included in the hit list is former Central Committee member and Military Commission head Ruben Guevarra whom the NTF ELCAC official said is privy to the plot.

"One of those in this new hit list in 'Hades 2', by the way, is Ruben Guevarra, former Central Committee member and head of the Military Commission, and is, therefore, privy to the Plaza Miranda plot. Now he is again being targetted for his active participation in exposing the PM (Plaza Miranda) bombing in the movie clip 'Madugong Singkwenta'. It was released last year to remind people of the bloody trail that the CPP's violence has brought us over 50 years. This December 26, it will turn 51," he added.

Despite Sison's non-admission of his participation regarding the massive purges that killed thousands of CPP-NPA fighters and supporters, a court ruled that he has direct participation in this bloody event, hence an arrest warrant was issued against him in connection to the Inopacan Massacre.

"Did 'Joma' also admit to the thousands of CPP and NPA cadres killed by their own people during the purging? No, he did not. But the court was later convinced of his direct participation, hence the warrant for his arrest for the Inopacan mass killings. In fairness to Satur Ocampo, he did admit to this mistake in a recorded interview he gave. At least he knows that even as he claims he is a 'progressive' there is blood in his hands," Parlade said.

He added that the hit list prompted communist rebels to beef up the presence of their Special Partisan Unit (Sparu) in urban areas to attack their enemies as stated in the communist rebels' "Limang Taong Programa ng Partido (2017-2021)".

"And what does the 'Limang Taong Programa ng Partido (2017-2021)' says about the Sparu? In the "Taktikal na Programa - KTKS 01/19/2019 paragraph 4.8, it clearly says that it should strengthen and activate partisan operation in the city. 'Palawakin at pasiglahin ang mga operasyong partisano upang bigwasan, guluhin at parusahan ang kaaway sa mga syudad.' It (is) very clear that 'Joma' wants the CPP-NPA hitmen called Sparu, to attack government/officials to kill, harass, or punish them," he said.

Such strong statements belied Sison's claims that the hit list is just psywar, he said.

"Maybe we should also remind this senile old man that just last November, Sison intimated that the Sparu of the CPP-NPA may return  'if there is no more space for patriotic and progressive forces in urban areas'. Maybe your spokesman (could) remind (Joma). The Sparu will be here because their forces have nowhere else to go after most of the provinces, towns, and barangays have declared the CPP NPA as 'persona non grata'," he said.

With all these things going against the CPP-NPA, Parlade chided Sison for choosing this time to talk peace again in order to save face.

The CPP-NPA is listed as a terrorist organization by the United States, European Union, the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and the Philippines. (PNA)

***

References:

* Philippine News Agency. "Joma denial of hit list shows Red ties: Parlade." Philippine News Agency. https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1088154 (accessed December 07, 2019 at 06:07AM UTC+14).

* Philippine News Agency. "Joma denial of hit list shows Red ties: Parlade." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1088154 (archived).

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

whatever you want

tommy x reader

SUMMARY you storm out the house after a fight with tommy

REQUEST “ I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write an angsty tommy imagine where him and the reader get into a fight and the reader goes away from him and he can’t bear it so he finds her and it ends all fluffy ❤️🥰”

WARNINGS angst, fluff

WORD COUNT 1,278

A/N this takes place at arrow house but not in a specific season. also this was kinda rushed so i hope i still did the request justice💛

Keep reading

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Not me over here crying like a big wimpy baby over this beautiful one-shot.

Baby Mine (Chris Evans x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Chris has a little heart to heart with your six year old from a previous marriage.

Pairing(s): Chris Evans x PregnantWife!Reader

Warning(s): Angsty bits, but lots of fluff to make up for it.

Length: 1.3k

“And just one last finishing touch,” Chris announces, grinning boyishly to himself as he sets a soft, stuffed brown fox inside of the natural washed oak crib that he’s just finished putting together. He wipes the light sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and turns around to see you sitting comfortably in the matching rocking chair that he’d also put together earlier that same afternoon. All of the furniture that you two have chosen for the baby pairs perfectly with the light, pale gray color of the walls which Chris had painted himself the week prior. “That’s it, honey. Noah’s nursery is finally all done.”

You take a quick glance around the room. “Well, for you it might be done.” You chuckle, and after a bit of a struggle, you manage to push yourself out of the chair and up to your feet. “But not for me. I still have a ton of stuff to do in the next few weeks before the baby comes, Chris. I have to wash and put away all of his clothes, put away the diapers, organize all of his books and his toys—”

“At least you get to do all of the fun stuff,” Chris interjects, playfully rolling his blue eyes at you. “I had to paint the entire room and put together all of the furniture. By myself, I might add.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be of assistance with any of that.” You glimpse down at your ever growing baby bump, which is evident even underneath your oversized knit sweater. “It’s not like I’m almost eight months pregnant or anything.”

He laughs and walks over to you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m only kidding, honey. I’m more than happy to do all of this stuff, especially since you’re the one who’s doing the real hard work here. You’re growing a little human, after all.” He smiles at you and smooths your hair back away from your face. “Let’s see what Bella thinks?”

You return his smile and nod, calling over your shoulder, “Bella! Can you come in here for a minute, sweetheart?”

A minute later, your six and a half year old daughter pads into the room with her little shadow, Dodger, at her heels. “Yes, mommy?”

Your daughter from a previous relationship, Isabella, looks every bit like you. She shares the same hair color and eye color, and even has the same nose shape and smile. Chris often likes to refer to her as the miniature, cloned version of yourself.

“Noah’s room is all done,” You tell her, gesturing around the nursery. “We wanted to show you. What do you think, Bells? Do you like it?”

“Yes, I like it,” Bella murmurs in response, a crestfallen look suddenly appearing on her little face.

Chris frowns, instantly catching the sudden change in her demeanor. “What’s the matter, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” she replies, looking anywhere but at the two of you. “Can I go now?”

“Bella, what’s going on?” Normally, you liked to be at eye level with your daughter when speaking with her, but being as heavily pregnant as you currently are, you know that if you get on the floor, there will be no getting back up. “You’ve been acting really strange lately, sweetheart. Is something going on at school? Are your friends being mean to you or something? If someone’s picking on you, you need to tell me.”

Bella shuffles anxiously from foot to foot. “No, mommy. That’s not it.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

She hesitates. “I don’t want you to have a baby,” she finally confesses to you. “I don’t want a little brother.”

“Isabella,” You say her name in a firm, but gentle tone. “Stop. You don’t mean that.”

“But I do mean it, mommy! I don’t want a new baby around! I don’t want to have a little brother!” Bella whirls around and darts out of the nursery before you can even respond.

A second later, you and Chris hear the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut. Dodger, who had followed behind her, lets out a loud whimper and instantly you both know he’s been locked out.  

“What on earth has gotten into her?” You muttered, shaking your head. You glance at Chris. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ll go and talk to her.”

“No, let me,” Chris insists. He puts a hand on your stomach. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Wait here.” He softly kisses your forehead and then excuses himself, walking out into the hallway and towards Isabella’s bedroom. He gives Dodger, who’s sitting there looking as pitiful as ever outside her door a gentle pat on the head. “Bella?” He calls before giving a gentle knock. “Hey, Bells? It’s me. Can I come in and talk to you?”

He hears a muffled little, “Yes,” come from the other side.

Chris opens the door to her bedroom and walks inside to find her sitting on her bed with her favorite, wooden music box that he’d made for her for her last birthday in her lap. The box is playing ‘Baby Mine’ from her favorite movie, Dumbo. He can’t help but smile to himself a little as he reminisces back on the days when she was four years old and she would ask him to watch it with her at least two or three times in a single day.

He takes a seat beside her on her bed. “Hey kiddo.”

“Hi.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No,” Bella answers in a small voice. “Not really.”

Chris nudges her lightly with his elbow. “Come on, you know you can tell me anything, Bells. We’re best buddies,” he reminds her. “So talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

She sniffs. “When Noah’s here, you and mommy aren’t going to love me anymore.”

“What?” Chris stares at her in disbelief. “That’s not true.”

“Yes it is.” Her voice shakes as tears start spilling down her flushed cheeks. “Especially you.”

Chris scoots closer to her. “What in the world are you talking about? Sweetheart, why would you even think that?”

Bella looks up at him with her innocent, tearful eyes. “Because,” she says. “Noah is your baby. But I’m not.”

Chris had come into your life when Isabella was about three years old and he married you when she was just a few months shy of her fifth birthday. Over the years, he’s grown incredibly close with her, loving her as if she were his very own child. A few months ago, you’d let Chris in on a little secret you had been keeping from him and told him that Bella had started referring to him as her father when he wasn’t around. You’d also let him know that she still didn’t have the courage to call him ‘daddy’ to his face, but that she was working on it. Chris has expressed to you over and over again that he would absolutely love for Isabella to call him that someday, but he doesn’t want to push her on it. He wants it come naturally from her, when she is good and ready. Regardless of whether he has the title from her not, Chris sees Bella as his daughter, and nothing will change that, especially not the birth of his son.

“My real daddy didn’t want me,” Bella continues to say, sniffing again. “And when Noah comes, neither will you.”

Chris can feel his heart physically aching at her words.

He knew as well as you did that one day, Isabella may question her biological father’s absence and perhaps even blame herself for it. But at this age?

Chris reaches for her, picking her up and pulling her into his lap. He tucks a loose curl behind her ear. “Why would you think that, Bells? That’s not true, not at all.” He wipes away the tears from her face with his large hand. “You’re my baby. Don’t you know how much I love you?”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she looks down at her music box, still gripping it tightly in her teeny hands.

“Isabella, listen to me. You are my baby,” he repeats, giving her a gentle, one armed squeeze. “You’re my baby, no matter what. Just as much as Noah is. Nothing or no one will ever change that. Okay?”

“I’m your baby?”

“Of course you are. You’re mine, Bella.” Chris pauses, giving her another squeeze before he boldly adds, “And I’m so, so proud to be your daddy.”

She gives him a watery smile. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yes. With all my heart, I mean that.” He nuzzles her soft cheek with his nose causing her to giggle. “Don’t you know how excited I am to watch you grow up? To take you to your first day of school every year? To help coach your soccer team? To teach you how to drive one day? To beat up any boy that ever makes you sad?” He grins jokingly as she giggles again. “I’m here to stay, Bella. You’re stuck with me, kiddo. I’m not going anywhere,” He promises. “Do understand that? I’ll never leave you.”

“Pinky promise?” Bella holds up her little finger.

“Pinky promise,” he echoes, looping it with his own. “I love you, Bella.”

“I love you too.” She pauses before shyly adding, “daddy.”

Chris’ grin spreads from ear to ear as he stands up, carrying her out of the bedroom.

“Everything okay, you two?” You ask tentatively as you approach them in the hallway.

“Never better, right Bells?” Chris asks her, kissing her cheek.

“Right,” Bella agrees. She smiles at you. “Mommy, I’m sorry. I take back what I said. I do want a little brother.”

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

I don’t know how I got here but I’m so glad I did.

Eternal Summer

Summary: Paul fucks you in a tent on Arrakis.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x fem!reader

Word count: 615

Warnings: Smut

Note: i shared this idea with @darksideofthecocoamoon and couldn't get it out of my head, so i want to thank her for this coming to fruition. if you haven't seen me fangirl about her fics already, go read them! she has some of the most creative and well-written stuff out there.

Arrakis was hot and dry, the blazing sun sucking all the moisture from your body until your lips were chapped and your skin itched. The waves of sand stretched endlessly in every direction, nothing but desert for as far as the eye could see.

But here, inside this tent with Paul naked on top of you, it was a hot, sticky, damp reprieve from the barren wasteland that was Dune.

He rested his full weight on top of you, his chest slick with sweat where it pressed flush against yours. He caged you in with his forearms on either side of your head, his face taking up the whole of your vision. His dark hair tickled your cheek as it hung around you, forming a shroud between you and the rest of the world.

His heavy breaths and the squelch of flesh as he moved within you filled your ears. His thrusts were slow but deep, and you could feel every ridge and vein of him as he slid against your sensitive walls. Your gaze followed a bead of sweat as it dripped down his temple. In a world where water was more valuable than gold, it was meaningful that he would choose to use so much of it on you.

The head of his cock brushed against that special spot inside of you, and you gasped, inhaling more spice as you did so. Copper specks of it floated through the air, glittering in the sunlight that filtered through the tent’s walls. Your vision swam as your head was sent reeling, pinpricks dancing along your skin.

“Stay with me.” His voice was low and raspy, barely louder than a hushed whisper, but it reverberated in your head. His image snapped into focus, his green eyes boring into you. His gaze was intense, never once daring to blink or look away from you for even a second.

You clung to his forearms for stability and arched up into him. You squeezed your thighs around his hips, drawing him closer. The air in the tent was muggy and stifling, the humidity almost too much to bear. But none of that mattered as you let go and gave yourself over to him.

You fought to keep your eyes open as pleasure washed over you from head to toe, staring up into his. Your mouth was dry, and you couldn’t manage more than a whimpered mewl as your voice cracked.

You felt him shiver against you as your walls clamped down on him like a vice. His pace faltered, and his eyelids grew heavy, staring down at you through long, dark lashes. He rested his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. He let out a low groan, his breath ghosting your lips.

His body tensed as he came, toes curling, and suddenly you were as warm and wet on the inside as you were out. He closed the barely there gap between your lips in a long, lazy kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. When he pulled away, his lips were red and swollen, glistening with saliva.

He turned his face to the side and rested his head on your chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him inside you. You wound raven strands of hair around your fingers and stared up at the ceiling of the tent. You didn’t speak a word, relishing in the comfortable silence and focusing on the steady rhythm of his heart as it beat against your ribs.

Arrakis was hot enough already without Paul’s warm body smothering you, but you’d rather be a sweaty mess of limbs with him than be anywhere else in the universe.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

All the feels that were rolled up in this one you guys. I wasn’t prepared. Grab some tissues, maybe don't, you never know, I’m a big baby.

The Silver Lining | Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader

Summary: (Y/N) Shelby's always been the 'forgotten one' in her family, but there may just be a silver lining in all of her suffering.

Warnings: strained familial relationship (father/daughter), mentions of minor character death

Word Count: 1633

A/N: I’m a bit rusty with the daughter!reader stories, so I’m hoping that this is good and was wanted. It’s also a bit of a sad one, but ends happy (or so I think). Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

From when she was young, (Y/N) Shelby wished that she was part of a different family. Not even a different family name; she'd be fine with staying a Shelby...she just wished she would be going home to a different parent; a different father at night.

The only thing that (Y/N) did thank her father for was for taking her in. She'd heard terrible stories of orphanages and what happened within them. The fact that she had a place to call home, when she very easily could not have, made her grateful for that.

Her mother died after childbirth, and that side of the family wanted nothing to do with the baby after it was born, so Tommy Shelby decided to take his daughter into his home, accepting the help of his aunt in raising the child. (Y/N) was grateful for it because it was uncommon for the father to do something like that...most just sent the children away when the mother was out of the picture.

But as time went on it seemed like she was the furthest thing from Tommy's mind. Tommy and his brothers came from the war back differently. (Y/N) was left to be with Polly and Finn as he delved deeply into business, making that the highest importance in his life.

And then he met a woman. Grace Burgess quickly became the apple of Tommy Shelby's eye, putting yet another layer of separation between him and his daughter. (Y/N) was still a child herself when her half-brother, Charlie was born. A part of her felt jealous of the young boy; who seemed to get more attention from her father than she ever did.

At least she had the servants that had been hired on to talk to now, and that her father had thankfully listened and allowed her to have a piano teacher. Tommy never had a problem in monetarily giving (Y/N) what she desired...he just seemed to have no desire in actually bettering his actual relationship with her.

Things sort of plateaued for a bit when the family moved into Arrow House. (Y/N) joined the rest of her family for dinner - because she was expected to - and had free roam of the estate's expensive halls and grounds. Sure, it still hurt that at times she felt like she'd been ostracized from the family...that she didn't fit into the family that her father <wanted> to have. Being able to get lost on her own made up for it in a way.

Things took a sharp turn for the worse when Grace died. Tommy sequestered himself away from everyone in the family, only giving the bare minimum to everything that wasn't business. In a dark, twisted way, (Y/N) was kind of happy that Charlie was now getting a taste of what she'd been dealing with her entire life. But, of course, Tommy eventually began seeking his son out again and having meaningful moments with him, whereas with (Y/N) it just seemed like he was going through the motions; having the necessary conversations with her. The fact that she expected no less from her father scared her slightly...it meant that she was getting used to it.

As she got older, (Y/N) threw herself into her studies. She enjoyed reading and writing, and oftentimes would keep herself busy with either of the two. These two hobbies stuck as she made her way through the schooling system. Another thing that she was thankful for was her father's ever-rising status. He may have not been the most open and willing parent to her, but he did still make sure that she attended the best schools and had all of the proper help that was needed to excel in her studies. It was only what was fit for a Shelby.

As it was nearing the end of her secondary school career, (Y/N) found out that she was at the top of her class. She felt exhilarated by this news, and as soon as she got home, she just had to share it with Lizzie. Lizzie was Tommy's second wife, and the only person who seemed to really, truly care about what (Y/N) was doing. It was because of her that (Y/N) even chose to send out some letters to different universities with the hopes of being accepted into them. Her father was spending more and more time in his office due to his job in Parliament, so even if he had an inkling of interest in the things that his daughter was doing, she wouldn't know it. So she stuck to sharing the news with her step-mother.

One day towards the end of the school year, Frances stopped (Y/N) as she was walking through the front door. "Your father wants to see you in his office," she informed (Y/N), her expression not really giving much away.

Not saying anything, (Y/N) nodded and made her way to her father's office. She knocked on the mahogany door before opening it just enough so that she could peek her head through the door. "Frances told me that you wanted to see me," she announced her presence, hoping that her father would hear her and look up from what he was typing on his typewriter.

"Yes, come," Tommy answered her, waving her into the room with a flick of his wrist, his eyes just barely shifting from the work he was doing.

(Y/N) nodded before she opened the door further so that she could properly enter the room. She closed it behind her before silently moving over to the two armchairs that were sitting, facing his desk. "What is it that you want, dad?" she asked him once she was sitting in one of the chairs.

"It's, uh..." he started, pausing to slide the carriage of the machine back over to the start so that it'd ring out, before he looked over at his daughter. He cleared his throat before continuing, "it's been brought to my attention by this letter here that you have been in correspondence with Oxford." He clasped his hands together on top of what (Y/N) could only guess was said letter as he finished speaking.

The breath got caught in the young woman's throat as she nodded her head, hoping that her voice came out steady when she started to speak. There were no clues as to what her father was feeling or thinking at the moment, and she was preparing herself for the worst. "I applied for their writing program. It's been said that it's one of the best in the country, and I feel that I have what it takes to excel in it," she gave her reasoning behind what she had done. There was no use in denying it, he was the one who brought it up. What she did leave out, though, was that she also applied to this particular university because of the substantial distance that there was between its campus and Arrow House.

Tommy kept his eyes fixed on her as she spoke, listening intently to what she had to say. He didn't respond right away after she was finished. Instead he let silence hang in the air for a moment as he looked away, flipping through the papers that were sitting on his desk. The time felt like it was dragging as (Y/N) waited for what he'd say next.

"This letter was sent in response to what you sent them," he finally told her, holding a stark, white envelope out to her then.

(Y/N) looked at it for a moment before accepting it from him. She tried her best to steady her shaking hands as she went about opening it up and retrieving the letter from inside. She read it over slowly, not wanting to jump ahead of herself. But the first line was all she needed to read: Congratulations, Miss Shelby. It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into our accelerated writing program... She stopped reading there even though there was still a good bit of the letter left. Her jaw went slack as she re-read it a few more times, checking to make sure that what was printed was true.

Tommy knew what the letter held from her reaction alone. "Congratulations, (Y/N)," he offered her his own congratulatory statement.

She looked up when she heard him speak, happy tears stinging the edges of her eyes as everything sunk in. Sure what he'd said wasn't deep or very thought-provoking, but the fact that he'd said something at all was more than enough for her at that moment. "

"I knew that you'd be able to achieve this. You'll do great things, love," he told her, the smallest smile teetering on his lips.

He knew that she didn't need it, but he put in an extra word for her at the registrar’s anyway. It was the least that he could do for her. This would be the silver lining in her bleak life...her opportunity to get so far away from him and the past that he'd given her. She could make a wonderful life for herself once she stepped out from the shadow that was currently hanging over her; that had been hanging over her from the moment she was born.

And so when (Y/N) stood from the chair she was sitting on and stepped around the desk so that she could hug Tommy, he held onto her as tight as she held onto him. They were hugging each other for different reasons, reasons that if you looked at them in such a way, would show that they're actually the same.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Such a good series to binge when you want to get your mind off things. You get Peaky Blinder Tommy, and Husband Tommy. Everything you could need.

Popular Series: Innocent

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: You are forced to marry Thomas Shelby after the death of his wife Grace. Unfortunately for you, your marriage isn’t as beautiful as you thought it would be. Will you build love and desire for each other?

Please see below all PARTS published so far:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five 

Tag List:

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@tpwkstiles

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

I’m so emotional right now. This was so good! I love Uhtred so much and I didn’t know there was a fandom on here writing for him! I need more!

she’ll have the world if she wants it

uhtred ragnarsson x fem!reader, 1.9k words tw: pregnancy, canon typical violence, blood, kidnapping, general worry and distress a/n: this was requested by @elbereth-bluebird​! i started writing it as soon as you sent in the ask, so i apologize for it taking me forever to finish. i love uhtred. 

The confession slipped through your lips before you had half the gall to stop yourself. Eadith stared at you with wide eyes, lips slightly parted as she glanced over your shoulder. The men continued on laughing over the fire, ignoring you for the time being. Osferth stoked the smoldering embers as Sihtric threw on a few more pieces of wood, bringing the fire to life once more. 

Uhtred was all smiles, glancing your way—not that you saw. Your eyes were glued onto Eadith’s face as terror spread through your body. 

Keep reading

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Okay, so that was really hot.

Favorite Kind of Trouble (Matt Murdock x f!Reader x Frank Castle)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: Hiiiii! I feel like it’s been forever since I posted anything, but it’s only been a little over a week! While I battled writer’s block and also had one of the roughest weeks of my life, there was a resounding desire in my asks/replies for another poly!fic with Frank, reader, and Matt, and I finally got around to writing it today! I hope you enjoy it! Also a big shout out & thank you to my lovely beta reader @wheredidiputmyfish for being so great!

**This poly fic can be read separately from the others I’ve written, but at this point, they all take place in the same universe and are just glimpses into their relationship at different times, so if you like their dynamic, you can find links to the rest of the fics here or here!**

Summary: Frank and you get up to no good at a gala event, and Matt’s enhanced senses can’t help but focus on the pretty sounds you’re making from across the room. 

(Warnings: oh brother, smut, like pretty much all smut zero plot, somewhat dom!frank, somewhat sub!matt, switch!reader, semi-public fun!!!, fingering, dirty talk (frank mainly lmfao), blow job, choking, wholesome poly flirting, frank and matt think they’re unworthy of each other!!!, they’re all idiots in love) 

The gala had officially stretched into its fourth hour, and you couldn’t believe how incredibly unperturbed Matt looked as he politely chuckled at, yet another, bad joke told by the snobby businessman in the too-tight tux. You shifted in your seat, subtly stretching your legs towards Frank, who at least had the decency to look bored. Under the table, your left thigh brushed against his right, and his attention shifted to you as he cocked an eyebrow in your direction.

God, he was so pretty. You didn’t tell him enough, but every time Frank looked at you, even when you were out in public and he refused to let his guard down, the subtle softening of his eyes when they landed on you made him the prettiest goddamn man you’d ever met. You flicked your gaze across the table to Matt, who was putting on a good show and pretending to listen to a rather boring anecdote – the only man that rivaled Frank in the looks department – and they were both wound so tightly around your finger that you couldn’t imagine being happier with anyone else. 

Most of the public had no idea that you, Frank, and Matt were something of a trio. They didn’t even know Frank’s real name. To most people, and certainly to the prying eyes of the elites attending the gala, you and “Pete” were a wealthy, but private couple who knew Matt through connections in the art world. They had no idea that the three of you shared a bed, a home, a life together. As frustrating as it was to keep that part of his life a secret, Matt gladly played the part. They didn’t get to wake up wrapped in the arms of the people he loved, and that’s really what mattered to him, and that way, Frank could have the honor of staking his claim over you in public. It all worked out rather well, when he thought about it. 

Your gaze returned to Frank. Your eyes slowly followed the trail of buttons up his torso, over the bowtie at the base of his neck, attention snagging on his lips before finally meeting his intense stare. To others, Frank might look stoic, bored, and maybe even annoyed, but you saw the desire in his eyes, felt the way the muscles in his thighs flexed as he shifted in his seat. He wanted it too, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

The gleam in your eyes told him you were up to something, and even if he wasn’t able to read the mischief in your smirk, the subtle twist in Matt’s neck as his ears perked up told him everything he needed to know. Frank leaned closer to you, brushing your bare shoulder with his lips before whispering in your ear. 

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, and you nearly swore when his fingertips brushed over your bare knee. An innocent stroke of the hand from a caring lover. A simple, loving gesture between the mysterious couple that kept mostly to themselves at events like these. That’s what anyone who might be watching would assume, and you knew it. 

“What if someone sees?” You breathed in a hushed whisper, but your legs were already opening for him. The effect he had on you was maddening.

“No one can see us.” He assured you, promptly glancing around the room again to solidify his promise. His hand rubbed lazy circles on your thigh, fingertips barely ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh as he slowly made his way up your leg. 

“What if someone hears?” You eyed him warily, though the spark of desire had shot through you like a bullet the second he’d made contact with your skin. 

“If you’re worried about it, you’ll just have to stay extra quiet, sweetheart.” He lightly flicked your nose with his free hand, grinning as annoyance briefly crossed your face. “Besides, Red’s bored too. He’s probably harder than I am right now, wishing he could touch himself under the table like I’m about to do to you.”

The abrupt sound of Matt’s knee crashing against the underside of the table pulled your attention from Frank. The guests seated near him jumped as he fumbled to catch his wine glass before it tumbled to the floor. You bit your lip in an attempt to smother your giggle. For a moment, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Matt cleared his throat, apologizing under his breath as he took a hefty swig of his wine. As the conversations around the room picked back up, Matt glared in your direction. You looked back at Frank, who was smirking.

“Want to play a game, sweetheart?” He whispered, breath coasting over the curve of your ear. 

“Is it at poor Matty’s expense?” You cooed, spreading your legs wider as his fingertips grazed the lace of your underwear.

“Maybe.” He smirked, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

He shifted your underwear aside, and you had to take a deep breath so that you didn’t moan as the cool air kissed your wet cunt. Frank was normally a patient man when it came to coaxing an orgasm out of you, opting to draw out the experience so that you could enjoy it as much as possible, even if that meant teasing you for hours before finally giving in to your begs. But tonight, with his attention half on you and half on Matt, he had very little patience for games. Not that you were complaining. 

He slid a finger through your folds, relishing in the warmth and slickness he found there. You tensed in your seat, flicking your gaze to Matt, who looked like he was going to be sick. Frank’s warm breath heated your neck as he whispered against your skin.

“How long do you think Red will last like this?” He asked, eyes briefly flickering to Matt before returning to yours. He gently circled your clit, eyeing the heat that was crawling up your neck. “How long do you think he’ll be able to hear your pretty little moans before it becomes too much for him?”

Matt tugged at his bowtie, clearing his throat as sweat beaded on his forehead. The tension in the air was electric, and when he parted his lips, allowing the fullness of your desire to hit his senses, it nearly undid him. You were so wet around Frank’s fingers, and the sounds of your soft hums of pleasure combined with Frank’s teasing tone was enough to make him so hard that it ached. He tried and failed to divert his attention back to the conversation around him, only able to focus on your quiet sighs and Frank’s encouraging mumbles. 

“I know you can hear us, Red.” Frank teased, adding pressure to your clit. You gripped your seat with white knuckles, panting at the friction building in your core. “I couldn’t help myself. She looks,” he plunged an additional finger into your cunt for emphasis, “ravishing tonight.” 

Frank could feel how close you were, relished in the tightness of your cunt as it clenched around his fingers. Matt, he guessed, was not far behind you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, fumbling with his glass as he tried to look interested in the story being told. 

“C’mon Red. You know it’s impolite for a man to cum before a lady.” He mumbled, breathing into your ear. His eyes flickered between you and Matt, and both of you looked like you were about to cry. Matt’s fingers tightened on the glass, and you clenched around him again. “Don’t you want to cum in her tight cunt later? Don’t you want to fuck your cum deep into her pretty pussy? She’s been such a good girl tonight. She deserves our cum, Red, don’t you think?” 

His vulgar words were your undoing. You wilted against his chest as your orgasm crashed through you, the throbbing pressure easing as he coaxed it out of you. You moaned as quietly as you could, muffled only by the fabric of Frank’s coat as you shuttered against him. Simultaneously, as you came around Frank’s fingers, Matt’s hand clenched around the wine glass so tightly that the glass cracked, and then shattered all over the table, spilling a red stain down the front of his pristine shirt.

The crowd around Matt shrieked, and Frank watched as he calmly excused himself from the table and hurried towards the bathroom. Guilt crashed through him, though he was sure Matt wouldn’t be upset about the shirt. He likely wouldn’t be upset about the small cuts in his hand either. Matt was forgiving like that. Frank didn’t feel like he deserved one bit of his kindness.

“Is she okay?” 

The voice drew him out of his thoughts, back into his body, which was half curled around you as you recovered from your intense orgasm. The stranger sitting diagonal from you and Frank eyed him warily.

“Too much,” you panted, excuse already on the tip of your tongue, “wine. I think I had too much wine, darling.”

You ungracefully attempted to stand, and Frank wondered how much of this was for show and which parts of it were genuine as you leaned into his arms for support. The shakiness in your legs was definitely real, he decided.

“I’m going to take her to the bathroom to sober up. Thank you.” He nodded at the man, who was already half engrossed in another conversation as he led you in the direction that Matt had come a few minutes earlier. As soon as the two of you were out of sight, you straightened, giggling at the show you’d had to put on. 

“I didn’t know I was dating an actress.” Frank grinned, rapping on the bathroom door with his knuckles.

“I didn’t know either.” You laughed again.

The door unlocked, and you and Frank covertly slid into the bathroom with Matt, who was a heated, panting mess against the tile of the walls. You could clearly see his desire tented in his pants, and you smirked at Frank in response.

“We did that.” You murmured, stepping closer to Matt’s whining figure. 

Frank hummed, reaching for Matt’s hand and inspecting the wounds inflicted by the wine glass. You paused, waiting for a signal from Frank that Matt was okay. Matt was so delirious and high on desire that you knew he could be bleeding out and would insist that he was okay. A slight nod of Frank’s head told you to continue.

You sank to your knees, quickly unbuckling Matt’s belt and pulling his cock free from his pants. Frank wrapped a hand around Matt’s throat, gently pressing him against the wall as you licked the underside of Matt’s cock. Matt whimpered, involuntarily bucking his hips in response.

“Be patient, Red,” Frank murmured, pressing a kiss onto Matt’s jaw, “We’ll take care of you.”

You wrapped your lips around Matt, bobbing up and down his length in a feverish haze. Matt was so worked up that you knew it wouldn’t take long to undo him. Matt tried and failed to keep his whimpers and groans quiet, and he was so loud at one point that Frank had to cover Matt’s mouth with his hand, smothering the noises he couldn’t help but make. 

You pushed yourself further down his length, opening your throat to him as you hurried your pace. Matt tensed, grabbing onto Frank’s arm as he let out a stunted groan. He grunted, and you felt thick spurts of cum make their way down your throat. You swallowed around him, grinning when he rested his head against the wall behind him, panting so hard that it sounded like he had just finished running a marathon. 

You stood, adjusting your dress as Matt’s consciousness finally returned to his body. He smirked as he adjusted his pants.

“You two are the worst kind of trouble.” 

“We're your favorite kind of trouble.” You corrected, chuckling and eyeing the stain that probably wouldn’t come out of Matt’s shirt no matter how hard you scrubbed it. “Sorry about your shirt.” 

“And your hand.” Frank added. Guilt flashed in his eyes, but it ebbed away as Matt kissed both of you deeply, hands gently cradling the two of you. Matt wouldn’t admit it so nonchalantly, but when he got the chance to hold both of you like this, he felt like he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. 

“I’m not upset. I love you. Both of you.”

Frank nodded, humming in acknowledgment, and you noted the way Matt’s jaw ticked. You knowingly squeezed his hand. Frank didn't believe he was worthy of anyone’s love, let alone Matty’s, and you and Matt both knew it. But it wasn’t the time or place for that conversation, and you had no doubt he would breach that topic of conversation later, when Frank’s guard wasn’t so high, and he was feeling comfortable and loved.

“Wanna get out of here?” Matt smiled, squeezing your hand.

“Lead the way, handsome.”

“Good. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” 

You snorted with laughter as Frank ran a hand down his face. 

“That was the lamest thing you’ve ever said, Red. I’m embarrassed for you.” 

“I’ll make it up to you later.” Matt smirked.

“You promise?” Frank dared, arching an eyebrow.

“Trust me, Frankie. I promise.” 

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @megmastersgf @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @alina02 @thedevilwearsblack @violet-19999 @shoxji @layazul @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21 @thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @dreadfulxives18 @schneeflocky

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

I need to start my days more, reading stuff like this. Just saying.

'*•.¸♡ 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒅𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 ♡¸.•*'

'•.¸♡ ˏˋ°•⁀➷ ari levinson x (non-descriptive) female!reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings: daddy kink, blow jobs, praise kink, spitting

: ̗̀➛ word count: 1,031 (was supposed to be a liccle blurb but oh well)

: ̗̀➛ notes: this is word vomit. tbh, not even i know what this actually is. go with the flow my dudes. also be nice. i haven't written smut properly in a while. i'll come for yer kneecaps.

ari coming home after a long, gruelling work trip; one he didn't want to go on; especially without you. usually, he would take you along with him; however, this time he couldn't. all week you had been receiving text after text of him complaining about his day, him telling you how much he missed you, how he just wanted to be home with you.

the day he's due to come home, you spent every moment from the second you opened your eyes getting the home you both shared in tip top shape. scrubbing the floors, fluffing cushions, vacuuming until your arms and legs ached. since he was arriving home late, you made sure to slip into a little white nightie, one you knew he loved; delicate lace and sheer fabric with a matching lingerie set underneath. you set him his usual glass of whisky next to his chair and get yourself sat with a glass of wine, arm draped over the back of the couch while watching the door with eager eyes, waiting for the turning of the handle.

finally,

''daddy's home,'' ari sang, voice deep and laced with a mix of relief and exhaustion as cracked the door open and he stepped over the threshold, dropping his bag to the floor and shrugging the heavy coat off his shoulders and leaving them on the floor.

you perked up, melting down, your head leaning on your arm, heart eyes peered up at his figure slowly coming towards you, a tired smile on his lips.

“hi, daddy,'' you sing sweetly back at him, leaning up to meet his lips.

“hi, baby,'' he whispers back to you, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before making his way to his chair, dropping down with a heavy sigh and leaning down to untie the laces of his boots.

“no, no,'' you protest, slipping off the couch and sinking to the floor, discarding your glass on the coffee table before crawling over to him. ''come here, daddy. lemme help.”

you get to taking his boots off slowly, slipping them off over his overworked feet, dropping the heavy boots to the side of you before turning your attention to rubbing his thighs, massaging out the tension and peering up into his ocean eyes, while he praises you, “such a good girl. you take good care of your daddy, don't you, baby? best little wife in the world.''

“i didn't know if you ate before you came home or not,'' you say, lifting up onto your knees and working your hands up his torso, ''order food or shall i cook for you, daddy?”

“order in, baby, let’s have an easy night,” ari replies, hand cupping the side of your face, thumb stroking over your cheek.

you nod, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, his biceps as you capture him in a languid kiss, his hand moving to your hair, another heavy on the back of your neck. your fingers find their way to his belt, but as you about to pull the leather through the buckle, he pulls back; a whine slipping out of your throat.

“baby, it’s been a long day. i need a shower,” ari chuckles lowly.

“i don’t care,” you whisper back at him, pressing a last delicate kiss to his lips before getting back to work unbuckling his belt, and unbuttoning his jeans.

he raises enough for you to slip his jeans to his thighs. your fingers trace over the prominent bulge hidden by his briefs. you mouthed over the the fabric, finding the tip and concentrating there. your gleeful eyes lightening up as your husband finally relaxes into his chair, shoulders dropping with a quiet moan.

''that's my girl,'' ari praises as you pull down the waistband of his underwear, letting his cock spring free. ''come on, honey, less looking. get you mouth on it,'' he prompts, grasping a gentle handful of your hair and guiding you back down.

you blow him slowly, licking base to tip, peppering kisses and kitten licks along the length, hand reaching down to cup his balls, softly massaging them in the palm of your hand. the sounds of his moans, deep in his chest spurring you on. you could hear him slowly losing his mind as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock before finally working your mouth down on his length.

''so good to me, my sweet, little wife,'' he starts to babble, his tired, gravelly voice mixed with his low moans made your thighs clench and your core ache. ''such an angel. letting me put my dirty cock in that sweet little mouth. do anything for your hardworking, daddy, huh?'' you nod with hollowed out cheeks, his grip on your hair softly guiding you up and down on his cock.

you notice ari's eyes drift to his glass of whisky, his hand stayed tangled in your hair as he reached over for the glass with his other hand, taking a long sip as you continued to work yourself on his cock.

''come here, baby,'' he says, tugging you off his cock and guiding your head back by your hair. ''let's share a drink.''

ari leaned down and gripped your cheeks, forcing your lips to part before he spat a steady stream of whisky straight into your mouth. heat bloomed through your thighs and your core ached as the bitter alcohol sliped down throat; the easiest whisky has ever gone down. eyes wide, you let out a needy whine.

“oh, you want more?” ari teased with a laugh.

you give a little nod and part your lips for him to repeat the action. you drink it down while he finished the contents of the glass and placed it back down. with a dirty smirk, he tiled your head back again with, fingers wrapped around your chin, fingers pushing into your cheek. you let your mouth fall open, gasping as he spat into your mouth and pulled you in for filthy kiss before guiding you back to his cock.

“that’s my girl,” he praised, relaxing back into his chair, head lulling back with a moan. “fuck,” he drawed out slow, “that fuckin’ mouth.”

uh bye

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

So hot and so well written! Thank you for sharing this with us!

Thomas Shelby; For a Good Cause a/n: After geeking to a dear friend about the slutty Brummie ganster... I had this idea. Shoutout to @jvstsaywhen for helping sort out my messy thoughts and giving me a good laugh in the process. You are an angel for dealing with my dramaticize.... ah.... however it's spelled ;) I hope you enjoy this chaos... Er... that's all... <3 plot: Tommy is in a mood and snaps at Frances. His wife does not approve... Warnings: Smuttttt, swearing, terrible plot and messy structure Word count: 3,098

There were days where Tommy would traipse around the house with docile ignorance to time. When life was in his command and the very March of the clock seemed to tick, tick, tick to his orders. ‘On the up’ he used to say, having his ducks lined in a neat row to be sent out and executed accordingly. Everyone enjoyed Tommy in this state, finding his company to be much more approachable and welcoming than the latter when hell seemed to burn in his stare. 

His wife thoroughly enjoyed his good moods, praising his tactical brilliance all the while as he would share his plans to expand the ever increasing wealth of Shelby Company Limited. He liked strategies, and when one was perfectly flowing by his bullet points, it gave him time to relax into her touch and devote attention to her. God, she loved when the world revolved around Thomas Shelby and bowed to his will accordingly. 

That day… was not one of those times. 

The house was torn into a hurricane. Thomas didn’t walk nor traipse, stuck in his office since dawn. No, he simmered, brooded, boiled. Whatever familial, political or business related issue he was stewing over, she thought better than to interrupt or disturb him. His sharp tongue and quick wit was only favorable when the dark cloud above his head wasn’t there striking lightning and crackling a roar of thunder. He was intolerable when he was struck under these moods, and so she busied herself that day on the other side of the house and ignored altogether his office. 

That is, until she caught word through the walls of the house of an episode involving their dear, loyal head maid and her moody, tempered husband. He’d snapped at her! Two younger maids were gossiping in the corridor, the woman of the house’s steps light and airy as she descended into the madness. She was not one to play into the whispers and traveling gossip, never sure how much truth was seeded through the game of telephone. However, the news she’d captured was not all that unbelievable. In fact, she believed every single word of it. 

Even so, she went straight to the source, confronting the maid about her husband’s behavior. She came on behalf of Frances, in favor of the woman, and she made that very clear as she approached her. “I have overheard Thomas has said something to upset you, Frances…Please, before you try to defend him, I am coming to get the truth so I can proceed and make sure this is dealt with properly…. No, Frances, his behavior is not alright! ….No matter what tantrum he has conjured within himself, he is not to unload it upon you! ……I assure you, this will be handled immediately. …..Take the evening off, I insist. As well as the other maids. I will be sure he eats something…” Yeah, a stale loaf and murky bath water… The lengthy exchange had come to an end with permission to relax and recover from Thomas’ short temper. She sincerely apologized on his behalf, embracing the older woman fondly. She had been a constant in the midst of the ever changing staff who were scared off by the Shelby man. 

The woman stopped short of the office door, glaring daggers into the polished oak as she debated entering inside and ripping into him. Her better judgment stalled her fantasy, knowing the outcome of such frivolous escapades. Thomas, much like an impetuous child being reprimanded, did not respond well to arguing and the rise of her voice. Yelling and screaming would only fuel coal into his burning fire. She did not wish to stoke this outrage but to smother it in water and cut off its supply of oxygen before it further burned anyone in the household. Had he kept his mood to himself, she wouldn’t have even bothered to address it. He lost that privilege the moment he spoke against Frances. Now, he must be scolded…. But craftily. 

Other alternatives were needed besides yelling. As his wife of sometime now, she had learned how to best escalate these outbursts: by meeting him in the middle… Of his body that is, speaking through his cock- on his cock- while his mind was clouded by pleasure and would adhere to anything and everything she said. Men were really, truly simple-minded creatures at the end of the day… and the sun had just begun to descend from the sky. 

She popped back up into their bedroom and slipped into something a little more uncomfortable for the evening. Adorned in a silk slip with sheer lingerie hidden beneath, she padded downstairs after a few spritz of perfume and a light toss of her hair on her shoulders. The clothing she wore was not for her benefit but his, remembering a comment he had made about how he so adored her in such apparel. As a good, devoted wife would, she remembered these things to spark erotica into his heart when the mood fancied her more than him. She’d never been turned away blatantly, but sometimes it took a retreating reprieve to lick her wounds and come back with vengeance, looking good enough to eat. And eat he would. 

Out of respect, she knocked. Time ticked by, moments stretching into a minute before she heard, ‘Come’. It was gruff and calloused, her eyes narrowing as she pushed the door open, adjusting the tie at her waist. It was late enough in the evening to assume she would be in such attire, batting eyelashes to clear the glare from her gaze as she sought his form out. 

Stress cloaked the shadows of his face, earning a soft hum from her lips as she followed the maze of chairs and coffee table to appear before him. “I know you’re busy, so I will keep it short and sweet.” She purred decadently, a sultry glance offered in jest as she removed the silk from her body to be devoured by the glaring gaze of her husband. He was upset to be interrupted, jaw tightening further at the new material offered to gaze at. Whether or not he enjoyed this view was beyond her, but she bathed in the heat of his stare nonetheless. Her name fell across her lips, either in plea or warning… Again, she was unsure of the origin, but it didn’t matter. She pursued on with her mission, rounding the desk. He leaned back in the throne of his palace, a good sign she noted. She was not above fucking on paperwork like a needy whore she often was; however, the wise woman was attempting to make his life a little less irritating. Wrinkled papers and soiled cardstock would only upset him further, so she began neatly piling the mess onto the side with enough room for her to be splayed out in front of him later however he saw fit. 

The undergarments she wore left little to the imagination, swaying her hips in a tantalizing manner while she worked. Her ass, one of her better features in her opinion, was perfectly on display in front of him covered in pale blue. Straightening, she turned to address him once more. He hadn’t spoken, a sharp glare slicing into her. “I can see the ungreased gears grinding in your mind, Thomas. You’re running off of smoke and fumes, and you’re reasoning and decision making will suffer for it. So,” A grin slipped over her lips, dropping to her knees with a look of need so saturated in exaggeration it was almost too satire to believe… Either way, he didn’t seem to notice or care, head cocked in interest. Jesus, he looked divine, the burdens of the world resting atop his shoulders working for him. And that damned waistcoat… His sleeves rolled in the sluttiest of ways to his elbows. She melted, biting her lip. “Let me help you clear your… head…” Teeth tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, pushing her palms onto his thighs as she rolled between his legs. Her head tilted, seeking his lips for a kiss. It was ultimately his choice to agree, eyes fluttered at half mast with a beckoning gaze. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as his lips brushed hers, reaching further to seal their agreement in a kiss. He was so fucking easy to draw in, lips quirking into a smug grin as his hand wrapped around her throat with a delicate squeeze. Pressed further into his palm, she extended her vulnerability towards him. Even in his worst of mood, she trusted him wholly with her life. He would never allow harm to come to her, either by another’s or his own hand. That much she could count on. 

The unholy darkened gaze of lust pooling in his icy stare was enough to drench her thighs in arousal, mouth watering and nearly forgetting her reason for this visit. It was so easy to be trapped in the riptide of his attention, treading dangerous waters as if she were in the shallows. She wanted to drown in his affection, tightening fingers around his thighs, scratching at the fabric which was now proving to be an annoying barrier. She had come prepared for this, the least he could do was catch up!

“How do you want me, Mr. Shelby?” She whispered against her hungry embrace, nipping at his bottom lip while trailing her palm up his thigh and towards his groin. There was no doubt in her mind of his hardening state, only solidifying what she knew to be true while stroking his growing arousal. “How can I help you relax, sir?” Fingers twitched around her throat, pulling a low groan from her lips, tilting her head back eagerly. “Bent over my desk, Mrs. Shelby. First piece of business crossing it that I’ve enjoyed working on.” The gravel in his voice was thrown down at his feet, collecting at her knees where she hurriedly moved to obey his command. Her heart pattered on incessantly in her chest, wiggling from her underwear; the fabric pooled at her feet in a soft flutter, kicked aside as rough hands found the new expanse of flesh. 

Her wiggling in search of something to grind against earned her behind a quick slap. She yelped, more out of surprise than anything. It hardly hurt, the blushing print of his hand fading as quickly as it had come… much to her disappointment, but the thrill of his reprimand remained, stepping aside to flaunt his goods for him. It all belonged to him anyways, something he was all too aware of given his patience… 

“Please, Tommy…” She whined, shuddering delightfully as his fingers traced the inner flesh of her parted thigh. He strayed from where the subtle ache began to grow, needy and impatient for the relief that only he could offer. She arched in such a way to find the edge of the desk brushing teasingly against her swelling bundle of nerves. A moan caught in her throat, hissing softly at the sharp pain receding into pleasure. It wasn’t enough to satiate her, and if anything it only brought a renewed rush of desperation to settle in her belly. 

He chuckled, kneading the flesh of her thigh with one hand while the other handled the buttons of his trousers. “Thought this was for my stress relief, hm? Looks like you’re in need of a reliever as well.” His words unnerved her, eyes rolling backwards with a shiver rolling under her spine. Remember the mission… Right… 

“You’ve not touched me in more than a week, Thomas. Do forgive your wife for seeking out your affection once in a while, ey?” She bit playfully, reaping the reward of her snarky attitude as Thomas adorned another smack to her ass. In the process of recovering from the delicious prick of pain stinging her flesh, he introduced her to a new sensation of minor discomfort: one she never truly grew accustomed to no matter how prepared she was. The head of his cock pushed past slick folds and buried himself within her cunt in a single thrust. A hot moan burbled from her lips, unbridled need spilling unabashed in the presence of her creator and destroyer. With one word he could build her higher than the tallest mountain or steepest building, and the slightest brush of his hand could have her crumpling harder to the floor than the burning of Rome. 

“Then it’s all too overdue, isn’t it?” He rasped, finding the natural handle to grip of her curved hip, recoiling back and striking fast. Even despite his girth and size, she would always adjust, but in the initial moment of penetration she relished the twinge of pain brimming with tension as it dissolved deliciously into pleasure. Part of the reason for dismissing the maids for the evening was her inability to withhold the melodic chorus of praises falling from her mouth, blessing the gods for creating such a man to ravish her so thoroughly. It’d become a rule to not withhold her sounds of enjoyment from him, and she made no effort to do so at that moment as he decided on a pace that best suited his mood then: brutal. 

With a pace that would surely bring a bruising hand print from how tightly he held her, pulling back and snapping his hips back just as quickly, she smoothed her hands against the top of the desk towards the edge where she curled her fingers to give hold to something. It was all the stability she had, the balls of her feet lifting from the floor while he moved her where he wanted, how he wanted, and when. Her nails clawed into the pine or oak or whatever the hell he wanted his damned desk to be, sure to have ruined a perfectly good manicure, but for a good cause. The color could easily be reapplied at a later date, then focusing on keeping her footing as she was propped on her tippy toes. She trusted him further to not let her fall into a mess onto the floor, and he ever so kindly secured her faith with a hand snaking into her scalp and pulling. A choked moan fell from her lips, taking every inch of his borderline abusive thrusts. She was greedy for his attention, hungrily devouring every gruff grunt and groan that parted his scowl. “I want to see you, Tommy… please.” She murmured, rolling with what little power she had to match his relentless pace. Three times he slammed into her again, relinquishing enough to spin and toss her body onto the desk like a rag doll. Desire hooded her gaze, reaching blindly to grasp at his shoulders and pull him in for a heated kiss. Masterfully, he maneuvered himself once more between her thighs, drawing a shared sigh of relief from them both. She would have thanked him if she could form a coherent fucking thought then, too busy clawing and grasping at his clothes to shed them. The waistcoat, his shirt, exposing every layer until his chest was bared before her. 

Her lips attacked him with as much abandon as he fucked her, spreading her legs further, tucking them appropriately around his waist to latch onto him. His breath was hot against her neck, teeth sinking into her pulse point while she lay siege to his back with an assault of her nails. 

“Thomas, fuck, right there!” Over and over again he drilled the head of his erection in the most calculated way to curl her toes and see stars beneath her eyelids. She whimpered softly, the guilt brushing over her intense pleasure that it prolonged her release. Agitated, she clung tighter to him, begging for more of him: harder, faster, deeper. Thomas was all too kind to comply, filling the office room with her sweet, sweet cries paired with the harmony of skin meeting skin. Pressure built within his abdomen, muscles tightening, flexing, burning for release. The tell of his impending orgasm came in the subtle loss of his rhythm, arm snaking around her waist for support as he chased after the high. His needy behavior pulled her father into the swarming heat boiling within her stomach, whining for his attention, demanding he satiate her needs as well. She didn’t have to ask twice, finding relief in the flick of his thumb over the slick of her bundled nerves, circling her button with relative ease; it seemed as though he hardly had to put effort into causing her downfall. 

“Oh, fucking- Tommy, fuck me, please… Fill me, love,” Her sweet coax was his own demolition, cresting the mountain and quickly crashing down in a crescendo of blurring release. She held her orgasm until he came, coming undone in the very capable hands of her husband with breathless cries of his name which would disperse evenly throughout the room and haunt him later while he attempted to finish his letters. Good. She would reduce herself to nothing more than his panting, begging whore if it meant he would return regularly to their marital bed. 

The moment directly after an orgasm was possibly her favorite. Silence enveloped them safely in an embrace, sweat coated bodies relaxing into one another while they panted into one another’s mouth for oxygen. No words were needed in exchange, holding onto him for a moment longer before allowing him to part from her and collect his composure. A breathless giggle, blissed to heaven and back in the warm delusion post orgasm. “You will apologize to Frances for the harsh comment you made to her earlier.” She breathed, her tone soft but sincere, rounded with an authority she only carried when necessary. As he tucked himself within his trousers, he nodded curtly, shifting his glance to her suspiciously. A smile graced her lips, waiting for him to hand her undergarments to her like a gentleman should, accepting them with a soft ‘thank you’. 

“This is how you relieve built up tension, not snapping at your staff in undeserved anguish. Especially Frances. I’m your wife; I’m made to take it.” she slipped from the desk, wrapping the robe around her body once more. Her hand threaded through his scalp comfortingly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Try not to spend all night working. I will be in bed when you decide to join me. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” 

The faintest quirk of a smile met his lips, pecking her lips before she escaped him. “Goodnight, my love.”

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

How would Nick react in clockwork au if puppy was blearily saying James’ name in her sleep?

𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

✧˚ · . Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul.

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. AU masterlist. listening to — ♫sleepless warnings —general dark elements (dark AU), a/b/o dynamics, manipulation. a/n — thank you for the ask and interest in the AU! i hope you enjoy. jessica chastain is not a representative of the readers looks i just wanted a gif of nick kissing a forehead lol. not beta read, we die like men.

The first time Nick heard it, he thought it was ghosts whispering that damned name in his ear.

The second time Nick heard it, he realised it was a scarier reality than phantoms.

You were calling for James in your sleep again, an occurrence that happened regularly.

Even after all the work Nick had put into making you his, there was still that subconscious part of you that held onto the past. Even though you smiled at him in your waking hours, someone else had a space in your heart.

It wasn’t like it was unexpected. Nick knew he would be crazy to assume you would have no residual feelings for your lost life. But it still hurt. His omega, calling for someone else.

He wondered what you dreamt. Did you dream of James in a world where he survived? Or were they memories of the past? Did he treat you well? Were you happy?

There was a quirk in your lips, a slight sway of your hips. Were you dancing with him?

Nick considered calling Steve. Doctor Kemp always seemed to have a way of making omegas comply, plus he was one of his greatest allies. But Nick knew that the heavy-handed approach wouldn’t be appropriate here. While Steve’s suggestion of having other alphas use you worked to break you down beautifully, accessing a soul was a task that required a delicate touch.

Slipping from the bed, Nick left you in your peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man you would never have. In nothing more than black sweatpants and a navy sweater, he sat in his chilly office.

For a while, he just kept the lights off and pondered.

If his younger self could see him now, he wondered what he’d think. This was certainly not the life Nick had intended to lead.

But the world was cruel, and so he became crueller. To escape hardship, he became the creator of it. A devil walking the earth. 

Around you, though, he wanted to be good to you. He would never forget when he heard you laugh for the first time. Nick had accidentally tickled your sides while brushing past you, and the sound that came from you was glorious.

Nick sighed, pouring himself a scotch from the decanter. He’d burn the world, but keep you safe always.

After he’d finished his glass, the familiar burn of liquor pooling in his belly, Nick turned to the only other person he trusted the opinion of.

Hal Carter. The alpha worked on Ari’s ranch. While Ari bred omegas using alpha studs, Hal trained them and kept them calm. He was gentle. Those girls were taken well cared of, which was to be expected when they needed to produce pups.

It was an art how Hal could smile and exude calming energy to those around him. His words were always smooth like silk, rolling off his tongue so naturally you can’t help but listen. It helped the omegas stay calm, and they all trusted him. He was still one of the bad guys; all the alphas in his circle were. But he was the best of the bad. Scott Huffman, the one who would take Ari’s bred pups in and raise them on his ranch, he was a close second.

Within thirty minutes of texting him, Hal turned up on the mansion’s doorstep. The sun was barely rising, only subtle hues of gold beginning to grow.

“Thanks for coming so early,” Nick ushered Hal inside, bringing him to the office while the rest of the home remained in a dream state.

“I normally get up by dawn to go hunting anyway, s’no trouble.” Nonchalant as ever, Hal sat himself down in one of the office armchairs in his green plaid shirt and blue jeans.

Nick poured himself another scotch, plopping two ice cubes into the crystal glass. “Want a drink?”

Hal raised a brow, scoffing. “Unless it’s orange juice, no. I ‘ain’t drinking.”

“I can do that,” Nick said, disappearing from the room and returning with a tall glass of juice, a slight shudder of nervousness in his hand when he gave it to Hal.

There was a rawness in the air, as if Nick wasn’t playing a game. He was putting his whole deck of cards on the table for Hal to see. It was hard to trust, but Nick didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

Nick sat in the armchair opposite Hal, swirling the liquid in his glass, and Hal quirked his head. “Look, as much as I love catching up with you, why did you ask me here so urgently? Is something wrong?”

Nick went through the long explanation of your past, how you came into his care, and how you were acting now. Hal listened attentively, face staying blank as the horrors were laid bare. After explaining, Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to dream of me. Dream of her alpha.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve killed her alpha, kidnapped her, had her gang fucked, chased her, and choked her until she passed out, yet you expect her to dream of you?”

There was a beat of silence before Hal spoke again. “Do you really act like her alpha? She’s not a toy, Nick. And she’s not just a pet. You have to be gentle.”

“I don’t know how to be gentle,” Nick sneered, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Bullshit. Every alpha has a gentle instinct deep down. Be the alpha your sister and mother would have wanted you to become.”

Nick growled and stood, throwing the glass at the wall behind Hal’s head, the crystal shattering into a million shards across the dark hardwoods. It was ballsy bringing up his family. The other alpha flinched slightly, but he wasn’t afraid.

Nick puffed his chest, gritting his teeth so hard they were ready to shatter. “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re pushing it, Hal.”

“It is cruel. But it’s what ‘ya needed to hear. The world is fucked, but her world doesn’t have to be. You’re the one bringing that upon her. You want her to dream of you? Give her memories good enough to dream about. You’ve broken her down, and done the harsh things you needed to. Now you need to build her back up. Without that affection, she will just continue to crumble time and time again. Don't you want to see her smile?”

“More than anything,” Nick grumbled, sitting back in his chair with a hardened expression. He wanted to feel your happiness through the bond. It was like a drug.

Hal drank the last of his juice, setting the glass down gently on the side table. “Then, there you go. Just work to make her smile for you more. Life is good with a happy omega, Nick.”

“She hates what I do, though. And I can’t - and won’t - change that.”

“Then make her existence with you good enough to outweigh that.” Hal proposed the idea like it was easy. Just treat you right, and it would all fall into place.

But was it really that easy?

The chase had changed you. You were more receptive to Nick and seemed more content overall. But he could still see the flickers of fear that lay dormant, ready to wake at any time. And James— Well. Your subconscious hadn’t let him go yet.

Perhaps Hal was right. Maybe you were broken enough that you’d adapt to this life with some positive reinforcement.

After Hal had left, Nick ordered the staff to make you breakfast before he wandered back up to the bedroom, the morning sun beginning to peek past the blinds. Nick took his jumper off, wanting to feel your skin on his. 

You shifted a little in your sleep when the bed dipped from Nick’s weight, his arms looping around you and pulling your naked form close. “...Alpha…?” You asked blearily. It wasn’t often you got morning cuddles like this. Normally, Nick was already working by the time you rose.

“Morning, omega,” Nick kissed your forehead, spooning you so his warm, firm chest was flush with your back. “Nice dreams?”

You stiffened for a moment before nodding, curling into his hold comfortably. “Yeah.”

“Good. I need you full of energy today,” Nick said as he kissed your neck gingerly, a soft contrast to his tight hold on you.

Nick ran his hand up and down your side, fingers running over the bruises he’d left on your skin the day prior when he fucked you rough over his desk.

“Are we playing hunt the whelp?” Your voice wavered nervously. So meek, so small. Nick nearly growled at the thought of hunting you, but he held it back.

Nick cleared his throat, shifting a little, so his hard-on wasn’t too obvious against your ass. He was trying to focus, all his energy going into being nice. But Nick could tell you knew he was turned on, your own arousal signalling through the bond. “No, no. We’re going shopping.”

You perked up at that, turning to look at Nick. Your curious shining eyes had his heart skipping a beat. “Shopping? Like, going outside?”

“Yes. We’re going into town. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

The excitement that flooded the bond was overwhelming. Nick had never felt anything like it. You were happy. But there was some anxiety there too. “Won’t people recognise you? What if something goes wrong?” You asked with a growing frown.

Nick shhed you, gently running his finger over your frown and pushing your lips up at the edge so you were smiling. “You’re the safest omega in the world. Plus, Beck and Mace will be there too.”

Your expression turned into a genuine smile. And Nick smiled back.

“Sit up. I need to check your head.” Nick turned to the bedside, getting together his dabbing alcohol and bandages. You always seemed to end up with some injury after Nick had a bad day. It wasn’t overly intentional, but his anger often turned into dark arousal that left you sore and battered but pleasured too.

You’d banged your head on the desk yesterday when Nick shoved you down and caught your forehead on one of his fountain pens. It left a cut, but Beck dismissed it as minor, needing to be covered with a plaster.

Nick pulled away the bandage with you sitting cross-legged in front of him. He hummed, content at the sight of the healing cut. “Looks good, pup. My good girl, healing so well.”

Nick could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he gently cleaned the cut before placing a fresh bandage on the wound.

“Ah, just in time.” Nick put his things away as your breakfast was brought in. Pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries.

You seemed like a fish out of water, and Nick understood that. He was flipping his demeanour for you. This was new for him, but not entirely unwelcome, especially when he felt your ease through the bond.

Nick sat with you, cutting up the pancakes and feeding you small bites. Every so often, you would meet his gaze, a little twinkle in your eye that wasn’t there before.

It wouldn’t always be like this, and Nick knew he had a long way to go in putting your pieces back together.

But it was a task he knew he would never fail. 

He would have all of you.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

I’m going to go sit in my hobbit hole, drink tea, and wait for Uhtred to come and visit me so he can help me emotionally recover from this masterpiece.

Valhalla Bound

Finan x gender neutral reader

Summary: During the ransacking of Rumcofa, you save Osferth thus exchanging his fate for yours. aka you die and Finan’s reaction to that lol.

A/N: this is my very first attempt at an xreader so apologies if I got the tense or anything wrong. Leave your thoughts in the comments <3

Dedication: for @finanhasmyheart​ , sorry for the angst 💀

Keep reading

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

This is so precious and perfect. Conrad is the perfect boyfriend!

Here is a second one for all the Conrad Hawkins fans out there ☺️

Feedback is always welcome: HATE IS NOT 💞✨

“A Different Kind of Battlefield”

Conrad Hawkins x Female Reader

Warnings - Slight angst, emotional and physical burnout. Happy ending 💕

—————————————————————————

The third cup of coffee I put into my system 2 hours ago was beginning to disappear. Great. Even caffeine is struggling to keep my body going. My mind feels like I am on auto-pilot as it is.

Unfortunately for me, this was just a regular occurrence since Red Rock Mountain Medical made their way onto Chastain grounds. Budget cuts, longer hours and loss of staff are just some of the reasons why I am basically pulling triple shifts.

There isn’t enough nurses to keep this place running like it should. Not that the people higher up the chain care; with their dapper clothing, fancy sports cars and the ability to do whatever they want despite the affect on others.

Scratching at my eyes to force them open, I take a deep breath and continue down the hallway.

Nic passes me and by the look she is giving me I know exactly what is going to come out of her mouth.

I quickly raise my hand and shake my head towards her just as her pager begins to beep.

“I am fine Nic, seriously. Go, your patients need you”

I was in fact not fine, but it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter.

It was incredibly overwhelming, and I needed somewhere quiet. I needed to collect myself, just for five minutes. I quickly found myself in the nearest supply closet. I embraced the darkness and slid down the wall, welcoming the coolness from the floor and forced my head between knees in an effort to control my breathing.

I wasn’t aware of how long I stayed in that position, but I was startled when the door opens swiftly. I scramble from the floor and straighten out my uniform. The door clicked shut smoothly and I look up to see my boyfriend and third year resident, Conrad Hawkins.

He stood there for a moment taking in my dishevelled appearance; the dark circles under my eyes, creased uniform with a coffee stain down the front and the nest forming on top of my head which is currently passing as hair… barely.

“You look like hell” he concludes, his voice low, but soft.

I let out strangled laugh, “Thanks”

Tears of stress and tiredness well up in my eyes and I didn’t have the strength to stop them. Conrad immediately surges forward, catching me as I slide back down the wall of the closet, my body too weak to be currently supporting me.

My head rests in his lap as he hold me tightly. I sob and sob till I couldn’t anymore.

“It’s okay, I’m here, I got you” he repeats these affirmations continually as I finally release the horded emotion that I stored over the last few weeks.

He wipes the tears away from my face, no matter how many times they fall as I clutch onto any part of him that I could reach, desperate for comfort and that feeling of safety he provides.

My body finally relaxes, and I am able to look up to the man holding me. Conrad’s eyes were filled with a mixture of love and sympathy.

My voice is raw, and I struggle to get my next words out.

“Why�� why do they do this to us?”

He leans down to kiss my forehead. I breath him in, before he pulls back to answer.

“It is a broken system; we just have to keep fighting to change it”

Oh, I knew it was a broken system all right, Chastain being one of the worst with situations like former Doctor Lane Hunter and the likes QuoVadis.

‘A different kind of battlefield’ Conrad called it.

“We can do this baby; we can make a change” He whispers as he fiddles with free pieces of my hair.

“I am not saying we can’t but it’s draining, I mean just look at me” My bottom lip trembles once more, threating another onslaught of tears.

“Shh, Shh, it’s going to be just fine. I promise.” Conrad’s grip tightens on me as he cradles me in his lap, swaying back and forth ever so slightly.

I stay there, listening to the sounds of my heart as the rhythm slowly returns back to normal. It was then I realised that I couldn’t fight the sleep I desperately needed anymore.

When I find myself next awake, I am between the plump cotton sheets of my bed… with an unforgiving headache.

I groan and force myself into a sitting position, to see Conrad ready with a glass of water and aspirin. I take them gratefully.

Conrad glides into the right side of the bed, planting a kiss on me before asking how I feel.

I give him a small smile “Better. Thank you”

I lean my forehead against his, we stay there for a moment before he speaks up again.

“Nic helped me get you home. We are both going to Bell in the morning. The hospital needs more nurses.”

I lay back down, cuddling into him. I looked at him with such great admiration and love. I don’t know what I would without him, or Nic for that matter.

“You are a great man Hawkins”

He just laughs wraps his arm around my waist.

“Go back to sleep Y/N. I will be here when you wake up”