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dirtyvulture · 1 year

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Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 2140

Requested by anon: Oh awesome! I'd like to request an abo fic then!

Can I ask for Alpha Natasha x Omega Reader

So, Natasha has always fancied Reader but due to how close Reader is with Steve(hes just a friend. His Alpha insticts just make him very protective for those he cares about) and Natashas inexperience in courting a mate due to that not being a Red Room lesson, she never makes a move.

That all changes at one of Tonys parties though. Steves away on a mission, so when a group of slimy Alphas corner Reader Nat swoops in to save her. They go back to the Alphas room where feelings get admitted and Natasha is able to claim her Omega

I'm sorry if thats too much, got a bit carried away. Hope you like this idea and thanks in advance. Love your work.

AN: Happy ABO April!

Natasha has to look away when Steve puts his arm around your shoulder in a side-hug and you lean into him and laugh at his joke. She can’t even name the things she would give up to take Steve’s place next to you, to have her arm around you and have you laughing at her joke instead. Even though Steve is a close friend of hers, she has always harbored a near-uncontrollable level of jealousy of him because of how close he was to you.

She knows you hardly look at her when she enters a room and the few moments the two of you have had alone, you’re always painfully professional and cordial with her. But at the end of the day, Natasha doesn’t blame you for it. Steve was a better alpha than her, anyway. She didn’t know the first thing about being someone’s alpha, let alone yours, and didn’t think she would be able to satisfy you with her inexperience and hesitancy.

Tony hosts a party that weekend, but Steve is called out last-minute on a mission. You come in alone, looking a little lost without your partner/alpha by your side. Natasha feels like this is her chance to make a move with you, but ultimately, her insecurities win out and she stays by the bar, miserably slamming vodka shots and wondering if she’ll ever be good enough for anyone.

You hadn’t expected to attend Tony’s party solo. Steve was your best friend, surprising you with how well you got along with someone who was old enough to be your grandpa, but he had been nothing but kind and respectful to you. You trusted him with your life and kept no secrets from him, but you didn’t see him as a romantic partner.

There was someone else you wanted, but they always seemed so shy around you, you were beginning to lose hope that anything could ever happen with them.

You find an empty corner in the table and sip a glass of wine, not interested in casual socialization with anyone tonight. You weren’t even sure why you still came when Steve texted you that he was being called to work, but you felt it would be rude to not show up with a legitimate excuse.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You look up as a man slides into the seat across from you. His hair is greasy with gel and his eyes tell you that he’s already a few drinks into the night. There are two friends that stand next to your table, effectively preventing you from just getting up and excusing yourself. You feel your heartbeat pound faster in your chest.

“Where’s your alpha?” the greasy-haired man asks.

“My what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with us now.” The man laughs, prompting his friends to do the same. You can’t remember ever seeing any of them before, but Tony invites anyone that knows his name, so you can’t narrow down where they might’ve come from at all.

“So you thought you’d come to Stark’s party in hopes that another alpha would come by and claim you?” the man snickers.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you assert, standing up as the man’s two friends step towards you menacingly.

“Not yet,” the man says. “But you know what would be better than being claimed by one alpha? How about three?” He smiles predatorily.

“Get away from me right now,” you say, your fingers closing tightly around the stem of your wine glass in case you need to smash it over one of their heads.

“Oh, we love a fighter,” the man says. “I hope it’s not just an act--”

“Hey.”

A familiar voice enters the conversation, and you almost melt with relief when you see Natasha Romanoff shove her way between the man’s two friends and offer you her hand.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. Come on.”

You don’t question where she’s going to take you, just eager to get away from these three creepy alphas.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you taking--” the man interrupts.

“Shut it,” Natasha warns. “You’re all done here. Now get out before I have my friends escort you out.”

The man looks like he wants to protest, but when he sees Clint and Bruce eyeing them from the corner of the room, he grabs onto his buddies and pushes them towards the exit.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Natasha asks, taking you to the bar and ordering you a glass of water.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for that. You didn’t have to,” you say, sipping your water with trembling hands.

“I wasn’t going to just stand there and watch them talk to you like that,” Natasha says, and you’re pretty sure this is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with her. The nerves of talking to your crush and what had just happened start to get to you and you feel yourself begin to sweat under your clothes.

Natasha looks at you with concern. “Y/N, are you--”

“Can we go back upstairs? If you’re okay leaving the party early, that is,” you ask.

She doesn’t hesitate. “Sure.”

You don’t miss the way Natasha keeps her hand on your back as she follows you to the elevators and you both go up to the penthouse where the suites are located. But instead of going to your room, your feet take you to Natasha’s, and she doesn’t protest as you sit down on her bed and make yourself comfortable. Her scent, reminding you of the woods with a hint of vanilla, fills the entire room and you instinctively relax, like sinking into a hot tub.

Natasha sits next to you, her scent surrounding her like a cloud, and you can barely focus when she hands you a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” you finally say. “Not just for the water, but also what you did at the party.”

Natasha shrugs. “Steve wouldn’t have been happy if something happened to his omega.”

Her words catch you off guard. “Steve’s omega?” you repeat.

Natasha looks at you. “Wait, are you not--”

“Steve and I are just friends,” you clarify, your heart deflating at the thought that Natasha mistook your close friendship for an actual relationship.

“You two seem very close.”

“We are, but not like that,” you say.

“Oh.” Now Natasha feels dumb.

“I had my eye on another alpha for a while,” you admit, surprising yourself with your boldness. “But I’m not sure if they’d ever make a move on me.”

It takes Natasha a moment, but when she makes the realization, she gasps audibly and stares at you with wide eyes.

“M-Me?” she stammers, unable to believe that you actually want her.

You nod, biting your lip as you look at her. The overwhelming scent of her room is embarrassingly enough to get you going and you feel the wetness pooling between your legs uncomfortably.

“Do you want me?” you ask, leaning forward until your heads are inches apart. You feel her hot breath on your lips and the urge to dive forward and kiss her.

“Since the moment I saw you,” Natasha whispers, surprising herself by taking initiative and closing the distance between you two. Her lips are soft and her lip gloss tastes like coconut. Natasha presses towards you eagerly, her hands closing around your shoulders and gently pressing you to lie down on her bed. “Is this okay?” she asks, now hovering over you.

You swear you’re already gushing at the sight of Natasha on top of you like this. “It’s more than okay,” you assure, tangling your hands in her silky red hair and pulling her in for another kiss.

Natasha practically devours you and you feel yourself ache with an emptiness you know only she can fill. You open your legs to invite Natasha to lie between them and when you feel the heat of her clothed bulge against your center, you can’t even think anymore.

All you want is Natasha buried deep inside of you, filling with her cum, and claiming you as her omega.

You break away from the heavy kisses long enough to remove your clothing and Natasha watches you for a moment before scrambling to remove her own. You moan when you touch your panties and realize how soaked through they are and you know Natasha can smell it by the way her eyes widen.

“Look what you’ve done to me, baby,” you say. “I’m soaking for you.”

“So desperate for me, huh?” Natasha stumbles a little over the dirty talk, but you find it endearing. She pulls down her boxers, her hard cock springing out at an impressive length, the tip red and leaking pre-cum. “Lie back, baby,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”

Natasha takes her place back on top of you, teasing you by running her cock through your slicked folds. She’s never claimed an omega before and is worried about releasing too early and not being able to satisfy you.

“Fuck, baby, just put it in already,” you beg, the emptiness between your legs almost painful now.

Natasha knows that she won’t be able to deny you much longer. Her cock is throbbing so hard she can’t think of anything else, and after taking your hips in her hands, she lines herself up with your entrance and pushes into you.

Both of you moan at the same time. Natasha is the biggest you’ve ever taken, and while the stretch burns at first, you feel so satisfyingly full you never want her to pull out. You feel complete with her inside of you and when she starts to rock her hips slowly, you claw down her back and hold onto her butt, guiding her to thrust harder.

“Yes, Nat, just like that,” you pant, a moan ripping out of your throat every time her cock rubs through your clenching walls.

“You feel amazing,” Natasha says, her voice tight as she tries not to explode just yet. The way your pussy grips onto her is unlike anything she’s ever experienced and it’s like your body was made just to fit her. “Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N.”

“You do, too. Don’t stop,” you say, listening to the headboard of the bed slam against the wall with every thrust.

Natasha lowers her head to kiss you passionately, looping her arms under yours to pull you into her so she can penetrate you even deeper. Your pussy spasms around her and she moans against your lips, pistoning her hips harder.

“Mine. You’re all mine,” she growls.

“All yours when you knot me,” you remind her, feeling the swelling at the base of her cock when she pushes her entire length into you. As full as you already feel, you can’t wait for her to knot you and pump her seed into you until your stomach swells.

“Are you sure?” Natasha pants, slowing her thrusts to control her release. "Are you sure you want this, Y/N?”

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” you admit.

It’s the only thing Natasha’s ever wanted, too. To claim you and to be able to call you her omega.

“Okay.” She knows she won’t last much longer and the base of her cock begins to swell. Her thrust become sloppier and you widen your legs so she has room to bury herself all the way. “Oh fuck, Y/N. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum...”

“Make me yours, Nat,” you beg, digging your nails into her shoulders until you’re sure you’ll draw blood.

With one final thrust that shakes your entire body, Natasha pushes her knot past your entrance and releases her load inside of you. The warmth that fills you is indescribable, and you throw your head back with a moan as Natasha’s cock continues to pulse, shooting ropes of cum deep into your womb. The pressure and fullness is too much and you find your own release at the same time, craning your neck up to clamp your teeth around Natasha’s collarbone and claiming her as she knots you.

Natasha howls at the sting and the delight at you marking her. When she finally stops cumming, she relaxes her weight on top of you and nuzzles your cheek gently. You purr in response, happy to be full of cum and claimed by your alpha.

The two of you lie like that for a long time, until Natasha’s knot deflates and she can pull out, spilling most of her seed onto the bedsheets. You cling to her, feeling the most satisfied and happy you had ever been in your life.

“Thank you, my alpha,” you whisper, kissing the bite mark on her chest.

“I love you, my omega.”

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loulouwrites · 21 days

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HELLISH . AFLIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie's secretary makes the decision to marry, it's a shame her prospective husbands seem to disappear after one meeting warnings: angst, violence, swearing, jealousy, threats, borderline stalking honestly, muderous thoughts, unedited, unrequited love word count: 3.5k a/n: i've been away for a while bc life is hard. i wanted to write a little alfie story not related to the 'home series' and came up with whatever this is so i hope you enjoy. i'm working on a taglist, so if you would like to be included, lmk <3 also lmk if you'd like a part 2 to this, i've already cooked something up!

She had known Alfie Solomons for about three years, and they had been friends since they had met.

Two years into their strange friendship, she had been sacked from her job as a secretary for an Italian businessman, he didn't say why he suddenly decided he didn't require her services, but they both knew. Tensions were rising between the Jewish quarter and Italian quarter in Camden, and everybody was sticking to their own side of town.

When she had told Alfie about it, he had offered her a job immediately - the rising tensions were partly his fault anyways.

Her mother had not been happy when her daughter came home with news she would be working for Alfie Solomons, but when she saw the stack of notes Mr Solomons had given as a 'pay advance', she warmed to the idea.

It was easy work. He had his men for the nitty-gritty stuff, she merely typed up Alfie's ramblings and sent threatening telegrams to people - it was easier than any legitimate job she had ever had, and it paid better, too.

She would often have lunch with Ollie, Alfie's second in command if you wanted to call him that. She was allowed a longer lunch than he was, Ollie wasn't supposed to have a lunch break at all, but if she were talking to him, it was rare they would be interrupted, unless there was an urgent matter to attend to.

Ollie was a good gossip, better than any of the other men in the bakery, Alfie excluded. But, unlike Alfie, Ollie had no interest in her, sexually or romantically, so she enjoyed the time she could spend talking to him, discussing rumours or chatting about their lives outside of work without it turning into something else within minutes.

"Do you think he'll let me leave an hour early?" She asked from where she was perched on the man's desk, swinging her feet back and forth.

"He'd let you leave now if you asked," Ollie replied, rolling his eyes at the girl. It was true, Alfie would probably still pay her if she didn't show up, he'd let her release a group of pigs in his office if she wanted to.

"He's in a mood, though."

"He's always in a mood."

"Not as bad as this," she pointed to their boss' office, where the blinds were pulled up, showing his figure stomping around the small room, throwing pieces of paper and trinkets onto the ground.

"Fuck," she sighed as a loud crash was heard, though they couldn't see what had bared the brunt of the man's rage from their seats.

"Maybe reschedule?" Ollie offered, his eyes not leaving the glass window of Alfie's office.

"I'm just going to ask him," she planted her feet on the ground, ignoring Ollie's protests. "The worst he can do is say no," she shrugged, walking towards the office door.

"That is not the worst he can do," he called after her in an urgent whisper.

She didn't knock when she entered, she never had, and she wasn't about to start now.

A book flew past her face when she stepped inside, and she quickly stepped to the side, it hitting the wall behind her and falling to the floor.

"What did...that Russian book ever do to you?" She asked, and his head snapped up to look at her, his eyes wide.

"Shit, sorry 'bout that, love," he sighed, wiping a hand over his face but she waved him off, moving to sit in one of the chairs at his desk.

"Bad day?"

"Better now," he winked at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. "What do you want?"

"I want to leave an hour early," she offered him a wary smile, clasping her hands together pleadingly.

"You fuckin' what?"

"Please, Alfie-" she started, but he was up from his seat before she could finish her sentence, pacing up and down the cramped office with his hands on his hips. "It's only an hour, and I'm not doing anything anyway."

"You're not doing anything?" his eyebrows raised as he turned to face her. "You're really admitting that to your boss?"

"Please, Alfie," she stood up, taking a few steps towards him. "I never ask you for anything."

She scowled at the obnoxious laugh he let out in response.

"Never ask me for anything?" his voice raised an octave to mock her. "A pay advance that you still haven't paid back," he help up a finger as he counted. "A weekday off so you can go shopping when it's less crowded, a bonus so you can get your mum a birthday present, a day off when your fucking cat died," he stepped towards her. "Asking me to come to it's fucking funeral."

"You said it was a lovely service," she placed a hand on her chest in offense.

"You know what?" he sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his face. "Just fuck off, yeah?"

"Really?" She smiled, clapping her hands.

"But you will come in an hour early tomorrow to make up for it, or so help me God, I will come to your house and drag you here myself."

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it.

"Thank you, Alfie." She reached to place a kiss on his cheek, not taking offense when he reached to wipe his cheek when she pulled away, already opening the door to leave. "I'll see you bright an early tomorrow."

She couldn't make out what he grumbled after her.

Alfie waited until she had left the bakery to slink out of his office, approaching Ollie's desk, and tapping on it with his knuckles.

"Why'd she want to leave early?" he asked his assistant, not missing the way the younger man sunk down in his seat.

"I don't want to tell you," Ollie replied, sheepishly.

"Ollie," Alfie warned.

"She's meeting up with someone?"

"Ollie."

"A man. She's meeting up with a man, her mum's friend's son or something. Think she's looking to settle down, you know?"

Alfie hummed, a hand coming up to rub his beard. "Interesting," he mumbled, walking back to his office, landing a smack to Ollie's head as he passed.

Her suitor had been a perfect gentleman. Jacob had taken her to a fancy club in a nicer part of London, had bought her dinner and drinks without grumbling about the prices, and had dropped her off at home with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to take her out again the following weekend.

She hadn't thought a man her mother had set her up with would be particularly charming, but she had been proven wrong, the stupid smile she wore on her face all week being proof of that.

She had been thinking of settling down for a while. All of her childhood friends were married with several children at this point, and she didn't miss the sympathetic looks they would give her when she told them she was still unmarried, still childless, and still working.

Marriage was always something she thought would come naturally -as it seemed to do with everyone else around her - but years rolled by and she was still no closer to the life that had seemed so easily achievable when she was young. So, she had decided to take matters in her own hands, informing her mother and everyone else she could that she was ready to marry, and asking them to let her know if they knew a boy they thought would be a good match.

And, she thought she had found the good match on her first try, but when the week after her date rolled on, and there was no word from Jacob, she realised how stupid she had been.

She had been moodier than ever that week, stomping around the bakery with a scowl on her face, smacking the keys of her typewriter harder than necessary, and barely speaking two words to whoever approached her.

She was not dealing with the rejection well.

So, when a handsome worker - who she recalled was named James -- passed her desk, offering a confident smile as he did, she wasted no time.

She wandered into Alfie's office with her hands clasped behind her back, swaying slightly as she waited for him to look up from the papers on his desk.

"What?" He asked, still reading the scribbles on the page.

"Didn't know you'd taken new people on," she shrugged nonchalantly, keeping her tone light and unbothered.

"And? What about it?"

"I don't know," she shrugged again, stepping further into his office. "Just a lot of new faces around here,"

Alfie groaned, dropping the papers from his hand and removing the glasses he wore from his face. "Since when do you care about new faces?"

"I don't," she laughed defensively. "I was just wondering about one of them, is all."

"You were just wondering about one of them," Alfie's eyebrows rose, and he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "What were you wondering about?"

"I mean...maybe some background..."

"Like what? His favourite fucking book? The fuck you expect me to know?"

"I was just wondering, that's all," she held her hands up in defense, and her boss' eyes squinted at her words.

"I thought you were already seein' someone, that is why you left early a couple weeks ago, ain't it?"

"Who the fuck told you that?"

"Don't matter," Alfie offered her a smile. "Didn't work out or something..."

"No, it didn't," she huffed. "So...about James..." she trailed off, waiting for Alfie to step in, but he merely offered her a blank look. "Alfie," she whined, stomping her foot against the floor."

"Don't know 'im. Sorry, love," he waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine," she spun on her heel, storming out of his office. "I'll find out myself."

James was lovely. She had 'bumped' into him when she was leaving, and it hadn't taken him long to offer to take her out for drinks when he finished his shift, which she had accepted with a grateful smile.

He had met her outside of the local pub near the 'bakery', it wasn't a particularly nice establishment, but the lager was cheap, and she supposed he didn't have the money to spend in a fancy club like Jacob had - not with the pittance she was sure Alfie was paying him.

He was funny, and quite respectful in comparison with some of his colleagues. He had asked her questions about her interests, had shared his own, and she was delighted that they seemed to have quite a bit in common.

They had ended the night at her door, with chaste kiss, and another promise to go out again the following week, and she had closed the door with a grin on her face.

"See you at work tomorrow," he had said as he walked away.

When she arrived to work the next morning, the same grin still on her face, she couldn't stop her eyes scanning the floor as she walked to her desk, desperately trying to seek out James, but, when she couldn't find him, she had shrugged it off.

Maybe he was ill or something.

It was now Thursday. Her date with James had been on Monday, and there had been no sign of him ever since.

It was hard not wonder, had something bad happed to him? Had he been hiding every time he saw her walking through the distillery? Had he been so repulsed by her that he had quit his job just to avoid seeing her again?

The thoughts had consumed her all week, and they had affected her mood significantly. Unlike with Jacob, where she had been an angry force at work, she was now forlorn, barely speaking to anybody, and zoning out of conversations with a vacant look on her face.

It was starting to worry her boss, who spent longer than appropriate watching her from his office window.

He had called her into the office that afternoon, watching as she walked seemingly in a daze, her eyes were duller, and he face appeared more sunken.

She didn't say anything when she took a seat at his desk, nor did she meet his eyes when he said her name.

"You alright?" he had asked, his tone more concerned than he wanted it to be.

"Wonderful," she replied, her voice flat, fiddling with a thread on her skirt.

"You've been wandering 'round like a ghost for the past week, love. What's goin' on with ya? Please don't tell me another fucking cat died."

She huffed a laugh that was clearly fake, still fiddling with the thread when she responded. "I think I'm unmarriable, Alfie."

Alfie's shoulder's straightened at her words, leaning his arms on his desk, he studied her face, watching as she blinked away the tears that were beginning to pool in her eyes. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Two men in two weeks, Alfie. I have gone out with two men in two weeks and they have both disappeared...literally disappeared, I haven't seen them since."

Her eyes lifted from her dress to meet his, and Alfie was struck by how sad she looked. He had never thought she would be this upset by a couple of boys not getting back to her after one night.

"That's silly, love," he sighed. "It don't mean nothin'"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "it does."

He considered telling her in that moment, he truly did. A better man would have, would have confessed right then and there.

A better man would have told her that they had cornered Jacob after he had dropped her off at her door. How he had almost certainly broken the young man's nose before he had a chance to blink, how he had had his men hold the boy by the shoulders while he whispered a warning in his ear.

"Stay away from her."

He really should have told her that he had turned up at James' shitty flat on Monday night, waiting for the man to return from his date with her. That his worker's body had began to shake when he saw his boss leaning against his front door, his arms crossed against his chest and a cold look in his eye.

"Have to let you go, son," Alfie had said. "A worker that is more concerned about fucking my secretary isn't one I want workin' with me."

James had begun to splutter a reply, but Alfie was already heading for the stairs.

"Best you stay away from her, yeah?"

It hadn't been a question.

He really should have told her, but he didn't. Instead, he had sighed and rose from his seat, moving into the empty chair beside her.

"You ain't unmarriable, woman," he told her, patting her shoulder. "You just chose two fuckin' idiots."

"Whatever you say, Alfie," she said, standing up and walking out of the office without another word.

He should have confessed, but he didn't. He did, however, promise himself he would not get involved in her personal life anymore. The next man she met, would not have to face a threat from Alfie Solomons.

She had been leaving her home to go to work when she had ran into Elijah on the street. He had chased after her, holding an envelope in his hands, waving it frantically when she finally turned around when she heard the stranger's voice calling after her.

"I think you dropped this," he handed her the envelope, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she took it from his hands.

"Oh, thank you," she laughed. "My boss would have murdered me if I lost it."

He had laughed at her words, not realising she wasn't exactly joking about her boss.

"I'm Elijah," he held out a hand, which she took with a smile.

"He's really nice, Ollie," her words were muffled as they travelled into Alfie's office, and he had to press his ear closer to the door to be able to hear her clearly. "A real gentleman."

'A real gentleman.'

Alfie rolled his eyes, 'gentleman' was just another word for a soft prick.

"We're going out again tonight," she told her friend. "Said he has a surprise for me."

"What do you think it is?" Ollie asked her, and Alfie rolled his eyes again. Ollie was worse than a fucking twelve year old girl.

"I mean we've been seeing each other for a while, he's met my family, I've met his..." she trailed off, and Ollie's gasp was clear as day from where Alfie was standing.

"You think he's going to propose?"

And just like that, Alfie's heart dropped to his stomach. He tore his ear from the wall, storming back to his desk, dropping to the seat with a heavy thud.

Of course Elijah was going to propose, of fucking course. She had been seeing him for the better part of four months, and she spent every waking minute talking about the nice doctor, it was natural that his was how it was going to progress.

He regretted not cornering Elijah on is way to work the moment she had mentioned his name, regretted not giving him the same treatment he gave the two men that came before him. He should have, should have twisted the man's arm behind his back until he was crying like a little girl, should have had his men hold him down while he kicked him in his ribs until blood came out of his mouth, he should have put the barrel of his gun to his head an pulled the trigger.

But to what end?

She was a good girl. She wanted to get married, have a few children and take care of the house while her husband was at work.

Alfie couldn't offer her that.

Everything he could offer her, he already had. He had given her protection, a stable income, and some form of friendship. He could never give her what she truly craved. He knew that, no matter his feelings for her - feelings he didn't understand himself - he couldn't give her the life she deserved.

And that thought made him sick.

The room was too hot for him to sit in any longer. Alfie pushed through the crowd of people, shoving them harder than necessary until he reached the door, the sound of music and laughter fading as the heavy door closed behind him.

He took a seat on a damp wooden bench, his head dropping in his hands.

It had been a lovely ceremony, a bit small, and a bit cheap for his tastes, but she had managed to make it lovely anyways.

He stood when she entered, her parents on either side of her, walking her to the end of the aisle.

She didn't spare Alfie a glance, too busy looking ahead - looking at him. The bitterness twisted in his stomach and it took all the self control he possessed to keep a neutral look on his face.

Elijah met her at the end of the aisle, taking her hand and helping her up the little steps, a sickening smile on his face.

Alfie didn't miss the sympathetic glance Ollie, who was beside him, threw him.

"Not enjoying the party?" her voice was as sweet as anything, full of happiness.

"Weddings ain't really my thing, love," he offered her a smile, it dropping as quickly as it came.

"But this isn't just any wedding, Alfie," she said, taking a seat next to him. "It's mine, you should be happy."

"Why is that?"

"You've finally gotten rid of me," she laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You don't have to pay me to sit around and do nothing all day, should save you a bit of money."

Alfie didn't laugh with her, a bitter smile on his face as he looked down at his hands.

"Oh don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?" her voice held nothing but humour and Alfie wanted to scream at her.

How can you be so blind?

Can't you see I love you?

"Nah, I'm just upset it took this long," he said eventually, rising from his seat, patting her on the shoulder as did. "I'm gonna head out, but congratulations, love. You look very beautiful."

Her eyes softened at his words, her smile widening from where she was sat, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.

He didn't have time to react when she shot up from her seat, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her.

"You're the best friend I could have asked for, Alfie," she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, pulling her arms away from his shoulders and taking a step back. "Fuck off, now. You're missing your own wedding you stupid woman."

She laughed, nodding her head and disappearing back into the building before Alfie could blink, leaving him frozen in place, the bitterness that once consumed him being replaced by what felt like an all-encompassing sadness.

'The best friend I could have asked for."

What a fucking joke that was.

#alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x oc

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goodnightmemes · 6 months

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MOCKINGJAY - PART ONE (2014) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Start simple. Start with what you know is true. ❜

❛ I wish she was dead. I wish they were all dead and we were, too. ❜

❛ Please know how welcome you are. I hope you'll find some comfort with us. ❜

❛ I apologize. I wish you had more time to recover, but unfortunately, we don't have that luxury. ❜

❛ [name] was the one who was supposed to live. ❜

❛ This revolution is about everyone. It's about all of us. And we need a voice. ❜

❛ No one else can do this but her. ❜

❛ Obviously, we need to make it personal. Remind her who the real enemy is. ❜

❛ She can't handle it. The Games destroyed her. ❜

❛ People don't always show up the way you want them to. ❜

❛ I can't believe you're going through with this. You can say "no." ❜

❛ I won't say "rebels." These are senseless acts of defiance. And I won't legitimize them. ❜

❛ Never let them see you bleed. ❜

❛ To those who ignore the warnings of history, prepare to pay the ultimate price. ❜

❛ To murder innocent people, that costs everything that you are. ❜

❛ No, we were not part of any rebel plan. We had no idea what was going on. ❜

❛ I'm sorry. It's just a nightmare. ❜

❛ Will you stay with me? ❜

❛ Tell me what's happening. I'm good at keeping secrets. ❜

❛ If you want something, you just have to ask. ❜

❛ This is worth the risk. She's worth the risk. ❜

❛ You're not a prisoner. ❜

❛ If you wanna play a prisoner of war, fine. Stay here and rot. ❜

❛ The thing with revolutions, they're a tender flame. They need to be nurtured with a little kindling and warmth. ❜

❛ You know what could use a revolution? That hair. ❜

❛ I never knew anyplace could be so strict. ❜

❛ You know, everything old can be made new again. ❜

❛ Everyone's either gonna wanna kiss you, kill you, or be you. ❜

❛ And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies. ❜

❛ This how you greet an old friend? ❜

❛ Maybe I don't recognize you sober. ❜

❛ You'll never be able to guarantee my safety. I wanna go. ❜

❛ This has gotta be fast. In and out. ❜

❛ Any hope you can give them, it's worth it. ❜

❛ I can't help them. ❜

❛ You here to fight with us? ❜

❛ If you think for one second that the Capitol will ever treat us fairly you are lying to yourselves. ❜

❛ We know who they are and what they do. This is what they do! And we must fight back. ❜

❛ Fire is catching. And if we burn, you burn with us! ❜

❛ There is no progress without compromise. No victory without sacrifice. ❜

❛ Together, we will become an alliance to be reckoned with. ❜

❛ You don't like hearing a fight song at a funeral? ❜

❛ He's changed so much already. What are they doing to him? ❜

❛ You must love her very much to be able to forgive her. ❜

❛ And ask yourself, can you trust the people you're working with? Do you know what they really want? ❜

❛ I would never say what he just said. Not if they tortured me. Not with a gun to my head. ❜

❛ 'Cause I'm in pain. That's the only way that I can get your attention. ❜

❛ Little on the nose, but, of course, so is war. ❜

❛ What have they done to you? ❜

❛ Think about it. How will this end? What will be left? No one can survive this. ❜

❛ We have to get him out before they kill him. ❜

❛ I wasn't gonna leave him behind. I couldn't live with myself. ❜

❛ Talk about something. Anything. ❜

❛ You love him. I'm not saying in what way. Maybe you don't even know yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it. ❜

❛ I drag myself outta nightmares and there's no relief in waking up. ❜

❛ Takes ten times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart. ❜

❛ He's punishing [name] to punish me. ❜

❛ I suppose you're just gonna hide down here forever? ❜

❛ You know, you're the only real friend I have down here. ❜

❛ To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets. ❜

❛ Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake. ❜

❛ I don't imagine you're calling to thank me for the roses. ❜

❛ I never asked for this. ❜

❛ Please, just let him go. I will disappear. You will never have to see me ever again. ❜

❛ You couldn't run from this... any more than you could have run from the Games. ❜

❛ Please. You've won. You've already beaten me. Release [name]. And take me instead. ❜

❛ We're long past the opportunity for noble sacrifice. ❜

❛ I've always kept my promises, haven't I? ❜

❛ I doubt you know what honesty is anymore. ❜

❛ It's the things we love most that destroy us. ❜

❛ It's the worst torture in the world. Waiting, when you know there's nothing you can do. ❜

❛ Whatever strength, courage, madness, keeps us going, you find it, at times like these. You have it. It's what's kept you alive all this time. And it won't fail you now. ❜

❛ They let us go. ❜

❛ They turned him into a weapon. To kill you. ❜

❛ The fear is the most difficult thing to overcome. We're hardwired to remember fear best. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starter meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #rp prompt #rp memes #inbox meme #sentence meme #*movie #*thg

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atopvisenyashill · 22 days

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I read through your Jonsa meta linked in your bio and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to really love Jonsa but the part where you say J*nerys evidence is weak sauce like I do like the ship but I only want it if it doesn’t go like the show and it also isn’t just some boring king and queen of the seven kingdoms crap but do think what people call foreshadowing for the ship is no stronger than Jonsa foreshadowing but I get dog piled by other J*nerys shippers for admitting this. I do think some common evidence for Jonsa is questionable. Like that GRRM was originally going to have Janos be hung until someone ELSE pointed out that Jon would probably do it the northern way and behead him, or that lady Ashford didn’t end up with the Targaryen suitor. But even still I don’t think that the evidence for J*nerys is strong. Like sorry I don’t think Dany being called bride of fire implies she’ll marry Jon I think she already is the bride of fire. I used to hate Jonsa but I realized that I feel very neutral to it. What I hate is the thought of a love triangle with Jon, Dany, and Sansa. The idea of Dany going mad because she loves Jon but Jon loves Sansa is just so tired and boring and sexist. I understand that a lot of the spite towards J*nerys fans is earned because they can be just as spiteful but my first introductions to Jonsa were in the context of this love triangle and the attitude was so spiteful that it put a bad taste in my mouth for years. But even when I did hate it I felt like other J*nerys fans were being hypocritical when they made of Jonsas for their theories. And I got shat on and accused of being a Jonsa myself for saying so. Like it’s eyebrow raising that George revised his Stark family tree to include a marriage between a Jonnel and a Sansa. Regardless of what George originally wrote, Jon beheading Janos is compelling. I do see the vision even it’s not for me. Jon and Dany don’t know each other exist. I think the only thing that really gives J*nerys leverage is that they loved each other in the show and I’ve always had a hard time believing that George actually gave D&D like two plot points and turned them loose to do literally whatever they could come up with. If the show didn’t exist, you’d be hard pressed to convince me there was a viable chance J*nerys would happen and I really just hate the animosity between Jonsa and J*nerys shippers

I’m gonna take this point by point bc it’s kind of a lot and I want to address it all!!

do think what people call foreshadowing for the ship is no stronger than Jonsa foreshadowing but I get dog piled by other J*nerys shippers for admitting this.

LISTEN i’m glad you agree lmaoooo because my number one bitter hater issue re: the ship war IS that imo the “evidence” for both is kinda opaque, but only one is treated as being legitimate fan analysis. like, people will call sansa’s ghost wolf a reach but dany hearing the lonely wolf is full proof even tho this is the exact same thing. or the entire hullabaloo around how when you use the ashford tourney theory to be about Not Jonsa it's valid analysis but when it is about Jonsa then that's just pushing your ship. it’s the silliness of the argument that drives me crazy, that one take is considered “just starting a ship war” and one is the “proper” reading of the text. we don't know who is properly reading the text because we don't have the entire text yet!!!

I do think some common evidence for Jonsa is questionable. Like that GRRM was originally going to have Janos be hung until someone ELSE pointed out that Jon would probably do it the northern way and behead him, or that lady Ashford didn’t end up with the Targaryen suitor.

WAIT OKAY i'm not trying to convert you here lmao, merely explaining my reasoning for those because I know I talk about the Jason/Ashford thing a lot specifically so - the janos slynt thing for me is less the specificity that jon cuts his head off and more that sansa wishes for someone to kill janos for his hand in ned’s death and jon, without any knowledge of what janos did or how it affected sansa, sees straight to the sort of person janos is and executes him. more so about the idea that sansa is praying for a hero only for the hero to be the bastard brother she had dismissed, the only brother left to her now (or so she thinks). it's about the little ~invisible thread~ tying them together even when they're unaware of it.

as for the ashford tourney theory, i actually do agree that people put a little too much stock in the last targaryen suitor aspect of it BUT. EYE personally have been on that "it's hinting towards brienne" train literally since I heard it, and you can see that in the posts I've made about it, that I think it's about dunk/brienne interrupting the tourney to save sansa - it's just that part of saving sansa includes bringing her to her dark haired targaryen brother-cousin. especially bc imo valarr does feature heavily enough in the original dunk adventure, with his short scene after Baelor is killed, and how both valarr and jon have a lot of issues surrounding not measuring up to The Perfect Heir (baelor/robb), and being known for being kinda prickly, and the whole Doomed By The Narrative aspect of their characters, and this isn't something that valarr parallels with the other targaryen boy, aegon/young griff. BUT also I just think the whole convo surrounding this theory is annoying tbh alsdjf I think there are three concrete avenues it could go down (jon, aegon, or brienne, or some combo of the three even) and I find it. frustrating that this theory started out as a {redacted} theory that is clearly meant to push A Specific Ship And Reading Of The Text but if you apply the theory to literally anyone else, you get accused of doing just that. like are we not all just pushing A Specific Reading (aka OUR OWN READING) Of The Text here??

But even still I don’t think that the evidence for J*nerys is strong. Like sorry I don’t think Dany being called bride of fire implies she’ll marry Jon I think she already is the bride of fire. I used to hate Jonsa but I realized that I feel very neutral to it. What I hate is the thought of a love triangle with Jon, Dany, and Sansa. The idea of Dany going mad because she loves Jon but Jon loves Sansa is just so tired and boring and sexist.

NO YEAH. it's the same with the "blue rose" thing like.....the blue rose/bael the bard story isn't a happy one? "sweet smelling" is often used in this series as a mask for a deadly, poisonous center. I think "bride of fire" is a callback to catelyn's "wedded to his war" more than anything, that like you say, dany is already the bride of fire, she chose the fire when she burned mmd and walked into the pyre, and i kind of bristle at the idea that her being the bride of fire is tied to whatever man she's fucking. the point is that she is foregoing being the bride of a man for being the bride of fire to me!! and also VALID i don't like the love triangle angle, i don't like love triangles because i think they're usually so lopsided where you're clearly supposed to pick a specific leg of the triangle, and i just HATE the idea that either dany or sansa or jon's stories are heading to a love triangle because it's not particularly compelling to me that they're fighting over the same stupid boy (i can call him stupid, he's my son). especially as you say, the idea that dany might turn on jon because she wants his love and he won't give it - bleh. annoying, tired, been done a million times. this is why i'm also not overly fond of the idea of him being the one to kill her (but i like the idea of him taking the fall for it regardless).

I understand that a lot of the spite towards J*nerys fans is earned because they can be just as spiteful but my first introductions to Jonsa were in the context of this love triangle and the attitude was so spiteful that it put a bad taste in my mouth for years. But even when I did hate it I felt like other J*nerys fans were being hypocritical when they made of Jonsas for their theories. And I got shat on and accused of being a Jonsa myself for saying so. Like it’s eyebrow raising that George revised his Stark family tree to include a marriage between a Jonnel and a Sansa. Regardless of what George originally wrote, Jon beheading Janos is compelling. I do see the vision even it’s not for me. Jon and Dany don’t know each other exist.

i bolded that one line because YES EXACTLY it is very eyebrow raising that he revised the family tree to include that. like WHY. WHAT? imo, if there was a like a Jonos Targaryen who married a Daenerys Targaryen in the targ family tree, EVERYONE would be insisting that's Jonerys proof so I think it's funny when people brush over it. Or like, the fact that it's Jon and Sansa that dream of having children. The fact that it's only Jon and Sansa who are referred to as the blood of Winterfell. There's something here that's being hinted at, and it's compelling! I think I definitely do get being initially turned off because of the ship war - part of my initial, idk, aggressiveness towards dany on the reread was the DEADLY combo of YEARS of watching The ASOIAF{redacted but if you know u know] People dogpile jonsas and sansa stans constantly for literally just writing meta, making theories, like every other goddamn person + growing to just completely hate show!dany and emilia's acting specifically. then as i was rereading i was like oh actually book dany is not only vastly more interesting as a character than show dany's writing or acting could ever be, i also just don't have to let all the targ nation stans completely ruin a character i actually really like.

like this theory specifically by stumpy (which is another post that got dogpiled massively for no goddamn good reason by the asoiaf{redacted} people) about aegon being the sun's son and jon being the mummer's dragon set my brain on fire and made me realize so much of what i hated about dany's character was actually just the wank surrounding her. i'd completely resigned myself to the idea that jonerys was gonna happen for so long and i was so depressed ver it because i thought it was a stupid, shitty ending and i was just going to hate a large part of the ending forever and then i read that and i was like "oh actually maybe there's another option??" like who gives a shit, we're never getting the next books anyway alksjdfl. also FOR THE RECORD i also HATE the idea of a love triangle between those three, and i think i kinda break from a lot of jonsas (tho not all) in that i also don't like the idea of jon killing dany (again, i want it to be arya and for jon to take the fall. if jon is killing anyone, i like the idea of it being drogon much more than dany). like, i don't want any hetero targ fucking here. i think there could be something here in that both dany and jon feel they have to be attracted to each other but in reality are just Not Interested (for a variety of reasons) but i don't actually want them to do the deed at all and I've been firm on that since I was like, 16 lajsflkfd.

I think the only thing that really gives Jnerys leverage is that they loved each other in the show and I’ve always had a hard time believing that George actually gave D&D like two plot points and turned them loose to do literally whatever they could come up with. If the show didn’t exist, you’d be hard pressed to convince me there was a viable chance Jnerys would happen and I really just hate the animosity between Jonsa and J*nerys shippers

WAIT WAIT WAIT THIS IS WHERE SNOWSPEAR COMES IN. I can write more on that, I know i've mentioned it before, but I think that show!Dany got a lot, perhaps even most of Aegon's storyline in the books and that includes a relationship with Jon. I'm not saying they'll straight up fuck on page (george is alas too heterosexual for that) but I do think the vast majority of their story arc in season 7 where Jon is going back and forth with Dany and growing close to her while being wary of her is actually a relationship he'll have with Aegon. I think that makes much more sense thematically and also it doesn't piss me off lmao.

I think in general, they took his plot points and just kinda peppered it throughout the character's actions with no regard for whether it makes sense for that character. Or are just being straight up misleading about what it is they got from him - like their insistence that "hold the door" is from him, for example, I think in actuality here George told them that Hodor will be killed while Bran is warging him and purposefully leaving him behind, and they came up with that dumb ass hold the door -> hodor thing on their own. same for arya killing the night king - EYE think arya tries something against dany, but they gave it jon because they thought it would be more romantic (and they already combined dany and aegon) and went "well arya killing the night king would be sick as fuck, that's basically the same right?" like, i think there's something of what george wrote in there, i just think it's both confusingly folded in and also spread around a lot.

i think i even explained that to my sibling once (who doesn't read the series but does like some of the characters) that I think because they combined so many characters, that they wanted this friction between tyrion and jon, between sansa and dany, but had cut so many story lines and disregarded so many characters, that they just changed up the romance a bit (which we KNOW they do because look what they did to Jeyne W. and the entire Dornish plot).

anyways, yeah the tldr is that ship wars are stupid as shit and it's really hard to not become a hater when a large part of the fandom is constantly discounting your opinion because you ship a thing they don't like, and then claiming YOU are the one egging on the ship war when you are just existing in your goddamn corner. like i don't even use the vs tag half the time specifically because of that shit ya know. i'm not arguing whether my opinion is "right" or not with someone who thinks they're superior and smarter than me just because they think THEIR incest ship is valid but MY incest ship is gross and self projection.

#like first of all if i'm projecting onto a character it's clearly bran. no i don't want to fuck jon snow he's a baby child.#'but he's sixt-' HE'S A BABY CHILD. THAT'S AN INFANT. A LITTLE BOY.#asks #fandom wank #asoiaf wank #anons #ummmmmmmm #anti daenerys stans #idk man idk what everyone filters from me aljdsfks

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rhythmic-idealist · 4 months

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My gender is "if women exist, I am a woman." Like, I've had conversations that lean toward this idea that anyone who identifies with a binary gender believes in and legitimizes the gender binary, and like, that's not what I'm doing I'd say. It's just that I live in a world where we use the word "woman" and my trans sisters are women so clearly I'm existing in a context where we're calling some people women. So yeah, in that context, I really want to be one. If women exist I am one.

Hard to say what that means but I like being the same thing as my friends and family members who are women. Like, I just like affirming that we can be what I am. That isn't a dig at anyone who doesn't—after all, is it mean or bad that I didn't choose to be the same thing as my friends who are men? No, that would be an absurd thing to say. Sorry, that felt important to clarify.

Also, I admit: I think I am to myself internally the same thing. I don’t think that “woman” imposes any boundaries on me or that there’s anything “woman” can’t be. But I have very many friends who identify as specifically not being women, so I’m not going to tell them they are the same thing as me. Okay, if man is something else from woman, then I believe you.

🏳️‍⚧️ My trans friends and partners are the people who have been the kindest about my gender questioning, and the people who I trust most to understand when I start talking gender stuff like this. If any transphobe out there thinks this is some kind of post against the trans agenda they are dead wrong. Thank you to my trans friends and partners. 🏳️‍⚧️

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readingandwritingandreading · 16 days

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Some Hearts ~ Part 3

My Blurb: Sorry for the delay in getting this posted. I had an ovarian cyst rupture and it was not pleasant. The pain meds I have been on for the last week have not been super conducive to writing so if parts of this are wonky, I'm blaming that! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing but my ideas. I do not give permission for my writing to be shared anywhere without my consent.

Summary: Reacher never needed anyone, he was a lone wolf and preferred it that way. But when he finds his mate beaten and bruised one night, she and the rest of the 110th show Reacher the benefits of being in a pack. Fated Mates, Shifter AU

Pairing: Jack Reacher x OFC Morgan Stone

Warnings: There are some darker things in this fic. Morgan is a rape and abuse survivor. Nothing is explicitly detailed but be advised. Your media consumption is your responsibility. This is a fated mates, wolf shifter AU and will contain claming, biting, mating and other wolf pack related things.

Tagging: @pioched | @ashes-writing | @titty-teetee2 | @may85

Add yourself to my taglist HERE

Read First: Some Hearts Masterlist

Also Check Out: Main Masterlist

Rock Hill Village Hospital, New York

Reacher’s eyes don’t leave Morgan but he still senses the surprised looks from his friends. No one called him Jack, not his family when he was young, not his superiors in the military and not his friends now. He had always preferred Reacher but when she had asked for his name he wanted her to call him Jack. He wanted to hear the way it sounded when she said it. Her calling him anything else seemed like it would cause the tugging in his chest to rip open.

He had already inspected the star shaped mark that had burned itself into the skin above his heart, a physical representation of the tether that bound them together. She hadn’t seemed to notice hers but Roscoe had said she was on some high pain killers. If she felt it she probably thought it was part of her other injuries and she hadn’t been awake long enough to see the matching mark on her own chest.

The door clicked close behind him but she didn't seem to notice. She was staring at him, her brown eyes wide, a look of shock and fear on her face. Shock he was expecting, he had delivered the news abruptly, but the fear concerned him.

“My fated mate?” her voice had a slight tremor to it. “How is that possible?”

Reacher shrugged, “O’Donnell tells me you can’t fight the Moon Goddess.”

“No, I mean…” she took a deep breath before continuing, “There was a bonding ceremony. My father made sure it was all legitimate. And after…the claiming…” her good arm wrapped around her torso and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. “There's no way he told anyone he messed it up. It was too important to his dad and mine. He will do whatever it takes to find me. If he found out about you…I can’t drag anyone down with me.” She’s rambling, looking around the room in a panic.

“Morgan” He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, quieting her movements. She looked so small and lost sitting on the bed and the tugging in his chest grew stronger. His wolf was pacing, not liking the anxiety and fear coming off their mate in waves. “I know you’re scared, but this is real.” He lifted his shirt up until his right pec was visible, showing her the mark. “I’m your fated mate, we will sort out whatever that entails but you are mine to protect.”

She studied the mark before shyly peeking down the top of her hospital gown. He knew she saw it when she bit her lip and slowly met his eyes again. “You don’t even know me,” There was still a slight tremor in her voice but she didn’t look like she was ready to bolt anymore.

“I know you’re brave and you’re smart. I served in the army for 13 years and there weren’t many that would do what you did, especially without a wolf. Going two weeks undetected while big men hunt you down. I'd like to get to know you more but right now you should rest.” He pulled the blanket over her legs and moved back to the chair beside her bed while she laid back.

She looked like she wanted to protest but a yawn hit her as soon as she laid her head on the pillow. He eased himself back into the chair beside her bed and within minutes her breathing evened out and she was asleep again.

He watched her for a while, thinking about the story she had told and her clear fear of being discovered by the other pack. A soft knock drew his attention to the door where Neagley had poked her head through and she nodded for him to follow her.

Once in the hallway she handed him a folder, “Everything Sanchez and Orozco have found so far. Finlay is going to do some digging also. Her story checks out, there's an article about the ceremony, even some pictures.” She pointed him to a page that looked like a scan of a newspaper. There was Morgan in a fancy green dress, she was smiling but it looked forced and didn’t reach her eyes. The man who stood next to her was slim but athletic looking. He had a square jaw and was smirking at the camera, his arm locked firmly around Morgan.

“What about her escape?” Reacher flipped through the file, noting her birthday from her passport.

“There hasn’t been a single mention of her since the article about the ceremony. Sanchez said it looks like they are playing it close to their chest. The Kliner pack is making it seem like they are on their honeymoon and that’s why no one has seen them.” She raised an eyebrow when Reacher clenched his fist. “You ok big guy? Emotions aren’t really your thing.”

Reacher closed the folder before looking at his friend. “She’s been through alot, and fate shackled her with me. Hardly seems fair to her.” He paused, “Thank you for the information, I don’t want to take up more of your resources than I already have.”

Neagley snorted, folding her arms across her chest. “You can pretend all you want that you aren’t a part of this pack Racher. But this is your home, and we are your family. Which makes that little wolf in there our family also.” She nodded towards Morgan’s room. “We protect our family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s real, Franz witnessed the whole thing.” I jumped at the sound of Charlie’s voice echoing in the little bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, just have to make sure you didn’t black out on us, plus Reacher’s getting antsy out there.

I rolled my eyes at her while pulling the top of my hospital gown back up to cover the star shaped mark I had been inspecting. After talking with Jack, I slept another ten hours. My usual nightmares about my father and KJ finding me had been interrupted by the appearance of a large gray wolf who chased them away before sitting at my feet. After that I slept peacefully. It was the best sleep I'd gotten in years and I had awoken to find Jack asleep in the chair beside my bed. I studied him for a couple minutes noticing that even in sleep he still looked strong and firm. I shifted slightly and his eyes sprung open searching the room before finding me and relaxing. The tether between us hummed and I raised my hand to the mark on my chest.

A nurse appeared with food, breaking the tension. Then it was a whirlwind of x-rays and tests before Dr. Roscoe appeared and told me I could be released but she wanted to follow up with me in a week. My IV had been removed and Charlie had gone in search of some scrubs I could wear while I escaped to the bathroom. Jack had never strayed further than the hallway throughout the procedures and I needed a minute to figure out my plan without him bombarding my senses.

Even with my exhausted mind, my hormones had paid more attention to his abs when he lifted the shirt last night than the mark he had shown me, but studying mine, it did seem like they matched. Charlie’s intrusion had pulled me out of a worry spiral that was threatening to send me escaping through another window.

“You seem pretty close to my size, so these should fit you. I can bring some other stuff over to Reacher’s place tonight until you get your wardrobe figured out.” Charlie continued, placing a pair of green scrubs on the counter.

“Thank you…wait, Reacher’s house?” I swung around to face her.

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Yes, Reacher’s house. Where you will be staying. You didn’t know that?”

“No, I thought I could go to a motel or…although I guess I can’t pay for a motel but I could get a job or I could just…” My rambling was cut off by Charlie giggling. “Why are you laughing!”

“He has lived in your hospital room since you came in.” She tried to stop another round of giggles. “Oh my gosh, I have to tell Neagley, she will die. You staying in a hotel on the other side of the village”

“Charlie!” My screech sobered her but I heard Jack moving in the other room and the pull in my chest tugged a little causing me to reach my hand up and rub it.

“You’re already tuned to each other.” Charlie smiled, rubbing a spot on her chest. “I’m sorry I laughed. If you want to stay in the hotel instead of his place, that’s fine. But be prepared for a roommate or a tent pitched outside your door. Reacher is a good man, he has helped my mate out more than once and always when he didn’t have to. You are safe with him.” She nodded her head towards the scrubs before retreating out the door.

Changing into the scrubs with my one good arm proved challenging and by the time I had accomplished it I was sweating and wanted to sleep for another 10 hours but with a deep breath I steeled myself as I walked back into my room.

As expected, Jack turned away from Charlie immediately, looking me over like he was checking for new injuries. I tried not to focus on the gaze that lingered on my chest making me hyper aware that I didn’t have a bra on.

Charlie broke the tension by bringing me a stack of papers. “These are your discharge instructions along with a note of everything we did or gave you while you were here. Roscoe already went over everything with Reacher but feel free to reach out. Are you feeling ok?”

“Ya, just a little worn out from wrestling my clothes on with one hand.” I chuckled.

“Reacher, why don’t you go pull the truck around. I’ll bring Morgan out in a minute.” She waved Jack off with an eyebrow raise when he didn’t immediately leave. Once he left she turned to me, her face serious, “If you want, when I drop the clothes off later, I can help you shower and get changed. I know you aren’t ready for him to help.”

I nodded, heat climbing my cheeks, “I would appreciate that Charlie, thank you.”

She grinned in response before turning us towards the door. I followed her into the hallway and then onto an elevator that opened into a lobby. The people we passed along the way were all friendly, greeting Charlie and smiling politely at me. I gasped when we stepped outside. The storm had shielded the beauty of the valley on the night I arrived. The clear view of the mountains and trees surrounding the village was a picturesque backdrop to the cabins and buildings on either side of the hospital. My gaze spun around before landing on Jack standing by a blue Ford pickup. He opened the passenger side and gestured for me.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” Charlie gave my hand an encouraging squeeze and I smiled before sliding into the passenger seat.

I fiddled with my fingers as Jack rounded the truck and hopped in the driver's seat. Forcing myself to not watch him I looked out the window and at the hospital we were pulling away from. It was a large building, much larger than I would expect for a pack in the middle of nowhere. “Jack, how big is this pack?”

“103 currently, growing though, now that the members have settled and started having kids.” He shrugged, turning onto a road that looked like it was part of a town square.

“That’s very specific.” I smiled, “Does the hospital serve another pack? It seems bigger than needed”

“Details matter” he waved at a couple walking on the sidewalk, “and at least half the pack are ex-military. The influx of kids combined with living out here keeps Roscoe busy.”

I nodded, watching out the window as we made our way across the village. It wasn’t huge but from what I could see it was homey, clean and well maintained. A few people stared as we drove by but they all waved at Jack. “Everyone seems so…nice.”

Jack chuckled, turning the truck onto a small road that curved between some trees. “Neagley is pretty strict about who she lets join. It also helps…or hurts…that everyone is connected. The starting members were from my old army unit. They brought in their families and it grew from there. O’Donnel knew Roscoe’s husband, Roscoe knew Charlie and so on and so forth.”

“So the pack really is a big family?” Even I heard the wistfulness in my voice and I blushed when he glanced over at me but I had already spilled enough of my story to answer the question in his expression.

“Here we are” he gestured out the windshield as a cabin came into view.

My jaw dropped as I took in the beautiful two story cabin with a wrap around porch and a chimney that had a curl of smoke coming out. “This is your house? It’s beautiful.”

“Technically. I paid for it but Neagley and Dixon did all the work. I keep telling them to let someone else move in but they said I would need it someday. Turns out they were right.” He put the truck in park and jogged around to my side before I could open the door.

He watched me as I followed him into the house and took in the decor. It was simple and masculine. The same cedar wood was on the interior of the open floor plan. Soft brown leather sofas faced a fireplace that provided a comfortable glow into the rest of the house. A kitchen table sat near a large bay window that showcased another stunning view of the forest and mountains. The kitchen had stainless steel appliances and an island outfitted with barstools and the whole thing was overlooked by an upstairs loft.

“Bathroom, laundry room and an office through there.” Jack pointed to a hallway off the kitchen. He stood back as I peeked into each area before gesturing to the stairs. “Bedrooms are up here.” The comforting colors continued upstairs. Jack pointed out another bathroom and his bedroom before opening a third door. “This can be your room.”

“Thank you,” I replied, stepping into the room. It wasn’t huge but it was cozy and the bed looked soft. There was a closet on one end and a dresser on the other. The nightstands matched the dresser and sported lamps with light blue shades. “This is beautiful.”

“This is your space, you can make whatever changes you want. Just let me know.” I turned to find Jack standing in the doorway and that hum appeared in the tether again as we looked at each other.

Before I could reply the doorbell rang and he went down to answer it. I stayed in the room a few minutes longer, running my hand over the comforter that matched the lamp shades and smiling to myself. Stepping onto the landing I heard Jack and another male voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you Mr. Mosley, you didn’t have to do this.” Reacher smiled at the older man as he put the food in the fridge and handed him a bottle of water.

“You know my lady wouldn’t allow that to happen.” He replied with a chuckle, settling himself onto one of the barstools. “She would have come herself but her hip is acting up again after the storm.”

Morgan timidly made her way down the staircase and he could almost feel the worry rolling off her. She was nervous to stay with him but hadn’t put up a fight like he had been worried she would. He wouldn’t have blamed her, all of the information they had dug up on her past pointed towards a rightful apprehension towards men.

“Mr. Mosley, this is Morgan.” Reacher gestured for her to come in before continuing. “Morgan, this is Mr. Mosley. He and his wife run the pack grocery and hardware store. He brought us some dinner.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Mosley, thank you for the food.” Morgan smiled and shook the older man's hand.

“The pleasure is all mine my dear, when we heard the big guy had found a pretty little mate and that she was injured, my wife started cooking. If you hadn’t gotten released when you did we would be out of fridge space. And I had to bring it over to make sure he saved some for you.”

Morgan laughed softly at his words, visibly relaxing. “Jack has been very kind.”

“Oh? Jack is it?” Mosley raised an eyebrow at Reacher who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You really must be his mate to have that honor.” He stage whispered to Morgan, causing her to giggle.

Catching sight of Charlie’s car pulling in, he moved to the door to let her in. “So far so good?” She asked when she reached the door, a duffle bag in hand.

“Ya, Mosley showed up at the end of the tour with food in tow. She seems relaxed.” Reacher placed the bag on the stairs, pausing to see the grin light up Morgan’s face when she saw Charlie. Mosley was trying to send food home with her when he rejoined the group.

“I’m good, Paul is making dinner. I just stopped by to bring Morgan some cast friendly clothes and help her get cleaned up and then I’ll head home.” Charlie smiled kindly at him.

“I haven’t had a shower since before I fell and” Morgan held up her cast, “I discovered earlier that only having one good arm makes things like that difficult.” A happy hum vibrated through their tether and Reacher smiled to himself.

“You ladies go ahead, I’ll help Reacher get supper ready and then head back to the misses. Don’t be a stranger, Morgan.” Mosley called as Morgan led Charlie up the stairs not missing the way Reacher watched his little mate until she was out of sight.

#micole writes things now #reacher #reachertv #some hearts #jack reacher #reacher x ofc #jack reacher x ofc #alan ritchson

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genderisareligion · 10 months

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Sorry for all the personal posts lately but I'm legitimately scared for my life and can't leave the state I'm in right now. I have no idea what to do, pretty much no one I've ever known is helping me because I'm under a conservatorship I don't even remember agreeing to and can't possibly afford the lawyer to get me out of this. Not trying to be dramatic at all, I want to live, I don't feel suicidal, but I'm literally out of options, can't afford to feed myself the way I need to with this horrible eating disorder from Autism and childhood neglect, and feel death is imminent unless I agree to go back to these strange psych wards she can send me to where they can break the law freely like she can for some reason.

My mother is content to have me drive around in a giant van full of my things and my 5 year old cat, days after just being thrown into solitary confinement for no reason I was aware of (see pinned post), days after being denied not one but two public defenders that I am legally owed, because she's too immature to open the garage with MY LOCK AND KEY ON IT to just let me either put the rest of my things in there out of her sight or take everything and take it somewhere else. Where though??? She's spoken to almost everyone I know somehow, family friends anyone and told them whatever the fuck she wants about me, I guess, I don't get to speak for myself or correct it, even my "best friend" last year has completely blocked me. For some reason they believe her despite her ugly ass "son" (excuse for a living being) being a fucking rapist who she will protect to the death. HUH? Were you all faking the feminism allyship that entire time, like the 9-10 years you knew me, some of you? I'm about to start posting names because that's fucking insane.

I have the video and will post it, she called the police last night because I was parked behind her house out of necessity. Fresh out of the illegal solitary, spent like 8 hours getting "home," only for my landlord via the snake filled women's center (long story) to try and kick me out immediately and attempt to call the cops again if I'm not fast enough. What happens when I get to my mother's? Same shit, she's talking to me like I'm the r-slur they still say willy willy so I put my headphones in. That's illegal too, now I can't be anywhere near her house or she will have me arrested. Last night, and just about an hour ago (what my video is from).

THIS MORNING I CALLED THE POLICE ON HER because I wanted to know how the fuck she can do this and keep me away from the rest of my shit and my shit in her garage and refuse to give my cat a home even though she adopted him, when she is obviously my conservator and my disability checks have to go there and she has unnecessary financial and social control of everything right now. The only reason my address isn't where I've actually lived on the ID is because some other woman my mother spoke to got me drunk and stole my ID so that I had to put my ex's address on it. Collectively trying to isolate me out there to... what? FOR WHAT? Be trapped with the "woman" who's planning on beating me and choking me?

If you have it in you please boost this to let people know what's going on with me and why I'm not posting the same at all. Does anyone have any idea what the fuck I do??? Cannot afford a lawyer whatsoever would have to be entirely pro bono, so I'm screwed.

I don't want to die. My own mother wants me to. Unsure what to do

#shadow.txt

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saltymongoose · 2 years

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🔞 [THE KISS] 🔞 - How They React to a Vampire!Player's Bite ft. The Main 4

I'm so glad to finally be posting this, sorry for the long the wait. 😅 You guys know the deal, minors do not interact in any way, heed the tags and TWs. Other than this, enjoy! <3

(TW: !Minors Do Not Interact!, Extremely Suggestive Content, Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Biting, Descriptions of Blood, Reader is a sadist again lol) [Part 1 - WORLD WITHOUT LOGOS] ←

As it turns out, your vessels were more than happy to accommodate you in every way possible, and this includes your dependence on vitae - blood.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't expect a positive, if not outright excited reaction to the idea of you feeding on them. (After spending so much time around them, their amusing amount of possessiveness over you wasn't something you could ignore.) However, their complete lack of regard for their own safety was still something you found concerning. Especially when you let them know that you took more than just blood from your vessels.

You let them in on this when you were trying to warn them: “Well, besides the fact that you might die, another effect of a mortal getting fed on by a Vampire is that said Vampire can get your soul, or part of it,” you had said flatly. A look at their stunned and weirdly awe-filled expressions was enough to prompt you to continue before they asked any questions.

"Most kindred don’t have the ability to do that, but I do. It’s one of the things that makes me so powerful if I go overboard with the feeding. If I drain you dry, your entire soul is mine, period. I already know you’re going to ask, but even if I don’t kill you by feeding, and the loss of that part of your soul won’t have much of an effect if any, it’s still important. If I get your blood in my mouth and I swallow it, a part of who you are will belong entirely to me. Forever."

You thought that would be a deal breaker for them. Surely giving up something so important to a monster like yourself wouldn't be desirable in any way, right? Wrong. Which you admit you honestly should've expected.

On the contrary, the thought of you legitimately owning part of their souls was actually exciting to them. Even the more level-headed grunts of your troupe couldn’t help the flush that overtook their faces as they silently mused on how wonderful it’d be to have such a thing happen; to be yours in the most literal sense possible and have the essence of their existence belong to you (as it should). They even thought it sounded romantic, really. Your fated partner having a part of your very being integrated into theirs, so that you’ll never truly be away from them (even in death).

Your vessels were touched by how much you cared about their safety, but that didn’t stop how tantalizing being bitten by you appeared to be. They want you to own them. So no, of course they wouldn’t dare let anyone else have the privilege of receiving “The Kiss” from you (as your kind called it). And you weren't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth (blood from the willing always tasted far better anyway), so you accepted their little proposal, to their absolute delight.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Hank has zero hesitancy whatsoever in regard to you biting him, having wanted to bear your mark from the moment you first met. In his eyes, your relationship was one of ownership already; he was your vessel and you were his Player. (The only one he’d allow to control his every movement without question, the individual who he respected and loved enough to give himself to completely.) Being bitten by you would serve to make your claim on him open and obvious, so the fact that you would be bound together through his soul afterward was just a bonus if anything.

Perhaps this is what makes him so incredibly impatient whenever it’s his turn to receive The Kiss from you. His trembling and rushed movements are symptoms of the excitement he feels at getting closer to being marked by you. You can feel it especially well when he's yanked you into his lap, pressing you so tightly together that you have to bend backward to look him in the face. He beats you to it when you try to undo his coat and bandages, nearly ripping the offending cloth away before leaning into your shorter form. (You give him a look when he turns his head to bare his neck to you. It hasn't even been five minutes since you started.) Honestly, it seems like Hank is on the verge of somehow forcing your teeth into his neck himself most of the time.

Biting Hank also comes with an additional stipulation. With most of your vessels, you do a quick bite - one that you can cover up and heal quickly. Thing is, Hank doesn't want you to pierce him with just your canines. Instead, he prefers for all of your teeth to penetrate his skin; the full mark of your bite left indented in his flesh is what he truly needs. You’re fine with it, of course, even if it’s a bit unorthodox for vessels you actually mean to keep alive.

Hank is surprisingly noisy when you feed on him. His breaths grow more and more labored when your maw's sharpened razors begin to stab into him, sinking into his skin easily as you squeeze your jaws down and sending an odd jolt of heat to his lower body. Another harsh nudge of your teeth further into his neck is met with a low groan from him, the noise muffled from behind his mask.

(He's never felt anything like it. The sharp sting blooms into an intoxicating mixture of pain and overwhelming pleasure, only made better by the way he can feel your lips pulling into a smile when he pants.

The haze from your bite clouds his mind until he’s lost in the euphoric feeling of you finally showing him everything you try to hide: The animalistic nature of your hunger that he only sees in fights, the cruel, amused laughs you make when another moan or whine leaves his mouth, and how you nip playfully, painfully, at his bite to elicit more noises from him. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways…but it’s still never enough.)

The slow draw of his blood from you sucking at his wounds makes him want more of something, igniting an urge for him to completely surrender everything to you. It's something you realize early on, with how you're able to read your vessel's minds like this.

He tries to satiate that incessant need by leaning further into your form to try and catch your fangs deeper into his skin, attempting to silently persuade you into making this even bloodier than it began. Perhaps even trying to force you further into his lap, caging you tighter to him in the hopes that the closeness of you pressed against every part of him would somehow stop that hunger for more of whatever you can give him. It doesn't work, though, and you can tell from the way his hips shift underneath you, and the tightening grip that threatens to force the tips of his claws into you that he's getting frustrated with it. (He can’t even explain why he feels so discontent; this is what he wanted, but it still aches. He has to have more, he needs it-)

However amusing (or perhaps even cute) you find his uncharacteristically desperate movements and noises to be, you acknowledge that you probably should give him some small kindness to alleviate that pull you know he’s feeling. Considering how you can't drain him dry, your chosen remedy is simple. Bite him again. The sudden burst of pain is enough to pull a choked moan from him, his purrs rumbling even louder as you tear another deep mark into his flesh. And then you do it again. And again.

You aren't really sure why it works, but you can tell from how the tension in him seems to be winding tight and how his body is starting to tremble that it’s at least a suitable distraction. This, and the fact that the only thing you can read from his mind is a hazy sense of happiness and adoration (odd, considering what you were. If you happened to be more careful in pulling your teeth from him after that, and soothing the wounds with your tongue, then it was purely coincidental.)

Of course, it’s not like Hank always stands perfectly still when you do this. He’s obedient to a fault, especially to you, but you honestly can’t expect him to just sit there and take it when you’re moving around in his lap and marking him repeatedly like that. So when you inevitably end up pinned somewhere with Hank’s panting form looming above you, blood dripping down onto you from the collar of bites you've left on him, you suppose you only have yourself to blame. Tempting the beast, and all that.

Either way, you've probably been full for a few minutes and the extra bites are always more for his benefit than anything. It won’t fully sate that deep-seated need he has for more from you. Nothing will, until you do more to claim him as your kind would.

But watching him almost frantically pull his mask down before slamming his mouth against yours in a bloody kiss, and feeling the way his weight rests on you heavily to seek out more contact tells you that this has been at least somewhat satisfying for him. Although, you'd be a fool to assume he'd calm down quickly from this high you've given him and let you go just because you think you're finished. (If he croaks from blood loss, he figures Doc can just bring him back again. Right?)

- [2BDAMNED] -

2BDamned tries to approach you biting him in a clinical, professional manner, he really does. He insists on doing it in a sterile environment, even taking a shower beforehand so he’s completely clean for you. He sits at his desk and has his tablet in front of him in case he needs to record information on anything odd he’s feeling. He wants to treat these occasions as research in addition to something just to feed you. However, he never actually fulfills that objective, no matter how many times you do this.

Doc tries to ask you questions about the process while you stand over him, lifting his jaw and tilting his head to the side to get a better view of his neck. You find it really funny since it’s obvious he’s trying to get himself together. The cracks in his composure start to show when you bring your face closer to his, and he stumbles over a few words. That’s nothing compared to how he gets when you respond to his inquiries, though, lips and the edge of a sharp canine ghosting over his skin.

(“We’re lucky I’m not from one of the more…picky clans. Some of us can only drink from really specific types of humans, and I’d probably starve if I was restricted by that,” you muse quietly, paying no mind to how your lips press slightly to his throat on some of your words. What you do notice is how 2B’s breath hitches from it. You tilt your head and breathe out a silent chuckle. You can’t even tell if he got anything you just said. “What, no questions?” He flinches a bit. So he wasn't focusing on what you were saying. How interesting.)

His hold on his composure only slips further once you bite him. The press of your teeth is met with a sharp inhale, and he tenses up when they pierce his skin. You won’t hear any obvious noises from him, at least nothing he doesn’t attempt to muffle. With your hearing though, it isn’t difficult to pinpoint the little gasps he tries to hide when you nudge your sharp fangs a little deeper into his flesh, nor is it hard to tell that he's fighting to keep his breath stable.

He’ll try to continue asking questions, only to fade off in the middle of them, completely losing his train of thought as you drink from him. In Doc's defense, having you so close and sucking at his neck is enough to stop him from thinking; his head feels fuzzy, and he isn’t sure if that distinct warmth he feels building in him is from your vampirism or your traits as the Player. He can admit to himself that it feels...good. Too good, actually. It's enough to make him achingly self-aware of his own reactions, and to compel him to at least try not to act so “out of line” with you there.

(You're someone he considers a sort of superior; your status as his Player demands the utmost respect; even if you're biting his neck and draining his blood, he has to keep some level of decorum with regard to that. It's difficult, with how a large part of him wants to just give in to the feeling of you, but he tries to manage it.)

Sometimes you might try to get him to let go of this facade he's so desperate to hold onto. (You don't want him worrying about something like this since it really doesn't matter to you, and the experience would be so much better for him if he just relaxed for a change.) This could mean letting your tongue linger for a bit longer as you lick up his blood, or nibbling at the edges of the wound harshly so the bruise of it'll stay for a while longer.

Does it work 100% of the time? No. But it's a convenient challenge to focus on when you're ensuring your focus doesn't fall entirely into draining him. Though if you want a guaranteed way to break Doc, you found that outright telling him how good you think he tastes works exceedingly well. It's enough to make him choke back a small moan, so you consider it a success. The blush you see sweeping across his skin, even visible on his jaw and neck, makes it even better.

2BDamned knows that you do this just to make his attempt at a professional demeanor slip. It's obvious from how he can feel you grin once you manage to get something substantial out of him, which causes his face to burn hotter. He doesn't know what to do with the knowledge that you seem genuinely pleased when this happens, and embarrassingly enough, he can even feel himself beginning to purr when it does. He stiffens when he feels the rumbles starting to build up; it's like that animalistic part of him is satisfied by how happy you are when his instincts begin to break through. (They are an important part of him, even if he keeps it hidden most of the time.)

2B also tends to go far longer than the others do with letting you feed. He’ll allow you to drink from him for a concerning amount of time before doing anything to try and alert you, whether it be outright telling you that he can’t go on further or tapping you to signal that something’s changed in his condition. Even if he's starting to feel exhausted, he doesn't feel the need to stop you. Not with his claws digging painfully into the palms of his hands as he fights the urge to make more noises (he'd die of mortification if he lets another loud whine slip from him again). Not even when he shifts back into his seat to stop from squirming too much at the euphoric feeling of you draining him. The motivation just isn't there.

He'd never openly admit it, but he feels far too good to. (And it's not like he can think of a pragmatic way to do it with his head so foggy.) It's probably because of your abilities, but he also concludes it's also connected to how he's essentially being marked by you. Claimed as yours in the way that grunts have always staked such importance on. He likes it, to put it simply. It's fulfilling, and he relishes in the event as much as he can. Of course, you receiving part of his soul along with his blood was not something he initially expected, but with Nevada's poor excuse of an afterlife, he thinks it's the best option. He wants to give all that he was to you, and you spending so much time marking him worked perfectly with that. Even if it makes him weak, why would he ask you to quit when the positives so obviously outweighed the negatives?

This means it typically falls on you to stop this, which you do with little fanfare. You may or may not press a little kiss on his jaw to soothe him after working over the wound with your tongue (just so it heals up all nicely, an effect of your saliva), earning another pleased sigh from him, but you hold off on a lot of what you could do. You figure with how Doc is, the nicest thing is to let him try to regain his composure. Even if it takes a lot, with how boneless he looks under you and how red he is, even with all that blood loss. You can tell his heart is beating unnaturally fast, but you're blind to how he's looking at you in an almost lovesick daze. You smile at him and he shifts in his seat. You still have his blood on your lips.

At this moment, he usually wonders if it's disappointment he feels at you not continuing and doing more with him. It only takes receiving your Kiss a few times to realize that this is entirely correct, and a couple more for him to start formulating ways to get you to stay.

- [SANFORD] -

For someone who faces the chance of getting grievously injured nearly every day, Sanford is surprisingly nervous leading up to your bite. He doesn’t talk that much or shift around a lot, instead just fidgeting a little with his hands and stiffening up when you come closer. It’s almost like he’s trying to mentally prepare himself for it, which you can understand. Being bitten by you is incredibly overwhelming, even for other vampires.

You’re more gentle with Sanford from the get-go since you don’t want to take him off guard too much or make him uncomfortable. The added gentleness is obvious from how you softly rest your hands on him and slowly work him through some of the steps you’re doing, even outright telling him when you're about to bite him. You're careful in a way you rarely show to others, and it makes his heart start to beat faster before your lips even touch him.

Sanford is incredibly restrained whenever you officially start one of these encounters. The nervousness shows, but he tries to steel his facial expression to keep it down, biting back a noise when you finally cut into him with your teeth. He can feel your hands moving, fingers tracing comforting circles as you tighten your jaws to pull blood from him, and he shifts slightly, turning his head to both bare his neck more to you and hide his flustered expression. You haven’t even really begun draining him, but he’s already getting overwhelmed.

(A reaction he blames on how grunts are. It’s only natural to get flustered if someone you like romantically incidentally claims you with a piercing bite, especially when it’s in such a visible spot. He knows you're aware of this too, which only makes the reaction worse. Is it really so outlandish to assume that you welcome this idea of officially staking a claim on him, since you showed zero hesitance to continue after being informed? He hopes not.)

The grunts have always felt very warm to you due to your vampirism, but you’re a little shocked by just how hot he feels. If it were Deimos, you could blame it on pyrokinesis, but with Sanford it's more worrying. You were relieved to find that it was simply his blush that made him like this. It seems this flusters him more than you initially thought it would. (How odd it is, that he’s able to get so red when you’ve started draining him of his blood.)

To your joy, you can actually feel him relax into your grip when you gingerly remove your teeth, even if he tenses up the slightest bit when you run your tongue over the opening you made, testing to see if the bite was deep enough. Honestly, Sanford thought it’d be painful at first, maybe with some numbness mixed in. But when your lips seal onto his neck and you suck at his split skin, he realized that it’s the exact opposite. The feeling of your mouth on him, pressing roughly onto his flesh as you tongue at the cuts where his life essence spills from is one that makes heat curl in his gut.

Despite how hard Sanford tries to remain quiet, not wanting to be inappropriate when you’re only doing this for food, he can’t stop noises that leave his throat; little cut-off moans and deeper groans, even a few breathy whines and gasps. He's purring too of course, the rumbling echoes in your ears while you busy yourself with pulling blood from his body.

It's shameful for him since he worries he's putting you off by acting this way, but he just can't stop it. It feels so good, to have you leaving a mark on his flesh and pressed so close to him. The painful sting of the wound only elevates the sensation, and the tension in him winds tighter every time your sharp teeth graze him. He has to do something with this weird longing he feels, whether it be making noises or subconsciously reaching up to rest his hands on you to ground himself. You let him pull you closer with no complaint.

You really don't care about how he acts, of course; it's a completely natural reaction to what you're doing. The biggest reaction you'll give is a chuckle when he gives a particularly loud moan, or a small exhale in amusement when you notice how his hips jolt when your thighs brush his. Seems noises aren't all you can get from him if the way he seems to seek contact with all of you is any sign.

Shame can wait until after you're finished, when the high of having you biting him and sucking his blood has faded away. At the moment, he's too lost to the heat from your actions and the hazy, painful pleasure of your Kiss. It's paired with an odd duality from you; the gentleness you show in all aspects except for the way you nip at his skin and suck harshly, as though you want the "hickey" you leave to last for days afterward. He can't tell if he feels lightheaded from blood loss or just being overwhelmed by your actions, but either way, he wants more.

(Or perhaps he just wants you to desire more from him. He knows you already get a part of his soul from this, but he still aches for you to take him completely. He knows that it's probably an irrational thought, since this is probably just a side effect of losing a part of himself, but the overwhelming need is still there.)

However, Sanford at least has the sense to stop instead of insisting you go on. You don't often push him too far, but if he ever feels like he's starting to get too weak, he'll tell you as best he can manage. (Or maybe just nudge you pointedly if he can’t muster the words, which happens.) You're quick to pull away as soon as you notice, taking a quick glance over him to check for any serious signs of blood loss. It’s nothing too bad but you still agree that you should stop, so you give him a soft look before slowly returning to the wound to close it. He shudders when he feels your cold tongue swiping over him, and you pause for a moment to make sure he’s alright before continuing. You’re honestly really sweet to him when you end your “sessions”; you even whisper a small thank you to him after you’re completely finished, sometimes accompanying it with a soft peck to his cheek.

Sanford questions if he’s more embarrassed by his reaction to your bite, or at how something so simple and innocent almost makes him just as flustered. In any case, it’ll provide him enough motivation to ask you to stay, at least for a little while. He’d like the company while he recovers, he reasons, and you accept the proposal every time. It’s a good way to monitor him (plus it’s just nice to cuddle into Sanford's side while he rests, not gonna lie). If Sanford happens to play up his condition a little more to get you to remain with him for another hour or five, then the others will just have to put up with it. (Forever would be better, he'd muse to himself as he tightens his arms around you...Maybe becoming a Vampire wasn't such a bad idea after all.)

- [DEIMOS] -

If there’s one word you would use to describe how Deimos acts when you bite him, it’s restless. His clawed fingers tap repeatedly on your waist and thigh as you loom over him, and he squirms with anticipation when you bring your face closer to his skin and your hands move up to pull his coat off his shoulders. No matter how you try to ease him into it, whether by doing it when you’re already cuddling him or during your other more comfortably intimate moments, he just doesn’t stop fidgeting.

(If you were someone with less experience (or maybe if Deimos had been anyone else), you might’ve been annoyed. But you were in no rush, and truthfully, you found it to be a little endearing.)

This doesn’t stop when you actually bite him, either. He might pause and hold his breath when your lips brush his skin, swallowing roughly when you stop over a spot you like, but this halts the moment your teeth actually pierce him. A loud cry will leave his lips before teetering off into an airy whine, his legs knocking into yours as his hips jolt under yours, forcing you to rebalance yourself as you instinctually clamp your jaws down a bit tighter. Something you’d do as a warning for your more expendable sources of blood, but the pain just forces another raspy moan from him.

Deimos is one of the quickest to fully lose himself to the sensations of you biting him, his mind going fuzzy and thoughts spiraling until the only thing that’s tethering him to the moment is you. Maybe it’s something about you being a vampire, or that it’s you who’s doing it to him, but the only thing he can focus on is your lips pressing roughly to his skin as you suck his blood into your mouth, your hands cradling him so carefully, and the weight of you over his body.

Deimos is probably one of the most vocal vessels you’ve had the pleasure of drinking from as well. His whines, raspy moans, and ardent praises fill your ears when you suck at his wounds, lapping his life essence up with restrained delight. During those few seconds where you have to pull your lips away to reorient yourself (mainly to stop from getting too into it and draining him dry), he whimpers little pleas for you to come back.

(“Fuck-wait, nonono, don’t stop, please.” He begs, trying to hold you tighter when he feels you wrench your mouth away from him with a wet squelch. No, you can’t leave him like this, you wouldn’t- You just laugh and hold him tighter, pressing a few bloody kisses to his jaw in a move that makes him blush a deeper shade of red, if that’s even possible.)

If it weren’t for the fact that everybody knows what you’re doing, you might’ve considered using your abilities to stop him from being so loud. You happen to find it extremely amusing (and perhaps a little cute) though, and the self-satisfaction of reducing him to such a messy state is enough to stop you from even dwelling on the idea. Come to think of it, messy really is the perfect adjective to describe the state you reduce him to when you drink.

Especially with how his noises rise slightly in pitch with each rough suck to his wound and his clawed fingertips scratch at your skin, hips bucking up while he squirms underneath your form like he’s trying to seek out friction from you. The only intelligible words from him are little praises, curses, and begs, intermittent with panting, moans, and raspy purrs. It’s so funny, just how little inhibition he has with acting this way around you. Not that you blame him that much; it’s normal, and he just can’t help himself.

(This won’t stop him from being mortified by his behavior afterward. Even if you’re okay with it, since it’s pretty natural for those you feed on, you still shouldn’t be seeing him like this when the situation shouldn’t call for it. It just isn’t proper. Then again…what if you like it?)

Sometimes, if you’re feeling particularly generous, you’ll brace a hand on his chin, tilting his head down as you remove your bloodied mouth from his neck and allowing him to regain at least some of his composure. It doesn’t work a good majority of the time, since he typically just whines out a complaint and arches his back as a way to try and return that closeness you had before. You still ask questions about how he is to try and bring him back to the moment (“Dei, you feeling alright? Lightheaded? Dizzy?”), because you're responsible enough to make sure he isn’t too out of it. A sly grin spreads across your face when you lean closer and delicately wipe the drool from his lips with your thumb, gauging his facial expression as you wait for some semblance of a response. (Again, very messy.)

Occasionally you don’t get one though, because even if he’s suffering from the effects of blood loss, most of the time he won’t even acknowledge it. This is partly due to how your abilities work to dampen that realization (something you try to lessen by stopping for those few minutes), but more importantly because he just really wants your mouth back on him. Even if he’s starting to feel a slight weakness creeping up on him and his pulse is rising dangerously high, the sensation of your lips on his jugular and your tongue lapping at his wounds fills him with an odd, stirring warmth that’s just too good.

You’d say that Deimos is lucky you have a lot of self-control for a vampire, otherwise you think you'd completely devour him. His blood is almost addictive; thicker than the others is due to the nicotine he consumes, and almost sticky. It’s like syrup to you. The reactions you get out of him just make the idea more tempting, especially since you can tell that he seems to desperately need more contact with you, to press together and have you swallow him whole so you'll never be apart. But you can't do that.

By the time you’re finished with him, he looks utterly debauched. Purring and in a strange trance as he looks at your blood-coated lips, another desperate noise leaving him when you lean back further. It'll take him a while to recuperate and get back to "normal" after this, so you keep an eye on him for the time being. It's not like it's difficult to justify when he hasn't actually let you go yet.

A small thought comes to Deimos' mind when you start to clean him up, gently swiping the residual blood away from his skin with your tongue, your saliva working quickly to heal up his wounds. Maybe he can get you to leave the bite next time? Or better yet, make it permanent?

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punks-never-die205 · 9 months

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Unseen

afab!reader x Killer

CW: canon-typical violence, smooches, sexy times, second go at life try again style story, 18+ only

Chapter 3: Volunteer Work

Eating was more tense than you had expected. Most everyone else was already done, and it was just Killer and you in the galley. He wouldn't let you help him, but he didn't take long either. He spruced up and reheated some leftovers, so it wasn't like he had made you something from scratch.

Still, it tasted good, and you wondered vaguely if Killer's cooking was improving, or if you were just enjoying it more. It felt like you were enjoying him more, as though his presence alone was making things better. It didn't bother you when he was interacting with other members of the crew, but the idea of him making a meal for some other singular person made you feel oddly uncomfortable.

You poked listlessly at your food as your mind wandered into the terrible territory of Killer having a girlfriend, or even just a wench. It wasn't like you would stop him, but at the same time the idea left you feeling twisted inside.

"Is it bad?" Killer asked, legitimately concerned.

You snapped out of your own thoughts, "Oh, no. No, it's good."

"Worried about what Kid wants to talk about?"

Not even a little bit. "It's not the first time he's called me in." You took a bite to buy yourself some time. "I don't know, maybe I'm more worn out from earlier than I thought." Your ears went hot, you didn't like lying to Killer, but you didn't know how to verbalize what was really on your mind.

On top of it, it felt like Killer was boring holes into your soul with how he was staring. Mask or not, it wasn't hard to tell with him. Both him and Kid had a tendency to radiate what they were thinking or feeling, and once you learned how to read that it made reading them easier.

"If there's something on your mind, brat," Killer's voice was a little lower than usual, and there was a seriousness to it that made your heart thump again, "but you don't want to talk about it, you're allowed to just say that."

You swallowed. "Sorry." Apologizing quietly, you kept your eyes on the food in front of you for a few more minutes as you finished.

"S'alright." Killer moved to shuffle your hair but stopped. Your heart didn't thump that time, but it felt like something was trying to twist it.

You both made your way to Kid in silence. Really, terribly, awkward silence. All you could think was that you wanted to talk about how you didn't like not talking about the silence, but by the time you thought you were going to burst you'd reached Kid's workshop.

Kid spent more time in his workshop than he did anywhere else on the ship. The only place he seemed to enjoy being more than the workshop was in the middle of a brawl. You liked the workshop generally, it smelled of oil and metal and effort and there was something comforting about it. Today though, it felt like you were being dragged in front of an inquisition, but that wasn't Kid's fault.

When you got inside Kid, Wire and Heat were already there.

"The brat of the hour," Wire said with a kind smile. All the tension inside you snapped and you felt your own body relax.

"Am you getting some sort of group assessment on how I did today or something?" You questioned, stepping in and plopping down in an available seat.

"What? If you had done poorly I'da just tossed you overboard." Kid snapped. "You're here cause we got a lead on something, and if you're up for it, we have a subtle way of dealing with it."

"Subtle?" You weren't sure this crew knew the meaning of the word.

Heat, Kid, and Wire talked you through the whole situation. Your nerves grew as you realized Killer wasn't adding anything to the discussion, but just sitting quietly. Normally his company was comforting even when he was quiet, but there was something coming from his silence this time that felt wrong.

The basic idea came down to needing marine codes. With the codes we could pass a marine controlled gate and get to an island via a route not usually taken by pirates. That would give the crew an advantage in raiding the supply depot on the island. All Marine Captains have a copy of the codes, and one easy mark of a Captain known as Nezumi was in charge of the island we was headed to. The crew had been on the island before, so a lot of the marines stationed there knew of Kid and the crew.

But none of them knew about you.

Nezumi was a real slime-ball, and you didn't even need Kid to tell you that much. Just from the pictures they had of him the guy leaned into the whole rat motif more than you would've recommended. Apparently, he took credit for freeing some island in East Blue from the Arlong pirates. You didn't buy that for a second, the Arlong pirates had broke-off from the Sun Pirates, and while you didn't know the Super Rookies well, you knew about all pirates that had been around that long.

"So, what? Am I supposed to steal the codes from him?" You questioned.

All four men exchanged glances. "The issue is, no one can know the codes are compromised," Wire started.

"If we steal them, or get caught copying them, then the whole plan's a bust." Heat finished.

"But if you lift the codes from him, keep him distracted and get things back to him after someone else has copied the codes, then no one's the wiser." Kid explained.

"Keep him distracted how?" You narrowed your eyes, this conversation was going in a direction you didn't like.

Kid shrugged. "Giggle at him, tell him he's handsome, I don't care Short stack. He likes to gamble, if you can keep him in the casino for a few hours, after handing off the codes, then that should be enough."

You crinkled your nose. "You want me to be a casino bunny for a rat?"

"Essentially."

"I can't say it's something I'm not willing to do," you admitted with a sigh. "But I hate heels and dresses, and more than that I hate rats. Is there an alternative?"

"Alternatively, we hit the supply depot without the codes, and come into a stronger fight than we'd have otherwise. We can make it work, but I'd need you front and center with the four of us." Kid explained. "The only way to ensure the crew's safety would be to overwhelm the gates. I can't control enough metal to make it work on my own."

"Is there anything at this supply depot aside from just supplies?"

"Well, supplies keep us alive Short stack," Kid said, but he was smiling. "There's also gold to replenish funds for everything else we need, and most importantly, there's a cache of eternal log poses for the new Marine ships that come through."

You whistled. "That'd be a hell of an upper hand in navigating the Grandline."

You take in a deep breath and let it back out. "So. Option 1 is that I flirt," you shuddered the word involuntary, "with a rat, so we can go into a stockpile of goodies the easy way. Option 2 – or backup plan B if option 1 is botched – is that we go in through the front door for the stockpile and I show off your ability in front of a Marine based filled with CP9 birds?"

"Yup." Kid answered. "Take your time chewing on it, brat. The Rat doesn't even reach the island for another week, and we'll be laying groundwork once we get there ourselves in the next couple of days before we do anything."

You tilted your head to the side, "How do you know he's gonna be there in a week?"

Wire handed over a copy of the Gull Paper, already turned to the page expounding on the Captain's "achievements", and how he would be starting his new position on the island on X date. Your mouth fell open, you knew the World Government was open about Marine achievements, but this seemed information that should stay classified.

"Do they put stuff like this in the paper a lot?" you questioned.

"Yeah. You never read the world rag?" Kid's face showed that he found that hard to believe.

"Never." You admitted. "Before I was 6 I couldn't read, after that I didn't have the privilege to choose what I read, and after that I was on the run from CP9. I saw wanted posters and public notices, but I'd never risk having a gull give away my location."

You saw Heat, Wire and Kid looking confused, and so you told them the story of you that you had told Killer earlier. When you finished, you looked over at Kid to try and gauge his mood.

"I wasn't trying to keep it secret," you admitted, fidgeting with your hair again and feeling really small all of the sudden. "I've just spent the last seven years not talking about it. I don't even like saying my name out loud because every time I say it, it seems like someone is right behind me." Your ears went red and you looked down at the floor while a bunch of metal heads looked at you. "Victoria just feels safe."

You swear you heard Heat and Wire coo, before the two of them hugged you. It was like being comforted by a couple of sentient squishy mountains.

Kid was making a face you couldn't sort out, and Killer was still stone silent. After a moment Kid sighed.

"Really chew on this, brat." He said finally. "Like I said, we have time. I don't want you to do something yer not comfortable with, but we can't afford to scrap hitting that depot."

"Aye, aye, Captain." You manage from between the snuggle pile that was Heat and Wire. You looked around the room and manage to look at Killer for the first time since your talk at the stern. There was something about his posture that felt best left untouched, at least around everyone else. There was obvious tension between him and Kid.

Maybe the idea of you flirting with someone else, genuine or not, bothered him as much as it would've bothered you if your positions were reversed. Captain's order were the make or break of a ship's crew, so there wasn't much either of you could do.

#Unseen #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece #x reader #reader insert #one piece fanfiction #canon au

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falling-drops-of-ichor · 2 months

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After a lot of recent encounters with people saying one of a number of actively harmful things, I feel like it's about time I sit down and chat. I am doing this through the exacerbated brainfog of a fever so this post may be edited for clarity or to make it more concise in the future.

"Source is everything that exists, and there is nothing to command or have power over - you can only have power WITH as everything plays out how it's wanted. The creator expressed itself through it's creations." [This person also tried to convince me that I wanted to be disabled when I incarnated: "You actually have it exactly how you want it."]

As a mostly hard polytheist (I believe some deities may share faces but ultimately believe each deity is an independent entity) the notion of a singular self-expressing source is completely out of line with my beliefs and experiences. You look at the number of ways someone can exist, whether that's method of incarnation or energetic typing or soul species (dragon/demon/etc), and that alone is why I refute a universal source. This person also believes in densities of consciousness, and the fact he couldn't even properly answer my questions about the variation in sentience and sapience in non-human animals even on earth speaks for me on how stupid that idea is. Especially by pinning angels up at the 13th density, while the highest example he gave for anything else was 6th. The whole thing just reeks of new age bullshit and probably could come across ableist if he was slightly less spiritual in his examples.

A different person tried to say the good humans are half alien and half Neanderthal. No real indication of what the others were but I can bet this was ancient astronaut theory in a fresh paint of coat given he was saying the Sumerian pantheon is an alien group, so that was just plain antisemitism. I am an admittedly uneducated gentile, but I hope to keep learning and make an effort to not just seem to hate Nazis (which I do) but to be able to be someone Jews can feel safe around.

Brief note here for the variety bag of other gentiles claiming Lilith has been their guardian since they were a child, etc etc, and how fucking stupid they sound. I've had one admit to me that Jews hate them for it, and he got pretty weird about me agreeing that he's being awful for legitimately believing Lilith is his guardian. (He also thought she is married to Lucifer Morningstar... I don't know enough to comment there but that doesn't sound right.)

This one I haven't personally seen in a while due to carefully curating my communities and Tumblr feed, but a recent discussion on the problem reminding me it's worth adding to this post while it's already long: a belief seeming to surge in popularity into the mainstream that deities don't get angry, can't be offended if you work with them, and won't be harmful intentionally OR on accident. I'm sorry, that's an entire deity, they are substantially threaded into reality itselves. They are huge, and they in my and friends' experiences typically put a nice face on a bit of themselves to talk to you. When my matron, She Who Reads Eulogies, first allowed me to more properly perceive her I almost thought I'd been being duped and just about banished her due to the sheer shock of the intensity and complexity of her presence alone. Hades called me his child and then left without a trace when I was like 16, and I've never so much as felt him since. And that hurt me! That hurt a lot! To have technically both of my fathers abandon me and become cold or abusive was traumatizing! I also have heard stories of deities manipulating people if not outright attacking them. And certain deities won't want to be associated - insisting on working with both of two deities at odds with each other may not end well for you or them. And, predominantly, if you're disrespectful while reaching out I wouldn't expect any beneficial attention in return. Deities are not big people in the sky you can turn into your uwu magic friends that protect you. They can protect you because of the way in which they are powerful enough to do so, and even then - I've seen deities have to turn back due to lines in politics amongst them that they won't cross. Respect what they do for you, and respect their no's... and respect them as beings. I've made awkward offerings and later found out I did it wrong, but I was respectful and acknowledged I might be fumbling so they paid attention regardless.

This is already probably four posts in one, so I'm going to leave this here and if anything else seems worth saying I'll srb or make a new post.

#dripping droplets #long post

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thekatebridgerton · 2 years

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So I had a hilarious idea for a Benophie au

In which Sophie was legitimized as the daughter of the Earl of Gunningworth and is determined to not get married in order to cash in on her complete inheritance as soon as she's on the shelf. Because she doesn't want a husband to get his hands on her money the way Araminta did with her father

Cue Sophie being one of the many mildly ellegible misses of the Ton and meeting the Bridgertons at a much younger age. Going to balls and trying to avoid marriage but still having fun flirting with suitors to appease her father

Then she gets the brilliant idea that she's going to get a lover because she wants to know how that feels like. Better yet she's going to seduce some man at the Bridgerton masquerade

Sophie confides the plan to Kate. As a good best friend, Kate doesn't approve of Sophie's plan. Sophie doesn't care. She's going to dance at the masquerade and find a guy.

----

"Kate!! Kate wake up!" Sophie hissed poking Kate with a stick from the edge of her bed

"Sophie? Wait what are you doing here at.... Dawn" Kate yawned "and wearing a man's shirt of all things??"

"all right so remember yesterday's plan? I may have girlbossed to close to the sun" the Gunningworth heiress said sheepishly

"oh gosh Sophie what did you do"

"I stole some gentlemen's first time" Sophie confessed " as in, you know... I was His first"

"you slept with a virgin??"

"I DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS A VIRGIN!!" Sophie protested "He looked good in his mask, and we got kissing and I practically pushed him down on the bed" Sophie looked anything but ashamed "he's a Bridgerton, who in the world would believe one of those is a virgin?"

"oh no!" Kate gasped in horror "you slept with a Bridgerton, you slept with one of the owners of this house, this is bad, terrible, not good" Kate's eyes got impossibly wider " wait which Bridgerton? Because there's no way the Viscount is a virgin, that clown has the look of a man who knows what a woman looks like naked"

"no, not the Viscount, the second one, Benedict"

"The one who can't sit properly in a chair to save his life?" Kate reviwed the fee times she'd come across Benedict Bridgerton and decided that Sophie was right "Well I can definitely see why you wouldn't think he's a virgin" he had too much tendency to lie down in flat surfaces for one

"It gets worse"

"worse than taking a Bridgerton's first time?" Kate snorted

"well he may have proposed in the middle of sex" Sophie paused before adding " something about love at first sight"

"oh no, he's one of those romantic lunatics" Kate groaned covering her face with her hands "still..you're still wearing your mask !! He didn't even see your entire face, we can fix this"

" it's like he wants me to take responsibility for his virginity by marrying him" Sophie groaned "I'm not ready to get married Kate, I'm too young and too wild, to be tied down"

"and what am I supposed to do about it?" Kate wanted to help but really this sounded like a terrible mess " wait, if you spend the night with him, but you are here... did you just vanish from his bed while he took a nap?"

Sophie looked down and nodded "I'm hoping he'll wake up and think it was all a dream"

Kate was about to refute her when the kind voice of Penelope Featherington knocked on the door "good morning Kate, sorry for waking you up so early"

" Hi Penelope, if the Viscount is looking for Edwina please tell him she was indisposed last night so she slept in mother's room " Kate called out making a motion for Sophie to be quiet

"No, I'm looking for someone else actually, did you happen to see a five foot two blonde in a pink mask last night? A friend of mine is looking for her.... to return a glove"

Kate observed the very underdressed Sophie and guessed that it wasn't just a glove that needed to be returned. Infront of her Sophie was making a No no no motion with all her might

"Sorry Penelope, I don't know anyone who fits that description"

"Oh, that's quite all right, maybe we'll see her at noon, the person has to show up eventually right?" Penelope replied and soon left to knock on another door

It was so easy to forget how much of a Bridgerton Penelope Featherington was until things like these happened. Whenever Penelope subconsciously performed the duties of a sister in law to perfection one was reminded that she was the closest thing to a daughter in law that the family had. Kate and Sophie often wondered if the girl knew it

Being patient enough to wait for the globetrotter Bridgerton to propose must take the perseverance of a saint after all..

"Penelope is very observant, she won't take an excuse for long" Kate told Sophie quite seriously " so how do you plan to escape Benedict's proposal?"

Sophie seemed to think about it for a moment "what if I pretend to be your maid?"

------

This drabble is entirely based on the prompt " Sophie steals Benedict's virginity and panics when he demands she make an honest man out of him and take responsibility"

Featuring Kate as the sensible best friend who will now proceed to hide Sophie from Benedict and gaslight Anthony into believing he never invited Sophie to this house party.

And Penelope, the wallflower who seems not to know she's the designated Bridgerton sister in law.

Meanwhile Benedict is that dude who just wants to meet his Cinderella again, kiss her, marry her, and have a repeat of the masquerade night all over again

#bridgerton #Benophie #Benophie drabble #best friend kate #kate sharma #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #benedict x sophie

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iboatedhere · 1 year

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I just read Tim's comment, and – meh. It's one thing to read his ideas for this storyline, but a lot of what he's saying just didn't translate well onto screen, and we can only judge the finished product. Also not really a fan of the "if you don't like it, you can fuck off" attitude. If you put something out there, guess what, people are going to have feelings about it and comment on it. Especially if it's something we used to like very much and that suddenly feels different.

It's a swiss cheese plotline.

This gets long so:

He spent the first 90% of that comment justifying what happened in the past---which is not the part that anyone I've seen has a problem with and then follows it up with this doesn't have anything to do with TK which, I'm sorry, yes it does. It does when you decided to have Carlos be married when he accepted TK's proposal and only tell TK when his hand was forced. He's married, which is now stopping him and TK from being married. It has to do with TK when you have her walk out without signing the divorce papers, and leave him wondering if she will in time for him and Carlos to get married. When you send him to the shelter to talk to her. When you have Carlos blaming him for her going missing and then have Carlos being a dick to him all episode long. "Can't let go of bad relationship"....what does that even mean? Shooting daggers at him while he worked on Iris? Dude, c'mon.

He could have removed TK from this story. He could've dropped the marriage thing. He could've started with Iris going missing--Carlos found out about it at work or saw it on the news. That could've spurred the guilt plotline of him never checking up on her since she was found at the end of season 1. I could've bought that they were best friends all those years ago and now he's on a hunt to find her again. I could buy this kind of guilt and single minded focus as he throws everything he can into this investigation. I could see him pulling away from TK and the wedding planning because this is important to him, and TK doesn't know her and he doesn't understand what it's like to have someone you care about go missing, twice. He could still find her in that house, she could be okay, the detective still wouldn't believe her and Carlos would and he would go back out and get snatched by that serial killer and we'd be right where we are now without the slights to TK.

But to say that TK isn't involved in this, when his fiancé is married to someone else---whether it was legitimate or not--is just untrue.

To say that Carlos never thought about marrying TK until TK proposed.....They moved in together, they almost died together, he bought the loft for them---for their future--he sat there at TK's bedside after they were broken up for months, he listened to his mother call him the love of TK's life. And he never thought of marriage once? Except he had to have thought of something because Tim even said the only time he thought he could have more was when he first saw TK in the honky tonk that night....what more is he talking about?

Also to say that they just got engaged? After they've been touring venues? He said he thought he had more time, he thought he had 18 months, so clearly he'd been thinking of this. Suddenly it was cut to 8 weeks so he had to make a move. Even Andrea was surprised he hadn't told TK yet so this has been cooking for awhile.

I would honestly be okay with this plot---with Carlos having flaws--because he's human and of course he's not perfect--we saw in 3x13 that he's not perfect---if they were being viewed as flaws but they're not. By the end of 3x13 we saw some serious growth when he put aside his pride and his need to control and called Cooper because that's what TK needed. Currently, Tim has heaped on a mountain of questionable backstory with zero growth. Maybe it'll still happen. Maybe he'll have a dream conversation with Andrea like TK had with Gwyn last season and he'll see the light. I'm not gonna hold my breath, but I'm still hoping this will be resolved in a way that makes sense.

At the end of the day, he's holding onto this idea he had in season 1, cut for time, and then is expecting us all to roll with it two seasons later. There's no there-there. There's nothing on the show that we can look at and go oh yeah that makes sense. You threw this random plot in because he couldn't just kill his darling and move on. He could have had a successful variation of this. He still could have made this work. But he was stubborn and needed to have it this way, and he can do that. It is his show, they are his characters, but when the fans, the people that have watched this show from the start and care about it and the characters have some questions about it, I think that's legit.

But I'm also a big fan of never talking to the actors or creators about it. Talk shit in your own time, in your own space. You would never catch me dead leaving Tim a comment on Facebook of all places.

#it's a new day---bring on the hate mail #ask #hater time #although I genuinely don't think I'm hating here

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safetycar-restart · 1 year

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Small dick Charles (because lately it's been haunting my mind) but I'm making it angsty (because I feel like torturing our boy) (also thank you for making me Charles angst anon, I'm honored and I'm not gonna let you down 🫡)

So we know that most previous partners weren't good for Charles. They made fun of him or left him as soon as they found out about his little dick. And because of that he was insecure. But you showed him that he doesn't have to be. Of course he can pleasure himself and (what is most important for him) he can pleasure you and be a good boy for you. The size of his cock doesn't matter here. And he finally starts to believe you and understand that he is enough just the way he is. He accepts himself, although he needs a lot of praise and compliments from you. But it's okay, anything for your boy.

That's until one of the race weekends. Charles is standing in the circle with few other drivers and they're talking. They're immature kids, so of course they talk about sex. Charles is rather silent because he doesn't like to share this part of his life. You're his mommy and everything you do to him stays with him. Why would someone else listen about it?

"And why are you silent Charles? That's because you can't pleasure your mommy with your small dick?" (they know that he is small, it's just visible that there's no bulge in his jeans or fireproofs)

George is the first one who bring up the topic and then others go on with it. They're making fun of him, asking if he's able to do anything with his cock, if he can penetrate you or is he too small. And they think that these are just jokes (very cruel ones), but not for Charles. They may not know it, but Charles takes it very personally. And he is so sad because why are they doing this to him? He thought that they're friends, so they shouldn't hurt him. It hurts twice as much because they're laughing at something Charles has no control over. He just can't change it. Of course he would like to have a bigger cock but he can't. And just as he was finally beginning to accept himself, someone showed up to destroy it again.

When Charles gets to you he isn't just crying, he is fully sobbing his heart out, throwing himself in your arms. And you hold him through this, try to be strong but you can't help sadness flooding you. Your poor little boy, you feel so sorry for him. Because he suffers so much from something over which he has no control. And now all because of his called friends. Great. The only thing you can do it now is The only thing you can do now is offer him your closeness and rebuild his confidence again. It's gonna be hard, but again - anything for your boy.

(And quite by accident you can tell Lando, George and Alex's doms about this situation, hoping that they will be punished for hurting your boy)

- 🪸

I am already regretting naming you the Charles angst anon, but I suppose that's exactly what I should have expected from the Charles angst anon, so keep up the good work!!

Firstly, I love the idea that Charles gets his confidence because he realises he can make you feel good? He LOVES going down on you, it's legitimately his favourite thing ever. It takes him a long time to actually fuck you, because he's terrified that you won't even feel him (which is what a partner had told him once and it absolutely devastated him).

But honestly, you like his size. Sure you've had bigger before, but you like it. You never hurt the next day, and don't require too much prep. Above all else, it's Charles. He's your good boy, and you're his mommy. How could he be anything other than perfect?

It takes him a long time to accept that he can actually make you feel good, that he's good enough for his mommy. And even once he has accepted that, his confidence can still be shattered instantly.

But he's doing better. Genuinely, he's doing so much better.

Until one race weekend when he's chatting with everyone. Maybe they just finished a media conference or something? So they're all standing around and chatting, waiting for their respective teams to come fetch them.

They're all subs, and so naturally they tend to talk about it. Usually Charles doesn't mind it too much, he just nods and will occasionally share some information of his own. That's why they all know he calls you mommy.

But truth be told, he doesn't like sharing his sex life with anyone, even his friends who are also subs. It's not that he's ashamed of it, because of course he isnt. It's just... that's between him and his mommy? He belongs to his mommy. No one else gets to see that side of him, and he doesn't want anyone else to know anything about what he does with his mommy.

Today they're chatting about what it's like when they fuck their Doms, about how it happens and why.

Charles isnt engaging in the conversation at all. He's only recently started fucking you and he doesn't want anyone else to know about that.

But his friends notice he hasn't said anything and decide to tease him, asking if he's too small to fuck his mommy. Instantly Charles wants to run away, but his friends are just joking and don't actually know he has a small member, so if he runs then they'll know for sure that he actually does.

Everyone joins in and they all start joking about him having a small dick. Poor Charles just feels so broken. Why are they being so mean to him? Why won't they just move on?

His friends think they're just having fun, but Charles is breaking inside. They're poking fun at his biggest insecurity and they haven't even bothered to notice how upset it's making him.

Eventually he manages to escape them and then he just runs to you.

Even though he feels like every moment he's made you feel good has been a lie, he still wants his mommy. He wants love and comfort and to be held tight.

You've never seen your good boy so upset, and he fully sobs in your arms. He can't even get the words out. You have no idea what's happened yet, but you're panicking because Ferrari will be looking for Charles soon and he's in no state to be in public right now.

So you just comfort him as best you can, holding him right and rubbing his back. Eventually he manages to calm down enough to speak, and then your heart just breaks.

Even though they didnt know Charles actually did have a small dick, why would they tease him about that? Who does that?

Poor Charles has his confidence utterly shattered.

The night before he was smily and giggly as he was grinding against you, shameless in showing you he was horny and hard. But the next night he takes his clothes into the bathroom to get changed after he showers, not even wanting you to see him get changed.

You have to build his confidence back up, praising him and promising him that you are so happy with him. You have to be slow with it, careful not to push him too hard.

But he gets there, because he's your good boy and you're his mommy. He must trust whatever his mommy tells him.

And his mommy is telling him that he's the best boy ever.

#sub!charles #cl #nsfw.#f!reader #SD!Charles

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