#And he grows up to have a son that he and his wife wrote to 3 times a week during his first year

[lexirosewrites]

Kinda sorta sleeping beauty AU EPILOGUE

Later, Steve would push the doors of the keep open as if they'd never been locked. Then he began to explain to the gathering townsfolk the whole of the story. He explained tht his father had met a woman who lived within the lake, they fell in love & they both wished for her to join him on the land as his wife. Together they made a bargain with something ancient below the water, they were told tht while the wish for legs & land & air would b granted his father would have to lose something precious to the water every full moon.

For 3 years the lord would feed the lake jewels, books, rare wines, anything he could reasonably deem precious. Till his mother became pregnant w him, and he was born upon a full moon in midsummer. Then his mother faded away till she died peacefully by the following full moon.

She left behind her husband, her infant son, and a shining silver dagger she'd brought w her from the lake as a dowry. Her funeral involved her being set off floating across the water in the boat he'd use when she was still living in the water.

Steve went on to explain he'd begun hearing the lake call to him in his sleep upon his 10th year & the next full moon as his father walked on his way to feed the lake a bolt of silk he'd found Steve walking in a trance nearly out the doors of the keep. From tht night onwards he'd spend every full moon guarded within his room. He was never locked in, but the guards were instructed to keep him from wandering out of the keep. Robin had been his handmaid, & when the month tht his father was ill resulted in no one guarding his door she’d followed him all the way to the lake.

Robin then interjected tht when they'd got to the lake she'd tried to stop him from getting in the water by running ahead into it herself. Only to b grabbed & nearly pulled under till Steve sang for her deep within his trance. He sang for her to fly away from the water & follow her heart wherever it may lead.

"You were always my platonic soulmate, of course I stayed." Robin wiped away her own tears before the two hugged where they sat beside the large fireplace of the keeps main hall roaring with warmth.

Steve continued the story, he only ever saw Robin as a bird unless it was the days leading to a full moon. Then they'd meet as secretly as they could & plan for Steve to run away from the lake. But then his 19th birthday was on a full moon & the party went late into the night. So late in fact tht by the time everyone had gone abed no one had noticed the young omega walk through town to the water.

His father barely managed to reach the dock in time to watch Steve float away on the row boat tht had taken his mother's body away. As his father cried & begged the lake to spare his only son, the product of his parents impossible love, the lake answered.

His son would sleep in a peaceful dream, protection would grow around him as he slept, & tht one day a knight not trained in fighting would overcome trials set by the lake. So his father left tht night, wrote a message upon the parchment, & tacked it to the door w the silver dagger his wife left behind telling him before her death tht it'd b instrumental in bringing their son home.

So Steve dreamed, the island grew up from the lake overnight, & for over 100 years Steve dreamed abt an alpha w dark curls & a King's Favor & a scent like the spice of burning cedar logs. He dreamed till suddenly he awoke from the scent being stronger than ever before, & he awoke warm within Eddie's arms.

Much later, two years in fact, Eddie had used his wish to make Nancy Wheeler the new lord of Loch Nora & he'd then traveled wherever he could w his beautiful mate. Showing Steve the world after 100 years had been joyous.

Now though, their wandering of the world was coming to an end. Steve had enjoyed singing w his mate in front of many audiences, but they were now settling in a sizable home in the village of Forest Hills where Wayne was their nearest neighbor, far far away from the lake.

Eddie would write a song tht would survive the test of centuries, a lullaby tht he sang every night to every one of their children ever since his Steve, his dream, told him for the first time they were to have a pup.

[That's all folks! I didn't feel like making an entire post abt this whole thing because my Bewitched By Yuletide Part 2 drabble will b posted today]

all wrapped up tidy with a bow on top 🎀

***links to come later because tumblr is acting up and won’t let me add hyperlinks right now***

(link to part one, part two, part three)

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Reading the epilogue in Harry potter makes me so emotional when I think of Harry's first journey when he was 11. The juxtaposition gets me so bad. That little boy had no idea he would have a loving family. A loving family with the girl he had met on the day of that very journey, no less!

[myladysapphire]

Seduction

you had always longed to be queen but with your brother Aegon married to your twin sister you had lost hope, but upon your nephews return to the keep you realise all hope of being queen isn't lost. there was just one problem: your mother would never agree to marriage between you and Jace. So you set in motion a plan of seduction.

based of this request

word count: 2,182

CW: MDI 18+,smut,p in v, incest, not proofread!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

Masterlist

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: i may have used maergery tyrell as an inspiration for reader.

Growing up in the red keep you had long been surrounded by snakes eagerly vying at the iron throne, doing everything in their power to win more favour and a higher station.

You had hated them.

The false niceties, the fake smiles and the false companions who only desired a potential match between one of your brothers.

But what you hated the most about them, was that you were the same, or at least your ambitions were.

All your life you had desired one thing: to be queen of the seven kingdoms.

As the second born, you had hoped to marry Aegon, and with your mother and grandsires plots to one day make him king, it seemed as if being queen one day was only natural for you. But when he married your younger twin Heleana instead of you, the dream of becoming queen became just that.

And with no reason to support any claim your brother had, you set your sights to your elder sister, Rhaenyra.  She had always been kind to you and Heleana, though you had never been too close. But it seemed she was now the only way for you to fulfil what you so deeply desired.

You knew your father would back her as heir no matter how many sons he sired with your mother, and so you realised you too had to support her claim, and then, and only then could you be queen, of course only if you marry her eldest first.

You had planted the idea in her head.

With Jace’s silly crush on you and you yourself hinting on how it would unite the family.

But your mother had rejected Rhaenrya’s suggestion.

And even know years after, you knew she would reject any suggestion of a betrothal between you both once more.

Instead, she favoured a marriage between you and one of the great lords of Westeros.

And even though you would still have a high status, and vast lands and riches, you would not be queen.

And no matter what, you would not settle for anything less.

You desired to be loved as a queen, to have the small folk lore and worship you, it was all you dreamed off. Not to rule, but to be loved by the masses.

You wished for songs and tales to be written of you, for many to compare you to the good queen Alysanne.

And, whilst you had focused your attentions on smallfolk, insisting spare food and leftovers be sent out to the smallfolk. Spent days in orphanages, commissioning the building of schools and healers’ offices.

You gathered up the love of the smallfolk, and though you were gifted the name of the ‘lady of the smallfolk’ and the ‘realms love’ it still wasn’t enough.

 You had plenty of lords vying for your attention, many from great and rich houses.

But none could give you what you wanted.  

That was until your nephews returned to the keep.

In your youth had ignored your plain-featured nephews, finding little in common with them and only seeing a potential marriage with Jace as a means to an end.

Perhaps that was why you had sent him letters throughout the years, claiming that you were egar to know your nephew and hated that he left before you could become close.

You wrote often, finding many things in common, and suddenly the idea of marrying Jace became a little more than just wanting to become queen.

You had grown to rather like your nephew, and now with his return to the red keep all you wanted now was not just be queen, but his wife.

There was one problem, however.

One being that Your mother would never betroth you willingly to him.  She had refused it before, seeing Jace as a bastard and unfit for her daughter.

But from the look he sent you as you greeted him, dragging him around the castle insisting on catching up.

And from the nonstop wondering eyes at his younger brothers hearing, you were sure she wouldn’t be an obstacle for much longer.

As you walked into the courtyard to greet him and his family, Jace thought to himself that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

His eyes were drawn to you so naturally, and the smile you had sent him had been warm and kind. A look he scarcely received in these halls.

The way you had talked to him, telling him how deeply you treasured his letters, how dearly you had missed him.

You seemed so perfect, and gods would he do anything to marry you.

He had stared at you nonstop, and yet found no words to say to you. Even when you had walked the hall of the keep together. You had talked to him no stop, smiling so beautifully.

He had only stared and blushed. Unsure of what to say or do.

And now at dinner, you had walked in in a black gown. The dress itself was the image of your houses, covered in black dragon scales, and with no sleeves, instead arm rings in the shape of dragon wings, mimicking a sleeve, down both your arms.  A deep v neckline, draped with a red scarf across one shoulder down to your waist, accentuating both your hips and breasts.

You were the very image of Targaryen beauty.

He couldn’t take his eyes of you. Even more so when you sat beside him, your legs brushing together.

You had smiled at him yet again, moving close to him as you talked to him.

His eyes were glued to your lips, watching as they moved to speak to him and those around you.

He had said little words to reply to your questions, only blushing whenever you spoke to him.

Then you had left, fanning you were tired and that you would escort the king back to his chambers before going to your own.

He had been sad you had left, with no longer your lips to stare at, or just your company to bask in.

Though he was glad you were not here to witness the infighting, his weak punch towards your brother Aemond, the mocking he had faced.

He had returned to is room in defeat, after facing a scolding from his mother and being sent to bed early like a child.

He entered his chambers, head down, kicking the door closed behind him in anger.  He didn’t look up as he entered, instead choosing to ready himself for bed.

If he had he would have seen, you.

Laying naked on his bed.

You laughed to yourself, biting you lip as he faced away from you.

He jumped at the sound of your laugh, moving his clothes to quickly cover himself.

“Aunt?” he started, blushing as he took in your naked form. He turned from you, covering his eyes. “I- what are you doing?”

You laughed again, standing up and walking over to him, “isn’t it obvious, my prince?”

He stuttered; eyes still covered “this is in appropriate I should- “

You shushed him, grabbing his arm and turning him to face you “leave your own chambers?” you teased “why is something wrong with me being here?”

“I-no, no I like that you’re here but… your- naked!” he stuttered out.

You nodded, “so it appears I am”.

“Would you like some clothes?”

“Why? Am I not pleasing to you, my prince?” you asked, moving back and turning slowly to show off your body to him.

“no-no- I mean yes! YIs, very pleasing but this is inappropriate” “is it?” you teased, “why? Do you wish for me to go? Perhaps I should get one of the guards, so that we are not alone” you said, making your way to the door.

“No!” he said a little too loudly. “don’t, I- why are you here?”

You smiled, moving towards him once again. “I have missed you, Jace” you said, your face inches away from his, “you have grown so handsome, so…so kingly” you mouth now inches from his, “and I wished to give you a gift” he swallowed, “a gift?”

You nodded, humming, before placing your lips on his.

Your lips moved slowly against his, he was unsure, inexperienced. The kiss was slow and soft. It was short, though your breaths were both heavy as you pulled apart.  

“Yes, Jace, a gift” you said, pulling your lips from his and reaching for his hand.

“Was that the gift?”

“Some of it” you said, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist. “Did you know your mother planned to betroth us when we were younger?” he shook his head, “I was to be your wife, and now…we will soon be betrothed to others and I cannot have that, Jace” you breathed.

“Really?” he said, voice rough, his hands were both your waist, squeezing your hips softly, as if finally realising why you were naked.

‘Yes, for so long I dreamt of being your wife… I would even touch myself to the thought of you, of us”.

His breath was heavy, “you…you wish to give yourself to me?”

You answered him with another kiss, this one passionate, needy.

Pushing him down onto the bed, straddling him.

“I wish to be your wife, Jace” you breathed against his lips.

“You do?” he breathed, moving to kiss you once more, “but I am already betrothed,”

You looked down sadly, “I... Do not remind me, it pains me so”.

He sighed your name, “is that why you came here? To sleep with me so we must marry”.

“Oh, you must think me horrible” you said, moving to stand from his lap, only for him to pull you back down onto him.

“No, no not at all…I, I would be lying if I said I had never desired to marry you, but- “

“But nothing, my sweet prince” you said, moving in to kiss him once more, if he wished to marry you also, then this was only even more perfect.

Your seduction almost unneeded.

But gods did you want him.

He moaned, into your mouth, his hands desperately gripping your waist, before hesitantly moving up to cup your breasts.

You let out a moan as he gave them a tentative squeeze, before moving to roll your nipples between his fingers.

He was moved slowly, testing out what you liked, and egar to learn what made you moan.

You yourself started to kiss down his neck as he played with your breasts. Your hips still slowly grinding against.

His cock had grown hard beneath you.

His groans increasing as you continued to grind against him.

Your wet cunt coating his cock, her entrance teasing him with each movement of her hips.

“please” he begged, unsure of what exactly what he was begging for.

You stood up from his lap and pushed him to lie down on the bed.

You smiled as you took him in. his pretty face, full of lust and desire. The want clear on his face.

“Wait!” he said stooping you, as you crawled over his body, positioning your entrance above his long hard cock.

“Yes?” you sighed; breath heavy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“of course, you want us to marry, yes?” he nodded, “and my mother would never approve of it unless…unless we give ourselves to one another.”

“Gods…I, I- your right” he said, reaching up to kiss you as he finally filled you. His cock stretching you out in a way you didn’t know possible. The pleasure near overwhelming.

You both moaned as he fully entered you.

“Gods!” he moaned, his hands going to grip your waist.

Your hands rested on his chest, preparing to move as you finally adjusted to his length.

Slowly you began to move your hips, trying to slowly build a rhythm and find what you both liked.

But it seemed the shy unsure Jace you had been witnessed to all night faded, as Jace gripped your hips and started to thrust up into you.

He set a fast past, and though you tried to keep up, Jace soon flipped you and instead started thrusting into you. His hips moved hard and fast, your moans were loud as you got lost in the pleasure.

Jace had buried himself in your neck, holding onto you as he thrusted into you.

Both of your peaks were fast approaching.

You felt his cock pulse inside of you as you clenched around him.

Moaning his name as you came, before he picked up the face, fulling your face to his as he came, filling you with his seed.

He collapsed on you, his breath heavy.

“Gods, that was…incredible” he smiled, reaching up to kiss you once more. “now all that’s left is for us to get married” he joked, pulling you in for a hug.

And from the scream of the maid as she came to wake Jace up in the morning, she was sure that in no time news would reach their mothers, and they would be wed.

And she would get everything she ever desired.

authors note: i hate this ending! there is so much i wanted to say but i just couldnt word it correclty, but i hope you all enjoyed it!

taglist

@now-i-have-a-new-obsession @apollonshootafar @flrboyd @zillahvathek @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @clobo @aegonswife

to be added to taglist

[5sospenguinqueen]

Just Another - Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Fernando and his wife live busy lives between their children, his races and her music. That doesn't mean they don't find time to themselves

Warnings: Fluff. Suggestive comment. Pregnancy

Requested: Yes by anon

F1 Masterlist

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fernandoalo_official just posted

liked by aussiegrit, lance_stroll and others

fernandoalo_official home races are always special but more so when mi familia are in the garage. we shall give it our all tomorrow 🇪🇸💛 #españa

3,314 comments

yn_alonso can we have that wall in our bedroom

→ fernandoalo_official no but i will get it put in your studio

→ yn_alonso my muse 💛

landonorris mini alonso’s!! nobody told me they were in the paddock

→ fernandoalo_official because you fed them too much sugar last time and i got into trouble 

user i love when we get glimpses of the alonso family

→ user yes! it’s so rare. like, i appreciate that they’re private but something about dad nando does things for me

→ yn_alonso same 

→ user baby #3 incoming? 

liked by fernandoalo_official 

lance_stroll my weekends are so much calmer when yn is in the garage 

→ astonmartinf1 same. tour ends when?

→ yn_alonso is he still terrorising you?

→ fernandoalo_official no! 

→ user aha, admin begging yn to stop being famous in her own right so that nando behaves

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yn_alonso just posted

liked by kellypiquet, lewishamilton and others

yn_alonso thank you, london 🇬🇧 british crowds are always the loudest

4,416 comments

fernandoalo_official you performed beautifully, mi corazón

→ yn_alonso because i had my biggest supporter in the crowd

→ user you mean to tell me that fernando is supposed to be racing at silverstone tomorrow but stayed up late to watch his wife perform?

→ user and you can guarantee, she’ll be up early to go to the paddock with him

→ yn_alonso that’s love, darlings 

lewishamilton thank you for inviting me. always an honour to see you perform

→ user yn and xnda collab when? 

charles_leclerc alex says thank you for inviting her

→ yn_alonso with how loud she was singing along, she is allowed always 

→ alexandrasaintmleux i think i’ve died 

user we were near where fernando, lewis and charles were. and the way fernando stared up at her

→ user omg yes. i got a video of him when she was singing the love song she wrote for him. i swear he didn’t blink once

user i love that they’re a secret couple but i also need more alonso family content

user anyone else think they fucked up the lighting for her concert? couldn't see the bottom half of her

→ user she wasn’t dancing as much either? 

→ francisca.cgomes she actually did an amazing job

liked by yn_alonso

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fernandoalo_official just posted

liked by jensonbutton, sebastianvettel and others

fernandoalo_official how is my youngest bebé four. they grow so fast. feliz cumpleaños, hijo mio. we celebrate at his favourite place in the world #disneyland

3,281 comments

user you mean his favourite place isn’t the AMF1 factory? 

→ astonmartinf1 or the paddock?

user whoa, you mean his favourite race car isn’t #14?

lance_stroll but he said his favourite place was my garage the other week

→ astonmartinf1 and to think, we let him sit in the car

yn_alonso well done, mi amour, you’ve upset the world of f1 by admitting that our son’s favourite race car is lightning mcqueen

→ fernandoalo_official i didn’t realise everyone would take it so personally 

→ yn_alonso now you know how i felt when our eldest said his favourite singer was gloria estefan 

aussiegrit the boys are growing so fast. looks like he had an amazing day

→ fernandoalo_official he said his favourite present was the remote control lightning mcqueen from uncle mark

→ jensonbutton but uncle jenson got him an electric ferrari?

→ user uncle mark and uncle jenson!!! 

→ yn_alonso the true loves of fernando’s life

liamlawson30 this is a party i can get behind 

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yn_alonso just posted

liked by estebanocon, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yn_alonso unfortunately, there won’t be a tour with this one so i’m cooking a few new songs… with a helper, of course 

5,533 comments

user wait, what does she mean no tour?! 

→ user apparently she’s taking a break :( 

charles_leclerc i see he’s putting uncle charlie's piano lessons to good use

→ yn_alonso he might end up replacing you on the backing track

→ charles_leclerc the student outshines the master 😧

astonmartinf1 hang on, i thought we were teaching him to drive an f1 car, not become an international music star 

→ yn_alonso you’ve already taken my eldest, and you’re swaying my youngest but i’m still fighting 

→ fernandoalo_official that’s why we need another

→ user omg he wants another baby! 

→ yn_alonso well done, mi vida

user so we’re not going to see her at zandvoort this weekend?

→ user holding out hope that this is a pre-scheduled post

→ user tbf, she’s about to have 3 weeks of nando so perhaps she’s soaking up some quiet time before he’s home 

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astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by lance_stroll, pierregasly and others

astonmartinf1 the alonso’s have entered the paddock #dutchgp

1,814 comments

fernandoalo_official and she’s looking beautiful doing it

→ yn_alonso flatterer 

user yay! yn is here

→ user she was defo trying to trick us by making us think she was back home in spain recording 

user okay but the blue dress is gorgeous 

user she makes fernando look like just some guy 

liked by fernandoalo_official 

yn_alonso it’s nice to see how much i was wanted here

→ fernandoalo_official you’re always wanted by me, mi amor

→ yn_alonso yeah, that’s the problem

→ user ummm? i can’t tell if they’re being raunchy 

→ user well, they do have two kids only a year apart 

lance_stroll i can already hear a more peaceful weekend settling upon me

user i swear that’s a bump

→ user you can barely see her front?

→ user i’m telling you, from other angles, she has a bump

→ user nurse, she got out again

user she spent the entire weekend hiding in his garage?? what was the point in coming?

→ user maybe because she comes to watch her husband, not parade around for your pleasure 

yn_alonso posted a new story

alexandrasaintmleux replied (pic 2) yes but you look so pretty  → ynalo_private don’t let charles get you pregnant → it seems like a great idea at first until you reach the final trimester alexandrasaintmleux replied (pic 3) omg you had her! → congratulations, yn. how’re you feeling? → i can’t wait to meet her

lance_stroll replied (pic 1) why do you insist on making fernando alonso thirst traps cross my instagram? → ynalo_private because you follow me and i love my husband  → and i repost all the ones fans make to show my support  → lance_stroll when is he retiring? → ynalo_private never lance_stroll replied (pic 3) baby girl alonso is here! and this is how i found out!  → ynalo_private in my defence, i just had a baby. critical thinking is not my strong suit right now → and this is how we told everyone 

charles_leclerc replied le bébé! oh, félicitations to you and fernando → how are you feeling? she looks beautiful

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fernandoalo_official just posted

liked by scuderiaferrari, lance_stroll and others

fernandoalo_official autumn break brings some new changes to mi familia 💛

11,331 comments

aussiegrit congratulations, mate. such a beautiful family

→ yn_alonso they’re looking forward to uncle mark joining us for family dinner on sunday, yes?

→ aussiegrit yes, ma’am. i’ll be there

jensonbutton a huge congratulations from brittny and i. we can’t wait to meet the newest member of the alonso family 

kimimatiasraikkonen congratulations

lewishamilton beautiful family 🫶🏾

landonorris was your weekend in paris spent with him trying to convince you to have baby #4?

→ fernandoalo_official who let you have access to your accounts again?

→ landonorris so yes

→ danielricciardo mate, you basically just told the world they spent a weekend away shagging

→ yn_alonso and thank you for that, daniel. you’re both off my christmas card list 

→ landonorris wait, no. we’ve not met baby girl yet!

user excuse me, is he trying to sneak in a whole extra child?

→ user we didn't even know she was pregnant!

→ user clearly yn loves dad nando as much as we do 😏

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Requests are open. Carlos Sainz has joined the mix

[im-subtextsexual]

I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense. 

First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.

*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*

In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay. 

*Imagine*

Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that���s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.

Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).

Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).

After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.

Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.

The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.

Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.

[sinizade]

A little family tree about Izveta and Astarion because I recently discovered that vampires in D&D can have children...

The appearance and what is written about Astarion's parents is just a headcanon created by me, I keep in mind that they never found their son and ended up dying over the years since the game does not mention anything connected abt Astarion's family.

I never wrote about Izveta's father, but basically he was a quiet man and obedient to his wife even though she was extremely aggressive towards him. She killed him a few years after adopting Izveta when he tried to get rid of the girl after overhearing her talking to Sceleritas.

The day that Sarevok had mentioned in his letter arrived and Izveta could no longer think rationally, she wanted children, she needed children and so it was done... Twins with Bhaal's blood, a boy and a girl who, since they were born, already had an aptitude for magic, Belgos and Amalicia or as the people in Baldur's Gate call them "Cursed Children.

Even though they were children of a Vampire Lord and a Bhaalspawn, Belgos and Amalicia did not grow up in a troubled home, quite the contrary, Astarion and Izveta had plans for their children and being bad parents was not one of those plans. The children were loved to the extreme and no one would dare try to hurt any of them, also because no one would be crazy enough to try.

I like to think that Astarion would be a drooling father, you can see in the game that even though he tries to pretend otherwise, he loves children. I think he would remove ALL of Cazador's paintings and decorations and fill the entire castle with paintings of Elbos, Amalicia and Izveta, every hallway and room would have at least two paintings of them so that everyone could see the GREAT family he and Izveta built together

Amalicia is defiant, she took this a lot from her mother, she always wants to go out when she shouldn't, she always wants to fight with people who shouldn't, Astarion and Izveta often had to solve many of the problems she caused, whether with Astarion's vampire spawns or with some hunters she provoked when she ran away from the Castle. Even with all the problems she causes, Amalicia is still a child and many times she just wants to play.

Elbos is a calm and affectionate boy unlike his sister and is almost always seen hiding behind Astarion and Izveta's legs. He likes rats and keeps some pets hidden in his room as Astarion makes a point of banning any rats inside his castle. .

Amalicia and Elbos' relationship tends to be the basic one for children their age, they fight and then go back to playing together, but sometimes they both seem to be far away from where they are, as if they were listening to something... Or someone...

Btw, if you are a hunter or a mercenary with a functional brain and love for life, you N E V E R try to hurt the children of a Bhaalspawn and a Vampire Lord... They will do really bad things to you

[blingblong55]

Happiness -Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo Credits: @ave661

---- F!Reader, angst, divorce, ex-husband!Simon, dad!Simon ----

A/N: Blaming the talented writers on here that wrote on ex-husband!Simon a while back for this

Ten years, eight of them lived as his wife and four of them as the mother to his child. Now, you and he sit on the stools of the kitchen island, tears in both your eyes as you two come to terms that your marriage is over. No one cheated, no one was toxic but the one thing that they couldn't see coming was that sometimes, love runs out. He and you stopped doing all the cute stuff together, it became stale and dead. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, holding your hand as you look down crying. "I guess it happens," you whisper back. But it shouldn't have. Not to you and not to him. 

You were supposed to grow old together, watch your child grow old, measure his height by the door frame, and watch Simon give his advice for when your son gets his first girlfriend. It was a plan, to sit by the fireplace when you'd both enter your fifties, reminisce on the past and laugh at the cringe things you both did when young. "I'll make sure the divorce goes smooth, I'll...find a place and visit every day. I swear to be the best at...co-parenting," he says with care. "I know, Simon," you grip his hand. 

It's a bittersweet moment, nearly five years ago, you sat him down in this exact place and held his hand with teary eyes as you told him you were pregnant. "Oh...oh my love, I'm going to be a dad!" The kiss he gave you knowing romance films would never compare to that kiss. Now, as you sit in silence, you can't help but cry a different kind of tears. Ten years of your life spent with him spent loving and getting to know him. They say, that to love is to know someone and you know and love him very well so, that is how you find yourself hugging him. Simon's hold on you is so hard yet filled with sadness and care. 

"I love you!" you laugh as you run around the sofa. Simon chasing you and laughing. He had started it, the 'I love you more' competition and when you whispered, 'I love you best' he began to tickle you. "If you say I win, I'll stop tickling you," he laughs. "Never!" your laughter loud as you try and push him off. "Very well then, lovely," he chuckles. After one push, that is where you find yourself running around the home you built with him. 

As you walk past the now cold sofa, you picture that night. Picture the mornings, days, afternoons and midnights where he and you kissed, cuddled, shared secrets, tears and laughs. What a sour taste did it bring to you. "I'll always love you," you whisper to the memory. Simon is out the door and on the road, finding someplace to stay for the night. In moments like these, he would seek for you but now, he must learn to be strong without you, something rather hard. 

[6 Months later]

A knock on your door as Simon comes to pick up your son. "It's opened!" you call out from the kitchen. His little boy, running to the door and smiling. "Daddy!" the young boy smiles and reaches for him, the image in front of you, melting your heart as you watch father and son share a moment. Your heart aches. Why didn't you fight? Cry and beg for him to think it through? No, but you want him to be happy and if he was unhappy in your marriage then you can't for him to stay or love you. 

It's been nine days since the divorce was finalised, you nor he told any of your friends. Kept it all to yourselves and went through grief alone. You drink wine alone in the afternoons now, he watches shit comedy specials alone. And when either of you turns to the side he or you occupied, the feeling comes back. No more shit-talking about the comedian, no more asking for another glass of wine. What if he is someone you'll never move on from? What if you're someone he never mentions? 

What if you two were blind and it wasn't that love ran out?

Fuck...why must this hurt.

"R/N, y'alright?" his voice interrupts you. 

No, I'm not and I miss you like never before. I miss your kisses, your whispers and your dirty jokes. I miss your mornings, I miss our mornings. Love me, please...please love me. 

"Yeah, sorry, I was just trying to remember my schedule today," your voice soft. He nods, "Yeah, well, me and the lad will be out. Call you if needed and call me if you need me." He says before leaving through the door. "Mm-hmm," you play bravely and watch him leave. As you sit on the sofa, you cry. You can't let him leave, not when you have poems, love letters and sweet nothings to tell him. Not when you still want to share your life with him. You walk to the door and go for the handle but hesitate. 

What if he moved on? What if he loves another?

[Simon's POV]

I step out, buckle my kid in and as I hear him laugh, I remember his second favourite toy is still in her home. Will she let me back in? Can she?... Now I'm wondering if she ever cared. Why did I fight for her? Why must I let her leave so easily? What if my love finds some man who tries to play house with my son and my girl? No, fuck that it won't happen. As I reach for her front door, I stop. My R/N, why must you feel so far and yet feel so close to me? 

Don't be stupid, she probably moved on. It's been six months, surely she is fine. But if she isn't? Then, I can still be the shoulder she leans on, I can be the chest she cries in, "Daddy, let's go!" Fuck, that's right. 

On the drive to the park, my mind wanders to her. Her smile, the way she was insecure of the stretch marks but she would fluster when I kissed them. Ten years ago, I met her in this park, kissed her here, walked with her here when she was pregnant and watched our son take his first steps here. Now, I walk with my son but not with her by my side. A woman approaches, me, we talk and soon after I leave. R/N must be home or out. I wonder if she still sings her makeup steps when getting ready. 

Does she still remember how I kissed her? How did my body feel against hers? I wonder if she misses me like how I miss her. Does she want to kiss me? Get back together? I hope no other guy wins her heart like I did. I hope no guy knows she loves to be kissed when her favourite song comes up and how she loves it when dirty jokes are told to her in whispers. I hope no guy watches her dance in a dress and adores her, those curves she got when she became a mother, the smile and the laugh when she gets nervous. 

I wonder if she knows I know her better than anyone. That my love beats any movie on the screen. I read all her favourite books so she'd think I was cool or that I read them to do the things the characters did and watch her fall for me more. Why didn't I tell her that day that I wasn't falling out of love but rather I was scared she would leave me? Fuck..

"Simon?" her delicate voice. If the heavens could speak, she would be the voice of them. "Sorry, I..." tell her you fool! Tell her you love her, that you miss her lips, her wit, her clumsiness and how she gives you a puppy stare when she can't reach the top shelf. "Yeah...uh, I forgot his...uh...his other toy and he has been asking about it." FUCKING COWARD!

[Your POV]

It was earlier than expected but he brought your son home earlier than usual. "I'll go get it for you," you say and walk upstairs. Meanwhile, he looks at the photos at the entrance. What were once photos of you three are now you and your son. "Here it is," you say as you hand him the toy. "Thanks, love," he mumbles as he leaves once more. Before you can close the door, "Simon?" your voice with hope. "Yes?" he turns around, a faint smile on him. Oh those eyes, his beautiful eyes. "...drive safe..." you want to mentally slap yourself. "Yes, love," he nods and walks back to his car. 

To build a home, to walk away and to miss it. Simon Joseph Riley and R/N...formally R/N Riley, now miss home. A home that was found in each other's arms. 

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[first-edition]

if you still take requests and ofc if you're willing to, could you please do a one shot of sandor clegane x f reader with lactation kink? like they're married & he survived (post got) and have children - type of scenario?🤍

OFCOURSE omg. Firstly thank you to @dat1angel aka my bestie for helping me figure this out as I’ve never wrote a lactation kink fic before but it was fun.

MINORS DNI

Cw- pinv unprotected, fem reader, pregnant reader, lactation kink, consumption of human milk, Husband a wife ,mother and father , with little plot, not proof reader sorry for any error as usual i write this shit at 3 am usually lol.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

Sandor holds your waist as you grind against him. His cock has been buried in your cunt for over an hour and just being able to watch you riding him is enough to keep him hard and cum better than he ever has.

You’ve had the greatest honor in giving him two sons both of which are old enough to be riding thier own horses and exploring the village under the supervision of the guards you have at the castle and that is where they are now. Exploring the village as the festival goes on.

You’ve become pregnant with sanders third child only a few months ago your belly every growing as you prepare to give birth once again. Sandro cannot help the fact that he is utterly obsessed with your plump state. How you flesh grows softer and your body becomes rounder in support of the little life he helped create inside you.

Any chance he gets he. Has you strip and dance for him the new baby fat perfectly giving you more curves than before. Even now as he groans under you his large hand grips the flesh of your waist once in a while giving your apple ass a slap causing your cunt to clench around him as you jump.

You open your eyes only to see him lustfully starring back at you his hand exploring your sides feelign every inch of you. His actions and look of adoration makes you smile but that smile fade when you feel liquid secrete from your breast your face reddens as cover your chest gasps about to get off your husband in embarrassment.

But he grips you still and sits you looking you square in the eyes before he runs his thumb over your hardened nipple taking your breast into hand.

“Fuck…we cant let this go to wast now can we.” He speaks before dipping down and licking the liquid off. The sweet taste of your milk coating his tounge as he moves to the other.

He groans as he sucks on it wanting more. You moan out as he then turns your both over so he’s on top only to pull his lips away for one second to being fucking up into you relentlessly your tits begin bouncing up as he does.

He grips one and massages it causing more milk to seep out. He quickly laps it up and does the same with the other. Somehow keeping control as he roughly fucks you. Drinking up your sweet nectar. You clown at him and moan out as he continues to stimulate you.

“Fuck you taste like gold!” He groans deeply continuing to feast.

“Ah-ah s-Sandor i-“ you trail off as your toes curl and your pussy clenches. The sensation of your orgasm washed over you in shock causing your back to arch only giving your husband better access to your breasts.

Moments later his thrusts falter and hes cumming up in you making sure you get all of his seed despite being currently pregnant.

You pant as you stay in place for a moment. Sandro comes off your boob with a light ‘pop’ you look to him as his lips and chin are coated in a sheen as he licks off the access. You glance down at your chest seeing it littered with mini bruises from his rough suckling.

You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him too you kissing his lips deeply tasting your own on him. And fuck he was right.

You do taste like gold.

MY REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN SEND A NOTE IF INTERESTED.

[ivystoryweaver]

Based on a combined request from @babyprofessorsharkpalace and @dowbastan. The requests were so similar that I wrote this one shot and I hope you both like it!

Summary: You're the childhood love of Duke Leto Atreides. Years have passed and your paths took you different directions. You have one final night before he leaves Caladan for Arrakis.

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides from Dune x f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: NSFW, mdni, language, fingering, oral - m. rec., p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, nipple play, spitting, not beta'd

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

An invitation to Caladan to celebrate House Atreides' appointment to Arrakis was a coveted opportunity, and an honor.

You belonged to a noble family on a neighboring planet, and your family had a history with House Atreides. In fact, you were once pledged to a young Leto Atreides.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Then...

Long before silver sprinkled his inky curls - before his father passed on the title of Duke - the handsome first son of Caladan was your intended.

This resulted in multiple visits to Caladan during your childhood, in which you actually befriended young Leto. The two of you remained unaware of your families' intentions for years. You played along the wet, craggy rocks and numerous caves of Caladan, and the sprawling gardens of your homeworld.

When you came of age, plans were made to announce your engagement officially. This was the first you'd ever heard of it. You visited Caladan once again with your parents, eager to see your dear friend Leto.

You were both still so young - you even more so than he. You and Leto stole away to your usual childhood spots, laughing and catching up, but this time, once you reached your favorite cave, he gathered you into his arms.

"We're to be married," he whispered, gazing adoringly into your eyes. "Does this please you?"

"Leto," you whispered, with a breathless laugh. "Who else could it ever be but you?"

His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body as he lowered his lips to yours.

This was the last happiness you would know with your childhood love.

The Bene Gesserit installed Lady Jessica as a concubine for young Leto.

You understood that many nobles had concubines for companionship, while remaining open to strategic, political marriages. But you assumed you would be Leto's companion, as well as his wife.

Despite your protestations, you might have been forced into the arrangement anyway, except that your parents would have you nowhere near the influence of the Bene Gesserit, if they could help it.

So you didn't see Leto again for years - not until you were married to another powerful man, and Leto had a son and heir, thanks to Lady Jessica.

You had the opportunity to meet them once - young Paul Atreides and his mom. Truthfully, they were lovely and you found yourself wondering why fate had brought a man like Leto to your heart only to yank him away and give him to someone else.

Then your husband passed away. You received a note of condolence from Leto, in his own hand, no less.

'I will always cherish our fond childhood,' it read. 'Please know my sympathy and warm affection are with you always.'

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Now...

So, here you are, these years later, in the home - the castle - of your once intended. A farewell party, to honor House Atreides before they set off to oversee spice production on Arrakis.

Your invitation is nothing special. Hundreds were invited from all over. The chance of you seeing, let alone speaking with the Duke is minuscule. He likely has more important things to do than worry about widowed childhood friends.

The opulence of the occasion enchants even you for a time, but you eventually grow weary of the fake smiles and never-ending condolences. Bored with the evening, and damn near everything in your life, you wander away from the bustle and celebration, through once familiar corridors of Castle Caladan.

Hardly a thing has changed. Few things ever do in these ancient royal dwellings. You find yourself meandering along, just as you did as a child, darting from one lavish room to the next, avoiding the elder duke's stern glare.

Speaking of which...

"If I look at you at just the right angle, it almost seems like we're teenagers again."

The unmistakable voice of Duke Leto Atreides sounds over the faded swirl of orchestra music, drifting from the great hall.

"In complete darkness, maybe," you lightly return, keeping your back turned. "Seeing how I have not walked these halls since the birth of your son."

"A young man nearly grown," Leto evenly responds. "It's been far too long."

The thump of his heavy boots alerts you to his approach. You stiffen as he draws near. You suppose it's time to acknowledge your host in his own home. Before you can, however, he moves in beside you.

Just the scent of him throws you into inner turmoil. The years have been kind to Leto. He wears middle age very well. Distinguished and brutally handsome, he commands respect, despite his shorter stature.

"Too long indeed," you finally respond, longing to turn and gaze into his eyes - to see if any trace of the boy you loved still lingers.

"Let me look at you," he softly commands, boldly cupping your shoulder with his palm.

"Nothing to see." You shrug him off, or attempt to anyway. "Just a lonely widow."

He crowds into your personal space demandingly, grasping both shoulders now. "Am I such a stranger to you that you won't greet me in my own home - or even look at me? Why did you even make the journey?"

Your eyes meet his unflinchingly - a perfect match for his stubbornness. "I came to congratulate you and your family on your appointment to Arrakis. Now that I've done so, I'll take my leave."

He holds you firmly, the heat of his fingers seeping through your sleeve. "Why so soon? I've only just laid eyes on you for the first time in years and you can't even spare me a glance? You might as well condemn me to walk the sands of Arrakis alone."

"Don't be so dramatic, Leto," you mock, attempting to wrench free of his grip. "Everything you need or want is going with you to that desert rock."

"Not everything," he firmly protests, dark eyes boring into yours. His fingers, so insistently gripping your arms, relax and began to trace soothing circles on the soft fabric of your dress.

You huff, rolling your eyes, but your body automatically eases closer to the duke, as if responding to him instinctually.

"Don't pretend I mean anything to you now," you scold him, melting into his embrace, with only your words left to cut him.

"No one in this world means more to me except for my own son," he breathes on your cheek, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you flush against his pristinely uniformed chest.

Your heart stops for a moment as you struggle to breathe. "I think you forgot Lady Jessica," you finally manage. "The Bene Gesserit's strategic installation."

He groans. "She's the mother of my heir."

"All the more reason to leave me be! I've paid my respects. I'm done here. We're done." Your chest heaves dramatically as Leto runs his hands possessively up your back, pulling you desperately close.

"I'll never be done with you," he breathes against your mouth, covering your lips with his own. You want to fight him but the heat of his tongue lures you in, your body wilting into his powerful embrace. His soft beard tickles your face as you liquify in his arms.

Taking advantage of your compliance, he kisses you endlessly, working the elegant skirt of your dress up your legs until it bunches around your waist, giving him access to caress your thighs.

His tongue thrusts hungrily but his fingers touch you softly, tracing your inner thigh, on a determined path to the core of you.

He doesn't ask - he feels your hips shift toward his caress as he strokes you through the flimsy fabric covering your folds.

He wastes no time brushing the material aside to push his knuckles against your wet heat, already slick for him. He surprises you with the brazenness of his touch. His fingers stretch out, separating your slick folds. The pad of his thumb drags demandingly down over your needy bundle of nerves as his fingers work their way into you possessively.

He groans into your mouth as you squelch and clench around him - your hole tight and unused.

You shamelessly moan against his parted, panting mouth, fucking your hips down onto his thick digits, the stretch of even two fingers stuffing you fuller than you've felt in years. His rhythm in and out is the most incredible sensation you've ever experienced in your life.

"This is all for you," he rumbles on your ear, curling his fingertips against the spongy softness inside you, making you shudder with desperate want. "Invited half the galaxy here just so I could be inside you again."

"Leto," you keen, your back arching as a wave of euphoria rolls through you, drenching his fingers with your desire.

You're instantly yanking at the belt of his uniform trousers, panting, somewhat satisfied, but not truly sated. You remember the beautiful, soft, strong body of your first lover. Your husband had no hope of comparing.

As you work him free of his pants, which drop to his knees, you gasp out an eager whine as his cock springs free, stiff and thick and already dripping for you. Without another thought, you're sinking to your knees to swipe your tongue over the proud length of him.

He sucks in a breath and growls out a swear. You can tell you've managed to truly surprise him.

You can't fit him in your mouth - there's no way, so your hands grip his shaft twisting possessively as you open wide and try take him to the back of your throat.

"F-fuck," he hisses, stumbling forward slightly and you gag, drool trickling from the corners of your mouth. Once you get your bearings, you chuckle around him because this man never loses control of any situation.

He's so thick your eyes start to water, but it feels good to have him in your hands again - to have someone want you, crave you, even.

His body is tense and impatient and he grips your chin forcefully, although not painfully, easing his stiff cock out of your mouth. You wonder what's going on, but he doesn't keep you guessing.

"Turn around," he orders, bringing your skirts back up to where they started, around your waist. "Hold this," he commands.

His hands grip your hips underneath your dress and you feel his cock rubbing against your ass as he leans over you the nearest table, his breath falling hot on your ear. He doesn't speak yet, just breathes in and out. You manage to hold your skirt with one hand while bracing yourself with the other.

Unsatisfied with your position, he grumbles out a curse, pushing you so far over that your backside is higher than your head, your body halfway sprawled across the table’s end. Leaning down, he separates your pussy lips with his fingers and spits on your cunt. You let out a whine - your own voice sounding foreign to you. Then you feel the tip of his cock drag through your wet folds, back and forth, before he finally eases in, halting as he feels how impossibly tight you are.

You whimper at the intrusion, your body thrumming with lust. This elegant duke - controlled and noble in every interaction - is grunting, his hips stuttering as he tries to fit his impossibly huge cock into your unused cunt. Your whines and his groans are shamefully loud, echoing off the ancient walls of this corridor, where anyone could find you.

"You'll take all of me before you leave here," he hisses, his fingers finding your clit, circling languidly, while his other hand wraps around your abdomen, holding you in position. He palms your breast through the fabric of your dress and you wish you could feel his skin against yours again.

You almost say as much - beg him, even, but you know these are stolen moments. Hundreds are waiting for him, probably looking for him.

But he's here, inside you. Or half inside, anyway.

"That's it, dove, let me in," he huffs, pushing in more, and more.

Tears prick your eyes because it stings but you need it so badly. "You're so big," you gasp out, "I can't, Leto. Please."

He jerks out of you so fast, you almost topple over, but the strong arm wrapped around you holds you steady. Pulling you up to your feet, he drags you by the hand to the nearest sleeping quarters down the corridor - essentially, the closest room with a door.

Securing the door, he all but rips the bodice of your dress, pawing at you until your breasts spring free. Catching your nipple between his teeth, he tugs, making you hiss out a whine, the pain and pleasure making you weak.

His tongue soothes your sore skin, coaxing your nipple to hardness. Then he suckles you while yanking at your laces and bindings.

You chant his name like a prayer, pushing your fingers into his perfectly kempt curls, twirling them into a mess as he sucks your tits, one at a time. It feels so good you could come again just from this.

But you need to feel him, to have him. This will be your only chance - you're sure of it. Barely managing to give up the sensation of having this perfect man suck your nipples, you push him back and work on the buttons of his uniform jacket. He's way ahead of you, having rid himself of everything from the waist down.

Finally, finally you feel all of him, all these years later.

He pulls you against him, kissing you deeply, gripping your thighs before hoisting them around his waist. Backing up to the bed, he eases down, sitting on the edge with you on top of him.

"Need you to take all of me," he repeats the directive, clutching your hip with one hand, while gripping his cock in the other.

Nodding, you push up onto your knees, letting him drag his tip through your folds, collecting your wetness.

"Fuck me," he commands, squeezing your hip and pushing you downward, fingertips digging into your flesh.

Bracing yourself on his broad, muscular shoulders, you sink onto his tip, breathlessly moaning at how swiftly and easily you feel full.

"More than that. Need more." His jaw is locked in unbearable tension and you feel his cock twitch as he slips deeper inside.

"Kept this cunt tight for me," he rasps, pushing again. "No one can stretch you out like I can."

"Yes," you unabashedly whine, your legs trembling as you try to hold your body up just a little longer, feeling as if he will spear you in half if you sink all the way down.

He leans back a little and uses his fingers to push your pussy lips apart. He wants to watch your squelching cunt split open over his thick cock.

"Look at how you take me," he marvels, licking his lips, using one fingertip to toy with your clit. Your back arches in ecstasy, but you still, you don't sink all the way down.

"Let me in," he snarls, rubbing you rapidly but so featherlight, you teeter on the edge of orgasm. Desperate to come, to please him, to feel all of him, you give in, letting your legs give out as you sink down - the heavy length of him searing you inside.

"Leto, fuck...fuck," you cry - wincing at the sting but reveling in the stretch.

He groans out appreciatively, but his arms quickly wind around you to support your weight and he stills the movement of his hips as you adjust to the full length of him.

"So good for me," he rasps, kissing you again. You melt into the taste of him, threading your fingers through his curls. Your breasts press against the warmth of his chest. He kisses you on and on, his legs twitching with the need to move, to push up, to thrust into your cunt, stuffed full of him.

He almost comes just from the first rock of your hips, finally feeling the friction he needs. He wants to grip your hips and force you down on his cock, over and over, but he's patient, just a little longer. Your hunger for this - for him, is almost as intoxicating as the way you begin to slowly grind your pelvis in a tantalizing, delicious rhythm.

Wanting you to feel as good as he does - needing to feel the clench of your cunt around his cock when you come - prompts him to reach between your bodies again and strum at your oversensitive clit. He meets your rocking with slow, sensual thrusts upward, sucking a mark into your throat as he coaxes you to another delicious climax.

You forget to mind the fact that this spontaneous reunion could technically result in a child. But Leto hasn't forgotten.

"Want to fill you up," he pants, desperation creeping into his thrusts. The initial sting has worn off after two orgasms, and the slick heat between your bodies creates a pleasurable friction for you both.

"Dance with me tonight," he carries on, pulling you against his chest as his thrusts grow more demanding. "You'll feel the ache of me inside you. I want you to feel me leaking out of you. You're mine."

"I belong to no man," you protest, even as your cunt flutters in agreement with him.

Just a few more thrusts and he comes with a groan, spilling deep inside you, his breath heavy on your throat.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold him close, keeping him inside you, reveling in these stolen moments before he disappears from your life. 

Most likely for forever.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

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[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Shows His Range in New Films 'The Apprentice' and 'A Different Man'

The 'Pam & Tommy' star appears unrecognizable in two projects that prove he's a master of transformation

JASMIN ROSEMBERG

"I have these very vivid memories,” says 42-year-old actor Sebastian Stan of growing up in Romania during the 1989 revolution.

“One of them being this Dacia car, driving by with screaming people holding the flag. The flag had a hole in the middle, which they had cut out — [erasing] the communist symbol at the time. And then I remember being on my couch with my mom and my grandmother and neighbors, watching Ceausescu be shot.”

What propelled them was the “obsession” Eastern Europeans had with the American Dream. “All I ever heard about was America: the land of the free, the land of opportunity,” says Stan, who at 8, moved with his mother — a pianist, who named him after composer Johann Sebastian Bach — to Vienna before heading to the U.S.

“I remember coming to this country when I was 12 with my mom and seeing the big Twin Towers of New York City and feeling overwhelmed,” Stan says. “And my mom looking at me and saying: “Now you have a chance to become someone.”

Stan takes a seat in an Amiri look with a ring by The Crown Collective.

The memories rushed back to him in 2019, when he was first reading the script for The Apprentice — the biographical film about Donald Trump directed by Iranian-Danish filmmaker Ali Abbasi (Holy Spider, The Last of Us) and penned by Gabriel Sherman (who wrote the Roger Ailes biography The Loudest Voice in the Room).

“I was intrigued there was a movie being made about [Trump’s] earlier years,” says Stan of The Apprentice, which details Trump’s rise as a real estate businessman in New York during the ’70s and ’80s after being taken under the wing of ruthless attorney Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong) — who dealt in blackmail and had prosecuted the Rosenbergs in the espionage trial that led to their 1953 execution. “I was excited about [Abbasi] as an Iranian-European filmmaker approaching the story.” But after receiving the script, he heard nothing … until 2022.

“Of course, you have hesitation,” says Stan, who takes on the role of the former president and 2024 Republican nominee. “You’re wondering, ‘Why tell the story? What is there to add?’ Or, ‘What can I contribute here? I don’t look like him.’ There were plenty of reservations and my own personal judgements.”

But Stan tried an exercise: “I went back to the script, crossing out the character names and just trying to read it [without] bringing any baggage with me. And I found it to be much more relatable than I had anticipated, in terms of what I felt it was saying about the American Dream. [It was] this point of view of, ‘You’ve got to get there, you’ve got to be perfect, you’ve got to win, you’ve got to get more.’”

Now you have a chance to become someone.

Stan in Christian Dior Irvin Rivera for LA Magazine

“You have to find parts of yourself through which you can understand the people you’re playing,” he says. “For me, [it was] that moment coming to New York and remembering how grateful I was to finally have a chance — and what my mom was telling me. But I also suddenly felt this burden, which I still feel now sometimes, which is, ‘When is it enough?’”

In the film, Trump goes from being the impressionable, wide-eyed son of an impossible-to-please real estate developer to a megalomaniacal wheeler-dealer who speaks in hyperbole, is obsessed with appearance (his own and that of his first wife, Ivana — played by Maria Bakalova — a relationship that escalates into sexual assault) and surpasses his master in heartlessness and corruption.

“We can see how easy it is to make a Faustian deal with the devil in order to win,” Stan says. “‘What is the cost of this American Dream?’ I related [to] seeing a person so determined to get there, no matter what, that he was abandoning who he was in the process.”

Stan’s ascent has been just as remarkable. After acting in school plays in New York’s Rockland County, he studied at Rutgers University before scoring a recurring role on the CW series Gossip Girl. “The next really big shift I felt was [landing] Marvel, in 2010,” says Stan, who played Captain America colleague Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, a role that led to his signing a nine-picture deal with the studio. He’s also worked with a string of award-winning directors and actors in films such as Black Swan, The Martian and Destroyer.

Irvin Rivera for LA Magazine

His first experience portraying a real person was in 2017 biopic I, Tonya as figure skater Tonya Harding’s husband opposite Margot Robbie. For 2022 Hulu miniseries Pam & Tommy, he transformed into Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee, husband to Lily James’ Pamela Anderson — which earned him Golden Globe, Critics Choice and Emmy nominations. The projects “had one thing in common, which was Craig Gillespie,” Stan says, “an incredible director, who taught me a lot of things about myself I didn’t necessarily know I could do.”

In becoming Trump, Stan wanted to rely on prosthetics as little as possible. “But we were very aware we don’t look very similar,” he says. “And so, about two months before we started shooting, Ali told me that I should start gaining as much weight as I could in my face.”

Stan’s nutritionist advised him to drink beer — but because Trump doesn’t drink, the actor preferred ramen with sodium-packed soy sauce. He adopted the precise way Trump spoke and moved through a process he equates with osmosis: “Subjecting yourself in an obsessive way to watching and listening and reading everything [about Trump] you can find.”

He credits Strong for elevating their work. “We improvised a lot,” Stan says. “And Jeremy was so prepared that I had to do my research to keep up. Like that scene where [Trump and Cohn are] meeting: I would have to know what school [Cohn] went to, and who his last client was, and that he was from the Bronx and had a photographic memory — in case it came up in the improv. Because he knew who was pitching for the Mets in 1976! It was a really immersive experience and we were on our toes together.”

Maria Bakalova as Ivana Trump and Stan as Donald Trump in 'The Apprentice'

After premiering at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival in May, The Apprentice had a hard time finding a U.S. distributor due to Trump threatening legal retaliation. But after Tom Ortenberg’s Briarcliff Entertainment acquired the film in late August, it hit theaters Oct. 11.

Stan also stars in A Different Man, in which he plays Edward, an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis — a rare genetic skin condition that produces tumors. Edward undergoes a medical procedure in the hopes his new appearance will win him a woman (Renate Reinsve) and better his life. Like The Apprentice, Stan considers this film — which scored him the Silver Bear for Best Leading Performance when it bowed in Berlin — to address self-acceptance.

Stan with Renate Reinsve and Adam Pearson in 'A Different Man'

“It’s this idea, of ‘the grass is greener on the other side’ — and the truth is, you don't know,” says Stan, who lobbied for the role after seeing director Aaron Schimberg’s 2018 Chained for Life. Both that film and A Different Man, released theatrically by A24 in September, star British actor Adam Pearson, who has neurofibromatosis. “I spoke to doctors, I’ve spoken to Adam in-depth about his upbringing,” says Stan, who sat in Mike Marino’s makeup chair for up to two hours to transform into Edward.

“The prosthetics were so realistic that when I started to walk around, nobody recognized me ... and it was scary,” he says. “You see firsthand how we respond to somebody who looks different.”

Irvin Rivera for LA Magazine

Stan next stars in Marvel’s Thunderbolts* with David Harbour, Wyatt Russell, Florence Pugh and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, out in May 2025. “It's a funny group of not-perfect antiheroes that are trying to come to terms with their pasts, and I think people will get behind them," he says.

He’ll reunite with Pam & Tommy’s James on horror thriller Let the Evil Go West, about a railroad worker who stumbles into a fortune that comes at a price — “a very different movie than our last experience," he notes. And he’s producing Blue Banks, from Romanian writer-director Andreea Cristina Bortun.

“It’s this really personal film about a single mother’s journey with her son in Romania, which reminded me a lot of my humble beginnings with my mom — and how tough it was after the revolution, as a single parent, to take care of your kid and at the same time, provide,” Stan says.

“A lot of parents had to leave their kids behind to get a job somewhere else — which is what happened with me for a couple years, until I started living with my mom again. I was with my grandparents," he adds. "It explores the implications and the suffering that comes at the hands of a system that has oppressed people for so long. And then they’re left with trying to find their way.”

SEBASTIAN STANLEADING MEN OF 2024 NOVEMBER 2024

[entitled-fangirl]

HELP ME DECIDE ON MY NEXT FIC!!

I wrote brief (out of context) teasers for various asks in my inbox. Some have the main idea of the story and some don't- That's what makes it fun hehe. Anyway, read these and vote at the bottom which one I should write next!!!!

Red = Jace Velaryon x reader

Blue = Cregan Stark x reader

Green = Gwayne Hightower x reader

SOME ARE A LITTLE NSFW 😅

....................................................................................

1.

"Your mind is racing," he pointed out.

She turned around, seeing Jace standing in the doorway of the library. 

His usual grin came over his face as he stepped further into the room. "Mind telling me what ails you?"

She pulled her hair over her shoulder. "I'd prefer to not worry you over trivial things, my prince."

He chuckled lightly and continued to take steps towards her, "And I'd prefer my wife to call me by my name. Seems we are both quite unlucky."

…………………………….................................................

2.

"Surely, you should slow down," Cregan gently suggested as he took the chalice almost empty of wine from his wife's hand. 

She giggled when their fingers brushed, "Why would I when I am so thoroughly enjoying myself?"

He set the glass down, "You're a wonder, my love. Let us take you to bed."

A playful look came over her eyes, "Take me to bed?"

…………………………….................................................

3.

"I imagined your pretty thighs wrapped around my head," Cregan whispered in her ear. 

Still straddling him, she froze in place. "W…What?"

"I have dreams of devouring you in the most sinful ways," he admitted.

……………………………......................................................

4.

She didn't take his hand when she dismounted her horse. 

She was too headstrong of a woman, Cregan often thought. 

She was a Bracken, and Brackens were nothing if not stubborn as mules.

The war did nothing to bridge the gap of their marriage. In fact, it made it only grow.

A Bracken married to the Wolf who fought for the Blacks.

It seemed ridiculous.

…………………………….......................................................

5.

Cregan did not wish to marry again. The thought terrified him.

But he understood that his wishes were not taken into account when he was born with the Stark name.

Now, he nervously stood outside of the Winterfell walls, awaiting the young woman that would become his second wife. 

He was not a religious man, but he prayed that this marriage would be better.

…………………………...............................................................

6.

Cregan pulled her as physically close as he could and growled lowly in her ear, "I believe if I am kept from you for another minute, I will surely take you out here in front of everyone."

She let out a shuddered breath, "These months have been long without you."

"If you'll let me, I'll make up for every moment," he said as he kissed down her neck, not caring if the entire North saw.

…………………………................................................................

7.

She nodded, running a hand through Daeron's hair affectionately. "Gwayne and his father have never seen eye to eye, not since Alicent became queen. They are just two very different men."

"Is that how all fathers and sons talk?"

She pulled his chin up to make his eyes meet hers, "No. Not all fathers and sons speak in ill regard of one another."

"What if he does it to his own son?"

Her brows furrowed, "What?"

"What if Gwayne speaks like that to the babe?" 

She just realized how his eyes glazed over with tears. "Oh, sweet boy." She pulled him to her. "Gwayne is a man with a temper, but he would not do that. There is a barrier between Gwayne and his father. One that cannot be fixed now, and only because of that do they fight."

Daeron considered her words for a while, "So, because there is no barrier with the babe-"

"-Gwayne will love this child with his entire being, I promise you."

She held him for a while, promising to talk to her husband about it later.

………………………………........................................................

8.

"Jace?" She softly spoke into the dark as she stepped out onto the bannister. 

Jace's back was to her, but even from there, it was clear something was wrong.

She stepped beside him and set the candle onto the sturdy railing. "My love?"

He finally turned to face her. His eyes were puffy, cheeks red, and hot tears were falling down his face.

………………………………...............................................................

[bullet-prooflove]

I'm mad at him but still sending a request for him... "He did'nt do right, it's too bad now" with young (or maybe even old) John Dutton, please??

Tagging: @kmc1989 @noxytopy @foxfables@ solar-raccoon @toheavenwmydrms

Companion piece to:

The One That Got Away - In light of Lee's recent wedding, John reflects on the one that got away.

The Other Woman (NSFW) - John was never meant to be with Evelyn.

Duty - Dutton men don’t marry for love.

Meet John's son here:

The Fifth Man - After reading through Lee's journals Kayce realises he has another brother.

The biggest torment for John Dutton is seeing you around town with that baby, the one that has Lee’s eyes and Kacey’s hair. The rumour is that he’s the result of a one night stand at the rodeo but John knows better, he knows that boy is his.

He can still remember the night you’d summoned him to the summerhouse. He’d thought it was another tryst, another seduction but you’d handed him a sonogram instead.

“We’re having a boy.” You’d told him and all he could think about is how it’s three months after his wife’s death and he already has four other children at home.

“We’ll take care of it.” He promises you, his hands lightly squeezing his shoulders. “I’ll have Rip come by, he can take you to the clinic in Helena, I’ll take care of the cost and anything you need afterwards.”

“You promised we’d have a family.” You’d said your voice breaking and he had cradled your face between his hands and whispered.

“It’s just not the right time.”

It’s in that moment that you realise there will be no right time. You’re staring down the barrel of forty with no husband, no child. This is your last chance, your only chance and if you have to do it alone, then so be it.

“It is for me.” You tell him as you draw away. “I’m going to have this baby, with you or without you.”

He drops by a couple of days later with an envelope of cash, ready to change your mind but you don’t answer the door despite the fact your car is in the driveway. He leaves the envelope in the mailbox, hoping that you’ve come to your senses, that you’ll make the appropriate arrangements.

It’s four months later you deliver a healthy baby boy, you call him Joseph, an ode to your dead father.

In the first few months he doesn’t get the chance to see his son, your brother Jack takes a break from his time on the rodeo circuit to help you with the baby. He catches glimpses of you around town, baby Joseph always cradled against your chest, cuddling in close. Every time it feels like a brand plunging into his chest because this is what his future should have looked like all those years ago.  

You, him, a family of your own.

His days full of laughter and love.

Instead his heart is barren and his son is growing up without a father or siblings.

“I’m ready.” He tells you the following year, after his father passes away. “We can get married, we’ll say I adopted him…”

“He’s your fucking son.” You snap back as you stand before him in the kitchen of your farmhouse, both hands resting on your hips. “The very least you can do is acknowledge that.”

“Lou, you know I can’t bring that kind of scandal to the ranch…”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back because you have loved this man, you have sacrificed for him, you have wasted the best years of your life waiting for him and all of it was for nothing.

“Get the fuck out.” You erupt, picking up a mug from the draining board and hurling it at him. It smashes on the wall behind him, shattering into a hundred pieces. He feels a bite across his cheek as a stray shard slices into his skin, a warmth trickling down his cheek. “If you come anywhere near me or my son again, I will tell everyone that I fucked you the night of your wife’s funeral, I will show them the letters you wrote and that reputation you’ve spent the past twenty years protecting, it’ll all be for nothing.”

He leaves then, blood running down the side of his face as he gets back into his truck and stares at you through the kitchen window, his son now clasped in your arms, your lips brushing over his soft hair.

This is the curse of the Dutton men, he realises as he starts up the engine. They don’t get a happy ending, they just get the ranch.

Love Young John Dutton? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

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[anonymooseforever007]

CATastrophe

(Alfie Solomons x Wife Reader)

Summary: Alfie said the kitten could stay on ONE condition: It couldn't make a mess of anything. And you'd promised him the cute little furball wouldn't dream of spilling even a drop of milk.....Unfortunately the kitten made no such promises....

A/N: Hi y'all! No warnings for this one. This is for Flor's ( @raincoffeeandfandoms ) 2.7k celebration! That I wrote like a year ago before I disappeared, so I'm sorry it took so long 😂😅! But you're amazing!!!❤️ I hope you enjoy this! You said the theme was cats and this idea popped into my head and I ran with it! It's about 90 percent comedic/fluff about when Y/N and Alfie met their kitten, which happens to be on the same day Alfie meets Tommy. So I have changed that part up from canon just a little bit for my own devices.

WC- 7.5k

Main Masterlist

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

"Oh no. No no no no no! Get off that! Off! No! Whhhyyy did you dooo that..... why."

Slight panic swept through your body as you quickly snatched up the ink stained papers off Alfie's desk. 

"Please don't be important. Please don't be important. Please don't be impo.... and they're for the new guy.... great.... Maybe we can clean it off... nope. We are absolutely screwed."

Giving another groan of defeat and burying your head into your arms, you slouched down in your husband's chair. The rain outside seemed to grow darker with your mood. You'd only fallen asleep for fifteen minutes.... but evidently that was all it took for catastrophe to occur. 

"Meow."

And CATastrophe really was the right word for it, given how the instigator of this entire mess was already ignoring your despair... in favor of playing with a loose string on the couch. The small creature wasn't paying any mind to the paw printed papers he'd ruined, nor the blue ink still mattered upon his tiny mitts. Ink that was yet to dry, resulting in a small path of blue paw prints across the stone floor.... And on the desk... And the couch.... And basically everything in the office. There was even a single blue print on the fur right under a sleeping Cyril's nose.

"Oh don't say that. You know what you did."

Sighing again, you stood up and pinched the small kitten up by the back of his neck. You weren't hurting it, instead you'd grabbed it in the hold you'd seen mother cats do many times when carrying their babies down the road. It was the exact grip that would render your captive immobile while you came up with a plan to fix his mistake. Or maybe to escape.

"I mean really?! You heard what Alfie said earlier." Still holding the guilty party gently, you wagged your pointer finger at the naughty thing, much like you did Cyril when he got stole steak off the table. Narrowing your eyes slightly as the kitten only stared, you continued your admonishment, "He said if you made any trouble he'd put you back in the dumpster I found you in. And while he may not actually do it, he'd certainly give you away to someone else. And we can't have that, can we."

The kitten only let out a small noise as if agreeing. Though it would seem that would be enough to melt your frustrated heart. Huffing, you pulled the cat closer to your chest and started petting the top of his head, paying no mind to the ink slowly dying your dress. Moving to the couch you sat down, remembering what had occurred only that morning....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A few hours ago....

"ALFRED!!!"

Jumping slightly at the sudden shout, your husband raised his head from the dozens of papers on his desk. He barely had time to open his mouth before the door to his office swung open with contrasting gentleness from your previous tone. As you stepped through the frame, he could see your coat bundled tightly to your chest. He'd never admit it, but the way you shook your head to get the rain drops off reminded him exactly of Cyril. Like mother like son he guessed. As if your particularly bouncy disposition shouldn't have been enough to tip him off, the look in your eyes told Alfie were this conversation was headed before it even began. Or so he thought.

"We have a cat."

"......No, we don't. We have a dog."

"No, Alfie. We have a cat."

"Cyril's a dog." Alfie was confused now. You did understand that Cyril was a dog right? Did you get brunch with your sister and have too many cups of her special 'tea'? Alfie's brow pulled together as he thought, and a quick glance to the mutt, confirmed that he was indeed looking at a dog. A very big one, who wasn't anywhere near cat size.

"No. Alfie. We. have. a. CAT." You stepped right up to his desk, and placed a small ball of fur right onto his top hat. Just like it was a podium in which to share the world. If Alfie had to guess, he'd have thought you'd placed a clump of Cyril's fur on his hat, but then it started to move. 

In no time, Alfie was matching gazes with a pair of brilliant blue eyes that could rival Tommy Shelby's. Or so Alfie had heard, he was only meeting the man for the first time today, because apparently a simple 'Hello' constituents as a fucking 'Come on over for tea and biscuits, we'll be fucking friends,' in Birmingham... But the brilliance of Tommy's eyes wasn't the biggest thing on the Jewish Gangster's mind right now.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's a CAT, Alfie. Haven't you been listening to a word I said?"

Sliding around the desk, you pushed Alfie's chair back, just enough so you had space to sit on his good leg. You only grinned, watching the small kitten begin to play with the feather in your husband's hat. Alfie was slightly still stuck in the whole Cyril: Dog or Cat? debate he'd gotten into his head.

"Ok Dovey, but why is it here?"

With a loving sigh, you took Alfie's face in your hands, mindlessly rubbing a thumb over his bearded cheeks.

"It is here because our newest child needs to meet his new daddy." Turning his head so he could see who exactly was 'the child' in question, you continued, "I was bringing back lunch. I heard something mewling from the dumpster. I went over to the dumpster. I found him gnawing away at a half eaten fish head. He was adorable. He was alone. Now he is ours."

The final sentence was said kindly, but firmly. In fact, your whole statement was spoken so 'matter of fact' like and simply. Alfie knew the conversation was already finished. But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

"Ours? Dovey, I don't know. I'm not really a cat fella. You know that. Besides I've got a meeting in a bit. I don't have time to be taking care of a feral cat. What kind of man would this Peaky fucker take me for if he saw me walking around with a cat on my shoulder?"

Grinning, you gently tapped Alfie's nose as if he'd said something adorable.

"Well, Ally. That's just because you've never had one before. You have to have something to become a something sort of person don't cha? Besides. It's not like you're gonna be the only one taking care of him. I'll be there too! To help you along the way." Then raising and eyebrow you made sure to catch his eye contact before you continued, "Also, before I forget, Alfred. I know it's important to make an impression on possible business partners, but how about this time we keep those impressions non physical, yes? I have no issue with you pointing a gun in their face, but just please stop getting blood on your rings. Try to take them off if you must. I'm tired of having to take your rings to the jeweler to get them fixed because you just had to make a 'lasting impression' when they decided to say one thing you didn't like, alright?"

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you continued your plea for one month without having to get his rings fixed, "Do it for me and sweet old Miss Haversnash who always thinks you've been mugged every time I bring them in. She's 83 years old, and her memory's not what it use to be. Half the time she thinks you've gotten into another boxing match like when you were 16. And the other half, she thinks you're an actual baker with a bad hip who's being constantly being picked on and bullied by the teens who throw glass in the allyway behind her house at night."

Alfie's eyes shot to yours at that statement.you could practically taste the offense coming off of him.

"Wait Dovey... Are you telling her I'm a weak fucking thing that can't even scare off a few kids?"

"No," your sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at the one think you knew would get his attention in that sentence. "I've told her again and again that you can take care of yourself, but she just won't have it. Hell, last time I spent ten minutes convincing her to not take her gun and go shoot the 'cowardly fuckwits who dared mess with such a sweet injured man.' Becca was there too and she can tell you just how hard it was. So I'm asking again Alfie: For all of our sakes, please don't beat this man up today unless he really deserves it."

"And what exactly would really deserving it mean Dovey? Because you know me, I'm a man of honour and I'm not gonna hit a fella unless he's got it coming for him." Alfie clasped his hands together as he spoke, like if he did so you'd agree with him.

"Right," you nodded in response, somewhat mocking him. Technically he wasn't lying, by you knew there were times when your husband's definition of 'deserve' varied greatly from the average person's. And while he didn't regularly beat up any poor workers for a simple accident, some of the more annoying ones might as well have been walking on snowflakes over a volcano during his bad days. "Alfie, good behaviour today, deal. Because remember? The longer I spend at the shop getting your rings fixed, the less time I have to get ready for tonight. And Alfie?" You questioned as you leaned your lips to his ear, "I got a pretty new nightgown I've been waiting to show off. It would be a shame if you were to miss it because you were too busy dealing with another man and I fell asleep waiting for you..."

"Is that so poppet," Alfie chucked quietly, moving his hand to you hips and rubbing slow circles. With a sly smirk you nodded, moving one of your own hands down to his upper thigh. Groaning softly, Alfie leaned back in his chair to draw you face towards his for a deep kiss that would probably result in him being late for his meeting. 

"Mrrrrrroooow!"

Remembering there was audience, you pulled back from your husband. Alfie made a noise of his own, one of almost offended shock, crossed a confused huff. Looking at the cat, he narrowed his eyes. It wasn't that he already regretted letting the small thing stay this long, but Alfie never enjoyed your attention being torn away from him. Especially when he could have used that attention to make you think of him for the rest of the day. Though you paid no mind to that.

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. I'm still gonna keep you safe. Come here sugar, time to say hello to your new papa."

Reaching across the desk you picked up the kitten from his 'podium'. Pulling him closer, you gently laid the creature on Alfie's chest in a way that forced him to cup the animal in his hands so it wouldn't fall. You knew once Alfie touched the kitten he'd be sold. And to further your luck, as soon as the kitten was settled on Alfie's chest, it had stated purring in contentment. You may have been Cyril's preference, but there was no doubt who this baby favored.

"See! He loves you! You can't give up on him now. He's already so attached. Even Cyril likes him!" You stated, indicating to the curious pup who was already sniffing gently at the kitten. The baby cat also seemed curious, reaching out a tiny paw to gently bat the dog's nose. In response, Cyril jumped back and barked happily, bending down into his playing position. However it seemed like the poor kitten was not as eager to start playing. With a tiny hiss, he startled, scratching Alfie's hand to be released, before clawing his way up the man's chest under the safety of Alfie's beard. 

"Oh for the love of....fuck. Grab it will ya?" Alfie huffed, his eyes raised to the ceiling as he couldn't lower his chin or risk crushing the cowering cat. Laughing when your eyes met brilliant blue, you couldn't help but coo as you carefully detangled the pair.

"Shuu. It's alright baby. It's ok. Cyril didn't mean to scare you. He's only excited to have a new brother. I promise we'll work on being gentler." Comforting scratches under the cats chin seemed to finally relax its fears. Still sitting on Alfie's lap, you held the cat with one hand and stuck out your other for Cyril to sniff. Seeming to take the hint, Cyril slowly inched forward until his head rested in your palm. Though he was standing still like a good boy, Alfie could practically feel the dog's urge to wag his tail and lick the kitten again. Over the next few minutes you slowly moved the kitten closer and closer to the dog again until the pair was right next to each other.

"See baby, Cyril's just a bug ole fluff ball. He didn't mean to scare you." Still remaining calm, both you and your husband grinned, watching the cat reach out and cautiously climb from your hand onto Cyril's head. Making a small circle and a few biscuits, the kitten seemed to be satisfied and promptly curled up on Cyril's head. By now the dog couldn't contain his excitement and his tail could be seen wagging happily as he tried to stay still.

"There! They already love each other! Isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"It may very well be cute love, but do I look like the type of man who should be surrounded by cute?" With an arched eyebrow, Alfie raised his hands as if to show off all the "cute" things currently not surrounding him at the paper filled office in the middle of an illegal distillery.

As Cyril made his way back to his dog bed, the kitten still perched on his back, you took the time to turn to your husband and cuddle into him more. After all, a little bit of affection never hurt your cause before did it? But Alfie still seemed a bit uncertain.

"Well you certainly don't have any problem being surrounded by me, do ya? And you were saying just last night how cute I was whe.... Hello Ollie! Do you like our new cat? I still haven't thought of a name yet. Any ideas?"

Immediately you switched topics as the tall man walked through Alfie's open door while bearing papers. Though judging by the blush on his ears, he'd already over a head the last sentence and knew where it was going. Alfie just grunted quietly and shifted you on his lap a little as the memories of last night came to his mind. He had absolutely no qualms about Ollie hearing about your marital bliss, but you still tried to spare the younger man's feelings. He'd been married six years and had three kids (with another on the way), but how the man still blushed at the word sex, you didn't know. His wife certainly didn't have the same issue, which is why you made a point of having her for tea at least once a week. She was the mousiest little thing ever, but boy did she have some fun ideas. And she always knew the most interesting books for a a good read. Plus, she made really good chocolate pound cake. Yes, it was safe to say if (heavens forbid) you ever cheated on your husband, it would only be with Ollie's Rebecca. She would have jumped on the cat idea without hesitation. In-fact, she would have already made the animal his own little coat by now. 

"Oh...you have a cat now," Ollie sputtered out, ignoring Alfie's slight 'don't encourage her' glare. Partially because he wasn't afraid of Alfie when you were there, and also because he knew if the cat didn't go with you, it would end up at his house...again. So humoring you was likely his best bet if he wanted to keep what little remained of his space on the bed. "That's nice. Seems to get along with Cyril well."

"Don't they! That's just what I was telling Alfie. Such close friends already, how can you tear them apart."

Still uncertain, Alfie tried one more weak plea.

"I don't know Dovey... It's not even trained. I don't want a cat tearing up my papers before a meeting."

But once more you only smiled, and brushed away his concerns. 

"Alfie. That's ok. He's just a baby now. There'll be time for training. Besides, he's been perfect so far. I promise, this cat will be absolutely no trouble at all..."

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

Present time...

"You are in so much trouble mister."

Again the kitten only meowed and continued to gently bat at your necklace. You still hadn't settled on a name for him yet. So sorrow you'd just taken to calling him the many different pet names you also used on Cyril, Alfie, Goliath, and occasionally Ollie. This entire conversation really was one sided. Your criminal counterpart (well the four legged baby one) couldn't care less about the words coming from your mouth. Glancing around the room you tried to think of a plan. 

"Ok, first thing's first sugarstop, we need to clean you off before you can go signing any more important documents..... But the closet sink is in the kitchens. That might pose an issue." 

Alfie had gone out to meet Mr. Shelby about half an hour ago leaving you, Cyril and, 'the furball' to your own devices. Considering, if Alfie actually decided to play nice today, that a tour of the bakery would take about an hour...You had to be very very quick. But also considering that Alfie always took the same route for his tours, you'd also have to be sneaky because the bakery (the real one) was right at the front of the shop by Alfie's office. Which meant if he hadn't decided to kill this new fucker, then they'd be headed your way and very soon. 

Looking down at the kitten again you knew you'd have to find a way to sneak him to the kitchens, or his blue paws would give up the whole gig. Glancing around the room your searched for something nonchalant to hide the cat in for the short journey. Suddenly your eyes landed on an object sitting by the corner of Alfie's desk..... purrrfect...

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

Tommy / Third Person POV

Thomas Shelby didn't know how to feel about Alfie Solomons. 

But he knew one think for certain.... This Alfie was fucking insane. A partnership with this man might kill him even more painfully than a gang war against him. But then again, Tommy had stopped caring if he'd die long ago, so the way it happened really didn't make much difference these days. As long as his family didn't go with him he figured he'd be just fine. And so if a deal with a mad man was what it took to beat Sabini, then a deal with a mad man he'd make... and hopefully not become one in the process. 

These were the thoughts running through Tommy's head as he followed the other man around the 'bakery', while pretending like he'd already regained feeling in his left elbow and that the ringing in his right ear didn't exist. He really didn't care what Alfie was saying, or about the front the man had put up for his rum business. As far as Tommy was concerned, he just wanted to make the damned deal and go to Ada's house to sleep. But seeing Alfie pause during the tour (again) only too to berate a random worker didn't raise his hopes up. Resisting the urge to knock his head into the wall, Tommy just raised an eyebrow at the scene and waited for Alfie to be done. Suddenly, he heard a fast paced yet soft clicking noise. Like someone was headed towards them, but walking on their toes in an effort be quiet. Unconsciously, he reached for his gun, only to freeze when the approacher turned the corner. 

It was a woman with blue ink stains on her dress and (more oddly) wearing a top hat far too large to be hers...

Tommy could barely see her eyes from under the brim of the hat, and it seemed her vision was just as limited. Head ducked down, she seemed more interested in the ground than anything else. Or maybe like she was trying to hide something. Unconsciously Tommy reached for his gun again. He'd been tricked by a pretty woman before and he didn't plan on letting it happen again. While Alfie continued to quietly threaten talk to his tenth worker of the day, Tommy'a gaze remained fixed on the woman walking towards them. 

Suddenly Alfie slammed his fist against the wall, before he grabbed the man by his collar and pulled the worker towards him. It was so close in-fact, their noses were almost touching. Both Tommy's head and the hat woman's shot over to the angry man. But while the Birmmingham man said nothing, the mystery woman wasn't so silent now. And Tommy didn't know to be more confused or amused when he woman pulled a button out of her pocket and threw it at the bearded man's head to get his attention.

"ALFRED!"

Dropping his wide eyed victim back on his feet, Alfie stepped back and raise his hands in mock surrender. It was evident that this was regular conversation in the bakery. Spinning around to face the pair of onlookers, the bearded man barely even blinked at the hat upon the woman's head. That must have been a regular occurrence too.

"Oi! Why aren't you back at the office?! We agreed you were staying there until this was finished."

Raising an eyebrow at his harsh tone, the woman mimicked Alfie's crossed arms and tilted her head just slightly. It was then Tommy thought he heard a slight mewl coming from her hat, but chalked it up to his still cracked skull. After all, why would a hat be making cat noises? Though before he could question it, the woman spoke again.

"First off, I am not one of your workers. Alfred, You will not use that tone with me. I am not the one who pissed you off, I am not the one who gets the backlash. You know how it works. Second, we never agreed on anything of the matter. You just got up and left when you heard Ollie trying to keep someone out. And third.... I... I wanted to wash my hands in the kitchen. I spilled some ink when writing a letter."

Both men heard the slight hesitation in her last sentence, and while Tommy didn't care enough to question it, Alfie wasn't so convinced. Again Tommy heard a small meowing from her hat, and thought he saw it shift slightly on her head. Almost like someone had just barely bumped into the woman, jostling it slightly, which was odd seeing as there was at least an arms length distance between her and anyone else. Then the noice came again, more frustrated this time and he wasn't so sure it was fake. Additionally by now, the Birmingham gangster had realised this woman obviously wasn't just a random secretary. No, this little conversation was one that took place between two of a far more intimate relationship.

"You spilled ink writing a letter? Really?.... wait. Dovey? Why are there tiny paw prints on your dress? Did the fucking rat do it?"

Having been completely forgotten by, what he assumed was a couple now, Tommy watched as the woman gasped slightly and unconsciously placed a hand over her hat. What was she protecting? And why wouldn't that fucking cat noise go away? Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital for longer. The hat shifted again seemingly by magic.

"Rat?! Alfie you know he's not a rat! And just because he's a bit mischievous doesn't mean this was his fault."

This time it was Alfie's turn to raise his eyebrow. "What do you mean 'this' Poppet? It was only a letter wasn't it? A few spots of ink? He didn't cause any trouble, did he? Where is the little runt anyway? And why've you got my hat on?"

But before anyone could speak again, a determined yowl released itself from the hat, as the object forcefully flipped itself off her head. Unable to hide his shock and confusion, Tommy watched with wide eyes as the hat practically flew towards the ground until it was caught by Alfie. 

Silence reigned in the warehouse for a few moments. Everyone was staring at the 'magic' hat in suspense, waiting to see what it would do next. 

Then, with a rather satisfied purr, a blue pawed kitten popped his head out of the hat.

"....is that a cat?"

It was Tommy who (for once) spoke first, breaking the human silence that still hovered over the group. Forgetting the mess back in the office, the woman finally turned towards him, as if just registering his presence.

"Yes, it is! Isn't he just the cutest li....Alfie!"

Her words had trailed off and then turned to shock as she took in the state of the stranger before her.

Putting it nicely, Thomas Shelby looked like shit.

With a bruised up face and blood shot eyes, there was also a small drop of blood beginning to run from his nose, almost as if he couldn't get it to stop bleeding.

Holding the cat hat in one hand, Alfie raised the other in self defense and pointed at Tommy accusingly.

"He came like that, Dovey! It wasn't me. Doesn't have a single fucking ring mark on him, I swear!"

Observing his torn up state again, the woman gave Tommy another once over, before looking back at Alfie and sighing like she had the confirmation she wanted. With that her shoulders relaxed again and it was like she wasn't giving any more thought to Tommy's beat up state since Alfie wasn't the one who'd done it.

"....Alright, I believe you. Are you sure he's not just gonna dro...."

"I'm Thomas Shelby....And you are?" Having enough of not knowing who this woman was, Tommy interrupted the couple before they could start another conversation. 

Turning to face Tommy again, the woman suck out her own ink covered fingers to shake his outstretched hand. 

"Right, I'm Y/N. You must be the new man Alfie mentioned. It's nice to meet you." 

Tommy politely nodded in agreement, and stepped back once the introduction was over. Behind Y/N, he noticed Alfie's narrowed gaze, as he made physical contact with her. Truthfully, the imitating glare was dampened by the small cat in the hat Alfie was still holding on to. Especially when the animal started reaching up to play with the string on Alfie's necklace. 

Before another silence could settle upon the group, Alfie leaned off the wall he was resting against and promptly handed the hat/cat to his wife. Then throwing his arm almost amicably around Tommy's shoulders, he turned the pair of them around and started walking towards the exit. 

"Well this has been a nice fucking meet up hasn't it? Lovely meeting you, the tea was great, blah, blah, blah. You'll be headed out now."

As the men reached the door, Alfie let go of his grip Tommy and released the man for a hand shake of his own. And while Tommy was truthfully glad to finally be leaving this made house, he couldn't help but be curious and slightly confused about what was going on. 

"What about our deal?"

"Well, we'll just have to cover that next time you invite yourself over here won't we treacle. This was just a fucking warm up, meet and greet. I don't know if I want you lot poking your noses where they don't belong just yet do it. Come back tomorrow and we'll have a chat."

"Next Friday."

Turning, both men looked at Y/N who had followed behind them, and apparently wanted to change the date of their next meeting.

"Huh, Poppet?"

Gesturing towards Tommy's less than healthy state, she explained the situation to her husband. 

"Alfie look at him. A half-blind elderly ladybug could kill him right now." She also made sure to catch Tommy's eyes as she continued, "You can come back at the end of the week. Three O' Clock. Not sooner and if you're going to be late at least call first."

Tommy couldn't only nodded in agreement and slight confusion. Something about the way she spoke told him she'd already decided how this conversation would go. With a short nod he made his way out of the bakery and back to his car. Truthfully he was glad to finally be able to leave. He was tired and his head was killing him, and quite frankly there was something off putting about Alfie. But he couldn't put his finger on it. Now just yet. As he drove to Ada's house there was only in thing on his mind...

No matter how bad the relationship got between the two gangs, Y/N Solomons was never to be touched. Because Alfie Solomons was fucking crazy. And SHE might have been the only bit of sanity he had left. And Tommy didn't want to see how much blood would run when that bit was lost...

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

Y/N / Second Person POV again a few minutes later

"So. How many papers am I going to have to type up again because furball here decided to go ink happy in the office?"

Humming innocently, you continued to avoid eye contact with your husband as  the pair of you walked back to his office, clean kitten in hand. After Tommy had left, you made the unspoken decision to clean the cat off first and then discuss the situation. But now as Alfie's office door approach once again, you couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. 

It wasn't that you thought Alfie was mad. Truth be told, you knew he wasn't. Having married him over a decade ago, you'd gotten to know every one of his little quirks and signed to his emotions. Just like he knew yours. And you knew if he really was frustrated or wanted to talk to discuss something important with you he'd never do it in-front of someone else. 

It was something you both agreed on when you'd gotten married. Being mad at the other was alright. No relationship is perfect and conflict is bound to occur. But that didn't mean it would be healthy for those feeling to stew. So upon the wedding day you'd talked and agreed on three things. First: if the other hurt your feelings or made you mad, let them know about it with words. Actions may show passion, but words speak clarity. Second: Never let the anger stew longer than a day. Try not to go to bed angry and make amends of the day. So the small bump doesn't become a mountain by the end of the week. And Third: NEVER bring down one in the presence of others. Unless the other is about to do something really wrong, you'd stand as a united front through thick and thin. Fighting may be fine, but it would be done out of everyone else's business. You marriage was a private matter and besides, no one liked being the onlooker to a shouting couple. And while the rules had become a bit deeper and more complex and your marriage lengthened and love continued to grow, you'd both still held each other strictly to them even today. 

And that's how you knew Alfie wasn't really mad about the interruption. If it really had irked him, he would have sent Tommy with Ollie and talked to you in the office alone. But he hadn't. Sure he'd accidentally been a bit rude when you'd first come upon him. But that was mainly because he was still channeling his frustration at the man who'd pissed him off. Besides. You were probably right to call him out that time. For his tone though.... and maybe a little bit for threatening a new young worker who simply mixed up the words bread and rum when being asked directly about the rum. But it was an important distinction AND he did have to show Tommy he meant business. Especially since he wasn't allowed to leave a 'physical' impression, this time either.... Maybe next time though. Alfie had told Tommy he didn't want to make a deal yet, but that wasn't quite true. He'd known the moment the bastard walked in, that this man could be either really good (or bad) for business. Alfie had also knew this man needed a better sense of humor too.

That was another thing too, you noticed. Alfie hadn't held back on the quips he'd be making during your initial 'interrogation' AND he'd actually let Tommy shake your hand. What the Birmingham gangster had yet to realise is that Alfie Solomons did in fact like him. If he hadn't there would have been a Shelby shaped blood stain on the dock ground minutes after he'd stepped off his dingy little boat he'd sailed down the Cut in. So the fact Alfie hadn't "accidentally" tripped the man down the stairs for interrupting you was definitely a positive sign that you'd be seeing the blue eyed man very soon...

"Fucking Hell! Little devil spawn really did a number didn't he?"

Distracted from your own inner thoughts, you met your husband's gaze as he finished his spin of the office. It was evident that Ollie (bless him) had already been through and cleaned up most of the scattered papers and toppled plants. During your short nap the cat had managed to undo the two hours of tidying you'd done just to curb your boredom that morning before finding the clawed culprit. So despite Ollie's best efforts, there was still a stark trail that someone else hadn't been on his best behaviour. Namely, the royal blue trail of tiny paw prints that lead on just about every surface in the office. Seeing them again, you couldn't help but feel guilty for you part in this.

"I'm sorry Alfie. I really didn't mean for this to happen. I fell asle..."

"Oh hush Dovey. I'm not mad at you."

Curiously, you couldn't help it as you tilted your head. You knew he wasn't furious, but you figured he would at least be a little frustrated that his couch was permanently covered in the cutest little stains ever. 

"What do you mean? You're not mad about the mass rampage?"

Shaking his head, Alfie only opens his arms to pull you close as he settled down in the couch.

"Nope. Infact I think it's rather nice timing the little bastard had isn't it?" And for the first time that day, Alfie willingly stretched out his hand for the animal to sniff. After two seconds, you both chuckled and the kitten practically faced planted in his effort to cuddle Alfie's hand. Shoving his nose as deep as he could into Alfie's palm, the kitten began to curl up right there. 

"Nice timing? Alfie, not only did he ruin the papers for your deal, but he quite literally almost threw himself to death trying to get your attention," you retorted, brushing a single finger along the cat's back. "And I have to add to Love, seeing you hold him in that hat wasn't exactly the message you were hoping to send was it?" 

"Na Dovey," Alfie shrugged and settled leaned further against the couch. "Those weren't the papers I was gonna give him. Just a draft of it if he wasn't a total prick. But I'd say he fail that test, Love. It's a good thing you came when you did. I'm not to sure how I feel about that fella. Bit of a bore if I'm being honest. Needs to be a bit less serious."

The last part of his words were mumbled as Alfie tilted his head back towards the ceiling again. Happily, the kitten had once again climbed from his hand to right below his beard. 

"Now what's that mean?"

Alfie didn't answer, only grumbled. Evidently you weren't suppose to hear that last part.

"Alfie...."

Shrugging innocently, Alfie avoided making eye contact until the moment you took his face in your hands again. You couldn't help but smirk, as his face fell into a small pout, reminding you of Cyril when he didn't get extra treats for his bedtime snack.

"....He didn't like any of my jokes? All those wonderful little tidbits that I spent so long thinking of to break the tension, and not even one little snort?" Alfie complained, his nose wrinkling as he thought of the stoic man's manner. "I mean really Dovey, he didn't even smirk at my 'Fucking Biblical' quip! How am I suppose to work with a fella who can't find the humor in that!

Gasping dramatically, you frowned sympathetically and ran you fingers through the hair behind Alfie's ears.

"Awe! He didn't even laugh at your Fucking Biblical joke? Wow, Alfie, Darling that's just cold. I'm not even sure how you survived such a mean man." You cooed, talking in the voice you did when you were mocking Cyril for not having opposable thumbs.

"EXACTLY! Barely got through one meeting with the fucker and that wasn't even about the important stuff." 

"Aweee, you poor dear. All that hard thinking and not even a smile? Maybe he was just a shy fella Alfie?" Smirking you,  placed a finger under your husband's chin and lifted it up as you tried to ease his 'sorrows' from a 'tough' meeting. "And by the next meeting he'll open up and become a real hoot?"

"Maybe Dovey. But I suppose we'll have to see then won't we? And if he still hasn't pulled the stick out of his ass by then we'll know what kinda man he really is," Alfie declared. "Any man who can't take a good joke ain't a man I'm gonna be working with."

"Alrighty then. I suppose it's settled."

"Damn right it is Dovey. I got a code yeah. And I'm gonna stick by it no matter what some suck up little Birmingham horse fuck thinks of it."

Jokingly ruffling Alfie's hair you laughed at his deceleration. "Good on you Love, sticking your ground. If he can't handle a bit of fun then he's not worth the time is he?"

"Not a single thought Dovey, not a single thought." Alfie stated, closing his eyes as his head remained facing the ceiling. The kitten once again meowed as if agreeing....

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

A peaceful quiet settled over the office. Cyril was asleep at your feet again, and you had taken to leaning against Alfie's shoulder watching the rain fall outside. The kitten was still snuggled up under Alfie's beard. Only his small but sharp claws and Alfie's reclined form were keeping him from sliding down your husband's chest. Alfie's eyes remained closed but eventually he had freed one hand to gently stroke the kitten's side. If one were to looked over at the pair they would have seen a small tail poking out from between Alfie's beard gently swishing happily. 

It wasn't until Ollie's phone in the next room rang that the serenity your little family had found was interrupted.

The sudden high pitched ringing scared the small creature taking refuge under Alfie's beard. With a whining hiss, the kitten clawed his way out of Alfie's beard and up onto his head, trying to get to as high of ground as he could. Alfie cursed as the small claws hit his face. And while you half expected Alfie to drop the cat in your lap and find the number for the nearest shelter, instead he surprised you. Before the kitten could put out one of Alfie's eyes, the man grabbed the creature gently and held him aloft by the back of his neck like you had done earlier. 

"Alrighty mate. Now that's just fucking rude isn't it," Alfie began, talking to the kitten with authority, much like he did with Ollie. "Because that old thing in there isn't gonna hurt you, and you should know that. It's just noise and there isn't any reason for you to go off like how you did, Furry. Here I am trying to be nice and let you curl up on my chest, when I could very well be cuddling up with me darling wife, your mum, over there yeah?" With a tilt of his head, Alfie motioned to you as if clarifying who he was missing out on in his efforts to be nice. Then with a manoeuvre you didn't understand, Alfie gently rolled his hand so the kitten was lying belly up in his palm. With a stare, your husband continued on his ramble, "And now you may not yet be familiar with the rules in this house yet, but when a man offers you a warm place to lay, you don't go trying to put out his eyes now. Unless he's trying to hurt ya or something and the warm chest was a trap. In that case, you draw as much blood as you can and give no fucking mercy, ya hear? So there isn't gonna be any more of it when I'm around yeah? We don't do that here and you're gonna stick to that alright?"

It was a rather amusing sight. Your big 'scary' husband telling off an animal that weighed less than a bottle of rum with the same tone he would his new men when giving them instructions for the bakery. You finally understood how true Alfie's words were when he said he wasn't a cat person. Cyril he had been able to comfort right from the start, but now it was as if Alfie was holding a small man who hadn't been meeting his daily quota. This man truly had no idea how to care for a cat. And it was hard to hold off a laugh as Alfie ended his speech with a gently poke to the cat's stomach for good measure.

While laying in Alfie's palm the kitten's limbs had still been somewhat curled up. But as soon as his finger hit the animal's stomach, his little legs shot out like a star. Pausing, Alfie moved his finger back, and watched as the kitten's legs pulled back into their original position like on a spring. The with childlike curiosity almost, you watched your husband slowly poked the kitten's stomach again, gaining the same reaction as before. And then again, and again, and again. Soon enough Alfie was playing a hilarious version of 'stick them up' as a small smile grew on his face. 

"So I take it he can stay?" You gently interrupted. Pausing in his movements, Alfie turned towards you and then looked towards the kitten and then back to you. Pursing his lips he tilted his head from side to side for a few seconds, thinking of his answer. Then with a heavy sigh as if making a tough decision he shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose we can keep him around for a bit longer Dovey. He's proved his worth."

Beaming you leaned over to give Alfie a kiss on the cheek ... which he turned into a kiss on the lips. Finally giving up his game with the kitten, Alfie placed the small animal on Cyril's back again so he could pull you over to his lap. It was you who initiated the kiss as you leaned farther against him, deeper into the couch. But this time, it was actually Alfie who pulled back first from the kiss before it got too far.

"Say Dovey, have you given any thought to what we're naming the Furball yet? Because I'm not calling it Baby or Sweetheart forever."

Pulling back, you sat up and thought. Then your eyes landed on the stained papers and an almost wicked grin grew on your face. 

"I can think of one name. But you have to promise to hear me out."

"Yeah? And what's that Dovey?"

"....Tommy."

"Fuck no," Alfie shot up with furrowed brows. "Why the fuck to you want to name the cat that? Not after that boring sickly fucker back there do ya? What's so great about him that he deserves a nice little thing like this being named after him."

"Well you just said why yourself Love," you chuckled. "You know exactly why it is a fitting name for him."

"Yeah and what's that....?"

"I mean, he is just a little thing after all...."

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

Down the hallway, Ollie jumped, startled by the deep laughter of his boss echoing from the office. But at the same time he smiled, know he hadn't lost any more space on his bed. Not today at least. The same thing wouldn't be said next week. When at the same dumpster, Y/N and Becca found three more kittens...

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

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TAG LIST (Based on what I've gathered from before I got off and what I think I refound, if I'm wrong and you wanted to get off a tag list or on one you can look at this post here and let me know :) )

Peaky Everything-

@raincoffeeandfandoms @zablife @theshelbyslimited @tommyshelbywhore

Peaky Romantic -

@optimisticsandwichgladiator

[queercanon13]

The Karma music video is packed with queer and sapphic themes. But what’s with that yellow beret?

We all watched the Karma music video on Friday (or Saturday), right? And then we all watched it ten more times because there IS JUST SO MUCH THERE. Right?!

I can’t even begin to unpack the whole thing yet, but let’s talk about the yellow brick road scene.

Taylor is obviously wearing ruby slippers (“the rubies that I gave up”) alluding to Dorothy/the Wizard of Oz. But she’s not wearing the rest of Dorothy’s getup. That’s because she’s not Dorothy, but in fact a friend of Dorothy.

She’s holding a broom (lots of witchy themes from her lately) and blows a kiss of blue (iykyk) glitter to three grim reapers (the two SBs and…?).

She’s keeping her side of the street clean, which harkens to the YNTCD MV where she clearly shows which side of the street she’s on:

Other things of note: it appears there are daisies embroidered on her collar, as well as growing along the yellow brick road. Her braids are also looped (“your braids make a pattern”).

The yellow brick road itself may be a nod to Elton John and his album/song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Here are some of the lyrics from that song, as well as a generally accepted analysis of the lyrics:

&

Seems like it would be super relatable to Taylor, right? Add in Elton John’s queerness/coming out journey, and the parallels continue.

There are probably a hundred other things I’m missing just from that scene alone, but what I really wanna talk about is the yellow beret, especially in light of current news surrounding Taylor.

When I saw the yellow beret, I furiously googled “yellow beret” + the names of Taylor’s muses, but I came up empty-handed. Because Taylor is specifically not wearing a Dorothy costume, I knew that fucking hat had to mean something. Then I remembered — isn’t yellow beret a military term? And we know she loves a good war story. To Google I went, and the results did not disappoint.

During the Vietnam war, all physicians in the US had a mandatory draft order. One of the ways to avoid the draft was to apply for a position with a Public Health Service program called the NIH Associates Training Program. Because the elite program was highly competitive, only a small percentage of doctors were able to serve their required military time without going to war.

Yellow beret was a self-deprecating and derogatory term used by and for doctors who avoided getting a green beret/going to war (yellow can be associated with cowardice, i.e. “yellow-bellied”) via the NIH program.

Sounding familiar? But wait there’s more.

Bob Seger wrote a song in 1966 called The Ballad of the Yellow Beret. It was written as a parody of the song The Ballad of the Green Berets. Here are some of the lyrics (I encourage you to read all of them!):

Verse 1: Fearless cowards of the USA // Bravely here at home they stay // They watch their friends get shipped away // The draft dodgers of the Yellow Beret

Okay, I’m seated.

Verse 3: Men who faint at the sight of blood // Their high-heeled boots weren't meant for mud // The draft board will hear their sob stories today // Only the best win the yellow beret

Oooookay.

Verse 4: Back at home a young wife waits // Her yellow beret has met his fate // He's been drafted for marching in a protest //Leaving her his last request

Are you screaming yet? Just wait.

Verse 5: Put a yellow streak down my son's back // Make sure that he never ever fights back // At his physical have him say he's gay // Have him win the yellow beret

And if that wasn’t enough, two of the last lyrics are “I've got a pimple on my trigger finger” (ew) and “well, we were planning on having children sometime soon” (devastating). These themes also align with The Great War, epiphany, etc.

But despite attempts to diminish their efforts through claims of cowardice, these “yellow beret” physician-scientists contributed to some of the most important and innovative medical research we have today. Dr. Fauci attended the training program, as well as nine others who went on to win Nobel Prizes.

Could it be that Taylor is trying to tell us that, while it looks like she dodged the draft (didn’t come out), she’s doing some important mastermind shit behind the scenes? Only time will tell, but since we are now at “dawn,” I believe daylight is soon to follow. ☀️

[darlingbabyboo]

I saw this and wrote it in, like, 30 minutes (which means I didn't even double check it lol)!!! Anyways, Mikey has a bit of a unique way of dealing with his son and food (and the reader is called mom and referred to as a wife).

Fatherly Love

The rumours true: the best way to a man's heart is food. At least, it's true for your boys.

It's common for your son and his father to connect with food. Whether they're watching a movie, playing in the park (or with Manjiro's motorcycle, which you swear will bring you to a heart attack). When they're together and food's not in one of their hands, you'd think that something was wrong or some alien doppelganger had taken and replaced them.

Maybe you should have observed their interactions a bit closer, because while both boys instinct is food in my mouth right now, your son's only four, and naivety is also a big problem for him.

You lean against the doorway and watch your son and Manjiro with one part amusement and a bigger annoyance.

"Okay bud, you know the routine by now, right?" Manjiro says solemnly. Your son, Kenji, returns the solemn look (though, the effect is a bit lessened with his big doe eyes).

"So," Your husband claps his hand and grabs your son's bowl, "I'm sorry bud, but this is the way that things gotta be."

Kenji nods furiously, "I know papa! I don't wanna have any poison in my tummy!"

Manjiro nods, acting like he's actually doing something instead of taking advantage of his young son's innocence., "yep, I've gotta do my part to protect you. I'm glad you understand."

"I do!" Kenji exclaims. Your son wraps his pudgy hands around his father's pant-clad legs and watches his father in wonder.

His father who opens his mouth and takes a big bite out of his son's taiyaki, leaving behind only the tail. You feel one of your vein's burst. It's a miracle that you're still standing after all the ridiculous things that you've been put through.

"Manjiro," You yell. For a minute, you reconsider getting angry when he turns his eyes to you. You're still so hopelessly in love with him. Then, you look at the tail in your son's hands and the anger is already running through yout blood. "What's is wrong with you. Our son needs to eat if he's supposed to grow!"

You move from the doorway to in front of Manjiro and your son. Standing in front of them, Mikey pouts up at you. You wonder where it said that you were going to get two children instead of one after Kenji came into you and your husband's life. "It's not like that." Your husband whines, "I'm just making sure that Kenji stays safe."

"Yeah, papa says 'at he needs to eat all my food so 'at I stay safe." Kenji rushes to defend his father.

You shake your head, your poor naive stupid son. You cross your arms, "Kenji, your father's lying to get your food. There's no poison."

Your son whips his head to Manjiro and drops his jaw, "papa, what???" His bottom lip starts to tremble, "you a liar." He whispers with so much heartbreak that you feel bad for barely containing your laughter. Your son doesn't use the word liar often and is unused to saying it. It's a little funny how he he stumbled through the word to direct his anger at his father.

Manjiro winces at his son's accusation and rubs the back of his neck, "well..."

You roll your eyes and lean to pat your son's head. "Let's get ice cream Kenny, without your liar of a father."

"What!" Mikey exclaims. You ignore him pick up your son.

You stick out your tongue, "you get what you get you liar."

[vivwritesfics]

Ok, so, I don’t know if you remember, but I’m the person who had a story to write. Well…I didn’t manage to write it back then and I almost gave up, but my teacher didn’t let me, so I was left to write the story during winter break and today is the last day from winter break and I WROTE IT! I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I still have to edit it to look for mistakes, but it’s written and I’m so happyyyy!

Anddd - about the NNTA blurbs, could you write one about how Carlos would react if Y/N decided that she doesn’t want more children? It’s ok if it’s not your style and you don’t want to write something like that

WELL DONE LOVEY! We're (my cat and I) are proud of you

THIS IS NOT CANON (non-canonical NON-CANONICAL)

Series Masterlist

Baby Oscar wore his floaties as he swam in the pool with his mother. His father was sat by the side of the pool, in his swimming trunks, as he did his work. Things had become a lot hectic since he took over as head of the Sainz family and, after a year of trying to sort things out, he was still as busy as ever.

But he still wanted to spent time with his family. That meant just doing his work around them, occasionally looking up from his laptop.

He grinned as he watched baby Oscar splashed around. Y/N had him swimming since he was nine months old, and he loved it. Carlos couldn't wait to watch his little family grow.

Y/N picked Oscar up and walked out of the pool. She held him on her hip as she walked over to the little slide that Carlos had put in place, and placed him on her lap.

Oscar let out a happy little shriek as he and his mother went down the slide, splashing as he hit the water.

Y/N knew Carlos wanted their family to grow, but she didn't. Watching Oscar grow was enough for her.

The thought of telling her husband made her incredibly anxious, but she just had to bite the bullet. Get it over and done with.

Holding Oscar on her hip she walked out of the pool and over to her husband. "Carlos," she said softly as she sat on the lounger beside his, Oscar on her lap. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Carlos placed his laptop down on the table between them and turned to face his wife, reaching for his son. Oscar let out a happy garble when Carlos grabbed a hold of him, moving him onto his lap. "What is it, querida?"

She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes for just a second. He loved her and he wouldn't do anything to harm her. "I-I don't want any more kids."

She said it quickly, falling silent as soon as she was finished.

Carlos took a moment to process her words. He nodded his head and fixed Oscar's dark, wet hair. "Oh my love," he said, reaching to grab a hold of her hand. "That's more than fine. You've given me the most wonderful son and that's all I could ask for."

He beckoned her closer and Y/N tucked herself into his side, her wet body against his warm one. His little family. His perfect little family

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal