#a duke and his duchess

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I hope you are having a woooooonderful Friday!! 🥰

I was the anon requesting the Lloyd fic with him accidentally discovering that his assistant is hot lol and I LOVED IT. I can see she won't make it easy for him!

I wanted to know what you would think of Lloyd running into one of those toxic red pill/alpha male types after they corner his girl (or who he claims as his girl 😏 that's up to you) being gross to her.

Those types just make me so mad, I think Lloyd would teach them a good lesson and put them in their place 😈

TYSM for your time and the lovely words you give us! 💜

OMG my sweet Lloyd nonnie, this took me two months to post but literally only like three days to write. I'm a whole mess, but I really like this story and I hope you do too!!!!

Title: A Duke and His Duchess

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2K

Summary: The night takes a dark turn when you are harassed at the club, but Lloyd comes to your rescue.

Warnings: Lloyd is a warning all on his own: possessive!Lloyd, soft!dark!Lloyd, lovey-dovey!Lloyd. Toxic “alpha male” behavior, Lloyd’s butterfly knife making an appearance, physical violence (some involving Reader), vaginal fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

The look that crosses his face says everything before his mouth can do so. He groans in the back of his throat, walking over to where you stand in front of the mirror, scrutinizing your outfit. He winks at you in the reflection and kisses where your neck meets your shoulder. His hands slide over your ample hips and grab a handful of your plump rump.

“Don’t you get started. You promised me that we were going out tonight,” you say, turning around and putting your manicured hands on his pecs.

“That’s not fair, Duchess. You put on this outfit, and my blood flow goes straight to my cock,” he sighs, pulling you closer so you can feel his heavy erection pressing against your mound.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you palm his length, and he hisses in response. “Is this all for me, Duke?” You squeeze him, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head back.

“Who the fuck else would it be for? I mean, look at you,” he implores, letting his eyes wander over your clothing. 

He was always a fan of this outfit because it hugs all your curves. The halter top accents your full breasts with a healthy amount of cleavage. The high-waisted fitted skirt shows off your wide hips and thick thighs and stops under your knee. A pair of stilettos with a little buckle that Lloyd bends down to secure completes the ensemble.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and praise the melanin gods that blessed you with the ability to hide your blushing. Lloyd finishes buckling your heel, then rises to his full height. Holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger, he lays a sweet kiss upon your lips before nuzzling his nose with yours. 

“After you, Duchess,” he croons, stepping out of the way and letting you walk ahead of him. You already know that he just wants to watch your hips sway while you walk in front of him, but damn if you don’t love how much he covets your body. And if you put a little extra oomph in your step, he wasn’t mad about it.

Lloyd stops the car at the curb and exits the car, tossing the keys to the valet. Walking around to the passenger side, he shoos away the other attendant trying to assist you in exiting the vehicle. 

Nobody touches you when Lloyd is around.

He takes your hand, and you step onto the sidewalk, taking in the view of the line to get into the club. Lloyd pulls you along with him as he bypasses the line and walks up to the bouncer. They exchange a few words, and the very large, and probably armed, man at the door unlatches the velvet rope and ushers you in.

The lights in the place are spinning in dizzying patterns with blues, purples, and pinks. The music is both heard and felt as it thumpingly exits the speakers. Lloyd waves down a girl and she comes running. You’re a bit confused as he whispers something in her ear. Before you can ask him about it, you’re pulled in the direction of one of the tables on the upper level that overlooks the dancefloor.

In true Lloyd fashion, he gets the best table, and there is already champagne on ice waiting for you when you sit down. He pops the bottle and pours you both a healthy amount of the bubbly golden liquid. He toasts to you, as always. You clink your glasses and empty your drink in one go. Lloyd is there to refill your glass, watching and smiling as you dance a little in your seat as the DJ rolls from one song to the next. 

The opening notes of Cobra hit your ears, and you can’t stop yourself from singing along with Megan Thee Stallion.

🎶

Long as everybody gettin' paid, right?

Everything'll be okay, right?

I'm winnin', so nobody trippin'

Bet if I ever fall off, everybody go missin'

🎶

You don’t remember closing your eyes in the middle of singing and enjoying the song. When you open them, Lloyd is sitting next to you, and he has that look on his face. The look that expressly means that he wants to watch you dance, and more specifically, he wants to watch you shake that thang. 

You don’t keep him waiting for long. Standing up, you set your glass down on the table in front of you. Moving over to stand in front of Lloyd, you let the music move through your body as you start to give him a little show.

You sway your hips, bending forward to lean on the table. With your ass in the air, you twerk for your man, and he is in heaven. When you make it clap, you feel his hands on your ass. 

He doesn’t want to stop you; he just wants to feel ‘the motion of the ocean’ as you dance just for him. You look over your shoulder at him, and he is definitely in his happy place. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips, his eyes laser-focused on your derriere until you giggle. Blue eyes meet yours, and his mouth upturns; that devilish little smirk silently tells you he’s pleased.

He moves his hands to your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap. Between your gyrations, you can feel how pleased he truly is. That is if the hardness in his pants is anything to go by. 

Song after song, you tease him with a lap dance. Making sure to grind into him this way and that, allowing him the opportunity for his hands to wander. As the music changes to something a little different, you notice that you and Lloyd have emptied the champagne. He offers to have another bottle brought over, but you wouldn’t mind walking up to the bar yourself.

He begrudgingly lets you raise from his lap. You saunter away, heading to the bar on the lower level. Ordering a margarita, you wait while the bartender makes a few drinks at the same time. 

You feel eyes on you and turn to see a man watching you from a distance. His hazel eyes catch yours, and you smile politely, then turn away. The bartender hands you the strawberry-flavored drink, and before you can pay him, a hand reaches over yours and beats you to it. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing paying for her drinks?” A deep baritone escapes his boringly pretty face, and you instantly feel something off about him.

“Can’t a woman just buy a drink without the third degree?” You pick up your drink and sip while looking him up and down.

“Please don’t act like you’re not impressed. Just calm down, baby,” he says.

“Don’t call me baby, first of all. Secondly, what do I have to be impressed about? The fact you can pay for a $12 drink? Good job. Not interested,” you lament, turning to walk away. A hand gripping your arm stops you.

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot. How about you recognize when a man is being nice to you? You must not be used to getting attention. Let me break it down for you: I buy you a drink; we enjoy a little time together. And if you’re lucky, I might even fuck you,” he negs, standing up straight so he towers over you.

“Let my arm go, creep!” You shout, failing to tug your arm out of his grasp.

The grip on your arm gets impossibly tighter as he leans in to speak, “Listen here, you fat bitch. Ain’t nobody here looking out for you. So, it would be best if you do as you’re told and be a good little slut.”

Your eyes shut tight out of fear, and suddenly the clench on your arm is gone. You open your eyes, and the man is still in front of you; his eyes are wide as a butterfly knife is held under his throat.

“Alright, man! Be cool! I wasn’t-”

“Oh, what? You weren’t doing anything? You weren’t treating my woman like some piece of meat, like what? Fucking toxic, red pill, alpha male wannabe. No, I bet you weren’t doing anything,” Lloyd seethes, pressing the knife a bit further into the man’s skin. “I think you owe her an apology before I cut your fucking head off, sweet pea.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I swear,” he cries, a tear escaping one eye and wetting his silk shirt.

Lloyd turns to you and sees you cradling your arm. His anger reaches a boiling point, and he moves the knife to his left hand before punching the man in the jaw and knocking him out. “Apology accepted, asshole,” he spits, stepping over him to get to you.

He carefully examines your arm while the other clubgoers start to gather. He turns back to the asshole, and you watch as his jaw clenches. You know he wants to cut this man up and feed him to the dogs, but you bring his attention back to you. 

“Duke!” You shout, and when his eyes meet yours, you pull him behind you to the exit. Once the valet brings the car around, Lloyd opens your door and closes it behind you softly. Walking around the front of the car, he runs a finger through his hair before entering the car and slamming the door shut.

He pulls away from the curb and starts down the busy street, mumbling to himself about how he wanted to kill that shithead for laying even a finger on you. At a red light, you notice his grip on the steering wheel is leaving his knuckles white. You reach a hand over to lay atop his, and he starts to calm down finally.

Then you get an idea.

You loosen his hand from the steering wheel and place it under your skirt between your thighs. Once his fingers meet your saturated folds, his shoulders relax. 

“You defended my honor tonight and slayed a beast for me. Now, either get us home fast or pull this car over so I can thank you properly,” you beg, already clenching around his digits.

You’ve never seen Lloyd drive faster than that night. You only make it to the driveway of your place before he adjusts his seat and pulls you over to sit in his lap with your skirt pulled up around your waist.

As soon as he is inside you, you get to riding, and you don’t let up until you’ve got him whimpering underneath you. You beg him to fill you, and he barely makes it through your plea before he’s emptying his balls inside your welcoming heat.

You lay kisses all over his face as he comes down from his high. As his softening length slips from you, you open the driver’s side door and exit as his spunk leaks out of you. You adjust your skirt and thank the heavens that the carport hides you for the most part. Lloyd stuffs himself back in his pants and follows after you. Locking the car with the fob, he steps ahead of you to unlock the front door.

“Well, I’d say our night out was eventful,” he jokes, and you are happy to hear that he’s not as upset as earlier.

“That’s one way to put it,” you laugh, kicking off your shoes and walking toward the bedroom. “Now, why don’t you come put me to bed properly, Duke?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, Duchess,” he purrs, catching up to you in three long strides. He leans in to kiss your lips, reaching down to hold you close before turning you around to nibble at your neck.

You love this man with all of your heart. For all of his flaws, he always gets this part right. He treats you like royalty. But what else would you expect? He works hard, and he loves hard. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[theroyalweekly]

This evening The King, The Prince and Princess of Wales, and other members of the Royal Family, attended the Festival of Remembrance at the @RoyalAlbertHall. Organised by @PoppyLegion, the Festival is an annual commemorative concert which honours all those who have lost their lives in conflict. -- The Royal Family

[theroyalsandi]

Grand Ducal Family of Luxembourg - Prince Francois of Luxembourg with his parents, The Hereditary Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Luxembourg, visited the Elysis accommodation structure in Neudorf, which has the special purpose of offering its residents art therapy and music therapy | October 24, 2023

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Unlucky Tug's season 13 & Hero of the Rails Retrospective video got me thinking about Spencer... As a character we really don't have much on him do we? (Which is ironically fitting since he's a private engine)

Come to think of it, most of what we know of Spencer are a handful of crumbs you can count off your fingers (that he's proud of being a speedster, that he enjoys his work as a private engine, that he's not overly fond of Sodor's engines, etc...), and just a few personality traits you can parse from watching how he interacts with others (which often amounts to him being a pompous jerk who cares more about his status than actually behaving in a way that upholds that status with grace). Other than that, we don't really know who he is or what he did before he became the Duke and Duchess of Boxford's privately owned engine...

Sure, he's an A4 Pacific but... Is he meant to be a specific one?

Every engine in the railway series and the tv shows has a proper basis one can refer to. Even if some of them are fictional members of a specific line of engines or heavily altered (Gordon as his class's imperfect but no less endearing prototype, Edward being a surviving member of his class despite all of the Larger Seagulls having been scrapped in actuality, James being a custom fleshed out in the series, and Henry being a personification of one class configuration being rebuilt into another, etc...the list is never ending here!) they still have a concrete basis you can look at and equate them to.

With that in mind... Is Spencer supposed to be one of the Silvers? The first batch of A4s that pulled the Silver Jubelee and didn't escape scrapping? If so, is he meant to be a fifth fictional member of the Silvers or is he actually one of them under a new identity?

I've seen the latter idea being toyed with a lot (and I do vibe with it because second chances at life freaking slap as a character arc!), but the former idea... The one where maybe he's a secret fifth member that was never really in prominence compared to his older siblings (overlooked and ignored)... It also does seem fitting doesn't it?

Especially considering none of his fellow Silvers survived.

What I'm getting at, is that Spencer strikes me as someone who's deeply insecure to the point he'll latch onto what he thinks is his (his status for example), and protects it with such jealous ferocity that it makes him a very difficult engine to get along with.

If he were one of the Silvers who somehow miraculously got bought by the Duke and Duchess of Boxford when he was going to be scrapped, it definitely makes sense why he tries to seem like he's more than he really is. Making himself out to be important would ensure he continues to remain useful enough that he won't see the cutter's torch so soon...

But it also makes him a potentially very unstable and volatile individual if he gets it in his funnel that someone is threatening his position/existence. Literally anything minor can be blown out of proportion. Including something as harmless as a cheeky little tank engine trying to show him up, and humiliating him in front of his lifeline...

Because trying to get a fellow steam engine scrapped due to a wounded ego is DEFINITELY a disproportional response to his petty squabble with Thomas. And his later reaction when Hiro rescues him shows this too. If Spencer were that much of a jerk that he is all for getting someone else scrapped, he wouldn't have changed his mind so easily.

Spencer's lack of a backstory not only bothers me, it also makes his behavior all that much more interesting to study under a microscope... Just what did he go through that THAT was the only way he thought was appropriate to get back at Thomas? Especially when later it becomes very apparent he didn't mean it...

Who were you Spencer? What did you see?

[margridarnauds]

Kitrye x Raphael Gifs 4/?

[thiziri]

Sir Tim Laurence alongside other members of the Royal Family on the balcony of Buckingham Palace during Trooping the Colour, on 15 June 2024.

[kingedwardviii]

The Duke and Duchess of Windsor celebrating New Years 1952 at the Sherry Netherlands Hotel in New York.

[royalchildreneurope]

Grand Duke Henri of Luxembourg, Grand Duchess Maria Teresa of Luxembourg, Hereditary Grand Duke Guillaume of Luxembourg, Hereditary Grand Duchess Stéphanie of Luxembourg, Prince Charles of Luxembourg, Prince François of Luxembourg, Prince Félix of Luxembourg, Princess Claire of Luxembourg, Princess Amalia of Nassau, Prince Liam of Nassau, Prince Balthazar of Nassau, Prince Louis of Luxembourg, Prince Gabriel of Nassau, Prince Noah of Nassau, Princess Alexandra of Luxembourg, Nicolas Bagory and Prince Sébastien of Luxembourg welcome His Holiness Pope Francis, at the Grand Ducal Palace in Luxembourg -September 26th 2024.

[defensivelee]

'so if you're from africa... why are you white'

[archduchessofnowhere]

Who from the Wittelsbach siblings do you think had the happiest marriage and who do you think had the unhappiest marriage, in your opinion?

I think Karl Theodor & Maria Josepha had the most happy marriage, while the least happy marriage was a tie between Maria Sophie & Francesco and Mathilde Ludovika & Louis.

Hello! Sorry for the wait. Although I can’t help but find the seventeen years age gap between Karl Theodor and Marie José icky, it does seem they were happy together. Out of all the siblings they seem to have had the most functional marriage for sure. Karl Theodor also had a good marriage with his first wife Sophie, though it was sadly a short one.

Helene and Louis both married for love to people beneath their status, though I can’t really say for sure how happy their marriages actually were. In Helene’s case simply because I haven’t found any sources that describe how her relationship with her husband Maximilian was, but given how deeply affected she was by his untimely death, I think it’s safe to assume it was a happy union.

In Louis’ case, we know that Elisabeth once told her lady-in-waiting that “It is a good thing that Henriette is his wife, for anybody else would long since have left him, and he is happy with her.” Valerie also wrote in her diary in 1884 that “Good Aunt Henriette is here and will stay until Saturday... When the attacking Uncle Louis isn’t around, Aunt is much more pleasant.” It seems that as he grew older Louis developed an erratic personality and was fit to burst of anger out of nowhere, which likely troubled his relationship with his family. I always trash Marie Larisch’s memoirs for being so unreliable, but I actually believe there is truth is this anecdote she recalls of going with her parents to the Opera in Vienna as a teenager:

during the ent’racte I whispered to papa that I should like something to eat. But I was not prepared for the wrath which followed this simple request. “Another word and I will box your ears,” he hissed. “How dare you be hungry at the Opera! And if you are, listen to the music and feed on its beauty.” I tried to follow his advice, but I felt really sinking, and although I adored the Opera, I was very glad to get back to Schönbrunn and supper.

I only can hope that these lapses in his personality didn’t occure too often.

My unpopular opinion is that I don’t think Marie and Francesco’s marriage was as miserable as it’s often assumed. While she did have a bad start with her husband, it seems that from 1868 (the year of their “reapprochment” aka when they started to sleep together regularly) onwards they had a good relationship. I just haven’t come across anything that really supports they didn’t get along in their old age. The only thing I’ve seen used as evidence of them being in “bad terms” is that Marie traveled alone often but so did Elisabeth, and no one argues that she and FJ hated each other because of that. Also Francesco II’s health was bad since the 1880s, so it’s not that weird that he couldn’t accompany his wife in her trips anymore (since he did travel with her to England in the 1870s).

Mathilde and Luigi were the most disfunctional marriage hands down, they had problems from the very beginning and their relationship only got worse as the years went by. They had been informaly engaged since Marie’s own marriage, and ok at the time it seem like a good idea to marry both sisters to the first and second in line of succession princes of a Catholic kingdom. But frankly they should’ve call it off after the Bourbons were deposed because the marriage promised no economic security to Mathilde, and even less personal happiness. Luigi got publicly drunk constantly, was unfaithful, and completely broke. On her older age Mathilde lived separated from her husband and after his death she had to depend on Elisabeth for support.

That being said, my answer to whom I think had the worst marriage is always going to be Sophie and Ferdinand d’Alençon, mainly because he had her locked up in a mental institution for months after she tried to divorce him. Which to me tops literally any other bad thing that anyone else on this post ever did to their spouse. But at the time everyone saw it as the right thing to do to “save” Sophie from herself, which is just sad.

Thank you for your question!

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Today is the first occasion on which The King will open Parliament as Sovereign.

Pictured here, the then Prince of Wales first attended State Opening in 1970, alongside The Princess Royal, accompanying his mother Queen Elizabeth II and his father The former Duke of Edinburgh.

7 November 2023

—

Take a look back at previous State Openings of Parliament. 👇

📷 Edward VII travels to Parliament in 1910.

📷 King George V and Queen Mary leave Parliament in 1930.

📷 Queen Elizabeth II, accompanied by the former Duke of Edinburgh, opens Parliament for the first time in her reign in 1952.

📷 The former Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall, accompanied by the then Duke of Cambridge, proceed behind the Imperial State Crown in 2022.

[theroyalweekly]

The King and Queen, The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, The Princess Royal and other members of the Royal Family attended the Easter Mattins Service at St George’s Chapel today. -- The Royal Family

[blackhazefanblog]

I really want to see Duke Artian and Nuadly’s reaction to finding out Lanoste was still alive. 

[sussex-sweetheart]

So the British press has gone from "Harry looked miserable at the Beyonce concert" to "Harry shouldn't be having a good time at the Beyonce concert because it was too close to the anniversary of his mum's death".

Like, imagine strangers, who never met your mother, telling you that you can't go to a concert because she died 26 years and 3 days ago... 😳

Apparently Meghan "twerking", which is so not what she was doing, is not "royal". Maybe they should inform their future King that dancing in clubs with his arms around women who aren't his wife isn't very royal. 🤣

[spiritundaunted]

The Duke of York making his speech at the closing of the Empire Exhibition at Wembley Stadium., in October 1925.

Gosh, you can really see how nervous he is!

I just want to give him a hug! 🥺

So nervous.... 😥 😬

Elizabeth always makes it better..... 🥹

(my first attempt at gifs so be merciful! )

Source video

[une-sanz-pluis]

Margaret Holland was a wealthy widow. She was dowager in the Clarence estates and co-heiress to the earldom of Kent following the death of her brother, Edmund, in 1408. From 1421 to her death in 1439 she administered the estates of her second son, John Beaufort, during his captivity in France. Margaret inherited Clarence's claim to the 100,000 ecus promised by the Armagnacs for the cancellation of the English expedition of 1412, and held the Henry crown given to Clarence as surety for war loans made between 1415 and 1417. Such was Margaret's status as a dowager that she had the unusual distinction of having a ship named after her: La Margarete de Clarence.

Mark Duffy, "St. Michael's Chapel, Canterbury Cathedral: A Lancastrian Mausoleum", Archæologia Cantiana, vol. 123 (2003)