#saw a bunch of engagement rings

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

I don’t think anyone will romantically love me in this lifetime

[thelostconsultant]

Double surprise

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wants to surprise you, but in the end you surprise him too.

Lando could tell Max was already planning to bang his head against the coffee table, but it honestly wasn't his fault. Maybe he was terrible at making decisions at the moment, yes, so what? It's not like he had anywhere to rush at this time, and if he was a true friend, he would stay to provide emotional support.

Because Lando was preparing for something big, and the first step was asking a jewelry store employee to jump in the hotel he was staying in with a bunch of engagement rings. If he showed up in the store himself, social media would be full of pictures within a matter of minutes. He didn't want to ruin the surprise. And it was also much more comfortable this way.

“Lando, just pick the third one. You said it yourself, that's her style,” Max tried.

With a thoughtful hum, the Brit picked up the said piece and took a better look at it. “Yeah, it's true, but,” he began, then came to a halt as he grabbed the last one the jeweler showed him. “I don’t know, the first one is a classic, but what if she prefers something modern and trendy?”

The jeweler watched him in silence, the patience of a saint radiating from his smile. He had been there for two hours now, it was already nine in the evening, but he not once made a comment about still being there. “Which one is closer to what she usually wears?” he asked softly, trying to guide him towards a decision.

Lando thought for a moment. “The classic one,” he replied while he took a closer look at it again.

One big, round white diamond with two smaller stones on its side, completed by a yellow gold band. It was clean. Nice. Something simply elegant for her. But then he glanced over at the other one and saw the curved white gold band with a big, pear shaped yellow diamond, and a voice in his head told him that was the one. People would go insane over it when you shared it on social media.

He looked up at the jeweler with a thankful smile, then turned to Max. “All right, I'm buying both. She'll get the trendy one, but if she doesn't like it, all I'll have to do is pull out the classic option. She can even wear whichever she prefers depending on the day,” he explained his master plan.

Max let out a sigh of relief and mouthed ‘finally’ under his breath, while the jeweler clapped his hands together and closed the box with the rest of the rings. Meanwhile Lando had a huge grin on his face, clearly satisfied with his decision. He solved the problem. Sure, it took two hours, but he wanted to pick the perfect ring for you.

Since he specifically asked for rings already available in your size–which he only knew because he stole one you wore on that finger–he kept the chosen ones and said goodbye to the jeweler after paying for the items. Once they were left alone, Max picked up the rings and took a closer look at them, carefully examining every centimeter, every curve, and every stone. As if he was waiting for approval, Lando raised an eyebrow at him.

“Good choice if you ask me. Seeing her disappointed in your taste wouldn't make you feel good, even if she said yes,” Max said with a short laugh before putting down the jewels.

Rolling his eyes, Lando stretched his arms above his head and fought back a yawn. Media day always took a lot out of him and today wasn't any different. Add the stress of making the right decision and he felt like a truck had hit him. “Thanks, mate,” he told his friend.

“When will you ask her?”

“She arrives tomorrow, so I guess I'll get it over with as soon as I can. I need an extra boost for qualifying,” he added with a laugh.

Max gave him a ‘good luck out-qualifying me’ look, but Lando was too hyped to notice. So he let out a sigh and decided to voice his only concern. “So you want to get this over with? Sounds romantic.”

“You know what I mean,” Lando said defensively, giving him a disappointed look that was mixed with the hurt feeling because he dared to joke about him not being serious enough about it.

“Well, tell me how it went.” Max patted his friend on the shoulder before standing up, then watched him with a small smile. “But I'm proud of you. She's nice and has a good influence on you… You chose wisely.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow at the track?”

Max nodded, then he raised his hand to wave him goodbye and left the hotel room. This left Lando alone with his thoughts, and he began to wonder if he would succeed. The two of you had been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, and he told you this trip was all about fixing that. You would join him for the race weekend, then you would stay in the area for a little trip, just the two of you, away from curious eyes.

His mother told him this plan of his might backfire, because you weren't entirely pleased with him right now, and who knew, maybe you would consider this a way to force you to stay in this relationship. He obviously didn't want you to feel that way, but he didn't want you to leave him either.

His phone buzzed next to him, and when he took a look at it, a wide smile grew on his face. “Hello, beautiful,” he answered happily.

“Hey, you have a moment?” you asked him hesitantly.

“For you? Always.”

There was a short pause, he could hear the traffic in the background, but before he could ask you where you were, you took a deep breath and began to talk. “So I said I'm gonna arrive tomorrow, but I won't.”

Lando felt like he was stabbed in the heart, like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “What do you mean you won't? You promised to come here, you can't just back out of it! Unless it's a family emergency. Is it a family emergency?” he asked, barely able to hide the anger that latched onto his voice.

You remained silent for a while and he silently cursed under his breath. How could you do this to him? You had agreed you would join him two months ago, there's no way you couldn't plan that much ahead back then. But then you let out a laugh, one of those adorable laughs he loved so much, and his anger disappeared at once.

“I'll send you an address. Get in the car and meet me there,” you told him.

“I'll be at the track all day and you arrive in the morning, don't tell me you won't–”

You cleared your throat to interrupt him. “I was talking about now, you muppet. Or are you about to sleep?” you asked him teasingly.

Lando huffed and rolled his eyes. But then it struck him, you were talking about now, you were talking about him driving to that mysterious location, which meant… “Wait, you're already here?” he asked you.

“Just meet me. There's something I need to tell you.”

And with that you ended the call. He didn't have the brain capacity to stop you, and it didn't occur to him that he could have called you back. Instead he stood there, staring at the screen of his phone until the notification popped up. He put the address in the search bar and checked the map. It was close, only a fifteen minutes drive from his hotel.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and headed to where you were apparently waiting for him. He was already standing in front of the elevator when he realized he left the rings in his room, and he didn't want to leave without them. So he ran back and picked up the two boxes, putting them safely in his pocket.

After a car ride that seemed painfully slow, he finally arrived at his destination. According to your message, you were right here, but when he looked up, he noticed it was a private clinic. Hoping this was the right address, he went closer to the door and it opened right away, so he went inside and tried to figure out where to go next. This place was huge, and at this time it felt like he was in The Walking Dead.

“Mr. Norris? Please, follow me,” a woman in her thirties told him with a polite smile, gesturing towards the elevator.

“Where are we going?” he asked when the door closed behind them.

The woman only watched him with a mysterious smile, probably perfectly aware of what was happening, but she didn't say a word. She probably promised to keep your secret, which was nice, but also extremely annoying. Why in a clinic? Did something happen to you? But you sounded happy, surely everything was okay.

Before they stopped, the woman handed him an eye mask and asked him to put it on. At this point he didn't dare to ask questions, so he did as he was told and followed her guidance after the elevator came to a halt. After she made him stop, he heard a door open and he was soon pushed ahead to enter.

He waited. Someone would hopefully come over to tell him what this was all about, and until then he decided to remain silent. And then he felt soft fingers trace his cheek, only to find the edge of the mask and slowly pull it off his head. There you were, happy and in one piece. With a smile, he was quick to pull you into a hug.

“I missed you,” he whispered as he kissed your head then buried his face into the crook of your neck. “What are you doing here? Or rather, what are we doing here in a clinic?”

“I have a surprise for you,” you purred into his ear, and he could feel your nails scratch the skin on the back of his neck as you spoke. It felt nice. He missed this.

For the first time, he took a look around the ultrasound room, and when he noticed the posters on the walls, his suspicion began to grow. “Wait a second,” he began as he took a step back and looked you in the eye. “Are you…?” He pointed at your abdomen with a raised eyebrow.

With a laugh, you took his hand. “I am. Eight weeks in,” you informed him.

For a while he was staring at you with a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he stepped closer to pull you into a passionate kiss. What started out as something serious soon turned into a series of giggles from the both of you. Lando was the one who pulled away, suddenly remembering something.

He excused himself and stepped outside for long enough to find the main ring’s box in his pocket, then returned with his hands held behind his back. There was no plan, at least not for these circumstances, so he had no choice but to improvise. You looked confused and he had to flash a smile at you to let you know it was okay.

“I… You know… Damn it. Okay, so there was a plan, I promise, but you didn't really leave me a choice. Pick a hand.”

“What?” you asked with a confused look.

“Choose a hand. Left or right?”

You let out a thoughtful hum, visibly thinking about the answer. Then you flashed a wide grin at him and said, “Right.”

It was in his left hand, but nevermind, he grabbed the box with his right one and held it out for you. “This is yours,” he said nervously.

The shocked look on your face made him worry, but it slowly melted away as you slowly opened the box and saw the ring inside. You took it out to take a better look at the piece of jewelry, and soon a smile grew on your face before you finally turned to him.

“What do you say?” Lando asked.

“You didn't ask me anything.”

With a roll of his eyes, he reached out to take the ring and took your hand as well. “Will you marry me?” You nodded without hesitation, tears already forming in your eyes, and he quickly put the ring on your finger before you could change your mind. He kissed you again, but he could tell you were looking at your new ring behind his back. “You like it?” he asked once he pulled away and took a look at it as well.

You nodded. “It's beautiful.”

Lando reached into his pocket for the other box, and showed you his plan B. “If you'd prefer something classic, here's this one too,” he explained.

“You're insane. One ring is more than enough,” you told him with a laugh.

“Well, I know how many shoes you have, this can't be any different.”

With a playful laugh, you slapped his arm. “An engagement ring is different, trust me,” you said as you leaned closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He looked around and motioned towards the machine in the corner. “So… Are we here so I can take a look at my child?”

You nodded and went out to ask the doctor to come in. Meanwhile Lando couldn't help but think about how much organizing it must have taken to get this ready, but he was honestly grateful, because it was a big surprise. A big and amazing surprise. This was one of the reasons why he loved you so much, and all he wanted was to make your life as good as he could in return.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After weeks of looking forward to a quiet day with you and Rose, Bradley almost messes up his own Father's Day celebration. He's lucky you're quick to forgive him. Every day with his daughter is a collection of moments he wants to commit to memory. Every day with you makes him fall more in love.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, blowjob, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Do you have any big plans for Sunday? For Bradley's first Father's Day?"

You looked up from your computer when you realized Cat was talking to you. Truthfully, you did have plans, but they weren't big at all. Your husband just kept telling you that all he wanted was to spend the day with just the three of you.

"Isn't it kind of Jake's first Father's Day, too?" you countered with a grin. When Cat sputtered instead of actually answering, you felt like you'd won this wrong of proverbial chess against a master. "It's okay... you don't have to admit it out loud, but I just know Jake is exceeding all of your expectations."

She dropped down into the seat next to you and leaned in like she was afraid someone else might be listening. "He took Jer to the park with Bradley and Rose the other evening."

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "I needed to clean my house, so I kicked Bradley out and told him to call his bestie, Jake."

Cat looked a little panicked now. "No, you don't understand. I can trust him to take care of Jeremiah."

"Yeah... that's good, right?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "When I moved to California, it was my intention to never ever get involved with a man again. Just me and Jer. And then when he went away to college, I was going to start collecting exotic pets or something."

You tried not to laugh. "Yeah, Jake kind of ruined that agenda for you, huh?" She buried her face in her hands, and to your surprise, she started crying. You glanced around the lab, but Macy wasn't paying any attention as you put your arm around Cat's shoulders. You were very confused as you whispered, "Are you okay?"

Cat's dark eyes were wet with tears as she met your gaze while somehow shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Her voice was raspy and uneven as she said, "He bought an engagement ring."

"Jake proposed?" you gasped, ready to jump out of your seat. You knew for a fact he wanted to, but he kept saying he didn't think the time was exactly right yet. 

"No. I found the ring. He's terrible at hiding things."

You sat quietly for a minute while she worked at getting herself under control, but then more questions started to formulate in your mind. "I know this isn't where you saw yourself, Cat. I know trusting Jake after leaving your ex is something you've struggled with, but if you love him, then what's holding you back?"

Her fingertips were pressed to her lips, and her hand was shaking. You weren't sure she had even heard your question as she stared off into space and said, "I can't even accurately describe it, because it was so pretty. The diamond was huge. Absolutely enormous. Obviously expensive." She paused and pulled away from you, opening her computer like she didn't just let herself fall apart on your shoulder. "And I have nothing to offer except a child that isn't biologically his and a crippling amount of debt that I'll probably never see the end of." When you opened your mouth to respond, she slammed her computer shut again and said, "And now I'm late to meet with Bickel," before rushing out of the lab.

You stared at the door for a few seconds before you took your phone out and started to draft up a text for Cat. You didn't see her again for the rest of the day, and you didn't send the text until you got home with Bradley and Rose. But you meant every word of it.

You're tenacious and strong, and that's worth a lot more than money. You're the kind of person someone would want to buy a big diamond for.

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

"Why is everything so expensive?" Bradley muttered to himself. "Holy hell."

He was trying to plan out the few days he would have alone with you when your parents came out again for Independence Day. Going back to the oceanfront boutique hotel in La Jolla where you and he had celebrated his birthday two years ago was going to cost a fortune over the holiday.

"Rose isn't going to need money for college anyway," he mused, shrugging at his phone before charging the room to his credit card for three nights. His daughter was going to be a genius. She was already so strong, trying her best to roll over and getting better at holding her head up without support. Suddenly he needed to see her.

Bradley tossed his phone aside and headed for the nursery where you were feeding Rose in the glider chair. When you looked up at him expectantly, he said, "I missed you."

Your gaze was soft as he sat down on the floor next to your feet. "We were with you ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago? No wonder I was getting so lonely," he whispered, reaching out to run his finger along the back of Rose's hand. "Hey, Nugget."

She paused, lips pursed, before she continued eating. It was unreal how adorable she was. Bradley could look at his daughter all day long and never grow tired. He could look at your tits dripping milk all day long, too.

"Let me burp her," he said, making grabby hands as soon as she started to slow down. "It's my favorite."

You handed Rose, who was already dressed in her sleeper, to him, kissing him on the cheek as you stood. "Should I just keep these out for you?" The way you gestured at your breasts left a smile on his face.

"Please. I would very much enjoy it if you did."

You stretched your arms over your head and said, "I'll meet you either in the shower or in bed." Then you were gone, and he was excited to burp the baby and then do whatever you let him do to you.

"Let's see if we can get a nice, big burp out of you so you'll sleep for a few hours," he muttered, pulling one of the many storybooks down from the shelf from his spot on the floor. He'd read every book in the room to her multiple times already, and he couldn't wait until she started to have favorites. Tonight he read about a dragon while he patted and rubbed her back, pausing every page or two to kiss her soft cheek.

She was yawning by the last page of the book, and she did indeed burp for him. When he set her gently in her crib, Bradley whispered, "I can't believe I get to be your dad." He stood there, leaning on the side of the crib until he was certain she was asleep, then he headed for his own bedroom, unzipping his pants along the way.

Bradley found you naked in bed, fresh from the shower and rubbing lotion all over your legs. It was such a mundane yet intimate thing for him to watch, and you didn't realize he was in the doorway yet. "Get in bed," you told Tramp, nodding toward the fluffy mat he slept on next to the bathroom door. "You can't play with Rosie any more tonight. I'm sorry, but she needs to go to sleep after Daddy finishes reading to her."

"I'm finished reading to her."

Your gaze met his as your palms went gliding up your thighs, and you smiled a little shyly at him. Then you reached for the sheet like you were going to try to cover yourself, and he headed for the bed.

"Please don't, Baby Girl," he whispered. "I was really enjoying that view."

You paused and let your eyes drift down his body. "Get undressed and come here."

He did not need you to ask him twice. Bradley yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside followed by his tee shirt and his boxer briefs. You giggled when he climbed into bed in just his socks and hovered above you like he was going to do push ups with his hands planted next to your shoulders.

When he lowered himself down to give you a kiss, you raked your fingers through his hair. He knew there was no hiding how hard he was getting, so he didn't bother. He just pressed himself against you while you licked his bottom lip.

"You're really horny, Roo," you murmured, and he simply nodded. You let one hand drift down along his scarred cheek, and then you were touching your tits. 

He was salivating immediately. He could practically smell you. White beads of your milk formed on your nipples as you gently squeezed yourself, and he whimpered your name. His cock was tapping against your thigh in excitement as he lowered himself down to kiss your lips again.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I know you want to. Go ahead."

Bradley sighed and came to rest on his elbows, letting his mouth meet your nipples.

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

You spent all day Saturday running to three different grocery stores to buy ingredients for Bradley's Father's Day picnic lunch. It cost a small fortune to get everything you needed to make chicken salad sandwiches on homemade bread, a charcuterie board, fruit salad, and brownies. Your plan was to get up very early on Sunday to start making everything, but now Bradley's words made you feel like you were going to cry.

"I'm playing golf in the morning."

He was so nonchalant about it, you thought perhaps he was joking at first. But his expression showed a tiny bit of alarm and remorse, and you knew he was actually ditching you and Rose on Father's Day.

When you spoke, you hated how small your voice sounded. "You said all you wanted was a day with just the three of us."

"I do!" he insisted, reaching for you and pulling you close. "That's all I want. I promise I'll be home by lunchtime."

With that, you excused yourself to go to bed. You didn't bother to set an alarm, because what was the point? Rose would wake you up when she started crying her lungs out to eat, and Bradley would already be gone with Jake, Javy and Reuben. Honestly, you would have thought Jake would want to be home with Cat and Jer, and now you were mad at him, too. You thought about texting him but turned your phone screen side down on your nightstand and tossed your glasses aside instead.

A few minutes later, Bradley climbed in bed as well, and you could feel him trying to coax you closer. "I love you," he whispered, but you stayed curled up in a ball until you fell asleep.

Sure enough, he was gone when you woke up. You didn't even bother changing out of your pajamas to feed Rose. Your plans to wear a cute sundress seemed pointless now as you tried to appease your cranky daughter while you made chicken salad and baked a small loaf of bread.

"You'd probably calm down if your dad were here," you mused, handing her toy after toy only for her to push them all away. Finally Tramp had mercy on you and plopped down next to her on her play mat for a few minutes.

Of course the picnic foods looked absolutely perfect, and you struggled to get Rose burped and down for a late morning nap. "I swear you don't act like this for him," you groaned, fighting the urge to start crying. You'd been feeling better over the past few weeks. Your body was becoming more your own again, even though you were still sharing it with your daughter. The birth control and the healing time were certainly helping, but right now, you and Rose came in second place to a round of golf. On Father's Day.

She spit up all over you before she fell asleep, forcing you to change into your dress anyway. The wrapped present on the coffee table along with the homemade card were enough to make you set a timer for noon. If he wasn't back, you were going to eat the meal yourself. Your stomach was already growling.

But Bradley came through the door at 11:58 wearing gym shorts and a tank top with his aviators low on his nose. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding a little bit out of breath as he headed your way. "You look pretty."

Did he think you were stupid? You got up from the couch and turned off the timer. "Where were you, Bradley? Because you weren't playing golf dressed like that."

His cheeks flushed pink at the same time you noticed something wrapped around his right bicep. When he held his arm out to his side, you gasped.

"Why didn't you just tell me that's where you were going?" you whispered, tears burning your eyes. You felt frustrated and embarrassed that you got upset in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured, wrapping his left arm around your waist. "I've been waiting to do this since you told me you were pregnant." You buried your face against his chest and let yourself cry. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I was golfing. I panicked when they called me back and said they could fit me in this morning. I just really wanted to get my second paper plane as soon as possible."

He held you tight with both arms wrapped around you. "You said you just wanted a day with your girls, and I planned a picnic and got you a present, and then you said you wanted to fucking play golf," you sobbed. "Next time just tell me you're getting another tattoo, okay? Because now when you say you're going golfing, I'm going to think you're getting another one anyway."

"Hey," Bradley rasped, tilting your chin so you were looking up at him. "I'm spending the rest of today with my girls. That really is all I wanted to do today. I'm sorry I lied to you. I feel terrible about it now." His brown eyes were sincere which made you feel a lot better, and now you weren't mad at Jake anymore.

"Can I see it?" you whispered, and he immediately started to unwrap his arm. Right there next to the large paper airplane that had Baby Girl written across it was a smaller one that said Rose in the same script. "God, Roo. It's perfect."

"Just like my girls."

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

Okay, so he came within an inch of completely fucking things up on Father's Day. It wasn't like he planned it that way. He wasn't even sure why he said he was going to play golf. None of his friends would even make a tee time on Father's Day and include him. Or Jake for that matter. Plus, Bradley was fucking terrible at lying. He felt apprehensive the entire time he was getting the tattoo done.

It didn't even really matter if you knew about it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be a surprise declaration of his love for his family. Instead he made you stress out and cry, because of course you had a whole fucking day planned. You loved him that much.

He was right there with you and Rose for the rest of the afternoon. He changed her diapers and helped you pack up the food along with a bottle of pink champagne that was tucked way back behind everything else in the refrigerator. He carried everything out to the Bronco and got both of you buckled in. Then he started driving where you told him to.

"Are we going to our wedding venue?" he asked after a few minutes, and you started laughing.

"Is that what we're calling the parking lot?"

"Sweetheart. That's our wedding venue." Rose hadn't been to that beach yet, and now he was excited. So excited. "Rosie, we're going to show you where Mommy first kissed me and fell so in love that she's incapable of being mad at me even though I didn't tell her I was going to get tattooed this morning."

Now you were laughing harder, and you turned his playlist up a little louder, and the sun felt a little brighter. When he pulled into the parking lot, he backed into the spot where you became his wife, and then he strapped Rose into her baby carrier against his chest.

Bradley watched you pull Rosie's little sun hat out of the diaper bag, and you kissed her nose before putting it on her head. "Don't want you to get too much sun." Then you led the way down the rocky path to the sand below where you spread out a beach blanket. You tugged Bradley's hand until he was on his knees, and then you kissed his nose as well. "Don't want you getting too much sun either."

When he remembered the sunburn he got the day of Mickey's birthday kegger, he shuddered, but you were already squeezing some sunblock onto your hands and smoothing it along his face. You smiled when you got some in his mustache, and Bradley leaned closer to kiss you, and then he didn't want to stop. You ended up on your back on the blanket with sunblock on your nose while Bradley cradled Rose's head.

"Happy first Father's Day," you whispered, running your fingers up inside his sleeve to touch the wrapping around his bicep. "Rose is lucky you're her daddy."

The lunch you made was absolutely perfect. Bradley couldn't remember ever having homemade bread before, and he ate two sandwiches in a row. You and he drank the champagne from the bottle on the blanket before walking down to the water. Your tipsy giggles as he dipped Rose's toes in the water made him smile.

"She hates it!" you cackled when Rose pulled her legs up and wailed. Bradley lowered her down again when the next wave came in, and she pulled her feet away from the water once again.

"Aww, Daddy's sorry," he said, lifting her up and flying her around in the air like a plane to get her to calm down. "I'll take you to Virginia Beach where the water is warmer," he promised. "And we can go to the cemetery and visit Grampy Goose and Grandma Carole. How does that sound?"

His daughter looked much happier at the prospect of warmer water and more time with grandparents. Even though Bradley was here with his family, he couldn't help but think about everything he missed out on. Everything he was still missing out on. 

He never had a dad to fly him around or dip his toes in the water, at least not that he could remember. All he could recall were glimpses of laughter and being lifted out of his crib. He could almost hear a voice, but he wasn't sure if it was even Nick's or if his memory was playing a trick on him.

Bradley held onto Rose a little tighter as you let your head rest on his shoulder. Your voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear you over the waves. "I wish I could have met them. I wish they were here to see you with Rose."

He knew one thing for a fact. "They would have loved this little Nugget."

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

Quite effortlessly, Bradley led you back up the rocks while he carried Rose and all the gear. As soon as the sun started to set, the wind picked up and the air got chilly. Even though you nursed Rose, you knew she was going to need to eat again so she could fall asleep.

"Oh, you still have to unwrap your present," you told Bradley when you got home and walked past the living room table.

"Right now?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you want to."

He started to take your shirt off, and you ducked out of his grasp with a laugh. "Not me!"

"I don't want anything else though," he rasped, still reaching for you, but you pushed him toward Rose on her play mat instead.

"She needs a quick bath while you open your present, and then I'll give you a blowjob after she's in her crib."

"Hell yes," Bradley muttered, scooping up the baby and the wrapped gift and heading for the bathroom. You filled up Rosie's little tub, and he set her down in the water then started unwrapping the present but keeping his attention mostly on his daughter. 

"Do you like it?" you asked over your shoulder, and then he realized he was holding a book. A book about him and you and Rose and Tramp.

Bradley flipped through the pages, staring in awe at the cartoon versions of his family. Each of you had been drawn as a superhero, and even the sketched version of Tramp was wearing a little red cape.

"This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. How did you get this?"

"I had it made," you told him. "I sent photos of all of us to a local artist, and she created the book for you."

"Damn," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at each page again. "I'm such a sappy mess now, I swear." Then he sat down on the floor next to you while you rinsed the sand from Rose's tiny feet and started to read the book out loud. "Once upon a time, the Super Bradshaw Family was just about to eat dinner when Super Dad Bradley's phone rang. The city of San Diego needed help, and there was nobody better to turn to."

The story was fun, and the drawings were silly, and he just knew Rose would probably adore this book when she got a little bit older. And he was so lucky he had a wife who did things like turn him into a cartoon superhero for Father's Day and make him a four course picnic lunch.

He also had a wife who dropped to her knees as soon as they were alone. You looked up at him as you pulled his shorts and underwear down to his thighs, kissing his cock as you whispered, "There's my Super Daddy Bradley."

He grinned as he pulled his shirt off as well, enjoying how pretty you looked below his flat abs with your hand cupping his balls. "You absolutely own me, Baby Girl. I'm a fucking wreck for you. I'm all tattooed for my girls now. If you want me to be your Super Daddy, you know I will be."

You licked your lips and parted them, and then Bradley was in heaven.

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

I need Jer to have a dad. I need it in my bones. I also need Bradley to have a sensational 38th birthday before he packs his bags and goes to La Jolla with his wife for three days in bed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

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[scarletwinterxx]

middle finger and promise rings - jaehyun scenario

helllooooo a fluff moment with jung jaehyun. I was scrolling through tiktok the other day and I found a compilation of him laughing and it was the cutest thing ever so now we're here😅

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics nad gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Jaehyun enters the apartment and the first thing he hears is your laugh. He hangs his jacket on the hook, takes off his shoes before walking towards the living room where he sees you lying on the couch giggling to yourself.

You spot him over your phone, quickly turning it off when you spot your boyfriend "Hi, you're home early" you greet him, walking towards him.

He smiles at you, opening his arms to give you a very much needed hug. He does everyday, without a fail. Whenever he gets home from work or somewhere, he asks for a hug from you.

"What were you watching?" he asks

"You"

"Huh?" he peaks down at you, still caged in his arms

"I was looking through my phone then I saw a bunch of videos, like from when we started dating until recent. You looked cute, especially when you laugh" you answer him

"I thought my laugh was loud" he chuckles, letting you to sit on the couch. You follow him, taking the seat beside him.

"It is. But I love it so much, you know you have this kind of laugh when you find something really funny and your face scrunches up in a cute way" you try to mimic it while Jaehyun watches.

You might as well tell him you'll marry him with the way you're making his heart explode right now. Moments like these are what he looks forward to the most when he comes home. The simple conversations with you, no matter how random they are, he cherishes them so much.

"Oh by the way, can we order chicken and pasta for dinner? Or chinese food? I can't decide, how about you what do you want?"

"Chinese sounds good, do you want me to call our favorite place?" he asks, already getting his phone out

"Okay, and this came in today by the way" you say, passing the package that arrived today. "What is it?" you ask, while waiting for him to open it

"I forgot, must've ordered this a long time ago"

Without checking the label he opens it. When he flips the unsealed package upside down, a velvet box falls on his lap.

The two of you freeze.

He should've checked the label. Jaehyun internally panics.

Meanwhile you don't say anything, waiting for him to do or say something. But he doesn't so you clear your throat, getting your phone on the table "I'll order, tell me if you want anything else" you tell him.

"Uh yea sure" Jaehyun swallows the lump in his throat, finally coming to his senses. Taking the box before excusing himself. You hear the bedroom door open and close.

After that night you don't mention anything about it. You didn't ask questions. You acted like you didn't see it. Jaehyun wondered if he should ask but he doesn't know where to start.

What do you think it was, did you have your suspicions, were you upset with him? These are the questions running in his mind. But you never said anything to him, like everything was normal.

He was debating if he should've just showed you what was inside. If you were thinking it was a ring then you're right.

About a few months ago, he ordered a ring after finally getting your size. He's still worrying if you'll like it. It's not an engagement rring, not yet atleast. The ring inside was a promise ring for you. You told him a story about wearing a ring ever since your teen years, way back before the two of you met. You bought yourself a ring, a promise to exchange it to something else when you get yourself a boyfriend.

You showed him the ring before, it was a simple metal band you used to wear on your middle finger. You never took it off, not a day. That was until he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Of course he had to get you a new one, he was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.

He forgot to check the email about the shipping and didn't expect it to arrive when it did. It definitely wasn't part of the plan to open it infront of you.

It's been a few weeks since then. You honestly kind off forgot about it. You trust Jaehyun will tell you in the right time.

Tonight, he's running a bit late. He got caught up in a meeting so when he got home you were already sleeping. He enters the apartment carefully, walking through the hallway and cracking the bedroom door slowly.

The lights were all off, the only light coming from outside but he can see your silhouette from under the blanket. Quickly but quietly he gets ready for bed, sliding beside you.

He turns sideways to watch you, eyes closed, face peaceful, breathing slow and quite. You're giving off the most serene aura, he can't think of anything else but you.

Your hand was resting open beside your head, he reaches a finger out to trace random patterns while still watching you. He missed you so much today, he don't want to wake you up but he wishes he can give you a hug.

He does that for quite some time, tracing things on your palm while watching you waiting for sleep to come to him too.

From random patterns, to short words. He's now tracing random words on your palm, like you always do with his. You always do it randomly, in public or when it's just the two of you. Most times you spell out the word 'I love you' on his palm, that was actually how you said it to him for the first time. It took him some time to finally realize it, and when he did looked over at you with a surprised look. Saying the same three words back at you.

Right now he traces the word 'mine' in yours, while his mind wonders just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

He believes this isn't the only lifetime he'll love you, it isn't possible. Wishing hoping praying that in all alternate universes, however many there are, that version of him meets their version of you.

Suddenly feelings emotional, he sits up on the bed before reaching for something in the bedside drawer.

You're a light sleeper, especially when you're by yourself. The only time you really fall into deep sleep is when Jaehyun's with you. That's why when you hear some ruckus from Jaehyun's side, you wake up from your slumber

"Jae? You're home?" you mumble, your eyes still closed

"Did I wake you? Sorry, baby. Go back to sleep, I'm here" he whispers. He pulls you towards him, resting your head on his chest. You cuddle him more, making yourself comfortable again.

You listen to his heartbeat to lull yourself back to sleep when you feel him take your hand that was resting on him, he puts something on you before you feel his lips kiss your knuckles.

"What are you doing?" you mumble, opening one eye to peak at your hand only to see a ring that definitely wasn't there before you slept.

You open both eyes this time, sitting up to look at it then at Jaehyun

"Explain" you tell him, gesturing at your hand

"It's a promise ring, remember you used to wear one before we started dating. It took sometime but I finally replaced that one, I didn't want to freak you out on our first anniversary so I waited until now" he explains

"Is this real or am I dreaming?" you ask him

Jaehyun chuckles before sitting up, now face to face with you. He takes your cheeks in his hands before pulling you towards him for a kiss

"This is very very real, my love"

"It's so pretty" you pout at the ring, a simple band with a diamond on it. Like a leveled up version of the one you used to wear

"I'm glad you like it even though I kinda ruined the surprise" he tells you

"I thought it was an engagement ring, not gonna lie"

He kisses you one more time before he pulls you down, settling you on his chest once again. "We'll get there one day. This time I'll make sure it's a surprise"

"But I am surprised, I love this surprise"

"And I love you, that ring is a promise to keep my promise of forever with you. One day we'll get there, one day I'll watch you walk down the aisle to me" he mumbles against your forehead, sealing it with a kiss after

"I'd love that, and I love you too"

"Let's go to sleep now, dream of me okay?"

[dadvans]

chick flick moments (bucktommy)

[i can’t stop thinking about tommy’s favorite movie being Love, Actually.]

Tommy hasn’t really talked or seen his family in roughly twenty years. His firefighting career has never been enough, if they were ever keeping tabs, to make up for his dishonorable discharge. And honestly, it’s been fine with him. His family has always been the suffocating kind of conservative and earning their love stopped being a hill he would choose to die on for longer than they’ve been radio silent.

Someone is keeping tabs though, or maybe the news of his recent heroics have a broader reach than he thought, because a few months after getting a medal for the cruise liner disaster response, someone reaches out. Tommy is hesitant to engage because he’s pretty happy without them in his life, but maybe at first it was a cousin or uncle, but that’s followed by one of his sisters trying to get into contact, followed by his mom, followed by his dad. And they’re persistent. Maybe they do want to make amends. And maybe he doesn’t need his blood family but there’s that tiniest part of him left that still wants that connection.

This is how he gets suckered into the most miserable Christmas dinner of his life. It’s not actually Christmas, it’s a few days before when the whole clan can get together, and it’s just as claustrophobic and awful as ever, every word spoken saturated in judgment and triple meanings that Tommy long since has lost the muscle to withstand.

Evan had wanted to come with him, said a whole bunch of shit about how they were PARTNERS, and how it could not be nearly as bad as his own parents were, but Tommy’s extended family holiday dinners are like a Los Angeles Miserable People convention crowded between the dining room and kitchen tables, and Evan’s still licking some wounds after surviving Gerrard’s brief yet nightmarish tenure back at the 118, maybe next time. This first round Tommy needs to do solo. So, Evan drops him off around the corner in the afternoon with a promise to come pick him up later that night.

Evan checks in with him pretty frequently, sending him stupid videos and things he finds on the internet, but Tommy gets hit immediately by some pretty barbed comments about being a grown man on his phone who doesn’t give a shit about the olive branch he’s being offered, so he stops checking so much.

Finally, halfway through too many glasses of wine and an early evening roast that make his memories of MREs seem like a pleasant dream, his phone starts going off pretty insistently. It’s Evan.

The doorbell is about to ring and i need you to be the one to answer it.

Well, that’s worrisome. He’s pretty close to the hallway though, so he types back: ok.

The doorbell rings. He shoves away from the table, waving everyone else back down. “I’ll get it.”

Evan is at the door. He has his phone out with a little plug-in speaker, and oh God, a stack of cue cards—

Unbelievable. “What are you doing.”

Evan enthusiastically hits play on his phone and as tinny Christmas music starts to play, holds up the first card: TELL THEM IT’S CAROLERS

He shakes his head. “Evan, even if they believed me, they would probably love that and would come check it out.”

“Tommy, who’s at the door?” His uncle calls from the dining room.

Tommy rolls his eyes and shouts back, “Planned Parenthood asking for donations!”

“Tell ‘em were eating dinner and to get the fuck out of here!”

Tommy looks at Evan pointedly, eyebrows raised, hands in pockets as if to say: well?

Evan flips to the next few cue cards:

I NEVER SAW THIS MOVIE BEFORE YOU MADE ME WATCH IT flip AND HONESTLY IT WASNT THAT GOOD flip BUT TO ME YOU ARE WORTH IT

“Evan,” Tommy says, softening.

AND I KNOW YOU THINK YOU ARE PROTECTING ME BY TELLING ME TO STAY HOME flip AND THOUGH WHATEVER IS GOING ON CAN’T BE AS BAD AS WATCHING LOVE, ACTUALLY flip OR HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS flip OR THE WEDDING PLANNER flip OR 50 FIRST DATES flip (I ACTUALLY LIKED FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL) flip I WANTED TO CHECK IN

Evan fumbles the cards to the hand holding his phone to pull something out of his back pocket, a piece of paper he gives Tommy, before flipping to the next card: I MADE THIS RANSOM NOTE IF YOU NEED TO BE KIDNAPPED flip AND WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE

It’s easily the stupidest grand gesture anyone’s ever directed at Tommy. He looks over the piece of paper, words threateningly put together cut out from Evan’s copies of Food & Wine and Men’s Health. He nods to himself, smiling, then looks up at Evan who is cheesing back.

“Yeah,” he says, feels for his phone and wallet in his pocket, before dropping the paper to the welcome mat and stepping outside, ready to escape back home to the only family he needs.

[christinesficrecs]

You may have already done a list like this, and if so I apologize! But if not, do you have recs for cute, fluffy fics where one of them doesn’t realize they are dating? Thank you!

Sure! This tag and this one.

Tumblr ficlet

the engagement by bibliosexual | 1.5K

“Stiles,” Derek growls the next morning, “why did Wanda just call me to congratulate me on my engagement to you?”

“Uh, because we are engaged?” Stiles tries. “We’re having a spring wedding with two flavors of cake, or did you forget? By the way, you still need to buy me a ring.”

Things To Do On The Dates You Aren’t Having by  lielabell | 5.5K

“So are we dating now or what?” Stiles asks the third time he finds himself doing the obligatory postcoital cuddling with a certain sour wolf.

five times Derek and Stiles weren’t actually boyfriends (and one time they were) by  HalfFizzbin | 2.8K

In which Derek and Stiles are essentially a married couple. Except they’re not actually dating.

Inevitability (About Damn Time) by  accordingtomel | 9.7K

“So?” Scott says.

“So?” Stiles sputters, kicking his shoes into the corner and locking the front door behind him. He’d whipped out his phone the second he’d pulled up to the house, and miracle among miracles, Scott actually answered. Of course, he’s not so pleased about that now. “My dad thinks Derek and I are dating, Scott. Did you miss that part?”

The asshole actually has the audacity to laugh. As if this is somehow hilarious to him. Worst best friend ever. “No, I didn’t.”

“This is not funny, Scott.”

“Yeah, it actually kind of is, though.”

big light by  stilinskisparkles | 4.7K

Stiles brandishes a bunch of daisies at Derek, “Saw these and thought of you.”

Derek looks down at the gas station flowers, lifts his eyebrows, “Because they’re dried out and a little wilted?”

How ‘bout them Mets, eh? by yodasyoyo | 1.9K

Derek nods. “‘K,” he says. “Night.” And as he passes Stiles he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Stiles goes perfectly still, mouth falling open, eyes following Derek’s progress up the stairs. He sees the moment when Derek realizes what he’s done because he pauses, his back to Stiles, hand clenching the rail in a white knuckle grip, posture totally rigid.

“Night,” Stiles says, voice coming out a little hoarse.

Use the Front Door for a Change by stileskolpath | 4K

The one where the Sheriff educates Derek on getting his shit together with dating his son. Derek is dating Stiles, right? Yes? Maybe? He’s really not sure anymore.

Important Things by suzvoy | 71.4K | Mature

Stiles learns that even with werewolves, giant lizards and psychopathic hunters on the loose, life can still find other ways to screw with you. Case in point: everyone keeps assuming he and Derek are a couple. What the hell?

[discordantwords]

Badly Summarized WIP Game

Saw this making the rounds and it looked like fun.

Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they’d be most likely to read.

Tagging some folks who might want to play along!

@thetimemoves @viridiandecisions @arwamachine @calaisreno @khorazir @totallysilvergirl

[dduane]

With regards to etiquette regarding authors and fan-works: how does this work with authors who participate in fandom subsequently writing authorized spin-offs or...whatever you'd call "I don't own this IP but I have permission to publish a thing"? Obviously "don't send someone fic directly so they can choose whether or not to engage" is a good rule to follow, but if you — as an example — read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel, is that then legally problematic?

Hmm.

Let's first sharpen up the terminology a bit, so we can all be sure what we're talking about. The owners of a given IP may not necessarily be the ones tasked with the actual business of inviting others into the property to create new material in that universe. So for convenience's sake let's just lump the actual owners and the ones managing the IP on their behalf together as "the Licensors". The person/s allowed by the licensor to execute this new art, or to hire people to do it, is/are the licensee/s. (...It's actually a little more complicated than that, but let's leave it there for the moment.)

Now, about your first question: let me head first for a situation where I've been in the past, so I can tell you what I did.

Let's say someone who's read Star Trek fanfic—not exactly vast amounts, but some, a decade or so previously—goes pro and then gets asked by the licensor, "Hey, wanna write a Star Trek novel?" When that happened to me, I let my editor know that I'd read some Trek fic in my time, but would do my best to avoid any storyline that was anything like any fic material I could remember. And for a long time I had an informal agreement with Pocket Books—noncontractual, but one I adhered to rigidly—that I would avoid reading any Trek fanfic while I was writing Trek professionally, and would only read Trek material provided to me by the publisher themselves. (This habit has persisted for a long while, as—these days in particular—there's no telling when the phone might ring...)

Back in the day, this approach worked well enough to be going on with. For one thing, Trek fanfic was then way thinner on the ground than it is now, and (being printed pretty much exclusively in paper fanzines) was far easier to avoid. It also worked because I had no desire whatsoever to take the chance of borrowing anybody else's material to begin with. Then as now, I'd have felt that would've been seriously wrong—and anyway, I had more than enough ideas of my own. ...And it worked for a third set of reasons, peculiar to Trek.

Early on, the attitude of (first Paramount, then Gulf&Western, then... who came next? Viacom? Anyway—) the corporate owners was essentially, "We own this IP; nobody should be writing fic in it without our permission; if anybody gives us grief about one of our books being like something of theirs they wrote illegally, we'll come after them with the lawyers." This attitude was markedly not Roddenberry's (at least early on...). He absolutely knew about fic, saw it at conventions, and largely seemed not to mind. This weird dichotomy of stances contributed to an atmosphere in which ficcing fans were inclined to walk softly, try to keep from being noticed by the corporate levels, and (if they engaged with Gene on the subject) keep it very low-key.

Now around the same time I was doing my first couple/few Trek works, the profic/fanfic interface started to get spikier. This was at least partly due to the problems that followed Marion Zimmer Bradley's engagement with a fan writer in her Darkover universe. At least partly as a result of this, various pros' attitudes toward people ficcing in their universes noticeably hardened—the emphasis shifting from concerns about personal preference to sharper ones centering on the writer's potential legal exposure. (Though the two kinds of issue did sometimes get tangled together.)

So that bubbled along for a good while in the background, coming more seriously to the boil when the Internet became a thing, and fic started to percolate through it in newsgroups and mailing lists and (finally) onto easily accessible web pages; and most recently, into platforms like AO3.

And this is where the question of ease of access becomes a significant part of the equation, and the picture shifts equally significantly.

I can't help but smile at the phrasing "If you—as an example—read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel..." Because though there may be some Tumblerini sitting at the bottom of the crater Daedalus or in the depths of Valles Marineris* who don't know about this, well, I'm a Sherlock fan... and this query is pertinent.

Let's say that Messiah comes, the King returns, and the BBC commissions Sherlock S5. And secondary to that, let's say that the production staff call my agent and say, "We hear you've got this hot licensed-property writer who's done work for all these different licensors. How about you ask her if she wants to write a Sherlock novel for us?"

And now we're up against it... because there's more than one kind of tie-in novel.

One is the kind where you novelize a script. Of agreeing to that I'd have no fear, because the boundaries of such work are tightly circumscribed. The writer's job in such a situation is to render the dialogue and visuals as gracefully as possible into prose, and otherwise to avoid unnecessary flights of fancy that might jar against the writers'/producers' creative vision. ...So if that was what they wanted, I'd pretend to think about it for a couple of days, and then have the agent call them back and say "Yeah, sure, let's do it." (And then the shrieks of delight would begin. Sometimes it's useful to live this far out in the country.)

But if they wanted an original novel? A new Sherlock story?...

I would have to say no. Because my AO3 bookmarks are hip-deep in Sherlock fics, and there is no way, NO way, I could say with my hand on my heart that I was sure I wasn't going to wind up, however accidentally, borrowing or restating something I'd seen of someone else's. If I accepted that job, and then (a year, two years, five years later) someone appeared with evidence in their hands and said, "You used a situation / language that's clearly mine", I would be utterly shattered.

And would it be "legally problematic"? You bet it would. Forgive me for not spelling out all the ways it could be Bad. But even if the situation was finally resolved in the friendliest way possible for everybody concerned, the fact of what had gone wrong would hang like a shadow over every other piece of licensed work I might ever want to do. (And there probably wouldn't be a lot of those.)

So realistically speaking, the ethics of the situation would make that a challenge I wouldn't dare take. I would walk away and try my best to keep to myself the annoyance that would follow. It'd be sad, but it'd be necessary: because the lines I expect to be drawn to protect me, I must also make sure will equally protect others. It's only right.

Anyway, thanks for the question(s). Hope I've sufficiently covered the ground; and HTH.

*I almost typed that as "Valles Marinaris". Yeah, the Solar System's biggest known crevasse now suddenly full of spaghetti sauce? I almost did that. Always proof your copy three times...

[rey-jake-therapist]

Speculation time guys ! About Galadriel, Nenya, Elrond and Annatar.

Charlie revealed something about season 2 that we didn't get to see yet : I can't find his exact words, but he said Galadriel's ring was especially important to him because of what it meant to create it, and wants it back (no "we were engaged but she won't marry me so I'm petty and want that ring back now" energy at all, right).

Now, in episode 4 we saw Galadriel trust Elrond with her ring, because she knew she would probably be killed or captured by Adar. We also saw Elrond in full armour (very sexy by the way) battling in Eregion. We don't have any evidence that Elrond and Sauron/Annatar will face each other, but it's very likely that they will, right? Since we see Sauron slaughter a bunch of Elves probably lead by Elrond...

So, we know that :

Sauron wants Galadriel's ring. And he also wants another shot with Galadriel : this isn't some shipper's fantasy but what Charlie said.

Galadriel trusted Elrond with Nenya.

Elrond will fight for Eregion, Sauron is seen kicking Elves' ass in the trailer.

Speculation : I could see Sauron beating Elrond and forcing him to give him Galadriel's ring. Then he could bait Galadriel with it, "if you want it come and get it"...

What' you guys (gender neutral) think?

[ferrariregina]

wine stain | cs55 × leclerc!reader × pg10

pairing: carlos sainz jr x leclerc!reader × fiance!pierre gasly

warning: 18+, cheating(in no way or form do I support cheating),slight smut, unedited writing, not proofread, first time writer.

summary:childhood sweethearts separated when carlos married his pregnant best friend. later, you were set to marry pierre, your brother's best friend. but, on your engagement night, you reunite with carlos, stirring up old feelings and complicating your future with pierre.

flushed face, eyes dilated, your styled hair in a beautiful mess down your back. anyone who saw you could only see how well fucked you looked.

your friends giggled while exiting the washroom to let you touch up, whispering how the engaged couple couldn't wait until they returned home.

you looked at your reflection in the mirror, aroused and ashamed. so ashamed you were afraid to face your fiance.

the sound of the door opening broke you out of your trance. you watched carlos enter, locking the door behind him.

"you left your ring," he said slowly walking towards you. your eyes went to your empty ring finger.

taking your hand in his, he slid the ring onto your finger without taking his eyes off your face. snatching your hand out of his, you turn to leave.

he quickly moves to stand between you and the door. "mi amor, look at me." he takes your chin in his hand, making you face him.

locking eyes you could feel all the emotions rushing through your body. crushing your lips on his, you pushed him into the door as tears started flowing down your face.

"no no, I can't-we can't." you cry out detaching yourself from carlos. "we shouldn't do this again" you wipe your face, eyes bloodshot, mascara stricks down your face.

placing a kiss on your neck he whispered, "we really shouldn't do this but tell me does he know about your sweet spots?" his fingers lingered on your neck. "does he know about the tattoo," slipping his hand under your dress he tapped on your lingerie line tattoo. "right here?"

closing your eyes, you bath into his lingering touches.

"tell me amor, does he make you feel like this?" he pushed you onto the countertop, bunching your dress up your waist he ripped your panties making you let out a hiss.

the atmosphere is charged with longing and desire as your bodies entwine. clothes fall to the floor as if shedding the barriers of the past, their noise muffled by the intensity of your connection.

a soft moan escapes your lips as carlos' mouth trails down your neck, igniting a fire within you. you clutch his dark hair with trembling fingers, surrendering to the forbidden love that has rekindled between you. the mirror fogs around you, an accomplice in your secret rendezvous.

the world vanishes as you lose yourselves in each other, pleasure coursing through your veins. whispers, gasps, and sighs intertwine with the rhythm of your bodies, building towards an all-consuming climax.

yet in the aftermath, as satisfaction mingles with regret, you can't help but question the consequences of your actions. the future you've built with pierre hangs by a thread, threatened by the weight of your betrayal. but in that stolen moment, as your bodies tremble and entwined, the forbidden allure proved too tempting to resist.

"we're stained," carlos murmurs between breaths, his voice heavy with regret.

you close your eyes, savoring the bittersweetness of your secret passion. you promise to yourself this is the end.

gathering yourself, you slip out of the bathroom and go to stand next to pierre with a fake smile plastered on your face.

"where were you? everyone was looking for you," he asks wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer.

"just touching up." you lie to his face as guilt eats you up inside.

"ah explains why you're glowing, mon cherie," kissing your neck pierre whispers sweet nothings as your eyes wander back to carlos who stands there leaning against a door looking at you both, as his wife walks towards him.

yeahhh okay i just wrote my first ever f1 fic and idk how I feel about it. make sure to leave your opinions down below.

xoxo

[kangdae95draws]

Oookay i just found your account and oh my god I am in love. 😭💖💖

Saw your post about our Royai headcanons and I have a BUNCH, I will just tell you what I have and you can choose which one you like

Roy is a flower nerd, so he always likes filling the burn areas on Riza’s back with flower drawings. She just lays down and sleeps as he draws on her 🥹

Riza’s earrings are their engagement ring. Roy was broke and young when he proposed to her before Ishavl ( they broke up I think.) so he was surprised to see her still wearing the same earrings he gave her when they met again.

Roy and Riza eloped in secret, and their wedding bands are either on necklaces under their shirts or I saw someone say that Riza has a bracelet and Roy had a necklace as their wedding band which I also love so much

These are few Of my beloved headcanons💛💛 I hope you get inspired hehe

Hey! Thank you ❤️

I took the second prompt, Riza won't ever say what's the reason :')

Hope ya like it!

[gaysindistress]

I’m having ✨minthara brain rot✨so suffer with me

bg3 masterlist

So hear me out; Minthara doesn’t end up with Tav. In fact, Tav goes off with their first romanced, Gale and they get married. Minthara is upset for obvious reasons but she’s not going to beg Tav to stay with her or anything like that. They’re both adults and she refuses to stoop so low as to damage her dignity like that. This leads to her going to the underdark alone and doing a bunch of badass shit (we’ll get there).

The epilogue comes and goes but that’s not where we pick up.

Our story starts about 5 years after that. Tav is being asked to do some adventurer shit that requires them to go to the Underdark. Something about Spawn going missing and Astarion is worried so he asks his friend to help out. Gale isn’t happy about it but he’s not going to stop them either. He and minthara weren’t exactly friendly or even civil most of the time so he’s not thrilled about it. The problem is that Tav refuses to ignore this request and will not say no, leaving Gale in a rather unpleasant position. All he can do is go with Tav and protect them.

Minthara has successfully taken back her family house and is in the process of rebuilding society following the defeat of the Spider-Queen. During all of this, she meets her bride to be, you. Among the many of forlorn travelers and lost souls, a small band of drow find themselves stranded and desperate for a miracle. Your house had been taken during a battle with the Spider-Queen and you have yet to find another house willing to take you in. Minthara comes across your group as her army and her are surveying recent encounters.

A rather foul squelching sound, that of a blade through flesh, rings through the air as Minthara leads her people into the ruins of House Lelith. As she approaches what may have been a a once elegant home, she hears small grunts and huffs coming from just beyond the archway. She sends three soldiers forward in efforts to flank whoever may be inside before taking up the back.

“If you’ve come to finish us off, speak now and I shall grant you the mercy of a quick death,” a soft yet powerful voice murmurs from her left. A sting and a trail of warm blood seeping from it brings shock and mild surprise but nothing is able to shake Minthara to her core as the sight of you.

She spares the briefest of glances towards you and is completely ill prepared for the pandemonium that washes over her.

“Speak before I split your tongue and cleave your heart,” you demand once more and press the blade more so into her neck. She makes no show that it causes her pain aside from the slight flinch of her skin.

“I hold no loyalty to that viper of a queen if that is what you’re asking,” she casually replies while her heart beats wildly. Your armor is in disrepair; bloodied, torn, and hanging together by haphazard threads but you still wear it with pride. The rest of you is a similar state with your hair unbound and wild while spotted with viscera but your beauty is unmatched.

“If not for her, then who?”

“Do you truly not know who i am?”

She can feel your eyes narrow and scrutinize her before you remove your blade and place it in its sheath.

“Minthara of House Baenre of Menzoberranzan,” you state as you prowl around her and stop only when you’re merely inches away, “A former follower of the Absolute and Oathbreaker.”

Her nose flares at your last words, causing you to chuckle as you cross your arms and lean against the archway. “Touch a nerve did I?”

“Are you one of her little spiderlings?” she instead asks, too overcome by you to engage in any form of clever conversation.

“I should think my declaration to sever your head from your body would answer that question, my lady. Or did the tadpole eat away at your brain more than we’ve been led to believe?”

Her small smirk is what captured you and from that day on, you’ve been nearly inseparable. Your romance appeared to be a complete myth as few ever saw you interact outside of political encounters. Those close to you, however, see the small well times glances, the softest of smiles, and the secret touches between the two of you. Minthara may not be outright in her love and devotion for you but she shows it in her fierce desire to protect you. Never out of sight of you, Minthara is always aware of where you are and who is near you. It is rare that she is even out of reach of you but alas duty calls and this is not possible.

In your private quarters, it is an entirely different matter. Her head is forever resting on your shoulder or in your lap as she basks in your warmth and affection. Many nights you take on the task of doing her hair. She lounges in the bath as you gently work through whatever knots and tangles hide in her moon pale strands. By the fire, she’ll rest her head against your knee as she sits between your legs and you brush out her wet hair. Her eyes flutter closed at the care you take to not pull or tug on her scalp. Quiet moans slip out when you graze her ears and when you chuckle at them, she groans out a weak demand to be silent.

“It is you who cannot be silent, my fearsome beloved.”

She’s told you of Tav but to be truthful it is too caught up in the trauma that she suffered under Orin and the Absolute. Thinking of Tav is often too difficult to manage and with you, there is no need to dredge up old wounds as such. That’s not to say you’re unprepared for meeting Tav but let’s be honest with ourselves, anyone would be unprepared to meet the Hero of Baldurs Gate. Everything is a whirl wind upon their arrival with Astarion making his presence well known, Gale and Wyll discussing whatever it is they talk about it, Karlach and Halsin playful daring each other to lift heavy objects. All the while Shadowheart and Tav are quickly discussing something with Minthara and occasionally asking for Astarion’s input. You are standing just beside the door, waiting for your intended and leader to give a command.

Tav makes a comment about the sheer number of people in the room and not so subtly requests the room to be cleared. Minthara glances around and with a slight nod her people file out, leaving the heroic adventure party and yourself. Tav throws a confused look your way as do the others but Minthara ignores it to lead them to the map of the Underdark she has displayed.

Nearly 10 minutes pass before Tav outright asks about your presence and once more requests that you leave. Ever the observers, Shadowheart and Astarion are quick to notice something is different about you. You are not merely a soldier, a trusted advisor even. Much like the first time you met, you’re causally leaning against a pillar with your arms crossed over armor that’s identical to Minthara’s. They share a look of an epiphany before attempting to quiet Tav however their efforts are futile.

As soon as Tav asks who you are and why you’re still here, you take your opportunity to humble the leader.

“Who I am is none of your concern. we are not on the surface where you can demand things because you simply think you are owed them. You’d do well to remember that you are in the Underdark. This is not your domain and thus have no semblance of authority here. All you’re entitled to know is that Minthara, my lady and my leader, trusts me.”

Tav looks absolutely stunned to hear you speak so directly and curtly but it is Minthara who has the most shocking reaction. She calls to you drow, beckoning you closer because you’re too far from her as is and she may or may not be feeling the urge to ravish you in front of everyone. Minthara may not be one for displays of affection but her not correcting you makes it very clear that you are the single most important person to her and she values you above all else.

Tav be damned.

[blues824]

Remember the female Kalim in the remarried empress.

🌞Remember how the sultan in aladin stuffed those crackers down iago his throat what if she did this in the beginning of meeting qween(because she can't lie she uses it as a excuse that queen wants a cracker. )

https://youtu.be/qFWRyJGxYzg

🌞Imagen her coming back for a visit and letting navier and heinley go on the flying carpet and heinley being the pilot because of his flying experience(poor mckenna flying behind them for safety reasons ) .

🌞Her teaching them the song and whole new word because this couple is so adorable and deserve to fly on a carpet and take their mind off the eastern empire drama.

🌞Her showing pictures of her 30+ siblings and her being the inosent sunshine she is saying I hope you have also so many children to navier and heinley so she can spoil them (that's after she learnt navier was pregnant.)

🌞Her giving navier a book on how to speak with animals (especially birb) and her trying to learn in with heinley in his queen form (I can imagine her being ether really good or her acedently making a cute mistake. )

🌞How would the relationship between her and kosiar be like now she can come visit them more I'm interested.

🌞How would the 2 gremlins of the eastern empire react to her return and the news of her letting navier and heinley fly on the carpet and how the intre Western empire found them so adorable.

I’m going to mess with the request a little bit so that it doesn’t seem choppy. 

Sovieshu

When he had caught word from some merchants that ‘The Jewel of Luipt is back for good’, he knew that he had to see you again. So, he invited you (and Duke Kaufman) to the Eastern Empire. Upon seeing you just as joyful as you were last time, and that you were permanently staying in this realm, he was hoping you would reconsider his offer of becoming his mistress.

However, you stated that you could never imagine doing something like that to Rashta, as she was his new bride after divorcing Navier. Plus, the Grand Duke refused in your place once again. Kaufman has been appointed as your guardian as he takes you around (really to Kosair, but anyways), so he thought it would be irresponsible of him to get you involved in a bunch of Imperial drama.

But, that doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t continue your friendship with the Emperor. During one of the days you were staying in the Eastern Empire, you were sitting in the garden and sifting through photos of your many siblings. Sovieshu noticed and sat next to you, and you started talking about how much you would miss your family back home. That’s when he noticed a golden engagement ring on your left hand, and his heart shattered.

Guess who popped open a new bottle of whiskey that night as he saw the woman that he ‘loved’ (read: was currently infatuated with) slip away from his grasp into another man’s arms: Kosair Trovi. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, considering that the man was in the Western Kingdom and under the jurisdiction of a different ruler entirely.

Rashta

Upon hearing that her husband had invited you to the Eastern Empire, she let out a gasp and a tear at how scared she was that Sovieshu would ask you to become his mistress. To be fair, she would be getting a taste of her own medicine, but you would be taking her original place in the palace. So, her super-pregnant self was very paranoid.

You, thankfully, reject Sovieshu’s ‘proposal’(?), saying that it would be wrong to do Rashta and their child like that. The Empress let out a sigh of relief upon hearing your answer, but she still couldn’t help but be scared that the Emperor would grow bored of her and continue to pursue your heart. It could honestly be qualified as a phobia at this point.

Eventually, during your stay, you request to visit her in her chambers. She let you in, and you both had a nice chat. You even said that you hoped she would have multiple children that you could spoil, and you even brought out some pictures of your siblings to show her. But, what you didn’t know was that as you were showing her photo after photo, you caused her to panic. She was flooded with the memory of Ian and she started hyperventilating.

The only thing that served her any comfort was the engagement ring around your finger. You were taken by another man, and you seemed to be happy with that. But she could tell that Sovieshu was distraught at this discovery. You didn’t seem to wish them any ill will, and once you had to set sail for the Western Kingdom you even gave her a hug and bid her good luck with the pregnancy. 

Navier

She was very excited to hear that you were back in the realm from your travels, and immediately sent an invitation to both you and Grand Duke Kaufman. Upon seeing you, she pulled you into her arms and into a hug, one that you gladly reciprocated almost immediately. It was like seeing your older sister again after years of being apart.

You told her about your visit to the Eastern Empire and how Sovieshu asked you to be his mistress, but you turned him down because your heart was in the hands of another man. Navier smiled as she remembered who you were referencing. She knew that her brother had been heartbroken ever since you left, so she saw an opportunity and our lovely lady is smart enough to take it.

During your 7th day in your new home, you requested an audience with the Queen in the palace gardens. This is where she would tell you she was pregnant and you would tell her that you missed your family back in Twisted Wonderland. You pulled out pictures of your siblings and showed them to her, but got restless as you exclaimed that you hope she and Heinrey have multiple children so you could spoil your nieces and nephews.

Once she saw the golden engagement ring on your hand, she let out a small gasp as she gently held your hand in hers to admire it. You made an uncharacteristically quiet comment about how she would ‘officially be your sister-in-law’ with a smile on your face, and she smiled at the irony. She was indeed very happy for you and her brother, and she couldn’t wait to see your journey.

Heinrey

Navier had told him that you were back, and he sent out a ship to collect both you and the Grand Duke Kaufman free of charge. He was there himself in the shape of Queen, but once you spotted him you greeted him by shoving crackers in his mouth as a gesture of gratitude. He squawked in surprise as he choked the dry crackers down his throat.

The two of you had a very close friendship because you were the one who helped him out when he was still trying to win over Navier’s heart. You told him about your visit to the Eastern Empire and how Sovieshu tried to get you to become his mistress, and the man rolled his eyes and said ‘typical’. He jokingly said that you didn’t have to worry about that because his heart was in his Queen’s hands and in her hands only.

After you had arrived and got settled in, Heinrey and Navier announced that there would soon be two children in the palace, and you let out a squeal of excitement at the thought of spoiling your future niece and nephew. You showed the two that you were capable of being a babysitter and showed them pictures of all your siblings and how you had a close bond with each of them.

When you got engaged to Kosair, Heinrey deemed it necessary to celebrate your engagement. He swears that he has never seen his brother-in-law smiling so much like how he did when he was just looking at you. The bird-man walked up to Kosair and put his hand on his shoulder as they both stared at you and Navier who were talking to each other: two simps in love.

Kosair

When he heard that you were back in the realm, he swore his heart started beating again. This man sent a letter to Luipt with a golden engagement ring attached, and in the letter he told you that he didn’t want to know your answer until you arrived at the Western Kingdom. So, until your family’s ship docked, he was waiting each day at the wharf.

Once you got there and the ramp was put down, you let out a scream of excitement as you saw him. You just about ran to him, grabbed his face, and pulled him into a kiss. The kiss went on until you both ran out of air and the Grand Duke Kaufman cleared his throat. But you then showed him your ring finger and he let out a gasp of happiness upon seeing the ring he sent you.

The two of you announced it to Heinrey and Navier once you got settled in the Western Kingdom, and the two were happy for you both. Heinrey threw a celebration for your engagement, and what you didn’t know was that while you and your future sister-in-law were talking to each other, your fiancé and your future brother-in-law were staring at the two of you like fools in love.

But, as time went on, you grew to find yourself missing Twisted Wonderland. Kosair sensed your growing sadness and you said that you missed your family and that they had no idea that you were about to be married. One day, he found you looking through pictures that you had brought with you, and he asked who the people in the photos were. You said that they were your 30+ siblings, and his eyes went wide at the number. You said that they would all love having him as a brother-in-law, and it made him flustered.

[demiesworld]

Omg I love your modern Hantengu quad squad headcanons 🥹🥹 Can I request some general headcanons on what it’s like to date them (separate or poly? You can choose-). Like how did they meet Reader? What made them fall in love? How do they show affection? What the brothers like when they’re jealous? Etc.

【♛ demie: im going to do them separately, bc as much as i can take them all (not in a fight) i dont understand the dynamic of poly relationships. but here you go anon!】

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐬𝐟𝐰)

pairings: sekido, karaku, aizetsu, urogi x afab!reader

characters: sekido, karaku, aizetsu, & urogi

synopsis: headcanons on what it's like to date the hantengu brothers (separately ofc)

contents: suggestive themes + swearing

notes: the hantengu siblings are all the age of 22 and are college students.

• let's begin with the oldest of the bunch sekido!

• INTRODUCTIONS. sekido met you through a blind date that his younger brother, urogi, made for him. his brothers were all sick of him always being at home and thought that he needed a girlfriend to get him out of the house. sekido was the first to arrive at the restaurant urogi made reservations for him at, and then you showed up in your best outfit, makeup done, and you immediately caught sekido's eye.

his jaw had dropped from your timeless beauty as you crossed through the floor to get to the table he was seated at. usually sekido was never a speechless man, but when he saw you, he couldn't think of words to describe you. your tender smile that you gave him when you sat down and introduced yourself made his heart beat stop for a moment.

sekido didn't have much luck when it came to women either. so during the date he was a little reserved and seemed awkward answering some of your questions. you assured him that he didn't have to open up to you so quickly, that this was just a first date and possibly there would be more to come after. he froze, but then for the first time ever he had a small smile.

the date ended with sekido escorting you to your car and asking if you'd like to go on another date with him. you said yes and gave him your phone number so you two could go over your schedules, and discuss it.

• FALLING IN LOVE. he fell in love with you when you were helping him baby sit his baby brother zohakuten. zohakuten could be a brat, and him and sekido would butt heads a lot. so sekido just gave up on trying to reason with him. but your motherly instincts came out when you were with zohakuten and you got him to actually eat his vegetables. sekido didn't know how you did it, but you did. and it was then that he fell in love with you.

• AFFECTIONS. sekido shows his affection for you through gift-giving. you would go to your mailbox or to your front door and see a package there from sekido. he bought you things that you would mention during minimal conversations and look at whenever you two went shopping. you have to beg for him to stop when the gift-giving become too much. he does like to hold your hand when you're out in public, but he doesn't kiss you on the lips. he keeps the PDA to a minimum.

• JEALOUSY. gets jealous when a man is flirting with you right in front of him. he trusts you around men, but he doesn't trust them. he would go up to them and demand that they leave you alone. as soon as they see the intense murderous stare in his eyes they would leave. when you ask him about it, he would say, "i don't like the way that fucker was looking at you."

• PROPOSE. i see sekido as being a traditionalist. so when it is around the four year mark of you two, he will propose to you. he is not keen on having an extravagant marriage proposal. sekido will do it in the most inexpensive way possible, while at the same time making it unforgettable for you. he takes you out on a date to the fair, proposes to you on the ferris wheel, and takes a selfie of your hands wearing the engagement rings on them. simple and sweet.

since sekido is a traditionalist, he would probably like to have a traditional japanese wedding but after you two have done yours. if you're from a cultural background, he would be easy to sway in having your traditional wedding first.

• PHONE. his lock screen is a photo of you during your birthday when he took you out to a restaurant. in the picture there's a birthday cake with fireworks on it and you were smiling so happily in it. the picture had a sentimental attachment to him because you had a bad week during the week of your birthday and the night out with sekido made it better. his home screen is you and him holding your hands and showing off the engagement rings. the diamonds in them were blinging too. your name in his phone is "My Forever and More"

• OFFSPRING. he only expects to have three kids with you, because he wants to keep the family small. he grew up in a large family and knows how it is with some children feeling neglected emotionally by their parents. he dealt with it as being the eldest quadruplet. you end up having a first-born son, then another son, and afterwards a little girl. which was perfect for sekido. all the children are precisely three years apart in age.

• INTRODUCTIONS. you and karaku met, not surprisingly, at a frat party. he wasn't a member of the fraternity, but was friends with one of the frat members and they invited him. anyways, you were invited by one of your friends who just so happened to be dating a member of the fraternity.

you were a bit hesitant to show up since parties were not your thing. you would rather be home in bed on a weekend night, instead of here surrounded by drunk young adults. the smell of liquor wasn't pleasant either and you kept covering your mouth and nose to prevent gagging.

you make your way outside to the patio to get some fresh air and away from the drunkards inside of the house. as you were coughing, and trying to take in some air, the sliding door that connected the patio to the house opened. out came karaku.

he immediately recognized you as being "akaza's girlfriend's friend" and introduced himself to you. he asked if you were ok and you came clean, you let him know that you weren't feeling this party at all and desperately wanted to go home.

karaku asked how you got here and you said you got there by koyuki driving you here. he was aware that koyuki and akaza were to put it bluntly, preoccupied at the moment, and offered to take you home. you were going to object but karaku insisted on taking you home if you were feeling disdain for this party.

to put it short, karaku drove you home and like a gentleman he even escorted you to your door to ensure himself and you that you entered your home safely. then a week later, at the college, you ran into karaku when he was with his brothers and started talking to him.

• FALLING IN LOVE. honestly, he was in love with you when you two started going out on your fifth date. what really sealed it for him was when you were pushing your first year anniversary and karaku's mother was becoming sick due to an undiagnosed disease. he wanted to stay with you, but you were adamant on him spending time with his mother. you told him that you will always be here by his side, and that his mother's health should be a priority for him.

now karaku was aware of how much you didn't like to be away from him at all. though when you said those words to him, he fell in love with how selfless you could be. so when he left for a while to be there by his mother's side and then returned to you, karaku told you he loved you.

• AFFECTIONS. i picture karaku as showing his love through physical touch. he is big on PDA, only if you're comfortable with it. so expect lingering kisses on your lips, hand-holding, his hand holding your ass, and him embracing you from behind. he likes to hide his face into your neck and smell your perfume.

• JEALOUSY. he gets jealous when guys are around you. he's fine when your with his brothers because he knows that they know their boundaries with you. but let him see you around another man other than himself or his brothers, he will get irritated. karaku would just walk up to you, take you by the hand and lead you away from the guy. when you ask him why he would just say, "i don't like the guy."

• PROPOSE. he would propose to you two years into the relationship. probably propose to you somewhere romantic like on the beaches of italy or underneath the eiffel tower in france during the night. he wants for the proposal to be flashy, and most important memorable.

the wedding will be held somewhere tropical. like the caribbean with everyone in his life invited. his brothers, his parents, his friends, his favorite teacher from school, literally anyone and everyone who met karaku.

• PHONE. totally has your name saved in his phone as "WIFE❤️️💍" even before he marries you. his lock screen is the marriage proposal with him on his knee and you in shock, the picture taken by a professional photographer, he doesn't trust his brothers with photos. his home screen is a picture of you in your clay face mask, laying on the couch sleeping.

• OFFSPRING. he wants to have just four children with you. his dream is to have a first-born son, then the rest of the genders don't matter to him. what actually happens is on your first pregnancy you end up having twins a girl and a boy, then a boy, and then a girl. they are all between two to three years apart.

• INTRODUCTIONS. you and aizetsu meet when you're at your job as a barista. you've never seen him before so you guess he was a first-time customer. when you greet him with your standard greeting he smiles shyly at you and quietly asks you what was any special drinks. you recommend to him the popular sakura strawberry latte. he asked you what do you personally recommend for him and when you go to ask him what type of drink he preferred, such as temperature wise, whether he was interested in sweet, etc. you tell him to get an iced coconut and pineapple matcha latte with whipped cream. he orders it along with a creme-filled croissant. after that he leaves and you thought you wouldn't see him ever again.

but no he shows up again to your job and orders the same items. sometimes you initiate a conversation with him while you're placing his order to get to know his character. over time you learn that aizetsu is a quadruplet, his favorite color is blue, he practices some martial arts, and he is an ariana grande fan.

it takes the umpteenth visit to your job for you to ask aizetsu on a date. you were thinking that he would never ask you out first since you get the sense that he wasn't confident. he admits to you that he wanted to but was afraid for your rejection. you take him out on a date to the aquarium then treat him to some ice cream. he says that it should be the other way around for him to treat you, but you denied that saying that a woman can treat a man.

• FALLING IN LOVE. aizetsu fell in love with you when you were showering one day and singing to one of your favorite songs. he was sitting there listening to you sing, while you were off-key at the high-notes, he did enjoy hearing your voice. he thought you were absolutely adorable, and when you got out from the shower he confidently told you he loved you.

• AFFECTIONS. aizetsu is not very big on PDA and he will not initiate it in public. you would be to the one to do so, but you keep it to a minimum. the least you two do is hold hands, kisses on the cheek, and linking pinky fingers. he prefers to keep lip kisses, groping, anything like that in private. he also shows his love for you with acts of service. for example, if you have a pet he would feed them their breakfast or take them out for a walk for you. he doesn't cook, though he will buy you takeout from your favorite restaurant. anything that you typically do on your own, he would try his best to do it for you.

• JEALOUSY. as we all know aizetsu is shy and doesn't know how to voice his opinions or to say no to someone. if he sees a guy flirting with you, he wouldn't know what to say to them, so he would just be there sulking. this is when his self-deprecating thoughts would start and he'd believe himself that he wasn't good enough for you. you, however, would just tell the guy to fuck off and go back to your lover. you would have to comfort aizetsu all night long just to reassure him that you would never leave him.

• PROPOSE. he would propose to you somewhere between a year and two years into the relationship. aizetsu would write you a long letter, confessing his feelings for you, and it would be at least five-pages long front and back. the ring would be taped onto the sheet of paper with the words in capitals, "WOULD YOU MARRY ME, PLEASE?" you look at him standing before you in your doorway, hopefully, before you run into his arms and hug him. accepting his proposal.

the wedding will be a private wedding. he would marry you in the privacy of a church with his family and close friends included. he wouldn't choose a best man because his brothers would be fighting for the title. so he wouldn't have one. when you walk up to the altar in your white dress, aizetsu would be crying at your beauty and it would be hard for him to believe he was marrying you.

• PHONE. his lock screen would be a picture of you holding your pet in your arms and looking at the camera with a happy, loving gaze on your face. you were fresh-faced, out of bed, but still beautiful in aizetsu's eyes. his home screen is a picture of you and him. you're both laying down on a blanket, faces turned to each other and kissing each other on the lips. his name for you in his phone is "LOML ❤️️"

• OFFSPRING. as the middle child of a five-member family, and accustomed to being ignored, aizetsu would be opposed to the suggestion of having children. it's not like he doesn't like children, he just doesn't want to have a child and distance himself from them. if you do end up persuading him into making a family, he would just want one child. you give birth to a baby girl.

• INTRODUCTIONS. you and urogi meet at the local gym he works out at. urogi damn near saves your life, because while you were distracted talking to your personal trainer, a guy who was being an idiot flung a 5lb medicine ball. he was throwing it to his friend, but the friend ducked and you were right behind him. immediately urogi sprung into action and dropped his dumbbells to intercept the medicine ball from hitting you. he caught the ball, however, he winded up falling on top of you, and you both landed on the mat. urogi got up and apologized for falling on you like that, then explained why he had to do it. when you understood him, he went back to the guy and threw the medicine ball aggressively at him. he berated him for being careless (which really is shocking, urogi was a reckless fool but this guy was on another level) and told him to be careful.

you were shaking to admit, because the thought of almost being seriously hurt overwhelmed you. urogi saw you being shook-up and he asked if you were okay. you told him you were fine, although he didn't buy it. urogi took you over to a chair and sat you down, directing you to drink your water to ease your nerves. after he had comforted you and saw you calm down he asked if you wanted to work out with him. when you brought up that you had a personal trainer he asked if he could join your training session and you agreed.

urogi outdid you when it came to squats, leg presses, and bicep curls. you went to the gym three times a week and always met urogi there. he would stop his own workout routine to join yours and talk to you. as you two got to know each other, you told your trainer you wouldn't be needing them anymore and instead turned to urogi for guidance in exercising. this is how you and him became a gym couple and an out-of-the-gym couple.

• FALLING IN LOVE. he fell in love with you when he took you hang gliding through the mountains. he was waiting for you on the ground while you were flying with a trained instructor down to the target. one of instructors he flew with said you were "a badass" with how you handled the diving and twirls in the air. urogi stood there staring at you in awe while he agreed with the man. it was after you came down to the target zone, and when you two were in the car when he confessed that he loved you.

• AFFECTIONS. urogi is very affectionate and vocal about his love for you. he's the type to text you at the end of a conversation "I love you", before he leaves for work he tells you it, and would just randomly blurt it out. he likes to give you piggy back rides, holding you in his arms, and kiss you on your neck. he doesn't care if you are in public or not. urogi will show the world that you are his. shamelessly likes to show of the marks you give him as well.

• JEALOUSY. he gets easily jealous of men and yes that includes his brothers. while he does know that they wouldn't try to tempt you into doing anything with them he still doesn't enjoy them being around you. this is established when urogi had took you away from aizetsu simply because you were helping him bake a cake for his girlfriend. when you confronted urogi about it, he just blindly kisses you in the heat of the moment, and confesses, "i don't like sharing you with anyone. you're mine."

• PROPOSE. urogi would be the one to take the longest to propose to you. not because he doesn't want to marry you, but because he didn't know when to propose to you. you would be in a six year relationship with him, before he would literally propose to you. the proposal would be at the hang gliding park he took you to when he first said he loved you. you were directed by some people to stand on the target zone and wait for further instructions. you were dressed in a short gold dress with fuzzy trim on the skirt and in black stilettos. urogi flew in on a hang glider from behind you, with an instructor and laned just feet away from you. he took off the jumpsuit he was wearing to reveal a cream-colored buttoned shirt, black slacks, and sleek black dress shoes. when he got on one knee and told you to turn around that was when he shocked you with the proposal. of course a pro photographer was there to memorialize it.

the wedding would be extravagant and memorable. im talking about releasing doves into the air, tons of people as the guests, and reciting your vows to each other. the wedding ceremony wouldn't be held in a church, but just at a ballroom his family rented out.

• PHONE. his lock screen would be a picture of your silhouette. it was a photo he took of you one night before you two did the deed so to say. to him it was sexy because he could see your curves while your identity would be anonymous to anyone who would see it. his home screen is you and him on your wedding day. he had cake on his face, that he did himself, and you were laughing at him. your name on his phone for you is "BABY GIRL💕"

• OFFSPRING. sheesh, urogi is expecting an army from you. he wants at the least, yes you read that right, at the least six children. unlike his brothers wanting to keep it down to a minimum regarding the amount of kids, urogi would want to have a big family. you give birth to him a first-born son, then a boy, then a girl, then twin boys, and lastly a baby girl. he doesn't let you have a break either because each the first three births are exactly a year apart, and the rest are two years apart. only because you lamented to urogi that you couldn't take care of newborns and toddlers at the same time.

notes: i had so much fun writing this! i just hope what i wrote matched with like the character's personality. anyways let me know what you think! reblogs and feedback is very much appreciated!

© 2023 demiesworld.  pls do not repost on any other websites. do not plagiarize. any similarities referenced is a coincidence.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Siúil a Rún (Alfie Solomons x Irish Fem!Reader, Modern AU)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Irish Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.5K

Warnings: Allusions to past violence & trauma, talk of the IRA, mild swearing

Summary: On a day you're not feeling your best, fighting yet another hard battle with your greatest enemy, your mind, Alfie has a little surprise prepared for you. After all, all he wants is to see you smile.

And make a lasting promise to his Irish queen.

Author's Note: Gods above, it's finally here! At long last I had the energy and time to finish this piece, which is partially inspired by my recent moods. Ah dinnae ken what it is, but don't you worry about my head or how I'll fix it. Instead, enjoy this piece.

TH Masterlist

Tag list: @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @zablife @vir-tual @liliac-dreamer @dreamlandcreations @mollybegger-blog @babaohhhriley @hoodeddreams13 @rose-like-the-phoenix

Alfie's POV

I’m no fan of the Irish, who can’t even remember what they had for fucking breakfast. However, right, they can perfectly recall their great-great-however many times- grandfather’s best friend’s cousin’s name and the unjust treatment he got from Oliver Cromwell if not the Black and Tan if they have a particularly clear check in with reality.

Yet here I am.

Engaged to my Irish queen, come all the way from Belfast. Raised in a family that supports the IRA, a bunch of hooligans that’ll do well to be tossed in the lock and left to drown.

But not her.

No.

She cut ties to home the moment she set foot ashore in Liverpool and boarded the train to London. She ain’t English, doesn’t particularly like them. So fancy the shock me ticker got when it turned out she liked me.

Or I her, as she likes to remind me, bringing up the time I asked her to taste the Irish sourdough I made her. She’d just arrived in town, wandered into my bakery looking like a parched twig on a stormy day, and sat by the window with an awfully glum face. Curious about this darling little dove who flew in, I lumbered over to see what had her caught up in her phone and laptop. One look at the screens told the whole story behind the erratic fingers flying over the keyboard or tapping away.

A place to stay, to call home.

In a land that had oppressed hers for centuries, still sees her as an outsider.

In the very capital of the cyclops, king of northern giants.

Now I, yeah, saw an opportunity to earn a little extra cash on the side. Sure, Margate is about two hours outside London by train so I couldn’t charge the full price for the room I had left over.

I didn’t.

For when those dove eyes turned to me, haunted and scared to death, whether it be due to her circumstances or me as a man I still do not know nor want to, I hadn’t the guts to ask her for a single penny.

Only a sliver of trust.

Though my rings, my kingdom, are covered in blood, I fortunately pleased Yahweh enough to have her put her trust in me. It’s a fragile thing, built over various meals, starting with silent breakfasts which gradually have filled with drowsy small talk. Normally I loathe small talk because if someone wants to say something and wants me to understand, they should talk. Nonetheless, Y/N doesn’t have to. Her voice is like an angel’s song, pleasant to wake up with.

And to fall asleep to on the nights the insomnia hits hard again. You get that, living a life of violence. Yet, even gods can’t simply forget.

I can only hide my crimes, spin a pretty yarn for an excuse, and pretend.

Pretend I’m a good man.

For her. 

If only because my midnight baking episodes have reduced since we met. Because I don’t, no, can’t do without those small hands leading me out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to what is now our bedroom. Pathetic, innit, how I also can’t live without those pretty fingers running through my beard until I can breathe normally. Close my eyes without ghosts creeping from the darkest shadows of my mind. To not feel the rage simmering beneath my skin.

For the first time in years, I can sleep again.

And if neither of us can find peace in slumber, we’ll slip into the old habit of having coffee or tea in the living room until the sun rises. No matter if we have an outing planned the next day or not.

It was on an outing like that, to Oxford, after a brief visit to that shithole called Birmingham, she first held my finger.

Two weeks later, when we popped by Hastings, she held my hand.

A month passed before she hugged me, in Cecil Court, during our first book and antiques shop hopping trip. I had bought her a vintage bound copy of one of her favourite books, Gods and Fighting Men by Lady Gregory.

However, it was in Camden, right outside me own bakery, on a bloody rotten autumn day, we first kissed. Cinnamon sugar and pumpkin spice, that’s what she tasted like.

My Irish queen.

Y/N will always claim it’s me who first confessed. Regardless of whether that’s true or not, in my opinion, right, and through genuine testimony, it was her wistful smile and timid ‘thank you’ as I served her a ham sandwich made with the sourdough I learned during one of my visits from a lovely old lady in Donegal and O’Neills ham which makes her the first to confess. Little did I know the brooding sadness around her could get much worse.

Since there are days she gets like this, reluctant to interact with the world. She’ll go out with Cyril, a barely mustered smile on her gentle face. 

It does her good. Our big bugger takes me on walks that are manageable even when my leg’s bad and her on those long enough to let her mind wander and forget about the desire to stay home. Like yesterday, they are again sitting side by side on the shore.

Y/N wrapped in my coat and scarf.

Cyril at her side.

Watching the waves.

Funny, innit, how a man of many words absolutely can’t stand the silence of his own house. Tragic, too, because it means he can’t live with himself. Perhaps that’s why I always bury myself in work, the bakery.

Our bakery.

Look, Y/N was the one who insisted on helping out. I was ready to give her board and room for free, though I was also desperate for help since business had taken a hit. Too cold, manly, rough. In need of a woman’s touch.

It was only when she told me it ain’t right to accept the offer without repaying the debt she never had and called me mister Solomons I took her on.

Mostly because she’d call me Alfie right from the start, wouldn’t see me as her boss or landlord. I never was nor am a fan of formalities, polite behaviour or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. You only get to know a person and their intentions once you place them in an informal environment, lull them into a sense of safety. Or, in her case, a sense of friendship too.

After a few more moments of watching them from the balcony, I head back inside to busy myself in the kitchen. Now, normally, yeah, on my rare day off, I love to bake. Gets the mind off things since you only have to focus on what your hands are doing and you get the ingredients right. Alleviates some of the stress the bakery saddles me up with, but those involved with the business need discipline so I can’t take a break. Would leave it to the dogs. Regardless, Ollie, the bloody bastard I hired as an assistant branch manager, forbade me to come into work. It’s my fucking bakery! Yet, though I’m loath to admit it, I am thankful he did this particular day. Must’ve felt Y/N had been different these past days, always has been good at dealing with people and emotions despite his panicky disposition. Better than me.

At least leaves her with one person to understand her entirely whereas I still grasp at straws at times.

Godhood comes with its complications, but I’ll do my best for Y/N.

For Mrs Solomons.

It’s worth the tightening in my chest, the battle for air while the same concerns keep milling in my noggin like some damned ever-turning grinding stone. I ain’t afraid of anything.

Anything except this mood.

It’s like Yahweh has established the terrifying truth of what she might be like when me health finally wins the battle, granting me a vision of a future in which we’re separated. Or perhaps it is an alternate reality in which I don’t exist or we’ve even never met. This morning, as Y/N stood by the door, her vacant gaze saw right through me as I draped my scarf around her neck. I kept rambling, not nagging, no, rambling on about how she’d catch a cold if she didn’t dress warmly despite knowing she wasn’t paying attention. As I placed a kiss on her forehead she likely didn’t feel, the comforting sense of normalcy shattered, turned into dust along with the little bit of sanity I had established by acting like everything was fine. Thankfully she felt warm in my arms because we might as well have been spectres moving past each other. Then she sauntered out the door, slow and ghostly.

My beautiful Irish queen.

When this mood strikes her, it takes away her voice. She won’t talk, reluctant to participate in any sort of conversation. Although, I think she hopes her quietness proves enough of a hint to not want to be surrounded by any voices at all. Not even mine. Now, any other man, right, any other sod who’s too self-obsessed to understand his girl, would go mad. I, on the other hand, the very image of an understanding and wise man who cares about his girl, his wife, speak less if at all to accommodate her. Instead, in the fleeting moments she’s here, Y/N communicates via small gestures.

A tug on my sleeve when she wants attention.

A brush over my fingers, a silent request for guidance.

We don’t go out in London on days like this. We tried once and while everything went fine, all things considered, the thought something happens in the split second I don’t pay attention breaks my already damaged nerves. Trafalgar Square is tricky enough as is to navigate with the fucking awful traffic, but when she’s barely here and we don’t cross the street in time or our hands let go of each other…

Eyes squeezed shut, I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly to remedy the tightening in my chest. To burn the claws crushing my ribs to ashes and let them take the nauseating vision in my banged up nogging with them. Blown away on the briny wind outside, past the lonely beach.

Left to drown in the sea across the road.

Right in front of her, vanishing beneath the waves. Cyril will make sure she won’t notice, keeps an eye on her when I can’t.

Especially when I’m too caught up in my own head, engulfed by something very, very grim. 

Eyes closed, I breathe in and exhale deeply as I repeat the thought like the verses in the Torah, embedding it further and further into my entire tainted being with each repetition. Only when my breathing has evened out and me ticker beats at regular intervals do I carry on.

I quit drinking after we met. Y/N needed a safe home and with an old drunk brute you ain’t going to find that. So I poured the rum, beer, and wine down the drain the very same evening and a drop hasn’t entered my house since. The day she first put her suitcase across the threshold, I’d been sober for a week.

We’re now a year further.

For all the bloody good he does me by banning me from my own business, Ollie makes for a fine lifestyle coach. I’ll admit that if it hadn’t been for him, his incessant texts and the brave efforts to pluck a glass from my hands, I might have lost her. Fuck, she might have hated me.

Or we might never have even met.

The house now finally knows silence.

No violent words. 

No drunk ravings going nowhere and anywhere.

True, genuine, silence.

I put the kettle on and pull the sourdough from the bread box. Bought it on our last trip abroad, to Amsterdam. It’s one of the things in this house which makes it ours because I used to plonk bread in a zipper bag and toss it on the counter. Not anymore. It goes in the box.

The mixed fruit blend I used for the dough we recently bought at Borough Market. Y/N was staring at it with a tender look on her face.

“Those special, love?” I hugged her from behind, my head on her shoulder. That morning, she had washed her hair and granted me the intense honour of brushing it. A smile grew on her lips in tandem with mine as I worked the brush through her strands. Nonetheless, while I was flattered and delighted beyond imagination, for being thus allowed in her space is a rare gift every man should know how to appreciate properly, she was amused with my attitude. But it’s alright. I don’t mind her laughing at me. 

Eyes closed, I drank in her presence. The sounds of the food stalls and crowd faded into a background hum, each sense overtaken by her frame in my arms and the scent of Argan oil and Shea butter in my nose. In that single moment, I didn’t have to think, to scheme. Just be.

With her, I can just be.

And I like that, makes me love her all the more.

Y/N regularly gives me an earful, but there are times when I truly listen and not only enjoy the sound of her voice. So when she gave me a piece of her story, I immediately snapped out of my reverie. “Nan used a blend of these when making brack.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of bread with sultanas and raisins. Officially, that is. But she added currants and other dried fruits when we had it and it wasn’t Samhain.”

“Tell me about the tradition. What does bread ‘ave to do with it?”

“We’d put items in the brack. A pea, a stick, a piece of cloth, a small coin, a ring, and a bean. Each of these items had a special meaning, applicable to the person who got them.”

“Which were?”

Occasionally, right, I enjoy teasing her because I adore the way her frown naturally flows into a bright smile as her distrust melts away. However, the calculating coldness in her stare even gave me the chills. Terrible, it was, and I don’t say that lightly. “Alfie, where’s this coming from? I thought you hated the Irish.”

I thought you hated me.

She didn’t say it, but the words were there, precariously dancing on the tip of her tongue. The shopkeeper gave me a warning look, ready to beat me with her cane if I didn’t watch my mouth.

“It’s your culture, innit, love?’’ I said, quick to placate both women lest we had more than a simple situation on our hands. Moreover, dangerous as it normally is, curiosity genuinely got the better of me. There’s little I know of her previous life so I am overjoyed when my Irish queen, obviously unintentionally, indulges me like this. ‘‘I know the past hurts you, but this clearly means a lot to you. Your Nan’s obviously important to you too.”

“She practically raised me. Didn’t want me involved in politics, give me a normal life. Well, for as far as that’s possible when…” she froze in my embrace, paler than a ghost at midnight in Highgate. Bit by bit, I could feel her fade in the chaos she had kept firmly under lock and key. We’re rather alike in that, keeping the mess in our fucked up noggins hidden until we choose to open up.

Or come across a trigger. 

I scanned the surroundings for hers. Men conversing as they’re hauling boxes. Tourists and locals squeezing together as they navigate the narrow spaces between the stalls, leaving no room to breathe without doing so down someone’s neck. The sizzling of oil on a hot surface.

Like a lit fuse.

“When…” She flinched when one of the other shopkeepers dropped a couple of crates.

I remember how my heart dropped into my stomach as her knees gave way. Her nails dug into my skin as I gently coaxed her to the ground, though she relaxed her grip a bit as a vague inkling of recognition made her realise it was me holding her. “Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me? It’s Alfie, your boyfriend. You’re in London. Safe. There ain’t no guns ‘ere. Just a couple crates. Just crates. That’s all.” 

I glared at the bastard who reduced my queen to a shivering husk of herself, breathing way too fast as the current of grim things swooped her along. Once he noticed I was looking at him, he quickly scurried to the back. After cursing him under my breath, I held her tight against my chest, cradled her lovely head and the funny mind in it as I gently rocked back and forth like me mum used to do when I was a child. “No guns. No bullets. No fighting. Just us, dove.”

For a few moments we sat like that on the cold paving stones. The shopkeeper fetched Y/N a glass of water which she managed to make her drink. Perhaps it’s only because the subconscious ego of my Irish queen saw her Nan in the woman. Do not misunderstand, right, I was grateful for her kindness. Nonetheless, what Y/N needed was space, fresh air. So I picked her up and carried her bridal-style to the central seating area. One day, I hope to carry her the same way across the threshold of our home.

Colour began to return to her face the longer we sat on a bench removed from everyone in a quieter area of the market. With each passing minute, I saw the demons causing those awful vacant eyes and suffocating her with every breath leave her body. The best I could do was wait and do my damn best to not let my own fear and impatience get the better of me. After all, I was not a god at that moment.

Only a man praying for the better. 

A man overjoyed when an angel gave her back her voice.

“My brothers were killed in shootings.” Slowly, Y/N sought my gaze. She blinked a few times like she woke up a second ago and did not really know whether she was still dreaming or awake. “Cillian was shot in March. Seàn the month after. They rather died than be tried by law.”

It was easier to phrase it as such than tell the truth.

They killed themselves.

Died for the ideal that had left her with a broken family. Although, perhaps it’s better to say she never had a family to begin with.

“And the man who I was meant to marry to get our family higher up the ranks, Patrick McHugh, a man I loathed, was ready to shoot me when the Gardaí had us cornered during a car bomb attack. We were meant to go on a date, so he told me, but… we stopped in the street. Alfie, he- he-’’ I put my arm around her shoulders, pulled her against me, and rested my head on hers. She didn’t owe me an explanation for her behaviour, but before I could tell her it was alright to stop, she continued. “He took me hostage. Was ready to burn me alive with him.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to-”

“Rory turned on him. His second in command, the only person he trusted. I pulled Patrick’s gun in the same moment I freed myself from his grip. Shot him in the head. In cold blood.” She bit her lip to fight the ugly sob which made her shoulders heave. “I have blood on my hands, don’t you see? Rory didn’t make it either. Stayed behind after he negotiated safe passage for me. Later I heard he saved me because he loved me. Had been crushing on me for years. Never said a word, Alfie. Never.” The fight with self-control lost, Y/N’s voice cracked with the tears yet unshed. “And now he’s gone. Everyone’s gone.”

‘‘No, not everyone. I’m ‘ere and I ain’t going anywhere. You and I, yeah, we’re gonna build something fucking biblical. A ‘ome, right, in Margate. You and I. And it’s gonna be safe. No violence. I’ll even get rid of me gun if that makes you feel better.”

“No, keep it. Still, thank you.”

I pulled a tissue from my pocket to clean up her mascara, which had stained her cheeks with little black rivulets. “If there’s anything I can do to make you feel safer, you tell me, yeah? If need be, I’ll build a fucking wall that’ll put Daedalus to shame. With me own ‘ands. Anything.”

“Thank you. I think I should repay that kindness with a clean shirt.’’ She sighed as she surveyed the damage done to my clothes. ‘‘Sorry for the stains. I know you got it fresh out of the closet.”

“Nah, it’s just a shirt. No worries. But, knowing you and your bloody adorable stubbornness, you won’t let this go. So, instead of beating yourself up over nothing because you got nothing to be sorry for, yeah, can you tell me more about the bar- barm- the… thing. Bread.”

“Barmbrack. Brack, for short.”

“Barmbrack,” I repeated. “Brack. Gonna try and remember. The items in it. You said they have special meaning.”

“Right. The… pea, a stick, a piece of cloth, a small coin, a ring, and… something else.”

“A bean.”

“Yes, a bean. A future without money. Anyway, so, now, the pea meant the person would not marry that year. The stick meant they would have an unhappy marriage or continually be in disputes. Now, the cloth or rag no one wanted to find because it meant bad luck, though it was also regarded as an omen of poverty. In contrast, and perhaps very bloody obvious, the coin meant good fortune or riches were coming for the person. If you got the ring, you’d be wed within the year.”

Say what you will of the Irish, but they are bloody creative.

We went back to the stall, got a full bag of dried fruit and went on our merry way. Y/N fortunately hasn’t noticed I’ve used some of the contents for a little surprise. For once her adorable drowsy noggin in the morning comes in handy, when she’s too sleepy to notice nor doesn’t check the bag’s contents before she puts a little in her yoghurt.

The kettle goes off. The steam creates a thin layer of condensation on the tiles and warms my face when I pour the water in a mug. There’s nothing like a cup of char regardless of the time of day.

I wager they’ll be home in fifteen minutes. Until they are, I sit on the chaise longue in the living room. It’s a gorgeous thing, a real beauty we found while antique shopping in London. I had my doubts about the red velvet, but Y/N convinced me to get it regardless because “it fits the house’s aesthetic” whatever the fuck that means. It’s a sturdy piece of furniture, definitely worth every penny.

We tested it thoroughly.

Multiple times.

Nipping the gingerbread tea we bought yesterday at M&S, when I barely managed to prevent Y/N from buying three boxes on top of the three boxes of Christmas spice tea already in our basket, I watch my family. A low chuckle tickles in my throat, proud and amused. Who’d ever thought I, Alfie Solomons, the Divine King of Camden, would stop wandering, settle down, become a family man? Tommy, the self-proclaimed head of the Shelby family though they’re all bad people, would have a bubble if he heard that. 

I ain’t like him. I’d marry my wife, the lovely and downright bloody gorgeous goddess currently down on the beach, the one and only true Mrs Solomons, out of love. A love based on loyalty, right, and not out of convenience or business. No whoring when she ain’t about, no secrets, no dirty business.

No more blood on my rings.

We’d raise our children together, perhaps spoil them rotten. Y/N would chastise me for it, I already know, but I want the best for my girls. Maybe two or three, though I’m not opposed to having a son, yeah, but he’d have to be born before my princesses so he can protect them when their good old man can’t. Hopefully, one of them would like to take over the bakery, keep the business in the family. 

I might have to be on my best behaviour, be more of a father rather than a boss if I don’t want to have her tell me over dinner one night “Papa, I’m not taking over. None of us wants to, least of all Seraphina. She’s more one for painting.”

Yes, they’d be artisans in their own right. But if one of my girls wants to paint, no way she’d learn it from Arthur Shelby, who’s head is like a broken vase what is glued together badly. Nah, I wager she’d be clever enough to teach herself. All of them would be talented like their mother.

The sound of the front door opening resonates in the hallway, followed by Cyril’s happy padding, merrily trodding past me on his way to his bed in front of the hearth. We never should’ve gotten him that pillow, has made him lazy.

But how could I tell her no?

Not that she’d have listened anyway. Y/N would’ve used her own card at the till. However, being a proper gentleman, right, and maybe because I wanted to gain extra what they call ‘brownie points’, which is a stupid phrase in and of itself, a show of being too incapable to use one’s speech properly, I paid.

Y/N follows the happy bugger, head hung low and eyes cast towards the ground. Headphones in her ears.

It’s one of those days.

I step in front of her when she makes for the living room. For a moment, she stays still, like a ghost puzzled by why it can’t move forward. Nevertheless, our eyes meet for a second when my hands touch her shoulders.

“No need to wear a coat inside, is there, darling?” I doubt she hears me, my voice drowned out with the rest of the world.

Perhaps, no, no perhaps.

I am sometimes too loud for her as well.

Although she always tries to play it off afterwards, me intestines tie themselves into a pretty tight and suffocating bow tie when it happens. When the world gets to her.

When I, the real me, The Mad Baker of Camden, get to her.

From the corner of my eye, I’ve seen her flinch when disciplining my staff or stiffen when removing rude customers. I especially hate those who bother her, how they make her freeze in their presence and how she’ll avoid my touch afterwards. Breathing is an art in and of it-bloody-self when I watch her from a distance, headphones blasting music as she sits bowed over a cup of coffee which will grow cold.

Yet, when she’s ready for contact again, those earbuds leave her ears. I don’t fucking care what my men say at this point, but I rush over as fast as I can what with my me fucking leg. I can bear that pain, incomparable to what I unwillingly inflict on her or its effect on me.

Her fingers only take my palm, mapped out from a distance, if she sees no violent lines in it. Some days it trembles, those days when her breath is shivery and I feel tears roll down the good, to her trustworthy, lines as she presses them to her cheek.

Although she doesn’t know it, then again my clever little dove likely does, I’m proud of her for trying to go without headphones nowadays. Recently, it’s only one she’ll keep in, in the ear opposite of the side I’m on. Left if I’m on her right, right if I'm on her left. On really good days, those splendid days which make you wonder whether Yahweh wants to give back to humanity, she’ll go without completely. Fortunately, most of the time this doesn’t result in situations like Borough Market.

Nevertheless, today is a day she needs them.

While Y/N moves to the living room, I head to the kitchen to finish setting up the little surprise I prepared for her. By the looks of things, she needs it. It’s hypocritical, innit, that I’m doing this despite hating when it’s done to me? Still, a good man, a proper man, yeah, a proper fucking gentleman, a bloody king, will try his damned best to surprise the woman he loves whenever and however he can.

Because she deserves it.

These acts of love.

If only because words have a tendency to fail.

As mine do.

A lot.

Tray in hand, I make for the living room. Exactly as I envisioned, Y/N has curled up on the sofa, headphones in while she’s doing that funny yarn thing her Nan taught her. She’s good at it, has made me a very nice scarf and beanie for Hanukkah last year. 

Recently, after our little getaway to the Scottish Highlands, where they speak some form of English she fortunately seemed to understand, worse than the Irish except for her, she made a blanket with a deer’s head. Got inspired by our surroundings, she said. I think it’s the show she watched on her phone every night or in the car.

I put the tray on the coffee table and sit down next to her, a little distance between us. “Hard day, dove?”

“Yeah.” She glances from the slices of sweet soda bread to the glass of whiskey and then to me, her fingers expertly holding up the yarn wrapped around them. “That for me?”

I nod, trying to contain the excitement ignited by hearing her voice. One decibel too loud and I’ll lose her again. Gotta play me cards right, so I speak as evenly as I can without showing her the precarious edge I’m balancing on. “‘Cause you look awful homesick.”

“Thank you, mhuirnin.”

For a few moments I watch her nibble on a slice, vacant gaze cast towards the cold hearth. “We can go on a trip to-’’

“No.”

“Y/N, we don’t have to go to the place your people live. We can go to, fuck, I don’t know, the Republic. It’s safe there, innit? Cork? Enjoy the sea. Waterford? Dublin for an urban-’’

“Alfie, I said no.”

“It’ll do you good.”

“I left Ireland for a reason.” Finally she meets my gaze and me ticker almost sinks through the floor once those pretty eyes shimmering with tears meet mine. “The whole fucking island. Don’t make me return.”

“Alright. We’ll go somewhere else.” I open my arms in invitation. Fortunately, it seems she’s in the mood for contact with me. Face buried in my sweater, her small fist clutching some of the fabric, I wrap her up on my arms. “Or nowhere. We can stay ‘ere.”

As an answer I’m given muffled mumbling, worse than me own.

“What was that?”

“Hotel night.”

“Where?”

“Don’t know. London?”

“We already know the town well. What about the Lake District, hm? Nice and quiet. Lots of green. We can rent a cottage or a nice B&B. Cyril would like it too, right, lots of places to explore. Makes for nice walks, yeah.”

As in agreement, Cyril lets out an excited though low bark, sensitive to what she gets like when her mood’s as it is now.

“See?” I say, pulling her a bit closer. “‘E likes the idea.”

In acknowledgement of our shared sentiments, she hums.

“We’ll figure it out later. For now, ‘ave another slice, drink some whiskey, crochet. But lean on me, eh? Lean on Papa Solomons.”

She grabs another piece of bread and starts nibbling on it, occasionally nipping on her glass.

For a while we sit in silence as she crochets and I simply watch her eat, occasionally shutting my eyes to drink in the moment.

Until my plan comes to fruition.

Feigning innocence, I lift an eyebrow when Y/N pulls a difficult face and spits something into her hand.

She once told me that according to Celtic philosophy, all things come in three.

Third slice of bread.

A ring, of course not the one I mean to present to her properly.

Her head snaps up at me, so fast I’m both glad and impressed she hasn’t broken a vertebrae.

“Yeah, this ain’t a joke.” I kiss her forehead. “Within the year.”

On a better day.

[randomsillyfangirl]

Feliz aniversário, amor - Pablo Gavi x portuguese! Reader

Happy birthday birthday boy <3 Warnings: non, cute birthday fluff <3 also you and Pablo are engaged in this lol ------------------------------------------------------------You ended up being in Portugal for Pablos birthday.

" you sure you don't wanna go to Spain for your birthday? " you asked, kissing his cheek. Pablo shook is head, " it's alright mi amor. We can celebrate it just the two of us. Or with your family. They're my family too.." Pablo said looking at the ring on your finger.

You nodded, " are you sure..? I feel a bit bad." you confessed. " how many birthdays have you spent away from your home? " he asked. " two, as long as we've been together." you responded. Pablo nodded, " exactly. It's my turn now." be said kissing the side of your head lovingly.

You two got ready, today you were going to take your fiancée around the place you grew up. Pablo wanted to celebrate his birthday with you, be genuinely didn't mind spending it with you today. Obviously he talked on the phone with a bunch of people calling him to wish him happy birthday- but ignoring that he just wanted to celebrate it with you.

You took him to your favorite restaurants, favorite views, favorite shops- your favorite things with your favorite person.

You decided to go to his favorite restaurant in Portugal for his birthday dinner. He loved it, hearing you talk in portuguese was something he could never get bored of. " Feliz aniversário, amor, eu te amo" you said kissing his cheek. " Pablo smiled ear to ear.

" I know you wanted to spend your birthday in Spain, with your friends and family bu- " you started but Pablo stopped you.

" I booked our tickets. I booked for us to be here on my birthday because I wanna get to know where your from better. You live in Spain everyday. This is my first time being in Portugal. You're closer with my family than I am with yours. So I say, every year we visit your family here- even for a day or a month. I don't care. I wanna be closer with your family. "

Pablo confessed, you were tearing up at his words- happy tears. You were speechless and Pablo kissed the ring on your finger.

You soon recovered speech and said, "te amo" it was all you could say- still in shock. Pablo smiled, " te amo."

Soon your food arrived and you two started eating. Pablo did love portuguese food, and was hoping you'd make some more at home- which you would.

Your parents loved Pablo, so at home your mom was baking a cake for Pablo, which you knew about. You just had to make sure Pablo wouldn't eat cake before getting home. And somehow, you were successful in that mission.

When you got home, you took Pablo to the kitchen. When he saw the cake he smiled. " Feliz aniversário! " your parents and sibling(s) (and their kids idk abt your family lol) yelled and he smiled even more.

You guys sang happy birthday, Pablo holding your hand the whole song. You guys then shared the cake- Pablo putting some on your face which made everyone laugh.

At night, you two watched his favorite movies and cuddled all night. Honestly, its been his favorite birthday yet.

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

He's so cute I can't <3