#Worst Attraction of London
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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤
𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.
Thomas Shelby x Carleton!Reader
Warnings: Smut, slight size kink, Tommy attracting posh girls as always
“Are you fucking my sister-in-law?” were the very first words that came out of the young socialite’s mouth. They were directed to the man dressed in the grey suit with the flat cap, as he caressed the grey filly in front of him.
“Such crude words from such a lovely young lass, eh?” the man looked rather amused at her choice of words, much less, her more than direct approach of interrogating him.
The words she’d spoken weren’t quite what he had expected from a girl of her caliber, she seemed far too proper to opt for such language.
But she held her ground that girl, with her fashionably short bob and her velvet dress that would probably fetch enough pounds to feed a small family for a week in Small Heath. She didn’t waver under his icy stare, nor did she retreat her questioning glare. In fact, to his surprise, she arched her carefully sculpted eyebrow, as though prompting him to explain himself.
She must be a London girl, he noted, such brazenness could only mean that she must've lived a sheltered life, never having to put her guards up in fear of gangsters and certainly never having to do anything with filthy old Birmingham.
No, all she had to do was look pretty and polite and pop open bottles of champagne, dancing the night away to the Foxtrot and Charleston. She didn’t have a clue who he was, didn’t have a clue what he did and certainly didn’t have a clue as to why he always kept a Webley MK VI in his gun strap.
Tommy found it quite refreshing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone talked to him so incredibly audaciously, if it wasn’t to barrage him with threats to his life.
“I believed I asked you first, Mister” came the reply from her tinted red lips, looking rather displeased that her question was met with another.
“Well, a lady like you shouldn’t worry about adult matters.” he replied as he fished his pockets for the metal cigarette case. “Anyways, she's your sister-in-law you say?” he offered her a cigarette, a habit of his which he’d developed from constantly being surrounded by chain smokers.
“She is, or she was.” she took him up on his offer, as he lit it up for her, “Ian was my brother. His passing was hard on all of us; for her more than anyone else. So, I come up here any chance I get to keep her company, but now I see that’s no longer needed of me.” she said as she eyed him from head to toe, sizing him up almost.
“Don’t let me be a bone of contention now.” he replied, his couldn’t possibly add another trouble to his list, the Epsom and Major Campbell were already a handful, to say the very least.
“Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” A hint of surprise glazed over his eyes as he looked at her delicate features. “I’m quite relieved she isn’t shutting herself up." she trailed off, "And you’re certainly not the worst pick for a suitor.”
“Now don’t go sizing me up for a wedding suit, Miss.” he said taking another drag of his cigarette “May and I are just.... acquaintances. She’s training my horse for the Derby, this beauty over here, you see.” he motioned to the grey horse behind him.
“Oh.” She looked at him with an abashed humour in her eyes. “Then you must pardon my poor choice of words. I’m sure you won’t take the silly musings of a girl to heart.”
She flicked the cigarette bud to the ground, stomping it lightly with the heel of her dainty Mary Janes.
“I’m Y/N. Y/N Vera Carleton.” she extended her hand to him, her lips adorned with the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen in his entire existence. He took her hands in his, their sizes differing starkly. “I’m Thomas. Thomas Shelby.”
“Well then Mr. Shelby, now that the previous fiasco is behind us, I must be off. My friends will be waiting for me, I’m afraid. There's a new club in the city called the Babylon, you might’ve heard of it, they’ve invited this jazz band from the Colonies. My friends say it’s all the rage these days.” she explained to him.
Thomas knew she was one of those girls. The ones that never had to worry about a thing in their lives, except for what they’d wear to a social dinner or what diamonds to pair with what dress and he knew that a part of him wished he could be as carefree as them. But life had other plans for him, a runaway father, a suicidal mother and a fucking war to top it all off.
But now with the Shelby Company Ltd. and his copious side ventures, he hoped that one day, his children, if he ever found a woman that is, would have a life that mirrored that of the captivating girl in front of him.
“All right then, Miss Carleton, you have a good night now.” he bid the girl farewell as he watched her leave the stables. Her dress swaying with every step she took, she looked very frail, he noted, but not the kind that you’d see in the streets of Watery Lane, more so the kind of frail that was in vogue amongst the ladies of London.
As the night progressed, it became abundantly clear that May Fitz Carleton and Thomas Shelby weren’t just acquaintances, although, that should’ve been clear from the moment he accepted her proposal to stay the night in the manor, more like a fucking castle, he thought.
As night fell, Thomas found himself striding to the doors of his gracious host's, she’d left it unlocked, of course. Neither were novice adolescents; they knew what they wanted, and they certainly weren’t abashed about it. Their business was completed rather quickly though, she seemed unable to fully open her heart out to the deed and he had a myriad of thoughts occupying his mind.
Breakfast was a rather lovely affair. May chose not to bring up their late night discretions, for which he was rather thankful for. In fact, she seemed content with it being a passing liaison, finally someone that’s on the same page as him, he mused.
The lavish spread of food in front of him was overwhelming and he resigned himself to an Earl Grey and a toast. It seemed it was just May that occupied the house, seeing as though they were the only two to grace the table. Their conversations were pleasant, ranging from their shared love for horses to the ones they would be up against at the Derby, when lo and behold, the doors to the room sprung open to reveal a particularly chirpy Y/N, what she would be so cheery for, this early in the morning, he didn’t know.
“Morning, my dearest. Hope you had a lovely night.” The older of the two woman remarked as she kissed her cheeks. “I’ve told Louisa to prepare those Vienna rolls you so love. She should bring it out any minute.” she stated as the maids served the new occupant with a steaming cup of tea.
“That would be lovely, God knows I’m terribly famished.” she strutted into the room, smelling of daisies as she walked past him and kissed her sister-in-law. “Morning to you, my dearest Mayflower.”
She took the seat opposite to his, paying him no mind and absentmindedly blowing into her tea. “Y/N darling, this is Mr. Thomas Shelby, he’s my guest. I'm training his horse for Epsom. " She motioned to the gentleman. "Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s Ian’s sister and the youngest of the Carleton bunch.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” quipped the younger girl, pretending as though they were truly meeting for the first time.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Tommy went along with her play, opting not to reveal their meeting the previous day.
“Madam, there’s a telephone for you. It's from Sir Ascot.” May was quickly ushered out of the room to attend to her business, leaving the unusual pair together.
“So, are you going to keep staring or will you tell me what’s on your mind?” Y/N remarked as she forfeited the staring game they’d had going on.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the girl in front of him was intriguing for sure, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Tommy didn’t know other women besides Ada and Polly that would speak so nonchalantly with him, and he found himself quite enjoying this refreshing exchange.
“Well, you’ve basically been undressing me with your eyes, since yesterday. So, shall we do it in my room or yours?”
This. Tommy wasn’t expecting.
He'd expected a whole lot of other things but not this.
The girl didn’t bat an eye as she said those words, simply sipping on her tea, as though they’d only exchanged pleasantries with each other. Tommy was about to respond when a maid brought a plate of Vienna rolls to the table and diligently served her young Miss.
As soon as her departing figure left the room, Y/N’s eyes darted back up to his, sucking slowly on the gold cutlery as she did. She seemed to be waiting for his reply and Tommy wondered how she’d react if he told her 'No'. Surely, such a girl as lovely as her wouldn’t be used to hearing those words of refusal. All she’d have to do was bat her pretty lashes, pout her soft lips and no one would dare refuse such a divine creature.
And Tommy was by no means a saint. A posh girl like her asking him to fuck her wasn’t something that happened on the daily. And again, Tommy might be a man with great restraint, but he was a man after all.
He'd be lying if he said his pants hadn’t gotten the slightest bit tighter at the sight of her sucking and licking on the spoon, that when he was balls deep inside May the previous night, all he thought about was the girl in front of him. Even now, as she sat in front of him, in her lace dress, he could see the slightest imprint of her breasts against the fabric of the dress.
Tommy took in a deep breath, setting the teacup back on the porcelain saucer, when finally, he muttered “You don’t know who I am, do you, little girl?” For if she did, she wouldn’t have uttered those words, much less, even sip her tea so peacefully in his presence.
“Should I care?” she asked in mock concern, “All I know is that you’re a well dressed gentleman that’s got a nice deep voice.” Truly, that was all she looked for. If a man had a deep enough pocket and an ever deeper voice, she’d go weak in the knees, and she knew May wouldn’t associate herself with a man that didn’t have the former.
“Y/N Carleton, you’re truly a work of art, eh?” he chuckled, genuinely in awe of her intrepidity.
“Well, that amongst other things.” came her quick reply, flashing him a cheeky smile.
“Do you think she’ll notice? If were both absent from the table, that is.” he asked in reference to May, she sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate his advances towards her sister-in-law.
“Don’t you worry, Sir Ascot is a hard fellow to deal with, he’ll talk her ear off for hours.” she stated unconcerned as she took strode out of the room, glancing back at him.
“In fact, forget about the bedroom, there's a storeroom over there that’s unfrequented. God knows your staring is making me wild as it is.” She turned and left the room, the gentle sway of her hips beckoning him to follow her. And follow he did.
Thomas fucking Shelby following after a girl, his brothers would’ve had a field day had they learnt of it.
But he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted her.
He wanted to fuck her till she screamed his name.
He wanted to fuck her till she couldn’t walk.
He wanted to fuck her till she was a crying mess.
The storeroom was quite spacious, like most of the rooms of this manor. But he wasn’t here to admire this. No. He came here for her. As soon as the latch to the door was shut closed, their lips crashed together.
Oh! He could have had her then and there, her lips were so incredibly soft and moulded with his so fucking perfectly. Her hands found themselves in his hair and she tugged lightly, making him crazy at her touch, while his hands kneaded her supple buttocks. She might’ve been slim, but she was certainly well endowed in just the right areas.
She soon broke the kiss and quickly worked to unbutton her dress, looking at him as he did, and that smile. That fucking smile of hers. Thomas didn’t know anyone more lovely than her.
She stripped down to her chemise, her garter bands visible underneath. He couldn’t control himself at the sight of her lovely frame. His hands soon brought the straps of her flimsy cover down, exposing her delicate brassiere which was also discarded on the floor.
She looked glorious standing in front of him, in just her garter bands and stockings. He would fuck her with those on he decided. The sight of her thighs in those were making the tent in his pants so painfully obvious.
She undid his suspenders, kneeling down as she pulled his trousers down, freeing his throbbing red cock from it’s tight restraints. She blushed a little at the obscene sight, sure she’d seen her fair share of cocks, but none as majestic as his. Tommy Shelby had drawn him to her because of his deep voice, but his huge cock, now that was a brilliant surprise. The London chaps she’d been with just couldn’t compare.
She licked the precum that was dripping from his tip, making him shudder in anticipation and little by little she licked the length of his entire shaft, making sure to drag her tongue along every crevice. She held her cock in both hands, it’s sheer size making her marvel. As Tommy looked down, the sight below him was eliciting a dark reaction inside of him, her little dainty fingers wrapped around his manhood. God! She looked so very small.
She sucked his cock, trying her best to take in as much as she could. She was diligent, for sure, doing her best to make him happy, taking small breaths, accommodating her throat for his dick and working her hands constantly along his shaft or his balls.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” he breathed out raspily. She was an angel.
An angel sent just to fuck him. He didn’t know any woman or whore that was doing the things she was. But here she was, a little thing like her milking his cock like a good girl.
He grabbed her hair, lightly bucking his hips inside of her mouth. She seemed to be suffocating almost, his big dick choking her. Almost.
“Just like that baby, just like that.”
Fuck! She was such a good girl, holding her cries till he released his load inside of her mouth. “Swallow.” he commanded. She was a glorious mess, doing as he commanded her.
Her eyes were watery, and her mouth was thoroughly abused, but she still looked at him with devotion laced in her beautiful eyes.
He lifted her off the ground and laid her on the table like surface. He spread her legs wide open with his hands and marveled at the sight. Her throbbing cunt, glistening in arousal looked so warm, so inviting. He kissed her on the lips once more and dove in to eat her out, but a small hand covered the entrance.
“She might be done soon, so, please just fuck me.” she cried, so obviously starved for him.
He wasted no time and rubbed her clit, making sure her entrance was slick enough, and she was, so incredibly wet for him. He lined his dick to the entrance of her pussy and thrusted lightly. Just the tip he moaned. Just the tip and she was already on the verge of tears.
“Just breathe, love. Just breathe for me, eh?” he cooed in her ear as his hips thrusted in small motions to enter her tight cave, rubbing her clit as he did. And then with a final thrust he entered her pussy.
God! She felt so good. Her tight walls caved around his cock, stimulating him in ways he didn’t think possible. His motions became faster as her cries became louder.
“Tommy!” she moaned over and over again, seemingly unable to formulate any coherent sentences, her brain clogged with the intense pleasure of his cock ramming into her.
“You fit me so well, Y/N. I’m never letting go of you or your tight fucking pussy after this.” he moaned in her ear.
The constant slapping of skin and unbridled moans didn’t leave much to the imagination of the maids and butlers that might’ve overheard, but they didn’t care. All they knew was that they were nearing their release and it just felt so fucking good.
“Tommy, I’m close.” she managed to stumble out the words.
“Wait for me, love. You’re gonna cum when I tell you to.” he groaned as he fastened his pace, evidently nearing his release.
And with a final thrust, he whispered in her ear and they let go. They were quite the pair to look at. Him, with his trousers on the floor, his hands gripping onto her waists and his eyes never leaving hers and she, with her damn naked body, her tear streaked cheeks and her smudged lipstick.
Tommy gave her a sweet kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her naked body as they remained in the warm embrace. Their heartbeats were gradually returning to usual, and their panted breathing became steadier.
He retrieved a handkerchief from his pockets and delicately cleaned her sore entrance. The evidence of their lovemaking spilled lewdly on the floor; it was to be someone else’s problem, not theirs. He slipped the stained handkerchief into his pockets and helped her dress. She seemed incredibly satiated as she stared at him with sheer fondness in her eyes.
Tommy knew that he couldn’t let go of her now. Not after this.
She was his, even if she didn’t know it yet.
“We best get going now, love.” he told her as he waited for her to gather herself together.
“Wait, silly, you’ve got lipstick on your nose.” she giggled as she rubbed the scarlet red lipstick off for him, standing on the tip of her toes.
She moved to open the door, but her steps felt awkward. He chuckled at her attempt to walk and offered his hand so she may lean on him. The walk back to the table was interesting, with her uncharacteristic gait and lipstick that seemed to have been smudged clean, and his hair that had been slightly disheveled and lips that held the faintest smile.
Both looked nothing like they had a few moments prior. If the maids noticed the obvious change, they didn’t comment on it as they dutifully carried out their tasks, making the most possible effort to not offend the pair as they walked through the halls.
May arrived a few minutes later rambling about how much she would’ve loved to cut the call halfway, had Sir Ascot not been an influential member of the Board. She had been so engrossed in her rant that perhaps, she didn’t notice the obvious change in the mood.
She also didn’t notice the fact that Thomas Shelby’s eyes never once left her sister-in-law who insouciantly continued drinking her tea that was far too cold by now.
“Well, May, my stay here has been lovely, but I best get going now.” he uttered at last, the business back at home didn’t wait for no one, especially not for him to fuck posh girls.
“Indeed, I assume you must have your work cut out for you and oh! I forgot to tell you this morning that I’ve had your car stocked up with engine oil, so, it’ll be a smooth ride home.”
“Thank you for that, May.” he put on his coat and thanked her for her gracious hosting.
“Tommy.” she called out as he stepped into his vehicle. “Will I see you again?”
“I’m sure we’ll cross paths again, Miss Carleton.”
Miss not Mrs. because his eyes, as he spoke those words weren’t on the woman in front of him, but rather they were on the girl that stood at the doorway, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.
Ah! That smile.
The drive home was brisk, his mind occupied with the image of her and that darn smile. He may have been back in Birmingham, but he knew that apart of his mind had been left behind with a particularly charming girl in the Carleton Estate.
#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby x y/n#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders imagine#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fanfiction
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#TextileTuesday: look closely, it’s a “needlepainting!” A favorite piece from the “Making Her Mark: A History of #WomenArtists in Europe, 1400-1800” exhibition at Baltimore Museum of Art:
Mary Linwood (British, 1755-1845)
after George Stubbs (British, 1724-1806)
Tygress, c. 1798
Worsted wool needlework
“The vibrant copper, red, and green passages in this copy after George Stubb's painting Tygress are rendered not in paint but stitched in dyed wool thread. By the 1780s, Mary Linwood had become famous for her ‘needlepaintings,’ which she exhibited at the Society of Artists in London.
Later, she opened her own public exhibition of her works that debuted in London and then toured to cities in Scotland and Ireland; in 1806, she opened her own gallery in Leicester Square in London, where this work was shown. Her gallery remained a major attraction for nearly forty years.”
#animals in art#european art#18th century art#needlework#needlepainting#textiles#Mary Linwood#museum visit#exhibition#British art#George Stubbs#tiger#feline#wild cat#Baltimore Museum of Art#women artists
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Designed by pain (5)
Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, a little Brit's bashing? (it's Dean), almost car accident (not really, just in case)
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
Designed by pain (4)
Dean, stop fidgeting!” Sam tuts. “It’s an airplane. Nothing will happen. It’s more likely that Y/N will stab you to death for following her home.”
“It’s called a romantic gesture, bitch! Maybe I was too chicken to look for her after she left without as much as a note, but this won't happen again.”
“If you wanted to find her, you’d found her in no time, Dean. Do not lie to me. I’m your brother, not someone you can easily lie to. I know you inside and outside.”
“That sounded wrong,” Dean snickers. “Anyways. I didn’t know that she left a message. Back then, I believed she didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“Excuses again, Dean?” Sam sarcastically says. “You gave up so easily on Y/N because you let Mother feed you with lies. She wanted you back with Lisa, and you eagerly agreed.”
“I wasn’t with Lisa after Y/N left. That’s a lie,” Dean grunts. “I was with other women, but not Lisa. No relationship worked out for me, though.”
“Maybe no relationship worked out for you because none of the women was Y/N,” Sam looked Dean straight in the eyes. “Just saying. She was the one.”
Dean tries to swallow the lump in his throat. Sam is not wrong. Deep down inside Dean knows that letting you go was the worst mistake he ever made.
“Let’s not talk for a while. I need to prepare a speech and make Y/N talk to me,” Dean looks at the ring in his hands, swallowing hard. “Do you think she will give me a chance to at least talk about what happened that night?”
“Honestly,” Sam sighs deeply, “I don’t know, man. You hurt her deeply and she had to raise your child alone.”
“I didn’t like that guy,” Dean huffs. “Ketch. He was always sneaking around Y/N, and he wouldn’t leave her out of sight.”
“Maybe he’s just attentive,” Sam grins. His brother is jealous, and this gives him a little hope that Dean will get his shit together and fix what he broke years ago. “You know. Y/N is an attractive woman. A single mom. Maybe he offers to help her repair things and clean her pipes.”
“Not a word about her pipes!” Dean points his index finger at Sam. His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken. “If that sonofabitch touched Y/N, he’s dog food.”
“Dean.”
“Do not Dean me!” Dean snaps at his brother.
“You’ve got no right to be jealous or angry at that man. Y/N is single because you let her slip through your fingers.”
Sam leans back and closes his eyes. It’s a few more hours before they’ll arrive in London. He will try to get as much sleep as possible before he must, help his brother get you back.
“DEAN! FUCK! You are driving on the wrong side!” Sam screams at the top of his lungs as his brother curses left-hand driving. “Christ, Dean! I told you about left-hand driving.”
“Fuck left-hand driving,” Dean flashes his brother a smirk before focusing on driving on the right side of the street. “Brits, they are crazy. Why would you want to drive on the wrong side of the fucking street! They are lunatics! All of them!”
Sam releases a shuddery breath. His life flashed in front of his eyes for a split second. “Just drive carefully, and on the right side of the street. I want to survive this trip!”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Dean grins. “I’ve got this. The only problem is, I miss my Baby.”
“Well, at least this way you won’t total your car,” Sam huffs. “Please just slow down and drive us to Y/N’s home safely. I don’t want to face her with my pants soaked with pee.”
“Aw, my baby brother still pees his pants. Cute.”
“Yeah, if his brother drives on the wrong side of the street, almost killing them in a car accident!”
Dean snickers. “Sammy pees his pants. Sammy pees his pants.”
Sam punches his brother’s upper arm. “Stop that shit. We are here to talk to Y/N, not for you to make stupid jokes. Cockiness and bad jokes won’t help you win her over again.”
Dean’s smile falters, and he nods. Sam is right. You will not fall for his charms and cockiness again. Not after he let you down when you needed him the most.
“Mommy, I want eggs! I want eggs,” your son chants while you try to focus on reading the newspaper. “Mommy!”
“You’ve got the pancakes you wanted, Michael Joseph,” you fold the newspaper and give your son a stern look. It’s one of your rare days off, and you want to start it in silence and enjoy the day. “We talked about wasting food.”
“But—” he puckers his lips and batts his eyelashes. Mimicking his father. You gasp as he tells you that he’ll be a sweetheart all day if you make him eggs now.
Sweetheart. The pet name makes your heart ache.
“Please, I want eggs and bacon! Real men eat bacon,” he sniffles. “Please, Mommy. I’m craving eggs and bacon.”
“Real men?” You frown. “Where did you hear that term?” You take a sip from your cup, wondering where your son heard that term.
“Oh, I talked to your friend Dean. He called when you were asleep,” your son grins, making his cheeks dimple. “He loves pie and talks a lot about you and food. Dean said bacon and eggs are breakfast for champions. Especially when it comes with pie.”
“Dean?” You drop your cup. It chatters on the ground, making you flinch. “When did you talk to him? Why did you talk to him at all? I told you not to talk to strangers.”
“He called,” your son sniffs, unbeknownst to the pain he just caused. “And, Dean said he’s your friend. I only tried to be polite, Mommy. Dean was friendly, and I liked talking to him. He sounded like a cool guy.”
“A cool guy?” You shake your head. “No, he’s not a—” Your son looks at you, a big smile on his face when he talks about Dean. So, you bite your tongue and ignore the aching in your chest.
“Mommy, can we call him? I’d like to ask him a few questions about cars,” your son excitedly tells you Dean knows everything about the Impala he loves so much. “Please.”
“We’ll see,” you hastily say. It’s a lie, but you cannot tell your son why you don’t want him to talk to Dean ever again.
For now, you’ll do anything to keep Dean away from your son. He doesn’t know your son is his son. If he calls again, you’ll come up with a believable lie.
“Fuck, I should’ve bought flowers, right?” Dean looks at the model car in his hands. It’s a model of his car. The one his brother found online years ago. “Shit, what do I do now? I need flowers for Y/N.”
“Dean,” Sam hisses. He doesn’t want to draw attention toward him and his brother. “The neighbors are watching us. Ring the doorbell before they call the cops!”
“Not cops,” Dean snorts. “They call them Bobby here! Bobby! He’d so love this!”
“It’s a nickname,” Sam slaps the back of Dean’s head, earning a grunt and a few curse words. “Now stop wasting time. We are here. All you gotta do is ring that bell…”
Part 6
#dean winchester#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester x reader#au!dean winchester#Designed by pain (5)#angst#dean winchester x female!reader
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but if you could see us from a distance, you’d know i’ve always been so close to you | @anincompletelist | E | 10k
Objectively, standing half-soaked from rainwater with a stitch in his side and an uncomfortable, raging hard-on outside his worst enemy’s door is not Henry’s finest moment. It’s not even on the list.
– or, henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, alex claremont-diaz, can touch him.
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Henry likes his apartment - he has done since the day he moved in a year ago. The light in the sitting room is gorgeous at all times of day thanks to the ceiling to floor windows which lead out onto a south-facing balcony, only just large enough for the plethora of plantlife his flatmates care for. The kitchen is always stocked with his favourite tea, everyone keeps to their allotted cupboard and fridge space, and the bathrooms are kept meticulously clean. There’s a rota for chores stuck to the fridge with magnets from Rhode Island and Minnesota, London and Milan, with everything typed up neatly so that nobody has to squint to read someone else’s awful handwriting.
His flatmates themselves? Well, they’re a little… strange.
why are you googling vampires? | @daisymae-12 | E | 13.9k
Alex isn’t really looking for love – he’s got enough on his plate with law school thanks – but when he’s approached by Henry at a bar one night, all it takes is one small, shy smile and Alex is smitten.
Or, Alex accidentally takes a hot, hungry vampire home and almost dies (not really, he’s just being a dramatic little shit)
(these last two fics are both from the series the only thing on my mind - Piercer!Alex teaches Henry about the inner workings of BDSM in mid-90s New York)
wanna know that body like it’s mine | @hypnostheory | E | 5.8k
Henry takes a fortifying breath and sticks his tongue out for Alex to look at.
“Okay good, now hold it up like this,” Alex says, holding his mouth open and sticking his tongue up against the roof of his mouth. Henry copies the motion, flinching when Alex grabs his chin and tilts his head up. He hums as he looks into Henry’s mouth, nodding to himself. “Damn, you have the perfect anatomy for a piercing.”
Henry’s not even sure if that’s a compliment, but his heart skips a beat. “Thank you.”
– After losing a bet, Henry has to get a tongue piercing. Alex, the incredibly attractive piercer, gets stuck in Henry’s head in more ways than he expected.
covered in you | @hypnostheory | E | 10.6k
Alex blinks at him, tilting his head to the side. Sometimes Alex looks at him like he’s trying to figure out some strange riddle. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Henry switches to the other boot, nodding for Alex to continue. “Do you have a thing for leather?”
Henry blinks. “Erm, no?” He finishes working the leather conditioner in, letting it set. He wipes his hands off on his microfiber cloth, resisting the urge to smell the clean pine tar of the conditioner before he does. “I mean, doesn’t everyone like how leather smells?”
Alex stares at him for a few painful seconds. “Do you just like how it smells?”
This is the first fic rec post I’ve done in years, and it’s my first one ever for the Red, White & Royal Blue fandom!
Please remember to read the tags and note the E ratings. Feel free to send me fic rec requests anytime.
#rwrb#red white and royal blue#fic rec friday#fic rec#fic recs#rwrb fics#rwrb fic recs#rwrb fic rec#rwrb fanfic#rwrb fic#firstprince fic recs#firstprince fic#firstprince fanfic#firstprince smut#firstprince#alex claremont diaz#prince henry fox mountchristen windsor#henry fox#nocoastposts fic rec
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Did I just saw with my own two eyes an episode, where Ted’s mother shows up and acts in this very disinterested “I am not interested in you and your achievements whatsoever, you are not even the main attraction of this trip and I’m going to tell you that in this indirect passive-aggressive way, but at the same time I AM here because I am displeased with you, now guess what’s wrong while I tell lies about you to your friends and colleagues. The lies that are kind of nice but also lies and it makes you feel uncomfortable and I do not care”.
And then Ted goes back to Kansas where he can’t have his career, his friends, but he will be in contact with Michelle (who dates their couple therapist, and that is something that makes Ted very uncomfortable) and mom???? Like? And Henry never asked him to return and in fact is not suffering at all. Henry is shown to be fine. He never has meltdowns when he leaves London, he doesn’t express any hurt feelings towards Ted. They seem to just have an unconventional arrangement and Henry misses Ted, but doesn’t feel neglected. It also seems like his mom just believes that Ted should be home with his son, an unassuming father who doesn’t have public panic attacks and causes her embarrassment??? Because the way she showed him the clippings from the papers?? Boy! I don’t know how else to interpret that tbh
Ted has just achieved one of the best moments in his career and his mom actively and purposefully poisoned that moment for him, this whole thing is being contrasted to Jamie’s mom, I just don’t believe that Ted is going to stay in Kansas. That can’t be.
Also I feel like the tedependance tinfoil hat is not a tinfoil hat at all because actually! Ted having suppressed a huge part about himself (bisexuality), and not being able to live his life because of his roots works really well here.
It's precisely readings like this that make me hope a permanent Kansas ending can't be possible and likewise believe that if that is our ending... Ted Lasso will have failed in a pretty significant way. Even just a few episodes ago I was fully on team, "I 100% don't want Ted to return to Kansas, but if he does I accept that this was an ending long in the making and just because I personally dislike it doesn't make it bad." Now though? They've introduced so much lately -- and emphasized so much else from past seasons, like Ted's rocky relationship with Michelle/Jake -- that I just can't read Kansas as a positive ending for Ted anymore. It's not just me and my preferences anymore, I don't think that ending fits the show, period. Is, in fact, a betrayal of everything Ted Lasso has argued for.
Ted's mom was a big part of that feeling this episode, as you've nicely laid out, anon. It's no coincidence that in an episode titled "Mom City," Ted's story with his mother does not run parallel to Jamie's (unfailingly supportive, knows him better than he knows himself, Jamie comes to her when he's ready, an act of agency that Dottie doesn't allow Ted), but rather closer to Jamie's dad. Which I don't mean as a way to say, "She's abusive!" but rather the more nuanced take that we end the episode on: You can forgive someone while still acknowledging that they've hurt you so badly. Ted, normally so polite with his "Oh boy"s and "Darn"s and "Shucks"s really says it all with a string of direct, angry, "Fuck you"s. That level of anger and disappointment will not be magically fixed with one dinner. By continually introducing Kansas-aligned characters that make Ted uncomfortable at best, uncharacteristically angry at worst, it HEAVILY sells the idea that the space itself is no longer healthy for him. He can slowly rebuild those relationships -- and arguably should -- but that's not the same thing as throwing himself back into their mix. Allowing Ted to stay in London with visits from his family is akin to Jamie remaining removed from his dad, but sending him a text on his own terms.
As for Henry, yeah. I've been arguing for ages that Henry does not act like someone who feels abandoned and the few arguments I've seen fans bring up aren't very persuasive to me. Basically, framing every normal child struggle as a result of Ted's distance. Henry being a short-term bully is not automatically some cry for attention tethered to an absent dad -- there's no evidence for that, especially when Henry uses Ted's own teachings to realize his mistake and apologize -- and him being sad with Beard is because he's finally seeing his dad and Ted is ignoring him. I'd be sad too if I hadn't seen someone in a while and they were spiraling instead of hanging with me. That doesn't mean I need them to drastically change their life to accommodate me in new ways. Henry as a character needs to be allowed to make mistakes without that automatically reflecting badly on what Ted has chosen for his own happiness and mental health. Anyway, yeah, Henry has consistently been shown to likewise be happy, well-adjusted, and fully engaged with Ted through visits/over Zoom, so this claim that Henry needs his dad in this way doesn't jive with three seasons of Henry flourishing through Ted's parenting this other way.
All of which means that, frankly, I think we should take Dottie's "Your son misses you" with a serious grain of salt. That's a damn broad statement because of COURSE Henry misses Ted and vice versa, but that basic reality of missing people in life when you're separated from them doesn't mean he misses him in the way that I think Dottie is implying: he's hurting to an extent that you need to fix in this specific way (moving back home). Beyond everything you've listed about how Dottie makes Ted uncomfortable, I think it's significant that she has Very Traditional Ideas about how this family should function. She couches it in a lot of humor and starts to demonstrate a bit more open-mindedness at the end of the episode, but we're still left with:
Telling all Ted's friends that he's done Amazing, Unique, Super Cool Things That are Objectively Impressive. To be clear, I found her interactions with the team as funny and surface-wholesome as we were supposed to, but I do think there was this underlying implication that Dottie is not as satisfied with Ted's choices as Ted himself is, so she 'accidentally' makes up stories that make him seem 'better' than he actually is. This is compounded by what you've pointed out, about how she only gives a cursory congratulations for this MONUMENTAL achievement. Compare that to Jamie's mom absolutely loosing her shit in support of him.
She brings the 'gift' of the clippings -- Ted should be GRATEFUL for this. Only a terrible son would be upset by a mother keeping track of his accomplishments! -- which not only include the headlines about the panic attacks, but she's situated them front and center, ensuring they're the first thing Ted sees. Combine that with her 'concerned' question about whether he's still getting panic attacks and you have this strong implication that Ted Is Bad For Showing Weakness. Men don't do that. The Lassos don't do that. They bury things in positivity, even the suicide of a father/husband. The fact that Ted immediately lies and says the panic attacks are gone says it all. He knows trying to explain this to her is a lost cause.
Speaking of mental health, are you really seeing that therapist? Oh, well, good for you, I guess. Me? No, no, no, I would never see one. I'm going to be suspicious of it to the point of implying that it's a flaw to need one. This is the one point where I cut Dottie a lot of slack because Ted himself went through the same arc of needing to accept the benefits of therapy, but we're nevertheless seeing where he (in part) got that biased perspective from.
There are a lot of throwaway lines that paint Dottie as a Good Traditional Mother, very much in contrast to Ted Lasso's queer, open-minded, gender roles-bending world. She continually reminds him that she is NOT having sex, it's those Australians. Why-ever would an older woman be having loud, enthusiastic sex? (Compare that to Rebecca nearly getting it on with the boat guy, a celebration of romance and sexuality for older women.) Dottie can't take the bed. That's not the polite thing to do. She needs to be coaxed into accepting even the simplest of care while, simultaneously, expecting Ted to offer it despite the inconvenience. (If I bring up the awful hostel I've been staying in you'll offer to let me crash here instead, right?). That's one of the big differences between Ted and his mother: Ted has a lot of trouble accepting help, but honestly doesn't expect anything in return for the intense kindness he doles out to others. In contrast, Dottie has trouble admitting that she's accepting help, she pretends to do the nice thing while waiting for someone to insist strongly enough that she do what she's wanted to do from the get-go, then she's off the hook because, well, they basically made her. Will Dottie go to a football game like Henry and Higgins and Rebecca and Keeley and Bex and all the other emotionally open characters, screaming for her son in the midst of chaotic action? Oh no. No, no, no, that's not for her. She'll just stay home and do the Proper Thing of making a home-cooked dinner for her little boy... while making him feel guilty about that by sending texts about how now she kinda does wish she was at the game. The conclusion to their moment of honesty and growth is Ted (a man, the child in the relationship) serving her (the woman, the mother) for once, which I think highlights how much of the Good Traditional Kansas Woman mask Dottie has learned to maintain.
All of which is to say that we've been introduced to a loving but incredibly flawed mother who puts a LOT of stock in old-school values and appearances. There's no way that this all doesn't extend to her views on Henry, her grandson. Right now, Dottie is not someone who can fully embrace Ted's nontraditional style of life (divorced, in therapy, taking some risks like drinking not-actually-drugged tea) or parenting (long-distance, "It takes a village"). She doesn't outright reject Ted's choices, but she does spend the entire episode being passive-aggressive, even manipulative at times, to make it very clear that she does not approve of all this. When she says, "Your son misses you" it reads as a very biased view of the situation, driven by the idea that no child could possibly be happy without that nuclear family living their white-picket fence life in the good old US-of-A. Ted needs to move back to Kansas not because of Henry, but because that's what Good Fathers Do. I don't think Dottie should be seen as a reliable source here for what Henry actually wants or needs. She certainly hasn't been a reliable source for Ted.
Which -- as said numerous times -- paints Kansas in an incredibly negative light. We haven't actually seen Ted in Kansas on the show, so our understanding of his relationship with that place is filtered through the people living there. Michelle, Jake, and Dottie are all emotional landmines that Ted still needs a lot of time to diffuse and Henry is written as perfectly content with their arrangement. If Ted permanently goes back to Kansas I'm really gonna be ????????????????????????????????? about it.
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A Mountain To Climb - Part Eight
Note - happy Wednesday 😘 I’m so excited for this one so enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think I’m dying to know 😭💙
Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader
Word count - 3.6k
Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst
Masterlist
‘Bens having another party. You up for it?’ Mason told you as you took a bite of your lunch.
It had been just over a week since you had been round to Masons for dinner and you hadn’t seen him in person since. He told you he had another interview near your office and you agreed to meet him for lunch, hence why you were both in the corner of some fancy London restaurant that was way out of your price range.
‘I don’t see why not’ you smiled ‘it would be nice to see Sophia again’
‘I’ll probably stay over again so you can bunk with me like last time’
‘You sure?’
‘Of course. I’m not having you go home alone’ he told you with furrowed brows and you smiled at his protectiveness. ‘You can get ready at mine if you want and then just take a few bits to Bens. Then maybe we can do the same as last time and go to mine after?’
‘You’ve got it all figured out haven’t you Mount?’ You laughed and you saw his cheeks flush liked he’d been caught out.
Lunch was over too quickly for your liking and with a kiss to your temple, Mason was off to his interview and you were back behind your desk. The afternoon dragged so when you got off the train and saw Freya was calling you, your face lit up and you answered with a smile.
‘Hello my love’ you sung and you heard her laugh down the phone.
‘Hello to you too. Someone sounds chirpy’
‘I sound the same as I always do’
‘No you don’t. Let me guess, have you seen Mason today?’ She teased and you rolled your eyes at her even though she couldn’t see you.
‘As a matter of fact we had lunch together. But that doesn’t mean anything’
‘Oh honey, it means everything’ she taunted and you couldn’t help but smile at the way she read you so well. ‘Anyway, that’s not the reason I’m calling. I know it’s late notice but there’s this huge party happening up here this weekend and you haven’t been up here in months so I wondered if you fancied making the trip’
‘Ah, you know I would but I’ve already got plans’
‘You? Plans? Since when’ she laughed and you huffed as you finally sat down.
‘Bens having a party this weekend and we’re staying over. If it was any other weekend I would’ you told her but the line was silent. ‘Hello? Frey, you still there?’
‘Do you hear yourself?’ She laughed and you furrowed your brows ‘we’re staying over. So what, are you finally gonna shag him?’
‘Fucking hell, what is this’ you laughed
‘Babe, answer me this. Do you like him?’
‘Of course I like him’
‘Do you think he’s attractive?’
‘Yes’ you told her sheepishly
‘Have you ever thought about kissing him?’
‘Freya I don’t see how-‘
‘Just answer me’ she cut you off and you groaned before shutting your eyes to answer.
‘Alright. Yes I thinking about it all the fucking time. Is that what you wanted to hear?’
‘That’s exactly what I wanted to hear’ she told you softly and you felt your eyes sting at her tone. ‘Do you know how lovely it’s been watching you open up to someone these past few months? I love you with all my heart y/n and all I want is for you to be happy. You wanna kiss him? So go and do it. What’s stopping you? I’m 1000% sure he wants to kiss you back and if he doesn’t then fuck him. You can’t live your life in your little bubble for the rest of time. Take a chance. I think Mason proved himself to you a long time ago’
‘Frey I don’t even know where to start’ you laughed and she chuckled along with you.
‘You’re gonna go with him to this party. You’re gonna wear that green skirt of yours, you know the one I’m taking about, and you’re gonna let your walls down and think with your heart instead of your head for once’
‘What if it all goes wrong?’ You asked her timidly, the first thought in your mind being the worst possible outcome and you heard her sigh, know you were freaking out already.
‘If it goes wrong then I’ll be here for you just like I always am. But I honestly don’t see that happening. The boy follows you around like a lost puppy and it’s about time you gave him a treat’ she joked and you laughed loudly at her weird analogy. ‘I’m not asking you to marry the guy. Just let your hair down a little yeah? Kiss him, fool around a bit. Live the dream of thousands of girls across the country’
‘I love you, Frey’ you told her sincerely, thankful she was in your life to give you a good talking too when you needed it.
A few days later you were stood in Masons bathroom, applying your last coat of mascara before you were ready to go. You’d taken Freya’s advice and had on the green skirt she’d suggested and as you looked yourself over in the mirror you were happy with how you looked. It was short and showed off enough of your legs and the shirt you’d paired it with was undone to show the girls off but you didn’t feel trashy and you thought Mason would like it.
You padded downstairs to meet him, putting your shoes on as you got to the bottom and walked to meet him in the living room. He was turned away from you, dressed in a brown hoodie and jeans but he still looked gorgeous.
‘I’m ready when you are’ you told him, watching him turn to you and all the colour drain from him face before he was blushing furiously. His eyes were wide in shock and he gulped down a nervous lump before letting out a breath. ‘Do I look okay? I’m not too over dressed am I?’
‘Not at all’ he breathed. ‘You look amazing’ finally smiling as he made his way over to you and now you were the one to get nervous. He was breathtaking and his smile made your tummy flutter just as much as it did the first time you saw it. Maybe it was the nerves of knowing what you were planning tonight that made you extra nervous but you were finding it hard to keep up the eye contact with him.
You walked into Bens house and Sophia was on you instantly which gave Mason a chance to put your things in the guest room before joining you again.
‘Sorry Soph, just need to borrow this one so we can get a drink and I promise I’ll bring her right back’ he told her and she raised her finger to wiggle it in his face, clearly a few drinks deep already.
‘You make sure you’re quick Mount. Don’t hog her’ she slurred and you laughed as Mason led you through the house by your hand, taking longer than you thought as he had a lot of people to say hello too but you were soon in the kitchen, watching him pour you both a drink.
‘Well well well, look who it is’ you heard someone say and as you turned to the voice you saw Ben approaching. ‘Hi y/n, it’s good to see you’
‘Hi Ben. It’s good to see you too. Thanks for letting me stay tonight’
‘That’s alright. Let me know if you get cold again, I’ve got a spare hoodie set out just for you’ he joked and you laughed as Mason handed you your drink, placing a protective hand on you hip and pulling your back into his chest.
‘Very funny dickhead’ Mason mocked as you lent into his chest, placing his lips by your ear to he could speak to you quietly. ‘I’ve packed an extra one so you can have mine if you get cold’ he whispered and you almost lost your breath at how thoughtful he’d been. You didn’t even think when you reached up to kiss him on the cheek but you felt his body stiffen behind you. It was the first time you’d ever shown him affection in that way and you knew it meant a lot to him but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it so you carried on talking to Ben before Sophia stormed in with her eyes set on you.
‘Mason, I told you not to hog her, you need to learn how to share’ she scolded before taking you into the other room and away from him. You turned to give him one last wink as she took you away to talk to some of the other girls. It wasn’t long before Mason had managed to find you again, slipping an arm around your waist from behind and kissing your temple as he stood and watched you chat with the girls.
‘Mason? You can go hang out with the guys, I’m fine I promise’ you told him softly, turning so you could look at him and his lips were so close to yours you wouldn’t of had to move much to kiss him, but it wasn’t the right time so you held back, turning to face him properly so you could look at him. His eyes were looking down at you so softly and it was taking everything in you not to kiss along the bridge of his nose, following the trail of adorable freckles that adorned his skin.
‘I’m fine here’ he whispered, squeezing your hip and you rolled your eyes with a smile. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘You have really pretty eyes’ you confessed and you watched his face blush and he let out a little laugh.
‘Is that so?’ He mused and you nodded, taking a drink to hide you smile before he pressed a quick kiss to you hairline. ‘Well I don’t think they’re half as pretty as yours’
‘I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one’ you laughed as he pulled you closer to him. ‘I need another drink. You gonna come with me?’
‘Of course’ he told you softly before grabbing your hand and walking you towards the kitchen. You were both in there for a while, half way through your second drink before you thought you should return to everyone else so the pair of you walked into the living room and were instantly met with a small circle of people on the floor and an empty vodka bottle in the middle of them.
‘There you are, you coming to join?’ Ben
‘What on earth are you playing?’ Mason asked, guiding you by your hips
‘Spin the bottle, duh. You gotta kiss whoever you land on’
‘I’m sorry, what?’ Mason laughed ��have we just gone back in time to when we were 16?’
‘Come on Mason, don’t be a party pooper’ you told him, walking around the circle and taking a seat next to Ben. He looked at you with a shocked face and it was only when he sat opposite you did you realise the mistake you had made. You didn’t want him kissing anyone else and every time the bottle spun round you would pray it didn’t land on him.
Luck seemed to be on your side and you both come out unscathed until it was Masons turn to spin. You were looking at the bottle as if you could change its destination by your thoughts alone and little did you know, Mason was staring at you the whole time the bottle spun. You knew he wasn’t yours and you weren’t allowed to think it but in your mind the bottle wasn’t allowed to land on anyone but you as you didn’t think you could take watching him kiss someone else.
The spin the bottle gods, or Ben as it turned out to be, appeared to be shining down on you today and you had to hold in an excited squeal when Ben stopped the bottle from spinning so it landed on you. You looked over to Mason with a laugh but he didn’t seem that pleased it landed on you. If anything he looked nervous and as if he wanted the ground to swallow him up, but he made the first move, standing up and reaching his hands down to help you stand and face him.
‘We don’t have to do this’ he whispered, eyes searching your face but you didn’t want to back out now.
‘I want to’ you told him firmly, resting you hands on his chest and he planted his on your waist as he searched your eyes for an ounce of uncertainty.
‘You’ve been drinking’
‘I’ve had two drinks, that’s light work for me’
‘I just don’t want you to regret anything’
‘I won’t’
‘But-‘
‘Mason’ you interrupted, placing a finger over his lips to stop him talking before moving you hand to his shoulder. ‘Just kiss me’
And kiss you he did. His lips landed on yours softly and you got lost in each other immediately, both pulling the other in closer and you blocked out the sounds of everyone cheering and whistling as you focused on the feel of the others lips. The butterflies in your tummy were swarming and you were thankful he had such a tight grip on you as you felt your whole body melt into him.
He was so soft, gently brushing his lips against yours before getting a bit more forceful as he squeezed your waist before letting his hands roam slightly lower to your hips. His touch made you shiver but you couldn’t get enough of him as his tongue invaded your mouth causing you to moan. Your hands made their way into his hair to keep him close but you had a feeling he wasn’t pulling away anytime soon. He was devouring you, and it was only when you started to smile did he eventually pull away, smiling himself as you looked at each other with rosy cheeks and loving stares. You’d waited so long to kiss him and he certainly didn’t disappoint
‘Alright, get a room’ Ben moaned and you both laughed loudly before grabbing Masons hand and leading him out the way you came in. You didn’t know where you were going, wanting a bit of privacy so you could kiss him again but you didn’t want to go to your room and get carried away just yet. In the end you took him through to the utility room and shoved him up against the back of the door as you shut it. He looked shocked and when you lent in to kiss him again, you felt his hands push at your waist.
‘What are you doing?’ He breathed, his pouty lips open slightly as he was seemingly still out of breath from kissing you before but his eyes were dark and you knew he wanted this.
‘Do you not want to?’ You whispered, sounding more vulnerable than you thought you be and he was quick to cup your jaw and make you look at him.
‘Of course I do. Like you have no idea how much’ he smiled which made you smile but his face was soon serious again as his eyes flickered over you. ‘It’s just we’ve been drinking and I thought you didn’t want anything more than friends with me. This changes things, you know that right?’
‘I know’ you whispered and a look of relief settled over him. You tentatively reached up, lips ghosting over his gently before you kissed him again. It was much more gentle this time, the rush and urgency of your first now out the way and Mason was pouring himself into you. He pulled away gently, continuing you kiss you all over your cheeks and you giggled at his affections. ‘Mase’ you laughed, his nickname slipping from your lips for the first and he groaned before kissing you again.
You decided to play him at his own game, and after kissing him again for a moment, you trailed your lips across his jaw and started down his neck. He cursed under his breath, hands gripping your waist tightly but you were desperate to have his hands elsewhere. You gripped his wrists, moving them down over your hips towards your bum and you felt him resist a little bit.
‘Mase, touch me please. I want you to touch me’ you told him sternly, attaching your lips to the base of his neck before sucking gently. You’d clearly found his sweet spot as the most delicious sounds began tumbling from him as his hands finally dipped under you short skirt as he gripped your bum.
‘Fucking hell, y/n. You have no idea how long I’ve waited’
‘I do, I’ve waited just as long’ you whispered before he crashed his lips back into yours, the needy feeling from before now overtaking the pair of you as he quickly turned you both so now it was your back against the door and you were just about to dip your hands under his hoodie when a knock on the door snapped you both out of your bubble.
‘Hello? Is someone in there?’
‘Yeah, two secs mate and I’ll be out’ Mason called before pecking you lips lightly and guiding you out of the room. Thankfully no one was around anymore so you got out unscathed but that didn’t mean you were done teasing him.
Every time you passed him, you hands lingered on him in some way, eyes always glued to his from across the room and when some of the girls wanted you to dance with them you best believe you made it as sexy as possible for him to the point he had to come and join you. His lips took up home on your neck as he held you from behind and you skin was covered in goosebumps as he trailed his lips up to bite your earlobe gently.
The hours flew by, the alcohol in your system now a distant memory as you were so full of adrenaline from Mason touching you but you hadn’t been alone with just him since your kiss in the utility room. The boys had managed to pull him away for a little bit as the night was coming to a close and you were sat with Sophia on Bens sofa and she told you embarrassing stories about Kai.
‘I know it’s none of my business, but I think you and Mason look lovely together’ she commented and you smiled widely at her before hiding your face in your hands.
‘You think?’
‘Of course. He’s cute, you’re hot. What’s not to like?’ She laughed ‘listen I don’t know what’s going on but I know he’s super happy when you’re around. Kai said he doesn’t even mind all the teasing at Chelsea anymore’ she told you and you both laughed loudly which caused everyone who was left to look at you.
‘I think I really like him’ you whispered, a feeling of relief washing over you as you admitted it out loud and she smiled warmly at you.
‘Well I know he really likes you’ she whispered back and you both fell into a fit of giggles just as Kai and Mason walked back into the room.
‘What are you two giggling about? You know what I don’t wanna know’ Kai laughed as he reached down to help Sophia up ‘You ready to go?’ He asked and a after some quick goodbyes you were left in the room with just Mason.
You looked at each other shyly, him making the first move to gradually come over to you and hold you by your waist as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You both leaned in excruciatingly slowly as you smiled, eyes on each others lips before he kissed you softly and you melted into him.
‘Everyone’s leaving now. You wanna go wait in the room for me?’ He whispered and you felt a tingle down you spine to your core as you knew what you wanted to do next. You nodded and he gave you one last kiss before you padded up Bens stairs and into the same room the pair of you were in before.
You were in the en-suite taking off you makeup when you heard the door open and Masons voice call for you quietly. ‘Y/n? You here?’
‘Bathroom’ you spoke and his head was quick to pop around the door. He was now out of his hoodie and once he saw what you were doing he came you join you, pulling you into his chest and littering your face with kisses.
‘Ugh, what’s on your face it tastes awful’ he laughed whilst pulling a face as you kissed his jaw lightly.
‘It’s only Makeup remover, Mase. I’ll wash it off in a sec’ you told him and he smiled at you before pulling away.
‘I’ll leave you to get changed’ he told you, halfway out the door and you took a deep breath once you’d rinsed your face, game face ready to finally have Mason right where you needed him.
Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00
#mason mount#mason mount blurb#mason mount imagine#mason mount story#mason mount series#mason mount concept#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount smut#mason mount angst#mason mount fan fiction#mason mount x reader#mason mount x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#a mountain to climb series
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Siren Pt.2-Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Fem Reader
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen(Bass Player) x Fem Reader (Lead Singer)
Word Count: 2.3k
Content/Warning: !!🔞PLUS!!, Smut, P in V penetration, Spanking, Ass-play Virginity loss, Ass-Licking, Choking, Balcony, Grinding, Exhibitionism, Degredation and Fluff/Aftercare.
Author’s Notes: Now I know I’ve used “The Summoning” by Sleep Token for inspiration for another fan-fiction of mine (Taste of the Divine). But since I’ve heard this song and recently rewatched HOTD I cannot let go of the fact that this song fits Aemond so well. So I’m using it again for this, in my mind it definitely fits better in this scenario so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh he has a bit of an ass fetish…
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the HOTD characters nor the song being used. They are used only for creative purposes.
After the bands opening night and the events that transpired later on Y/N was conflicted. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him or that she didn’t like him. But one thing about band romances is they hardly ever end well and nothing but drama replaces what once was love. They were now touring in Europe; London, England to be exact. Y/N and the crew were riding on their tour bus to their destination. Aegon, Tommy(electric guitar player), their back up singers and Y/N were up front either sleep, on their phones, or singing. Aemond was in his room, he had isolated himself from the group when he did what he did and hadn’t spoken to Y/N since. He was ashamed of himself, he’d never done something so irrational, but she…she did something to him and brought something almost primal out of him.
He figured she’d never want to speak to him again and awaited the worst to come when or if she decided to tell the rest of their bandmates what happened. He decided to finish a song him and the band had record without Y/N. It was actually written for her, but he’d never admit it. Without warning a knock was heard at his door. “Come in..” And in she came slowly finding a place to stand as awkward as it was. “So I wanted to talk about what happened the other night. Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t just come into my room do… those things to me and then pretend I don’t exist.” She was frustrated for several reasons one of them being that she had been try to get that high feeling again and failed miserably every time. The other because she thought he used her for his own pleasure and basically threw her away like some old toy.
She got slightly distracted hearing the song playing and it sounded really good. “Wait who is that singing?” She wondered he sounded familiar and then it finally came to her. “Aemond…that’s you..” he sighed softly closing his laptop and turning to face her completely. “Yeah…me and Aegon were just fucking around. It’s nothing serious…and to answer your question I’ve been avoiding you because I took things too far with you. I should’ve never touched you in that way and you were intoxicated it was shitty of me and I’m sorry. You didn’t speak to me after that night and I just assumed I had gotten the wrong idea.” She huffed and sat at the corner of his bed trying to find the words to say. “I…I wasn’t mad at you…I just…you..you made me feel something I’ve never experienced before and I didn’t know how to say I want more or tell you I like you back.”
“Wait you like me back? So why the fuck did you tell Aegon the kiss between us on stage meant nothing?” She rolled her eyes and sighed laying back on his bed. “Because I didn’t think you liked me and because I know how band relationships end. They are never a good idea to get into…it just makes everything else difficult.” He listened attentively placing a calloused hand on her thigh squeezing softly before he climbed on top of her to give her a kiss.
“Band or no band you’re stuck with me you know that right? And you had Instagram and Twitter going crazy with that kiss. They’ve been what’s the word stanning over us ever since.”She pulled him in making his lips crash into her, but they were quickly interrupted, when Aegon came crashing through the door, eavesdropping obviously. She ducked and rolled off the bed running back to the front of the bus with everyone else. “Hey Bro, Y/N? What the fuck were y’all doing in here?” He mocked them with kissing and moaning sounds laughing at their obvious embarrassment.
It seemed like the bus ride dragged on for hours and finally they were here at the venue and Y/N was super excited for tonight she had something very special planned for tonight’s performance. As usual the concert goers can rushing in, the place was sold out and every seat was filled. This was going to be perfect she thought. She walked out on stage as usual relishing the chants and cheers as her band played behind her. She raised her hand signaling them to stop and she looked to Aemond with a grin on her face. “So everyone I’m sure you all know Aemond. The best damn bass player in King’s Landing!!!”
They all cheered and she laughed calming them to let her speak. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you and him too. I just learned on my way here that he is multitalented and him and the band recorded a song. And I’ve only heard a few seconds of it so this will be a first for me and you all. So..without further ado, I welcome to the stage Aemond Targaryen!!!!” The crowd went wild chanting his name and he looked to her in horror she walked to him and placed her hands in his ear whispering. “Your going to do great babe.” She kissed his cheek moving in his spot so that he may take hers.
He stood in the spotlight the light was blinding, but he put on a brave face for her and flashed a smile to the crowd. Aegon signaled the group with the clicks of his drumsticks and they began to play and a voice almost angelic left his lips. Leaving Y/N in awe.
I've got a river running right into you
I've got a blood trail, red in the blue
Something you say or something you do
A taste of the divine
You've got my body, flesh and bone, yeah
The sky above, the Earth below
Raise me up again
Take me past the edge
I want to see the other side
See the other side
The crowd loved every second and still he left Y/N speechless. She had heard him messing around before, but she never thought such a beautiful sound could come from him until now. She felt herself being taken away with the music. Is this what love felt like she thought. He looked back to her and she sang background vocal improvising and he winked at her looking back to the crowd as he continued. His mind filled with thoughts of nothing but her as he sang. Calling to her the way his heart did so silently. The songs tone switched and there was a breakdown she had not expected. He walked toward her with his mic in hand and Vhagar on the side of his waist gripping at her hips and pulling her close.
Oh, and my love
Did I mistake you for a sign from God?
Or are you really here to cut me off?
Or maybe just to turn me on
'Cause these days
I would be lying if I told you that
I didn't wish that I could be your man
Or maybe make a good girl bad
I've got a river running right into you
I've got a blood trail, red in the blue
Something you say or something you do
The taste of the divine
You've got my body, flesh and bone
The sky above, the Earth below
Nothing to say and nowhere to go
A taste of the divine
She shuttered feeling his fingers trailing up and down her spine. He pressed his forehead to hers, chest to chest. Her heart skipped, his lips hovering over hers. He pulled away leaving her wanting. She was unbelievably turned on and it was easy to tell. Her pale cheeks were a rich red and her legs rubbed together trying to find some form of friction. He passed the mic to her kissing her forehead before scooting her back into the limelight where she belonged.
Tonight was another successful performance their were already headlines about the two of them from TMZ to MTV. They were sleeping at a hotel tonight due to their fans stalking the tour bus. Y/N gave him her room key and she went up to take a well needed shower. He let himself in and heard the shower running. He found himself looking around the large room. Checking out the large terrace that was attached to her room. A rather tantalizing idea popped into his head. Shortly after she returned from the shower wearing a crop top and black shorts that stop right above the cuff of her cheeks.
He moved in his seat pulling at his pants trying to remain calm, but she made it oh so hard to. He stood to his feet, seeming to levitate toward her. His hands found their place into the dips of her waist. Pulling her into him. “I should have my way with you for that little stunt you pulled, my little siren.” She blushed biting into her rosy bottom lip. She needed to stop before he devoured her very being. “You tease me and your not even trying. Can you feel what you do to me?” He groaned pressing his sweat pants covered hard on against her hip.
His hands slid into the back of her shorts gripping on her round flesh growling at how well it filled his hands. “Perfect..” He spoke in a hushed tone pulling away to look into her eyes. Her eyes low and filled with lust. His lips crashed into hers and she moaned into his mouth, practically melting into his arms. He picked her up by her ass cheeks and carried her out to the terrace where a table and two chair sat. He sat down with her straddling his lap. “I want you to rub your pussy against my dick.” She looked at him with embarrassed expression. “Out here?” He hummed. “Mhmm…” He positioned her perfectly pulling the back of her shorts down to cuff under her cheek. His hungry hands kneeling them like dough. Pushing and pulling them apart the cool air hitting her skin.
Soon she began bucking her hips against him his cock rubbing against her sensitive clit. His left arm wrapping around her to pull her against him and his right laying harsh smacks against her plump ass. She whimpered and moaned, the red tint flushing to her welting skin. He moaned at the sight and bit into her neck; pumping up into her hips. He spanked her until she was sore and sat her on the table pulling her shorts off the rest of the way. The cool feel of the table caused her to shiver.
He looked to her sweetly before flipping her so she stood on all fours and he stayed in his seat. He smiled at the view spreading her cheeks apart seeing the delicate pink flesh of her pussy glistening from the light hitting her slick. He licked his lips like he was starving. But that tight hole of hers was what he really wanted. He buried his face between her ass and his tongue lapped over the tight flesh of her ass her back arched involuntarily. His eyes rolled at the taste of her. She gasped and moaned holding onto the edges of the table his tongue greedily lapping at her ass and dipping into pussy every now and then.
“Gods…you taste so good..” he cooed as she mewled from the sudden suction of her clit. He smacked her ass again letting his thumb rub against the rim around her asshole. While he looked back at the mess she was already making. “Your such a dirty little slut aren’t you? You’re making quite a mess on this table I wonder if anyone can hear you.” He smiled wickedly and turned her to face him. He stood in between her legs pulling his cock from his pants letting the thick head rub between the slit of her gorgeous cunny.
She writhed in pleasure seeing her like this drove him insane he couldn’t take much more. “Are you ready, my love?” She nodded sweetly. “Please, Aemond…I need it…” she whined and he smiled kissing her to dull the pain as he prodded at her entrance slowly letting it give way around him. He buried his head into her neck and gasped. “You feel amazing, little siren.” He stayed still letting her adjust to his length and girth which was above average. She felt like she was going to break, she need him deeper. “M..More…” he looked into her eyes..”More? Well aren’t you greedy are sure you can handle more?” He laced his fingers around her throat giving her the right amount of pressure before he filled her completely.
She winced but moaned her eyes rolling back. “Good girl you take me so well..” He began his assault pumping into her mercilessly her pussy gripping him like a vice with each pull. “Oh fuck..Aemond…” She called out his name like he always imagined. Was this dream? It couldn’t be it felt too real; too good. “That’s it baby let me make you feel good, baby girl. Let the world hear how good I make you feel.”
She grunted like an animal nails digging into his back the knot in her stomach tightening. She was so close to her release, but he popped her thigh denying her of it. “Please, I can’t hold on anymore..” He hushed her “Just a little longer I want us to cum together.” He continued hitting that spongy spot the drove her crazy, feeling her legs trembling uncontrollably. “Come baby cum on my dick, give it to me.” She screamed creaming all over his dick smearing it with her arousal his seed spilled instantly inside her.
The rode out their orgasms and he carried her inside. He showered with her a got her dressed in a large t shirt leaving soft kisses along her lips and neck. He carried her to bed and they spooned for the remainder of the night until they fell asleep.
To be continued…
@pet1t3 @proudlittlewitchbitch @xlaurenlintonx @jadianasithandjedi @ellxpsismm @chainsawangel @aemondslefteyeball @baebunnyxo @ammo23 @valeskafics @boundlessfantasy
#fic rec#hotd imagine#hotd aemond#hotd series#hotd smut#modern au#read it#10/10 reccomend#hotd fanfic#aemond x you#aemond smut#aemond imagine#aemond one eye#aemond x oc#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#prince aemond#aemond the kinslayer#house of the dragon aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond x y/n#aemond stannies
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A few people in the Dorian Gray Weekly tag have observed that Oscar Wilde doesn't make it clear what he wants us to think of Dorian. I'd like to dig into that a bit more, because I think it's true, and fascinating, and weird.
Because if you take everything so far at face value, then Wilde has made it abundantly clear that Dorian is a terrible person. His actions have resulted in a young woman's suicide. He has a visual record in his attic of his moral degradation and that record has become "evil". The picture is covered in "signs of sin", and it's pretty clear that Wilde means that literally. It's not just that Dorian is being spared the realistic physical consequences of his misdeeds, like bags under his eyes after a heavy night out. His sins, which he is unquestionably committing, are visibly altering the appearance of his portrait, like that Roald Dahl quote:
If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until you can hardly bear to look at it.
We don't know exactly what his sins are. But we know how they cause people to act around him:
It was remarked, however, that some of those who had been most intimate with him appeared, after a time, to shun him. Women who had wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved all social censure and set convention at defiance, were seen to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered the room.
The only reason that there isn't more scandal around him is explicitly because he's rich and attractive. Not because there's any hint that he's sometimes a good person. While Wilde doesn't say "Dorian was evil and his portrait looked evil because he was an evil person who did evil things", he comes pretty damn close to it.
And yet...
Despite all that condemnation, it's hard to come away from reading this novel with the impression that Wilde is actually condemning Dorian's actions, as the commentary in the tag demonstrates. (Which is handy, because this is vibes-based analysis and tricky to prove otherwise).
I think there are two reasons for this. One is the lavish, indulgent descriptions of everything Dorian is doing. The details feel like they're shared in a spirit of appreciation, not judgement. Post-Sibyl, Dorian's crimes are presented in an innuendo-laden, nudge-nudge way that lets you imagine whatever level of debauchery you find titillating. (It's always fun to see where adaptations choose to draw the line here). Dorian's life is shallow, but it's vivid and luxurious - and more than a little enviable. And sometimes it's fun to read about rich people doing bad things!
(Of course, that means that the reader ignores Dorian's sins in favour of his wealth just like his acquaintances do).
The other reason is the weird relationship between Dorian's life and Oscar Wilde's own. Wilde puts what feels like an uncomfortable amount of himself into Dorian - the book that Dorian "could not free himself from", that contributes to his moral degradation, is one of Wilde's own favourite books. Wilde also lived an indulgent, hedonistic lifestyle that took him into sordid parts of London, where he did things that, once revealed, would see him shunned by society, some of which we would still judge harshly.
Wilde was writing for an audience who didn't know as much about his life as we do, but he was already an established celebrity when The Picture of Dorian Gray was published, so I think his readership would see an echo of Dorian's decadence in Wilde himself. Like Basil Hallward, he put a lot of himself into his art. Like Basil Hallward, it revealed more of him than he perhaps intended - but he did intend some of it.
I can't quite imagine writing a character who shares a lot of my interests and enthusiasms, plus some of the worst of my behaviour, and then explicitly describing that character as evil, but that's what Oscar Wilde did. Dorian Gray doesn't feel like it's written in a spirit of self-loathing, but nor does it feel like a demonstration of cognitive dissonance. So I'm no closer to figuring out what the hell is going on here. But for me, the chewy complexity of exactly how Wilde wants us to feel about Dorian - admiring, judgmental, condemnatory, detached - is a significant part of why I enjoy this novel so much.
#dorian gray weekly#oscar wilde#the picture of dorian gray#apologies to my followers for the tonal shift from beetleposting but this was taking up space in my brain and i needed to get it out#and i have an irrational dislike of queuing things
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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)
PART FOUR: THE ESSAY
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Mentions of Depression, Anxiety
PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!
PLEASE NOTE THAT I HAVE REWRITTEN THIS STORY AND PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE (rewritten).
A week had passed and you had settled back into drama school without any problem whatsoever which, to you and your best friend Emma, was a surprise.
You had told Emma everything. You told her about the night you spent with Cillian three weeks ago, you told her about who he was and you told her exactly how you felt about this man being your lecturer now. It bothered you and you desperately wanted to quit, feeling torn about the attraction you still felt towards him while being with James.
Luckily for you, however, Emma was the voice of reason. Like always, she supported you, retained your secrets and reminded you that it would just be for four months and then he would move on and so would you. The semester would be over by the end of November. It was your final one and you would probably not see him again after that.
“Don’t forget that you are on a scholarship. You need this and, no doubt, this class will help you with your acting skills” is what Emma reminded you of and, since you were grateful for the place you were in these days, you agreed with her. She was right. You needed this in order to leave your past behind as, just like Emma, you went through the so called “foster system” in the US which was nothing short of horrific.
Both, Emma and you immigrated to the United States without a family to support you. You arrived as refugees at the same processing centre when you were just ten years old, making you both unsuitable for adoption which was largely due to the fact that most families approved for adoption wanted babies or toddlers under the age of three.
As such, you both moved from one foster home to another and the last of them was the worst for you. Your so-called foster parents were strict and any time you did not obey to their rules, you were punished for it. Food was withheld from you and, on occasion, you were even beaten to the point where your skin turned blue. During this time, you had been to hospital five times and no matter how often you complained, nothing changed until you ran away.
You had nowhere to stay for a while and then, when you turned sixteen, you moved out into a home designed for girls like you. It was a home for young women who went through abuse and this was exactly where, after several years, you reunited with Emma.
The facility provided excellent care for anyone who needed it but, on occasion, you felt somewhat worthless and ashamed about having lived there. Thus, you eventually took not one, but three jobs while furthering your studies at night through a state-run school. You moved out shortly after that and the college you went through helped you and Emma to apply for a scholarship abroad.
Together with eight other students in the state, you received some funding to attend different universities and schools across Europe, for which the ones based in Dublin became your choice.
Unlike London, Dublin was affordable for you both. You were now sharing a tiny studio apartment, and the money you received alongside your scholarship helped a lot.
You were an excellent dancer and, because of it, you now only had to have one rather than three jobs to support yourself, making your life relatively easy in comparison to your past.
In accordance to James and Lorraine however, who were rich and entitled, you still worked too hard. You had nothing in common with them and, even though James had been dating you for years, he always criticised you and your life choices.
He criticised you for having run away from your foster-home. He criticised you for working forty hours per week and he criticised you for saving money almost religiously.
On occasion, he also criticized your looks and the fact that you dressed too plainly. Your clothes were largely second hand, a mix of denim, sneakers, and plain coloured shirts. You owned two dresses, both black and wearing make-up was a rarity for you and you were told by your boyfriend that you should be making more of an effort for him.
But then, why should you? He never made an effort for you and being with him made you wonder whether you could ever leave your past behind. He had no idea how good his life had been while the memories of your past kept haunting you, playing with your mind.
You reflected on your past quite often. It was what kept you grounded even when you were around people like James and Lorraine. But speaking about this pain was something you struggled to do ever since you opened up to James about your upbringing. It was almost like he was embarrassed by you because if it and this hurt more than the bruises you sustained all those years ago.
Unfortunately for you though, reflecting on your past was something you were required to do as part of your first essay in PRAC300. You had to write about yourself, in a creative kind of way, drawing parallels between any painful events you encountered and a fictional character you were reading about. You had to write about how you felt in the midst of a difficult situation and then describe how you would show your emotions about such events in front of others.
Why this was relevant to your acting skills you did not know, but you wrote down what you thought anyway without putting much effort into your work. You made something up and when you submitted the paper to Cillian, you also chose to ask him about the curriculum for this unit moving forward. Again, you were playing with the idea of quitting now, but you weren’t quite sure how.
Until such day, you had largely ignored him and he had ignored you. In class, he pretended that you did not exist and rarely ever called you out to answer any questions. Without your knowledge though, this was his very own defence mechanism. It was his way of coping while he adjusted to the fact that he was meant to be teaching you now and by asking him about the essay and upcoming unit content, you took him off guard.
**
In addition to your questions about the curriculum though, today was also the day where, even if this particular essay was not in play, you could no longer have ignored him as, just last night, photos of him on a date with a fellow actress emerged on Twitter.
Of course, you took no interest in Twitter, but other disappointed students like Lorraine shared this information with you before class. The actresses’ name was Sophie O’Callum and she was currently filming in Dublin. Sophie was in her late thirties which, to you, seemed like an appropriate age for Cillian. She was blonde, skinny and incredibly good looking, creating a fair bit of jealously amongst your peers and this emerging jealousy quickly became evident to you during class.
Usurpingly, after hearing the news, Lorraine was rather upset about the date. She was now trying it on hard with your fellow lecturer and this, in itself, became amusing when Cillian shut her down.
It was obvious to you that he was annoyed by her and whilst you felt sorry for her, you also secretly enjoyed the fact that he retained his professionalism in class especially when Lorraine made advances towards him.
But, that’s not to say that you were not a little jealous too about Cillian’s date with an equally famous actress and you did not know why. You only ever slept with Cillian once and the fact that he was seeing someone else should not have bothered you. But did it. It upset you and, thus, when you finally walked into his office after class to ask him about the essay and unit content, you had to put on an act. You had to pretend that you did not care about his date and, for all you knew, he probably bought it.
***
“Hey Y/N, how can I help you?” Cillian asked after you walked into his office before shutting the door behind you.
“You look like you had a big night” you observed while watching him rub his eyes for the millionth time that day. He did this all throughout class and now he did it again, right in front of you.
“What makes you say that?” he wondered.
“You look a bit dusty” you pointed out with a giggle in order to lighten the mood.
“I may have had a few too many pints, but don’t tell the dean, alright?” Cillian teased, knowing that you would not say a word to the school’s principal.
“As if I would” you pointed out nonetheless before bringing up his date. “Although, you do realise that the pictures of you and Sophie O’Callum are all over the internet, right? You both looked drunk and knackered” you laughed but Cillian simply furrowed his eyebrows.
“Seriously?” he asked after picking up his phone and googling himself.
“Don’t you follow yourself on socials?” you wondered as you watched what he was doing.
“I don’t have social media” Cillian chuckled before telling you that he was too old for it, which was a comment that amused it.
“Oh please” you laughed which was when he quickly and somewhat unexpectedly addressed the rumours he was reading.
“Just for the record though, this was not a date. We went out for drinks and then we went our separate ways” he pointed out and, whilst you secretly felt relieved about what he was saying, you put on your acting hat and furrowed your eyebrows.
“And you are telling me this why?” you asked as if you were not interested in what he had to say and Cillian bought it and snapped out of it.
“Good question” he said before asking why you were in here to see him.
“I have a question about the essay which I handed in earlier today” you said before carrying on. “How are my emotions relevant to this class?” you asked and, before you could point out to him that you felt uncomfortable with the essay topic, Cillian began to explain.
“Well, learning how to act starts with learning about emotions and how to display them on screen or on stage. Often actors can draw from their own experiences and…” he said just before you interrupted him.
“But this stuff is personal” you blurted out to which Cillian simply shrug his shoulders.
“It’s part of the curriculum Y/N. I didn’t write those essay templates. I don’t even get to grade them” he informed you, causing you to sigh.
“But you will read them?” you wondered.
“Yes. I will read them and then pass them on for grading, with my comments…” Cillian began to explain and you interrupted him again.
“Fuck” you spat. “We slept with each other and I don’t want you to know about my past and my fucking emotions” you told him and, to your surprise, Cillian reacted in a gentle kind of way.
“Y/N, I won’t judge you for whatever happened to you in the past. What you write in your essay is confidential and whether we slept with each other or not is irrelevant. We both agreed to put this one-night stand behind us and that is what I am doing, alright?” he said and this was all you needed to hear before storming out of his office.
Three days later…
Three days had passed and, like most Mondays, you arrived at school early that morning. You had just been for a run, showered and sat down with your lunchbox, which is when you saw Cillian walk into the lecture hall with a cup of coffee in his hand.
He was surprised to see you there and, after putting down his mug, he approached you.
“Y/N,” he murmured almost nervously.
“Cillian. Good Morning” you smiled and, after engaging in a little small talk, he addressed the elephant in the room.
“After class, could we, maybe, talk about your essay submission please” was what he said and your heart immediately skipped a beat.
“Yes. Sure. I will see you at your office then? What time works for you?” was your response and, within seconds, you locked in a time while, the truth was, that you had no idea about what you were going to tell him. What was it that he needed to hear from you, you wondered? The truth? You weren’t going to give him that. He was better off failing you and get the professor to give you a bad grade.
So clearly, this was not going to go anywhere and, just as you were sitting in Cillian’s class again, you reflected on all the pain you felt when thinking back at when you were a young teenager.
It was this kind of pain you did not want him to know about so you sat there, awkwardly, like a pathetic loser, raising your hand, answering questions, to make up the credits that you would need after he failed your essay.
You put on act and, luckily for you, he never called you out that day. He left you be, sitting quietly at the back of the class room and then, without giving it any thought whatsoever, you were the first one out the door after a two-hour session, wanting to avoid him at all cost.
Yes, you needed to go and see him at his office. But you had no intention to actually do so, at least not now while your heart was racing and anxiety took over your anxious brain. You had no idea what to tell him and simply wanted to be left alone right now.
“Will I see you in ten?” Cillian reminded you nonetheless in passing as the students behind you were all hanging back, chatting and joking with the others. Lorraine, in particular, attempted to put on an act of her own, flirting with Cillian again.
“Yes, I will see you then” you confirmed nervously before you quickly made your way to the ladies room.
The lady’s lavatory followed a dull theme of light green. It was dated and made you feel a little nauseous.
You were nervous about meeting with Cillian about your essay and thus splashed some cold water on to your face before taking deep breaths. Then, when you looked into the mirror you saw the ghost of a girl who had died a long time ago.
Your face was gaunt and all your features were sunken in. Your eyes, once your best feature, were the only things that seemed to stand out now, as if you were just that, all vacant and lifeless. There was nothing else to look at. You were already disappearing and realised that you were all bones and baggage now, made up of shadows and secrets and nothing, nothing at all.
Then, you recalled what your dance coach had said to you just recently, telling you that you were one of the best dancers in class, but you lacked emotion. You lacked expression and you certainly lacked happiness. It was obvious to him, which is why he suggested an acting class to you. But perhaps acting skills were not what you needed. Perhaps you simply needed some happiness in your life, but felt as though you were not entitled to it.
Then you remembered, that, just a few weeks ago, you did feel alive and happy for one night only and this was the night you had spent with Cillian.
It was strange, exciting and sensual and certainly felt different to when you were with James who did not help the way you felt within your own body. You were insecure and, at least in your mind, there was nothing special about you.
Being with James was like a bad habit, just like smoking. You kept him around and went back to him simply for the fact that he provided something to you which you were familiar with. He provided structure, security and you adored his family.
But he did not excite you. Life did not excite you. It never did. It was painful to be who you were and, thus, you wanted to break every mirror in the bathroom. Every time you saw yourself you saw the sad little girl you used to be and still were, caught in this viscous cycle of negative thoughts. You were afraid to take risks because it had been enshrined in to you throughout foster care that taking risks was wrong. You lacked your very own family and love and often wondered whether your life would change one day.
Then, eventually, you locked yourself into a stall to get away from your reflection. You knew that you were nearing another mental breakdown any minute now and began to scream, quietly, but loud enough for others to hear.
It was quarter past ten now and you had been there, inside the lavatory stall, for fifteen minutes. You put your head in your hands, your fingernails digging into your face, wanting to scream but not having the nerve to do it.
Traumatising thoughts about your past visited you just like bad dreams did at night. You were losing your mind or maybe you have lost it already.
Some time passed, but you could not tell how much. You just let yourself slip away from reality for a bit but then, suddenly, the sound of the restroom door swishing open made you jump, startling you out of your mad, mad thoughts. A familiar pair of brown leather shoes came to stop outside of your stall.
"Y/N? Are you alright?" were the words you heard next and, suddenly, time slowed. Your skin burned and your voice was shaky when you spoke.
"Please go. You are not meant to be in here" you said although you were not even sure if you really wanted him to, but you said it anyways.
"But I am in here now and I am not leaving. Lorraine said that you have been in the lavatory for over half an hour. So, please come out before I tare the door open and embarrass myself in front of the entire school” Cillian chuckled, but with great concern in his voice. He knew that you were simply hiding in there and he was clearly worried about you and your wellbeing.
“Fuck. Seriously?” you stammered as you got up slowly and opened the stall door.
“Yes! Seriously Y/N! Clearly, you are avoiding me and I thought that we talked about everything that we needed to talk about. But, I supppose I was wrong as, first, you submit this ridiculous paper to me and now you are hiding from me…’ Cillian then said quietly as he was facing away from you in what you presumed to be an effort to give you some privacy, but his eyes then met yours when you looked in the reflection of the mirror.
You saw yourself too, standing in front of him with tears in your eyes.
“Y/N, fuck, are you okay? Did something happen? Should I call the student counsellor?” Cillian then asked anxiously when he noticed your tears and you tried to hold his gaze, but his eyes were too intense so you looked down at the tiled floor.
"God no, please. I just had a moment. I am okay” you stammered quickly but Cillian looked sceptical.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he then asked politely but you shook your head.
“I think I embarrassed myself enough already” you then told him but his eyebrows furrowed quickly.
“You are afraid of your own emotions and I get that. Most people are. But you know what I have learned throughout many years of acting?” Cillian said quietly again but, this time, with a warm and gentle smile.
“What?” you asked, wondering where he was going with this.
“That accepting and dealing with your emotions is an integral part of life. Unless you do that, you are not going to be happy and you most certainly will struggle with the line of work you chose. So, if you need to talk with someone about the way you feel, then talk to me. I am here to listen and what happened between us doesn’t matter, alright? I am not the kind of person who sees things superficially and, I don’t know why, but I do care about you. I want you to be okay” Cillian then explained while gently rubbing his palms over your upper arms and you were glad for his words and the way he spoke them, in a gentle and caring way.
“Thank you, Cillian” you cried before taking a deep breath. “Can I redo my paper?” you then asked. You still did not want to talk with him about your past just yet and hoped that he would accept your offer in lieu of an explanation as to why you were so anxious right now.
“I was hoping that you would and I want you to know that, when you do, I will not judge you or think any less of you for what you write” Cillian reassured you and, after you gave him a quick nod and wiped away your tears, he walked towards the door of the lavatory and held it open for you.
“Can you redo the paper by Wednesday? I need to pass it on to the unit co-ordinator” Cillian then said with a slight chuckle and unbothered by the fact that he just came walking out of the ladies’ bathroom with you.
“I can. And I am sorry for my slobby work” you then said and Cillian smiled. God, he was so beautiful and you stared shamelessly at him. He should not have become a lecturer at school full of young female students. Temptation was going to come knocking at his door, hordes of twenty something year olds begging to be noticed, to be loved, to be fucked. It was insanity and, just like Lorraine and some others, you wanted him and that was another form of madness.
A few days later…
Eventually, Wednesday came about and, when it did, your first stop was at Cillian’s office. You had promised to hand in your revised paper by nine and so you did.
This time, your effort was six pages long and included a large spiel about the foster care system in the US and how it shaped you from an emotional perspective.
It also included an array of emotions you believed many others like you felt when dealing with every-day life and you drew an analysis about them to the character you read about.
It was a paper which you had prepared with great care and thought and, in the end, the references to pieces of literature within your writing impressed Cillian so much so that, on Thursday evening, he sent you a message on the school’s online portal.
“I am impressed. This was certainly worth the wait” he said with an emoji on the end and his message certainly made you laugh.
“I am glad, because it wasn’t easy to write knowing that you would be the one reading it” you responded quickly after you saw Cillian’s message pop up as a notification on your phone at around 10 o’clock that night and, the fact that he wrote to you that late made you wondered whether he was thinking about you.
Clearly, he had read the paper on Wednesday morning already before making his notes on it and sending it to the unit co-ordinator, so why did he only message you now? There must have been a reason for it, right?
Unbeknownst to you, there was most certainly a reason behind this message. Cillian had, indeed, been thinking about you and the truth was that he was taken by what you wrote in your essay.
He saw the care you took in writing down your every thought and your very own emotions and, whilst he could sense that you were hurt by the system, he did not consider you to be weak. To the contrary, he considered you to be much stronger than you thought yourself you were. You took matters into your own hands after the system had failed you. Unlike James, Cillian was impressed by your courage and soon realised why it was you who had been chosen for the scholarship.
You were determined and, whilst you struggled to come to terms with your feelings about what happened to you, you were emotionally intelligent. You knew what you needed to do and you knew about the bad influences in your life. You just had to act upon your desires, follow your goals and leave your pain and restraints in past.
As such, Cillian had nothing to add to your paper and thought about it every night since. There was something about you which intrigued him even more now and his thoughts about you were not just sexual anymore. His interest in you was on a different kind of level now and the feelings he was starting to have for you bothered him, causing him to supress his very own emotions.
He had to put on an act of his own, pretending that he was not interested in you but, every time he had a pint with his best mate Dermont, Cillian’s true feelings surfaced as, suddenly, the conversations they shared were about you.
Even though Cillian assured him that he had forgotten all about your short lived fling, Dermont did not believe him as his friend spoke about you with a lot of admiration.
In addition to that, Dermont also knew that Cillian was not the type of guy who would engage in one-night stands and then never think about them again. He must have liked you if he took you home, to his house that night. And he most certainly had not forgotten about you now that you were his student as every conversation about his work was also about you, your talent and the way you interacted with him.
A few days later…
Eventually, Friday came around and it was another day where you had a lecture in PRAC300 before commencing your on-stage experience for which you were each given an on-stage character role and a script to read.
The roles were allocated randomly and when you were assigned the role of a mother who had recently lost her child, you could not help but sigh. It was not a role you were confident to act out and, yet, you knew that you had no choice. You had to take the role just as the other students had to take theirs. This included James who, also, ended up with a role that he was unhappy about but, unlike you, he spoke about it in Cillian’s class.
“Cillian, man, I think there is a mistake” he said in an arrogant way. “This role should be given to a girl” James determined, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.
“Why?” Cillian asked, seeing that James had been drawn for the role of a character named Tina.
“Because Tina is a girl. I am playing a fucking girl” James laughed but Cillian did not think that his comment was funny and neither did you.
“Not exactly James. The role is non-binary” Cillian explained before telling him that this was an acting class. “It is important for you to step out of your comfort zone” Cillian furthermore said before pointing out that two female students in the class are portraying male characters as well.
“Now, if I can get everyone to schedule a time with me for the next week so that we can go through your role, one on one, that would be fantastic. I intend to allocate half an hour to each student” Cillian said and, of course, Lorraine and some of the other female students were quick to snap up the first available spots, leaving them with next to no time to prepare.
Luckily for Lorraine, she was portraying a young female teacher who was in love with her student. It was a role based on a book you had read quite recently and the fact that she got this role was rather amusing to you. She had an interest in Cillian and it was basically a matter of roles in reverse, if only Cillian had known.
When it was finally your turn to book in a time with Cillian however, you realised that your work schedule clashed with his remaining availabilities and it was at this point that he made an exception for you which was something that got you talking.
“I give dance classes from 3 o’clock to 6 o’clock each day and I cannot get out of them. It pays the bills and I am teaching ten teens for their upcoming dance competition in Cork so I have no idea what to do” you told him after the last student left the room and, sure enough, he remembered your passion for dancing.
“You teach dance? I did not know that. Are you enjoying it?” Cillian asked surprised and you nodded.
“Yes. I love it” you told him while he looked at his calendar.
“Alright, so how about 7 o’clock on Thursday then? It is after hours but I could come in and see you here” Cillian offered and you were surprised by his suggestion.
“Is that not too late for you?” you wondered, knowing that he had children as well.
“Well, generally speaking, Thursdays and Fridays are good for me. My ex has the kids those days and, even if they were to come over, they are old enough to look after themselves for an hour or two” Cillian responded before telling you that they often do their own thing now that they are older, meeting up with friends after school and playing games at the local arcade.
“So, where do you teach dancing?” Cillian then wanted to know, being more chatty than usual.
“At the Dublin School of Dance. I teach contemporary dance and ballet” you told Cillian who, again furrowed his eyebrows.
“My daughter goes to that school twice a week” Cillian told you before showing you a photograph of her which he took during her last class.
“No way! I think I have met your daughter then” you said while Cillian was sliding through the photographs and you could immediately see the resembles of him in his daughter. They had the same pale freckled skin and light-coloured hair.
“Really?” he asked with great surprise and a hint of concern.
“Yes. She is in Miriam Mill’s class, isn’t she?” you asked and Cillian nodded before telling you that Miriam was leaving soon. She had an offer from another Dance School in London which she took.
“She is leaving, yes. But, your daughter will get another pretty awesome teacher soon, so don’t you worry” you then teased and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows quickly.
“Really? Is that new teacher good?” he asked without realising that you were going to be his daughter’s new teacher.
“She is the best” you joked before telling him that you would be taking on the classes for her age group in a couple of weeks.
“Talking about awkwardness” Cillian then said with concern, seeing that this may become a little weird but, to you, it meant nothing. If anything, you were looking forward to meeting Cillian’s daughter properly and preparing her for the dance competitions.
“Yeah, I mean, you could enrol her into another dance school if you like” you said nonetheless but he chuckled.
“And explain this to my ex how?” Cillian asked while cocking an eyebrow.
“Well, you could tell her that you slept with the ballet teacher who also happens to be your student at drama school. I am sure that would make quite a story” you joked and Cillian quickly reminded you to be discreet.
“Y/N, please…” he said while you laughed.
“God, relax Cillian. I am going to make sure that she has fun and excels with her routine for the finals. There is no bad blood between us and, like I said, nothing ever happened right? It was just sex, a one off, that is it. No one will ever know about it. My lips are sealed” you promised him and Cillian gave you a reluctant nod.
“Yes, it was just sex” he repeated quietly after ensuring that there was no one around. “So, Thursday, 7 o’clock then?” he then asked and you confirmed.
“Yes, 7 o’clock is great. Thank you. But I must go now. I am already late for training. Thanks Cillian” you said before grabbing your things and walking through the door.
To be continued…
Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!
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#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian x fem!reader#cillian fanfic#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x oc
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Various different ways of effectively legalizing slavery. All on display in different regions colonized by England. Including the formal system of chattel slavery at plantations in the United States; the criminalization of poverty and enforced labor regimes of urban factories in the British metropole in London; and the prison labor of penal colonies in Australia.
Reading about how some people were victims of all of these ways of de facto enslavement. For example, all of these conditions of imprisonment were experienced by one man named John Moseley.
Around the year 1800, this forced labor existed across the British Empire. At the time of the American Revolution, Moseley had been enslaved in tobacco fields under the chattel slavery system in the Tidewater region of colonial Virginia. When Britain offered emancipation to slaves willing to join the military campaign against the Americans, Moseley joined the British forces. When Britain conceded and surrendered, Moseley feared that he would be re-enslaved in the United States, where chattel slavery remained legal, so he fled to London. However, around this same time, in England, rural livelihoods were being made more difficult; during this so-called Industrial Revolution, many were forced to move to cities or accept manufacturing jobs. And authorities were beginning the tradition of criminalizing poverty, rounding up “vagrants and vagabonds” in urban areas, as debt and poverty were forcing people to work in brutal labor conditions in factories. So Moseley sought income through criminal fraud. Moseley was arrested. He was sentenced to death. However, a death sentence could be commuted if the prisoner submitted to “transportation” and labor. And thus Moseley was once again imprisoned in chains, once again forced to work, and shipped to the convict colonies of Australia.
As Jeff Sparrow puts it:
To control the desperate and the jobless, the authorities passed harsh new laws, a legislative program designed to quell disorder and ensure a pliant workforce for the factories. The Riot Act banned public disorder; the Combination Act made trade unions illegal; the Workhouse Act forced the poor to work; the Vagrancy Act turned joblessness into a crime. Eventually, over 220 offences could attract capital punishment - or, indeed, transportation. [...] [C]onvict transportation - a system in which prisoners toiled without pay under military discipline - replicated many of the worst cruelties of slavery. [...] Middle-class anti-slavery activists expressed little sympathy for Britain’s ragged and desperate, holding [...] [them] responsible for their own misery. The men and women of London’s slums weren’t slaves. They were free individuals – and if they chose criminality, [...] they brought their punishment on themselves. That was how Phillip [commander of the British First Fleet settlement in Australia] could decry chattel slavery while simultaneously relying on unfree labour from convicts. The experience of John Moseley, one of the eleven people of colour on the First Fleet, illustrates how, in the Australian settlement, a rhetoric of liberty accompanied a new kind of bondage. [...] The eventual commutation of a capital sentence to transportation meant that armed guards marched a black ex-slave, chained once more by the neck and ankles, to the Scarborough, on which he sailed to New South Wales. [...] For John Moseley, the “free land” of New South Wales brought only a replication of that captivity he’d endured in Virginia. His experience was not unique. [...] [T]hroughout the settlement, the old strode in, disguised as the new. [End quote. Text by Jeff Sparrow. “Friday essay: a slave state - how blackbirding in colonial Australia created a legacy of racism.” The Conversation. 4 August 2022.]
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Sherlock fandom. John finding new families along the way.
Surprisingly easy
John has never had any reason to cherish his own family. His parents were always fighting about some trifle detail or other. Harry was difficult at best, detestable at her worst.
He heard the saying for the first time when he was fifteen, and it immediately hit home.
Friends are the family you choose.
John didn’t have many friends. Not close ones anyway. His fellow rugby teammates were the closest he’d got before uni. At his practise at Barts Hospital, Mike Stamford was a bloke to rely on. Easy and fun to hang out with. A bit boring and predictable, but John could live with that.
When John joined the army and sat foot in a war zone, his comrades became his new family. As a captain he had the responsibility and was suddenly the head of the family. Not that he thought about his men as family at the time, but when he came back home to London, John recognised that they indeed had been the closest to a family he’s ever had.
John has always been a private person. His trust issues come from years of being let down by his biological family. So, the instant attraction and trust he felt toward Sherlock when Mike introduced them, came as an utter surprise to John. Months later, Sherlock revealed having had the same feelings when John lended him his mobile.
“You were the first person who’d intrigued me in years. Although I could deduce much about you, there was always something that astounded me. It still happens occasionally,” Sherlock admits.
“I’m flattered,” John tells him. “To be fair, I never thought that someone like you could find me a tad bit interesting.”
Sherlock had convinced John of the fact quite thoroughly using his lips and hands after that. Gasping for air, John had agreed that he indeed was the most precious and fascinating human being ever created, all out of fear that Sherlock would stop his worshipping of John’s body.
***
The car stops outside the cosy house, and John can’t wait to get out and greet the residents. Sherlock and Mycroft are more reluctant to move. John rolls his eyes at his beloved and the beloved’s older brother.
“Come on, you two. Stop behaving like teenagers being forced to visit family members. They both love you dearly, and I’m in awe over the fact that they tolerate your behaviour,” John says sternly before he opens the car door.
He moves rapidly toward the house, but before he can knock, the door swings open and John finds himself embraced by an elated woman, who smells of baked goods and gardenia.
“John, darling,” Violet Holmes exclaims. “How lovely to see you.”
“Likewise,” John says and presses a kiss to her cheek.
Walter Holmes comes into view behind Violet, and John frees himself to greet the patriarch. They shake hands and Walter places a warm hand on John’s shoulder.
“Alright there, son?” he asks.
“Absolutely. I’ve even managed convincing your offspring to come along,” John grins.
“Ah! Quite the achievement,” Walter praises.
John turns when he hears Violet coo and hug her sons equally enthusiastic as she did with John just minutes earlier. It never fails to amuse John how affectionate the Holmes brothers are with their parents once in their orbit. The bickering between the two, is another matter, but it’s less venomous here than in London.
Violet Holmes is an excellent cook, and even Sherlock eats his fair share of the delicious meal, not to mention the chocolate mousse with fresh berries from Walter’s garden.
Being the only Watson at a table crowded with Holmes’s, John feels content and he can honestly say that they all are his new family. Even Mycroft, Sherlock’s protests notwithstanding.
***
“It’s surprisingly easy to love your family,” John muses where he lies curled up in Sherlock’s arms on the sofa in front of the fireplace later that evening.
Sherlock hums and combs his long fingers through John’s hair.
“What would you say to becoming a legitimate member of the Holmes family, John?” Sherlock asks quietly.
John gasps and turns to face Sherlock, his eyes starting to fill.
“Sherlock,” he whispers. “Are you asking me what I…”
“Yes, John! Obviously,” Sherlock says with a teasing eyeroll, before his face softens.
John sits up and straddles Sherlock’s thighs, his hands cupping Sherlock’s cheeks carefully. He catches plush lips with his thinner ones, and snogs Sherlock breathless.
“That’s a yes, by the way,” John murmurs.
Such a wonderful prompt! It was a joy to write.
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Revelations
A The Other Shelby story
Pairing: Alfie Solomons × fem!reader (OC hybrid)
Summary: The Shelby sister is torn between her loyalty to her brother and his Jewish frenemy who also happens to be her lover.
Words: 1.900
Warnings: none
The Other Shelby stories: Resurrection
A/N: Thank you @cillmequick again for beta reading this and your endless support 🫂 Also tagging @buttercupsandboys because you asked me ☺️
"So your brother still doesn't know about us?"
"No, and if you wanna keep your eyesight, it's better if it stays that way."
"Y'know, the little trick you played on me last year with your grenade... I think that makes us all even, doesn't it? I think it really does."
“I think what really makes us all even is that I'm fucking someone who betrayed the Shelby family and so is Tommy.”
She furrowed her brows as she stared at the ceiling, her hand stroking up and down her lover's broad chest that was covered with ink and hair. Her brother's wife wasn't her taste at all but she knew she had no right to talk some sense into him for marrying an Irish spy. Not when she was spending that much time with the very man who sold Tommy and her family for a deal with Sabini two years prior. But Alfie was right, she and Tommy had paid him back well when they had forced him to overthink his outrageous demand to have all of their businesses written over to him. And if the worst had come to the worst, she would've blown his arse off, lover or not.
Although she had to admit, it would have broken her heart. Even though they didn't put a name on their relationship, two years were a long time to get to know each other, to grow close. After everything that had gone down at Epsom, with Tommy reconnecting with Grace over their child and his unreasonable love for her, she had needed to spend some time away from her family, for the first time in her life ever since Mrs Shelby took her in as a little girl. She and Tommy had always been attached at the hip, from dirty streets used as playgrounds as kids to dirty business giving them money and power as adults. Still, she could not forgive his wife for coming into their life with the sole purpose of ruining it. That was the line she had drawn, the difference between Grace and Alfie. Her mission had been spying on the Shelbys from day one, working together with a man as vile as Campbell, while Alfie had been doing his business as usual, making deals, breaking them and trying to get the most out of it all. She could excuse his behaviour because that was what gangsters did and she had spent enough time around them to know what they were like. She was one of them.
Whether she made that excuse for Alfie because he was who he was to her or not, she wasn't sure. She had been attracted to him pretty early on and escaping to Camden, to him, had been a welcome change. At first, it had been mainly his sheets where she had spent her time with him - or rather his desk in his office at the bakery. It had taken them some time to take it to his bedroom, some intimacy and closeness before they would spend the whole night together and sometimes even wake up next to each other.
Whatever this was, it was good for both of them. He valued her input on business related matters, everything that didn't have to do with the Peaky Blinders, of course, and her wit and attitude she liked to give him most times. She liked the freedom she had in London, the control she could take over her own life outside of gang wars - and she enjoyed feeling wanted and appreciated by Alfie in every way.
Tommy didn't know about the more or less romantic arrangement she had with his former business partner then enemy now business partner again and if she wanted to keep up her attitude towards Grace, it had to stay that way.
“Y'know luv, I think as much as you dislike your good sister, you cannot complain, ya really can't. You were at their wedding and gave them your blessing” Alfie let her know his thoughts on her little family drama while he scratched his beard as if he was deep in thought.
She rolled her eyes at him and sat up, wrapping the thin blanket around her body to cover up her breasts as she looked down at him with a frown.
“I declined his request, I think that was enough of a hint that I do not approve of their bond.”
Despite all the bad blood between her and his bride, Tommy had still asked her to be his best woman at his wedding - just another anomaly that Thomas Shelby wouldn't have given a single fuck about if anyone had questioned why he had his sister as his closest confidant at his wedding instead of one of his brothers. It hadn't got that far because she wanted to spend as little time as possible at the wedding and around Grace’s entourage. That had been her official excuse too because “Do you know who used to grab my arse the most in the field hospitals? Those fucking red uniforms”. Of course, Tommy had known that hadn't been the real reason - or at least not the only one - but he still had had the smallest bit of hope to build bridges between the two women closest to him in his life.
“Why are you naked in ma bed and we're talking about ya brother anyway?”
“In all honesty, you started it. You're so obsessed with him” she chuckled before lying back down into his arms, making Alfie now roll his eyes at her.
“C’mere you little minx and let me show you ma real obsession.”
-
"Does my sister happen to be with you?"
"Tommy, shalom, my old friend. How can I help you?"
"I asked you a question, Alfie."
"Yeah yeah... what was that about again?"
He could hear the man on the other end take a deep breath.
"I asked you whether my SISTER is in your FUCKING BAKERY."
Alfie allowed himself a few seconds, leaving Tommy hanging by a thread judging by the heavy breathing that came from the speaker that he held against his ear.
"Hm... no Tommy, no she isn't. Why would she be 'ere eh? That woman tried to blow my arse off last time you put foot in ma bakery."
Tommy didn't believe him. He knew his sister was hiding something from him in London. That was why she was there all the time. But if his suspicions were true, and she was indeed spending time with the Jewish gangster, his old sparring partner better be sure to help him find her.
"If you happen to see her in London, tell her that I need her to come home immediately" he let him know in a strained voice before he hung up the telephone.
-
It was the two days later when Alfie made the decision to tell her about her brother's call. He had been hesitant at first. Why did her brother know about them? Had she told him? If she had, it wouldn't have bother him but he appreciated honesty, especially from the woman he shared a bed with.
"Treacle" he finally spoke up while clearing his throat, "there was someone on the telephone for you two days ago."
She looked up from the morning paper, slowly chewing on her toast some more as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"And?" she asked impatiently when Alfie didn't continue to speak.
He let out a heavy sight before speaking on.
"'t was your brother. He said you should come home immediately."
The paper made a slight crackling sound as she put it down with force, standing up with her hands pressed onto the table. If looks could kill, Alfie would've dropped dead on the spot. But he kept his calm. He knew she would be angry at him but he had his reasons to hold back this information. The more he had thought about it, the more possible it had seemed that this was Tommy bluffing. Maybe he didn't know about them after all, he was just testing the water, hoping an emergency call like that would give him the proof he was looking for - and a reason to punish her for sharing the bed with someone who once tried to fuck him over. His kid sister was the apple of Tommy's eye so Alfie didn't think he could be that cruel to her, but maybe that was the reason it had hurt him even more when he found out - or rather started to suspect - that she was indeed fucking his former enemy.
“And you didn't think about telling me earlier? Like, right away maybe, Alfred?”
Full name base was never a good sign but Alfie had known what to expect when he would finally break the news to her.
“We don't know what he wants. Maybe t’was a test. You know how he is. I tried to protect ya from him finding out.”
She dropped her head and closed her eyes for a second before pushing herself off the table and rushing towards the door.
“Tell your men to get my car ready, I'm packing.”
Alfie sighed but knew better than to talk back when she was this angry at him. She didn't have time for any discussion with him now but he could be sure to hear a few words about this from her once she was back from Birmingham.
-
As she entered the ridiculously huge mansion, John was storming through the hall, not even giving her one glance of attention. His face was red and he looked like he was ready to kill someone.
"John, what-" she tried to reason with her brother, turning around trying to make him stop in his furious tracks.
"NOT NOW!"
Shortly after him came Arthur, not looking any more cheerful. When she faced him with a questioning look, he slightly shook his head before embracing her in a short hug.
"I'll go after John but you need to talk to Tommy. He's in his office."
First Tommy's crude message he gave to Alfie, now this weird behaviour from her brothers. What the hell had happened here?
She took a few more steps into the house, crossing the grande staircase where Grace's oversized portrait greeted her, making her cringe. When she reached the door to Tommy's office, she gave it a quick knock before entering without being invited to.
"You better have a good reason to have such an anxiety-inducing message delivered to me."
Tommy stood in front of his window, not even flinching when he heard the rather annoyed tone of voice. Silence fell upon them. Half a minute passed, then a whole. She took a few steps towards him until she had reached his desk. It was only now, that she saw a pattern. He was dressed in a black suit, so had been John and Arthur when she saw them mere minutes ago. Suits were nothing special to them, but all black was a rare occasion, thankfully.
"Tommy... What happened?"
She crossed the distance between them and put her hand on his shoulder carefully, but still making him flinch. The few seconds they stood there like that felt like an eternity to her as she thought about all the people she hadn't seen yet, and John's anger. Was it Esme? Polly? One of the kids? Tommy clenched his jaw before he finally started to speak to the curtains
"Grace is dead."
#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons#tom hardy#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#alfie solomons x ofc#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons imagine#peaky blinders fanfic
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Homewrecker - MV1 Part Seven
Summary: “these are for you.”
Warnings: simp max
Pairings: max verstappen x oc
Word Count: 2.5k
Taglist: @ravenqueen27, @octaviareina, @formula1mount, @evans-dejong, @ditttiii, @vita-di-moda, @imheretoread, @alwaysclassyeagle, @luxfrances, @tall-tanned-tattoo
PART SIX
“He definitely heard you call it a date.” Carmen spoke through the phone as Blake cleaned up her mess around Lewis’ condo before he came back home. She wanted to leave it in better condition from when she arrived. It had been one week since Max had taken her to his secret spot and the two had been inseparable, up until this moment. She loved being in his company, getting to know him beyond being the dick that she was convinced hated her, beyond Kelly and beyond being a World Champion race car driver. He had so many quirks and tidbits about him that Blake found herself admiring, thinking about when she was all alone.
“No, no. It definitely slipped out but he didn’t say anything about it.” Carmen scoffed through the phone and Blake could just picture her best female friend rolling her eyes playfully. Of course she never saw Max’s reaction when she let the word slip but she can’t imagine he was paying that much attention to her, or she gathered he was just assuming she meant a friendly date, she did mean that right? “Besides, nothing will ever come of it. It’s like a twisted Romeo and Juliette. I work for his biggest rival team an-”
“And what, Blake?” Carmen questioned making Blake take a quick break from her frantic cleaning and listen to what she had to say. “What could be the worst thing that could happen? You already have fan pages you know. Do you like Max?” Blake didn’t find herself searching for an answer, she already knew. She obviously knew where Max stood with his feelings and he was very respectful with giving Blake all the time and space she needed before anything would ever eventuate but Blake was certain there was some attraction there. Okay, maybe a bit more than some, more like a lot.
“But what will the boys think? What will Toto think?” The boys were referring to Lewis and George, Max’s biggest rivals. She was also afraid that if she was to engage in anything with Max that it might jeopardise her career though everyone knew she was a vital part of the Mercedes team.
“They can all learn to deal with it if they truly value you. Besides, they would all want you to be happy, no matter who the other person was.” Blake found herself strolling onto the balcony where she sat down on a chair, looking out over the sea. Boats and yachts were coming in and out of the port and she could only imagine what that would be like, to sail away and enjoy the sun warming her skin. She was heading back to her home in England the following day, all of her bags already packed. She would have to get a bus to Nice in France and then a flight from Nice to London. From there she would pick up her car from the airport and drive to Brackley where she had her apartment, only a few minutes from the Formula One base. It would be a long day of travel, that's for sure. “Hey babes, it’ll all work out. Do whatever feels right.”
“I will, thank you. Listen, I have to go, I have to finish cleaning the house for Lewis before I head home tomorrow.”
“Let me know if anything changes, I’m always here.” The two girls bid their farewell, Carmen hanging up after sending kissing sounds through the phone leaving Blake to giggle at her friend. She was left to her lonesome now in Lewis’ condo. She knew she could easily message Max now that they had each other's phone numbers but she also needed time to sort of process her own feelings, figure out where her head was at.
The past few days had been amazing; Max showed her his favourite places in Monaco and surrounding, took her out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, invited her over to his condo to watch a movie or a TV show or have a cocktail night where they could dress in their pyjamas. He was extremely respectful, working on getting to know Blake whilst she enjoyed her time one-on-one with him.
Max had reached for his phone a number of times before finally deciding against it. He knew that Blake was leaving the next day and wanted to give her some space so she could relax a little before but it took every ounce of his being not to just send her one simple message. He knew that the time they spent together for the past few days would probably be the most amount of time they will spend together one-on-one for a long time as they start the prep for the new racing season but he just felt so mellow and himself around her.
He still received communication from Kelly every now and then asking for him to take her back or trying to guilt him by using Penelope as a pawn which made Max feel quite disgusted but he was strong. He is in love with Blake, and nothing and no one would ever change his mind.
* * *
Blake made it through security with ease which was a relief given the fact that she had a restless sleep the night before. There was just something that was keeping her up which was annoying as she spent most of the day prior cleaning Lewis’ house and making him a vegan slice for him to come home to. The drive from Monaco to Nice was dark, reminding her of when Max drove her an hour away to show her a sunrise like no other, but it was peaceful. The shuttle to the airport had several other tourists; a trio of young girls most likely on a gap year, an older couple with the man sleeping on his wife’s shoulder and a small family. Her flight wasn’t for another few hours so she had time to get a coffee and relax at her gate before it was time to leave.
She had her carry-on bag over her shoulder, her earphones in and a double shot coffee in her hand as she strolled through duty-free and back to her gate. Blake was recognised by some Formula One fans and happily waved, said a brief hello or even took a photo with them but she was beating herself up about not wearing something a little bit more fashionable. She would choose comfort over fashion any day of the week. It’s not that she looked terrible but she didn’t want to look at tagged photos of her wearing baggy sweatpants that were tighter around her thighs and waist than her calves or see her shirt bunched up at the back but appear oversized from the front. She was highly insecure about it but was working on trying to not let it get to her.
As one song changed into another she heard a slight fuss but chose to ignore it. She was itching to get to her gate so she could sit down, get her book out of her bag and just read until it was time to board her flight. The airport was starting to become busy as time wore on, Blake settled into a chair in the middle of her area at the gate and watched fondly as travellers passed her by. She liked to create different stories for them such as where they were going, why they were travelling and so forth.
Blake was interrupted by a shadow casting over her as a stranger moved closer, gesturing to the seats near her. She briefly looked up at the man, noticing his cap and face mask and nodded whilst her music continued to play, assuming he was going to take the seat a couple down from her even though there was ample space at her gate. Instead, he sat down in the seat beside her, nodding at her before looking forward, toying with something in a backpack that was placed beside him on another seat to the right of him. Blake was caught off guard, feeling slightly uncomfortable yet didn’t make a big deal out of it as she didn’t want any sort of drama.
She was about to get her phone out of her pocket to get ready to message someone to make it look like she was busy or had people waiting for her incase worse comes to worse and this man had ill intentions. Instead, the man pulled out two flowers and sat them in his lap; a sunflower and a rose, both fake for the sake of security. Blake watched from her peripheral vision and felt her heart start to race.
Max’s hands were clammy as he held the two fake flowers in his lap, his cap hiding his gaze and his face mask shielding most of his face. He couldn’t let Blake fly back to England without him getting a chance to say goodbye and honestly he wasn’t too sure what he would say if everything was going to go to plan. It was immensely cliche and he knew that Checo would probably tease him about it, or anyone would tease him about it when word eventually got out about his romantic gesture but here he was.
Blake found herself taking her earphones out and placing them carefully in her case before turning to the man beside her.
“If this is some sick jok-”
“It’s me.” The voice was familiar. It calmed Blake as soon as she heard his accent. He gained some attention as he removed his hat and face mask revealing Max underneath. He had a nervous look on his face but Blake felt herself sigh with relief. At least now she knew it wasn’t some strange man that had been stalking her.
“What are you doing here?” They weren’t yet at the point of wishing each other good mornings or good nights every day but the two would easily fall into a conversation via text or social media every day. As far as Blake was concerned, Max should still be in bed, lapping up all the free time he had before he was to start his training regime and then start to focus on the upcoming season. He most definitely shouldn’t be here in an airport with Blake and he most definitely should not be seeing Blake when she wasn’t as put together as she would have liked. “It’s barely even six in the morning.”
She noticed that some people were beginning to notice that Max Verstappen was sitting at an airport gate with the general public but he paid them no mind and everyone else seemed to understand that he was busy right now. That and it was early in the morning. Blake was no stranger to early mornings, or lack of sleep, so this was rather normal for her. Of course she was tired hence the coffee but she was functioning.
“I couldn’t let you go back home without saying goodbye.” Max cringed at the fact that he sounded so dramatic but Blake’s heart just pounded in her chest.
“You have my phone number and all my socials.” Blake chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and leaned against her arm rest towards Max. Max noticed this and remembered seeing something online that if someone’s body faced you during a conversation or in general that it meant they were focused on you, you had their attention. He was suddenly nervous. She was right, he did have many ways to contact her but in all honesty he just had to see her in person before the two of them both got extremely busy.
“I know but,” Max began to trail off, thinking of what to say. He had practised in his bedroom that morning, whilst making the booking for the same flight. He added different emphases on words on his drive to the airport, bought two fake flowers impulsively after posing for several photos once he got out of security and bought a brand new hat and face mask to surprise Blake. And now he sat beside her at a loss for words. “These are for you.” He held out the sunflower and rose and hoped she wouldn’t notice how clammy his hands were when she took them. “They're fake, as you can tell.” He mentally slapped himself in the face, of course she could tell. “I don’t think you can take real flowers on a flight but they last longer. God, that makes me sound like a wanker.” Max’s face was flushed red as Blake giggled, the flowers pinched between two fingers as she touched her forehead to his bicep with a grin on her face. At least he was making her laugh.
“You’re absolutely right, you cannot take flowers on public. I cannot comment on private flights though. I would say you're the expert in that.” Blake went back to her normal position before looking back to Max. Max seemed to ease a little more as she spoke and he felt less guilty about not knowing more about flying publicly. “What I really mean is what are you doing here? Past security and everything.”
“I have never felt more at ease or at home than I had this past week. And before you say anything I know you want to start off as friends and I am absolutely okay with that I really am. Plus, I have never been to Brackley before.” Blake’s eyes softened as she looked up at Max, the man turning his head to return her gaze. Brackley was where her apartment was located and where the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 based was. She was surprised Max had remembered where her new home was. Though, it was hardly a home as she had only spent no more than two months staying in it since she started her new job with Mercedes and Toto. “I know I should have mentioned something. It was all rather last minute and I thought it would be a movie like romantic gesture but I really should have asked if it was okay with you.”
“Max, it’s okay.” Blake placed an arm on his bicep as a form of comfort. “I just wish you told me so I could help you navigate through security and everything. I bet you haven't done that in a long time, you know, since you have a private jet.” She teased Max, chuckling before rolling his eyes. “Just one thing.”
“Yes, of course. Anything.” Blake thought back to her conversation with Carmen on the phone the day previous. She thought about everything that had happened in the past year from fights and assumptions that Max hated her and working with Kelly to the confession, a new job and relocation, new friends that were a found family. He patiently awaited her answer, the one thing she was asking of him. He would do anything in a heartbeat.
“Take me on a date. A date date.” That he can do.
#max verstappen smut#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen#max verstappen oc#max verstappen x oc#formula one smut#formula one#formula one imagine#formula one oc#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfic#formula 1 smut#formula 1 imagine#f1 x oc#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1
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Alright my friends, it's time to choose the book for February! Our theme for the month: Romance! I'm not original. However, the bar for romance was skimming the floor and so we have a wide variety of titles to choose from! If you'd like to join the book club, send me a message and I'll send you the link to our Discord! The summaries for the titles are under the cut!
Jane Steele by Lyndsay Faye
Reader, I murdered him.
A Gothic retelling of Jane Eyre.
Like the heroine of the novel she adores, Jane Steele suffers cruelly at the hands of her aunt and schoolmaster. And like Jane Eyre, they call her wicked - but in her case, she fears the accusation is true. When she flees, she leaves behind the corpses of her tormentors.
A fugitive navigating London's underbelly, Jane rights wrongs on behalf of the have-nots whilst avoiding the noose. Until an advertisement catches her eye. Her aunt has died and the new master at Highgate House, Mr Thornfield, seeks a governess. Anxious to know if she is Highgate's true heir, Jane takes the position and is soon caught up in the household's strange spell. When she falls in love with the mysterious Charles Thornfield, she faces a terrible dilemma: can she possess him - body, soul and secrets - and what if he discovers her murderous past?
Carry On by Rainbow Rowell
Simon Snow is the worst Chosen One who's ever been chosen.
That's what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he's probably right.
Half the time, Simon can't even make his wand work, and the other half, he starts something on fire. His mentor's avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there's a magic-eating monster running around, wearing Simon's face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here — it's their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon's infuriating nemesis didn't even bother to show up.
Carry On - The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow is a ghost story, a love story and a mystery. It has just as much kissing and talking as you'd expect from a Rainbow Rowell story - but far, far more monsters.
Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones
Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl's castle. To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there's far more to Howl—and herself—than first meets the eye.
Forget Me Not by Alyson Derrick
A romantic ode to the strength of love and the power of choosing each other, against odds and obstacles, again and again.
What would you do if you forgot the love of your life ever even existed?
Stevie and Nora had a love. A secret, epic, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. They also had a plan: to leave their small, ultra-conservative town and families behind after graduation and move to California, where they could finally stop hiding that love.
But then Stevie has a terrible fall. And when she comes to, she can remember nothing of the last two years—not California, not coming to terms with her sexuality, not even Nora. Suddenly, Stevie finds herself in a life she doesn’t quite understand, one where she’s estranged from her parents, drifting away from her friends, lying about the hours she works, dating a boy she can’t remember crushing on, and headed towards a future that isn’t at all what her fifteen-year-old self would have envisioned.
And Nora finds herself…forgotten. Can the two beat the odds a second time and find their way back together when “together” itself is just a lost memory?
Caught in a Bad Fauxmance by Elle Gonzalez Rose
A fresh, fun contemporary rom-com from debut author Elle Gonzalez Rose, about an aspiring artist who agrees to fake date one of his family’s longtime enemies in the hopes of gathering intel good enough to take down their rivals once and for all.
Devin Baez is ready for a relaxing winter break at Lake Andreas. That is, until he runs into his obnoxious next-door neighbors the Seo-Cookes, undefeated champions of the lake’s annual Winter Games. In the hope of finally taking down these long-time rivals, the Baezes offer up their beloved cabin in a bet. Reckless? Definitely.
So when annoyingly handsome Julian Seo-Cooke finds himself in need of a fake boyfriend, Devin sees an opportunity to get behind enemy lines and prove the family plays dirty.
As long as Devin and Julian’s families are at war, there’s only room for loathing between them. Which is a problem because, for Devin, this faux game of love is feeling very real.
Eyes Like Stars by Lisa Mantchev
All her world's a stage.
Bertie Shakespeare Smith is not an actress, yet she lives in a theater.
She's not an orphan, but she has no parents.
She knows every part, but she has no lines of her own.
That is, until now.
Enter Stage Right
NATE. Dashing pirate. Will do anything to protect Bertie.
COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED, and PEASEBLOSSOM. Four tiny and incredibly annoying fairies. BERTIE'S sidekicks.
ARIEL. Seductive air spirit and Bertie's weakness. The symbol of impending doom.
BERTIE. Our heroine.
Welcome to the Théâtre Illuminata, where the actors of every play ever written can be found behind the curtain. They were born to play their parts, and are bound to the Théâtre by The Book, an ancient and magical tome of scripts. Bertie is not one of them, but they are her family, and she is about to lose them all and the only home she has ever known.
Lisa Mantchev has written a debut novel that is dramatic, romantic, and witty, with an irresistible and irreverent cast of characters who are sure to enchant the audience. Open Curtain
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Today’s Bridgerton season 3 speculation (during this ridiculously long & torturous wait) is the following since the show loves to torture us by placing obstacles between the main couple, I could see the Polin love storyline going something like this…
Colin returns to London with a new look, super vain and eccentric after his most recent travels, he’s oozing confidence and every eligible lady in London is dying for his attention because he’s not swearing off women anymore and they all want to land a Bridgerton.
Penelope has not spoken to Eloise in months and her former best friend has begun to humor Cressida Cowper at parties, even snickering at her mean spirited jabs at Penelope. Pen however is determined to avoid Colin and Eloise this season. She’s changed her look after Lady Danbury kindly suggested she work with her modiste to avoid popular dress styles in favor of styles that accent her figure because she liked Penelope. But Penelope has been a wallflower for so long she has a hard time finding her confidence and when Lady Danbury overhears Cressida loudly reminding a group of people that Colin Bridgerton announced how he’d never court Penelope Featherington to be cruel and humiliate Pen, the countess makes it a point to tell Colin he’s to blame for the humiliation Miss Featherington is enduring.
The ton is abuzz about Lady Tilly Arnold and how beautiful and kind she is. The young widow isn’t the diamond, because she’s been married but, she’s highly sought after by several lustful men interested in making her their mistress. Colin once again gets caught up by the frenzy of competition with other men for her favor, similar to how he blindly went after Marina. Only this time he makes it clear that he is a gentleman and not looking for a mistress, announcing to his mother and family that he intends to marry Tilly. Violet is upfront that she believes Tilly and Colin would not be a good match, she thinks he should court Penelope Featherington because she’s a lovely person and their friendship would make an exceptional foundation for a happy marriage. Colin is adamant that he will never marry Penelope. Eloise insists that she would not want Penelope for a sister but refuses to explain why they have ended their friendship and storms off. Violet makes it clear that she doesn’t think Colin should marry Tilly.
Colin realizes that his comments at Featherington ball not only hurt Penelope‘s feelings, they have also made it much harder for her to feel confident while she navigates the ton this season as she tried to find a husband, and since he genuinely misses his friend, he decides to help Pen. He’s encouraging to her and introduces her to some nice gentlemen he knows who are looking for wives. Penelope’s new look and confident behavior attracts some suitors but Colin is protective of her and deters the least desirable men. He frequently calls on Penelope and consistently dances with her at balls and parties but makes it a point to favor Tilly. When Pen leaves a ball in a non-Featherington carriage, Colin follows her worried that she’ll allow herself to be ruined to ensure she snags a husband and that it would be his fault. This is when he discovers she’s Whistledown and confronts her, he’s stunned and unsure if he can trust her but after a highly improper and open conversation, he confesses his own scandalous secret to her, telling her he knows she is better than the worst things she’s ever done. He also thanks her for being kind to Lady Tilly in her Whistledown column and Penelope assured him she’s been kind because Tilly is a kind and good person and she understands why he’s pursuing her. After that they are less formal with each other and their friendship has undeniably deepened. Polin are each others confidants and have become a team of sorts. Colin convinces Penelope to stop writing Whistledown before she’s discovered.
Colin starts calling on Penelope more and more often, so frequently that Lady Featherington starts leaving them unchaperoned, convinced he has nothing but brotherly affection for her daughter. Penelope still prefers Colin to any other man but knows she must stay focused on her suitors and find a husband because Colin wants to marry Tilly. But one afternoon when they were left alone, Colin kisses Penelope. The kiss is intense and heated but Penelope stops things because she’s sure Colin is just being an opportunistic man who would leap on any woman he was alone with. Penelope tells him he’s virtually engaged to Tilly and that he shouldn’t be kissing another woman. He apologizes but makes it clear that he wasn’t being opportunistic, he just couldn’t help himself because he finds her so beautiful and he feels there is passion between them. Penelope insists that she would never trap him so he has to stop because if her mother caught them kissing he would be forced to marry her which would ruin both their lives.
Penelope tries to put some distance between her and Colin to focus on her latest suitor who she’s become certain is about to propose but then her suitor is caught in a compromising situation with Lady Arnold and he and Tilly become betrothed. Colin is convinced Tilly and her new fiancé must be in love because Tilly is a proper lady and would not allow herself to be forced into a marriage. And since he has not been able to stop thinking of his kiss with Penelope, he proposes that they marry. Penelope is adamant that marrying for lust would be a bad idea and she wants to be someone’s first choice, not just the woman her friend settled for to save face when the woman he really wanted has chosen someone else.
Colin is not willing to take no for an answer so he forces Penelope’s hand by telling her mother that he kissed her. The ton is buzzing that Penelope trapped Colin because nobody is willing to believe he chose her after announcing he never wanted her and how publicly he courted Lady Tilly Arnold. The rumors are cruel with people speculating that Penelope must be pregnant for Colin to marry her. Colin notices that Eloise says nothing to stop Cressida’s lies and gossip and he tells her she should be ashamed of herself for standing by while her oldest friend is mocked and disrespected and insists that will have to change since Penelope is going to be her sister. With his mother’s help, Colin makes a spectacle of their wedding to silence the ton by making it clear that he chose Penelope and she did not trap him. They marry quickly and give in to their mutual lust for each other, finding that they are blissfully happy together until Tilly and her new husband return later in the season and Colin draws attention to himself by defaulting to spending time in Tilly’s company at a ball, causing scandal and bringing on more cruel comments from Cressida towards Penelope. This time however Eloise checks Cressida and accuses her of being jealous of Penelope because she’s worthy of the Bridgerton name while Cressida will never be considered anything but a bitch to the Bridgerton family.
Penelope is humiliated but manages to save face before fleeing the ball. Violet tries to comfort her and later tells Colin he’s a fool for his poor treatment of his wife. Even Eloise is disgusted with Colin who was of course oblivious because he thought he was just being friendly to Tilly and her new husband who was an old friend of Colin’s from school. When Colin tries to speak to Penelope she can’t hide her heartbreak. She pleads with Colin to try harder to respect his wife enough not to make such a spectacle of his obvious love for another woman in front of the ton. She devastates him by insisting that he should pretend to favor his own wife in public so Pen would not constantly be reminded that she allowed him to steal her chance to marry someone who would have chosen her first and could have actually loved her. She lets slip that Colin’s heart was as wasted on Marina and Tilly as her own heart has been wasted on him. She turns to leave after saying that for her love is nothing but a curse.
Seeing how deeply he’d hurt Penelope and how sure she was that he not only loved another woman, but that he always would and that he didn’t even deem her worthy of his love is like a knife in Colin’s heart. She was so sure that he would ever put her first, but none of that was true and he had to tell her. Colin tells Penelope he was only being kind to Tilly and her husband upon their return to town. And that yes, he once thought he loved Marina & Tilly, but he knows now that he didn’t. He explains to Pen that he liked them and he intended to marry them but he didn’t know what love was then. Colin confesses that he only knows what love is because of Penelope. Because she knows and understands him, that she sees past the facade of the perfect gentleman to the imperfect man he truly is. That he’s been a fool in the past but could never forgive himself if he didn’t make it clear that she’s the love of his life. That he belongs to her, body and soul. That his love for her didn’t stem from some stupid competition with other men. It started with friendship and grew with her every smile and witty comment, and the fire he felt when she was in his arms as they danced. He tells her that she’s the most beautiful and intelligent woman he’s ever known and that he feels pulled towards her every time they’re in a room together. That’s why he kissed her that first time only he hadn’t know it then but what he wants most in the world is to be the man worthy of her hand and her heart. That he doesn’t give a damn about the ton or society, titles or gossip, Marina or Tilly… he only cares about spending his life with his Penelope. His friend, his true love, his wife.
Epilogue: Penelope and Colin waking up together while traveling, a package has arrived and Penelope surprises her beloved husband with a keepsake she had made for him. Colin’s had allowed his wife to read his travel journals for a fuller understanding of his travels and she edited them into a travel book and had it elegantly bound in leather with an inscription to the love of her life and father to the lucky babe growing in her belly. And Colin couldn’t keep the tears from his eyes. Penelope was the source of everything good in his life. She’d given him her heart, and her hand and now she had given him his life’s purpose, caring for their growing family.
#quotergirl mini fic#bridgerton#polin#Penelope Featherington#Colin Bridgerton#penelope x colin#colin x penelope#friends to lovers#Bridgerton season 3 speculation#bridgerton season 3
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nandorisms said: I don't think it was ever going to work in the first place. Freddie was a bandaid. A last-ditch effort at trying to have a normal life outside of Nandor and his clusterfuck of a found family. But he isn't normal and hasn't been for years. Freddie was Guillermo trying to convince himself that he could move on, and Marwa was Nandor's effort to convince Guillermo to stay.
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tbh, I agree.
I think that Freddie very much was an "I don't need them, I don't need any of them" solution for Guillermo while he was in London.
Like... Guillermo was at his most loyal in s3. Like distressingly loyal sometimes. And what did that get him? At his absolute highest moment of happiness, he's shoved in a fucking box and mailed across the ocean. No one comes to save him, no one is there to comfort him. He has a moment in that box where he truly fears death, and he is despondent. He realizes that he has dedicated his entire life to people who (he believes) would not do the same for him, and he has in the process alienated his family and all the other humans who might have loved him.
Then he does live but he is utterly alone. He's away from the house and the very meager support system he'd created for himself, Nandor does not come for him, and Nadja seems to have largely abandoned him to his own devices while she did Council stuff.
So he's alone for the first time in his life, both physically and emotionally, and he meets this guy. And this guy talks to him and says nice things to him and doesn't actively abuse him, which puts him miles above most people he knows. So Freddie becomes really, really easy for Guillermo to romanticize. He's another option to the insanity his life has become, and one that is at that moment very attractive.
I think at that point, Freddie really comes to symbolize all the things Guillermo can have if he chooses to be human. This is a human man who thinks that Guillermo is normal and likes the "normal" version of Guillermo. Guillermo can go on daytime dates with this guy. He doesn't have to worry about being killed when he goes out with him. Freddie treats him like a normal human would -- which doesn't quite have the highs that Guillermo has come to expect, but not the lows, either.
Freddie is a guy that Guillermo could bring home to his family, which is another thing that Guillermo is strongly prioritizing in s4 after his experience in London. Which is one reason why it's so fascinating that even after he successfully came out to his family, it doesn't appear that he ever told them about Freddie. Was he just waiting for the right time? Or was there something subconsciously holding him back...
Because the thing is... when Guillermo finally makes it back to Staten Island, he realizes he was wrong. Nandor never meant to abandon him; if anything, Nandor believes that Guillermo abandoned him. Nandor immediately offers him this place of honor at his side, and it's something new. It's not professional and it's not romantic and Guillermo allows himself to throw himself into it because it doesn't upset the very delicate balancing act he currently has in his head.
And then... the others follow suit. Baby Colin comes to love his caretakers, and Guillermo clearly cares about him back. His sniping with Laszlo eventually calms down to a place of mutual respect, as far as childrearing goes. Nadja finally comes to trust him enough to help her manage the club (a bad choice, considering they are very similar in all the worst ways) and they have that really lovely bonding moment over family.
Guillermo, in other words, is being presented with a third option. Not the dismissive vampires from before and not the allure of normalcy, but a vampiric world in which he is ultimately respected, if not completely accepted as one of their own.
But Guillermo is loyal to a fault and he couldn't give up this fantasy of what Freddie could be to him -- someone who loved him, someone who he could be normal with, someone he wouldn't have to sacrifice his family for, someone who would finally, finally put him first. Until it becomes painfully obvious that Freddie would never be that person and Guillermo was only ever romanticizing a relationship just as toxic as all the ones he'd had previously.
And I think that that point Guillermo really had to come to terms with what he wanted and what he was capable of. I do really wish that the show had followed that character arc a little closer (Guillermo realizing that his human parts and his supernatural parts were at odds with each other and he was going to have to make some hard choices) but I think you can see that in his final choice.
Guillermo, to put a long story short, chooses a fourth option. He's given up on Freddie handing him his happiness and he's given up on Nandor handing him his happiness. He's finally chosen to throw himself bodily into the world of vampirism, giving up on his human potential and demanding full vampiric acceptance, and he's going to make that life himself.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We'll see if it works.
And god, Marwa is a whole different post. I have a lot of thoughts about the way that Nandor thinks of his wives (and Guillermo, to a lesser extent) as extensions of himself, his to control, possess, and manipulate -- but how the thing that he's really most attracted to is rebellion and the ability to think for oneself. And how that also tied in with how he saw Freddie as an extension of Guillermo and therefore something that he needed to possess as well.
lmao they're both so bad at this.
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