#Do I need to host all of them somewhere else now?

[stargazing-enby]

All my memefic images are gone from AO3 😭😭😭😭😭

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Would you be willing to do Slytherin boys x shy!reader?? If you can, thank yoiuu!!

Yes! Love shy reader with our boys!

Draco Malfoy

I don't think he cares if you're quiet or loud. He just likes you.

Doesn't try to push you into situations you're not comfortable with. Other than maybe something his family is hosting. He is practically pleading for you to go so he isn't lonely.

The type to order for you and talk to workers for you if you feel too shy to do it.

BUT will also tease you with it by saying "My wife wants x." when you guys are still just dating. He thinks it's funny when you get flustered, but won't overdo it.

Will def tease you in private too. If you get shy and blushy about something he does, like taking off his shirt, he's gonna keep doing it.

Tom Riddle

I think he prefers someone quiet and shy. Likes to be able to be with just you and doesn't have to worry about you talking to someone else when you two are out together.

Also wouldn't push you into situations you aren't comfortable with.

I don't think he'd order for you tbh, but will stand up for you. Someone talking shit about you, well...we know how that goes for them.

Wouldn't tease you intentionally, but might do something that makes you flustered and he finds it amusing, but isn't going out of his way to do it.

Would definitely love having private little date nights with you instead of going out somewhere in public where you might feel overwhelmed.

Mattheo Riddle

I covered him in another headcanon BUT

Loves shy girls. He looooooves making them flustered.

Will encourage you to get out of your comfort zone, but isn't gonna force it. He wants you to be happy, but he also thinks some things would be fun with you.

Will order for you and talk to workers for you like Draco. Will also stand up for you. Likes I said in the other one, he's showing up to your dorm covered in blood and a sweet smile.

ABSOLUTELY will tease the shit out of you. He's the worst. Doesn't matter if it's in public or private. Will whisper nasty things to you in public to see you blush. Getting super physical with you in private to make you flustered, like constantly touching you, will strip too, claiming it's for his comfort.

So overprotective of you though, he won't let anyone else tease you.

Blaise Zabini

I feel he prefers someone more extroverted, but does enjoy the power he gets when he makes you all shy.

I feel like he'd have you talk to workers and all that, just so he can see you all flustered. But he will take over if it gets too much for you.

Will also encourage you to get out of your comfort zone, partially for his amusement, but also because he wants you to get more comfortable with things. He can't be there 24/7 to protect you.

Will stand up for you too, but he won't be violent about it. I think worst he'd do is hex them or pull a really nasty prank on them.

Also loves teasing the shit out of you. Shy of PDA? That sucks. He's gonna kiss you and have his hand on your thigh or an arm around your waist. Would definitely point it out too, but only in private.

"No need to be shy around me, ma." "It's just us."

Lorenzo Berkshire

Doesn't care about you being shy or extroverted.

Sweet, sweet, sweet boy. Talking to workers, ordering your food, standing up for you, even telling his friends off if they go too far with you.

I do see him getting into a physical fight with someone too over this. A lot of people think he's too sweet, mans is not afraid to fight, especially when it comes to you.

Does encourage you out of your comfort zone every now and again, but overall doesn't push you.

Would only tease you in private. He doesn't want others getting the idea that they can tease you, so he'll keep it private. Minus a few cheeky comments or sly touches when no one's looking.

Theodore Nott

I do feel like he'd prefer someone more extroverted, but, like Blaise, loves how easy it is to get you flustered.

Will stand up for you, even to his friends, BUT refuses to order for you or talk to workers. He wants you to get comfortable doing it yourself.

Will definitely try pushing you out of your comfort zone. He'll be there to comfort and ease you the whole time, but he does want you to do more things you're not used to or comfortable with.

Absolutely teasing you in public. He's not even sorry. Shameless PDA with you, wants to see you blush and stutter.

Will let his friends tease you two, but not just you. Like, let them gag about the PDA and your blush, but if they laugh at you doing something embarrassing, he's MAD.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[p0orbaby]

All This Money, Darling, What Else Is Left to Do?

summary: you’ve moved to barca for work, you meet alexia

warnings: SMUT 18+, strap use, bathroom sex, how original

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 1.1k

other parts found here

-

You’ve never been good with Spanish, which is unfortunate considering you’ve just moved to Barcelona to film a series that’s supposed to be your “dark, gritty” transition from Hollywood darling to Oscar-worthy actress. A role that will, in your words, “finally earn me that little golden bastard.” The director had only sighed in response, muttering something about Brits and their insatiable thirst for awards, before handing you a script written entirely in Spanish.

You’ve got all the superficial things down: tousled hair that looks like you just rolled out of bed in a sultry way (when in reality, it took your stylist an hour to perfect), designer sunglasses that scream “I’m too famous to be bothered,” and a wardrobe carefully curated to say, “I’m an artist, but I could still outdress you at a red carpet event.”

The language, though, remains your Everest.

Which is how you find yourself at a party hosted by some up-and-coming director who might actually be a waiter – it’s hard to tell when everyone here looks like they stepped out of an indie film. The only reason you’re here is because your agent insists you need to “immerse yourself in the culture.” Apparently, the key to embodying a brooding Spanish detective is to drink sangria and eat patatas bravas at a rooftop party with people who don’t recognise you. Or worse, pretend not to recognise you.

You’ve been nursing the same glass of wine for an hour, half-watching as a group of women discuss something with intense, dramatic flair. You’re only half-listening until one of them catches your eye.

You don’t know her name. Not yet. But you know she’s trouble from the way she moves. She’s all sharp edges and grace, the kind of woman who makes every hair on your body stand on end before you’ve even exchanged a word. When she looks at you, it’s like she already knows you – all of you – even the parts you try to keep hidden behind layers of well-crafted mystique.

You make a mental note to stay away from her. Which, naturally, means you’ll be making out in the bathroom with her within the hour.

And that’s exactly how it happens. One moment, you’re trying to figure out what the hell “Tarjeta amarilla” means, and the next, she’s pressed up against you, lips smashing into yours like she’s been waiting her entire life to taste you. It’s heady, intoxicating, the way she devours you like you’re something she plans to enjoy slowly – but not yet.

The bathroom is one of those annoyingly chic setups with a waterfall tap and hand towels that look like they should be in a palace. It’s also incredibly small, which is fine because she’s pressed up against you, and suddenly there’s no need for space.

You don’t know who makes the first move. It’s all a blur of hands and lips, and somewhere between her tongue tracing the line of your jaw and your fingers digging into her hips, you figure out you don’t actually care.

Her name’s Alexia. You learned that somewhere between her pushing you against the wall and slipping her hand under your bra. Alexia, whispered like a prayer. Or maybe it was a curse. She’s too good at this. Too good at the way she takes control, the way she knows exactly where to touch you to make you gasp, arch, and cling to her like she’s your lifeline.

And then she’s guiding you to the sink, bending you over like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It probably is for her – something about the way she holds you down with one massive hand and undoes her jeans with the other tells you this is far from her first time.

You glance up at the mirror, and there you are – tousled hair now a genuine mess, eyes blown wide, lips kiss-swollen and desperate. You look every bit the part of a woman who’s about to get absolutely wrecked.

Which is exactly what happens.

Alexia’s behind you, and then something cool and smooth is pressing against your entrance – a strap, because of course, she’d have one at the ready. You bite your lip, half to stifle a moan and half because you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of hearing you already coming undone. You’re an actress, after all, and the best performances are always the ones where you keep the audience guessing.

Not that it matters. The second she pushes in, you’re a mess, nails scraping against the sink’s surface as you try – and fail – to keep yourself together. She’s ruthless, setting a pace that leaves no room for pretense. It’s rough, raw, the kind of fucking that makes you forget your name and what you’re supposed to be doing here in Spain in the first place.

“Te gusta, ¿verdad?” she murmurs in your ear, voice low and teasing. And by her tone you just about make out she’s asked you a question.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp, any attempt at playing it cool flying out the window as she thrusts harder, deeper. The sound of skin against skin fills the small bathroom, along with your increasingly loud moans. There’s no point in being quiet now – everyone out there either knows what’s happening or will by the time she’s done with you.

It’s filthy, the way she fucks you – no pretense, no gentleness, just pure, unbridled lust. You’re half-certain you’ll have bruises tomorrow, and the thought only turns you on more.

“Mírate,” she breathes, voice laced with dark amusement. “Miss Hollywood, siendo follada como una vulgar zorra"

You whimper in response, because you don’t know what else to do. You don’t understand a word she’s saying. Yet you’re still reduced to nothing but pure pleasure, body trembling as she drives you closer and closer to the precipice.

And then she does something with her hips – some angle that has you seeing stars, and you’re gone, crying out her name as you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life. The kind of orgasm that leaves you breathless, boneless, clinging to the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

But she doesn’t stop. Not until you’re shaking, overstimulated and begging her to – not until she’s milked every last bit of pleasure from you, until you’re nothing but a panting, sweaty mess in her extremely toned arms.

When she finally pulls out, you collapse against the sink, legs barely holding you up. Alexia’s still behind you, hands sliding up your sides in a way that’s almost affectionate. Almost.

“That was…” You try to find words, but they’re lost somewhere between the haze of lust and the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Sí,” she agrees, smirking as she steps back, giving you just enough space to turn around and face her.

There’s something in her eyes, something that says she’s not done with you yet. And despite the fact that you should probably get back to the party, should probably straighten yourself up and pretend like you haven’t just been fucked within an inch of your life, you can’t bring yourself to care.

[ask-me-later23]

Can you write a little blurb about reader having a sleepy cuddly afternoon with Spencer?

Soft rays of light drifted through the curtains and across your face, a gentle reminder from the sun of its limited time with you. As much as you wanted to continue your adventures within your dreamscape, you were quickly stolen away, back to the real world. Back to the too small couch currently hosting you and your too tall boyfriend, Spencer. 

Afternoons like this were rare with him, he was always on call and even when he was home you both were typically too busy to spend an afternoon doing nothing. You both got the afternoon off and while you had said it would be just a few minutes of rest, those few minutes turned into a few hours, which had developed into the entire day.

Spencer was still asleep, you try not to move too much and wake him. His insomnia refuses to let him sleep for more than a few hours, so you know he needs what rest he can get.

This was also your favorite time to look at him, when he had his guard down and looked the most at peace. The beams that drew you from sleep now dance across his curls, making them shine a golden color that reminds you of honey. Freckles are sprinkled across his skin. You remember how you used to make a game of kissing each of them when you first got together. The memories bring a soft smile to your face as you listen to his snores. 

As if realizing he’s being watched, Spencer finally stirs. His eyes flitter open, revealing the rich, brown color that always reminded you of dark, vintage books. The corner of his lips tilt up into a smile and he pulls you in tighter. 

“Good afternoon sleepy,” you mumble as you nuzzle into his neck.

He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “Sleep well?”

“As well as I can having to listen to your loud ass snoring,” you tease, sitting up to check the time on your phone. 

Spencer rolls his eyes and rests his head back against the arm of the couch, stretching his arm across his face to cover the light. “45% of adult males snore on a regular basis, and it only gets worse with age. You should really get used to it.”

“Guess I’ll just have to go find somewhere else to sleep then.” You act like you’re going to stand up, only to have Spencer jump up from his resting position and drag you back down with him, his grasp unusually strong for a man of his stature. 

“Not gonna happen.” His grip holds firm as you attempt to wiggle away, giggling.

“We really should get up and be productive,” you murmur into his chest where he currently has your face stuck.

“Productivity is for tomorrow, today is for sleeping and comfort.”

While your mind tells you that his logic is faulty, you can’t ignore how his sweater smells strongly of books and laundry detergent, or how comforting that smell is. You also cannot ignore the circles he is currently rubbing on your back, just underneath your own sweater. So, instead of protesting, you nestle in closer and shut your eyes once more.

“Sleep it is.”

You both drift off to sleep again, locked in each other’s arms and isolated from the outside world. When you inevitably wake again and hear Spencer’s soft snores, all you can do is smile.

[calicoups]

human shield

encountering strangers at a house party can be nice, while other times it can be...not what you expect. not to worry! here comes your big boyfriend to save you.

info seungcheol x reader, comfort (i lowkey don't know how to categorise this), reader is smaller than cheol, unwanted attention from strangers, 1139 words. hani's note i'm back pookies 😝 i have some more in store for you all coming soon! anyways, i hope you enjoy this and pls interact with it by liking commenting/reblogging <3

music boomed throughout the place and you watched as your friends move to the current song playing with grins on their face, belting out lyrics every now and then.

it had been a while since you all had hung out with each other, each of you being held down with work and taking up extra shifts or tasks to help colleagues. you were more than relieved when your friends realised that their free time had finally aligned with the whole groups and suggested an activity to do together which is how you all ended up at a...house party?

okay, maybe a house party wasn't something you would have liked to spend precious time with your friends. originally, you had planned to do a few rounds at go-karting but the place had turned out to be closed on the day you all agreed for the hang out. bummed out and a little annoyed, seokmin had been quick to bring up a house party that would be hosted by his friend. most of your friends had perked up and said that it would be a little refreshing to attend the party, that it'll allow you all to relax after facing all the stress from your respective work lives.

so here you are, leaning against the wall with seungcheol on your right. the two of you had been dancing with the others for a while but soon became a little exhausted and moved to the side to catch your breaths.

from the corner of your eye, you see seungcheol turn to you, "i'm a little thirsty, are you?"

"oh, yeah. i really need a drink right now, would you mind?" you tilt your head and watch as he smiles at you.

seungcheol shakes his head and pinches your cheek, "i don't mind at all, baby. stay right here, okay? i'll be back."

he disappears into the crowd and your eyes linger there for a few seconds before flitting away to look for your friends. as expected, seokmin and soonyoung are still dancing, they stop to drag wonwoo into the mix who protests at first but joins in with a smile.

however, your view becomes obstructed as two men approach you, your smile dropping. it's a little intimidating but you're sure you can handle a little chat if that's what they want.

one of them speaks up, "hey, cutie. are you alone out here?" he gestures behind him with a thumb before continuing, "we can keep you company!"

from the way he started his conversation you can tell how he definitely does not want just a little chat so you decide not to entertain him or his friend, "no, thank you. my boyfriend is here with me."

but they laugh when you say that and look at each other sceptically, "boyfriend?" one of them asks, almost in disbelief. there's a smell of cigarettes and alcohol coming from them and it makes your nose scrunch up slightly.

his friend steps forward, "where is he? don't see him here..." he pretends to look around and it begins to irk you the way they're both acting.

"we can't leave a pretty lady alone. lets go have some fun," the other man reaches towards you and tucks some hair behind your ear. you jerk backwards at the unwanted action, feeling disgusted.

“we’ll make sure you have fun, pretty." you don't answer but he persists, "let us buy you a drink, then.”

“no thanks, my boyfriend's got that.” you spit and divert your attention somewhere else with crossed arms, feeling a little suffocated from so much attention from two strangers alone. you can tell they’re getting a little annoyed but know that they won’t give up.

“why are you being so difficult? just come with us and relax,” one of them says with faint scowl. frustrated, you stare at them with fiery eyes, "i said no. you may fuck off, now."

you notice one of his hand reaching towards your face but it never touches you, a tall figure steps in front of you and blocks his way, the woody scent wafting into your nose.

seungcheol.

realising that it’s none other than seungcheol just from his scent, comforting warmth and built figure, you relax and let out the breath you were unintentionally holding.

“heard you were looking for this lovely lady’s boyfriend!” seungcheol jests, voice steady and dominating as he hands his and your drinks to vernon beside him. completely shielded by your boyfriends frame, your hand clutches onto his shirt at the waist and a finger from the other hand hooks into his belt loop as you watch him intimidate them effortlessly.

one of the men scoffs, “that’s you? move buddy, she’s no match for yo—”

seungcheol cuts him off, “and you are? that’s a good joke, maybe you should be a comedian!” he chuckles falsely and pats one of them on their shoulder before his smile vanishes, “don't ever think about laying that dirty hand on my girl or any other that clearly says no, for that matter. now, unless you don't want to keep being able to use that hand, you better fuck off like she said."

the guy sends seungcheol a dirty look and drags his friend down the hallway. seungcheol watches closely until the both of them are out of his sight.

"fucking creep," seungcheol mumbles.

"hey, you good?" vernon questions softly, earning a nod of you as a response.

a warm hand rests on your upper arm, you look up to see that it belongs to seungcheol who peers down at you with a worried look on his face. your name falls from his lips effortlessly, "are you okay? they didn't try anything, did they? I'm so sorry i took so long, i should not have left you alone like that."

"it's okay, they didn't do anything. i'm the one who sent you to get us drinks," you reassure him, "don't apologise, cheol."

"i'm still sorry, doll. i should have taken you with me," he pulls you closer, your chests meeting as he hugs you gently.

"i told you, it's okay," you kiss his jaw for extra reassurance before taking your drink from vernon, "thanks nonie."

vernon smiles and pats your head, "i got you. also, have you seen the others? i'll have to take their drunk asses home today."

seungcheol takes his own drink from vernon's hand, watching you nod and point to where the others were still dancing. wonwoo catches you pointing and taps both soonyoung and seokmin before tugged them along over to the three of you.

"hi!" soonyoung shouts with a wave. you wince at his volume and slap a hand to his mouth to which he speaks muffled words into.

seokmin, in his own drunken state, shushes soonyoung with a finger to his lips, "shh, soonie. you have to be quiet, okay?"

"see what i mean?"

WOOHOOOO!! you made it to the end! please don't hesitate to leave me feedback in my ask box or to like, comment/reblog! thank you for reading <3

[tkwrites]

Meet Me At The Mistletoe - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Video from @fallinallincurls

Title: Meet Me at the Mistletoe

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: Based on the song of the same name by Dave Barnes, Quinn and Sarah prepare for and host a team Christmas Party, including shopping on a very special but inconvenient day. 

Warnings: Grief. Talk of dead parents and honoring traditions. Some sex is alluded to, but nothing described. A tiny bit of praise kink stroking. 

Word Count: 8,000

Comments: I'm back with my first ever Christmas fic! I’ve been waiting to write a song based on Meet Me at the Mistletoe by Dave Barnes since I first heard it three or four years ago. It has such a great story and evokes a specific feeling I felt like Quinn and Sarah were especially suited for. When Cici from @thedevilrisen reached out to me about joining a Christmas fic event called Ho Ho Hockey, I knew this had to be the story I wrote for it. 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. Sending all the love your way!

Meet Me at the Mistletoe 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Will you help me plan a Christmas party?” Quinn blurted, trying to catch his breath. 

“Hu?” Sarah asked, struggling to keep up with the abrupt change of subject.

 Upon getting home from work, she’d practically jumped him in the kitchen. They’d made it as far as the lucky couch before desire consumed them both. He’d been on a roadie for the past few days, and though he got back the evening before, she’d been asleep when he arrived, so they weren’t able to welcome each other home properly. 

Now, she lay beside him, wedged between the back of the couch - cushions had been tossed aside in their frenzy - and his body, feeling sated and satisfied as her head rested on his chest.

“I have to plan a Christmas party for the team,” he explained, knowing he couldn’t put it off anymore. Even though they still had a few months, he knew she would appreciate the advanced warning and that it would only make it easier if they started now.

“Why do you have to do it? I’d think that would be something the coaching staff would do.”

“It’s for players only. We have another one with coaches and staff. It's kind of tradition for the captain to plan it.”

Her lips pressed together, “I don’t know how much time I can dedicate to party planning in December. That’ll be right around finals.” She didn’t have as many traditional classes this semester, but there was still plenty to do. 

“That’s why I’m bringing it up now, and it doesn’t have to be huge,” he rushed to explain. “Last year, JT and Natalie just had people over for drinks, and we did a gift exchange.”

“You want to have it here?” 

“I thought it would be nice.” Now that Sarah was here, the apartment felt more homey and like the kind of place he wanted to show off. 

“So cocktails and gifts?” 

“Yeah, or whatever we want it to be. I think they had some food last year.”

“Okay,” she said. 

“So you can help me?” Quinn asked. 

“Yeah. I don’t know that I’ll have time to go to tastings or anything like that.”

“Tastings?” 

“For food?” 

He laughed, “I figured we’d just order from De Beppe and set up a cocktail bar.” 

“Oh,” it seemed like he didn’t even need her help. “That sounds nice and easy.”

His hand snuck down to cradle the curve of her bottom, “you know I don’t like to make things overly complicated.” 

“It’s just for adults?” she confirmed.

“It was last year,” he said. “Why? Do you want kids to come?”

She shrugged, “not necessarily. Just if they do, we’ll need to host it somewhere else. Our house isn’t really kid proofed.” 

When he didn’t respond, she glanced up to find him looking at her with a goofy smile on his face. 

“What?”

“You said our house.”

“Hu?” 

“You said our house,” he repeated. “Before you’ve always said your house,” he pointed to himself, “or the house.” 

“Oh.” 

Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her a little tighter against him, loving the feel of her soft curls as they crushed against his hip. “I’m just glad you’re feeling more at home.”

A pocket of calm silence enveloped them.

“We’ll need to decorate,” Sarah said after a few minutes. 

Quinn agreed. When he thought about hosting the party, the house was always decorated for Christmas, but he’d never thought about what it would take to get it into that state.

“We can figure that out later,” she murmured, laying her head back on his chest, allowing his steady heartbeat to lull her into the state of calm that always came over her when he was home.

They spent another hour there, snuggled up together, only moving when Quinn went fishing for a blanket and had to lean halfway off the couch to get it. 

They didn’t get up until Sarah’s stomach grumbled loudly. 

“Did you eat today?” Quinn asked, his tone accusing. 

“I had a smoothie for breakfast.”

“Sarah,” he admonished. She never ate as well when he wasn’t home. Not just in quality, in quantity.

“I know,” she said, looking down sheepishly. “I even had a salad in the fridge at work, I just got so caught up in stuff. I did eat a protein bar on my way home,” she remembered. 

Deciding he’d tackle the issue of her nutrition later, Quinn traced his fingers up the curve of her spine. “What should we have for dinner tonight?” he asked as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable exit from their cozy cocoon.

She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “I don’t care. Just feed me.”

He laughed. “You got it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Why don’t you go get changed, and I’ll scrounge up something for us to eat.” 

Are you free November 9th?

When Quinn sent this message, she didn’t think anything of it. They were both so busy that it was normal to schedule things three weeks in advance. 

Yep, what's up that day?

Just wanna take you on a date before the game.

The purposeful vagueness and his wanting to do something on a game day raised her eyebrows. Game days were usually reserved for napping and chill time at home before he had to go to the rink. 

Okay. It's in my calendar. 

He hearted the message, and Sarah went back to work. 

Pick you up at 11 out front, okay?

Though it was a Saturday, and she was off, Quinn knew Sarah would be working on her thesis and he needed to catch her before she got too absorbed by it, no longer concerned with looking at her phone.

For what?

We have a date, remember?

Oh, right. She’d mostly forgotten about the whole exchange, despite looking in her planner that morning and finding (heart) Date (heart) written in the sparkly blue ink she used to denote all things Quinn related.  

What should I wear?

Usually, when he called something a date, it meant dinner out, but this was the middle of the day, and she knew it wouldn’t last terribly long.

Whatever - jeans are fine.

Now, she was really intrigued. Okay. See you then. 

Wondering what on earth he had planned in the middle of the day on a Saturday, on a Saturday game day, no less, Sarah went back to her studies. It was hard to focus, though. Quinn was definitely up to something. They were even playing the Oilers that evening. Something fishy was definitely going on. 

All the same, at 10:30, she changed out of her pajamas, pulled half of her hair up, and put on some makeup before walking down to the lobby. 

Quinn was right on time, parked right in front of the front door. 

“Thanks, Reece,” she said as he held the door open for her. 

“Have a good day, Ms. Roberts,” he said with a nod. 

She slid into the seat of Quinn’s posh new car. She’d learned by now that most players leased a new car at the beginning of every season. Instead of the Jeep, Quinn now had a sleek and luxurious new Porsche SUV. Most of her hated that it was so expensive when there were perfectly good, reliable options that were half the price. Each time she got in it, though, she had to admit: it was extremely comfortable, and the features really were something else. She found a small measure of comfort that at least it wasn’t some ridiculous sports car. 

“So, where are we headed?” she asked as he pulled back into traffic. 

“You’ll see,” he said with a little smile as he reached across the console for her hand. 

Although he had a destination programmed into the car's GPS, she wasn’t entirely sure how the thing worked and didn’t want to accidentally get them off course by fiddling with it. 

They went out of the city, which surprised her. He was bothering to take her to Richmond when they had to get back in time for the game? Not that the 30 minute drive was outrageous, but it seemed a luxury to her when they didn’t have all that much time to begin with.

“We needed to come all the way out to Richmond to go to Costco?”

“It’s the second Saturday of the month,” he said quietly, “and this one's bigger than the one by home. I’m sorry we couldn’t go tonight.” 

“Oh,” her breath hitched as his intention settled on her. She’d stopped mentally marking second Saturdays about a year after her dad died, so she hadn’t even known.

The hiss of his seatbelt retracting brought Sarah out of her daze, and she reached for him before he could get out of the car. 

“Thank you,” she said, feeling both a swell of gratitude as well as a tightening in her chest. 

He beamed, glad he’d pulled it off. “I’ve been trying to get here, but you were so busy with the start of the semester, and then I was out of town…” he trailed off. 

“This is really sweet, Quinn.” Holding his chin, she leaned over the center console to press her lips to his.

He’d wanted to set up this date since she’d told him about her family’s monthly Costco adventures. “Ready?” he asked, nodding toward the store. 

She took a deep breath, letting it sigh out before nodding, “yeah.” 

When she rounded the car and he took her hand, she tried to blink the tears from her eyes. 

“I haven’t been back here,” she said quietly, wanting to explain, just in case she burst into tears. That hadn’t happened for a while, but she could never quite rule it out, especially now that the ache of doing this with him, but without her dad, was freshly torn open. That, mixed with the gratitude she felt at his want to do this for her, especially on a game day, brought up a swirl of so many emotions. Quinn was so incredibly thoughtful. 

He stopped in his tracks, “is this your first time back since your dad died?” he asked. 

“No, I went with mom whenever she or I was visiting, and we all go whenever I’m in town,” she said, “I just don’t think I’ve been without my siblings since she died.”

“Are you okay? We don’t have to go.” He was such an idiot. He should have asked her about it instead of just springing this on her. 

“No, I want to go,” she assured, giving his hand a squeeze. “It just makes me a little nostalgic, that’s all.” 

Before they got to the doors. She tugged him back, “this is really thoughtful, Q.” Why hadn’t she said it before? “Thank you. I feel really cared for.”

The big, genuine smile that took over his face made her heart swell.  

“So what are we looking for?” she asked, grabbing a cart and following him inside. 

“I kind of thought…” he trailed off, lifting the cap off his head, trying to smooth his hair down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a mother turn her pointing little girl away.

“Hm?”

“I thought we could get some Christmas decorations. Like, obviously, we need a tree, but I didn’t know if you wanted a real one, or…” he trailed off. 

“Isn’t it a little early to be decorating for Christmas? I figured you were a strictly after Thanksgiving kinda guy.”

He laughed, “I mean, I am, but this was the only second Saturday I’m in town before January, so I figured we could shop and then decorate later.” 

A smile beamed over her face, and a sigh unknotted some of the anxiety coiling in his chest. They’d talked, well argued, a little about Christmas. He wanted her to come to Michigan with his family, but it was her siblings' year to be together, so she wanted them to go to Nevada. He was just about ready to fly everyone to Vancouver. It was their first Christmas together. He didn’t want to spend it apart, but he didn’t want either of them to miss out on time with their families. 

“I’ve never had a real tree,” she mused. 

“Really?” 

“My mom always said she hated the mess.” She paused for a moment, remembering, “well, I guess that’s not quite true. Trav and Trev had a real tree the year I lived with them, but it wasn't really my thing. I went back to Nevada in mid-December, so I didn’t help decorate or anything.”

“Okay, so we’ll get a real tree,” he agreed, glad to have that sorted. “You should get to experience it at least once.”

“Okay,” she agreed, a light coming into her face he usually associated with her while she was talking about her research.

The smile Quinn gave her in response - large and happy and indulgent - made her stomach flutter. 

“What do you think  the theme should be?” she asked.

“Hu?” 

“The theme,” she repeated, “like red, or blue or, like, snow?” 

“I don’t…know?”

“Is there anything you really like?” 

“I hate the flocking,” he said. 

“Not what I asked, but still helpful,” she said with a cheeky smile and a wink. 

Quinn felt himself blush. “I don’t know…I feel like I’m bad at this kind of stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff,” she asked, guiding them to the decor aisles. 

“Decorating and stuff.” 

She pshawed, waving her hand, “my mom always said if you like what you come up with, design is never bad. It might not be someone else's taste or style, but it’s not their house.” 

Right, her mom was an interior designer. 

“What do you like?” he asked, stopping to look at a display of dancing elves. They were sort of horrifyingly kitschy, but he couldn’t look away.

“I like classic things. Like red and green, or blue and white. Or, one year, my mom did this really pretty floral design. That doesn’t really match our vibe, though.”

“Did she design a new tree every year?” 

“Sometimes. It all depended on what set her off. She’d sometimes find something like a tartan ribbon, and she’d spin a whole design off of that. We had another little tree in our basement that all of our homemade ornaments went on. We always put presents under that one.” 

“Do you want two?” 

“Trees?” 

“Yeah, one upstairs and one downstairs.”

“Do you?”

He shrugged. “We could put one by the lucky couch.” 

The lucky couch being the suede couch. She’d jokingly called it that after their escapades when the Canucks clinched into the playoffs, “I feel like all I do on this couch is get lucky,” and the name had stuck.  

“Do you want that?” she asked now, looking at him seriously. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what that would be like. Ultimately, he shrugged, “wouldn’t hurt.” 

She laughed a little. “How about we sort the theme first?” 

He nodded, glad that she had some kind of a plan. 

“Why don’t we split up for a minute? We’ll each find a few things we like, and hopefully, a theme will come out of that.” It was something her mom often did when working with clients. It brought out shared styles. 

“Okay.” 

Sarah wandered off with the cart, heart so full she felt like it might just push into her mouth. 

After five minutes, when Quinn didn't come back, she went looking for him. She found him on one of the fringe aisles, locked in a conversation with a star struck fan. 

He glanced up when she rounded the corner. 

When it became obvious that the person currently holding his attention wouldn't let up anytime soon, he waited for them to finish their thought about the upcoming game and then started to excuse himself. “It was nice talking with you, but I need to be going.” 

“Oh,” the guy seemed to remember they were standing in Costco, “of course. Thanks for chatting, man.” 

They shook hands, and Quinn stepped around him to join up with Sarah. 

“Did you find anything, or did you immediately get bombarded?” 

The smile he sent her way was indulgent. “I got a bit of a look.” Taking the other end of the cart, he pulled her down one of the decor aisles and pointed out some different shaped gold glass ornaments. 

“I liked those, too, but I liked the silver better.” 

“We could get both,” Quinn suggested, lifting a box of each color into the cart. 

“You want to go metallic?”

One side of his mouth twisted. 

“So, no,” Sarah laughed. “What do you think instead?” 

“I don’t know. I just think only metallic is kind of weird.” 

“Okay,” Sarah turned to another section of baubles and started putting them between the silver and gold. 

They discussed the combinations but couldn’t agree on what colors looked better together. 

“Why don’t we just do two trees,” Quinn suggested after having the same circular conversation twice. 

Sarah agreed, glad he brought it up again.  

“Do you want two live ones?” 

“I think we should get one fake one. I’m already a little worried I’m going to forget to water the one.” 

“Do we have to water it?” 

“I’d imagine so. It’s a living plant, isn’t it?” 

He’d never thought about it. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Didn’t you have real trees growing up?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, before sheepishly adding on, “but my mom did all of that.”   

Just as he expected, Sarah snorted. “I can’t believe your dad made your mom take care of something for a holiday she doesn’t even celebrate.” 

“She celebrated Christmas,” Quinn argued. “It’s not like she was against it or something.” 

“It’s the principle of the thing.” 

He smiled indulgently at her. 

They spent another hour wandering around Costco, deciding what to buy. Sarah tried not to wince at the price when it totaled on the checking screen. It was their first year, after all. These things would always be basics they could use over and over again. 

After loading it in the back of his car and starting for home, Sarah spoke again. “Quinn?”

He glanced at her, worry etched onto his face. 

“I just wanted to say thank you again,” she assured, reaching for his hand. “This was so thoughtful and kind.”

A  smile spread over his face, “you don’t need to thank me, Sarah. “I like when I can do something special for you.” 

It wasn’t a strange thing to her anymore, to be with such a caring partner, who not only remembered things about her, but put them to use. Just the other day, he’d brought a set of playing cards home from Seattle after she mentioned wanting to use some different ones in her research with Walter. 

Quinn let her pull his hand into her lap, glad that he’d pulled this off and that she’d enjoyed it so much.   

When the day of the party arrived, Sarah was feeling remarkably calm. 

While they were planning, she felt the weight of hosting the team as the Captain’s girlfriend like a physical thing she had to uphold. Not only did she want everyone to have a good time, she felt it was partially her responsibility to represent Quinn well. Not that he couldn’t do that on his own. He could. It just felt like another mantle she had to uphold and worried she would somehow fail or let him down.

After sharing these fears with her therapist, she helped her to remember that while her fears were understandable, there wasn’t really any basis for them. She’d already spent time with the team with the title of the captain’s girlfriend. The only difference now, as Jenny pointed out, was that she and Quinn were living together. “Which,” Jenny told her, “really only solidifies your relationship. If the team had any issues with Quinn dating you, they would have brought them up a long time ago.” 

Now, as she got ready, hosting their first party together felt like a cementing step in their relationship. It felt a bit like something out of a fairy tale. 

Pulling at the skirt of her dress until it fell the way it was meant to, she smoothed her hands over her hips as she smiled. It’d been a ridiculously long process to find the right dress, but now that she was on the other side of it, the final result was well worth work.

After going shopping with Bella and Katelyn, she came home empty handed.  Everything they'd found was too…much. Too frilly, or too plain. Nothing fit correctly, or it didn’t cover what she wanted covered or didn’t flatter her body. She didn’t even have an image in her head of what she wanted to wear (she rarely did), but nothing they found felt right. 

She’d be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that dress hunting had, at least partially, been so hard because she felt more than a little frumpy and even a little bit fat standing next to both beautiful women. Not that either of them did anything to make her feel that way. They were kind and nice, and two of her best friends among the wives and girlfriends. Still, anytime she tried on a dress, on top of it not being right, when she stood next to them, her eyes were automatically drawn to her hips and stomach, which were so much rounder than either of theirs. 

Generally, body image didn’t bother her - she knew she was attractive and knew Quinn found her attractive. Even knowing that, she had a hard time turning off that comparison part of her brain when seeing herself reflected back next to the two thin women she was with. 

So, while both of them walked away with beautiful party dresses, Katelyn in a short, delicately sewn green frock, and Bella in a sparkly blue sweeping number, Sarah was forced to go hunting for the perfect dress online. Knowing she was running out of time, she bought fourteen, figuring she would return what she didn’t like.

Of course, it was the last one - which arrived only a week before the party - that finally sang to her. Even Quinn commented on it when he saw it hanging in the closet, telling her, “I like this one.”

“Yeah?” 

He’d nodded, offered her a cheeky smile as he said, “I can't wait to see what it looks like on you.”  

At the time, she’d laughed and shaken her head, but with the way he was looking at her now, she knew he hadn’t been lying. 

“Wow,” Quinn said, eyes scanning up and down her body when Sarah walked out of the walk-in closet.

The sparkly fabric cradled her curves as if it had been made for her. He especially liked the way it just barely cupped her ass before billowing down to the floor. He’d never seen her in something so fancy - they’d never had the occasion to dress up like this. 

Thoughts of past prom and formal dates skipped through his mind, and he decided she was the prettiest date he’d ever had. Especially with the way the dark red color turned her eyes a stormy blue.

She gave him a teasing, little smile, “you like it?” 

Scoffing, he gave up fighting the impulse to grasp her hips. The fabric was smooth and surprisingly soft under his palms. He’d expected the tinsel-y shine to be scratchy. Whoever made it knew what they were doing. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you all night,” he said as his eyes drank in her figure one more time. 

Slipping her arms around his neck, she gave him a seductive smile and a wink, “lucky for you, I think we could arrange for you to take me home tonight.” 

“Really?” he teased, one hand sliding around to cradle that curve of her butt he’d been admiring earlier. 

“Play your cards right, and I think you just might.” 

“I might have to corner you under the mistletoe before then.”

“I thought you hated mistletoe,” she said, rolling her eyes. He'd been mildly horrified when he found she'd hung two sprigs of it in the apartment – one in the front hall and one in the doorway to the kitchen. 

“I don’t know that I’d hate it with you,” he said, voice soft as he caressed her hips again. “I hated when people would try to corral me under it with some girl they wanted me to date,” he explained. “If it means I get to kiss you, I’m going to take advantage every time I can.” 

Thinking of past Christmases and failed mistletoe attempts, Quinn was so struck by her. His life from a year ago had been turned totally upside down. All in good ways, but it was still startling to glance back at how lonely he was last Christmas in comparison to the joy, love, and contentment he felt this year. 

 “You’re going to be the prettiest girl here,” he said, unable to stop himself from looking her over again.

Though she smiled, she snorted and rolled her eyes. 

“You will be,” he insisted, pulling her against him. He couldn’t fight not touching her more. 

Deciding she was too tired to push back against his compliments, Sarah leaned in to press her lips to his. With her heels on, he was just an inch taller than she was. Kissing Quinn was never difficult, but she did enjoy the easier access their closer heights allowed for. 

He mumbled a noise, his other hand coming up to cup the back of her head to intensify the kiss. 

As she broke away, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “are you not wearing any underwear?”

Her eyes fluttered open. “What?” she asked, a laugh splitting her mouth into a natural, pretty smile. 

“I can’t feel anything,” he explained, running his palm over her bum again. 

“Strictly speaking? No.” 

His eyes grew round with shock. 

“But I have shape wear on, so it’s kind of worse. Harder to get off.”

An almost relieved smile crossed his face. 

“Why?” 

“I just…I was gonna have a real hard time tonight if you weren’t wearing anything under this dress,” he admitted as his palm slid up the curve of her body.

“I don’t think I could face a party with your teammates without any underwear on.”

“Too bad,” he tsked, “then I really wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you all night.” 

“Be a good boy,” she admonished, moving his fingers from where they were sneaking under the straps.

Licking his lips, Quinn looked into her face, his expression eager. 

She held his gaze, letting the tension build between them. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against her leg. He didn’t look away.

“That’ll be the food,” she said, breaking the spell. “You better go grab it.”

“Yeah.” Shaking his head gently, Quinn reminded himself they were heading into a party and now was not the time for him to start fantasizing. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Those pants still look super hot on you!” she called, following him. 

A few weeks before, she’d first told him she liked them by sending him a Canucks Instagram story that showed him walking through the arena parking garage, along with the message, got me drooling over your thighs in this suit. The gray fabric was cut close, making his legs look deliciously thick and muscled.

His laughter echoed off the windows as he jogged down the stairs. “I’m wearing them just for you!” he called back before the front door shut. 

Making her way down to the kitchen, Sarah surveyed the apartment on the way. They had decided to put the second tree next to the lucky couch, which only served to make the spot more romantic. Since it’d gone up, they’d spent at least one night a week curled up together reading by it’s light. It was decorated in silver and green, while the larger, fresh tree was decorated in classic red and gold, including some geometric diamonds her mom used in their last family tree. Sarah had asked her sister, Rachel, if she could send them to her. It was nice, having that little part of her mom in the house at a time they both loved so much, nice to see pieces of Quinn mixed in with everything. 

Other than the trees, there were no other holiday decorations besides a Christmas Village that had belonged to her dad, which was set up on the sideboard in the living room. 

An hour later, almost everyone was there, dressed in their holiday finery. 

Quinn had an incredibly soft, dark green cashmere sweater on over top of a white dress shirt. He’d almost worn the bomb cufflinks Sarah had given him, but at the last minute, he decided it would be more practical if he rolled his sleeves up.

The way Sarah’s eyes lingered on his forearms when he had told him he made the right choice. 

Sarah had insisted the men needed to wear slacks, “if the women are putting on dresses, it’s the least you can do. No dude gets to show up in jeans when women have to wear shape wear.” 

He said he saw her point and dropped the bad news on the boys the following day. 

“Oh my God!” Bella gushed, walking into the house. “It looks gorgeous in here!” 

“Thank you. It was really fun to decorate together for the first time.”

“Huggy helped with this?” Brock asked dubiously, walking up and slipping an arm around Bella’s waist. Sarah swore they both could wear head to toe hunting orange and still be the most beautiful couple she’d ever seen. Seeing them dressed for the season was like looking into a catalog, two perfect people in exactly the perfect clothes, matched to perfection. If they stood by the tree, she was pretty sure she could submit the picture to any department store in the world, and they’d put them in an ad without question. It was quite stunning, really. 

“He did,” Sarah said, beaming. “We decided on the theme together and got decorations, and we put up the trees before you guys left over Thanksgiving.” 

“Brock never helps with stuff like that,” Bella teased. 

“I offered!” Brock corrected. “She said she doesn't trust my taste,” he told Sarah conspiratorially before dropping a kiss to Bella’s cheek and announcing, “I’m going to get us drinks.” 

“Oh my god,” Bella exclaimed once he was gone, “where did you find this dress? It’s, like, perfect!” 

“Its from this Australian company called Blackmilk. It was the last one to arrive,” Sarah said with a roll of her eyes, “of course.” 

“Well, it was worth the wait. You look killer. Your ass looks insane.” 

Sarah laughed, “the spanx have a lot to do with that.”

Bella shook her head, “no. You have a great ass. I wish I had curves like yours.”

Glancing down at herself, then at Bella’s petite frame, Sarah wondered who it served for women to be pitted against each other this way. The beauty industry, probably. Whoever invented spanx. 

“That's sweet, thank you.” 

Bella hooked her arm through Sarah's and demanded a tour of the apartment with everything decorated. 

Watching from across the living room as Sarah opened the door, looking comfortable and every part the hostess, Quinn smiled, glad to see her feeling so at home. 

He was only a little surprised to see the Millers on the other side of the door. He’d invited them, but didn’t hear anything back.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Sarah gushed, accepting the box of chocolates Natalie offered, before wrapping her in a hug.  

There had been some debate whether or not the Millers would be able to attend - it was their first team function in quite a while - but Sarah was extremely glad they were here. It wouldn’t feel like a team party without them. 

“Come in, come in. We have cocktails and mocktails and lots of food,” she said, turning to embrace JT.

He smiled, uncharacteristically quiet. 

Natalie stayed by Sarah’s side as he wandered into the party, getting progressively louder as he bro-hugged and took some ribbing from his teammates, jibing them in turn as if no time had passed.“Thank you for not making a big deal of this,” she said. 

Sarah shrugged, “I’m just glad you’re here.” 

The other woman gave her a watery smile, and Sarah took her arm to pull her into the house, “what can I get you to drink?” 

The one thing Quinn hadn’t counted on when planning this party was how much he’d be separated from her. When they attended parties in the past, they were often together, or at least not apart for long. Now, with the role of hosts, they had people to talk to and drinks to refresh, and it felt like everything was pulling them away from each other, rather than closer together. 

As the night went on, even though they were still separated, Quinn found he always seemed to know where Sarah was. Not just from her laugh, which he did hear in abundance, or from  glimpsing light glinting off her sparkly dress, which occasionally flashed in the corners of his vision. No, it was that same magnetic force that pulled him to her the first time he saw her, still in full effect.

He was talking with Conor when he felt that longing hook in his navel, nudging him in her direction. 

When he looked up, however, he couldn’t see her. It only took a moment for her to reappear, walking from the kitchen, smiling at something Meghan was showing her on her phone. Probably photos of Quint, he guessed. She had a new bottle of Perrier in one hand and a bowl of ice in the other. 

As if sensing his gaze, she glanced up. 

Once their eyes met, their connection followed suit, snapping into alignment as they held each other's gaze. He was on the other side of the apartment, in the living room, but for a brief moment, it seemed everyone else fell 6 they were alone in the house again. 

She winked, and a ridiculous, cheesy smile took over his whole face. 

They’d taken pictures in front of the Christmas tree at the beginning of the night as soon as Elias and Katelyn had arrived and could hold the camera. Sarah wanted to send them to her family. He’d smiled when the photo had popped up in the chat she had with his family. His mom had almost immediately hearted the photo and gushed over how beautiful Sarah looked in her dress. 

You look nice too, Quinn, Luke had quipped. 

That had been the last time he had his hands on her, and watching her chat with Meghan as she tipped fresh ice into the metal bucket, he was itching to touch her again. 

“So, what did you think of that video session today?” Conor asked. 

“Hu?” Quinn murmured, unable to tear his eyes from Sarah as she started to laugh. 

Conor followed his sightline. “Oh god, you’re hopeless,” he murmured. “Go get your fix, then come talk to me,” he said, tone only half joking as he pushed Quinn’s shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Can I borrow her for a minute?” Quinn asked, throwing a smile in Meghan's direction as he walked up to them. 

Not waiting for an answer, he took the bowl from Sarah's hand, setting it on the bar cart and leading her back in the direction of the kitchen by a loose grip on her upper arm. 

“Quinn, what's wrong?” she asked, glancing back to make sure Meghan didn't feel abandoned. Thankfully, Natalie had taken her place in the conversation.

“Nothing wrong,” he said, stopping to lean in the kitchen doorway. 

One of her eyebrows raised, “you just needed to come hang out in the kitchen?” 

A snort of laughter escaped his mouth before he pointed up. Sarah followed his finger to the little sprig of fake mistletoe she’d hung there. “I thought you were joking,” she said, her eyes coming back to his face. 

“About this dress?” he asked, slipping his hands over her hips and around to hold her bum. “Or about wanting to kiss you under the mistletoe?” 

She glanced back to the party, hoping no one caught Quinn groping her so openly. “I don't know. About the cornering bit, I guess.”

A smile crept over his face, “how else was I supposed to guarantee we'd end up here together?” 

Sarah tried to roll her eyes but ended up smiling instead. It was nice to feel so wanted. 

“I missed you,” he said, nudging her to step toward him by tightening his hands. 

“Quinn, people can see,” she admonished, even as she moved closer. 

“So?”  

“So you have your hands all over my ass in plain sight.” 

“I don’t think anyone would blame me for wanting to touch you in this dress,” he said.

A thrill spiked in her chest. She’d never had this much pull over a man. “And what were you hoping for under this mistletoe?” she asked.

“Just need a minute to tide me over until the party ends,” he murmured, leaning in. 

His lips brushed over hers. 

Deciding she didn’t care if people saw, Sarah sighed into him. Everyone knew they were dating, after all. More than dating - they were living together. They were throwing a party together. No one would be shocked to see them under the mistletoe. 

Allowing herself to sink into the kiss, she opened her mouth and welcomed the sweet, tangy taste of his tongue. He must have just drunk some of the cranberry punch she made. 

 A contented noise escaped his mouth, and Quinn leaned a little closer, savoring the hint of chocolate liqueur in her mouth. 

The knowledge that his entire team and their partners were in the house caught up to him, and Quinn pulled back. He didn’t really want to, but he also didn’t want the ribbing that would surely come his way if it went any farther.  

He just needed to make it to that evening anyway. 

Pursing his lips together, he met her eyes.

Her smile told him she was looking just as forward to the end of the party as he was. 

The anticipation of it spiked in his stomach, making him feel giddy. 

The laughter and drinks kept flowing long after the gift exchange wound down.

 In an effort to do something different from the year before, they’d proposed a white elephant type exchange, but each gift had to be worth at least 100 dollars and something nice, not jokey. 

The most fought over gifts were a bottle of imported Irish Whiskey Dakota brought and a diamond necklace Sarah had found in a vintage shop along her regular route home.

Quinn ended up with a pair of tickets to a cooking class with a local chef, while Sarah ended up with a ridiculously soft cashmere scarf. 

Though Sarah expected that everyone, with their rigorous travel schedules, would want to get home as soon as possible, it seemed they all were savoring the time together without their kids and without the pressure of practice or a game. 

It was nice to see all the guys casual and carefree in a way that didn’t happen very often. She rarely saw the whole team so relaxed together. 

When it became evident that everyone would be staying much later than anticipated, Sarah started to readjust her expectations for the evening. The way things were going, they’d be too tired to do anything but do a quick clean of the apartment and flop into bed when the night wound down. 

Quinn was chatting with Lankinen in the kitchen, looking so effortlessly handsome in his sweater and slacks. Those slacks really should be a crime. his thighs looked good enough to bite. And then he’d gone and rolled up his sleeves. He had strong wrists and forearms, and when he wore shirts like this, she always felt a strange surge of attraction to them. 

As she continued to stare, just as she expected would happen, he looked up to meet her gaze. 

She gave a subtle head tilt toward the entry hall and raised her eyebrows. 

A smile crept over his face, and he nodded. 

Trying to be casual, she made her way to the front door. She’d hung mistletoe in the entryway, imagining kissing each other hello and goodbye at the door, even though that rarely happened in their everyday life. 

By the time Quinn was able to make his excuses and follow Sarah to the front door, she’d been there for several minutes, He found her leaning against the wall, with her head tilted back, seemingly savoring the time alone. 

He was just wondering if he should leave and come back when she glanced over. 

A smile immediately spread over her face, and she straightened.

“You okay?” he asked, closing the distance between them. 

“Yeah.” Her voice was quiet, just for him. 

Slipping her arms around his neck, she met his eyes. Even in the dim, entryway light, she could see how the color of his sweater brought out the green in his eyes, making them a mottled, foresty color.

“You should wear green more often.”

The left corner of his mouth tipped up. “I should?” 

“Yeah.” Her fingers wove themselves into the curls at the base of his skull. “It brings out the color in your eyes.” 

He fluttered his lashes, and she giggled. “Can you just learn to take a compliment?” 

A blush flashed over his cheeks. 

“You’re just really handsome,” she said, almost as if it was a confession. 

Quinn resisted the urge to deflect the compliment and busied himself with running his hands over the smooth fabric of her dress. “You should wear this all the time.” 

“All the time?” she repeated. 

He nodded. 

“Even at the aquarium?” 

A laugh chuffed out of his mouth. “Okay, maybe not all the time,” he continued before she could cut in, “you just look really beautiful in it.” 

She knew how Quinn felt about this dress, he’d made that abundantly clear throughout the night - checking her out each time she entered the room and with his little stunt in the kitchen - but hearing the sincerity in his voice now made it burrow home with a bit more force. 

It was her turn to blush. 

“You’re doing okay?” he asked. “I can start telling people they need to leave.” 

She shook her head, “You don’t need to do that. I’m having fun. Just wanted you to myself for a minute.” 

Quinn felt a ridiculously big smile spread over his face. “Always happy to do that,” he said, leaning closer. 

As their mouths melted together, Sarah thought she heard shushing but pushed the whispers out of her mind, relishing the stolen moment alone. 

She didn’t think about it for the rest of the night, which lasted well into the next morning. By the time everyone left, after Natalie and JT stayed late to help them clean up, it was past two. 

Glancing at her phone for the first time after loading the dishwasher, Sarah was surprised to see she had a message from Katelyn. When she opened it, she found a dimly lit photo of her and Quinn in the entryway, kissing under the mistletoe. His hands were on her waist, and hers were in his hair. Through her editing magic, Kate had blurred everything else in the background, making the photo look just like Sarah felt in that moment – as if she and Quinn were in their own little bubble. 

Caught you guys under the mistletoe. It was too cute not to take a pic. Hope you don’t mind. Thanks for a great party. E was telling me on the way home how happy Q’s been since he met you. Anyway, just glad this crazy world brought us together. Love you, girl. 

 Love you too. Thank you for the beautiful picture. 

Katelyn hearted the message, and when Sarah showed it to Quinn, he said, “that one should go in the launch deck, don’t you think?”

Sarah nodded, her movement slow with sudden fatigue.

“Come on,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her away from the kitchen and the dishes. “We can finish this up in the morning. Let’s get to bed.” 

Too tired to argue that they really should just get it all done now, she let him lead her upstairs. 

They got ready for bed, and as he pulled her close, Quinn whispered, “I love you, you know that?” 

“I know.” It took a sleepy minute for her to continue, “I love you, too. I’m glad we did this.”

Tucking his nose into her hair, Quinn breathed in her familiar scent. His voice was dim when he thanked her. 

She turned, pressing her nose into the divot of his collar bone so he felt and heard her next words. 

“I’m glad this Christmas is with you.” 

 “I wouldn’t want it with anyone else.” 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[scoutswritingcorner]

Despite Everything

Alastor x GN! Reader

A/n: I’ve been seeing too many angst prompts on tiktok- ANYWAYS I WORKED ON THIS BETWEEN REQUESTS SO ENJOY

TW: Angst, Flashback to when you were alive, drinking, talk of murder, secret marriage.

Part 2: It's Still You

Alastor sent a glare towards Mimzy as she sat at the bar. Why was she telling all his dirty secrets but what made him let out a growl was she mentioned something that shocked everyone into silence around her. One of his best kept secrets is now out in the open. He wanted to kill her right there but he couldn’t, he was stuck where he stood staring her down as loud static echoed around everyone in the hotel. Even Husk had quickly made an exit.

“Oh yeah! I saw your little songbird wanderin’ around Cannibal Town, Alastor.” She hummed ignoring his glare as his smile threatened to fall, ears flickering in annoyance. “Songbird?” Angel asked unfazed from Alastor’s angry sulking, “Oh Alastor don’t tell me you haven’t told them about your spouse!” She hummed out taking a sip from whatever Husk had given her. Everyone abrupt into questions at that, only falling silent when Alastor sent them a glare. His cane tapped on the ground in annoyance before he stormed out of the hotel, feet automatically taking him towards Cannibal Town he needed to find out if what Mimzy was saying was true or was she just trying to get under his skin. They shouldn’t be down here- they should be up in Heaven, especially after what he had done.

~~

Your hands gripped the ceramic sink as you glared at your reflection in the mirror. You were tired, so tired from constantly being around people that it drained you before you could even get onto the stage and sing your heart out. Was this what fame felt like? Even if it wasn’t the finer Hollywood fame people have talked about, but the fame that came with being a known singer around where you lived. 

A knock on the door made you jump out of your skin before you let out a soft sigh walking towards the door, “Mr. Deverick give me a few more moments-” You stopped mid sentence as you gazed upon the famous radio host standing in front of you, a soft smile on his lips as he held out your favorite flowers. “Now I’m not Mr. Deverick but I will generously give you a moment alone if needed.” He hummed stepping inside your personal room after you had let him in, the flowers still in his hand. Closing the door you let a small smile grace your lips, seeing your husband fix his suit in the vanity that was located in the corner of the room.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Alastor?” You asked as you also fixed your clothes making sure to hide the wedding ring under your favorite pair of gloves, you’ve had to hide your marriage with Alastor for years, why was it bothering you now? “Well I wanted to come see you, Dear! Especially before your show.” He hummed out watching as you turned your back towards him to fix some things up, watching as the smile you wore turned into a frown. He walked over to you carefully placing his chin on your shoulder, “You should smile more, Dear.” He whispered, watching as you nodded and glanced at the wall, your mind was somewhere else. 

But before he could comment on it, the faraway look in your eyes disappeared and you smiled at him. Leaning your head against his and he hummed before allowing a lulling silence to captivate you both. A comfortable silence. Everything he did, it was for you. Only you.

~~~

He walked into Rosie’s Emporium, his eyes snapping onto her tall frame as she was talking to someone.  Which had made him stop in his tracks. It..It was you. You looked as beautiful as the day he married you and then the day he..he had killed you in a blind rage. You were no longer under that horrid man’s thumb.

You were here down in hell..why were you in hell? Why weren’t you in Heaven enjoying your afterlife carefree? He was snapped out of his trance as Rosie finally noticed him standing in the doorway. But he couldn’t hear her as he stared at you, seeing how you looked at him- his own spouse was scared. His songbird was terrified of him. He deserved it after all, he was the one who ripped you from the life you were living.

But deep down despite everything he had done to end up down here. He knew it was still you. You were his driving force, he did everything for you. His little Songbird.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Can't believe it's been so long since I last posted. Hope you guys enjoy this one! As always, if you see any typos... no you didn't

Warnings: Fem!reader, drunk Jake (alcohol), unprotected p in v sex, cock warming, fingering, hand jobs, doing things we shouldn't in a public place, cussing, partying. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5k

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

Late has already bled into early by the time you manage to spot Jake in the crowd again. His back is to you as he speaks excitedly to someone you’ve never seen before – though there’s a definite chance that Jake hasn’t either (he’s a chatty drunk no matter how well he knows the person). 

Tonight is a celebration of sorts. A celebration of what is to come and what they've already done. With tour on break for the holidays, the Kiszka-Wagner clan had been taking some much needed R&R after such a long and grueling schedule of shows before they have to leave again. The first few days had seen Jake lounging at home, perfectly content to spend his days entirely wrapped up with you. You had binge watched some shows that he’d missed while gone, ordered take out from all the places that he’d been craving, and over all spent almost every minute of the day within each other’s company. 

But Jake is a man who likes action – regardless of how much he enjoys spending time at home with you. After a few weeks of nothing, you can tell that he’s itching to be doing something again. First there had been simple dinner gatherings with your immediate friends and family, then jam sessions with the rest of his brothers that had lasted well into the night, and then finally he’d begged to go to this party tonight. Josh is hosting (no doubt he’s experiencing the very same restlessness that his twin is) and a party hosted by Josh is always a sure fire promise of a fun night. 

So you’d happily agreed and given Jake the go ahead to let loose tonight – party as hard as he wanted for however long he wanted and you would be there to drive him home. His eyes had lit up at your offer before he’d given you a sweet kiss and a murmured thank you before scampering upstairs to call Josh and let him know that you two would be coming. 

But as excited as Jake had been to go out tonight, he’d still periodically found his way back to you, begging you to come join him where the music is the loudest. You’d politely declined him each time, wanting to give him time to spend with his friends and brothers after giving so much of his time to you. You know that his offer is genuine. Jake wants you by his side at all times (he’s a clingy motherfucker even when he’s sober) but you had simply told him you would prefer him to go spend time with everyone else instead. He’d begrudgingly agreed and you’d since been spending your time watching him go from sober to tipsy and finally to actually drunk within the span of the last few hours. You liked watching him like this – smiling and carefree amongst the people that he loves (along with a number of people that you’re pretty sure Josh only invited because he likes a full house). 

But the crowd has dwindled as the early hours of morning approach. It’s nearing 3AM now and only some 15 people remain. You’d been parked in a far corner for the past hour or so but you’re pulled from your spot by Jake calling your name. He, along with Josh, Daniel, and Sam, have made their ways over to the couches and chairs in Josh’s living room and consequently collapsed into them. The core group you like to call them, finding each other to close the night out amongst themselves. There are others still left elsewhere – some faces vaguely familiar and some completely foreign to you, but they’re all far too wrapped up in their own conversations and drunken storytelling to notice that the host and family has moved somewhere else. 

Josh sits in one of the loveseats, one arm lazily thrown around the shoulders of his partner – also suitably drunk, who’s nuzzled into his side. Sam sits in another chair, cheeks flushed and hair a complete mess as he pours himself another drink. You know already that he’d say he’s earned it since he’s spent the night “slaving away” as the party DJ. That leaves Daniel and Jake left to find their seats, Daniel finding his place on one end of the sofa and Jake on the other. You make your way to them – each of the boys exclaiming excitedly at your approach. 

“Y/n!” Josh booms, the sheer loudness of him drowning out the others and startling his poor partner, “Gracing is with her presence at last!” 

You giggle as you make your way to the sofa, eyeing the spot between Jake and Daniel. 

“Now that you all seem to have settled down a bit I thought I would join you.” 

As you make to sit down, Jake’s hands find your hips and guide you instead to sit down on his lap. He sighs contentedly as you surrender to him without a fight, easing down on the tops of his thighs and settling your back into his chest. 

“Hi.” You tell him, twisting as much as you can in his lap to turn and see his face. His cheeks are flushed and a yummy sheen of sweat adorns his neck and temples. Eyes dark and lips looking particularly plump, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Hi there.” He answers back. “Missed you.” 

He smells like alcohol and weed – a combination that seems to have left him feeling particularly touchy as his hands settle themselves possessively on your waist. He’s warm against you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back lulling you into a relaxed state as he falls effortlessly back into the conversation with the rest of the boys. His words rumble in his chest and you take the opportunity to lean your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder. The smell and heat of him sets off some carnal, feral part of your brain and you find heat of your own pooling between your thighs. You ignore the feeling, opting instead to try and focus your mind on the conversation at hand. 

“-and so I told him that he would either have to sleep there or find someone else to take him home because I wasn’t doing it.” Sam’s voice wafts through the air. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about but you have a sneaking suspicion that he probably isn’t all that sure of what he’s saying either. 

“You’ve always been a little punk ass.” Josh interjects, giggling a little bit at his own words. “Since you came out of the womb.” 

Sam meets him with a scowl. 

“I just learned from the best, actually.” He snarks back, though there’s no real heat behind his words. 

“Don’t talk about Danny like that.” Jake’s rumbling voice interrupts and though you can’t see him, you can hear the grin as he speaks. “He’s a wonderful influence, Samuel.”

Danny laughs heartily, tossing his head back as he does so. Josh smiles like he’s just won a prize and Sam only meets Jake with an eyeroll. 

“I was talking about you two.” He says, pointing between the twins. 

They continue on with their bickering and you do your best to keep up with them. The few remaining guests filter their way out one by one, giving thanks to Josh on their way out. The boy’s conversations weave in and out, jumping from topic to topic as they often do. It's hard to keep up, especially as your focus strays from the conversation to the uncomfortable kink in your back from sitting in this position against Jake’s chest. You shift a little bit, settling down further in his lap to ease the feeling. As you shift, a hiss escapes him and his hands tighten on your hips. 

“Angel.” He whispers, tilting his head down to press his lips closer to your ear. “Careful.” 

You can’t help the way your eyes widen and your core pulses at his tone. His words are rough and ever so slightly slurred. His fingertips dig into the meat of your thighs in a way that makes you dizzy with a sudden want for him to take you right here in front of everyone. 

“Something wrong?” You answer him back, turning your head and capturing his lips with yours. Alcohol and weed and Jake hit your tastebuds and you shift once again in his lap. 

“Something’s hard.” He murmurs against your lips. 

And he is. 

You can feel him now, hot and solid against your ass. It sends your blood boiling and your cunt clenching around nothing. 

You exhale shakily, willing your voice to remain passive and unbothered. 

“Poor baby.” You say, turning back away from him and earning yourself a growl from deep in his chest. 

“Jake stick you with being DD for the night, Y/n?” Daniel asks, causing everyone’s eyes to shift towards you and Jake. You can feel him tense behind you. He’s still rock hard against you and everyone’s eyes on him only serve to make him more excited as he tries to play it cool. 

“I offered.” You answer Danny, dropping your hand onto Jake’s thigh. “Plus, he’s a handful to deal with even when I’m sober.” You squeeze his thigh. “So I figured I’d lay off the alcohol tonight.”

“Oh he’s something alright.” Josh supplies, grinning ear to ear at his brother. You worry suddenly that he knows somehow. Freaky twin thing and all that, especially given the Cheshire smile he shoots your way. But he looks away and back to the others quickly and you dismiss the idea. Freaking twins.

Conversation divulges again and the attention falls from you and Jake. But he’s worked up now and there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily. Sober Jake is a horndog… drunk Jake is damn near insatiable. 

“Play nice.” Jake warns you, his voice just barely loud enough that you can hear it. “Don’t wanna have to punish you.” 

That finally makes your breath stutter and halt in your chest. Jake can feel you still against him and he chuckles. 

So the game begins. 

Wordlessly, you shift your weight and slide your ass across his crotch. Jake bites his lip and his eyes blaze as he watches you settle your rear onto the sofa next to him with an innocent smile. With your legs draped across his hips (still keeping his hard on from being seen by everyone in the room) you’re free now to settle into his side. You’re playing a dangerous game messing with him like this but the new position allows for you to press your calf into the growing bulge beneath his dark jeans and for your hands to settle on his midsection. Deceivingly innocent to others but filled with possibilities to tease him. Jake knows this though, and those dark eyes of his are pinned to you, lust-blown and dangerous as his breathing picks up. 

You look away and do your best to turn your attention back to the group. Jake does the same, but the feeling of his hard dick against your calf is proof enough that he’s still more than distracted. 

As the conversation carries on, you do your best to interject every now and then to at least pretend to be interested. But you’re more interested in taking Jake home and devouring him. But you suppose the waiting will only make the reward sweeter in the end. Jake, for his part, seems to be feeling the very same. His eyes dart to your face periodically, heavy lidded and carrying the weight of how much he wants you right now. But even with the lust coursing through the both of you, he still looks at you whenever he makes a joke (making sure he’s succeeded in making you laugh) and his fingertips absentmindedly drum songs and beats onto your shin. As worked up as he is, his sweetness still seems to outweigh the alcohol in his system. It just makes you want him more. 

Bored with waiting and ready for him to say it’s time to go, you delicately trace your fingers across his midsection. You press your fingertips into the soft flesh of his sides as you keep your eyes trained anywhere but him. Jake cocks his head to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you shift your leg and rub your calf across him. Half-hard still, his body tenses. His hand finds yours on his belly and he stills it, grip tightening in warning. 

Not satisfied with his reaction, you press your leg down again and this time his spine goes ramrod straight as his hips buck up on their own to meet the feeling. 

That’s one point for you. 

“Why are you trying to start shit?” He murmurs, taking a sip from the glass that he’d just refilled. 

“Because I can.” 

“Because you’re desperate.” The last word comes out as an almost growl. 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not anything.” 

“You think I can’t tell?” He asks you, his head tilted down and gaze trained solely on you. You scan the rest of the group, afraid that they’ll hear whatever filth is about to spill from between his plump lips. Thankfully, they’re all far too engaged with their own conversation to notice what’s going on between you and Jake. “Your cheeks are flushed all pink like they get when you’re horny.” He starts, fingers trailing up from your calf to your thigh. “And you're breathing fast. Like you do when you’re wet.” His fingers go higher still and your thighs clench despite yourself. 

He wins the point this time and you can’t help the little sigh that escapes you. 

“Maybe I’m just tired of waiting.” It’s all you can think to say – the lust fogging your brain and making it impossible for you to come up with a witty retort. You want him. Now. 

“You’re going to have to wait a while longer.” 

“Why?” The question is reminiscent of a young child. Whiny and full of demanding petulance at his refusal to take you home and fuck you this instant. 

“Because someone,” he shifts his hips slightly, “made me rock fucking hard. And I can’t get up like this right now. Not with all them” his eyes dart to the group, “sitting right there.” 

You huff a breath. 

“Please.” 

He hums and places his glass on the table next to you. His own control is cracking under the weight of your heavy gaze (and calf that's teasing his dick relentlessly) and you realize with glee that you've gotten what you wanted. 

“Gentlemen,” he starts, clapping his hands down on your legs and interrupting one of Josh’s long-winded stories. “I think we’re going to call it a night. The missus is getting tired.” He grins at you and you flush even more. 

“Leaving without helping clean up?” Josh demands, extracting himself from his partner’s grip and rising to his feet.

“Oh, always.” Jake answers him, words still slightly slurred. “But you’ve got these fine young gentlemen here to help you.” He gestures to Sam and Danny who both groan but stand up with Josh anyway. 

As they begin busying themselves with picking up glasses and paper plates, you raise your legs from Jake’s lap and stand. He follows you – though he teeters dangerously once he’s on his feet. 

“Easy.” You warn, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him balance. 

“I’m fine.” He laughs, but his steps remind you of a baby deer trying to walk. 

As the two of you make your way outside, you both hiss as the cold of the night hits you. You press yourself further into Jake’s side. As you reach the car – parked all the way by the road, you make to open the passenger door for Jake but he pulls you into a kiss first. 

His tongue plunges into your mouth and he groans as you grant him easy access. Despite the cold, your body thrums with the heat of your arousal. Jake’s hands are sloppy as they caress every inch of you he can get – your sides, your tits, your ass, everything. As you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair he leans his full body weight against you, pressing you into the side of the car and caging you there. You can't quite tell if it's just so he can keep you where he wants you or because he can't stand upright any longer. Either way, wetness floods your panties at the feeling of his body pressing into you. Solid is the only word you can think of to describe him. 

“Jake.” You moan as his lips trail down to your neck, the heat of his mouth a delicious juxtaposition to the frigid wind. He’s relentless, drunkenly nipping and biting at your skin in all the ways he knows you like. “Jake, quit.” You tell him, even though it’s the last thing you want him to do. 

“Why?” The question is muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your throat. 

“Get in the car. It’s cold as fuck.” 

He pouts but he straightens up and removes himself from you and you ignore the ache in your belly at the loss of contact. Jake’s fingers wrap themselves around the handle of the door but not of the passenger seat. Instead, he opens the door to the back and raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Jake.” 

“Y/n.” His tone matches yours mockingly, his eyes glittering. 

“It’s freezing.” 

“So let’s warm up then.” 

You try to fight it. You know you should. You’re out here where any one of the neighbors could look outside to see what’s happening if they look hard enough. If Josh looks outside and sees your car still here there’s no doubt that he’ll know what’s happening. Sam and Daniel are spending the night and are probably drunk enough that they’re already passed out but who knows if one of them might happen to look out a window. 

But the ache between your legs has grown nearly unbearable and you don’t want to wait any more than Jake does. And as you watch him clumsily climb into the back seat and lean himself back against the opposite door you know that any shred of resistance you had is gone. 

“You’re drunk.” You scold, unwilling to admit defeat even as you climb into the car with him and shut the door behind you. It’s freezing in the car and your teeth chatter slightly as you settle in. 

“Quit fussing.” He tells you, spreading his legs and pulling you in to settle between his thighs. “Don’t wanna have to wait.”

At that – at the pleading, whiny way he says the words, you cave and crash your lips back to his. His hands find your sides again, squeezing possessively. Your own hands find his shoulders as you attack his mouth with yours. The kiss has no real finesse, all teeth and tongue, but it’s perfect. Jake is moaning beneath you with every pass of your tongue and you realize with no small amount of excitement that the alcohol in his system has taken away any ability he had to hold all those noises in. He’s always vocal. But this? This is like Heaven to your ears. 

His hand drops to the waistband of your pants and his fingers dance along the skin there before slipping beneath. His fingers are cold as they graze over your clit through the fabric of your panties. His middle finger presses in, applying just the right amount of pressure as he begins to rub in little circles. You moan loudly into the kiss and his answering groan tells you all that you need to know about how into this he is. 

“You’re soaked.” 

You nod, head falling back and mouth dropping open as he pushes your panties aside and circles your swollen clit even faster. 

“Take these off.” 

You obey, sitting backwards and toeing your shoes off before sliding your pants off your legs. It’s cramped and clunky in the confined area of the car but Jake watches you like it’s still the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Your shirt is next, discarded carelessly into the floorboard as you paw at his own shirt, desperate to see more of him. Jake lifts his arms and pulls his short off, the fabric joining your clothes as well. 

No matter how many times you see him like this, you still can’t help but be amazed. He’s glorious before you, all milky skin and soft curves that make you want to bite him. His arms flex as he pushes his jeans down, the strength of his biceps and forearms the perfect balance to the rest of him. Without pausing long enough to think about it, you drop low and sink your teeth into the supple flesh of his side. 

He cries out in answer, arching his back and head falling back with a thud against the window. 

“Y/n. Fuck.” He whines and you take his moment of surprise to palm him through his boxers. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said he was hard as a rock. Even through the fabric you can feel the heavy heat of him. 

You trail your mouth down to the waistband, licking along the skin there before grabbing it with your teeth and pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You sink lower still, intent on enveloping him in the warmth of your mouth but he stops you with a hand in your hair. 

“Wait.” He sighs out breathlessly, causing your eyes to flick to his questioningly. “Not gonna last if you do that.” He grins sheepishly and you laugh. 

“Who’s desperate now?’’ You ask him, echoing back to his taunt from earlier. 

“It’s your fault.” 

With that, he sits up and surges forward, slamming his lips to yours again and pushing you backwards. He settles on top of you, his cock resting against your ass cheek. The movement had taken much effort, his drunken limbs just a little too clumsy for finesse and grace and you both laugh a little as you settle. Finally, he pulls your panties all the way down and you whine as the cool air hits your wet center. 

“Jesus.” He murmurs, those dark eyes of his devouring the sight of you beneath him. “Been waiting for this all night.” 

He sits upwards, gripping his cock in his fist as you spread your legs for him. The car is small, your back shoved into the corner and your head cocked at an odd angle. But none of it matters as he finally slides himself into you. You cry out, hands reaching out to grip his shoulders. His groan is deep and rough as he bottoms out and pauses, allowing you a moment to adjust to the familiar stretch of him. 

“Move.” You beg him, hooking your legs around his hips and using your heels to dig into his ass and pull him closer. 

He plants both hands on either side of you, fingers digging into the leather of the seats as he starts to rock his hips. His brows tip upwards and his eyes fall closed as you clench around him helplessly. 

“So fucking tight.” He slurs, hips snapping into yours deliciously. The air between the two of you is thick – humid and warm enough that the windows have begun to fog up completely. 

“Harder.” You whine and his body trembles and shakes as he tries to follow your command. 

His mouth drops open and a loud moan escapes him as he picks up his pace slightly. His arms tremble where they fight to keep himself up in this position and you giggle softly at him. 

“Switch with me before you fall over.” You urge him before tossing your head back with a moan as his cock brushes against that special spot inside of you. Even drunk off his ass he can still find it with ease. 

“Fine.” He huffs, pulling out of you and settling back into his earlier position with his back against the door. “Sorry.” He mumbles, giving you a drunken little grin. 

“S’okay.” You tell him, climbing over his thighs to straddle him. “Can watch you better this way anyway.” 

He preens a little at that, cheeks flushing a dark red as you grip is cock in your hand and guide the head to your entrance. You sink down and whine as this position allows him to slip even deeper into you than it had before.

You roll your hips and moans punch out of both of you. He always feels so fucking good – but having to wait so long for it tonight has only made it even more rewarding now. His hands grip your ass, kneading into the flesh and guiding your pace. His eyes are half lidden as he watches you and sweat begins to bead at his hairline. The look he’s giving you – hair a mess and mouth dropped open, is a familiar one. It’s one you’ve seen on his face countless times; both as he’s fucked you and as he plays his guitar on stage. It’s enough to have the coil in your belly begin to tighten already. 

“So fuck’n beautiful.” He moans lowly, his eyes pinned to where your tits bounce with each roll of your hips. 

You whine and lean downwards, kissing him roughly as his hips begin to thrust upwards to meet yours. You can tell that he’s losing it beneath you – his focus torn between trying to kiss you and trying to match the rhythm you’ve set. He’s pussy drunk and actually drunk and the thin bit of control he has left is starting to break. 

He uses his grip on your ass to guide you upwards, pressing your breasts into his face. His lips lock around one hard nipple as one hand comes up to palm the other one. He moans louder still, the sound muffled against your tit. The feel of him… he’s everywhere in this cramped car and all of your senses have been completely overtaken with just Jake. 

“Please.” He whines, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” 

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, his face contorting in pleasured agony as he holds himself back, waiting for you to finish first. You toss your head back and cry out, his cock hitting your sweet spot as you ride him into oblivion. The noises falling from him are barely human – rough and broken in a way that lets you know that he's completely overtaken with the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm finally hits you, seeming to start at your toes and work its way all the way through you. Your body shakes as you ride it out, walls fluttering and clenching around his cock. Your moans are only interrupted by cries of his name as he fucks you through it before finally your brain manages to come back to reality to take in the sight below you. 

Jake – drunk and fucked out with his eyes pleading up at you. 

“Gonna fucking cum, Y/n.” He thrusts up once, twice, three more times before he’s losing it. His head thrashes and curses fall from his lips like prayers. It goes on forever, his body tensed up and legs shaking on either side of you as he spills his release into you.

Finally, his body relaxes and stills. And his beautiful eyes blink open to look at you. A dopey and satiated smile spreads across his lips. You can feel his cock where it’s still inside you softening, but neither of you really want to move yet. 

“You’re so pretty.” He says with an alcohol-drenched smile. 

“And you’re still very drunk.” You giggle, kissing him softly. 

“I don’t have to be drunk to be able to see that you’re pretty.” He answers with a slight pout. Even inebriated he’s not going to let you run from a compliment. His ability to still recognize those little insecurities that you still have, no matter how much he’s had to drink, makes you smile softly down at him. 

“You’re pretty too.” 

He flushes and opens his mouth to retort but it’s cut off with a hiss as you pull off him. You reach down to grab your phone where it’s been discarded on the floorboard with yours and his clothes and the screen lights up enough to make you squint your eyes.

Two notifications await you. 

Josh 4:27AM

you guys okay? 

Josh 4:34AM

in my driveway?? :( 

You can’t help but laugh at the message before clicking your phone off. The windows have completely fogged up now so there's no denying your guilt to Josh.

As you turn back to face Jake, his eyes have closed and he looks almost asleep. 

“Hey.” You smack his chest and he startles, making you laugh even harder. “Get dressed so we can go home.” 

He groans and sits up, eyes looking glassy but still wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Round two once we get home?”

“If you can stay awake that long.”

“Challenge accepted.” 

--------

If you would like to be added to my taglist you can find it here

tags:

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@writingcold

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@ohgodthefeeling-gvf

@wildbluesorbit

@twistedmelodies

@neverwanttofallasleep

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@smoking-jakelane

@gvfmelbourne

@stardust-chordsss

[chelseeebe]

just wanna (get with you).

okkkk i promise i am not neglecting promise (i am) but i just had to get this out before the thought left my mind. this is just to say nancy wheeler i love you and i’m sorry

18+. smut. steve is an adulterer. but it’s okieee bc it’s hot <3

this is very much richboy!steve, he is very cocky and brash and very much not afraid of it

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

you had prepared to spend thanksgiving break alone in your room, honestly quite happy not to have to go home and deal with your car crash of a family.

that was until stacy had caught wind of your lonely plans and interjected, offering you an invite to her family’s massive home. now, it’d be rude not to accept, right?

you totally weren’t influenced by the fact that her older brother would definitely be there, not at all.

the drive up was a long slog, hours until you ended up in the middle of buttfuck indiana. it’s not somewhere you ever envisioned yourself spending the holidays but she had ensured that it was nice enough. her parents were.. interesting but as you were there, they’d probably at least try to keep up appearances. there wasn’t much else going on but in this tiny town but it gave you a chance to relax and ogle her brother.

their house is huge, like, ridiculously big. much bigger than their small family needed. from what stacy has confided in you, you can gather that her parents are hardly even home. they like to make a big deal about holidays to give the impression of a well put together family but if anything, they’re on the brink of divorce and only holding it together for the fear of being seen as failures.

not that your family are much better, but at least they don’t pretend to like eachother.

steve is up at the door the moment stacy unlocks it, waiting to see which of her sorority friends she’d decided to bring along.

he grins the second he sees you, taking your bag out of your hand and introducing himself before you can even begin to speak. not that you mind.

‘leave her alone, steve,’ stacy warns, rolling her eyes as she begins up the stairs, motioning for you to follow.

‘why don’t you leave me alone? i’m just being a good host, isn’t that right?’ he smiles at you, lugging your bag up the extravagant staircase and toward the room you’ve been assigned.

it’s not as if there’s a lack of them, a multitude of white doors that probably sat empty. it’s incredible how a house could cost so much and yet lack character despite the ample space to decorate.

she shoves him out of the way the second you make it into the room, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘uh uh,’ he’s smirking now and it’s making your heart feel funny. it’s wrong, totally wrong. but you can’t help it.

when he’d appeared on move in day you’d been star struck, his caramel coloured hair flopping into his eyes and the way his t-shirt clung to his arms had caught you immediately.

you and the rest of the girls in the house, obviously.

‘well go and find something to do you fucking loser,’ pushing him out of the door and slamming it in his face.

you couldn’t exactly tell her that it was fine and actually you preferred if he stayed.. so you grin and give her a fake chuckle, looking around at the room you were to call home for the next week.

‘i’m sorry,’ she sighs, ‘ignore him.. he’s just like that,’ walking over to the pristine bed. it obviously hadn’t been slept in for a while, you don’t doubt that they rarely have guests.

‘it’s okay,’ you smile, exhilarated for what this week will bring.

-

you don’t see much of the illusive mr. harrington, burrowed away in his office for most of the day with his wife busying around the kitchen, putting on an unnecessarily large spread each day. now you’re not a psychologist but even you can gather that she’s trying to make up for something.

stacy had bundled you into her room under the pretence of studying, both of you sat on her bed with neglected open books. opting to gossip about shit in your house rather than the looming finals.

steve knocks on the door and rushes in without waiting, standing in the doorway with a devilish grin. ‘mom’s drunk again.. you two wanna get out of here before it gets ugly?’ leaning against the doorframe.

he looks extra good today, his grey sweatpants sitting just right. you’re mindful to pull your eyes away when he nears the bed though his eyes never leave you.

‘like what?’ stacy frowns, sitting up and closing the untouched book.

‘i dunno..’ he shrugs, ‘i just don’t wanna be here when he gets back and she’s drunk again,’ fiddling with some trinket on stacy’s shelf.

you can tell that stacy’s not keen on the idea but she doesn’t want to be here for that scene either. you can empathise entirely, which is the exact reason you decided not to go home.

‘okay,’ she turns to you, ‘you okay with that?’

‘yeah.. sounds good,’ smiling at your friend. in your peripheral, you can see steve’s lips twitch into a smirk, cocky bastard.

much to your dismay, the three of you end up bowling. which you wouldn’t usually mind, but the alley was full to the brim with parents and their screaming children, running around the lanes hyped up on copious amounts of sugar.

not to mention the blaring christmas music that was entirely too loud for a tuesday afternoon.

‘you bowl much?’ steve scoots over on the bench, leaning in to whisper of the screeching kids.

‘not really,’ shaking your head innocently, ‘do you?’

‘yeah i’m alright.. i can teach you, if you want?’ ever the opportunist. who were you to deny him that?

‘okay,’ you giggle, blinking up at his chocolate coloured eyes.

it’s pathetic but your knees almost crumble when he walks up behind you, arms coming to envelope yours, large hands perched over yours as stacy tuts and turns away.

‘like this..’ his chest presses against your back, pulling your arm back and letting the ball roll down the lane.

you very nearly groan when he pulls away, hand lingering on your elbow as the pair of you watch the pins knock over. he smiles gently at you without even looking at the pins, he’s already sure he’d won.

‘thanks,’ you nod, keeping your own smile contained as you walk back to the bench, squishing in next to a less than impressed stacy. she’s not stupid but doesn’t dare to say anything and you’re grateful for that at least.

you watch steve take his turn, wondering how much longer you can feign incompetence to get him to touch you.

-

their house is quiet when you get back. eerily quiet. stacy and steve share a look before heading inside and you already know to prepare for the worst.

mr. harrington is sat facing the blank television, sipping on a small glass of what you presume is whiskey. the fire blazing in front of him, crackling loudly in the otherwise silent house.

‘your mother’s in bed,’ is all he says, refusing to turn around to face his children. he’s a stoic man at the best of times but seemed extra cold tonight. you don’t want to think about what had happened while you were out.

the atmosphere brings you crashing down out of your high, the loud bowling alley seemed like a dream compared to the moody room you stood in. at least your family were entertaining in all their madness. this was just depressing and you don’t have to wonder just why stacy is the way she is now.

steve slinks off upstairs without saying a word and stacy follows, head ducked down. they’ve probably been through this exact routine a hundred times before. you follow along silently, assuming that mr. harrington definitely didn’t want you hanging around downstairs.

before stacy slips away into her room, you grab onto her elbow, pulling her round to face you, ‘my mom drinks too.. i know what it’s like,’ offering some meek words of encouragement. it’s not a lot but you can empathise with the sinking feeling you know she’s feeling.

she gives you a small smile, pulling you in for a quick hug as the shower starts in the bathroom to your left. steve hadn’t hung around, disappearing before you even made it up the stairs.

‘night,’ you mutter before entering your own room.

there had been a tiny part of you that had hoped maybe tonight something would happen but with the scene downstairs and steve’s eagerness to get away, you doubt it.

-

there’s an almost silent knock at your door, if you were any sleepier, you would’ve missed it.

you know who it is.. what’s waiting on the other side of that door and for a second, you contemplate it. you could very easily turn over and drift off to sleep without ever finding out what could’ve been.. but, you’re not going to do that. not after you’d optimistically worn your best pajamas, dousing yourself in perfume before you had climbed into bed.

sliding out of the bed to open the door quietly and just as you expected, steve is on the other side with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

he doesn’t speak before stepping into the room, shutting the door gently as you stand expectantly before him. your heart is pounding, it’d jump out of your chest if it could.

‘steve,’ you barely whisper, ignoring the growing ache between your thighs. enthralled by the sheer tension in the room, it makes the air heavy, weighing on your shoulders as you practically pant at him.

in one quick move he’s stood in front of you, hands cradling your waist, confidence oozing off of his smile. his hair is still wet, falling onto his face perfectly. it’s almost cruel that someone could look so good so effortlessly.

‘i need you,’ he whispers, his spider-like lashes cascading a shadow over his face in the dull light. he’s so perfect it hurts.

you choose not to reply with words, hastily planting your lips on his, closing the minuscule gap between your bodies as your chest presses to his. you’re walked backwards towards the bed, the excitement is palpable, his hands barely able to contain themselves as they grip and squeeze your flesh.

steve falls backwards onto the bed, pulling you atop of him, clumsily readjusting your knees either side of his hips, gasping into his slack mouth when his grinds upwards, his already erect cock nudging against your core.

pulling your shirt over your head before reconnecting his lips to your jaw, planting hungry kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. this is everything you’ve dreamed of since you arrived, the feel of him desperately moving beneath you becoming entirely too much. you needed him now.

he shimmies his own sweatpants down his thighs, choosing boldly to not wear any underwear. he’s big. his cock springing up against his stomach, gazing down into the space between you, mouth hung open as he works your shorts down with his delicate fingers.

‘what?’ he hushes innocently as if he doesn’t already know. his hand leaves your thigh to wrap around the base of his dick, pumping his fist ever so slowly.

your eyes meet his again, feeling your cheeks flush as the corner of his mouth twitches. if he weren’t so hot, his cockiness would be sickening. but you’re not one to bend to the will of men, brushing off his nerve and instead moving to grip onto his shoulders, positioning yourself above his leaking cock.

‘i know what you sorority girls are like.. you don’t have to- fuck,’ his head rolling back as you lower yourself onto him, gasping quietly at the feeling of fullness that quickly overtakes every other sense.

your fingers clamp around his jaw, pulling his face back up to meet yours, ‘what was that?’ sighing through muffled moans as you begin to rut your hips.

you have him at your mercy, moving your hips antagonistically slow, relishing in the sight of his hooded eyes struggling to stay open, soft pants escaping his lips with every careful movement.

‘ho- shit,’ his fingernails leaving crescent moons into your hips and ass, desperate to cling onto your body in any way he can. guiding your body up and down with the palms of his hands.

‘shh,’ you mutter, connecting your lips to the corner of his mouth in an attempt to quiet his groans. as lavish as this house is, you can bet that it’s not soundproof.

‘you’re so.. fuck- faster baby,’ he whines into your mouth, unappreciative of the calm pace you had set. enjoying the fact that you now held the upper hand, but also acutely aware that the sounds of skin-on-skin are indisputable, paired with his grunts, you’d be caught out in a second.

‘nuhuh,’ shaking your head slightly, face pressed into his sharp jaw, hoping to stifle some of the noises come from your throat.

this is when steve decides he’s had enough, this was his house and if anyone had anything to say then they could. his arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place above him as his legs spread, heels digging into the mattress.

your lips connect once again, in a sloppy kiss that requires minimal effort as his hips begin to thrust up, punching against that soft, spongy spot deep within. and now you’re the one responsible for the too-loud moans, practically screaming into his mouth as his tongue slips into your open mouth. his smirk evident against your lips as his thrusts grow faster.

chasing the same high you can feel growing in the pits of your stomach. you’re not even kissing at this point, lips pressed against the stubble on his cheek as his grip tightens, low grunts rumbling into the minimal space between you with every thrust.

‘oh god,’ you mewl, the all too familiar twist in your gut as his hips begin to stutter, the sound of your bodies connecting was spurring both of you on. not caring about your volume level as you come crashing over the edge.

babbling his name over and over again as you clench around him, shoving your face into his neck as pleasure soars all the way down to your toes, the sensation overwhelming your poor fucked-out brain.

his hands paw at the doughy flesh of your ass, resigning his last bit of energy for his last thrusts, hot spurts of cum paint your walls. steve’s teeth graze against your bare shoulder, suppressing his almighty moan as you collapse into a heap on top of him.

you feel like jelly, unable to lift your head when he pulls out, allowing him to manhandle your body as he shuffles down the bed. you shift slightly, moving to the empty space beside him, reaching down for the blanket, desperate for some modesty despite the explicit scene this room had just witnessed.

that was everything you’d imagined it’d be and more.

‘jesus,’ he sniffs, relaxing into your bed as if he belonged there, ‘anyone ever told you how fucking good you feel?’ his arm reaching out to pull your body into his once more.

‘shut up,’ you mumble, still very much coming back to earth. trying not to get too comfortable with this arrangement but letting your leg slide between his.

his other hand flicks the tiny lamp off, leaving the room in complete darkness. toned arms coming to rest around your waist, chin resting against your head.

‘you can’t sleep in here,’ you warn, though you wouldn’t complain if he did.

‘why not? this is my house, i can sleep wherever i want,’ his fingertips dart around your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you don’t argue, settling into your comfy position nestled into his side. it’s not long before sleep takes over as his fingers trace silly patterns into your back.

-

but you’re rudely awoken at stupid o’clock in the morning, the sun barely rising outside of the tiny window. steve’s grumbling, tapping softly on your shoulder.

‘i’ve gotta go,’ he whispers into your hair, pulling the blanket off of his body and onto yours.

you’re barely coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, nodding along absentmindedly as sleep negs to take over again. ever the gentleman, he places a kiss to your forehead before climbing out of bed and rushing out of the room.

he’s gone before you even wake up fully, not registering what had happened until you wake up again, this time at a more appropriate hour.

it’s only then that fear takes over. had you misjudged how loud you were? what if someone had heard? there’s no way they’d turf you out on thanksgiving.. would they?

yet all seems normal when you slink downstairs, joining stacy at the table as she butters toast without a word to be said about your antics. you pray to every being above that you had gone undetected.

‘morning sleepyhead,’ stacy utters, seemingly in a much better mood than the one you left her in last night, ‘sleep well?’

you stare at her for a moment, deciding if the question is loaded or if she’s genuinely interested in how you slept.

‘yeah.. really good, you?’ testing the waters.

‘yeah not bad,’ she smiles, a genuine smile that allows you to release the breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

phew. you were safe.

‘it’s about to get uh.. tense today so, we can just hang out in my room until dinner,’ she nods assuringly. you trust her, not wanting to bare witness to mr. harrington and his cryptic behaviour.

before you can reply, the front door opens and a small brunette walks in with steve trailing closely. behind her, carrying what looks like a suitcase with the most displeased look plastered on his face.

the woman hangs her coat on the hook, flashing a quick wave towards the kitchen where you sat gawping before heading upstairs quickly.

from here, she looked like a cousin or something, someone you hadn’t been told was attending.

she’s pretty, gorgeous eyes and a polite smile that makes you want to smile.

‘who’s that?’ you ask, perplexed at the sight of this stranger who is obviously so comfortable in their home.

‘oh, that’s nancy,’ stacy continues with her toast, not at all bothered by the new arrival.

‘she’s steve’s fiancée.’

[sgiandubh]

2023 or last week

That's not really matters', what is interesting is that Caitríona has a very high level of privacy in her movements or travels

She has a private life that is completely away from notice and attention, no press, no ordinary people, no fan who meets her by chance

Wow.. as if she had the invisibility power since 2019.

Dear Privacy Level Anon,

We're going to do things a bit differently, this time, with an audio answer. Nice to meet you, by the way:

For those who need a transcript, here goes:

'Your charade has very simple answers:

No Press? The Press would have to actually care or be sold a juicy tip/story, about that elusive B-lister who is such a compelling Claire Fraser (huh?) from Outlander ('wait a minute, that nice, secksay series around 2016, right?'). Press interest is, however, likely to immediately jump up, the minute she lands a better PR team and/or a part in a really relevant cinema project. Let's see what those two next movies bring, Anon.

No Ordinary People? Imagine you're Jane Doe (aka, an Ordinary Person), traveling from 🛫 London to 🛬Bangkok. Upon arrival at 🏯Suvarnabhumi Airport , while waiting in line for the notoriously looooong passport control (full profile pic included), you spot C (or S, or C and S, or C and S and Boos 1, 2, 3... 554). They vaguely remind you of someone. That someone could be anyone from a) your cousin Matilda's co-worker you have been briefly introduced to, three years ago; b) someone who looks like your homeland's host of 'Who Wants To Be a Millionaire' TV show (totally random example, here); c) someone who looks like that actress you once saw in that TV series which name you can't really remember. Ultimately, the fact that you are unable to put a name on that face really irritates you. Your feet hurt, you are sleepy, grumpy and you need to go to the bathroom ASAP (🚨🚨🚨🚨). Meanwhile, S and C kiss, Boo #456 is as unhappy as you and wants his blankie. Did I mention you need to use the 🚻 (somewhere far away from 🛃) ASAP? S and C 💋💋💋💋 some more. YOU NEED TO USE THAT TOILET AND YOU'RE STUCK IN THAT STUPID LINE. Boo #433 wants their mommy's attention NOW (🥹🍼🤦‍♀️), so you sympathize a bit ('what a cute 👶, just like his/her parents') but you are really focused on your 🧻problem. By the time you dragged your 🧳to the 🚕 area, in the thick, humid heat at Arrivals, you'd have forgotten everything about it, but remember every single second of your Passport Control Ordeal.

No Fan? Outside of these Tumblr/X/Instagram jihadist pockets, no casual 🪭 would probably ask for a pic, provided they remember the name of the series (it is really poor taste to go for it and candidly tell her/them something like ' oooh, I remember you from The Last Kingdom, such a wonderful series'). Out of those who still go for it, I bet the farm:

85% keep The Nice Pic tucked in their iPhones and just randomly share at the next school bake sale/corporate teambuilding/ Rotary Club meeting with random people saying random things like 'oooh, she's nice, wait a minute, wasn't she in The Last Kingdom'?

10% foolishly post on X or Instagram, to be immediately greeted by The Fandom Vigilantes, courtesy of alerts installed on their own iPhones: 'where was it/ when was it/was she alone/yes? why?/no? why and with whom/ what did she say/ did she say anything/ why didn't she say anything'. If, by a very probable misfortune, what you have to dish out does not click with the Greeting Committee's agenda, expect to be: a) treated like a 5 year old idiot or a tortured POW ('was she alone...? was she alone...? are you sure she wasn't alone...? ARE YOU SURE SHE WASN'T ALONE? ANSWER ME, WAS SHE ALONE?'); b) Caitsplained she is married to someone else and what you saw is an optical illusion; c) perhaps even forced to adjust your own narrative (maybe that 6′ 3" Viking was Tony McGill, after all? 😵). You immediately regret posting it on your public Social Media accounts, erase the pic and go private. By the time you do it (12 hours from posting), it would have been dutifully screencapped, in a middle of a full blown Fandom Skirmish.

5% know what Tumblr actually is (at a minimum) and/or are actively involved in its Fandom Subset. The minute they post is the start of just another Nagasaki episode. The DM inbox will explode with a rich array of pleas/insults/more Caitsplaining. Comments will range from the ecstatic to the revoltingly vulgar. And remember (LOL for weeks):

The Fandom will eventually never forgive you for sharing.'

[growth-crazy-girl]

Extreme Slime Expansion

Warning: Extreme Rapid Weight Gain Fantasy Scenario 😜

Ok I normally don’t do long form writing, but I wanted to put this somewhere lol. One of my biggest fantasies is myself being a slime girl with the ability to pump up humans with my slime. I’m not into NC so only if willing, but I’d wanna pump up a skinny girl hundreds and hundreds of pounds in a matter of minutes, and then some 🤤

I’d start by thickening her up all around, watching her skinny thighs fill out, her rear showing more definition, her breasts slowly becoming fuller and rounder, the rest of her body developing a layer of supple fat. My slime works as a biological imitator, so my cells instantly mutate to whatever host cells I want to replicate. In other words, her body is genuinely gaining all of this weight, and I can mold her in any way I want

First I’d concentrate my slime straight to her lower half. Rapidly her hips widen, her thighs thicken, her cheeks swell with pounds and pounds of fat and flesh, and her skin keeps up the pace, the volume and surface area of her ass increase exponentially. I push her up against the mirror so she can see how bottom heavy she’s becoming, going from “thick” to “bbw pear” to “cartoon mom” and beyond, dense fat packed into her hips and thighs and enormous cheeks

Next I’d focus on her belly, slime pumping into her pound after pound until her gut sprawls out before her, love handles turning into dense fat rolls, belly button swelling up on all sides and getting deep. I grab her hanging belly as it sags lower and jiggle it around. Still though it’s stuffed so full of fat and adipose that it extends out straight in front of her, and she moans feeling the vibrations jiggle through hundreds of pounds of new tissue across her body

Suddenly her boobs explode outward in size as I finally concentrate my full power on them, surging with glutted fat and newfound breast tissue. Rivers of slime can be heard forcibly gushing their way into the now ocean of titmeat. Of course I have to force a ton of slime into her nipples as well, swelling them up huge and hard, the size of an average girl’s dildo. Each boob rolls to the side of her gut, still riding as firm on her chest as possible at this size

As she blows through the entire alphabet of bra sizes and into the unknown, I can’t help but squeeze a few dozen collective pounds into fattening her fupa and entire vulva, giving her a wobbling, gravid pussy bigger than her head, and a clit bigger than a soup bowl

She must be, what, 600-700 pounds now? I can only imagine the mixture of fear and excitement she’d be feeling, knowing she let me make her as big as I wanted. Surely we must be done right? She can’t even see the mirror anymore! Little does she know we’re just getting started…

I broadened my slime flow to the rest of her body and begin pumping. Her only request was to maintain some semblance of mobility, and I planned to happily oblige.

Too much weight to carry? Slime poured into her muscles to beef them up, and she modifies her stance to accommodate the enormous amount of new muscle needed to keep her mountainous ass cheeks lofty and firm, to keep her legs from buckling under the sheer weight. Not enough structural integrity? Slime reinforces her bones, strengthens her joints and ligaments, adding even more fat and skin in the right places to maintain balance. Heart going to stop from pure insane obesity? The chambers of her heart suck up my slime like a sponge, becoming like biological steel. I’ll shape and mold her body in any way necessary to maintain every bodily function, maintain some human resemblance…. All so she can take more.

More fat. More slime. MORE.

I finally realize that she’s going to need more height and a larger frame overall or else the laws of physics will catch up with us, and so the massive pile of woman begins growing up as well as out in every direction.

Awww but now she’s not visibly getting much bigger! 20 pounds a second looks like nothing on her, and that’s no fun 😏 So I take a deep breath, enter her every remaining orifice, and make one final push

*GLUUUUUURGLRGLRGLRGLRG*

Her body sounds like a fire hydrant in reverse as hundreds of gallons of slime force there way into her mountainous form, instantly turning into flesh and bone and fat. Soooo much fat.

Finally I stop when I hit that magical number- 2000lbs. I can’t wait to tease her, “you literally weigh a ton, you’re literally as big as an elephant, it might take some getting used to, but you can walk waddle short distances!”

I stepped back to admire my handiwork. This gigantic blob of a once skinny woman had me drooling over her every roll and curve. I was particularly proud of her gargantuan ass cheeks that were each the size of a refrigerator, and yet miraculously didn’t touch the ground, instead perpetually wobbling and jiggling acting as a counterweight to the insane amount of flesh forced into her boobs, belly, and pussy.

“MMMMMMMMMM” I heard her moan as she tried to lean forward to rest on her boulder of a belly, “I’m soooooo hungryyyyyy”

I stood behind her, admiring that I could now see her enormous blubbery vulva, glistening and dripping as a testament to how horny and sensitive I’d made her

“Me too babe, me too 🥵🤤😋”

***Dont expect long form written content or stories from me like this in the future, this is a super rare occurrence 😜😜😜

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The Beggar's Door: A Retelling of "King Thrushbeard"

Oh, yes, King Gregor had a temper, but in this case, it was more than justified. You see, the king had gone through all the expense of hosting an enormous ball so every eligible suitor on the continent could vie for the hand of Princess Dulcibella, and what do you think she did? Not smile and curtsey and thank them for the honor, that’s for sure. She rejected every man to his face! And not politely! The princess had a tongue like a whip, and she scourged those high and mighty men with every insult you can imagine before declaring she would have none of them as a husband. Some of them were on the verge of declaring war.

So none of us were surprised when King Gregor, in a towering rage, summoned Princess Dulcibella to the throne room the next morning.

Princess Dulcibella was a beautiful maid—fair and willowy—and she walked toward her father with as dainty a step and as innocent an air as any woman who ever lived, humming a traveling minstrel’s tune.

“Daughter,” the king declared. “I have brought you here to meet your husband.”

The princess stopped humming. “Tradition states that a crown princess may choose her own husband.”

“Tradition also states that if the princess refuses all her suitors, she is wed to the first man to come into the king’s presence.”

Princess Dulcibella’s lovely face paled. “You would not be so barbaric.”

“You have left me no other choice.” The king pointed to the grand doors through which the princess had entered—the only entrance that had been left unbarred. “Your husband—the man of my choosing—will enter through that door at the stroke of ten.”

Everyone knew who that would be—Baldric of Eldria, a brute and bore (and, some said, a usurper), but king of the wealthiest nation on the continent.

At his words, a door opened—but not the great door.

In a shadowed corner of the throne room, a forgotten, barely visible door swung open on rusted hinges.

The king whirled upon his chamberlain. “I said all the doors were to be barred!”

The chamberlain was deathly pale. “Tradition states that the beggar’s door can never be barred.”

An old tradition, the beggar’s door, one that said the poor must be able to approach their king for help in desperate need, or else the kingdom would fall. No one had used the door in generations—but the door had remained open.

Through that door came a ragged young man, tattered shoes on his feet and a lute on his back. With a smile, he bowed to the princess, as graceful as any courtier.

“My king and my lady,” he said. “If you can spare a coin for a starving minstrel, I would be glad to repay your kindness with a song.”

He had charm, that ragged clown, and probably a nice face somewhere under the layer of dirt.

Princess Dulcibella smiled upon him—men had crossed continents for that smile—and, in the sight of a stunned crowd in the throne room, the minstrel began to sing.

O, come away, my fine young maiden Though I’ve no place to call my own We’ll wander through the wooded valleys And make the wild world our home

You know the song, but you’ve never heard it as he sang it. He had a voice like love itself come to life—as if he’d come a-purpose for wooing. We all were spellbound. The princess was enchanted.

He sang a verse or ten, and when the song finally faded, the king was the first to remember the purpose of the day. For all the unexpected happenings, he hadn’t forgotten his rage. He’d lost his chance at an alliance, but his revenge upon an ungrateful daughter was still within reach.

“Minstrel,” he declared. “You’ve won more than a coin. According to tradition, you have my daughter as bride to wed.”

The priest emerged from behind the throne—intended for a far more royal wedding. In the sight of us all, the princess and the beggar were bound as man and wife.

“Now, be gone from my house!” the king declared. “You’re a beggar’s wife, now, and can have no place here.”

Dulcibella was stripped of her finery, but somehow she didn’t seem to mind.

The minstrel took her in his arms and carried her out the beggar’s door—gazing upon each other with as much devotion as if they were any ordinary pair of lovers.

With that, they disappeared. I’ve not seen either of them again.

But I’ve heard stories.

Dulcibella was clever, you see, and her maids tell stories of a minstrel who would sing near her window on moonlit nights.

Some say she told him of the beggar’s door.

Some even say that the minstrel was no minstrel at all, but young King Alaric, cast down from the throne of Eldria, living in exile until he can reclaim his throne.

I don’t know what to believe, but I like to believe she’s happy as a beggar’s wife, and I believe there’s no better woman to someday take a place as queen.

King Baldric had better take care.

[adrienneleclerc]

Do you think you can do a Lewis Hamilton imagine

When Y/N is at a New Year's party because her friend dragged her along and she just got out of a really long relationship and Lewis is also there and he sees her across the room all sad and alone so he walks up behind her and grabs her shoulders turn her around and kisses her and walks away without saying nothing and she doesn't know Lewis is a driver and Lewis doesn't know that she's a famous photographer and they meet maybe a few years later or later month whatever you want to do and F1 gives her a job to be a photographer for them

Oh and I want a cute fluffy ending if you can do that thank you so much xoxo

Oh and can you make Y/N Mexican

As a Mexican myself, a Mexican Y/N should be easy to write, sorry it took me so long to write this. My wifi went out when I tried to save this. I don’t know if this is what you had in mind but I hope you like it!

Once Upon a Kiss

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Mexican!Reader

Summary: Famous photographer, Y/N L/N, and Formula 1 driver, Lewis Hamilton, kiss at a New Year’s Eve party without knowing anything about the other. Their paths cross once again when Y/N is hired as Ferrari’s new photographer.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: MY FIRST LEWIS HAMILTON FANFIC TO CELEBRATE HIS HOME RACE WIN!!! Also I do mention a stereotype where Puerto Rican men are trash

Y/N was in her apartment watching her favorite movie and eating ice cream in a Stitch onesie. She then heard the door open, her friend Ofelia entered the apartment with takeout.

“No, no, uh uh, there’s no way in hell you’re eating ice cream right now, I got us Chinese food.” Ofelia said.

“Great, put it on the counter,” Y/N mumbled.

“Why are you in a stitch onesie? It’s only 8pm.” Ofelia said.

“Because I wanted to. Did you get the chicken wings and pork fried rice plus my chicken broccoli and white rice?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, why do you need 2 orders?” Ofelia asked.

“One for today, the other for tomorrow, obviously.” Y/N said.

“Anyway, we have a party later tonight.” Ofelia said.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Y/N asked pointing between them.

“You and me, we’re getting super dressed up and going to a rooftop party.” Ofelia said.

“Who’s hosting?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, a friend of a friend of a friend.” Ofelia said,

“We’re going to a rooftop party in New York City in the middle of winter?” Y/N asked.

“They have those heating lamp thingies. Come on, it’ll be fun, take your mind off of Derek.” Ofelia said.

“Don’t mention Derek.” Y/N groaned, opening up her takeout container to start eating.

“You see, I haven’t to mention it because you can’t stop thinking about him.” Ofelia said.

“De que hablas? I haven’t thought about ese cabrón mal parido in a minute.” Y/N said. Ofelia silently counted down from 3. “The audacity ese hijo de su madre had to cheat on me.”

“I mean what did you expect, Y/N, he’s Puerto Rican.” Ofelia said.

“But we’ve been together for 8 years, I just don't undertsand what i did wrong." Y/N said.

“No, no, no, no, you did absolutely nothing wrong, guys like him only cvare about getting their dick wet, thats it. Anyway, eat and then get dressed. Actually shower first, outfit, hair, makeup, that party is gonna be amazing! Apparently the guy who’s hosting lives in a penthouse.” Ofelia said.

"Sounds fun." Y/N said.

"I've also been sending your portfolio to my bosses..." Ofelia started

"Lia, don't. I told you i was going to look for photography work myself." Y/N said.

"But everyone is DYING to work with you, imagine taking photos for Elle, Cosmo, Vanity Fair, they love your work." Ofelia said.

"What if I want to work somewhere else, outside of New York?" Y/N asked.

"I can live with that, just please don't go to Jersey." Ofelia said (sorry if you live in New Jersey, its just a very New York thing to shit on Jersey)

"Deal." Y/N said.

Hours later, Y/N was showered, hair was done, makeup was perfect, and the outfit was giving 90s supermodel, SHE was givng 90's supermodel. Ofelia was sitting on the couch when Y/N came out.

“Aahh, you look AMAZING, okay, lets go, I have the invitation and I’m so happy his building has parking.” Ofelia said.

Girls showed ID and invitation to the doorman and bouncer when entering the building and accessing the rooftop.

“Wow, this party looks lit.” Ofelia said.

“Yeah, it does. I wonder how they got the heat lamps up here.” Y/N said. Ofelia was looking around until she saw her friend.

“Oh my god, hey! I saw my friend from work, I’ll see you later, okay.” Ofelia said walking away

“You can’t just leave me here!” Y/N tried shouting but Ofelia wasn’t within hearing range. “Great.” While Y/N was just observing the party, keeping to herself, Lewis Hamilton was by the DJ booth, hyping up the party.

“Make some noise, NYC!” Lewis said and everyone cheered, but he saw a woman by herself who didn’t cheer at all. He thought she looked quite beautiful, even under the low light. “Hey man, I’ll be right back.”

“Alright, I’m gonna start the countdown in a few.” His DJ friend said. Lewis nodded, dapping up the DJ before getting down from the stand to look for the woman he spotted. It took a while for Lewis to find her since she was moving too, looking for her friend, but she eventually stopped at the table where there were chips and drinks. The DJ started counting down to midnight, Lewis was standing near Y/N but didn’t make a move.

“Happy New Year!” Everyone shouted, Lewis turned Y/N and kissed her, walking away after they pulled away. Y/N stared at him when we walked away, he looked so familiar. Y/N felt someone else grab her shoulders.

“Y/N, you got a New Years kiss, from who?” Ofelia asked.

“I have no idea, but he was a good kisser, I’ll tell you that much.” Y/N said,

6 weeks later, Y/N was on her computer reviewing her emails and she screamed. Ofelia came running out with a baseball bat.

“What happened? Is it the rat again?” Ofelia asked

“What? No, I got an email from Scuderia Ferrari.” Y/N said.

“The Formula 1 team? You don’t even watch the sport, why the hell did you apply?” Ofelia asked.

“Well i have always wanted to travel, apparently F1 drivers travel ALL THE TIME, this is in Maranello, Italy, I always wanted to go…” Y/N said,

“You don’t speak Italian.” Ofelia said,

“I’m learning, chingada madre, will you let me finish?” Y/N asked. Ofelia nodded her head. “Anyway, Scuderia Ferrari are looking for a new photographer, I’ve seen the posts they made on Instagram, my photography style is very similar, I’m sure the person in charge wouldn’t want the Instagram page to lose the ‘essence’ of Ferrari so looks like I’m their new photographer. Ah, I am so excited! I start in a few weeks, they have emailed me my plane ticket for the following week, even temporary housing until I can get a proper place and a company car (unrealistic but it seems nice).”

“Wow, the people at Ferrari are very generous. I’ll help you pack.” Ofelia said.

2 weeks later, Y/N arrived at the Italian airport, was greeted by a Ferrari employee, and was taken to her furnished apartment. Y/N called Ofelia and showed her the view and everything. Y/N hung up, got her camera, and walked outside her apartment for a little while to take pictures of everything until she got a call from her boss.

“Hey Mr. Vasseur, how are you?” Y/N asked.

“I’m doing well, have you settled in?” Fred asked.

“I have, thank you for asking. To what do I owe your call?” Y/N asked.

“My drivers landed in Maranello today, do you think you can come to headquarters tomorrow?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, you bet, see you then.” Y/N said.

The next day, Y/N was entering the Scuderia Ferrari Base in jeans, white button up blouse, sneakers, and a Ferrari cap because of the sun. She was greeted by Fred.

“Y/N, so nice to meet you in person, how was the drive?” Fred asked.

“Very good, thank you so much for the car. What am I supposed to take pictures of?” Y/N asked.

“Well Hamilton and Leclerc are training on the sim because we have the Australian Grand Prix in 2 weeks. Come, I’ll introduce you to them.” Fred said, leading Y/N to the training room where they have the racing simulator.

“Ha, I beat your time!” Lewis said.

“Yeah, it won’t happen again, mate.” Charles said. Fred then cleared his throat, causing the drivers to stand up.

“Gentleman, this is…” Fred started

“No way, you’re Y/N L/N, I bought some of your photos from a New York gallery, you’re very talented.” Charles said, shaking her hand.

“Oh thank you so much, I was wondering who paid so much money for my photos.” Y/N chuckled, she turned to look at Lewis, they stared at each other until Y/N held out her hand for Lewis to take it. “Okay so do whatever it is that you were doing to I can take some photos. So go on the simulator, talk, do whatever.”

“What kind of photographer are you?” Lewis asked.

“Well, i Don’t specialize in anything if that’s what you’re asking. I have taken landscape photos, I’ve been a photographer on a vogue photo shoot, taken runway photos, even photos of animals. So I’m an…everything photographer.” Y/N said. “Again, do whatever is natural, im sure your fans will love to see you guys bonding now that you’re teammates.”

Y/N took photos of them talking, being on the sim, even some of them just walking around the Ferrari base.

“Okay so I think I got some pretty good shots, you can check it out before I show Fred.” Y/N said. She connected her camera to her laptop so the drivers could see the photos better.

“These are really good, Charles was right, you’re very talented.” Lewis said.

“Why thank you. What about you, charles? Are my photos to your liking?” Y/N asked.

“Yes they are, I never doubted it.” Charles said. Charles left Lewis and Y/N alone so he could change out of his Ferrari clothes.

“You recognize me, don’t you?” Lewis asked.

“How could I forget the man who gave me a new years kiss. I thought I’d never see you again, kinda made it up in my head that you were a secret agent or something.” Y/N said, Lewis laughed.

“Sadly no, I’m just a formula 1 driver. I’m surprised you didn’t know who I was at the party since it was my party.” Lewis said.

“You were the host my friend was talking about! The one with the penthouse, no fucking way. Also, Mr. Billion Dollar Man, you didn’t recognize me either, you were the one who kissed me, meaning you spotted me first, prior to our kiss, and charles knew who I was right away.” Y/N said,

“True. But why were you by yourself? You looked sad, did something happen?” Lewis asked.

“Well my boyfriend of 8 years cheated on me, my friend dragged me to a party and then went off to see the friend who invited her, so yeah, that’s what happened.” Y/N said.

“Who could possibly cheat on you? You seem so sweet” Lewis said.

“Thank you, but you Don’t know me.” Y/N said.

“How about we change that. You want to go out for lunch?” Lewis asked.

“I would love to.” Y/N said.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[ioniansunsets]

heartsteel christmas dinner 👉👈 who brings what? i can picture Sett staying in the kitchen to prepare ham/turkey 🥰🥰

✖ Heartsteel Celebrating Christmas with You ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.1k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: You host a Xmas party with your partner uwu (posting this early so maybe if you guys like this I’ll write another quick one for the afterparty and gift opening?)

----

Sett was the best person to celebrate with. Mama taught him well, he was there early in the morning, hells, he stayed over the night before. Up before the sun even rose, the two of you spent time lovingly together in the kitchen. Waking up early with Sett kissing the tip of your nose and carrying you to the toilet to freshen up. Trying to keep you awake as he holds your hand and leads you to the kitchen right after. Cooking up a mad delicious Christmas dinner, baking cookies and frosting them together, laughing as he held you close, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, giggling together as frosting gets on his nose and his ears twitch in frustration. It was cold out, but with the oven heated up, his arms around your body and the two of you in sweaters Sett’s mom knitted. Maybe winter was even warmer than summer sometimes.

Kayn was a surprisingly thoughtful guy. He knows he can’t cook, he knows he can’t do any cute little handicrafts, he knows his limits. So he does what he does best, help out however he can. Sneaking into stores and buy whatever things you need last minute. Almost a challenge to him finding somewhere selling Christmas Cake and Turkey the day of and somehow still making it to the party early. Staying by your side and trying his best to do exactly as he’s told, you need dishes washed? Its your Christmas gift today, he’s on it. You need someone to decorate the tree? Easy, Rhaast is a surprisingly good at hanging ornaments on trees. You need motivation? Kayn has it covered. A cheeky smile, a soft kiss, loving words of support. He is there. (Hide the presents though, the one thing he doesn’t have is too much self control, Rhaast wants to know, Rhaast has to know, Rhaast found his gift hidden in the locked closet-)

K'Sante straight up tells you to take it easy today. He has friends and connections. You two have a private reservation to the best dinner spot at the roof of an expensive hotel. Sure having a Christmas party at home is sweet and humble but you’re his precious lover! And there was other opportunities to enjoy a warm homely holiday dinner together after you two get married. He was making sure you enjoyed all the glitz and glamor now, friends and family around the two of you, soft music playing in the background as the hotel staff handle all the food and drinks. He holds you close as the two of you overlook the city, lights sparkling both in the stars of the sky and across the ground as the lights in buildings, it was a sight to behold only emphasized by the soft kisses on the back of your neck and the warm hand wrapped around you.

Ezreal was known for holding the wildest of parties, everyone he knows was invited. So nothing was new when he said he would plan things, you just needed to show up and love him. It was a trademark Ezreal party alright. The largest and brightest tree you’ve ever seen set up by the fireplace, a potluck filled with all sorts of dishes from all his friends, decorations strewn across the room and gifts piled up so high in a corner it was almost its own tree, music so loud you heard it before you even stepped in. And when you did step in, eyes meeting his, he immediately blinks to your side, throwing himself at you in the tightest hug he’s given you in a while. A bright smile and a sparkle in his eyes before his lips meet yours, still almost embarrassing to be loved so brightly in front of everyone but at the same time so endearing to know how much he loves you to show you off like this. As everyone else talks loudly all around you, Ezreal sits by your side, one hand firmly clasped in yours under the table as he eats with the other.

Yone was more of a, “ I just want to spend time alone with you this weekend.” kind of guy. Something sweet and different about going out with him on a Christmas date, laughing together as you two go to ice skate (he tries and is graceful most of the time but when he trips and stumbles it is so cute), hands in yours as you two walk around in the evening, enjoying the lights as other sickly sweet couples walk past you. As the night comes and the air gets colder, he would hold you close, wrapping a scarf around you, hands wrapped around yours as he drives you to a dinner reservation in the heart of the city. Nothing too expensive but nothing to cheap either, it was a nice restaurant that he has brought you many times before, just that tonight there was a Christmas special menu, cute decor seen throughout the establishment as you two walk in. There was really just something nice about spending the whole day alone with each other for company. Maybe he was just old or sentimental, but he wouldn’t trade all this for anything.

Aphelios wants to be alone with you but at the same time, he loves his sister and band. So as a compromise, you two celebrate with Heartsteel at night but spend the morning in each others arms as he stays over the night before. Cold weather meant that snuggling up together as you wake up late, soft smiles and softer kisses in the warmth of the bed. Lazy mornings as Aphelios slowly gets up to get the two of you breakfast. With hot chocolate in one hand and some cute pastries in the other, soft music playing in the background, and your partner laying lovingly on your shoulder, this was truly the epitome of winter romance. Getting dressed together, adjusting each other’s hair and outfits, excitedly walking out of your place back to Heartsteel dorms to spend time with his family (both blood and non-blood related). Sure it was noisy with the other boys around, but when you two quietly sit on the couch, Aphelios could secretly admire you as your eyes light up, talking and interacting with everyone important to him. There was a soft of comforting silence enveloping his daydreams around you.

[pacifymebby]

Hi! i love your blog sm! i was wondering if i could request a peaky blinders preference for how they would react if they were at a party and an enemy had their s/o’s drink spiked as a way to distract them so they could attack the peaky boys? i hope this makes sense haha Tysm !

Hi lovely thank u so much for the request, i am so sorry that youve waited so long for me to finish this!!! I loved the idea and u gave me so much to work with!! I hope its everything u wanted it to be hehe.

Warnings: spiking of drinks, violence tv level) also describe the feeling of being spiked during Bonnies which could be upsetting for some.

Tommy

🌿 He'd been on edge all evening, he didn't really want to show his face tonight anyway, one of those fancy parties he knew he had to host every now and then to remain a prominent, influencial member of high society...

🌿 But these evenings are always ruined by the other guests... If he had to put a figure on it he'd say he despises about 90% of the rooms population and if it wasn't for you dancing with him and acompanying him all evening he's not sure he wouldn't have shouted that to the whole fucking room...

🌿All in all he wasn't in the mood for a party, let alone the trouble that he could sense brewing, this darkness bubbling away under the surface... He could tell something wasn't quite right, he had that warning bell ringing in his head and everyone who entered the grand ballroom, Tommy counted them, assessed them, studied them for any tells...

🌿Tommy saw exactly what they did, saw your drink get spiked... But this is Tommy Shelby we're talking about, the man never misses a trick

🌿And when he saw that young lad slip something into your drink he knew exactly what it was for... He knew that they were only trying to distract him from the bigger picture

🌿And what better way to navigate the trouble than to let them believe that they had...

🌿So he swaps your drink, accidentally knocking the spiked drink over, along with several others, smiling and laughing it off, apologising, keeps the mood light all hands in the air like "never mind eh just a few spilt drinks"

🌿Then when he rejoins you and gives you your drink he wraps his arms around you and hugs you close, rocking you side to side gently, slow dancing with you. Giving you instructions.

🌿"Need you do somet for me angel," he says, "Don't worry it won't be difficult... Need you to pass out for me yeah, just go limp in my arms as if someones put somet in your drink and its hit you all at once... Not right now yeah, just... Sip your drink - its safe I promise - just sip your drink and dance with me now eh and then, when I go over there and start talking with John, you go talk to Pol or me sister and you tell em you don't feel so good, let them take you out for some air and then you do it alright? But make sure you're somewhere safe away from all this for me... "

🌿You're a little worried, "but why Tommy whats going on?" "Never you mind about any of that eh, you just do this one thing for me eh sweetheart, I'll take care of everything else..."

🌿So you do as he tells you and you go outside with Ada and Polly doing your best to act a little faint a little frail. And to you delight you convince them so that when you pass out in Pollys arms a woman nearby screams and Ada goes running inside to tell Tommy...

🌿And as the chaos errupts and the party falls into dissaray, the fighting breaking out between the Peakys and the rival gang Tommy is safe in the knowledge that youre alright, that youre outside away from it all, safe and sound. So he can concentrate on wiping out the bastards who tried to hurt his angel, tried to use you as a cog in their nasty plan.

🌿He's so proud of you! When the fights over and he's sure there are no more threats he comes to find you, Ada has laid you down on the bench in the garden and covered you with her jacket and when Tommy sees you he smirks, chuckling softly.

🌿He gives you a little applause, "Bravo love, bravo," he says sitting down and helping you up, his proud grin painting a bright smile on your lips.

🌿Ada and Polly being confused until the penny drops and they realise that they've been dragged into one of Tommys plans. Theyre furious that he tricked them like that but Tommy isnt paying any attention to the lecture Polly is giving him. He's just looking at you.

🌿"You should be on the stage angel, when I saw you for a second there you had me worried..." "Don't be daft," you smile shyly, leaning into him as he puts his arms around you and hugs you, kissing your temple, looking out at the garden with serious eyes.

🌿"Sorry I had to drag you into all that love, won't happen again..." but you both know it probably will and he knows now that he can rely on you to be quite the little actress whenever he needs you.

🌿"Glad I've got such a clever girl eh angel..."

Alfie

🐻 Fuckin hates parties, doesnt see why it cant just be you and him having a drink ans a dance cosy at home but then again, he's old, maybe you youngens still like a party... Mind you, he remembers being young (he ain't that old!) he wasn't much for parties then either...

🐻 But he can't insult Tommy Shelby by refusing his invitation and he takes a little joy from knowing that his old pal Tommy hates parties just as much, that at least at this party he'll get to do is two favourite things: dancing with his zieskiet and seeing Tommy Shelby pissed off.

🐻 So the two of you go to the party and he tries to keep his grumbling to a minimum, charming you with all his usual tricks, dancing with you and enjoying the jealous looks from all the other men in the room. He's certain that you must be the most beautiful woman any of these men have ever set eyes on and he loves knowing that you're all his. Loves being able to show you off subtly.

🐻 He dances with you and brings you drinks, he holds your hand at every opportunity, being extra possesive over you, he doesnt leave your side all even...

🐻 So when it happens he's shocked... Because how could it have happened? How could anyone have put anything in your drink without him noticing?

🐻 He's so shocked but this is Alfie and he knows he needs to keep it together, remain calm, remain unsettlingly calm. So he turns slowly with you still in his arms and he searches the room for Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Because this is Tommys fuckin party so its Tommys fuckin fault and Alfie isn't daft, he knows that this... Whats happened to you, your limp, seemingly lifeless body, is probably only the first step in someone elses plan.

🐻The thought flickers across his mind, perhaps this is part of Tommys plans, perhaps its Tommy himself who has done this to you, betraying Alfie - it wouldn't be the first time the old friends have betrayed eachother... But no, that would be too obvious and besides... Tommy has a little class, for a "gypsy" anyway...

🐻 So instead of threatening everyone in the room instead of firing his gun, putting a bullet through someones - anyones - head you know, just to relieve his frustration, just to calm his panic... instead of losing his mind he remains calm, walks purposefully up to Tommy and starts talking over the younger man completely ignoring Tommys company.

🐻 This is tommys fuckin party so its tommys fuckin problem and Alfie has already decided that whatever happens next he won't be sticking around to help his old friend.

🐻 "Alright Tommy my old pal alright have a nice night yeah cause me and my girl are goin now... I know I know we've not exactly stayed very long but you know how I feel about these fancy do's dont you... Fuckin can't abide em yeah... And anyway as you can see... As you can see right my girls taken a turn hasn't she, had a funny turn, passed out cold in my arms just now yeah like she'd just gone and fuckin died or somet..." he's getting theatrical now, those who were with Tommy are watching Alfie fearfully, they've heard about him, they know he can turn at any second and he sure as hell looks like he might be about to snap now.

🐻 "We were just dancing together just now, over there yeah by that big fuckin ugly tree someone seems to have just fuckin dragged in out the garden? What is that anyway a fuckin big ugly tree? You wanna fire whoever put that ugly thing there..."

🐻 Tommy is looking at Alfie and looking at you, putting the pieces together, trying to think quicker than Alfie is talking but its always difficult to stay one step ahead of Solomons when he starts on these rants.

🐻 "Anyway I digress I digress, fuckin ugly plant or not, it would appear that somehow, in your fine home... Yeah and that words important right cause as the man of my own house myself yeah, I like to keep my home nice and safe eh, a fortress if you will... Anyway, me and my girl we were just fuckin dancin right, she was just fuckin dancing, having a nice fuckin evenin and then, poof..." he lets his voice soften, making a little gesture with his fingers like hes snuffing out a candle, "its like she's fuckin died or something aint it... Look at her yeah, don't you agree... Fuckin lifeless mate thats what she is..."

🐻 "Alfie whatevers happened I promise you we'll..."

🐻 "Fuckin fix it? That what you're gonna do yeah?" Alfie cutting him off, trying not to lose his temper, nows not the time to start a fight, nows the time to get you home safe and sound.

🐻 "Well, you can enjoy the rest of your evening eh, gather all your gypsy boys up yeah, put your little thinkin caps on eh and fuckin fix whatever shit you've gotten yourself caught up in this time... But me an my girl yeah, we're going home now alright mate, cause I reckon when she wakes up yeah shes gonna have a pretty nasty headache, and the last thing I'd want for her now is for her to have to come round to the sight of your fuckin crooked mug... Mate."

🐻 Alfie would be suspicious of everyone, even Tommy who he has mostly ruled out.

🐻 As he's carrying you out to the car, calling for Ollie to bring the motor round, its Alfie who starts the fight, firing his gun once into the crowd, wounding one of tommys men with a bullet in the foot. He chuckles as he hears the cry of pain, hears the victim fall to the floor just as heavily as you had fallen.

🐻 His real priority however is you, now that he's let tommy shelby know theres bad blood between them, now that hes started a fight and left the party tumbling into chaos, all out warfare, all Alfie cares about is getting you home.

🐻 He sits in the back of the car with you cradled to his chest, bundled up in his arms like a baby. He'd be talking to you soothingly, stroking your hair, not sure whether you can hear him or not. Wanting to make sure that whatevers happening to you you know your alfies with you, you know not to be scared.

🐻Grumbling and snapping at poor Ollie because hes driving too slowly and then because hes driving too dangerously and you're getting jostled about in the back.

🐻 He doesnt trust hospitals and doctors but he begrudgingly takes you into one and sits with you all night, getting snappy and snippy with the doctors who he doesnt think are doing enough.

🐻 He is so relieved when you finally come round the next morning, he's not slept, not eaten, hes just sat holding you, even when his sciatica was playing up and he was in pain from sitting holding you like that for too long.

🐻 He is nothing but soft and tender with you all day, runs you a bath to help sooth your aching muscles, fussing over you and grumbling at anyone who dares disturb the two of you. Poor Ollie gets an earful when he tries to inform Alfie that Tommy Shelby phoned.

🐻 He feels so guilty that this happened to you on his watch, he doesnt say it to you outright, that he blames himself, but he does make you promises over and over again that when he finds out what happened, who did that to you, he'll be paying them a visit...

🐻 He was really scared for you, really scared that he was going to lose you, really scared that you might not wake up, that he might not get to dance with you or kiss you or see your pretty eyes awake and alive ever again and so for that reason he stays close to you for some time after that night, always holding you, always touching you. He kisses you every chance he gets. Even wants you to come into his office with him so that he can keep you close, sitting in his lap whilst he works.

🐻 "Next time Tommy Shelby invites us to one of his fancy little parties zieskiet, next time he sends us one of those fuckin little invites... Lets not bother yeah, lets stay home just me and you, can do all the dancin we like right here yeah poppet, can have all the fun we like right fuckin here yeah..."

Arthur

🍂 You and Arthur always go too far at these parties his brother hosts. Tommys out there trying to make contacts, trying to lobby and charm politicians and the nations elite, meanwhile you and Arthur are racing one another to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey you've nicked from the kitchens, getting silly and letting your hair down...

🍂 And you're already drunk, both of you are really really drunk!

🍂 So when you start acting like you've overstepped that hard to predict line into "one too many" territory, Arthur assumes that thats all it is. You've had one too many, surpassed your limit and now you're struggling to stand up or walk, leaning on him for balance.

🍂 When you tell him you feel a little sick he chuckles and teases you all, "Aye my love I'm not fuckin surprised eh, when you gonna learn eh sweetheart, you can't keep up with us big boys..."

🍂 But when you collapse in his arms he freezes. The smile wiped clean off his face because suddenly he understands whats happened. You aren't just a little drunk. Something far more sinister has happened.

🍂 And of course he's terrified, pretty much convinced that youre already dead... Your body is so limp, lifeless, your head fallen back, youe eyes closed. You look so fragile, so delicate, like a feather and yet suddenly he can feel the weight of your whole body and you feel so, so real, so heavy...

🍂 He's fucking terrified.

🍂But Arthur Shelby doesn't do "terrified" he has one emotional switch and thats rage. If hes heartbroken he gets angry, if he's bitter he gets angry, if hes scared, well, he gets fucking angry and thats what happens next.

🍂 He fires his gun up at the cieling, the bullet shattering the glass in the chandelier above you so that shards rain down on the now petrified crowd. The party disintergratea, the atmosphere shattered as the band stops playing and, beyond the crying of a terrified bystander, the scuffle of panicked men, the room falls silent, all eyes on him.

🍂 He's livid, his mind already hazing with rage so that he can barely think, he's breathing heavily, shallow ragged breaths.

🍂 "Right!" he shouts into the crowd, "One of yous has fuckin hurt my fuckin wife and no one leaves this fuckin room until I find out which fucker done it... By order of the peaky fuckin blinders!"

🍂 And of course, no one argues with him.

🍂 Tommy pushes his way through the crowd to his brother, tries to reason with him, one hand on Arthurs shoulder as he tells him whats happening, explains the situation...

🍂 "You need to let her go brother, give her to Polly eh, go on brother, let Polly take her now..." Tommys trying to reason with him but Arthur doesnt want to let you go. The only reason he gives in in the end is because Tommy tells him he knows whos responsible for whats happened.

🍂 When Tommy points out the men who have spiked your drink Arthur doesnt question him, doesn't ask how he knows, instead he loses the last of his control, instead he startes trembling with the adrenaline rush, the rage, the hatred burning in his veins, his mind white and blank, tunnel visioning towards destruction.

🍂 He goes feral, launching himself at the men who are responsible, horror movie scenes ensuing as Tommy and the Peakys all go to battle, cutting men left right and center. Arthur is the most blood thirsty however, driven by the image of your lifeless body, driven by the terror he feels in his tight chest every time he pictures your lifeless expression.

🍂 He can't be stopped and he beats and cuts those men until they're unrecognisable. He has to be dragged back from the smashes in head of one of them, covered in their blood and his.

🍂 He can't calm down, he's practically rabid with his own violence, his eyes dark and changed by his anger.

🍂 But when you come round hours later, when you enter the ballroom where Arthur is still smashing things, still throwing furniture and breaking glasses, doing himself damage, when you call out to him he hears you and he turns to look at you. All the energy draining from him, all the adrenaline leaving him panting and exhausted, just gazing at you in disbelief.

🍂 And then hes just a shameful guilty stream of apologies, hes sorry he let it happen to you, hes sorry you have to see him like that, hes sorry he's too bloody and disgusting to hold you, he's sorry hes ruined your beautiful dress, he's sorry he went too far again, hes sorry he wasn't there when you woke up, he's sorry he couldn't be more help...

🍂 The only way you can cut him off is with your hand over his mouth, looking deep into his eyes, combing your fingers through his hair and his beard and pressing your lips to his cheeks, to his forehead and nose and jaw and anywhere else you possibly can.

🍂 "S'alright Arthur m'love im alright I'm here and its all alright and you fuckin got em didn't you, fuckin saved me didnt you, love you so much Arthur, don't apologise for anything please love, I'm so grateful I'm your girl..." you whispering all these sweet things to him until he's sure he's going to cry, your eyes and his eyes watering.

🍂 You cleaning him up afterwards and then climbing into the bath with him. Probably fucking in the water nice and slow and gentle to use up the last of his adrenaline and sooth him the best way you know how...

John

🌼 Similar to Arthur, John just thinks you can't hold your drink. You're so much smaller than him but you always forget that when you're drinking, you've been on the gin with Pol and Ada and you haven't exactly been taking your time....

🌼 He thinks you're so funny when you're drunk, thinks youre so cute too, the way you lose yourself half way through a sentence trailing off sleepily. The way you have to lean on him, wrapping your arms around his waist and closing your eyes as if you're about to fall asleep against him.

🌼 And when you do fall asleep against him he just chuckles, "whatre y'like eh flower," he says shaking his head and kissing your cheek as he lifts you up and carries you to the edge of the dancefloor, making a bed for you out of dinner chairs, lining them up in a row and laying you down on them with the little ones who have already gone to sleep on similar makeshift beds.

🌼 He shrugs his jacket off and uses it as a cover for you draping it over your shoulders carefully, crouching down and kissing your cheek, taking a moment to admire your peaceful features. You're so pretty, he's so lucky... All the while never noticing that somethings wrong. Never noticing anything at all until its too late.

🌼 The men who spiked your drink had been expecting some kind of reaction, a ruckus of sorts, a ripple of panic which would start with you and spread through the party like a wave...

🌼 But nothing happens and they're left confused and growing ever more tense waiting to pull their move, knowing that their window of opportunity is running out fast

🌼 And in the end they have to abandon their plan because all is calm and everyone js still having a good night. John is laughing with his brothers and you, well, you appear to be sleeping peacefully with the children...

🌼 So they have to start a new commotion, one of the men taking out a knife and threatening some random politicians wife so that one by one the peaky men are dragged into a fight.

🌼 John doesn't make any connections between the commotion and whats happened to you, as far as he's concerned youre still sleeping... That is until he grabs one of these trouble makers by the collar of his shirt and the cheeky fucker licks his teeth in a grin.

🌼 "Wheres your girlfriend Shelby? Hope shes alright, would be a shame if something were to..." and just like that the penny drops and although john had only intended to wound the stupid bastard, when he realises what the man is alluding to he shoves him up against the wall and pulls his gun on him, shooting the nasty git right between the eyes.

🌼 He's feeling murderous then, no longer enjoying the fight as a bit of friendly sport. But before he can take revenge he rushes to find Pol and instructs her to take care of you, to get you to a doctor as quickly as she can.

🌼 He's worried about you, obviously, but he's also really beating himself up for being so stupid as to not realise that there was anything wrong with you. He takes that frustration out in the fight however, channeling all his anger and fear and upset into beating the living daylights out of his enemies.

🌼 He's anxious to get to you however and the moment he scans the room and sees that his brothers and the lads have everything under control he leaves to find Polly, to find you.

🌼 He irritates the hell out of Ada and Polly who are trying to attend to you whilst they wait for the doctor, because Johns not the most delicate or precise at the best of times and when hes all worked up and in a bit of a state hes even worse. He just keeps gettinf in the way, he wants to help but somehow everything he does actually makes it worse.

🌼 "For christ sakes John sit down!" Polly losing her temper with him when the doctor does finally arrive and he carries on getting in the way.

🌼 But John will not be reassured and he will not listen to the doctor or believe them when they try to tell him that you're going to be okay.

🌼 He gets annoyed when the doctor tries to leave. "Where the bloody hell dya think youre going shes still out cold!" "Mr Shelby please, she's only sleeping, she's going to be completely fine... Theres nothing more I can do for either of you but you have my assurances that..."

🌼 "I don't want your assurances doc, I want you to fuckin do something!"

🌼 Ada having to intervene and drag him away, telling him that if he really wants to help he should stay with you, maybe talk to you or something so that you know hes there with you... Shes despairing with him if shes being honest...

🌼 But John finally lets the doctor leave and he sits down with you, holding your hand, stroking your hair out your face and talking to you, trying his best to calm down and talk calmly and reassuringly to you.

🌼 Worlds wobbliest restless knees award goes to...

🌼 He's a worrier at heart, even if he usually seems so laid back and when you do come round he doesnt stop fussing or being anxious, in fact Ada tells you she actually believes he's gotten worse... If thats at all possible.

🌼 He absolutely dotes on you. He doesnt want to leave your side but he doesnt want you to go without and he doesnt trust anyone else to get your drinks or to bring you food so hes constantly torn between going to get you food or staying by your side.

🌼 Isn't affraid to admit how scared of losing you he was, tells you multiple times. Keeps taking your hand in his and just holding onto you clasping your fingers tightly. He doesnt want to let you out of his sight.

🌼 Overly doting actually to a point where you think you might go insane. "John love, sweetheart please calm down, I'm fine I'm fine I promise... I can hold my cup myself see, I'm alright really love... Are you sure you're alright you're exhausting yourself..."

🌼 But he won't let you worry about him and he forces himself to tone his anxiety down because he doesn't want you to worry about him.

🌼 Again, can't get over how fucking stupid he feels, he can't believe he thought you were just drunk. He can't believe he just left you in the corner with the kids. He has such a huge crisis of confidence about his abilities as a husband/father. You needed him and he didn't even fucking notice.

🌼 He's petrified it could happen again and he does a lot of growing up. You tease him that hes growing too serious in his old age and although sometimes he laughs and jokes along, sometimes he gets this dark guilty look in his eyes and he reminds you of what happened, what could have happened. Tells you again that he isn't gonna let you down like that again...

🌼 Obviously wont listen to you when you try to tell him he didn't and could never let you down.

Bonnie

🍀 If he was being honest, for all that he'd told Tommy Shelby he wanted fame and fortune, didn't want to be a traveller anymore with fucking nothing to his name, seeing how Tommy lived whenever he visited the Shelby manor, made him question whether he really wanted all those things afterall. There was something about that manor that made Bonnie uncomfortable, perhaps it was simply that wherever the Shelbys were involved there was trouble.

🍀 And that was why he had had mixed feelings about bringing you to this party...

🍀Thered been so many reasons he'd wajted to... Naturally... He'd been excited to show off his girl, to have all the other Peaky Boys see you in all your beauty, for them to see that the shy and somewhat reserved Bonnie Gold, could do just as well as them when it came to women...

🍀And he'd wanted to show off to you too, show you how different the Shelby family seemed to live. The wealth that Bonnie was being introduced to. He wanted to show you it all so he could show you all the things he was going to work to win for you with his boxing.

🍀And he wanted to treat you. In comparison to the other Peaky lads like Isaiah and Michael and Finn, Bonnie led a far more simple life. The other boys were always taking their girls out to fancy parties, clubs and restaurants but you and Bonnie didn't live that kind of life...

🍀So when Tommy told him to bring a girl if he liked, Bonnie knew he would be taking you...

🍀Even if he was a little apprehensive to let you so close to the darker half of his life which so often put him in danger and could put you in harms way too if he wasn't careful..

🍀But it was worth his nerves to see you smiling the way that you were now, dancing with him, drinking and laughing with Isaiahs girlfriend and Michaels too. You looked so happy, so beautiful under the twinkling candle glow which lit the ballroom. And he was happy that you were happy. He was proud that everyone could see how you shone like a little star in that room. How you fitted in perfectly...

🍀But neither of you saw that stranger slip something into your drink. A drink that had been intended for Ada Shelby who had been talking to you by the bar, your glasses side by side on the polished marble top.

🍀 At first you just felt a little odd, a little dizzy as though you'd done ten shots of gin without realising it and they were all hitting you at once and when you found Bonnie and told him you felt strange he smiled at you and teased you telling you you'd had one too many trying to keep up with "us big lads"

🍀 He tucks you under his arm and leads you out to the terrace for some air, kisses your cheek and scrapes your long hair back from your face and neck so that the cool night air might dust you and ease your dizziness.

🍀You make the mistake of asking for some water and Bonnie makes the mistake of leaving you alone outside to go and get you some.

🍀And by the time either of you realised whats really happening its too late. Your little world is blurring and spinning and you feel suddenly so unbelievably sick.

🍀So you stand up quickly, too quickly, desperate to get back to Bonnie because you have that worrisome feeling in your stomach, that instinct telling you that something is really wrong.

🍀And you bump into a stranger who holds onto your arm for a moment too long, making you feel even more like you might be in serious trouble.

🍀You call out for Bonnie, your voice much quieter, your words more slurred than you expect them to be. And of course when Bonnie hears you he recognises that something isn't right because you sound so distance. Suddenly he feels very far away from you...

🍀When he turns and sees you he drops the glass of water, not even noticing it shatter on the floor causing a stir. He rushes to you concern lacing his brows together, his young face grey with worry when he recognises all the tell tale signs of something he'd hoped would never happen to you...

🍀 You open your mouth to call out to him but as you do you falter, stumbling forward. You're lucky your boy is a boxer, agile and quick on his feet, because he manages to catch you just before your vision fails and your body falls limp everything feeling heavier and heavier until finally you find yourself completely lost under a thick hazy quilt.

🍀 You can feel that sensation of impending doom grip you then, the fear building inside you, your heart racing as you struggle against the lethargy and confusion which is dragging you down into the dark. You want to cry, want to cry out for your Bonnie to help you but you can't even move let alone speak.

🍀Bonnie is shaking, looking down at you where you lie limp in his arms, your body slumped against his. You look so pale, so washed out. You feel cold too. Its as if you're dead but he knows youre not. He knows exactly whats happened to you because he's heard stories from Isaiah about some of the shit that goes on in the city these days. Girls getting attacked by sleazy gits. Ones who can't charm women (or perhaps dont even want to) so they use drugs to make them vulnerable, to make them easy targets.

🍀He's livid. Pale with anger. His heart beating fast because he knows how dangerous these kinds of poisons can be. How much damage they can do. He's scared for you but he's fucking livid too. Who the fucks Tommy Shelby inviting into his home these days... How the fucks a gang leader as infamous as Tommy Shelby cutting about letting young girls get spiked under his watch.

🍀He kisses your forehead, whispering to you that you'll be alright, saying a little prayer, a hail mary for you, hoping you can hear him. Hoping that it'll bring you comfort wherever you are just then.

🍀And then he surprises not only himself but everyone else in the room, all the other young peaky lads watching him astounded.

🍀Because he walks straight back into the ballroom, still holding you in his arms, bundled up against his chest, the most precious cargo hes ever had to carry. He kisses you on the forehead again and he says another little prayer for you, and then he carries you right up to Tommy Shelby himself, Bonnies eyes full of a cold determination, his anger apparent in the grinding of his jaw, the complete disgust with which he looks at Tommy.

🍀 It must be the adrenaline shooting through him, it must be the funny way emotions like fear and heartbreak show themselves when youre young and impulsive, but god knows where the confidence to do what he does next comes from...

🍀"You need to sort your fuckin men out Thomas Shelby, I dont know what the fuck kind of lowlife bastards you associate with..." 🍀his dad tries to cut in and apologise to Tommy on Bonnies behalf but when he sees you he frowns too and steps back wincing when his son carries on.

🍀 "You need to be a bit more fuckin careful about who you call your fuckin friends Tommy, cause when I find the sick cunt who's spiked my lass am gonna slit his fuckin throat from ear to fuckin ear..."

🍀 "And you say we're the fuckin savages..." he spits on the ground at Tommys feet but he doesn't wait to hear the older mans response.

🍀Instead he leaves with you immediately, doesnt stay to realise the true extent of the drama which kicks off after he leaves and even when he hears about what went down in the end he doesnt care. All that matters to him is you. When he's leaving with you all he's thinking about is how he's going ti get you home safe, how he's going to take care of you...

🍀All in all the attackers are going ro regret their mistake because had they hit Ada there might have been a bigger fight kicked off, her brothers picking any poor sod in the crowd of guests to fight with. But because they hit you its all over much quicker. Bonnie doesnt let you become a distraction, he really does just carry you all the way home where he can keep you safe, watch you through your unconsciousness and make sure youre alright.

🍀He spends all night sitting up with you, talking to you quietly, kissing your hair, cradling you to his chest, worrying about you. Saying those little prayers for you hoping that you can hear him or at least feel his presence. Hoping that you can feel his love for you, hoping you know that hes got you, that youre safe.

🍀 "S'alright little dove s'alright my girl ive got you you're safe sweetpea, won't let anything happen to you lovely..."

🍀When tou come round you wake in his lap, his hand in your hair, one hand on your wrist as he counts your pulse. He's so worried about you, the longer you've been out for the more stressed hes become. His dad came home not long after he did, Aberama had had to stick around and help when the fight had broken out, he'd also had to try and save face on behalf of his son and his short temper...

🍀 "My my bonnie that was quite the performance..." "I'm not gonna apologise so don't even try it..." Bonnies still absolutely seething and will be for some time, he's angry that Tommy would let those kinds of men into his house and he can't be reasoned with. He's definitely going to hold a grudge.

🍀But when you come round properly he drops his temper and shows you only gentleness ans care, ever so sweet as he dotes on you. Doesn't try to hide his relief, doesn't try to play it cool. Tells you how worried he was, how scared he was he might lose you...

🍀He asks you how you're feeling, tells you not to lie to him or play it down. "What do you need little dove, anythin at all yeah you tell me, gonna look after you i promise..." but you don't really need him to promise you that because you know it already.

🍀In the end you have to try and talk sense to him about the whole Tommy issue, you remind him what hes working towards, "Don't throw all that away over some stupid accident Bon, you're gonna be a star remember, gonna be my champion..."

🍀"Come in Bon, forgive and forget, what is it they say... Bury the hatchet..." "Aye I'll bury it alright... In the back of his fuckin head!" "Bonnie i mean it! Please!" and eventually he has to give in and take you seriously but not without that boyish smile, not without joking about his grudge from time to time and not without making it very clear that he isn't going to apologise for what he said that night, or for leaving before he could help thwm fight. "Alright, alright sweetpea, no bad blood i promise alright if thats what you want I'll forgive him... But am not apologisin to him... I did exactly what any good lad would do eh, got to look after my girl, gotta protect her first, shes the most important thing in the whole wide world..."

🍀He does feel like he should have done more, he regrets not realising sooner, regrets even taking you to the stupid party in th3 first place. From then on he's far more protective over you, hyper alert whenever hes out with you, doesn't ever let your drinks out of his sight, doesnt ever let anyone else buy you a drink. Doesnt ever leave you on your own, not even to get you a water when you really have had one too many. Certain he wont let anything like that happen to you ever again.

Isaiah

🐀 Similiar to John, Isaiah doesn't realise somethings wrong until its really really wrong and the fights already kicked off.

🐀The two of you would have been trying to outdrink one another all night. This was one of Tommys parties, one for all his legal business contacts and endeavors and Isaiah wasnt exactly expecting to be pulling his gun on anyone or getting into any serious scraps.

🐀However when a fight does break out, when some uninvited guests turn on Arthur and pull a knife, Isaiah's first thought is of vulnerable drunk you somewhere on your own in the party, perhaps off with Ada in the bathroom or with Lizzie at the bar.

🐀He only realises the depths of the danger you're in when he shoves a half concious thug to the floor and out of his way, pausing amid the choas to look for you, to see whether you've returned from the bathroom. But instead he sees Ada, sees her with tears in her eyes, her face white as a sheet. She looks terrified and although there could be any number of reasons the Shelby sister looks so scared Isaiah knows in his gut that shes crying because of you. Somethings happened to you.

🐀"Ada what is it whats wring where the fucks y/n..." and when Ada shakes her head and bursts into tears he fears the worst. Thinks something fucking awful has happened to you.

🐀He has this moment of hesitation, torn because the fights still raging and he knows the peakys need him to stay and fight. But he's terrified, so scared that you might be lying on the floor somewhere wounded or worse, dying, without him...

🐀"Ada tell me what the fucks happened," he snaps because hes panicking. Later he'll feel guilty for scaring the young lass but just then shes the least of his worries. He can think only of you. Total tunnel vision panic. When Ada manages to tell him whats happened she starts crying harder and Isaiah feels his blood run cold. He wants to run to you but he knows there's nothing he can do fir you, knows the only way he can keep you safe now is if he makes sure not a single one of these intruders gets out alive.... So he tells Ada to go find Polly, tells her to make sure she geta you help tells her to keep the both of you safe.

🐀He's in a blind panic, his adrenaline rushing him making it hard ti focus, hard to think and all he can do is launch himself at an attacker and take all his anger and fear out on them.

🐀Knowing that one of these men has hurt you motivates him and unlocks something plain sadistic inside him, he doesnt stop fighting until hes sure theyre all dead and even then with some of them he goes overboard, cutting people who are already dead/as good as dead. Kicking at their limp bodies until their blood stains his shoes and the walls, until its splattered over his body and the other bodies which now little the floor.

🐀John has to drag him away from the body of a man who's barely recognisable anymore reminding him of you, reminding him that you need him, "Come on Saiah, enough... She'll be coming round soon and when she does she's gonna need her man eh? You gotta be there for her mate, you've got to calm the fuck down, clean yourself up... Last thing she wants see is you covered in all this blood..."

🐀Then all the fight leaves him, hes stressed, can't control his ragged breathing, can't control his shaking. Suddenly he doesnt know what to do with all that fear and upset and for a minute he's scared he's going to cry in front of everyone. Isaiah definitely puts a lot of pressure on himself to be as tough as Tommy and the older Peaky men and the fact that his response when his girl is unconcious is to cry rather than rush to protect her makes him feel sick and a little disgusted with himself. Which obviously translates to more anger...

🐀So his temper flares and he can't calm down and even when Pol tells him to breath, to relax because youre going to be fine, Isaiah cant and doesn't accept that. He just gets pissed off that anything bads happened to you at all. And when he snaps at Polly all "Don't tell me to fucking calm down woman! Thats my fuckin girl there, fuckin out cold don't tell me to be fuckin cold!" he gets a hard slap off the woman in question. "Watch who you're callin woman peaky boy or it'll be you on the fuckin floor alright..."

🐀Only then does he come to his senses, suddenly apologetic and a little more meek. A little humbled by that stark slap to the face. It was what he needed in the end to calm him, to remind him who needed him and who he needed to be in that moment.

🐀And then Lizzie and Ada start wishing they could give him a slap too because he's fussing around you and getting in the way and he isn't helping at all...

🐀"Sit down for fuck sake Isaiah, fussin like that ain't gonna help her..." Ada trying to shoo him away, Isaiah straight up ignoring her and hovering around you anyway.

🐀Will be there when you wake up, will say sorry a million times, will not be able to handle the guilt. Makes a lot of very murderous promises. But youre actually kind of fine, just tired and achey, all you really want is for him to lie diwn with you and hold you whilst you rest.

🐀"saiah please," you yawn making grabby hands at him, lethargic and sleepy with little tears in your eyes, "just want a cuddle, come here calm down be alright just want... Cuddle..." him chuckling at you, a smile painted on his lips by your sweetness despite the stress he still feels.

🐀When he climbs into bed with you and holds you in his arks you hold onto him too, you can feel the adrenaline still pumping through his body, can feel his fast heartbeat and the way hes trembling. Youre not so naive as to point it out or ask him about it, instead you kiss his chest and nuzzle into his hold and you thank him for saving you and for being there when you woke up.

🐀Youre a sweet sight to behold and Isaiah is overcome with relief, a rush of emotion hitting him as he realises just how seriously he feels for you, how much you really mean to you. He loves you so dearly and as you're lying there held close to his chest he really realises for the first time that if anything were to happen to you he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

🐀So he makes a silent vow to you and himself that from then on hes going to be your protector, hes going to be there whenever you need him. That hes never going to let you get hurt again, never going to put you in harms way. He stops messing around so much, stops getting as drunk as he used to, really grows up and starts viewing everything to do with the peakys as serious, as a potential threat to you.

🐀Later you ask him to tell you exactly what he did to the bastards that gave you such a sore head and he lights up telling you about it, very satisfied to remember that he made sure they got what they deserved. And you're kind of delighted to hear it too, the kind of story that just make your stomach turn, your body cringe in empathy when he describes the injuries those gits suffered... Instead it makes you feel safe and secure knowing that you have a man who would do literally anything to protect you.

Michael

☘️ He's always enjoyed these parties, theyre so wildly different from anything he ever knew when he was living in the countryside... They make him feel like a real man, like an adult... They're so far from anything he ever expected for himself growing up

☘️And its even better now he has you to spend the evening with, to have on his arm looking beautiful, the most desirable woman in the room. He loves the feeling of entering a room and feeling jealous eyes on him, or shocked eyes. Women who look at him and see his girl and know they don't stand a chance. Me who instinctively drop the hand of their girlfriend when they see you. Michael loves to see it, the attention the two of your draw, the power you have over a room without even having to try.

☘️But that night he finally sees the flipside, the dark threat which looms like a shadow, which follows the shelby men and their partners wherever they go. The truth of the matter is that wherever you go, no matter who you're with, no matter what who is there to protect you, there always a chance that someone out there, someone nearby wants to harm you.

☘️ And tonight it so happens that that is the case. That someone in that crowd of giddy tipsy party goers, has their eyes on you, has foul plans for you...

☘️When it happens, when the 'poison' hits you don't really know whats happening but Michael does. He recognises the signs imediately, the way your eyes cloud with fear and confusion, the way your lips tremble and slope downwards as if you were suffering some kind of turn. He realises that somethings wrong but he doesn't know what to do and when you fall limp into his side, your body heavy against his, the poor lad panics. He freezes.

☘️And this panic is something he will never be able to forgive himself for. Something he'll curse himself for everyday for the rest of his life.

☘️But thats what he does. He panics. He freezes just clutching your lifeless body to himself, staggering back a pace or two, feeling like he might be about to collapse too.

☘️Honestly he thinks you're dead or dying, he thinks he's already lost you, that theres nothing to be done and when he drops to his knees holding onto your body like his life depends on it, he doesnt realise he's shouting for his mother until she rushes to him in a panic herself.

☘️ "Mum!" its that shout that stops the party, but its his next words, words which fall on a hushed and confused low murmuring crowd, "I think shes fuckin dead mum i think shes fuckin..." which cause the evenings downfall.

☘️In that sudden silence a scream is heard somewhere else in the house. It shatters the concerned murmur hum of whispers from onlookers and suddenly sobering perty guests, the scream ricochetting around the ballroom. Honestly Michael hardly hears it over the thrum of his petrofied heart beating in his ears.

☘️Tommy and the other peaky men all rush to find the source of the scream and when Michael doesnt move tommy stops and yells for him...

☘️ "Leave her Michael come on get up, fuckin get up!" he shouts to his younger cousin, no heart for you the girl passed out in Michaels lap, no consideration for Michaels world which is shattering around him in pieces on the ballroom floor. "Fuck sake Michael fuckin move!" he yells his voice carrying across the room, other guests watching in fear when still Michael doesnt move, still clutching onto you, still mumbling to his mum in a blind panic that he thinks youre fuckin dead...

☘️He's so torn because he knows he can't stand up to Tommy, he can't shout at him or put up a fight - even though all he wants to do is tell his older cousin to get fucked - but he also can't stand the thought of leaving you. Can't bare to hand you over to his mother when he really believes that if he does he'll never get to hold you again.

☘️He's so scared and he just sits there on the floor, on his knees, still holding you, your head hanging lip, your eyes shut, your body so unbearably still. He just sits there distraught looking between you and Tommy until tommys temper flares. "fuckin move michael..."

☘️ "Go on love go with your cousin," Pol tells him, "you go and you fuckin kill em for this eh, fuckin kill em... Ive got her, she'll be alright i promise you Michael, you fuckin kill em alright?"

☘️So he pulls himself together, stands up shaking, fighting back tears, a looming sense of dread and devotion, a doomed feeling taking hold of him from the inside as he follows Tommy through the house to the fight which has broken out, which is raging on.

☘️ But he's distracted fighting because you're all he can think about. He's so worried about you and it means he misses a couple of tricks, taking more of a beating than he should have done. Getting cut by a blade, getting a kicking that leaves him feeling weak and full if self loathing. He feels humiliated, even after the fight when he's had his fair share of little victories. Even when hes headbutted another lad out cold and sent his unconcious body staggering back and falling with a thud to the dining room floor. Even when hes plunged a kitchen knife into the back of another.

☘️By the time the fights over he's bruised and bloody and he looks worse than you. Hes in a foul mood, his temper thin and stretched tight because he feels that shame looming over him.

☘️He's genuinely humilated by everything, the fact that he let that happen to you, the fact that he was so scared, the fact that he didnt put up a good fight, that he's ended up battered and looking like a man who can't defend himself or his woman. A man who is only really half a man. He feels pathetic.

☘️ And that gives him a foul temper which he almost takes out on you. Earns himself a slap from his mother who tells him not to be so fucking childish, "Wipe that fuckin sullen look of your face Michael you stupid stupid boy... Y/N fuckin needs you so stop your sulking and step up for her!" "She needs you Michael, more than your fuckin ego needs you now get in there and promise you'll never let anything like that happen to her again..."

☘️And that's exactly what he does. When he returns to you he sees the little tears in your eyes and when you try to apologise to him all, "Michael I'm so sorry, I should have been paying more attention, I should have been more careful... Oh god look at you you poor thing I can't believe it this is all my fault.." he holds his finger to your lips and hushes you. "Stop that eh love, be quiet none of this is your fault... None of this alright... Don't you dare say sorry again sweetheart..."

☘️ He holds your face in both his hands and puts his forehead against yours, closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief. Sheds a tear that trickles down his cheek. You're alive and thats all that matters, you're alive and he's so relieved. He hasn't lost you, you're still here. That means he has a chance to make this right. That means he can do things right from now on, be the man you need him to be.

☘️ Thought I was gonna fuckin lose you angel, thought you were gonna fuckin die... But here you are, you're alright now and I'm never gonna let anything happen to you ever again, gonna keep you safe now and always yeah?"

☘️When you ask if he's crying he denies it, then he makes you swear on his life you'll never tell a soul, and that you'll never ask if he's crying ever again. You kiss his cheek where the tear is and smile whispering that you promise. That you love him. That its going to take more than a little drink to drag you away from him.

☘️ He's far more wary around you, who you talk to, where you go, far more protective. And he starts working out more, starts going to the boxing ring with Isaiah and Finn, and when he fights he tries to tap into that panic he felt, pictures your lifeless body and channels all his emotions into every punch, the adrenaline making him ten times a better fighter.

☘️ Loves to hear you tell him how strong he's getting, loves when you run your hands over his arms to feel his muscles and say things like "How could I ever feel in danger when I've got you protecting me?"

[rosaleelovesdilfs]

“Mama I’m In love with a Criminal” pt 1/?

MDNI, smut, kidnapping, mild Stockholm syndrome, mentions of ex mental abuse, daddy issues CLEARLY (lol) , mentions of murder and gore, and stalking. (If I forgot something I’m sorry!)

“Cooper what the FUCK!” You say as you’re leaned over, sweating digging a grave. What am I doing?

“Just keep digging.” He looks over at you, butchering the body. You gag, it’s so gruesome to watch his process. You know his process very well, but helping? Why the FUCK are you helping?!

Oh, yea…you’re in love with a fucking criminal, The Butcher.

Then:

“Welcome in! How can I help you?” You say putting on the most artificial smile.

“Vanilla cold brew, no ice, extra cream, two pumps of caramel, and foam on top.”

You have gotten used to no “thank yous” or “please”. Just put on a smile and do what they say.

“Yes Ma’am will that be all?” You ask in the most polite tone.

“Well did I say anything else? Yea that’s all.” She states.

“Apologize to her, she’s just doing her job…” a tall man in a firefighter uniform says. The lady looks at him and immediately flushes. “Oh uh yes sir. My apologies Cooper. I’m sorry” she says curtly to you.

Of course, Cooper Adams. I mean who didn’t know him? He’s the chief firefighter, polite, tall, and very fucking hot. “Hi Mr. Adams what can I do for you?” This time, without an artificial smile.

“Oh please, call me Cooper. I’ll just do a straight black coffee. Thank you sweetheart.”

Sweetheart…fuck is he dreamy. You hand him his coffee and his receipt to sign. When he hands it back, it has a number on it.

“I’m uh-hosting a thing at the station. Maybe if you could somehow cater? Call me.” He smiles as he turns around and walks out. That smile…it’s so perfect, too perfect.

Now:

After you’ve finished digging the grave you look over at Cooper. “What’s um-what’s next?”

“I need you to help me carry these pieces and put them in the hole. Got it?” He says walking over. “I’m sorry that you are having to do this…” he kisses you on the head. He’s not fucking sorry. He enjoys you helping. Enjoys having someone see the true him, The Butcher he’s always been. He loves having you get your hands dirty, and after this? After this he’ll join you in the shower and fuck you senseless. Fuck all the anger, emotion, and stress out.

You nod to him, doing as he says. You don’t really want to find out what would happen if you said no. Does he love you? Are you just a toy to him? Let’s be honest you don’t care. You’re in love with him, his flaws, his perfections, everything.

“Okay put these on.” He hands you a pair of gloves. You put them on as you help him carry the pieces of the body to the grave you dug. After all the pieces are in there, he starts to fill it back up. He’s done this countless times, always leaving a little piece of the victim somewhere for the police to find. He loves this little game, knowing people fear him, have nightmares about him. While people are having nightmares about him, what he may do, you’re inside his bed straddling him. Kissing him, riding his cock while he praises you.

“Good girl. You did so good tonight helping me.”

Then:

You dial the number left on the receipt.

“Hello?” His voice comes on the other end. His voice is like liquid sex, so smooth, so perfect. Too perfect.

“Hey! It’s y/n from the coffee shop. You mentioned something about catering…? You do know we don’t have much food correct?” You slightly giggle.

“Would you be mad if I said that was a lie just to get a pretty girls number?”

You fluster and get agitated just at that comment. “Oh really? And if I said I was mad?”

“Then I guess that would be an issue.” You hear him smile on the other end. “So now that I have your number, would you wanna go out sometime? Go anywhere you want.”

How could you say no? You’re not gonna say no to the chief firefighter that’s single and fucking hot. “Yea sure. Hey listen, there’s a rock concert actually in a week and my friend bailed…would you maybe wanna go? I don’t know what music you like but-“

“Yes of course I’ll go.” He cuts you off.

“Perfect it’s next Wednesday. Pick me up at 8:00.” You try not to scream with excitement.

“Okay see you then sweetheart.” He hangs up.

Concert day…

“You ever been to a concert before?” I ask. He gets sweaty and uneasy.

“Oh yea once. It was a long time ago though back when I lived in Philly.” He says looking around.

“Oh cool, that’s cool. I’ve been to a few but this is my first rock one.” You look up at him, still looking around paranoid. “You okay…?”

“Oh yea, just a lot of people.” He wipes his hands on his jeans and smiles down at you. “I’m having fun though, I promise.”

The concert ends an hour later and you get back to your place. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to grab you and kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you like a starving man in all honesty.

“I had fun, thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course, I had fun too.” He pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear. You look up at him almost begging for him with your eyes. He can read your expression and leans in to kiss you. This was what you dreamed of, what you saw in the movies and the books you read.

You unlock the door to your house with him still on your lips.

“Fuck cooper.” You moan into him. He starts shedding his clothes, folding them neatly as he did so. You do the same with yours. You don’t know why he’s so neat with them, but did it matter? Before you know you’re on the couch with him between your legs, licking and sucking at your pussy. You grasp the couch and moan. This was heaven. This man’s lips, tongue, hair, everything was so perfect. For a moment your gut tells you something’s not right, but why listen when there’s a deeper knot building. His thick fingers teasing your entrance, pushing but not yet.

“Cooper…cooper fuck I’m close!” You grab his hair and tug which pulls a moan out of him.

“Good girl, take my tongue like the good girl you are.” He says looking up and returning to suck your clit.

His words hit you like a bus, your orgasm closely following. He continues until you’re squirming in his hands, the way he likes it. He likes when you struggle…

Who knew this would lead to you being his accomplice? Who knew he had this all planned out from the beginning?

“Turn around. Hands on the table.” He wasn’t asking, he was commanding. You have never done this on the first date, so why now?

“Yes sir.” You looked back at him smiling. The smile was hiding how nervous you were to take him all in. He smacks your ass leaving a stingful mark. He massages it with his hand after while massaging your clit. Next thing you know he pounds into you without warning, letting out a moan. “Fuck you feel so good baby. You’re gonna be good and take me all…”

You pant and let out almost incoherent moans and words as he relentlessly pounds into you, all while massaging your clit. “Come on baby you’re squeezing me, let go, come all over my cock.” Not long after you reach your climax, he follows right behind.

He cleans you up and kisses all the marks he left, praising and apologizing all at once. “You did so good for me.”

You fall asleep like that, in his arms. It was comforting but something was just nagging at you.

The next morning you both decide to go get breakfast at a new place up the street.

“So Cooper, how long have you lived here?” You ask curious.

“About four years now. Left Philly awhile back.” He almost looks around, trying to avoid your eyes as he says this.

“How come you left?”

“Hey I have to get going the station is calling me. Emergency. I’ll call you later okay?” He rushes to get up and kisses you on the forehead before he’s out the door. What the fuck was that about?

Now:

You quickly help him clean up the rest of the evidence at one of the safe houses he has. “Cooper, exactly how many people have you killed…?” You didn’t know if this was the first time, or the 10th time.

“This is my 13th victim. The other twelve were back in Philadelphia. My um- my family I’m not sure where they are. They are under witness protection. That’s why I chose this small town, no one would know who I am? I could tell you always thought something was off, something was not right, but yet here we are.” He starts to walk over to you. “I knew something in you could do it, you could be a good girl and help me.” He kisses me and touches me with his bloody hand. That wont last long. He has clinical OCD which means he can only be like this for about five minutes. Everything’s always constructed and achieved perfect. Too perfect.

All you can do is nod. Your brain and gut is telling you to turn away, go to the police as fast as you can. Your heart…it’s telling you to stay. To protect Cooper. You are officially an accomplice to this. You couldn’t run if you wanted to…this is what he wanted all along. For you to fucking HELP so you were stuck with him?! What the fuck did you get yourself into.

Im not quite sure how many parts I am going to do. I am going to aim for 3 though!! I hope y’all enjoy the first part :)!!! The second part will be out Sunday most likely!

@coopers-bunny @babygorewhore @cryobabyy @thebutchersbitch @hereforthehitsbaby @amethystblackkchaos @rainingrabbits89-blog @lustskitty69

If I forgot anyone I’m so sorry please just remind me in the comments!