#dead lions

[hr-twink]

just a selection of Spider being clocked as a whore in Dead Lions

[randomnerdyfan]

Friendly reminder that Spider has fake teeth in the second book because River punched his teeth out in the office in the first book. The books are so much more unhinged.

[ffrederiks]

I love their little crazy family so much.

[johnnyspells]

things I'm not normal about: spider webb in his luxury apartment the night before meeting pashkin, thinking about how he bested river cartwright. like ok???? just looking at your empty swanky apartment and thinking about river in his tiny east end flat? wowwwwww

[moonmaiden1996]

Silent Pursuit Chapter 8

River stepped into your flat, the air inside was warm, faintly scented with you�� It was a home that reflected you: soft, welcoming, and deeply personal.

You slipped off your scarf, tossing it over a chair as you gestured toward the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us something to drink.” before darting off into the kitchen to escape the blonde's heated gaze.

The kitchen smelled like coffee, the rich scent hanging in the air, but it was the tremble in your hands that gave you away. You tried to steady yourself as you poured water into the kettle, but the nerves had already taken hold. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this a hundred times before, but tonight... tonight felt different. Your mind raced, your heart hammered in your chest, and no amount of deep breaths could calm the flutter in your stomach.

You wanted him. That much was undeniable. But there was still a part of you, a small voice in the back of your mind, that told you to slow down, to play it cool. After all, you weren’t the type of girl to jump into anything on the first date but this felt different. As you fumbled with the coffee grounds, a soft sound from behind you made your breath catch. Before you could turn around, you felt him there, close, his body radiating warmth as he stood just behind you.

The kitchen seemed smaller now, the warm light casting long shadows that danced on the walls. Your pulse raced in your ears, each beat louder than the last as you tried to focus on the simple task of preparing coffee. But every movement felt weighted, every breath shallow. River’s presence behind you was impossible to ignore—a quiet force that drew your attention like gravity.

You fidgeted with the kettle, your fingers lingering over the handle as you tried to ground yourself. The metallic click of the switch echoed through the room, but it did little to steady your nerves. You didn’t dare look back at him, even though you could feel his eyes on you, tracing every movement as though committing them to memory. The air was charged, heavy with the unspoken tension that had been building all evening.

When he finally stepped closer, the distance between you evaporated like mist under sunlight. You felt him before you heard him—the subtle shift of the air, the warmth radiating from his body. Your breath hitched as his hands settled gently on your waist, the touch both tender and possessive. His fingers brushed over the fabric of your sweater, the lightest of touches, but it sent a shiver coursing through you that you couldn’t hide.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rasp that seemed to resonate deep within you. He was so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath against your neck, the faintest brush of his lips as he spoke. Your body reacted instinctively, your back arching slightly as if to close the gap, to invite him closer.

You wanted to respond, to say something clever or reassuring, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you swallowed hard, willing yourself to steady the quiver in your hands. But River noticed everything; he always did. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, anchoring you, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles against your sides. It was such a small gesture, but it ignited something inside you—a need that you had been trying, unsuccessfully, to keep at bay.

His lips grazed your neck, just below your ear, a featherlight kiss that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You closed your eyes, exhaling a shaky breath as your grip on the counter tightened. The sensation was intoxicating, a perfect balance of tenderness and restraint. He wasn’t rushing; he was savoring. Every touch, every kiss felt deliberate, as though he was memorizing the shape of you, the taste of you, the way you responded to him.

“Why are you trembling?” he asked again, his voice softer now, tinged with curiosity and something deeper. It wasn’t just desire—it was care, a genuine concern that made your chest ache.

You turned your head slightly, your lips parting as you tried to find the right words. The truth was messy, complicated. You weren’t sure how to explain the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. The vulnerability, the excitement, the fear of wanting something so badly it felt like you could break from it.

“I’m not usually like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t usually let things happen so fast.” You felt the warmth of a blush rising to your cheeks, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “But with you, it feels different… I don’t want to wait.”

You finally dared to look back at him, your gaze meeting his. His eyes were dark, intense, filled with an emotion that made your breath catch. There was no judgment there, no impatience or disappointment. Only understanding, and something far more dangerous—an unyielding hunger that mirrored your own.

“There’s no wrong way to feel this,” he said, his voice steady, grounding. “Not with me.’’

Relief washed over you, mingling with the desire that had been simmering just beneath the surface. You turned fully in his arms, your hands coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath your palms, a stark contrast to the chaotic rhythm of your own.

“I want you,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I don’t want to think anymore. I just… I just want this.”

River’s lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes remained serious, searching yours as if to confirm what you were saying. When he leaned in, it wasn’t rushed or hurried. His lips met yours softly at first, testing, asking. But when you responded, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer, the kiss deepened. It was slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming.

His hands moved to your back, one sliding up to cradle the nape of your neck while the other pressed you closer against him. Every inch of him was warm, solid, grounding you even as the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet. The kiss wasn’t just an exploration; it was a claim, a promise of everything yet to come.

When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing hard, the space between you charged with energy. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch impossibly tender for someone who had just unraveled you so completely.

“You’re safe with me,” he said, his voice rough but certain.

Desire

His words made your chest tighten. It was more than just desire that tied you to him in this moment. It was trust, a fragile thread that had been spun over every conversations, every stolen glance, every fleeting touch. You needed this, after everything of the last few weeks you just wanted to feel, to yearn, to lose yourself.

As his lips found yours again, the last of your hesitation melted away. You let yourself fall, let yourself want, let yourself feel. And as his hands slid lower, as he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter, you knew there was no going back. 

I am back baby! Sorry its been so long but life has been a bit crap and I have been torn between two ideas. So for my special Christmas update you have a choice for the next chapter- Very sexy smut or tense action.

Please let me know what you want to see!

LIKE.COMMENT.REQUEST

[lovetgr76]

Slow Horses Showrunner on Adapting Books, Will All Nine Be Explored?

I know Gary wants to keep going for as long as he’s asked. He loves playing the character.

[tenderlywicked]

I started rewatching season 2 of Slow Horses—and it turns out I've been to this village! It feels like it was a lifetime ago.

[idlesuperstar]

- My team have already professionally humiliated themselves. That’s why they’re my team.

[shipthecarsons]

'What now?' Molly asked.

'I need to think, he said. 'I'm going home'

'Home?'

'I mean Slough House.'

She raised an eyebrow. Cracks had appeared in her make-up.

'If it's quiet you want, I can find you a corner?'

'Not a corner I'm after. It's a fresh pair of ears,' Lamb said distractedly.

'As you wish.' She smiled, but it was a bitter thing. 'Someone special waiting over there?'

[just-a-rambling-goldfish]

Bonus:

[the-greenfox]

If one of you talented gif-makers makes one of River kissing the top of Louisa's head as they walk out of the church at the end of season 2 i will kiss you on the mouth. With tongue

[15billionyears]

What I’m watching (2024 Edition) || Slow Horses - Series 2 (2022)

[tv-moments]

Slow Horses

Season 2: Dead Lions, “Last Stop”

Director: Jeremy Lovering

DoP: David Chizallet

[dreamsatdusk]

Ascertaining this would be another step over a line she never intended to cross in the first place, for now it remains wrapped and hidden; its only promise that of an escape from one empty place into another, which is all the future seems to offer to Louisa; one empty space after another, like an infinity of mirrors reaching all the way to nowhere.

Dead Lions; Mick Herron

[teeelsie-posts]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Slow Horses (TV), Slough House - Mick Herron Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: River Cartwright & Louisa Guy Characters: River Cartwright, Louisa Guy Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Violence, Grief/Mourning, River & Louisa Friendsip Summary:

River isn't dealing very well with the fallout from Upshott. Louisa isn't dealing very well with Min's death. They're colleagues, not friends. But you have to start somewhere.

Or

A small whumpy coda to S2 (show)/Dead Lions (book).

[fantastic-nonsense]

Wicked Act 2 is only a tragedy for Elphaba and Glinda. It's a Grade A comedy for everyone else