#i reblog it SO FAST (that is. as soon as i see it 🤭🤭)

[safyresky]

Dani i'm cracking up because we've actually managed to turn the tides of that Jack Frost smashability poll 😂❄️❄️❄️ IT'S A FROSTMAS MIRACLE

THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WAS HOPING FOR!!! AYO!!!!

(the poll in question for anyone who's missed it 👀)

[peachysunrize]

Victory ⥃ boxer!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after his match, you find him in the locker room and decide to tend to him yourself. Rest assured, the rush of adrenaline in his blood leads to you rewarding him for winning the game.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, porn without plot, breeding, no prep, boxer aemond, bruise & wounds & blood, dirty talk, tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: based on this thot I got yesterday! Anon, if you see this, you made my day with this very very insane ask and I hope this does your thot justice🤭 beta-read by beloved @namelesslosers <3 Reblogs & comments are most appreciated!

You used to hate it at first when you started dating. All the bruises and wounds made your heart clench so hard that you cried for him every day while tending to him.

But now? You have toughened up, and Aemond has gotten better, much better in fact, that he’s now fighting for the semi-final of the season against Cregan Stark. 

You remember how he’s always hard on himself when he focuses on a goal he sets, and the past few months have been pretty rough on both of you. However hard to maintain and deal with, you can’t deny how hot it was to have your boyfriend all sweaty and topless throwing punches at his coach, groaning and yelling with each movement.

You watch his platinum hair swing with each punch and dodge in his ponytail, his long limbs harshly knocking his opponent down on the ground. You stand beside Criston, fingers fiddling with the necklace Aemond had given you as a promise of his undying love while he risks his life in the ring.

Cregan, the bulky man he is, launches at Aemond, punching him right in his nose. You can hear the groan of pain that leaves your boyfriend’s lips, but soon, he has cornered Cregan, his fists coming down on his opponent’s face at a fast pace that knocks the poor guy out in less than a minute.

The fight has ended, and your Aemond stands with the judge holding his arm up as the winner, winking at you as the blood drips from his nose and lips, his remaining good eye shining with pride.

He truly makes a sight for sore eyes; silver hair unruly from all the jumping, abs covered in a thin layer of sweat, a very smug smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. The thought of this man being yours makes you desire him even more.

You clap for him, screaming and rooting with Criston and his family from the audience until they lead him to his locker room to tend to him. You follow them closely, finding Aemond sitting on one of the benches with a fresh towel thrown over his shoulders as he takes a swig from the bottle with an open mouth, water dripping on his chin and chest, creating an even more lewd sight for you to devour.

��Leave us please, thank you,” Aemond says, beckoning for you to get closer as soon as his team empties the room for the two of you. 

“Congratulations on your victory, Mr. Targaryen,” you say, stepping towards him slowly, sultry, reaching to caress his angular jawline as he spreads his thighs for you, making room to stand before him.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he replies, dropping his bottle on the floor before his gloves and hands make a home on your thighs, slowly caressing the flesh, nodding when you show him the kit his doctor has laid next to him to tend to his wounds.

He visibly relaxes under your touch, wincing and exhaling sharply as you slowly clean the blood off of him, one hand holding his face straight gently while the other dabs a wet clean cloth with betadine around the open wounds. He is gazing up at you through his long light lashes, his thin lips curled into a smirk as he basks in your warm and welcoming touch.

You press a kiss to his forehead, grimacing when your eyes fall on the bruises on his nose and close to his good eye, shaking your head in disapproval. You know there won’t be a change, but you will tell him silently that you don’t wish to see him hurt, that he should care more about his health rather than these games that put his life in dear danger.

You help him pull his hands out of the boxing gloves, the fabric of the gloves torn and your boyfriend’s knuckles are bloody and bruised as well. Sighing softly, you grab his hand, bringing it to your mouth before pressing gentle kisses over the wounds.

He hums softly, his free hand coming back to rest on your thigh, observing you closely as you lean down again to clean his face, wiping the remaining sweat and blood off his skin. His fingers trace shapes on the curve of your ass, long digits praising you wordlessly on your choice of wearing a dress, making it much easier for him to ogle at you.

You can feel the path his eye takes when he lifts the hem of your dress a little, humming with every inch of your skin that comes into his view. You grip his jaw tighter, forcing him to look up at you.

“I have a pretty face, you should keep your eyes on that and your hands to yourself,” you whisper, leaning down to press a warm kiss on the bruise on his nose, “maybe I’ll take pity on you later when we get home.”

“You do have a pretty face, sweetheart,” he says, staring at you with his hooded eye, hands creeping up to your buttocks, “but I need more than just that. Maybe you can offer me your pretty cunt as a reward? I won the game, I deserve it.”

“You need to stay still and stop talking,” you giggle when he pinches your flesh playfully, pulling you even closer to have a better view of your teats in front of his face, “I won’t give you a reward for not getting yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on—” With a tight grip on your waist, he pulls you down on his lap, forcing you to straddle him with your legs on each side of his thighs. You squeal, arms coming down to wrap themselves around his broad shoulders, “stop playing coy with me. I saw you rubbing these pretty thighs together when I had Stark on the mat, punching him in the guy. I’m more observant than you think.”

“Are you now?” You hum when you feel the subtle bulge in his shorts, “so observant, so strong,” you mumble against his cheek, starting kissing his jaw down to his ear, letting him grind your hips down against his growing desire.

“Hmm, baby, I need you,” he tilts his head, giving you more space to prep his neck with kisses, licking a drop of sweat from his throat to the side of his jaw, sinking your teeth into his skin slightly before he grows impatient and cups your cheek and guides your lips to his, his mouth claiming yours in a deep passionate kiss.

Your tongue moves along his, fighting for dominance which you lose pretty quickly. You reach around his head to pull the hair tie off, letting his silver locks fall freely on his shoulders while he kisses you for a long hot minute, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Let me take care of you, my victorious man,” you mutter against his lips as the two of you breathe the little air between your faces, your clothed pussy rubbing against the rough fabric of his shorts with each move.

He groans against you, his restrain running thin with each second that you spend on marking his already marked neck, hips snapping up into you desperately. But he is not known for his patience, nor his temperament, so when he grabs your face, his bruised fingers digging into your cheeks, you know what is about to come.

“Be a good girl and take out my cock, I can’t wait any longer for you to be gentle with me,” he growls against your lips, his fingers pushing your panties to the side, “I won’t consider myself a winner if I don’t make you come on my cock at least two times.”

You whimper pathetically, reaching inside his boxer shorts to pull out his already leaking shaft, stroking him to full hardness. He is twitching in your palm, his heat and girth make your mouth water, and the way his fingers caress your inner thighs only urge you to guide him closer to you. 

Holding yourself up a bit with your knees on the bench he’s sitting on, your lips meet his in a messy kiss as you sit on his cock slowly, feeling the beat of his heart against yours with how hard adrenaline is pumping through his veins.

His cockhead breaches your wet entrance, making the two of you gasp and whine as your warm walls envelop him slowly with every inch of him you take inside you. 

“Good girl, taking me so well,” he says with a raspy chuckle, his large hands covering your ass completely as he helps you sheath his cock deep inside you fully, “prettiest girl with the prettiest cunt, now ride me, baby. Make a winner out of me.”

Your brain is already mush, you nod at him, hands bracing themselves against his shoulders as you roll your hips to his liking, skin melting against the skin with each move and grind.

He reaches to pull down the neckline of your dress, leaning down to litter butterfly kisses all over the top of your breasts while he helps you move up and down his cock quicker.

You know what he wants, what he needs, so with one tug, your teats are free from the confine of your bra, and Aemond latches onto your nipple like a starved baby needing to be fed — although he is anything but a baby with how roughly he bites and sucks on your bud, blowing air on the wet flesh that has you shivering and moaning out his name in pleasure.

Matching your enthusiasm, Aemond plants his feet on the ground, snapping his hips up into yours at a wild pace, fucking your heavenly cunt at a brutal pace that has you biting his shoulders to muffle your cries of euphoria.

His nails dig into your flesh while his bruised and bloodied face searches yours for his tongue to lick its way into your mouth. Aemond keeps up his fast pace, pistoning his cock into you with abandon as he bites your bottom lip and sucks on your tongue.

Your release is swift and smooth and world-shattering — your vision goes white for a second when the tip of his dick jackhammers your sweet spot for a good minute. Gushing around his girth, you moan into his mouth as your wetness drips out of you with each rough thrust.

Aemond somehow fastens his movements, driving his cock up into your soaked pussy quicker, deeper, and rougher if possible, chasing his sweet release. His breaking point is when you whisper in his ear about how sexy he looked when he was beating Cregan to the pulp, how you wish he would manhandle you on his bed and fucking you like you mean nothing to him.

He comes harder than ever with a loud groan of your name, hands clamping hard on your waist that you are sure there’ll be bruises that match his in a few hours. He fills you with his hot cum to the brim, his cock twitching deep within your core as he gives you all he has.

Breathless but not done, he kisses the corner of your mouth and whispers, “What a good fucking girl for me. Now, you need to give me the other half of my prize.”

[newkatzkafe2023]

So...Black Myth Wukong and D.O meeting Pucca Reader? I mean this has got to be a trip for them, right?

OHHHHHHHHHH this is gonna be so fun🤩😈

(Lmk Wukong) He heard of a immortal monkey woman in a red dress💃. Wukong was curious about it and went to see learn and gather information, on this woman and he quickly learn that it was you. Wukong soon found himself observing you on your daily life, and boy was he in for a surprise. One day you have been punching though mountains to make passage ways for travelers, and his jaw was on the ground. Then The next week you were doing errands for some old couples he saw you running so fast you split the water in two, blowing Wukong's mind when he was sitting on his nimbus. The final straw was when Erlang had come for a rematch, Wukong was ever so shocked no he was speechless. when you showed up in your Storm goddess mode and took his floating staff and gave Erlang a life changing but PTSD inducing experience making sure he wouldn't mess with you or Wukong. At the end of everything he learned, you are the red dress goddess and he would be blessed you be married to you in the future. If it was up to you, the wedding would be tomorrow😉🤭

(Destined one) When you first saw him, it was love at first sight he was silently looking and stern, but he was perfect to you. You have been in a state of depression for years because your adopted uncles had died, but then one day, you saw him. You cooed at him and ran over to hug him, now as for the destined one, he was baffled by you, a female stone monkey red dress. The Destined One quickly became the object of your affection, and with that, you went off to help him on his journey. You had continuously impressed him with your skills, especially when fighting the other celestials, such as punching and breaking boulders and lifting and throwing mountains. Splitting oceans in half during the fight with the dragons and spinning and creating tornados while breaking the sound barrier. The Destined one was slowly getting scared of your so-called powers, and the final straw being when he was knocked down, you growled in your storm goddess form and beat the crap out of Erlang with his own staff. The Destined one was your silent Garu and you would Guard and support him with everything and the Destined one will do the same.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😘

[deepperplexity]

Deep breath, and stave off the smile, your eyes water when you smile too wide, Plex...

GIIIIIRL! What in the bloody unicorn reindeer was that?! Are you okay? My eardrum damn near burst from that! Gosh, blimey, are you trying to make me deaf you silly-nilly? 😂😉

Also, I'm dying over here, you are so spot on and this essay has me kicking my legs and giggling and my cheeks are now hurting from all the smiling - girl, you got me good with this comment and I literally had to collect myself before answering 'cus this is TOO MUCH JOY IN ONE GO, 'kay? Gosh, you'll give me a heart attack with all this goodness and serotonin overflow! (Not complaining though, nu-uh!)

And THANK YOU for appreciating how much effort I put into my writing, making sure to get the language as right as I possibly can, to play on the time of it all, the character's origin, all of it - gosh, I really feel like it's all worth it when I get comments like this... (I'm not bawling, you are!) this fic really was my best and most intense attempt at the rom-com feel and I did all I could to make you have a really good and fun time but keeping it good at the same time, you know? So this means the world to me... I'm truly so grateful.

And yeah, you know me, I like to do my research, so ofc I'll share the link - if you go on the page and click gallery you can watch a video of most of the places I described too (also, thank you for saying my description was enough for you to see it so clearly!) so you can really feel it (minus the Christmas theme ofc) - I really do try, ya' know? It's worth it, and it makes me so happy to hear it's appreciated 🙈🥰👏

this -> (squints with Anna Lousie as we both are like i get what u mean sir but that's not entirely correct , still love u 😌) HAS ME LAUGHING TOO HARD and I'm so happy you're loving the nicknames, I'm starting to run out of nicknames, gosh, I've used so many nicknames and come up with the oddest of nicknames that work within a certain setting and sounds sweet and natural but it's getting HARD 😅 I'll keep on bringing you nicknames though! I shall endeavour to always please you, darling!

We love cats, and it's not Ferdinand's fault, pour kitty is feral 'cus of her sister's bad treatment - I mean, sure, Anna-Lousie could probably straighten him out but he'll probably always be a bit feral now - let's hope sis keeps him and ahs to deal with the problem she created, eh? 🤭🙈

She is a bit up in the clouds, but, I mean, come on, would you be nosey or just roll with it when assuming you met a very upstanding man who's all shades of kind, gentle and caring, patient and sweet and all things good? I wouldn't rock the boat 👀 No sir, I'll just assume the best until I'm proven otherwise - let me live in my delulu world!

I love a five point essay, you know I'm weak for your commentary darling - for any and all commentary really ❤❤❤ (yeah, I'm such a little slut for comments, not even gonna feel guilty about it, just be appreciative of every word I am gifted) and I'm more than thrilled to see you're so excited! I'M SUPER EXCITED ABOUT THESE TWO TOO! Like, I want to know what happens - I can't write fast enough apparently. I've just spent close to two hours getting back on track with all the comments and reblogs (had the time of my life - it seems the party is 90% on tumblr and not AO3 this year) and I'm gonna try to start writing tomorrow fic as soon s I've replied to this beautiful essay for yours 😘👏 And do feel free to show up at any point to scream at me, just don't make me deaf pretty please, 'kay? 😉

And no! You can't choose both, only one! ONE! Make your choice! And surrender your Christmas to the choice you make, only one shall be accepted or there shall be no Christmas for you - mowahahahahah 😈

Also, your tags... like, you really out there apologising for your essay comment and "plex stays going hard" 😂😂😂😂 Maybe I should apologies for this essay in return too? (Sorry dash, we just be vibing, you see...)

Prompt: 11. Imperfect Holiday [D1]

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Train heading north through the English countryside

Continuation of: RICKMAS2022 Prompts 14. Icy Roads & 15. Frosty Glass

A/N: It’s been a year! Well, three days short of a year but still a year! And I’ve had so many messages, lots of asking about Hans and Anna-Louise — how it turns out, if she finds out who he really is, how she reacts to it if so, and everything else. I’m honestly so thrilled this story caught so many darlings’ attention and I’m more than happy to continue this story. As I write this it’s 16.09 the 10th of December and I’ve yet to actually start writing - the past few days have been hectic and my little one has been sick so there’s been need of extra cuddles which hasn’t allowed me to write until now. But I’m excited! (Continuing this note after I’ve written the fic…)

Okay, so, this turned out to be bloody long - again, why do I do this to myself? Especially on days I have so little time 😅👍 I’m very happy with the continuation of this story though, and in true Hans x Anna-Louise spirit, there will be one more part this RICKMAS - two parts, just like last year, and I’ll probably make it tomorrows prompt actually - why not? It matches up well and I’m sure to have a bloody war with the keyboard yesterday as well given I tend to make these fics longer. WORTH IT THOUGH! 🙈👏

Tags/TW’s: Different Lifestyles, Running Away (technically), Self Doubt, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, Caring, Hand Holding, Being Spoiled A Little, Falling In Love, Unmarked One Bed Trope, Motion Sickness, H/C, Patient MMC/Anxious FMC, Following One’s Heart, Secret Identity

Recap of last year’s fics: Anna-Louise (Lulu/Schnuki) Humphrey met Hans Gruber a snowy evening when he pushed her out of the way of an oncoming car while she were slipping around on an icy road in the middle of her run-down hometown. He captivated her with his handsome features and eyes that seemed to truly see her, and he was in turn captivated by her, seeing much potential and sweetness.

When they met again at the little café where Martha (the old lady with a fat dog and a cane she liked to swat at peoples legs) exclaimed him to be a handsome gentleman while Anna-Louise did all she could not to die of embarrassment at the old lady’s choices of conversation they ended up talking about her coming with him. Anna-Louise told Hans that was how to get kidnapped one-o-one but Hans pointed out he felt they were far more than mere strangers.

All her life she had been treated like a nuisance, a person not even worth mentioning by her full name — sometimes just as blabber missy even — and she had longed for years to leave. But she’d been frightened, fearing she’d end up a lonely puddle of anxiety more than anything. Yet, Anna-Louise ended up running to the train station at nine in the evening, hoping he would be there, and of course, he was. They left the poor little town together on the train heading north after sharing a toe-curling embrace where Hans kissed her forehead while calling her Schnuki and his sweet treat…

Word Count: 4.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

The train lurched into action and my stomach dropped. I was a silly-nilly, a delulu Lulu truly. It’s all gone pear-shaped now, hasn’t it? Dad won’t make it without me, sis will be a furious mess for him to deal with when Ferdinand’s litter box needs cleaning and when he needs his weekly bath with the oils and nobody will do the laundry, and the bins, it’ll pile over and— But my eyes went to Hans at that moment — sitting opposite me in a private cabin with red chequered seating and walnut furnish — and my rampant thoughts calmed down.

He watched me, his undivided attention fully on me. I wanted to squirm under his clear eyes yet I remained still, feeling wholly seen and wanted by that mere look of his. “Is my mind in a hoax with my eyes?” he asked, making me scrunch my brows. “I can’t believe you are actually sitting there, here, with me.” My cheeks burned at his words, spoken in that German accent of his. “I can’t believe it myself to be honest. I feel… Stupid.” “Stupid?” he asked, his eyes widening while his brows shot up. “This is a thing of romance movies and hostage situations, perhaps a police chase movie with bombs and exploding train tracks that’ll force the passengers to jump into the snow at break-neck speeds and run for their lives or—” I clamped my mouth shut. “Sorry, rambling again…”

Hans tilted his head, one leg crossed over the other with his coat only resting atop his shoulders, watching me with a small smirk. He was too bloody handsome. My very bones felt warmed by that daftly charming smirk. It wasn’t as devastatingly chaos-wrecking as his smile though. I liked both equally either way.

“You are worried, no?” he asked. “Worried?” “Well, you said it yourself, we are strangers and it is kidnapping one-o-one for a woman not to go anywhere with a stranger, especially a man. Yet,” he held out his hands, “here you are. Having boarded a train taking you anywhere.” The fact he remembered exactly what I’d said had my heart performing a stutter before my mind kicked into gear. “Not anywhere, last station is Durham, I’ve wanted to take this train many times. Not that I ever thought I would, I kept track, pun not intended mind you, but I never thought I’d actually get on, you know? Where would I go? I have nowhere to go, never had anywhere to go, and why would I leave when my family needs me,” I rambled on, my nerves getting the better of me again. Stop, stop, just, stop, or he’ll kick you off the train before you can say you’re a blabber missy. God, I’m so annoying.

“Well, you are correct, schnuki. The last station is Durham. The rest of your words, I can’t deem as right.” “What? Why?” “You have everywhere to go, many things to see and experience. Your family treats you poorly and I, for one, do not accept someone as bright and sweet as you to be kept bound to such a terrible fate. Cat claws and mints, doing other people’s bidding at all times.” He watched me most intently as he spoke, goosebumps travelled down my spine when he spoke of doing other people’s bidding, the words felt two-fold for some reason I couldn’t wrap my thought-riddled head around.

“You’re rather blunt, you know.” I thought that from the very start so maybe it’s a trait of his? Or a German thing? Martha would have a field day if he were to join for crisply burnt biscuits and cold tea next Thurs— Ah, right… “Schnuki?” I shook my head to focus on the man and not my bloody overwhelming thoughts. “Are you well?” he continued. “S-sorry, just, lots of thoughts.” “Speak them,” he said, leaning back and getting comfortable (at least it looked like it).

I blinked at him for a moment, my hand squeezing the edge of my duffel bag beside me while I did all I could not to weep at those words. He probably thought little of them, but they had me gobsmacked. “Speak them?” “Yes, you know, say them out loud. Is that not the term in England? Works fine in America.” I chuckled while my entire face heated. “Yeah, sure, it’s right but… I talk enough as it is.” “I doubt you could ever talk enough, schnuki,” he said with a deep chuckle.

My face sank, my shoulders slouched and I felt a million utterances of blabber missy and shut it, Lulu attack me from within. From the past. The very, very recent past. But Hans wasn’t like that, he wasn’t some prick spilling poppycock into my ear or forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do. No, he made me do something I’d dreamt myself blue about.

The plush bench beneath me sank on my left side, Hans sat right next to me and I hadn’t even noticed he’d moved. His hand enveloped mine, my eyes turned wide while he squeezed my still-scratched-up skin — Ferdinand was probably at the top of the tree now, swatting at tinsel and knocking off the star at the top while I was nowhere in sight and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel knowing the feral kitty wouldn’t be fully cared for. Would he end up on the street or could I at least count on sis keeping him, and feeding him?

“You are brave, my sweet treat,” Hans said. “I will not allow you to squander your life away any longer, understand me?” he continued and I gulped down a breath before nodding, my constant stream of words quiet for the moment. My insides were in shambles over the sudden close contact though, he was so warm, and he smelt like mint— No, not mint, menthol. Menthol and ginger, and something… something else I’ve never smelt before. “Speak those thoughts,” Hans said beside me. “You smell good,” I blurted out without thinking first.

My ears were given a cacophony of his laugh, deep and rumblingly loud — it was perfect. “You smell like a treat,” Hans said and smiled at me after he’d stopped laughing. “A sweet treat.” “Oh, it’s my shower gel, it’s scented like gingerbread cookies.” “Ah, yes, that’s the smell, partly at least. There’s more to it though.” “More?” “Yes, something incredibly sweet,” Hans continued and we fell silent as our eyes locked. His were so clear, so open, and endlessly bright with sprinkles of grey within the blue I hadn’t noticed before. Blimey, you’re perfection… “I’d say that’s you,” he said softly and I blinked. “Did-, did I say that aloud?” He chuckled and leaned in, kissing my temple, while he rumbled a deep “yes”.

My cheeks burned, feeling bloody mortified and flustered. “Oh,” I managed and he squeezed my hand. “You have the brightest of voices, schnuki. Speak as much as you need,” he assured and what on earth was I supposed to think of that? Nobody had ever said such a thing before, my voice was annoying and far too shrill, and used too often too — ask anyone, I’m a blabbering nuisance.

We fell into a stiff silence, but he never let go of my hand and the train chugged onward toward the north with the winter wonderland hidden in darkness outside the window only reflecting the inside of the space we sat in. Hans urged me to get some sleep, we were apparently a few hours away from our stop, but how could I possibly sleep with adrenaline and nerves turning me into a mess? I felt a sandwich short of a picnic, as if I’d gone completely bonkers — the entire situation was madness, and what if it all went to pot? Dad and sis would take the Mickey out of me if I returned home after a few days, they’d know I tried to get away and have a laugh at my uselessness…

Hans had already drifted off to sleep beside me, his hand softly clasped around my smaller one while my entire body gravitated toward his. He was warm, sturdy, and I couldn’t help but lean against him while my eyelids drooped. It was close to midnight I think when I finally dozed off, my head still spinning with questions and worries of all kinds.

***

Hans called my name just as I chased Ferdinand through the house to snag him up in a towel after his weekly bath. He hissed and roared in a manner no kitty was ever supposed to, I clamped down on him, rubbing with the towel when Hans called my name again. My home evaporated and I found myself back on the train, clamping down on Hans’ hand too harshly. I let go and scooted to the side a bit.

“Dreams?” “Just, yeah, Ferdinand needed a bath and I had to dry him and rub him with a— Oh, you don’t need to know that, sorry,” I said while my voice went from hoarse to its usual state. “The cat?” “Yeah, right, sis’ cat. He’s a feral thing, he’s sweet, but he’s… Sorry…” He nodded and reached out to grab my hand anew, little indents from my nails littered his skin, just beneath his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I-, I didn’t mean to scratch you.” “This?” he asked, holding our joined hands up. “It’s nothing, don’t fret over it, sweet treat,” he continued and kissed my fingers one at a time — I was sent into a burning heaven of warmth by the action.

The train came to a halt and my sluggish brain went into overdrive again as Hans let go of me and stood. “This is us,” he said and the speakers sparked to life with a woman saying “Darlington Station” and then repeated it once more. “We’re off here?” I asked and he nodded while grabbing my bag for me. He had no luggage at all it seemed.

My nose wrinkled at the sight, he walked ahead of me as the doors were too narrow for us both to go through and the lane just as tight. My bag looked beyond cheap when slung over his shoulder dressed with a seemingly incredibly expensive coat, and the Oxfords on his feet paired with the grey linen trousers matched so perfectly that my bag stood out like a ragged reindeer among Arabian horses.

He took my hand the moment we stepped off the train, the station lay nearly deserted so there was no need to stick close yet he kept me right by his side. “I can carry that myself, you know,” I said and he nearly glared at me. “No.” “I’m perfectly capable—” “I’m aware, but just because a lady is capable doesn’t mean she should. You should know how to change a tire, but you shouldn’t have to do it. You are perfectly capable of carrying your bag, but I will not allow it when I can do such a thing for you, schnuki.” “O-oh…” I whispered, my cheeks once more burning hot while he smirked at me and squeezed my hand.

We moved across the street to a car park with snow crunching beneath our feet. Hans released my hand and bent down by a gorgeous car — it was sleek and maroon blue with an air of richness to it. It looked like it hadn’t been parked there for very long though. He dragged his hand by the wheel and produced a set of keys.

“This is yours?” “Rental,” he said. “Allow me.” He opened the passenger door like a gentleman and I slunk inside, keeping my feet outside the door to dunk them against each other not to drag in more snow than needed. The creamy leather smelled divine even if it were terribly cold, my old jeans did little to keep the chill of the seat from crawling into my skin and up my spine while Hans dropped my bag in the trunk and slid into the driver’s side.

The engine purred to life and I buckled up. “Good girl,” he said and gave the strap over my upper body a tug, cinching it across my middle at the same time. “There, perfectly strapped,” he continued with a cheeky grin and began backing out of the lot while I gaped at him.

Hans drove with skill and ease, weaving through the streets, taking several turns along smaller ones with tightly packed buildings dressed in Christmas lights standing on each side before the open road lay before us and my eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.��Should have grabbed my motion sickness patches, I thought while my stomach protested and the back of my mouth filled with saliva I struggled to swallow.

“Are we driving far?” I asked, my voice quieter than usual as I gripped the car door to make my body feel a bit more stable, it usually helped the motion sickness a wee bit at least. “Twenty minutes, given the roads are clear. Why?” Hans glanced toward me and his eyes widened. I was probably a bit pale. “Motion sickness,” I said, slightly shamed by being a nuisance once more. “I’ll drive as steadily as I can. Is it speed, turns or the motion in general?” he asked and I gaped at him, feeling like my jaw got too much exercise since I met him. The care and interest he showed in everything regarding me was insane. “Acceleration and unsteadiness,” I confirmed to be the worst parts for me. “But you drive really well.” “I’ll do my best to keep steady, schnuki.”

Hans eventually slowed down when we entered a narrower street lined by giant trees void of greenery. It was still pretty though. “Here we are,” he said and steadily slowed down before making a smooth turn into a giant estate with several brick buildings. It was absolutely beautiful but truth be told I just wanted out of the car to breathe some fresh are and stave off the motion sickness. The red sign at the end of the driveway dressed with garlands and twinkling lights said Headlam Hall, Rural Resort & Spa in golden letters.

I was out the door as soon as the car stood still. Hans came around and stroked my back a few seconds later while I breathed deeply to take away the worst illness. The fresh air was wonderfully clean and crisp. A faint scent of cinnamon and hay lingered within it and I honestly couldn’t say I disliked that particular smell. Smelled like Christmas on the countryside.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, his care beyond sweet. “Yeah, just need some air, it’ll pass in a few minutes. Sorry for being such a nuisance, Hans.” “Don’t say such a thing.” He looked almost offended at the words. “What thing?” “You are in no way a nuisance. Had I known I would have procured some pills for you.” “That’s my responsibility, I have patches at home, crazy how well they work for me without side effects. Should have grabbed them, but I packed so fast. Martha got them for me, some Chinese shop had them when she was in London visiting her sister. They’re bloody brilliant really, the pills always make me drowsy for over a day, and I— Oh, sorry, rambling,” I said and stopped myself from spewing more unnecessary words by taking a deep breath. “Stop gifting me words in your sweet voice only to apologize for it,” Hans said gently and kissed my temple. I shivered in my thin, tattered jacket and he fetched my bag while I tried to steady my legs — if it were his sweetness or the motion sickness making me wobbly I couldn’t really tell.

I was in some form of an awed daze while Hans led me inside the three-story brick building covered in vines that still held their leaves even in winter. The building was beautifully decorated with fairy lights around windows and the roof, with a blanket of snow all around it looked like it was taken out of one of those Christmas rom-coms where they needed to save the inn only to end up falling in love and living happily ever after (after some sappy words or cringe-worthy kissing scene).

The reception area was spotless, a beautiful mix of modern and classic English style that made me feel completely misplaced. It was rich, luxurious, and far beyond anything I’d ever dreamt of experiencing up close. Unlike the little café in my hometown with its tacky santas, plastic garlands, and altogether jumbled decorations this place was stunningly decorated in red and gold with real trees and boughs. I felt truly out of my depth. But Hans, well, he moved with an air of belonging to him, his strides confident and his whole look made it feel as if it were an obvious thing he belonged in such surroundings.

I kept looking around, nearly twisting my neck off to see without moving my legs, and Hans got our room sorted and declined any attempts of the receptionist to ring for someone to show him to it. He ended up leading us through the building, past a modern bar with a burning fireplace and sitting area next to it, through a big room with several seating areas, up some stairs, and through some hallways. It was as if he knew where he was going, as if he’d been there before. I merely followed like a lost puppy.

The room was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous with hints of tweed fabric, deeply rich wooden furnishing, and pale beige and white fabrics that soften it all. Tasteful Christmas decorations were placed in perfect spots and there was even a little hearth in the room, with two winged-backed chairs and a little table in front of it as well as two stockings hanging from the mantel. The giant four-poster bed screamed for me to lay down but the bathroom off to the side called for me even more.

Hans came up behind me, setting my bag on the floor before wrapping me in his arms, holding my back toward his front while my heart hammered as if I were some silly little schoolgirl with an irrevocable crush and filled with unruly hormones. “How about a bath before bed?” he rumbled by my ear and I nodded, lost for words by how closely he held me. “I’ll sort the room and you go relax, schnuki. Take a bath, and then we’ll turn in for the night.” “Sounds good,” I managed to say while he kissed my temple quickly before letting me go.

I ended up taking a long shower rather than a bath. I was too tired to wait for the tub to fill and it felt like a waste when I hadn’t the energy to really enjoy a long soaking. Hans didn’t bother me, even if I had left the door unlocked. As I dried my hair, while wrapped in the lushest of white robes, my tired body began to tremble. My hands worst of all while my legs felt like overcooked spaghetti strings beneath me.

I sank down on the chair by the claw-footed tub, squeezing the towel in my hands to try and stop the shaking. I left. I really left. And I’m in a spa resort, with a German bloke I don’t know. I’m a bloody moron for all of this. Am I completely daft? I’m usually not some muppet, but this is beyond stupid. I can’t even get home if I want to, not that I want to. I don’t want to, why don’t I want to go home? Shouldn’t I want to be with my family and all that good old hometown fluffing people always talk about? Especially during Christmas no matter that I know it would be a more than imperfect holiday, a disaster as usual, with things for all others and none for me but those from Santa that really are just from me to me. I'd probably end up wailing in bed with my face pressed into the damn pillow, just like every year...

A knock at the door interrupted my, rambling, pittyfull thoughts. “Yeah?” “Are you dressed?” he asked. “I’m in a robe.” The door opened the next second and I did all I bloody could to stop my hands from shaking and my face from betraying my anxious state. “Schnuki, my sweet treat, are you alright?” Hans asked while he stepped up to me, sinking to one knee while wrapping up my hands, still holding the wet towel, in his. “I’m— Well— I am, I am but, I’m not. I should be, and I am, but not really no.” I made no sense.

“Let’s get you to bed, you need sleep. Did you eat before meeting me?” “No, no Dad had his pals for poker and sis had me running to the shop for a new lipstick and then I packed, and I tried to make sure Ferdinand would have enough food and I did his litter box, cleaned it fully and put new sand and everything and I took out the trash and started a load of laundry and then I packed, and I cleaned my room and stripped the bed so—” “Schnuki, my sweet treat, calm down for me,” he said and cupped my face with his hands, his eyes holding mine steadily while I stopped rambling; in a rush to explain myself to the best of my capabilities so he would understand why I hadn’t eaten.

“There’s a silk pyjama on the bed for you,” he said, talking softly as if I were some delicate thing needing gentle care. “I’ll order some room service and you’ll eat before we sleep. Eggs and bacon, sound good?” “Y-yeah,” I exhaled, feeling all degrees of spoiled and pampered, cared for, and baffled by the warmth it filled my stupidly thundering heart with. I’m such a silly-nilly… I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been right two days ago, about Christmas being the time for kindness and care, perhaps this Christmas would be one like that for me?

“Alright then. I need to make a call, I’ll be on the balcony.” “There’s a balcony?” I asked, my eyes widening, and he smirked with a cheeky look. “We’ll have breakfast with blankets out there tomorrow, sound good? The view is fantastic you see.” “Oh, oh yeah, sounds brilliant,” I replied and he kissed my forehead most softly before leaving me to dry off my hair completely. That I wished to know what those lips felt like against my own was a thought I couldn’t quite get to pipe down. I bet he’s brilliant at kissing, nothing like Bobby Parker… I shuddered at the memory of my first kiss, and soon enough my mind ping-ponged like a rabbit between holes in the ground with memories of the kisses I’d had in life.

Bloody hell, I’ve had terrible luck in the love department… Well, the kissing department, I’ve never fallen in love with anyone. Maybe it’s all the blokes unable to kiss making me unable to fall in love. But I knew it was a place thing, rather than anything else. Living in a tiny town had few options lining themselves up, and with my sis being the pretty and popular one I stood even less of a chance. Every bloke I’d ever kissed she’d already been pawing in one way or another only to lose interest.

I hung the towel to dry and left the bathroom only to see the lilac-coloured pyjama set of silk on the giant bed. It looked like pure luxury. I’m supposed to wear that? I couldn’t do it, so I rummaged around in my bag for my old flannel pyjama bottoms and my old Bowie tee washed out completely and worn at the seams with a little hole right where I always fiddled with the hem. I glanced at the lilac silk once more before scurrying back into the bathroom and changing.

I walked over to the balcony door, finding Hans pacing on the other side of the glass in just his linen trousers and white shirt, his red tie still firmly secured too. He looked good enough to eat whole. Don’t be daft, Lulu…

As he paced back and forth I could hear a muffled snippet of his conversation every time he was close to the door. Words of stocks and vaults, then words of exits and insurances. Perhaps he worked on the stock market? Or a bank? He looked the part, like one of those Wall Street blokes you’d see on TV from time to time. Just, less dishevelled and without the crazed look of rapid exchanges needing one’s full attention.

“We will be in and out in four minutes,” he said while stopping with his back toward the door. I saw him fully through the sheer curtains but he hadn’t taken any notice of me. “Alex can crack it, Henry will be in the car and it’ll be smooth sailing. I’m close to Newcastle, picked up a little something special on the way so I’m a day late and will be two days late getting there. Can I trust you to handle getting the team set up and ready to go in four days? Friday’s are checking days, it’ll be stocked.” I wasn’t sure what the bloody hell I was hearing but it sounded important. His voice was so much harder than when he spoke to me, and clipped in a different way entirely. The sweetness and care had vanished, leaving only a decisive deep voice behind. A commanding one at that.

He ended the call and I scurried back to my bag, rummaging through it, pretending to search for something when the door opened and closed behind me. For some daft reason, I wasn’t scared despite the red flag of him being so different on the phone. Nothing about Hans scared me, not even being in the dark about who he was. He was Hans, he cared and he listened. He tended to me and took me away from the place I’d been dreaming of escaping for years but never dared to leave. He saved my life the very first time we met. I don’t know anyone who’d put themselves in harm’s way for others… Especially not any stranger in the middle of the road.

“Schnuki, what’s this?” he asked and I half turned my head, still kneeling on the floor by the foot of the bed with my hands in my bags. “Do you not like my present for you?” he asked with a glance toward the pyjama set. “You bought them?” I asked while straightening, abandoning my pretend hunt. “Yes.” When? “I love them,” I confessed. “But I can’t wear that.” “ That ? Something wrong with them?” “No, no! They’re perfect and pretty and super soft and a beautiful colour and everything,” I rushed out. “They’re just… expensive looking. I don’t wanna ruin them, you know?” “Ruin them? By wearing them as intended?” Sure, when you say it like that it sounds as silly as a goose having shoes and a bonnet.

Hans stepped closer, his eyes roaming over my form hidden beneath the loose, tattered fabric I wore. He tugged me into his arms and I gasped at the sudden closeness. He was still so warm, despite having been out in the cold English winter for several minutes. “Anna-Louise,” he said gently, “you ought to get accustomed to wearing fancy things, and eating good food, being in luxurious surroundings. I won’t have you in anything less than that.” “Hans… What-, what do you mean? I’m perfectly fine with way less, I don’t need all that fancy stuff. I’m used to—” “You’ll get used to better things quickly enough, schnuki,” he interrupted. “Hans, we barely know each other, you can’t lavish me with things like that.” “Don’t say such a thing.” “That I don’t want to be lavished upon like some fancy old lady sitting in parlours sipping tea in expensive silk while waiting for her dear husband to return home from some overseas journey?” I joked while giggling, but he didn’t laugh. “Hans?” “I do a lot of business overseas, would it be terrible of me to wish to come home to you, waiting in pretty silk, after each trip?”

He took a step back while I tried to take in what he’d said. Our eyes locked together and I damn near couldn’t breathe as he looked at me with such longing. “In pretty silk?” I whispered, wholly overwhelmed and wondering what kind of rich man I’d stumbled upon. “All finery imaginable,” he said with a nod. “Why would you want me?” I asked, for the first time posing the question which had been bugging me for a long time without me realising it. “Why would I not want you?” he asked, but before I could ramble a number of reasons, he kissed me.

I melted. He kissed me softly but with urgency, his thin lips perfect against mine. He kissed me so well my foot came off the bloody floor like in a sappy romance movie, I couldn’t help it. Fireworks exploded in my veins, my mind turned utterly quiet and nothing in the world mattered but him holding me close, kissing me with passion and longing leaking out of him with a dark hum while his arms tightened around me.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh boy... this really did turn out to be quite long but gosh I love these two so much I can't help but wanting to write for them - and it's just too much fun too 😂👏 I hope you enjoyed the continuation of this story from last year and as I said above there will be one more part to this story tomorrow! Hope you're excited for even more of these two and the secrets they carry along with the love that's flourishing between them 🥰❤

Q: Would you rather spend Christmas at a big resort, with all amenities, or a small town in a picturesque cottage? 🎄 A: I'll take the cottage - I do love those cosy vibes and I don't mind having to stoke a fire and wear an extra jumper and socks 🥰

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[Dec:2023]

[calibri-crossies]

WAIT stratch what I just asked!! What about Thomas x female or gn reader who's scared of thunder? Storms upset me,so I'd like to see this in your amazing writing

LMAO,sure,also thanks and i hope you like this.(Sorry if it's too short.)

Gonna tag my friendo @cheshire-reblog cause i know you still like Tommy content🤭

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You couldn't hide your frustration at the moment. It was a sunny day earlier, and as you had already finished your chores around the house, you thought it would be a great idea to take some time to have a picnic with your boyfriend after he finished his work in the basement.

You talked to Thomas about your idea and he hummed happily and eager to spend some time alone with you (something that was very much appreciated as the two of you were barely seeing each other over the last few days due to the myriad tasks and hardly ever having the mood for anything else between the two of you.)But when you were about to leave, a light rain started to fall, you thought it was a passing cloud but soon this rain turned into a very strong storm to the point that Hoyt kept yelling at Thomas all the time for him to move and help him covering the damn leaks around the house.

After finishing the new task, Thomas returned to you, apologizing with signs to see his disappointed face, even though you constantly reassured him that he was not guilty of anything and that they could leave the picnic for another day. feel that he was a little bad by the way he held her hand as if he was silently apologizing.

Sitting on the sofa in the living room, you think about calling Thomas to your room while you wait for Luda Mae to finish dinner. The situation could improve, but with the storm outside getting worse and worse, soon the thunder noises started to appear and startle you. Hoyt scoffed at how pathetic you looked while scared, but before you could retort the grumpy old man, a loud thunderclap surprises you as you cover your ears,and running as fast as you can to your room,scared.

Hoyt's mocking laugh echoed throughout the room, but he was soon silenced by a wooden spoon that was slammed into his head, courtesy of Luda Mae. Thomas angrily growled at the old man, before leaving the room and heading upstairs to come over to you and check on you.

Upon reaching the bedroom, the first image Thomas sees is of you curled up with your eyes closed and on the side of the bed while covering your ears. Another loud clap of thunder erupts and you quickly huddle deeper into your blanket.

Thomas approaches slowly, and hearing you sniff, the man's heart seemed to break as he noticed that you were very scared. He climbs onto the bed and affectionately places his hand on your head, as if to say you're going to be okay.

You raise your gaze quickly to your lover, and surprise him by abruptly shifting position to hug him. Thomas pauses for a second, processing his action but then begins to comfort you by running his hands down your back and ruffling your hair.

"Sorry about the scene down there...I'm really scared of thunder..." You say apologetically to Thomas, who hums in understanding as he dives into your affection.

You sighed relieved "Hey, we're still free from any work, we can just enjoy each other's company." You say, Thomas looks at you kindly as he gently touches his forehead to yours and drops a sweet kiss on your lips. He hums in confirmation before settling into your bed and making room for you to lay your head on his chest.

Thomas cover your ears with his hands, making sure you won't hear any more noises that could scare you, and so you stay until you fall asleep...