#best christmas perfumes for women

[bestperfumesgenericperfumes]

What kind of women’s perfumes to gift for Christmas?

If you respect women’s style in perfumery and on the believe that they need a a lot of refined bit. In your women’s edition of Christmas fragrance gifts, there was a lot of stress on safer perfumes.

I’m gonna break this rule and list solely those that have stood the check of your time, luxurious smelling, and area unit accepted by the bulk.

One issue I’ll mention that I feel is vital is that simply because it’s Christmas, it doesn’t mean that the talented scent should smell like food and spice.

In fact, what do you have to gift are somethings distinctive that would we have a tendency to wear able in additional than one season.

Also, detain mind that a lot of typically than not, the value distinction doesn’t perpetually mean a far better product. Learn a lot of regarding the distinction between a designer and niche fragrances here.

[ferrstappen]

the second time we broke up l Lando Norris series

a/n: HELLO, I really like this concept and hope you enjoy it enough so I can come up with a third and final part that I have in mind <3 thank you for your messages, sorry for the delay on the requests, but I promise I'll get through them and announce the 1k celebration! <3

PART ONE HERE

pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: teeny tiny allusions to sex, wear words.

genre: angst and some fluff <3

summary: there were reasons to try again, but maybe not enough.

You mourned the relationship, your first relationship, the classic way: crying, ice cream, sad love songs, getting drunk, bashing him with your friends who trash talked him with you, more crying, trying to get back up, realizing your worth. 

Learning to live with no Lando, your dorky friend and loving boyfriend. 

On the other hand, Lando was angry. He didn’t let himself cry, feel sad, be sorry for himself, be apologetic. He was resentful. Did you feel superior to him? How could you do better than him, a Formula 1 driver? 

Maybe it was his bruised ego talking, acknowledging you actually could do better than an immature F1 driver who couldn’t give you stability, the comfort you deserved, the attention he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) reciprocate.

He simply let go, detached himself from the situation and simply forgot about it; rolled his eyes whenever friends from home brought you up at the same time he was getting acquainted with other people. Lando Norris was just realizing the world was his and had to take advantage of it; he was wanted, he was desired, and he let it go to his head while walking the streets of Monaco, letting his eyes trace the silhouette of women who dedicated him a flirty smile.

He spent more time discovering Monaco’s night life, going out with other drivers and their social circles, leaving the club with a stunning woman by his side, gaining the experiences he lacked because everything he got to know was you. 

This went on for the entire break, he rapidly left the family home after Christmas under the excuse of clearing his head, feeling comfortable in his new home, new country.

It all lasted until the season was supposed to start, but it didn’t.

In the blink of an eye, he was cloistered; no more night life, expensive champagne, exotic cocktails, waking up with a different figure every morning before gently letting them know it was time to leave. 

For the first time he was realizing the hotel room was empty; one suitcase, one phone charger. The bathroom only had the miniature hotel goodies, there wasn’t a shampoo bar, some Lush shower gel (that he always used), no hair left in the tub, YLS perfume on the counter. 

The next day he noticed Charles had a new girlfriend, Charlotte he heard, and he saw a bit of you in her; she was shy, educated, wealthy family, an outfit that could’ve resembled yours whenever you blessed the McLaren garage with your presence, and she was also carrying her laptop in order to get some reading done while supporting her boyfriend.

That was the moment Lando noticed you were missing.

He didn’t know what to do at first, what are you supposed to do to regain contact with your ex-girlfriend with whom you didn’t have the friendliest of break ups? It’d only been a couple of months, but he was aware he was different and of course you would be as well. 

He tried to subtly ask Max whenever he flew over to Monaco (pretty much every weekend). His best friend only fed him small details here and there, knowing exactly the intentions of his friend, even if he tried to act all nonchalant and recounting his experiences with girls here and there.

But there was only so much Max could take.

“Mate, what’s the thing with (y/n)? Why do you keep asking me about her?” Max asked, Lando caught unprepared for the question (or outburst) of his friend. 

“What do you mean? Of course I want to know about her, she’s still my friend,”

Max rolled his eyes. “Mate, you’ve rolled your eyes during the last month whenever someone brought her up, behaving like a child throwing a tantrum and now you’re all interested?” Max questioned his best friend, trying to use an understanding tone so Lando wouldn’t shut down. “I can’t help you unless you tell me, mate.”

Lando took a deep breath. 

How was he supposed to tell him he missed you?

No, that was too simple, too ordinary, I miss you couldn’t begin to express the turmoil of feelings wanting to burst out of his lips after being muted and ignored for so long.

He enjoyed silence, but he missed your quiet humming. 

He had fun meeting new girls, but he craved your body under, on top, against his own, like two pieces of a perfect puzzle knowing what the other needed. 

He got annoyed sometimes when you asked him to keep his voice down while streaming, but he missed the scattered papers, books, class notes on the living room table, eyes closed and hair scattered over the table.

He hated his closet, full of hoodies, not one trench coat, denim or leather jacket, thick sweater. 

He despised his kitchen, only watching his trainer approved food, no ice cream, hidden Maltesers as to not tempt him, bland orange Jaffa Cakes he’d always laugh and call you a grandma for having them. 

He missed your careless figure, only a bra and thong or boy shorts roaming from the bathroom to the bedroom over and over again, always missing a t-shirt, a skin tint, a brush, a hair pin. 

He hated himself for forgetting to call his mum, being used to you reminding him to FaceTime her.

And so he told Max everything; the void on his chest, the shivers in his arms, the empty side of the bed, the rose scented shower gel, the tingling on the palm of his hand, the exhaustion of trying to find you in other people when he knew there was no one like you, the desperation of thinking of you with someone else, the fear of not living the future he made up in his head.

Of course, after he let it out of his chest his best friend was staring at him as if he grew an extra head. Why didn’t you say this before? Lando answered he hadn’t realized, he wasn’t aware of his feelings, eyebrows rising when Max snorted; half mocking, half shocked at Lando’s cluelessness. 

“Mate, you have to be honest with yourself if you even want a fighting chance,” Max knew if he didn’t tell Lando, he’d never be aware or liable of his actions. “Mate, she’s fine now, but it was such a low point, her parents didn’t want me to see her at first because I’m your best mate,”

Lando threw his head back in surprise, squinting, asking Max whatever he meant, because he was well aware of his feelings and what he longed for.  

I cannot be the one to break it to you, mate. Those were Max’s words, and Lando was getting annoyed. 

“Fuck’s sake, Max. what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? She’s the one who broke up with me!” Lando exclaimed with a raised voice.

Max groaned, an annoyed, i-can’t-believe-i-have-to-be-the-one-who-tell-you-this groan. 

It’s your fucking ego, Lando. It got so fucking big don’t even know how a body as small as yours could handle that incredible vision of yourself when you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home and have some pints together, you didn’t care on calling for our birthdays, we got some fucking McLaren merch you told someone to send us, nothing. Max felt as if he was slowly emptying his chest. 

Lando was shaking his head, the events he was hearing weren’t veridic, Max created a scenario that never happened. 

Max continued, ignoring Lando’s denial.

And we are your friends, (y/n) was your girlfriend. Mate, you forgot about her and she didn’t even have to tell any of us because she was making excuses for you. Of course you were busy, mate, but so was her and you couldn’t care less. Bob, I’m telling you this because you are my best mate, but please hold yourself accountable. Yes, she was the one who announce the break up, but it wasn’t because she wanted to.

Taken aback, trying to come up with a response, Lando realized his walls were crumbling, his heart was aching, his brain was making the connections, bringing back the actions he knew were wrong.

Fuck you, mate. I’m still putting on a good word and try to come up with something, but fuck you, Bob.

Nothing a hug, a pint and Call of Duty couldn’t repair. 

Three weeks went by where Max prepared the field for his friend, making sure every friend was on board, slowly settling ideas on their friends.

We all have free next weekend?

It’s been long since we’ve all hung out together.

We’ve all been studying and working so hard, we deserve to have a little break. 

Do any of you have any ideas?

Lando told me we are all welcome at McLaren for Barcelona, two more weeks. 

That’s when Max’s efforts and intentions were clearer. Lando wanted to make amends or bring back the group? Did he need something? Probably not, it still didn’t make sense. 

Your friends agreed with very little hesitancy, probably assuming if Max was proposing the idea chances were you were in the loop of sharing a space with Lando, especially after the circumstances. 

After everyone left you asked Max why would he put you in that position, knowing being back on the paddock would be full of awkward interactions for you, asking whether or not you were back with Lando, your name being thrown around on social media, strangers paying just a little more attention at you in classes, righ after you’d gotten over it. 

But were you truly over it? The situation, yes. The wave died, only focusing on your well-being, learning to be without him. 

Now, were you over him? Of course not. You missed his teary laugh, his messy curls in the morning, the glint in his eyes when he saw you get off the plane with your bag, the flutter on your stomach whenever he smiled at you, unafraid of letting you know how much he loved you. 

It was two weeks, but felt just like a couple of minutes, boarding a crowded British Airways flight to Barcelona, using the excuse of having too much to study in order to not pay much attention to what was going on, Apple Music choosing the worst song choices for your state of mind.

But God, you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more

I’d say you broke my heart, but you broke much more than that

Now, I don’t want your sympathy I just want myself back

This was a terrible idea, your thoughts of getting up and announcing you didn’t feel so good so the plane couldn’t leave the ground. You weren’t ready to face Lando and all the feelings it’d bring back. 

And don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

Ugh, and fuck this song as well. That’s the last thought on your mind before angrily opening a Maltesers family sized bag, preparing your nostrils to feel his perfume again, your hand to touch the soft fabric of his hoodies, your check for the courteous and familiar peck on the cheek. 

The hotel was the same, papaya t-shirts walking all directions before going to the track, with some people not knowing you, others trying to hide their surprise before saying their heys. 

And the rest was a blur, completely. 

He saw you, you saw him. 

Lando put on his best façade, a relaxed expression on his face, usual smile, normal stance. Neither you nor Lando lingered on the first hug, make eye contact after the greeting cheek contact, announcing you’d all go out on Sunday, Carlos would bring some friends and whatever. 

Max expressed his frustration to Lando, noticing he didn’t do anything to even get close to you, with the driver telling his best friend he was paralyzed, his mind betraying him and not letting him think straight; your perfume too familiar, too starved of your touch, too drunk on your voice. But he tried his best, supported by his friends, Carlos patting his back before directing him towards you, using the excuse of you catching up with Isa.

Isa ad her boyfriend quickly fell into a quiet conversation, trying their best to give Lando and you the space required while both of you updated each other on whatever happened since you last saw each other. 

And you were weak. 

Weak for the veins showing on his arms, the grip of his hands on the bottle, the light stubble on his chin, Lando throwing a joke on the only reason behind the light hairs even seeing the light of day was because you weren’t with him because, being honest, you would’ve told him to get rid of it. 

Maybe you wouldn’t fix things, but maybe you could get something from this trip. At least waking up next to him, stepping inside your bubble one more time. 

Crazy stuff how body and soul connect, completely silencing your reasonable head screaming to get away from him, trying to remind you of the tears, the disappointment, the crushed self-esteem, the sleepless nights seeing him with girls who didn’t always look like you. Body on the other hand… was ready to throw it all overboard just to touch his lips again, caress the soft skin, draw the freckles and moles decorating the beautiful canvas called Lando.

That’s why you agreed to leave with him, but little did you know Lando’s thoughts never mimicked yours. He just wanted to walk you to your assigned hotel room, asking if you could talk; maybe now, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a couple of weeks, but he needed to inform you he’d be waiting for the conversation, the uncomfortable heart-to-heart. 

And it happened.

He recounted the facts from his point of view: overwhelming welcome to the historic team, his name thrown around all over, everybody trying to get a bit of him, and in the attempt to please everyone, he neglected you and your history, disrespected the shared love and admiration, destroyed the strong pillars of your entire relationship. 

You chronicled every phase of your process: the denial, anger, adoration, sadness disappointed. How the situation decimated the vision you had of yourself, trying to understand why your heart ached for him still. 

He wasn’t afraid this time to let a few tears run down his beautiful eyes, quick to erase them and hide the quiver on his voice, to tell you he was willing to fight because after not having you, at the short age of twenty, he was sure you were his person, his meant to be. 

You let him kiss you softly; not rushing, not letting your hands wonder over known but forbidden places. With the only purpose of trying to keep up, inform each other of the feelings, the love, adoration and need.

It was like the break up never happened, you were flying and walking next to him during the next GP, kissing his helmet for good luck. You’d never deny the awkward moments when he crossed paths with a regular paddock girl with whom he shared a short time with, but you were able to understand.

The love only grew. 

This time, more mature and secure, no longer with books scattered and messy buns after days and nights of studying, you packed everything and moved to Monaco with him, taking his words to heart: you were his person, his meant to be. 

Then years passed, and what you thought was a more mature relationship, more secure, crumbled down with one simple DM telling you a model was exchanging messages with Lando and were partying together a couple of weeks ago, a little too close.

You never questioned his late nights, inconvenient meetings, new projects. Never once doubted him and his love for you. 

Now you are twenty three.

This break up was different. You were adults; more mature, with more to lose. 

This time he was crying and you were angry; angry as you stared at the kitchen you had carefully chosen the right cutlery, the right shade of beige, the perfect vase. You had jumped, even when he gave you no reason at all to do it, your love for him was that great, sacrificing everything you could think of.

For it to end up like this. 

He was crying. Not that fake crying with soft whimpers and sniffling. No, he was crying. 

Lando was aware of the weight of his mistake, his brain knew the outcome, but his heart was trying to hold on for dear life, working to get a reaction out of you, doing everything in his power to show the desperation trying to crawl off his skin.

How could you? How can you be so selfish, when did you become this sorry excuse of a man who couldn’t tell me to my face you were seeing someone else, you chose to humiliate me. How can you care so little about me that you keep breaking me? What did I do to you to put me in this position? The painful thoughts and reality shaking you and letting  

I am not seeing someone else! Baby, you flinched, yes we were exchanging messages and whatever but it meant nothing. You know a lot of influencers and fucking whatever message me all the time. 

Yes, Lando, and you answer to each one of them. That’s what you told him while rolling your tearful eyes.

I know it was right there, borderline, I didn’t do anything, we just exchanged some messages, she was flirty and yes, I kind of followed along but she always knew I am in a committed relationship.

“Are you trying to make things worse?” That was your honest question, catching his desperation but devastated by the situation. 

She found me. I was hanging with Max and Kelly and she found me, I don’t know how. I held her waist for like ten seconds and then she tried to kiss me and I backed away. Kelly even told her to go away, she even spoke in Portuguese, she can tell you that! 

Stil you some how are not aware of your actions, Lando. Please tell me how you still are the same boy I fell in love you years ago, but not in a good way! you’re immature. Again, once again I’m here, in this fucking position, how am I supposed to get over this? I do not have the strength to get back up from this because you’ve somehow taken everything. 

That was the catharsis, the implosion of your insides, breaking everything it came in contact with. 

At least, this time you were not staying with things to tell him. This time you were letting him carry the burden of fucking things up.

“I gave up England, I gave up festivities with my family because you were tired, created this whole new life because it was convenient for you, your career, your everything and the last, the only thing I asked from you was respect, because it’s not enough for you to love me, you have to respect me and you keep showing me you don’t and it’s heartbreaking because I don’t know how, after all these years…”

The silence was unbearable, your pain was deafening. Lando’s helplessness palpable. 

“I don’t know what to do for you to see everything I do, everything I sacrifice. For you to realize that I’m great, that I am not just a pretty girl for you to show around sometimes. I’m intelligent, I know that I am good,” Now you were choking, the sobs were excruciating even if your words didn’t make sense for Lando, but the feelings were strong your head was spinning.

“Why can’t you see that? Why do you put me in this position, humiliated once again when you are supposed to love me, respect me, cherish me…”

More silence. More desperation. More tearing. 

“Or maybe I don’t deserve that?” You quietly asked him. Because maybe you were the problem, the factor why things failed. Maybe you really were not enough, the image of yourself not real, your love not that important, your presence not very needed.

Lando shook his head and said no, of course not, to please don’t say that. 

“Maybe I have this image of myself and it’s not the truth, because I feel worthless, Lando. All I’ve ever wanted is to be enough for you, to be the person you come home to, and I don’t know why I failed again.”

He cried and denied everything, completely taking the blame, assuming the consequences but trying the last desperate resorts. 

One month later, he was with the girl on a yacht.

Two months later, you saw them entering Lando’s parents house, iron gates opening and letting you catch a glimpse from across the street of your parents’ home.

That was the last time you saw Lando Norris.

At least for now. 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Nine.

A warm, heartfelt thank you to my readers for your continued engagement :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,140

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“And so, I says to this fella, I says, right, listen here, mate! Any more out of you and you’ll be shitting your bloody teeth for a week, and you’ll never believe what he says to me, John. I tell ya now, you’ll never believe it, son. He stands there, right, fag dangling from his mouth, and he says to me...” 

John didn’t give a damn what the fellow in question had said as they stood guarding the front gates of Bryn’s home, gladly watching the sun beginning to sink in the sky. From the first moment, he’d asked Tommy never to pair him with Mickey Two Suits, begged him, in fact, and what had his brother done?  

…"so, there we are, right, having a scrap about it and then suddenly, this fucking umbrella comes flying out of nowhere! And it’s only the fella’s old dear, ain’t it, giving him a clobbering and dragging him home by his ear! I says to our Wilf, I says ‘eh, look at that! Thinks he’s hard enough to have a go at a Blinder and it’s his mom who has to run in and save his arse!’ What a night, John. Ya should have been there!” 

“Mickey...” 

“...and we went had a good ole’ knees up after, we did. Drank the Red Lion right out of whiskey that night, and you ain’t heard the best part yet, pal!” 

“Mickey, will...” 

“So, the landlord has this great, big Irish Wolfhound, right, and this group of lads are...” 

“Two Suits! Holy fucking shit, will you shut up!” John’s exasperated tones matched his wide eyes, shaking his head. “Christ you don’t half yammer on, mate!” 

Mickey pinked at the cheeks a little to have been – although lightly – admonished by one of his bosses, muttering his apologies and lighting a cigarette. He lasted all of twenty seconds. 

“So, we off for a few Christmas Eve drinks up the pub once your lady wakes up? Christmas Eve at The Garrison, ain’t nothing like it, is there? Do you remember that one year when... bloody hell!” 

This time, though, Mickey’s no doubt lengthy spiel was interrupted by a sight that made John’s heart flutter, Bryn suddenly appearing before them. “No, Mickey. John and I are to depart for Warwickshire, to a party hosted by Tommy and the lovely Grace.”  

John had wondered how well Grace would take to Bryn, but after introducing them for the first time just three days before, he’d found the women had a very natural chemistry with one another. He was also pleased – for Tommy more than himself – that it had encouraged Polly to warm towards his soon-to-be sister-in-law a little more as well, since he and Grace were to be married in the New Year.  

His aunt was not quick to warm to any women who came into the lives of her beloved nephews, especially not if she had good reason not to trust them, just as she’d had with both Grace and Bryn. For the latter, though, it had melted as soon as she’d seen something of herself within his ancient vampire lover, a woman who’d had her children torn from her, a woman whose pain she understood all too well.  

Leaving Mickey to trudge down to the bus stop and travel back to Small Heath, John and Bryn went inside, the former pouring himself a whiskey while Bryn readied herself for the evening. She was affixing tiny little pearl adorned pins into her hair when he ventured into the bedroom, kissing her bare shoulder as she sat at her vanity.  

“I thought you lot weren’t meant have a reflection.” 

Him and that flipping novel he’d taken it upon himself to read. She rolled her eyes, turning to press her lips to his cheek. “Not everything Bram Stoker claims about us is true, you know.” Picking up her perfume, she spritzed herself liberally, the scent misting over her pale skin. “Although I must confess, being able to turn myself into a bat would be useful. If for nothing else than to retreat from awkward social situations.” 

“Yeah,” he hummed, swirling the amber contents of his glass, “don’t think I’d fancy you half as much as a flying rodent. Maybe a bit still, like, but not as much as usual.”  

Her look of incredulity had him tipping his head back, his laughter filling the room. “You are disgusting, John Shelby!” 

“Still laughing though, ain’t ya!” Indeed, she was. His uncouthness, lack of filter and penchant for being completely inappropriate never ceased to entertain her. Truly, she had never met anybody like her darling John. She shook her head, picking up her kohl pencil and beginning to smoke her eyes sultry black. A little mascara and a twist of rouge to her cheeks and she was finished, speedily packing the rest of what she needed for their stay at Arrow House and whizzing down to the car to place her cases in, John going to ready Katie.  

The child had been spending more time with him at Bryn’s since school had finished for Christmas, being cared for during the day by Bettie until Bryn awoke and spent time with her before bed. It had warmed his heart hugely to witness their bond forming, Katie furnishing the Christmas tree with her help, overhearing the bedtime stories his love would recite to her, the old Norse sagas his daughter loved to hear. Katie’s bedtime upon their arrival at Tommy’s house was no different. 

“The crow went flying toward the North, croaking as she flew, “Let Hela keep what she holds. Let Hela keep what she holds.” That crow was the hag Thaukt transformed, and the hag Thaukt was Loki. 

“He flew to the north and came into the wastes of Jötunheim. As a crow he lived there, hiding himself from the wrath of the Gods. He told the giants that the time had come for them to build the ship Naglfar, the ship that was to be built out of the nails of dead men, and that was to sail to Asgard on the day of Ragnarök with the giant Hrymer steering it...” 

Standing in silent watch through the crack in the door, John smiled widely as Bryn recited a fairytale about Loki, Norse god of mischief to his spellbound daughter, the covers pulled up to her chin, Bryn’s hands gesturing as she spoke of the tale. At her core, she was such a natural mother, something within her so strongly maternal. The thought had never crossed his mind back when he’d first begun his courtship with her, but truly, she was everything Katie needed. 

She was everything he needed, too.  

“Now that’s a look of love if ever I saw one.” 

At hearing Polly’s whisper, he turned, grin still fixed firmly in place as his cheeks coloured a little bit at being caught staring so adoringly at the scene. “She’s only known her just under three weeks and she dotes on that little girl as if she were her own.” Walking away from the bedroom, he pulled a cigarette out, lighting up. “Ain’t what you thought she was, is she?”  

Polly lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “I don’t like to concede, but you’re right. She isn’t. Brynhild has surprised me with her nature. I never forget what she is, but I’m getting to know that what she is isn’t all she is.” Reaching for his face, she stroked his cheek, laying a pecked kiss upon the other. “I’m pleased for you, love. You look very happy.”  

He smiled again, his handsome features lighting up the dim glow coming from the bedroom. “I am, Pol. Might not have been long, but I am.”  

“Come on.” Opening her arm, she draped it around his shoulders, steering him down the corridor in the direction of the stairs. “Let’s go get drunk and eat too much food, have a good ole’ knees up.”  

Walking down into the throng of people milling around the welcome hall, the mix of guests were mostly business, both legitimate and not so, family and friends, servers carrying trays of drinks and food, the laughter and chatter filling the spruce-scented air. John was just reaching for a whiskey when he felt a cool hand slip into his, Bryn arriving with him, taking a champagne flute from a passing member of the wait staff.  

“How does it feel?” 

“How does what feel, my darling?” she asked, pressing herself close to him as he released her hand, wrapping an arm around her instead. 

“To be the most beautiful woman in the room?”  

She sipped her champagne, eyeing him with a twinkle there in the hypnotic blue of her irises. “Oh, you presume yourself to be so very charming!” 

His smirk widened. “Are you charmed?” 

“I am,” she hummed. 

“Then I’m fucking charming.” He kissed her head, his arm tightening around her. “Tell me about what underwear you’ve got on under that dress.” 

“You know my thoughts towards underwear, my love,” she purred, kissing his cheek as they moved through the guests. “I don’t like anything that gets in the way of your mouth.”  

A bolt shot through him, John closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he pulled himself back from the haze of lust to be greeted by an oncoming business associate, fellow bookmaker Kenneth Thompson.  

“John! Good evening to you and your fine lady, here! How are you keeping?”  

While he and her love got into conversation about the next race meets of the New Year, Bryn found herself beckoned over by Grace and Polly, gliding over through the throng of guests. It was as a young server passed her by that she caught the faintest whiff of it, a smell her nose never failed to detect. Her eyes snapped to the back of the redheaded girl’s neatly pinned tresses, watching her move from guest to guest.  

“You’re on alert,” Polly noted when she arrived with them, seeing how Bryn suddenly appeared much less casual in demeanour. “What is it?” Although not knowing her for long, she’d familiarised herself with how the vampire carried herself, the minute changes within her normally quite stoic disposition. Polly Gray well understood when it paid to be observant.  

“That girl,” Bryn began, pointing with her champagne flute. “Grace, how new is she within your employment? Also, is she local?” 

“Very new,” she confirmed, her eyes following the cold, hard stare of her vampire friend’s eyes. “Everybody is, though. With us only officially moving in recently, the staff were hired just over a week ago. As for where she’s from, Tyneside according to her references. Why do you ask?”  

“Thought I recognised her locally. I must be mistaken.” she lied, giving Polly a look that she read instantly. Tommy hadn’t filled in Grace over everything regarding Bryn, other than to obviously keep what she was well under her hat. Initially, she hadn’t believed him at all, laughing away under the impression that he was having her on upon their first meet. When Bryn had proved it by popping her fangs, she’d almost fallen out of her chair. 

With Grace called away to continue playing gracious hostess, Polly moved Bryn into the corner of the room away from earshot of the other partygoers. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“That girl,” she began, her eyes flitting away to follow her before they snapped back to Polly. “She does not bathe often, for not only do I detect a fine scent of body odour, but I also smell Rasmussen on her. It is faint, but present.”  

“You’re fucking joking me,” she hissed, eyes scanning the room. “I’ll get John and Tommy, let’s get this sorted.” 

Immediately, Bryn gripped her arm. “No, no, Polly. We need not involve the men just yet. Let me watch her. Act as you normally would, begin to laugh at everything I’m saying.” 

Polly’s faux, yet believable chuckle filled the air, Bryn affixing a huge smile to her face before launching into a real story, all the while watching the girl as she flitted from guest to guest. For all intents and purposes, they were having a wonderful Christmas Eve, with no suspicions over any infiltration to their circle.  

Every so often, the serving girl’s eyes would find Bryn, studying her in confirmation of this, the vampire feeling her entire being hum on high alert. As soon as she exited the welcome hall, Bryn moved to follow her, ducking speedily into the shadows as she stalked her, the girl looking as if she was heading back down to the kitchen.  

There was a pantry just to the side of the grand kitchen, a designated space where the butler would keep track of the household provisions at a small desk and put in the orders at the grocery, baker and butcher on a twice-weekly basis, Bryn remaining concealed from sight as the girl quietly made her way inside. She was just about to enter after her when John and Polly appeared.  

“Oi, don’t you look at me like that, Brynhild,” Polly whispered sternly, noting the displeasure she was viewed with. “Wasn’t me who said anything.”  

“She’s right, love” John spoke, touching a hand to her shoulder. “It was me who felt it.” 

Of course, he would. John Shelby had so much of her blood travelling through his veins at that point, he might as well have called himself Brynhild Mark Two. Holding a finger to her lips, Bryn listened, hearing the serving girl make her request to the telephone exchange. Rasmussen.  

Bingo.  

“Mr Rasmussen, I hope I am not disturbing you.”  

Before John or Polly knew it, Bryn was gone from before them, the butler’s pantry door flung open, both striding in to find the telephone cable pulled from the socket and a snarling Bryn pressing the girl down onto the desk by her throat.  

“How much did he pay you to infiltrate?” she growled, her fangs bared, the girl shaking in fright as she found herself at the very wrong end of a powerful vampire’s temper.  

“I-I d-d-don't know w-what you...” 

“Oh, bloody spare us!” Polly exclaimed, closing the door behind them. “You can’t fool a nose like hers. She smelled them on you.”  

“B-but I-I...” 

Bryn’s gripped tightened. “I said, how much, child?”  

“T-ten p-pounds.” 

A lot of money for a girl who she estimated likely earned less than a third of that a week. “I will pay you treble that to call him back right now and tell him that I am not among the Shelby family. For I know that is why you are here. As my friend just stated, I can smell them on you.” She shook her head, her nose crinkling. “Poor, unfortunate girl. Perhaps if you bathed more often, you might have been successful.”  

Nodding through her shakes, she felt on the verge of wetting her knickers in fear, watching the vampire as she looked to her companions. “Darling, plug the telephone back in.”  

John nodded, eyeing the girl with distaste, Bryn going into her small clutch bag and pulling out three ten-pound notes. “Here. I will pay you this to deliver the message. That is all you have to do. Do you understand?”  

“I-I do.” 

Bryn beamed, but her smile carried not a trace of warmth to it. “Good.”  

With the phone reconnected, the girl tucked her money into her neat little apron, taking the receiver and once again requesting the correct name to the exchange.  

“Helen, we were cut off before. Now, what do you have for us, pet?” Edward asked upon answering, the girl not able to drag her eyes away from Bryn, shaking with fright at the faint sound of her rumbling warning growl.  

“I’m afraid I have nothing.” She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “The woman you described is not within the guests. Just about everybody else notable is, but not any women with dark hair and a tattooed throat and chest, I’m afraid, sir.”  

“Stick around, she mightn't have arrived yet. Like we said, it might be another. Sounds daft, love, but look out for people who are paler than usual, and who don’t eat or drink with quite the same gusto as others do, like.” 

“Shall do, sir. I will report back tomorrow evening.” With that, the call ended, Helen finding herself on the receiving end of three very angry looking people. Well, only two were people. “What do I tell him tomorrow?” 

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything to do with vampires being around the family, tell him whatever the fuck you like,” John spoke, moving to impose himself before her, reaching into his pocket to pull out his knife. “And if you do fucking breathe a word about her to anyone, we will find out, and bab, you don’t want to know what I’ll fucking do to ya. We clear?” 

With a cold blade pressed against her cheek and the even colder glare of a vampire upon her, Helen nodded. “I shan’t say anything. I’ll just tell him there wasn’t any here. I promise, just please don’t hurt me.”  

Returning the knife to his pocket, he patted her cheek with his hand. “Good girl. Now, go up and pack your bags. Now.” 

“No.” Halting her with a splayed hand to her chest, Bryn stood in her path, shaking her head as she looked to John. “We must ensure she makes that call, John. If she doesn’t, then they will deduce that I am here and have dealt with her.” 

She was right. “What do you plan on doing to her?” 

Bryn pondered his statement for all of five seconds. “Fetch me some rope. We tie her to a chair in here and tell no one to enter. Then we come down here again at sundown tomorrow, let her make her call and escort her from the premises.” 

“And what the fuck are we meant to tell the serving staff, why they can’t come in here all of a sudden?” he asked, perplexed.  

Shaking her head in bafflement, a frown of light incredulity creased her forehead. “Darling, you run both legitimate and cooked books for a living; you’re better at mathematics than most of the fucking Arabs who created it. You’re also a goddamned Shelby, lying is in your nature. Do not tell me such mental calculus is beyond you.” Her eyebrows continued to rise, gesticulating wildly with her free hand. “Bloody make something up!”  

Polly couldn’t keep the smile from her face at how Bryn had both managed to praise and admonish him at the exact same time, especially watching John not know whether to be annoyed or enamoured by the crisply delivered statement from his lady. 

“I ain’t sure if I want to fuck you or slap you right now.”  

“I’ll let you do both later,” she winked, nodding towards the door. “Rope. Now.” As soon as he left the pantry, Polly was in soft fits.  

“Oh, my giddy aunt!” she snorted, lighting herself a cigarette while Bryn pushed a still terrified, but complacent Helen down into the wooden chair behind the desk. “Seeing you run circles around my bloody nephew like that is the only Christmas present I’ll need this year.”  

Bryn smirked, taking Helen’s hand and popping her fangs, forcing the young woman’s finger to her mouth and piercing the tip upon the point of one of those long, sharp teeth. Helen winced, Bryn licking the drop of blood that swelled forth. “There is my insurance, should stupidity and luck be on your side and mean you somehow escape. I will be able to find my way to you instantly.” 

With the way John bound her legs and arms to the chair upon his return, though, Bryn sorely doubted that Helen would be going anywhere, but took the phone with them just in case. “Please tell me that one day you shall delight my senses by tying me to the bed like that.”  

He paused upon the staircase, raising an eyebrow. “You could get out of it in about half a second, though.” 

“I could,” she purred, leaning close to flick her tongue against his earlobe, giving it a little nibble. “I wouldn’t attempt to, though.” 

“You,” he began, waving a finger at her, “you need to pack it in, you do. We’ve got to go fill Tommy in over all of this and you’ve bloody gone and gotten me at half-mast as it fucking is.” He nodded downwards, Bryn seeing the outline of his cock beginning to tent his trousers, chuckling as she grinned.  

“Well, my, my.” Leaning close, she kissed him, her lips all fiery honey upon his. “It looks like something is looking up this evening after all.”  

Carrying on up the stairs, she left him standing there waiting to deflate again, shaking his head as he muttered. “Bloody insufferable temptress.”  

“I heard that.” 

“You were fucking meant to, bab!” he shouted, making the server passing him jump, John placing a reassuring hand to his shoulder as he grinned widely, the man continuing his trajectory. “God, I love that woman.” 

As she stepped back into the throng of the party, Bryn heard that, too. She would never tire of it either, slipping her hand into his when he joined her after a few moments, fully calmed in the trouser department as they walked over to where Polly waited for them, opening the door to Tommy’s office.  

“Grace specifically told me no business tonight, so whatever this is, make it quick,” he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk, looking up to see Arthur enter the room, neatly closing the door behind him and shutting out the noise from the party.  

“Do not worry, Tommy. I have every intention of being perfectly concise so we may resume this wonderful evening you and Grace have put together for us,” Bryn began, Tommy nodding in acknowledgement of her praise, his eyes fixing upon her. “A spy sent by Edward Rasmussen infiltrated your serving staff. It was only because the dirty girl does not bathe quite as often as one should that I managed to smell their scent upon her, knew she had been close to them. 

“She was sent here to look for me specifically. I apprehended her with John and Polly prior to her delivering news to Edward himself, intercepted the phone call she was shortly to make, forcing her to tell him all was clear. He expects her to call in again tomorrow to confirm that no vampire fitting my image, or any other for that matter arrived here at Arrow House.” 

Arthur leaned around Polly, nodding to her. “You alright though, love? She ain’t burned you with no silver or nothing, has she?” 

Bryn was touched by his concern. “I am fine, dear Arthur. Trust and believe if she had of attempted to wound me, your brother would have likely acted swiftly.” 

“Wouldn’t fucking half have,” John muttered, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting up.  

Tommy digested her words, drawing idly upon his cigarette. “Which serving girl was it?” 

“Helen.” 

“And where is Helen now?” 

“Tied up in the butler’s pantry.” 

He rose to his feet. “Good enough, Brynhild.” Walking around the desk, he placed a hand to John’s shoulder as he passed. “Fits into our world just nicely does your lady, John boy. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” Opening his door, he gestured through the space, the noise of the merriment filling the air as his family filed back out. Bryn was the last to leave, Tommy halting her with a soft hand to her forearm.  

“I’ll leave it to your discretion, whether Helen actually leaves the grounds or not tomorrow,” he whispered, his stare so strong Bryn felt it boring into the back of her skull. “Either way, though, she is to be gone and kept quiet.” 

Bryn would not have survived for as long as she had, should she not have known well how to read between the lines. Smiling, she leaned to kiss Tommy’s cheek, gliding from the room to take another glass of champagne and slide in at her love’s side once more, the head of the family watching her as he closed the heavy office door behind him.  

In offering his protection to Bryn, he saw well how the alliance benefitted him from her being close to them. Literally being able to smell the faint trace of an enemy upon a person was a skill he wished he possessed, but did not need to now that he had the most powerful vampire in England close with his family.  

Tommy Shelby knew a valuable asset when he saw one. The fact that she made his younger brother the happiest looking man in the room didn’t hurt either.  

[twostepstyless]

‘And Guest’

Fic Advent Calendar Day 5

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Harry and Y/N have to go to a Christmas dinner party with all the rich posh people from the business side of Harry's career. That's if he ever gets ready. Tiny portion sizes should be banned on good food.

Word Count: 2.3k

SFW

———

Who organises a Christmas party for a Monday night? Rich, businesspeople who have nowhere to be the next morning, that’s who. The kind of party where the invites are given out to the managers and publicists and decide for you if you were going to attend. Y/N knew what she was getting into being Harry’s other half. That was always how she was going to be seen to that side of Harry’s life. She was always going to be Harry’s other half, Harry’s missus, Harry Styles ‘and guest,’ and not Y/N, but she was fine with it. The people that mattered knew her as her own person plus she always got some form of amusement from these events. The other wives and girlfriends would swoop in on Y/N looking for a tiny crumb of gossip about her life with Harry. She had learned to keep her cards close to her chest with the women who acted like vultures. She had told them at one of the earliest parties she attended with them, that her and Harry had a very happy and active sex life, which turned into a story in the press about Y/N being a nymphomaniac and that’s why Harry was with her. So, she’s sure at the very least, she’ll get a bit of free entertainment from the evening. If they ever make it out the door that is. 

*** 

“Harry, would you move your arse, please,” she pleaded, they had to be out the front door in exactly an hour’s time and Harry had taken it upon himself to clean out his junk drawers in their bedroom, something they had been talking about getting round to for weeks. “I love you and thank you for starting to do that, but can it maybe drop to the bottom on the list of priorities for right now, and maybe getting changed and ready for this bloody party move up to the top, yeah?” Y/N flew past him in a flurry of her silk dressing gown, hair already styled to perfection while trying to ram an earring into her lobe. Leaving a waft of her rich perfume in her wake.

“It doesn’t take me that long t’get ready, m’love,” Harry made no move to change his activities. 

“See y’say that but me n’you have been together long enough now, so I know you need an hour, minimum. Guess what? You’ve got an hour, starting now,” she thrust her bracelet into his hands and held her left wrist out, wordlessly asking him to fasten it on for her. 

“You’re keen tonight, thought y’hated these posh do’s,” his fingers moved deftly, unfastening the minuscule clasp, and gripping her wrist softly, letting the cool metal snake around before snapping the closure into place. 

“I do, I can’t be arsed with it most of the time, but Lambert sent a nice dress t’match with you and I’m half ready now, so we’re going,” she retorted, a slight edge to her voice as she went to brush her teeth in their adjoining bathroom before she applied any lip products. 

“Y’seem a little..”

“Don’t even fucking dare say it,” she warned him, poking her head out the bathroom door as Harry smirked, he was getting some sick enjoyment out of pushing her buttons this evening. 

“Crabby,” he finalised his thought, as they stared each other down. Y/N was quick in her movements, sliding her slipper off before reaching down to grab it and threw it across the room at Harry who stood laughing, hands up to protect his face as the sole of the slipper bounced off his shoulder. 

“Harry, I am wearing the tightest shapewear known to man, do not test me, Styles,” she shot back, a smile of amusement trying it’s best to tug at the corner of her lips. She knew he was winding her up for his own entertainment, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So, she decided to play her own game and rile him up, just in a different way.

As he kept his gaze on her, she walked from their bathroom until she stood in front of him and tugged the cord of her silk gown until it fell open and she stood in her shapewear in front of him, “I’ll let you peel my shapewear off me later if you get a move on.” Granted, the words peeling, and shapewear being used in the same sentence wasn’t exactly the sexiest line in the world, but Harry was always gone for her. He’d get turned on if she revealed she was wearing a trash bag under her dressing gown, and he was allowed to tear it off. The shapewear had her lifted and cinched in a way that would allow her dress to accentuate her curves and Harry’s knees about hit the floor as he drank in the vision of his girlfriend. “Ugh just imagine, all the lines it’s left on me from squeezing every bit of flesh into a fabric vice for the next 4 hours,” she moaned jokingly as Harry giggled at her. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, talk dirty to me more,” he snickered pushing the remainder of her robe from her shoulders before turning his back to unzip the garment bag, that contained her dress, that was hanging on the back of their bedroom door. He helped her dress, zipping her in and smoothing out the fabric that cascaded down her body. Finally, after she was ready, Harry decided he better actually get changed before their fun game of teasing ended up in her actually being annoyed with him.

*** 

Shocker, they were running late. Harry had decided he wanted to take a quick shower and that put them back another 10 minutes. Vinnie, their dog, was seeing them off from the front door, they had set him up with some snacks and Smooth Radio playing the oldies for him to relax him as he got left alone for a few hours. 

“Now Vinnie, behave, and don’t open the door for anyone or touch the oven, okay?” Harry asked the golden retriever as Vinnie just wagged his tail in response, before Harry leant down to press a quick kiss to his head, hearing Y/N shout from the open door of the car service parked in their driveway. 

“Get in the car, Harry, he’s not got thumbs he can’t open the door.” 

***

“Mr Styles,” the gentleman on the door said as Harry approached, Y/N’s arm hooked round his. Doormen for a party taking place in a house, pretentious people things, Y/N rolled her eyes. The man looked down at his tablet and checked off Harry’s name before looking back up, first at Harry then at Y/N, “and guest,” he smiled at her as if it was a compliment as she unwrapped her arm from Harry’s and his now free arm closest to her wound around her waist and settled on her hip. 

“Hi, yeah, Guest Y/S/N, pleasure to meet you,” she stuck her hand out and grinned at the doorman, in an overly friendly manner, acting as if Guest was her first name as that seemed to be what she was known as in this world. Harry pinched her hip as he tried to cover his laugh with a cough. The man shook her hand, confused, before stepping away and allowing them inside. The house where the party was, was overly staged for Christmas. Professionally decorated, obviously, there was no charm of it being decorated by a family, not a single tacky decoration or chocolate coin in sight. Even the Christmas music was overly sophisticated, jazzy, instrumental versions of all their favourites. There was no Paul McCartney belting out about a Wonderful Christmastime, instead the music seemed to make even Jingle Bells sound depressing.

Harry crowded over her as he removed her coat to give to the coat check people just inside the front door, coat check at a bloody house party! What next? He dropped his lips to the shell of her ear and murmured lowly, “behave,” as Y/N rolled her eyes playfully before he bent to kiss her lips gently, almost in a goodbye as the first of the rich bitch wives swooped in to take her away to try and get her to spill on what Harry was like in bed. 

*** 

A few hours had passed, and the dinner where Harry and Y/N were reunited next to each other at the dining table. Don’t get them wrong, the food was insanely delicious but what is it with these posh parties having portions perfectly sized to satiate a weaning baby and no one bigger than that. 

The group were sat around the main reception area now where there was idle chatter now, talking numbers, and all the big wigs in the room wanting to know the digits behind a tour like Harry’s and if they wanted to know that they invited the wrong people to this soiree. Harry didn’t know a thing about the financials of his tour, he showed up, played the show, had a great time then slept it off ready for the next one. Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off him, she loved watching him talk to other people, he always looked so invested, giving direct eye contact, enough to make anyone nervous when speaking to him. He knew when to react with nods of the head and subtle changes in his facial expression. She was snapped from daydreaming about her boyfriend when she heard a low grumble emit from his stomach, his hand automatically reaching to hold his tummy as if that would disguise it. This is why baby food sized portions are never a good idea. Y/N, however, was prepared, she’d been to enough of the posh people parties to know what to expect now. 

While the conversation buzzed around them, she leant across to whisper in his ear, “meet me in the bathroom in a couple of minutes, ‘kay?” she shot him a wink before standing to her feet, grabbing her bag, and wandering to the washroom. 

A few moments passed before Y/N heard a light knocking on the door, opening it a crack to reveal Harry looked puzzled. It’s not like he was expecting to go in the bathroom to see her with her dress pulled up and her knickers on the floor, though he wouldn’t have complained if that was the vision that greeted him either. Instead, he got something much better. She pulled him into the bathroom by a grip on his shirt and shut the door softly behind him before opening her small clutch and revealing what was inside to him. Rammed into the tiny bag was a packet of crisps and two mince pies wrapped in a bit of paper towel. 

“We having a bathroom picnic?” Harry’s eyes crinkled with his soft laugh and his dimples appeared as she fished the bag of crisps out her purse and opened them up. 

“Absolutely, heard your tummy grumbling and mine was seconds away from sounding like a bear had moved into my belly,” she said before shoving a few crisps into her mouth as Harry followed suit. 

“Swear to god, these have never tasted better,” Harry moaned, swallowing down his own mouthful. 

“Hey that’s not fair, the food was delicious, jus’ the portion sizes that were…” she trailed off. 

“Shit, the portion size was shit,” he laughed as he took another handful of crisps before turning the bag on Y/N so she could help herself. 

“Yeah, think even Vinnie would turn his nose up at it,” she giggled, before crunching down on the salty snack. “Here, have the rest,” she stole one last crisp before handing Harry the bag for him to tip the remainder into his mouth, crumbs fluttering down his shirt. 

“Vinnie would turn his nose up at a normal adult portion thinking it’s not enough, the boy’s an addict to food,” Harry laughed as Y/N unwrapped the mince pies from the paper towel, handing Harry his and sinking her teeth into her own. The buttery pastry melting in her mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s so good,” Y/N wolfed the mince pie down in record time before wiping her hands down on the nearest hand towel and patting her stomach as she leant against the sink as Harry finished his own pie, before perching on the sink next to her, both feeling fuller than they did before their picnic. 

“Thanks f’that, needed it,” Harry sighed pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“D’you reckon we’ve stayed long enough so we can leave?” Y/N asked, hip-checking him lightly. 

“Most definitely, I think all the guys think m’stupid anyway because I don’t know what the gross net profit of the South America run was…or somethin’” Harry looked confused as he repeated the question he received earlier. 

“Aw, my little empty-headed baby,” Y/N nuzzled into his side, her tone teasing him. 

“Hey, you’re the one who chose to date this idiot,” Harry nudged her playfully with his elbow before tilting her chin to press a chaste kiss to her lips. 

“Mhm, and I wouldn’t change it f’the world,” she giggled, slipping up onto her tiptoes to kiss him again, before suddenly realising they were in someone else’s bathroom. “Go tell everyone your ‘guest’ isn’t feeling well, and I’ll meet y’by the door,” Y/N rest her chin on his chest before quickly kissing his chin as he stood back up to his full height. 

“Yes ma’am,” Harry saluted, getting ready to leave the bathroom, not before shoving the evidence from their picnic into his blazer pocket. 

“I’m texting the driver to bring us chips for the trip home,” Y/N said before turning on her heel to exit and go get her coat from the front door, “don’t take too long, think the stitching is cracking on the shapewear.” 

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[cthulhu-calling]

Wedding Bells II

Wanda Maximoff x female!Reader

Summary : Your best friend is getting married. You’re beyond elated. And he asked you to be his best man. But there’s a catch. The maid of honour is the woman you were with for two years. The woman you were going to get down on one knee and ask to spend the rest of your life together. The woman who cheated on you, smashing your heart into millions of tiny pieces. Can you truly make it down the aisle with her on your arm?

Warnings : fluff, angst, cheating

Author’s Note : This story has elements of cheating, maybe a graphic description further down the road. The reader is female and has no particular race or body type so feel free to imagine yourself (though I write with woc in mind).

I spent a long time staring at pictures of Kathryn Hahn's face to figure out her eye colour (not that I truly mind) so y'all better appreciate my dedication.

Word Count : 1265

series masterlist

Preparations for the wedding are in full swing, but you have surprisingly little to do. You never realised that most of the work is taken over by the bride’s side. You’re thankful for it, you suppose. You’re kept in the loop, sure, but you never actively contribute. You’re glad, you couldn’t imagine having to interact with Wanda regularly. That one voicemail was enough to drive you up the fucking wall. You never did end up replying to it. You thought about it a lot though. Even found yourself going back and listening to it but the initial anger was replaced by something else. Something you didn’t want to dwell too long on or God forbid you act on those feelings. It was best to keep your distance until it was absolutely necessary or unavoidable for you to interact with her. 

Bucky and Natasha’s engagement party was this weekend. You were as ready as you’d ever be. You’d gotten a brand new outfit, an emerald green jumpsuit with a halter neck and mostly open back. The colour looked beautiful on you and you had just the right heels to pair with it. You were going to get your hair done professionally the day before too, putting it up high so that you could really show off your outfit. You were leaving no stone unturned. There was only one problem : a date. You needed one ASAP. You could ask your friend from work, Carol, to come along. You knew how much Wanda despised her but Carol tends to get a bit handsy when she has a couple of drinks in her, as the entire office witnessed at the Christmas party last year. So, she was not an option. You need to find yourself a date, fast. Peggy had offered to introduce you to her cousin, Sharon, and you’d jumped on the idea. She was a total smokeshow, that woman. You’d met her before, at Peggy and Steve’s wedding but back then you had no idea she was into women. You were going out to meet her at your favourite bar downtown for a drink. Casual, laid back. Peggy had already told her you were looking for a date and she seemed fine with it so that was half your work already done for you. 

That evening, you meet Sharon for a drink and you must admit, she’s just as gorgeous as you remember. She stands up to greet you, pulling you close for a hug and you can smell the sweet perfume on her. The shorts she’s wearing hug her figure amazingly and her top is low cut enough to give a teasing hint of cleavage. She’s pure seduction with legs that seem to go on for miles and perfectly styled blonde waves. 

The date seemed to be going well but honestly, you found something off about her. You tried to push the feeling down, thinking it’s because you’re still kind of stuck on Wanda but no, it kept bubbling up to the surface. And for good reason too. Alarm bells started going off in your brain the moment she asked what your financial situation was like. You wanted to tell her it was none of her business, or make some dumb joke about how that was a more third date kind of line of questioning but instead you told her just what she was itching to hear. God, you wish you had a spine.

“It’s okay, I get by,” you shrug and the look of pure joy that takes over her face is blinding.

“How would you feel if I told you that I have a business opportunity for you that’s going to make you a lot of money?” she asks gleefully. 

You should’ve ended the date then and there but your lack of a goddamn spine came through and you sat and listened to her whole spiel, telling her you were interested in selling nutritional supplements as a side hustle to make extra money and that you’d get back to her soon. She left pretty satisfied after that and it was safe to say that you hate yourself.

You were getting sick of this. Another failed first date. You plop yourself down on the bar stool and the bartender, and your friend, Agatha, greets you with a quirk of her perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

“What was wrong with this one?” She asks, setting a tall glass of seven and seven in  front of you, on the house, she says. 

“Is it too much to ask to not get roped into an MLM recruitment on the first date? I mean, save that shit for the tenth date, at least,” you say as you take a rather large sip from your glass. 

“It happens to,” she trails off before sighing, “Actually, it does not happen to all of us,” she finishes with a snort.

“I’m cursed,” you groan, sipping from the straw.

“You’re not cursed, you’re just special,” she says sympathetically, patting your hand before going to the other end of the bar to attend to another customer. 

“So, who was she?” Agatha asks.

“Sharon. She’s my friend Peggy’s cousin. I didn’t even know she was into women,” you shrug.

“Hmm, maybe she was just trying to get a new member for her cult. What do they sell anyway?” 

“Nutritional supplements or like gummies or something, I wasn’t listening,” you grumbel, biting the straw. 

“Well, you need to wade through a sea of cheaters and recruiters to finally find the one. And you’re young, you have time,” she says. Agatha was older than you, by ten years at least. You were turning thirty this year and she seemed closer to forty, though you’d never ask her.

“Not really. I need a date for my friends Bucky and Nat’s wedding. My ex is gonna be there too,” you say, blowing bubbles into your drink.

“The one who cheated on you?” she asks, wiping down the counter.

“Yeah, and last I heard, she’s still with that old guy she cheated on me with,” you sigh, holding your head in your hands in despair. A warm hand encircles your wrist, making you look up. Agatha’s looking at you with a mischievous smile and you realise that you never noticed before just how pretty her eyes were. They were a pale grey and if you weren’t so close to her, one might even mistake them for blue. 

“So, you need a date for this wedding to make your ex realise what she’s missing, right?” She’s outright smirking now, a twinkle to her eyes in mirth.

“Yeah, what are you suggesting?” you frown, confusion lacing your tone.

“I think I might have an idea of exactly who can help you,” she says and you must say, you’re intrigued. You’ve never heard her speak like this, so giddy, almost evil. She was easy going and while you weren’t extremely close to her, you knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t cause you any harm, not intentionally.

“Really? And who might that be? If you’re about to suggest a shrink, I have a rather colourful array of words to offer,” you squint your eyes at her, wondering where she’s going with this.

“Darling, no one short of the good Lord up above can help you but for this situation, I know who can,” she says as she lets go of your wrist, knowing that she has your full attention. 

‘Well? Spit it out already,” you demand impatiently.

With a dramatic flourish of her hands, she says in a sultry tone “Me, darling, who else?” 

[wraenata]

Ask game! :D

Poppy and Cherry blossom?

Flower Ask Game

Poppy: Of the four seasons, which season of the year is your favorite and why?

I have a hard time picking favorites! There are parts of every season that I love.

Spring, though it's cold and rainy, is the return of birdsong and the days getting longer.

Summer, though its way too hot, seriously I'm too hot, I love all the birds and flowers and just the trees full of leaves as I drive home. Also it's nice to be outside in the warmth somedays, except for all the bugs!

Autumn is starting to get cool so I can wear all my favorite clothes all covered up. And the falling leaves are very beautiful.

Winter: I like about 2 months of winter then I'm over it lol. But the quiet peaceful snowfall is really something I enjoy. Plus I do enjoy my Christmas tree and all the decorations. If I'm lucky I'll have lots of cardinals in my yard.

If I haaaddd to pick a favorite it would be autumn (that's when my birthday is!) It has the all around best weather.

Cherry Blossom: How do you feel about perfume or cologne? Do you personally wear it or do you prefer not to?

I don't care for perfume or cologne. A lot of women at my old church drenched themselves in it all the time. Probably because they rolled around so much during worship service and alter call they'd get so sweaty. (Holy rollers, it's a real thing XD)

We got a lot of hand me downs from older girls at the church, and even after several washes I could still smell the perfume and feel the residue on the clothes. I did not like that feeling. My sister started using perfume early too and it was just awful to be around or touch her clothes. I don't mind if other people wear it, hey you do smell really nice! But I just can't stand the feeling on my fingers oof

[culturefit]

Eight ( kind of lesser-known) "Riot Grrrl" bands that you should check out:

Some "Riot Grrl" bands that you may not know of, and some that you might. All on Spotify.

Slutever; Discography: Album: Almost Famous. Singles: White Flag, 1994, Pretend to Be Nice.

Cheap Perfume; Discography: Albums: Burn It Down; Nailed It. Singles: No Men; TKO; It's Okay (To Punch Nazis).

Bratmobile; Discography: Albums: Pottymouth (Remastered); Girls Get Busy; Ladies, Women and Girls; Pottymouth. Singles: The Real Janelle EP.

Mommy Long Legs; Discography: Albums: Try Your Best; Life Rips. Singles: Rock Product; Assholes.

Dream Nails; Discography: Latest Release: Femme Boi. Albums: Dream Nails. Singles: Good Guy; Lonely Star (Christmas Song); They/Them; Take up Space; DIY; This Is the Summer; Vagina Police 2.0; Jillian; Kiss My Fist; Payback; Text Me Back (Chirpse Degree Burns); Corporate Realness; Double A Side; Dare to Care; Tourist; Diy; Deep Heat, Bully Girl.

Sorry Mom; Discography: Latest Release: babyface. Singles: Teeth; Shaving My Legs; Hiccup; Molly Sells Molly By The Seashore; Hit the Back; Juno Goes to the Big House.

Babes in Toyland; Discography: Albums: Minneapolism (Live); Nemesisters; Painkillers; Fontanelle; To Mother; Spanking Machine. Singles: We Are Family. Compilations: The Complete Albums 1990-1995.

Sunday Cruise; Discography: Albums: SCREAMING IN THE MIRROR; Am I Pretty? . Singles: I Should've Stayed Home; Bathroom Tiles; Pretty Baybee; Falling // Friday Night; Sunflower; Sunday Cruise.

[thesmolgoblingf]

I don’t think a lot of women understand that men love receiving a heartfelt gift just as much as we do.

The first time I gave my partner a gift, it was our first Christmas as a couple. Now, I typically don’t celebrate Christmas, but it’s his favorite holiday.

I couldn’t afford much, so I had been worried that he wouldn’t like his gift. I had decided to make him a rosary. I don’t know much about Catholicism and I knew he isn’t (as he likes to refer to it) a “capital C Catholic”, but it seemed like something that would be meaningful. I talked with him a lot about what the rosary was and how it was constructed. I got a rough idea of what I wanted to do, then went to the craft stores in town.

To my surprise, I found beads that were freshwater pearls, in all their misshapen glory. His birthstone is pearl, and I wanted to incorporate both of our birthstones, but I had figured that I would have to settle for plastic white beads. I found turquoise beads, too, as well as a silver crucifix that held another turquoise.

The only thing I needed to order online was a connector bead, and I happened to find one that matched my promise ring. The assembly took me most of a morning as I agonized over trying to make it perfect.

Since I had to ship it to him, I threw in a few more things: a painting, a small plush shark (his favorite animal) that I sprayed with my perfume, and a little love letter. I just wanted it to be a little care package since I couldn’t physically be with him.

I remember watching him opening it, thinking I was stupid and should’ve just got him a watch or something generic since it was only our first Christmas together.

He teared up. He said it was beautiful, and I felt relief wash over me, but there was a twinge of sadness, too. Men are told to be romantic and thoughtful, but not many of them are getting the same courtesy in return.

That rosary is still the best gift I’ve ever given.

[chessyhoward]

"Give me a twirl, Chessy!"

Her little sister's face dominated the entirety of her phone screen, so that Chess could see right up Genevieve Howard's nose. Chess suppressed a giggle, filled with an ridiculous fondness for her younger sister. Between the time zones, Chess being busy with Hazel, and Genevieve planning a wedding, the Howard sisters rarely got the time to chat. So Chess soaked up whatever time with her sister she possible could. Whether that be a quick FaceTime before bed, or walking down a busy New York street. If the other woman called, Chess always answered.

"Fine!" Chess pretended to roll her eyes, standing up and setting her phone down across the room. Propping her iPhone up against a cart filled with complimentary snacks and fancy bottled water, Chess checked her outfit in the screen, watching as Gen clapped her hands together and wolf whistled.

"It's so fancy in there. Let me see... pleather skirt, white shirt, chunky boots... Francesca Howard, is that Jaxxy's racing jacket?" gasped Gen, her voice tinny through the speakers.

Chess blushed immediately, jogging to the phone as best she could in heels so she could snatch it back up, curls bouncing around her shoulders.

"He came over last week to give Hazel her Christmas present, he might have left it behind... and it goes with my outfit!"

Chess tugged at the stiff leather, admiring herself in the outfit. She knew very little about Jax's job, except that it meant he had ownership of a very stylish nineties Ferrari jacket, something Chess had been coveting for years. Gen snorted on the other end of the phone, shaking her head.

"Tongues will wag, sis." Gen tsked, causing Chess to roll her eyes for the second time in about five minutes.

"Yeah, I'm sure everyone will think I'm bonking Jackson Otto." she laughed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. It was common knowledge in close circles that Jax had no interest in anything Chess, nor any woman had to offer, although the girls who wrote explicit Fanfiction about him from the comfort of their bedrooms had yet to catch on to this glaring fact.

At that, Chess lifted her head as she heard a rap at the door to the press room. Dropping her voice to a whisper, Chess held the reciever up to her mouth.

"I have to go, Gen. Enjoy cake tasting, okay?"

"Okay!" her sister whispered back, "break a leg, Cheshire Cat!"

Hanging up abruptly, Chess shoved her phone into the depths of Jax's jacket pocket just as the door swung open, revealing one of the most beautiful women Chess had ever seen in real life.

"Francesca?" she queried, juggling a clipboard and coffee cup so that she could hold a hand out to Chess, in a haze of strong-smelling perfume and bright smiles. "I'm Meg Davis, the social media manager."

Taking her hand, Chess gave it a soft shake, offering her a bright smile.

"Just Chess is okay, really. That's the name I use on Instagram." she explained. Meg showed all her teeth when she smiled and managed to both look incredibly sexy yet approachable at the same time. She wondered if there was a way to ask her how she did it without sounding like she was flirting.

"Alrighty, Just Chess. You want to see where the magic happens?"

Nodding eagerly, Chess shoved her hands in her pockets as she followed Meg out of the press room and out into the small studio. There were a handful of Instagram hopefuls, like herself, who had already been set loose on the models, the free samples, the table from craft services. The whole place was bustling with activity, no matter where Chess looked, a harried intern was running holding fistfuls of clothing, a model Chess had pinned to her Pinterest board a thousand times over had sprung to life and was reviewing her photos from behind the camera. The brunette's heart felt fit to burst. This was a small facet of the fashion industry, but it was the closest Chess had ever come to being on the inside. What was the quote? Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. Chess was certain she could die happy here.

Realising Meg had been talking to her, Chess nodded eagerly, trying to tune back in to the tail end of her speech.

"... So you'll have free reign to vlog and take photos of the day, the models, and of course, the clothes. Pretty much anything you want as long as you're not in the way of the actual shoot. And then you'll be expected to put something on your feed about the free samples, ca-peesh?" she said, drawing out her words, and raising a single eyebrow at Chess to make sure she understood. Chess pressed her signature red lips together, nodding eagerly.

"Really, we just want you guys to have fun. We'll probably get some photos of you all at the end, if that's okay?"

The thought of being behind a professional camera was kind of terrifying to the young Mum. Chess was used to her own iPhone set up, her carefully posed selfies that got all of her best angles in. But she smiled and nodded nevertheless, she feared she was beginning to resemble a nodding dog, actually. Remembering to use her words she chirped, "Amazing!"

Giving Chess' arm a little squeeze, Meg dismissed herself with a, 'have fun!' and a little wave, before skittering off in her kitten heels to... do whatever social media managers did. Talk to more Instagram girlies like herself, she supposed.

Peering around at the chaos, Chess wondered where to start. Everyone else seemed so incredibly confident, chattering animatedly to their front-facing cameras and flirting with the photographer and models. She was used to doing everything from the comfort of her plush bedroom, not putting herself on blast in front of four other infuencers with higher follower counts, better equipment and more confidence than herself.

Deciding to start small, and with her favourite part, Chess wandered over to the clothing rack. Her stomach fizzed with delight as she approached the rich fabrics, feeling very much the desire to make like young Lucy Pevensie entering Narnia and dive right in, burying her face in the luxurious fabrics. She managed to contain herself, and settled for taking her phone out, swiping into the camera and starting to record.

She took a few arty shots of her running her perfectly manicured nails over the fabrics, figuring she could edit it into a bigger Instagram reel later. It would be cool to get some shots of her surroundings, work up to the scary stuff. Using her free hand, Chess shook a few dresses loose from the rack, holding each one up to the camera to show them off. They were pieces Chess could only dream of owning.

Panning away from the clothing rack, Chess began filming the overhead exposed lighting, figuring it would be good for something. Perhaps she could do a slow pan of the whole studio? Dropping her camera, Chess began to execute her, rather brilliant, idea, only to find herself filming the naked torso of a male model.

Nearly dropping her phone in shock, Chess juggled her iPhone from one hand to the other before finally catching it, holding it tight against her chest.

"Oh, sugar." Chess blushed, peering up apologetically at the man. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were..."

Chess gestured towards the man's glistening chest, trying not to stare anymore than she already had. Her eyes moved from her phone, to the man, and back again, feeling her eyes grow comically wide and her face red. Oh, she might as well give up and go home now.

"I'm here with Meg, for the... social media outreach thing? I'm not like a... sex pest."

Squeezing her phone tight, she choked out, "I'll delete your, um...shirtlessness."

[duskwoodgirl4life]

Chapter 9

Alan's POV

I have been in the mental institution for 6 months now, I have been getting the help I so badly needed. Having therapy sessions once a week and group talks is helping me so much I have been put on meds. I was so against having to take any form of medication it felt like I was truly insane. As the days, weeks went on I soon came to realise that taking any form of medication for mental health is not a bad thing.

I have a nurse called Helen that comes into my room everyday and hands me my medication. We have grown to know each other and are able to have a laugh and a joke with each other. I find being able to laugh is by far one of the best medicines. I think if I wasn't able to I would not be here. I have had several visits from Cleo. I never thought in a million years she would want to ever see me again.

She found out where I was and wrote to me and she explained that she never wanted things to go this far. She didn't want me to end up in a mental institution but we did both agree that I did truly need the help and to go on ignoring it would end badly.

Today is visiting day Cleo will be arriving at noon, I go about my morning having my daily meds then breakfast. I shower and change ready to start my day. I so much enjoyed my visits with Cleo today it took us a while to get to the friendship stage. We talked about if I would come back to duskwood once I am able to leave. She doesn't want to see me leave because of what's happened. I told her it's something I have thought about a lot.

I have been thinking long and hard about going back to duskwood, but I think I need to put some distance between me and duskwood. I will miss all the events that take place, all the Christmas stalls that are put out each year. It's something I have to do at least for now. Who knows maybe I will find my way back someday.

I have a few places in mind that I would like to visit. I would like to go and visit America and maybe take a cruise putting some distance between me and duskwood is definitely needed.

The next day I wake up like any other normal day, Helen comes in with my daily meds. I have breakfast and take a shower. When I come back to my room I see a letter and a small box sitting on my pillow. I walk over and pick it up. I see that it's from Cleo. She doesn't normally write to me. We always see each other once a week picking up the envelope. I can smell her perfume. I take a second to take in the sweet smell of her perfume.

Dear Alan,

I just wanted to send you a letter to let you know I am thinking of you everyday, I just wanted to let you know that I won't be able to come visit like I normally do. I have come down with a sickness bug and I wouldn't want to make you sick. I promise once I am better I will come and visit and bring a box of your favourite cookies.

All my love

Cleo

Xxxxxx

I couldn't help but smile. Her kindness makes me so thankful for all the help and support I have received. I turn and see the small package sitting on the pillow. I pick it up and inside are six of my favourite cookies and lay on top is a small bag of homemade toffee. I decided to sit down on my bed taking out my writing things and write a letter to Cleo.

Dear Cleo,

Thank you so much for the lovely cookies and homemade toffee, I really can't thank you enough for all your kindness and support. I hope that you feel better soon. Make sure to have plenty of rest and hot drinks. I look forward to seeing you soon.

All my love

Alan

Xxxxx

I take the letter and put it inside an envelope sealing it up. I write Cleo's address and take it to the post box near the nurses station the next couple of days are uneventful. As I sit reading a book I hear a knock at the door. I look up and I don't recognise the women standing in front of me. She comes in and tells me her name's Lisa and she's part of the board that decides when patients are able to apply for early release.

I don't know what to say or think I never thought I would be able to apply, she explains everything and assures me that if I am successful I will still have plenty of help on the outside. I guess it's now or never if I have any hope of getting back to a normal like this is the time to do that.

I take a deep breath and start to fill out all the necessary forms. Lisa is a great help. She's been going over everything with me and helping make sure that the board takes notice of my progress.

[skyler10fic]

And I hope you don't mind another ask from me, but for the OTP asks 🙏:

5: Who offers the other one their jacket?

10: What sort of seasonal treats does your OTP like to eat?

15: Which one gets more excited over the first snow of winter?

ooo I don't mind at all! I love these too.

5: Who offers the other one their jacket?

I think Carol has a good bit of chivalry in her, so she'd do so proudly, and Daisy would accept, but insist they go inside and cuddle by the fire. Secretly Carol loves when her jacket smells of Daisy's perfume. Makes it extra comforting.

For Doctor and Rose, he'd obviously do it most often, (often because he'd tell her he was taking her to a warm place and then the TARDIS would take them somewhere she hadn't dressed for) but there have also been plenty of times where she'd have to bring him a coat when he gets working on something outside too late and gets chilly or share her blanket when he insists he is fine but she knows he is just being stubborn.

10: What sort of seasonal treats does your OTP like to eat?

I have a fic where Daisy and Carol decorate gingerbread women, which I think is very cute. Maybe this year I'll have them bake something new... hmmm

For Doctor and Rose, I bet they find a Christmas planet with the best peppermint bark in the universe. Not too sweet, a good balance between the chocolate and the candy cane crushed on top.

15: Which one gets more excited over the first snow of winter?

I can't pick. lol I think both Daisy and Carol and Doctor and Rose would probably all be complete children about it. Maybe I'll play with it in Daisy x Carol AUs where one has to overcome a tragic memory or just general distaste for it and the other shows them wonder and beauty again, but my Doctor x Rose fics and Daisy x Carol fics so far have them enamored with it. (Though, spoiler alert: less so in the current AU, simply for blizzard quantity/logistics. There's your teaser! haha)

These are so fun. Thank you, friend!

Send me Winter OTP Asks

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Twelve.

Unless a little miracle occurs in the writing, this will be the last chapter for a while, besties. I need to get the last chapters all plotted and planned perfectly, so updates are paused until I do. Thank you, as ever, for being such a beautiful and captive audience :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,716

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

It was a small, yet beautiful affair, the bride and groom exchanging their vows in front of the Christmas tree at Georgian House on New Year’s Eve, their loved ones assembled around them. Candles lit the room in a glitter of amber and ochre upon every surface, the scents of spruce and cinnamon perfuming the air.  

The groom wore a charcoal suit, as did his brothers, and the bride was resplendent in blush lace, the gown hugging her curves. The flower girl wore a little dress that matched that of the bride, Polly having to pull her back from hugging the legs of the woman she now referred to as mommy Bryn while she and her father exchanged rings.  

“And with the exchange of rings and vows, it gives me great pleasure to announce you man and wife. Go on now, John. Give her a kiss!” Johnny spoke, who had officiated the marriage, John taking his wife’s face in his hands as their lips met to the raucous cheers and applause from their guests. Just one month before, he had been a lonely single man, and now he was once again wed. To a vampire. One just couldn’t make it up.  

“Congratulations! Oh, you look so beautiful, flower,” Grace spoke warmly as she and Bryn embraced, Tommy offering his best to John.  

Bryn kissed her cheek, grasping her hands. “Well, if not for you and Polly, I likely wouldn’t have!” Grace and Polly had been instrumental in finding a dress at the last minute, Bryn giving them a vague idea of what she wished for, the women trawling through the bridal boutique within Birmingham city centre to find anything that matched.  

Polly had paid them a very handsome wedge to remain open after 5pm upon discovering a few dresses that fitted the description given. Bryn’s vast jewellery collection meant she was prepared there, a purchase of lace and Polly’s handiness at the sewing machine had sorted Katie, Bettie laid on the food and the house was already beautifully decorated enough.  

All John had to do was put his best suit on and not turn up drunk.  

Arthur had very nearly seen to the latter not happening, until he’d been reminded of his now sister-in-law's likely fury should he not wait until the celebrations afterwards. John had never seen a man push a bottle of whiskey away across a table so quickly. 

Music filled the air as the bride and groom received the warmest wishes from their guests, champagne flowing, Bettie’s delicious array of party food being devoured and merriment abounding. It was tinged with a little melancholy for Bryn, though, her heart clutched in sadness that Alexander and Joy were not present. She’d cried in John’s arms the day before after being sent an abundance of flowers from Joy, and a gift from Alexander she most definitely intended to enjoy, too.  

“So, what is it in this bottle your son sent?” John asked after finding her in the kitchen, opening said bottle up. “You were too busy having a moment to ask yesterday.”  

“This, my love, is a bloody pain to get into firstly,” she began, negotiating the wax seal with a knife. “Inside this bottle is virgin’s blood, which as I am unsure whether I have mentioned is the only way a vampire may become intoxicated. Something about the purity mixing with us being the antithesis of that, I don’t know, but it works.”  

His hand rubbed fondly at her bare upper back, mischief alighting his handsome features. “Nah, you didn’t mention that, but it’ll be fun getting to watch me new wife pissed out of her head.”  

Decanting a measure into a wine glass, she re-corked the bottle, taking a sip. “Oooh, it’s Japanese. I did wonder where he was at present, seems his travels have taken him from Sicily to the far east.” Another sip followed. “One glass I shall be merry, two and should think rather sloshed.” 

John nodded at the glass. “Hurry up and drink it, then.”  

“My darling husband,” she cooed, grasping his face gently in her hand. “Ever the perpetuator of shenanigans!” 

“Ar, that’s me.” Taking her hand, he led her back to the festivities, not able to stop himself from admiring her adoringly. Drunk or sober, she was his complete everything. Sinking the blood, she left a little in the bottom of the glass, topping off her champagne with it so it would not take immediate, strong effect. Much like alcohol for a human, it would require a few more glasses for her to become tipsy. 

They continued to mingle with their guests, eventually parting from one another, John enjoying time with his brothers while Bryn made a point to go and speak with the young woman she enjoyed the company of very much after their first meet at Christmas.  

“I have to say it, Bryn, your home is absolutely stunning,” Ada spoke, being given the grand tour by her new sister-in-law. “And you’re letting a reprobate like our John move in, too. Brave.”  

She widened her eyes a fraction. “See those vases over there on the landing? He nearly broke one three nights ago. Drunk as a lord, falling up the stairs making his intentions very clearly known. ‘I’m gonna smash the hell out of you, bab!’ is what I had yelled at me, before he stumbled and very nearly ended up smashing my beautiful porcelain instead. Thank the stars I can move as rapidly as I do, saving it mid-descent to the ground.”  

Ada shook her head. “My brother, ever the charmer.” Running her hand over the rim of the tall, black and gold vase, she marvelled at its beauty. “How old are they?” 

Bryn paused for thought a moment. “I was living in China when I bought them new, so that makes them around three hundred years old. They did well to survive the voyage when I moved back to European shores, packed in crates padded out with hay.”  

Immediately Ada removed her hand, looking perturbed. “Yes, and my clod of a brother lives here now. You might want to glue things down, Bryn.”  

The vampire chuckled, resting a hand to her shoulder. “He isn’t that bad, I assure you. Although he did break my bed, but that wasn’t from any kind of clumsiness. The fewer details you know there, the better, I feel.” 

She snorted, pulling a face. “Yeah, yeah do spare me those!” They shared laughter, heading back down the staircase, Bryn telling her of the history behind the grand crystal chandelier when suddenly, an almighty boom sounded from outside. 

“Stay here,” she instructed, placing a protective hand against Ada’s middle to halt her upon the stairs, moving rapidly to look through the glass panels bordering the front door. The sound of surprised gasps and commotion coming from the sitting room reached her ears, the pounding footfalls of heavy boots striding towards her as she witnessed the second car parked out there explode into a ball of flames.  

Turning, the first eyes she met were Tommy’s, both silently confirming one another’s thoughts.  

“Cover the rear of the house, I will hover above where my eyes will be of greatest merit to see what’s coming.”  

It hadn’t been lost on either of them, the distraction tactics. The same could not be said for Bryn’s newly betrothed, though.  

“Them fucking cunts,” John growled, yanking a machine gun from the hallway cupboard where they were stowed in times of no guards being present upon the front gates, striding for the front door. Immediately, his wife appeared in front of him. “Bryn, out of the way.” 

“Darling, no. Get to the back of the house with your brothers,” she spoke, her eyes as urgent as her tones, flitting to see Arthur arm himself similarly, throwing one to Tommy as well.  

“But they’re fucking out the bloody front!” he yelled, Bryn closing her eyes tightly. 

“It’s a diversion, John! Get to the back of the house. Trust me. Remember my place in commanding an army as a human. I have seen this before.” He was about to make protest, but the look she shot him made the words shrivel and die right there in his throat, indeed remembering. When your wife was once hailed as a warlord, it was perhaps not in a man’s best interests to argue with her.  

“Ada, get the guests into the cellar, children first,” she then spoke, all of the men capable of fighting heading to the rear of the house, Isaiah and Mickey keeping an eye on the front from concealed points at the front windows, just to be certain. The three eldest of the Shelby men moved swiftly to the back of the house, Bryn vanishing within a flash.  

True to her estimations, bullets began to fly through the air, the three taking points of concealment to begin fighting back against the onslaught of machine gun wielding northers peppering the rear of the house with bullets. Being gunners in the army, the former members of the Warwickshire Yeomanry gave as good as they got, men hitting the ground with grunts as they were taken out, John wondering just where Bryn had gotten to when suddenly, a Rasmussen found himself in flight. 

She was bringing the attack from the air, he saw, the man screaming in surprise before his corpse hit the snowy ground, his head dropped a second later.  

“Got a bit of an affinity for that, hasn’t she?” Tommy shouted over the roar of the guns.  

“She ain’t half,” John snickered, watching another leave the ground rapidly. She seemed to change track then, the remaining men finding themselves rapidly disarmed, five of them left, Bryn landing neatly before them as her husband and brothers-in-law stood.  

“Do you have this handled, Brynhild? I think the fire brigade could benefit from being called and somebody going to check the front,” Tommy spoke, adjusting his jacket.  

Her smile grew, an eerie growl rattling her throat. One of the men made a move to his pocket, finding himself shot straight between the eyes by John. “Any more of ya move an inch and I swear to fuck, this ain’t gonna end well for ya. The rest of you, drop the bloody guns. Now.”  

She smiled, jerking her head in his direction as she spoke to Tommy. “If I didn’t, then he certainly does.” He departed, Bryn pivoting neatly, eyeing the men with alarming menace. “I feel the silver upon you all. If you wish to leave with your lives intact, then drop your weaponry and fight me, five on one. See how well you can best a woman when not armed with such an advantage.” 

One ran, Arthur sending a round into his back, the four remaining all rifling in their pockets, taking the silver knives they were armed with and casting them aside. “We go down fighting, lads. Hold your chins up now, boys.”  

“Yes,” Bryn rumbled in dark laughter, popping her fangs. “Hold your chins up, let me get a good look at what I am to bite.” She moved in a nanosecond, the first man missing his throat in the next moment, dropping to the floor. The remaining two found themselves toyed with, the vampire allowing them to get a few punches in even, laughing and cracking them back with balled fists that shattered bones, grinning widely as she did.  

The brother’s exchanged glances, Arthur pulling his hipflask out. “Shall we er, shall we just stand here and let her get on with it, John boy?” 

He took the flask passed to him, glugging back a few mouthfuls as he watched his wife put her fist clean through a skull. “Yeah, might as well. She looks like she’s having a good time of it.” He raised his eyebrows, passing the flask back, letting out a low whistle as he scratched his head.  

“What’s that face for, eh?” Arthur inquired, he and John ducking when a severed arm flew in their direction.  

“Ahh, just thinking how knackered I’m gonna be tomorrow. If she’s this amped up, she ain’t gonna calm down easily, so I’ll probably have to spend most of the early morning fucking her until she finally unwinds.” He snorted laughing, his grin widening. “What a fucking hardship, eh?” 

Arthur joined him in drunken laughter, watching Bryn continue to eviscerate the men. “Go on, love! Enjoy yaself!” He chuckled, looking back at John. “I think the way she is right now, you’ll probably break her back before you calm her down.” 

Once again, the hipflask was passed, John still tittering with mirth. “I dislocated her hip once, shagging the absolute shit out of her, I was. Proper gave her a pounding and then suddenly, CRACK! And she just fucking pops it back in like it’s nothing and tells me to carry on!” 

“Fucking hell!” 

“I know!” 

Arthur hiccupped, a long snort of laughter suddenly leaving his nose, hysterics following.  

“What?” John chuckled, laughing more the further his brother fell apart. 

“Your wife...” 

“Yeah, what about me wife?” 

“She’s a fucking vampire!” His laughter was but a drunken hiss as he hugged his sides, snorting, John descending with him. “How the fuck is our life even fucking real that you’re married to a dead bird? And how am I alright with it all when I was so fucking... well you know how I was.” 

John watched Bryn’s little spree of carnage end, dropping a severed head onto the floor, muttering complaint about her patio becoming bloody. “Because she’s great?” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, the vampire herself appearing before them at speed, Arthur reaching out and holding her face in his hands, kissing her forehead. “She bloody is.” 

“Okay, it seems I am done,” Bryn finished, sucking blood from her fingers, grinning in triumph.  

“And what do you propose is done with the bodies, bab?” Arthur asked, reaching to pull a piece of sinew from her hair.  

“I have some old, jute sacks in the outhouse from coal deliveries. I shall scoop up what remains, weigh each one down and dump them into Witton Lakes. It is the nearest deep body of water I can think of.” 

“You better hurry, love,” John spoke, jerking his head in the direction of the house. “Fire brigade will be here in a bit, and the old bill will likely turn up with ‘em an’ all.” 

He made a good point. The sudden explosion of a number of cars would of course rouse suspicion of criminal activity. While she was ferrying the dead over to Witton, though, John and Arthur assisting in quickly covering all the bloodied snow by shovelling fresh atop it, Tommy explained away the incident to the police.  

“I think it was my fault, constable,” he began, viewing the smouldering wreck of his Bentley. “I tampered with the fuel pipe before we went in, sure somat was coming loose there for the fact I noticed a little puddle of fuel on the drive. All it took was somebody accidentally being careless with a cigarette end and whoomph. They all went up.”  

His lie was believed completely, for who on earth would want to condemn his own Bentley to the fiery inferno it had become? “And you are the owner of the property, Mr. Shelby?” 

“No, that’d be my sister-in-law. One moment.” Bryn was speedily lathering a bar of Pears soap in her hands when he found her in the kitchen, touching a hand to her shoulder. “The old Bill are out front, want a word with you, sweetheart.”  

She nodded, placing a kiss upon his cheek as she passed him by, going to relay the same reason for the fire as she’d heard Tommy himself state. “I will arrange for the cars to be towed away tomorrow, lest bring the beauty of the neighbourhood down, officer.” 

He smiled at her, nodding. “Not to worry, my lady. We’ll pencil this up as a very unfortunate accident and be on our way. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”  

Oh, how she planned to.  

Her first call was to open more champagne, and get stuck into the bottle of blood sent by her son a little further.  

“Go on, bab. Get it down ya neck!” John encouraged, witnessing her chugging it directly from the bottle. She turned to him with a wide grin, a definite twinkle glittering her eye. “Oh blimey, I know that look. I’m gonna have a right sore cock tomorrow, ain’t I?”  

She chuckled, reaching for him, pulling him close by his suit jacket. “Nothing a little vampire blood shan’t fix.” 

His eyes widened. “I think I’m gonna need more than a little by the way you’re looking at me, fucking hell!” Oh, how right he’d been in what he’d shared with Arthur. Placing the empty bottle down, she beamed at him, moving to run her hands over his chest and exchange kisses of heated longing. They didn’t last too much longer among their guests, quietly slipping away to their bedroom.  

John still couldn’t quite believe it, that he’d gone from a back-to-back on Watery Lane to such an exclusive address, picking up his bride and nibbling her cheek before carrying her to the bedroom as she giggled drunkenly. A flick of her hand had all the many candles as well as the fireplace roaring into life, their undress hungry yet careful, lying naked and entwined while sharing magmatic kisses.  

The fire built to roar steadily as they relished in one another, burning as strongly as their desire, casting the alabaster of John’s skin in a beautiful, deep amber glow as Bryn watched him delight her body in kisses and licks The muscles in his back undulated in a display of erotic delight, his mouth eventually settling between her legs, tongue drubbing through the petals of her cunt with wild hunger.   

He, as ever, had her mewling and twitching against his ministrations, one hand clasping her breast while the other pulled tight in his hair, the suction of his lips around her tender, throbbing bud evoking a wail. A bonfire of pleasure roared within her core, the need to be filled by him driving the vampire to distraction. 

“John, please, my darling. I need you.” 

He grinned against her, skimming a quick lick over her swollen clit. “Already got me right here, though, ain’t ya?” 

“Don’t be clever!” Her frustration was met by the usual amusement, his laugh filling the air. “You know exactly what I want, John Shelby.” 

“Oh ar, sweetheart. I know.” Open mouthed kisses plotted his ascent of her body, big hands pushing her thighs wider, his entire form rippling with the anticipation of being inside her as her husband for the first time, the press and stretch of him making her gasp as she sheathed him, his entire length arrowing into her soaking centre.  

Spearing her, watching the round of each breast bounce from the force, a wanton growl echoing his chest, his teeth sharp at her nipples, hands flexing upon her waist as he drove himself back and forth, enjoying the clutch of wet satin around him, panting hard against her soft, tattooed flesh.  

Already, the heat of it fizzed caustically through her bones, thighs trembling as they began to squeeze tightly around him, his mouth everywhere. Ravenous kisses peppered her breasts, clavicles and neck, his throat rumbling with the most sexual of sounds. Nothing sounded as sinful to her as John’s groans when he was inside of her.   

She was vanquished by her new husband completely, spread around the thick of his cock, held under his weight, her fingertips exploring, mapping each rise and fall of him, nails grazing his back. The way his body rutted against her provided the perfect pressure against her potent little bundle, already swollen from the incessant laving of his tongue, lightning beginning to flicker at the base of her spine as she twitched and pulsed around him. 

His girth dragged her, the hot wet of her saturating him with the gloss of her arousal, his hips beginning to piston against her. He held her face in his hands, staring down at her. “Fucking love you so much, Bryn.” he panted, teeth grazing her throat, fingers moving to tangle within her hair, the wild heat rising between them both. Each kiss he bestowed swallowed down every one of her little cries as their lips meet, whispering his love for her again tenderly, a heavenly juxtapose to how brutally he began to fuck her. 

They clamoured at each other, intense love and passions spiralling, his hands grasped tight upon her thighs, holding her still enough to take the full brunt of each merciless thrust, coaxing heady wails, watching as she gritted and cussed, his smile wide. The sounds of her moans were not the only sounds audible to him, though, the thump of hands pounding against the bedroom door the precursor to the next.  

“Go on, our John boy!” Arthur roared, laughing, a clearly entertained Tommy at least attempting to pull him away from the door through his own snickering. “Ain’t no man who fucks his woman as thorough as a fuckin’ Shelby man!”  

Bryin raised an eyebrow, her hands running down his sweaty chest. “Your brother is at least correct in his heckled encouragement.” 

“Ain’t half.” he panted, mouth pressing to hers once more as they both began to feel the rolling orb of heat swell and tumble, ice chased by tempest over their bones, his thrusts becoming staccato, cock making constellations burst through the hug of her molten walls. 

She cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as she clung on, rolling her hips up against him, the lightning jumping from strike point to strike point as the storm both swelled and crashed, her entire body alight as he pulsed jets of hot cum within her fluttery walls.  

Utterly spent, breathless and all that was electrifying ebbing away, the sparks persisted in gentle fizz, Bryn stroking his face as they shared tender kisses. As John predicted, it took a long time to wear his new wife out, but as they fell into sleep just as the dawn broke, it was with a huge smile upon his face for finally managing to do it.  

[hauntingsoundtracks]

List of titles

To make the search on the blog easier, I've compiled a list of the movies, shows, etc that have at least one music here. I'll do my best to keep it updated as I add more.

Unfortunately tumblr won't let me publish a post with so many links, so I'm unable to add a link to each corresponding tag.

See the list under the cut :

List of movies / animated movies : 12 Monkeys 28 Days Later 2001: A Space Odyssey A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night Alien Aliens American Beauty A Nightmare On Elm Street Arizona Dream A Series of Unfortunate Events Babe Baby Driver Basic Instinct Batman Returns Beetlejuice Black Swan Blade Runner Blood Simple Bram Stoker's Dracula Brazil Candyman Carrie Casper Clockwork Orange Conan The Barbarian Coraline Corpse Bride Crash Crimes Of The Future Dancer In The Dark Dark City Darkman Death Proof Devdas Die Hard Dirty Dancing Divine Intervention Donnie Darko Don't Worry I'm Fine Dune (1984) Dr. Strangelove Dune (2021) Edward Scissorhands Escaflowne Escape From New-York Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind Excalibur Eyes Without A Face Fargo Firestarter For A Few Dollars More From Dusk Till Dawn From Hell Full Metal Jacket Gattaca Get Out Ghost Ghostbusters Ghost In The Shell Gremlins Groundhog Day Halloween Hellraiser Hereditary Home Alone Howl's Moving Castle Interstellar Interview With A Vampire In The Mood For Love Jane Eyre (1996) Jane Eyre (2011) Jurassic Park La Belle et la Bête / Beauty And The Beast (1946) Legend Leon Le Père Noël est une ordure / Santa Claus is a Stinker Lisa Frankenstein Little Miss Sunshine Little Women (1994) Mad Max Fury Road Mandy Melancholia Microcosmos Midnight Express Midsommar Moonrise Kingdom Moulin Rouge! Mulholland Drive Near Dark Nikita Nope O Brother, Where Art Thou? Oldboy Once Upon A Time In The West Only Lovers Left Alive Oppenheimer Out Of Rosenheim / Bagdad Café Perfect Blue Perfume : The Story Of A Murderer Portrait Of A Lady On Fire Ravenous Re-Animator Romeo + Juliet Pan's Labyrinth Phantom Of The Paradise Phenomena Philadelphia Pi Pink Floyd The Wall Platoon Poltergeist Practical Magic Predator Pride And Prejudice Princess Mononoke Queen Of The Damned Requiem For A Dream Robocop Rosemary’s Baby Scanners Scream Sleepwalkers Sleepy Hollow Starship Troopers Star Wars Episode IV Star Wars Episode V Star Wars Episode VI Strictly Ballroom Suspiria (1977) Suspiria (2018) Tacones Lejanos / High Heels Terminator 2 : Judgement Day The Abyss The Addams Family The City Of Lost Children The Company Of Wolves The Craft The Crow The Dark Crystal The Elephant Man The Exorcist The Fifth Element The Fly The Frighteners The Hobbit : An Unexpected Journey The Hunger Games The Hunger Games : Catching Fire The Hunger Games : Mockingjay Part 1 The Hunger Games : Mockingjay Part 2 The Innocents The King And The Mockingbird The Land Before Time The Lord Of The Rings : The Fellowship Of The Ring The Lord Of The Rings : The Two Towers The Lord Of The Rings : The Return Of The King The Lost Boys The Lovely Bones The Matrix The Mission The Neverending Story The Nightmare Before Christmas The Omen The Others The Piano The Prestige The Rocky Horror Picture Show The Shining The Sixth Sense The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya The Terminator The Thing The Thin Red Line The Virgin Suicides The Witch The Witches Of Eastwick Time Of The Gypsy Titane Tommy Total Recall Tron Legacy Under The Skin Us Whiplash Willow Wings Of Desire / Der Himmel über Berlin

List of series / miniseries / animated series : Battlestar Galactica Berserk Buffy The Vampire Slayer Cowboy Bebop Dark Dragon Ball Z Elfen Lied Game Of Thrones Lost Lucifer Misfits Our Flag Means Death Over The Garden Wall Record Of Lodoss War : Chronicles Of The Heroic Knight Serial Experiments Lain Stephen King's IT Stranger Things Teen Wolf The Dark Crystal : Age Of Resistance The Haunting of Bly Manor The Haunting of Hill House The Vision Of Escaflowne True Blood Twin Peaks Westworld What We Do In The Shadows Yellowjackets

List of games : Bad Dream : Coma Final Fantasy VII Stardew Valley

List of podcasts : The Magnus Archives The Magnus Protocol

[peakypoet]

@look-at-the-soul

@cillmequick

@gypsy-girl-08

@watercolorskyy

@alex-in-the-wilderness

Hope y'all enjoy

One Shot: Your Desire

Warnings: Smut, very light bdsm, cussing, and 18+ only

Tommy sits at his desk looking at the window smoking a cigarette. He enjoys the view of the blue sky. It relaxes him to get his mind off things. Those things were like the business. As he sits there, Arthur comes in with a flier.

" Tom you got this in the mail", Arthur says handing it to him.

" Eh, what is it?", Tommy asks taking it. He blows some smoke in the air.

" I think I know Tom", Arthur says standing there watching him.

" Please don't tell ey", Tommy says as he starts to open it.

Arthur listens and watches him.

Tommy opens it up.

It reads,  We invite you to our new gentlemen's club called " Desire." We open tonight at 8pm. Please wear a masquerade mask and suit. Our address is 120 Watery Lane.

" I like this brother", Tommy says with a nod.

Tommy hands it to Arthur.

" I've heard about this place from guys around here", Arthur says looking at the flier.

" What they say ey?", Tommy asks with his cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

" I heard they have hot women there." " Also, there's a woman named madame Y/n she's the best", Arthur says looking at Tommy.

" I'd like to meet her broth'a", Tommy says smoking still.

" Go tonight Tom", Arthur says handing him back the flier.

" I will ey." " I know the perfect suit to wear too", Tommy says taking the flier.

" You mean the black pinstripe one?", Arthur asks leaning against the wall.

" Yes, and I got my black and silver mask from a few years ago", Tommy says putting his cigarette out.

" I remember that one Tom." " You wore that to a charity gala for the orphanage", Arthur says with a nod.

" I got a lot of compliments too", Tommy says leaning back in his leather office chair.

" You going Arth'a?", Tommy asks.

" No, I'm hanging out at the garrison", Arthur says watching him.

" Well, I'll tell you how it is", Tommy says with a nod.

" Please do. I'll go some time whenever", Arthur says.

" No problem", Tommy says clasping his hands together.

" I'll be going now Tom", Arthur says going to the door.

" Thanks for giving me this broth'a", Tommy says with a smile.

" No problem." " Please have a good time Tom", Arthur says opening the door.

" I will", Tommy says with confidence.

Then Arthur leaves, leaving Tommy alone.

An Hour Before Going to the Club

Tommy gets himself ready. He goes to shave his face. Second he takes a hot shower. As he showers, he thinks about the madame Arthur mentioned. " Who is she?", Tommy thinks to himself. He ponders on it. " The name sounds very exotic", he says in his mind.

Then he gets out of the shower. He grabs his red towel with his initials on it. It says, " T.S." Ada gave that to him for Christmas last year. He dries himself up good. Afterwards he gets dressed. First he puts his suit on. Second Tommy puts on his best cologne. His cologne smells like him. The scent is smoke and whiskey. His brother John had a perfumer make that. Tommy wears it a lot. Third he puts his black and silver Rolex watch on. Last, but not least he dons his mask on.

Tommy goes to the stand at the mirror for a second. He looks himself over. " I'll catch her eye", Tommy says with a big smile. Then he leaves going to his car garage.

Tommy walks into his garage and picks the Mercedes slr Mclaren to drive. He had other cars to drive, but he chose that one. Reason is because it matches him. The color of it is black with silver. He gets out his car keys with a smile. Clicking the unlock button, he gets in. Before he leaves, he gets out his phone. He goes to take a picture of himself all dressed up to his family. A second later Arthur and the others text back this emoji to Tommy, 👍. Tommy smiles at the text. He puts his phone down and heads his way to the club.

The Club

As Tommy arrives, a valet comes to the car. He gets out. " Please be careful, ey", Tommy says handing him the key. " Will do sir", the valet says taking his keys.

Tommy takes in the sight of the club as he walks to the entrance. He sees bouncers guarding the outside door. Plus a red carpet leading to the door. " This is one fancy club", Tommy thinks to himself.

Tommy approaches the door and the bouncers open it for him. " Enjoy sir", the bouncers say as Tommy enters. " I will", Tommy says walking in. All sorts of women with masks walk around. Tommy glances taking a look at his surroundings. A woman stroking a guys cock stands to his right. Walking further down he sees a lady flirting with a guy at a table. The area is very dim with lighting here and there. Lights are only at the tables and bar. A jazz band plays at the stage. People dancing in a way he doesn't really like. They looked like idiots to Tommy. He was used to normal dancing, which was ballroom or slow dancing.

He reaches the bar taking a seat. A older guy comes to the counter. " What would you like to drink sir?", he asks politely. " I'd like a irish whiskey on ice please", Tommy says looking at him. " Will do", the guy says going to get his drink. Tommy looks around as he waits for his drink.

Madame Y/n

You sit in the distance at your table. Looking around for the man that catches your eye. A man sitting at the bar catches your eye. He has a black pinstripe suit with a mask to match. " Mmm", you utter quietly to yourself. Then you get up and walk his way.

Tommy still looks around, but doesn't notice you walking his way. He was busy looking at the band. " Your drink sir", the old guy says. Tommy turns around to take it. " Thank you", Tommy says giving him some money. He takes a sip of his drink.

You get near the man, taking a seat quietly next to him at the bar. Tommy looks at his glass a minute; still unaware of you. " May I sit with you?", you ask looking at him.  " Yes love", Tommy says looking at you with surprise. His mouth hangs open a little at the sight of you. He puts his drink down. " What brings you here tonight?", you ask looking into his eyes. " I'm looking for a madame Y/n", Tommy says softly looking at you. You smile seductively at him. " I'm her", you whisper into his ear. " I'd love to get to know you madame Y/n", Tommy says softly. " Follow me to my room", you say getting up. " Ok", Tommy says doing the same.

Desire

You lead him to a small hallway. Your wiggle your ass as you walk. Tommy looks at it while walking behind you. He feels his cock twitch at the sight of it. You stop at a red door, unlocking it. " This way", you say opening the door. Tommy obeys and walks in your room. " Stand in the middle there", you say closing the door. Tommy does what you say without questioning. He looks at the bed. " Close your eyes", you say locking the door. " Yes madame Y/n", Tommy says closing his eyes. He loves the game your playing. Tommy feels a rush of anticipation come over him.

Then you come up behind him quietly. " What is your name?", you ask seductively in his ear. " My name is Thomas", he says with confidence. " Mmm sexy name", you say watching him. He blushes at your comment you see. " What is your desire Thomas?", you ask walking in front of him. " My desire is to fook you so good", Tommy says with a smile. " Indeed you will, but you must do what I ask first Thomas", you say looking him over. " What is that madame Y/n?", Tommy asks. " Please undress with your eyes closed", you say walking to your dresser. " Yes madame y/n", Tommy says as he starts taking his bow tie off. He kind of struggles getting his clothes off, but manages to complete your task.

You open your drawer getting out a feather tickler. Closing the drawer, you look over at Thomas. You admire his masculine body. He reminded you of a sex god. His cock was nice and big. Also, some precum was glistening on the head of it. Your core was getting wet looking at him.

You walk back over to him. Then you stop to stand right in front of him. " Love your sexy body", you say running the feather tickler slowly down his chest. Tommy utters a small moan. " Can I open my eyes?", Tommy begs to you. " Not yet Tommy", you say stopping the tickler right on the head of his cock. You smile licking your lips. Then you tease his cock with the tickler tapping it lightly. His cock twitches at its touch. " That tickles madame y/n", Tommy moans with a cute giggle. You keep on going till he begs you to stop. " Say please stop madame y\n Thomas", you say with dominance.

" Please stop madame y/n", Tommy begs with mercy to you.

Then you stop tickling him. " Can I open my eyes?", Tommy asks. " Yes you may", you say putting the tickler up. Tommy opens his eyes looking at you. " I want you to lay on the bed please", you say seductively. Tommy obeys going to the bed. He lays down watching you with a hard on. His cock hits his stomach. " You're going to join me madame y/n", Tommy moans in his sexy accent. " Yes Tommy", you say grabbing two red sashes on your drawer. Next you take off your outfit setting it on the chair. Tommy smiles admiring the view of you naked. You go to the side of the bed with a smile on your face. " Put your left arm on the bed rest Thomas", you say grabbing the red sash. Thomas obeys you. He smiles putting his arm up. " Love your obedience Tommy", you moan tying his left arm to the bed post. Then you do the same with his right arm.

After you tie his arms to the bed post; you make sure that he can't get loose. It was tied where it didn't hurt him. You get onto the bed where your core is above his cock. " Fook you have a nice core", Tommy moans looking at it. " It wants your big cock", you moan spreading your folds. It glistens with your wetness." I'll give it to you madame y/n", Tommy moans looking at you. You take his cock guiding it to your entrance. Then you slowly sit on it. " Oh Tommy you feel so good inside me", you moan seductively looking at him. Tommy moans looking you over for a minute. " I'm a lucky man", Tommy moans softly. " Fuck me so good Tommy", you moan not moving.

Then Tommy starts fucking you by thrusting upwards. You look into his eyes as you moan his name. " Fook you're a goddess", Tommy moans pounding your core upwards. Your core gets wetter the faster he fucks you. " You're my sex god Tommy", you moan loudly touching your breasts.

Tommy watches you moaning your name. He tries to lean over to kiss you, but he can't. His breathing and panting gets louder by the minute.

You start bouncing on him as he fucks you. Also, you try to bounce at the pace he fucks you. You stop touching your breasts, so they can bounce as well.

Tommy looks at your breasts, fucking you. He wishes that he could touch them.

A look of awe appears on his face; moaning with ecstasy.

" Fuck me harder", you moan looking at him.

Tommy obeys literally fucking you like an animal.

His big balls smack your ass. The headboard on the bed starts hitting the wall. Your inner walls start clenching his cock like a vice.

You keep looking into his eyes with lust. Wet sounds grow louder the longer he fucks you.

" Please let me go", Tommy begs.

You listen to him, so you lean over to untie his arms.

He immediately puts you under him. Where he takes charge. He kisses you passionately where tongues meet. You two kiss for a bit. Then he puts his big strong hand on your neck where it doesn't hurt you. " Look into my eyes beautiful", he moans looking at you. You moan getting lost in his eyes. Then the wave of pleasure comes over you two. You cum first literally squirting all over his cock. Tommy cums next spilling all his hot seed inside you. He slows down, letting his hand go off your neck. " Your'e the best beautiful", Tommy says softly pulling out of you. " You too Tommy", you say watching him. He goes to lay down on the bed. You go to lay next to him. " You single madame Y/n?", Tommy asks putting his arm behind your back.

" Yes, I am", you say putting your head on his chest. You play with the few hairs on his chest.

" For now on you service me only", Tommy says kissing your forehead.

" I love that, but I'll fall in love with you", you say blushing at him.

" Please do. I'll wind up loving you too. Then marrying you", Tommy says kissing you passionately. You two kiss for a bit longer. After awhile of enjoying each other in bed; you two leave the club together. Tommy takes you home, where you two can be with each other always and forever.

[itwasalladreamsworld]

Coat Tale

It was the Saturday after the lounge Christmas party. Barbara had been feeling so good from the company and wine that evening, that she forgot her best winter coat in her classroom. With two weeks off and a polar vortex in the forecast, Barbara knew she would have to go to Abbott to retrieve it before the weekend was over. As she entered the school and walked by the front desk, she cast a glance into the enigmatic principal’s office. Barbara and Ava spent time together over the summer working over the budget for the grant they received and developed a friendly relationship. At Ava’s behest, they expanded that time to include a biweekly admin meeting to ensure Ava was staying on the right track.  Barbara still found her impossible at times, but she knew a lot of that was bravado. Recognized that Ava set low work expectations because of the high demand of her personal and family obligations.

As she passed the lounge, she thought of the conversation about Tamika’s mother and her clothing line. How she’d felt small when Ava chastised her but when she looked in her eyes only saw the care and a desire for Barbara’s mind not to be so closed. The whole incident had shifted something in Barbara. Ava had been standing in the hallway when Barbara apologized to Tamika’s mom. After the apology, while the kids were still coming into the classroom and getting ready for the day, Ava caught her eye from the doorway and with a bright smile mouthed “Good girl.” Her perfume lingered and Barbara’s stomach clenched with unexpected arousal. She brushed it off as pleasure in an unexpected moment of praise, but that belief was thrown out the window the day Ava substituted for Janine. Though Ava had been frustrated, she had glowed that whole day. And since then, she has been living with her own Ava induced fever. She nearly lost her scruples when Ava entered the library in her Mrs. Clause costume. She mentioned Santa Clause's heart condition because she felt close to a heart attack herself. As she shook herself out of the memory, Barbara retrieved her coat and headed toward the exit, when she saw a flash of neon green.

She looked up and there was the object of her thoughts. Ava Coleman standing with her back to her office window in what appeared to be a neon green yoga crop top and matching leggings. She bent over to retrieve something from the other side of her desk and Barbara felt frozen. 10 seconds or 10 minutes could have passed when she hears “Barb you’re starring.” When she focuses, she finds Ava standing in front of her with a knowing smirk. “What’re you doing here,” Barbara asks softly unable to take her eyes off Ava. “Forgot I had some gifts delivered here and I’m trying to get all of my wrapping done before the weekend is over. Got to help my Granny and sister with their stuff during the week.” Barbara smiled at that; Ava really was one of the sweetest women she’d ever met.

Ava nodded to the coat in her arms “See you came to retrieve the big gun for this ridiculousness on the way. It’s getting to be nipple-cutting weather…” Barbara furrowed her brow at the statement and gave Ava a knowing look. Barb chuckled and said, “I’ll be doing quite a few things downtown with my daughters and wanted to make sure I had all the warmth I can get.” Ava smiled and looked at her with a look she couldn’t recognize. “The temp dropped between my drive from the house here, so you’ll definitely need it now”

Ava moves to take the coat from Barbara’s arm and slowly turns her around. Barbara is enveloped in Ava’s perfume and closes her eyes. Ava very gently helps Barbara into her coat, her fingers softly brushing the nape of her neck as she adjusts the collar. Barbara tries to hide her shudder from the touch but is unsuccessful by the way Ava’s eyes are dancing with mirth when she turns back around. “Thank you, Ava. I hope you have a great holiday break.” she whispers with a tender smile. Ava moves to fix her lapel and takes a step further into Barbara’s personal space, leaving very little room between them. She looks Barbara directly in the eye as she cups her cheek “I hope you have an excellent break as well. And maybe once everything is settled, we can talk about the way your eyes follow me everywhere I go and the way that I’m really into it.” Barbara’s eyes go wide at this and thinks briefly about denying it but Ava is looking at her like she could be the safest space in the world and she wants to run towards that. Ava places a chaste kiss on her lips, rubs her right hand on her cheek, and then is out the door. Barbara touches her lips and is suddenly very much looking forward to the new year.

[vegasposhfashions]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: FARMHOUSEFRESH Rainbow Road & Sweet Tea Shea Butter Handcreams.