deeedeeedeeedeee:

Thanks, everyone, for reading and reviewing! You all are fabulous.
Thanks, kouw, as always, for everything! conversation, shouting, beta-magic, all of it!

Excerpt: nope. it’s loving smut, friends. enjoy!

There’s a really obvious f-word name (not fucking) that would work for this chapter, but I refuse! to use it as the title, so “floating” it is. sure. floating. :D

Honeymoon time!

You know this chapter is going to be smutty! In fact, my beta - the always lovely deeedeeedeeedeee - says I’d better warn you that this is rather racy and your pants may explode.

excerpt: “You should send your sister a postcard,” he suggests and Elsie laughs.

“You don’t think that would be a bit petty?’ She asks.

“If we’d gone to York or to Dundee or Paris or Timbuktu, wouldn’t you have sent her a postcard?”

 

Gird your loins, it’s M-rated smut time!
Don’t forget to let me know what you think and don’t forget this is not safe for work/church/public transport/and such!

excerpt: His bare skin - warm and soft and slightly damp from the hot night - is under the palm of her hand and she presses her fingers down, gripping his flesh. He is a man of substance: a strong, broad man.

Thank you, deeedeeedeeedeee for your fantabulous beta!

Today in cold medicine adventures: Fluffy McSmut! (may also be Smutty McFluff - they are twins, I have trouble keeping them apart)

excerpt:  She leans against him, her arm reaching over his shoulder to shut the door, his lips on hers, so insistent and warm, his hands sliding over her sides, grasping her hips. She wants him, she cannot hold back the moan that escapes her when his mouth leaves hers to suck on the pulsepoint on her neck.

A monster chapter, about 3/4 smut and fluff.

Dedicated to three people I know are celebrating their birthdays this week: nimblewordplay batwings79 and akachankami

non-smutty excerpt: It’s not what she had once thought her wedding would be, but it’s good enough. She doesn’t need a white dress and a gathering of people she knows. She just wants Charles and to say those words that will make them irrevocably entangled forever. If she were to die tomorrow, her headstone would say: ‘Elsie Carson, beloved wife of Charles Carson’.

Things are better for everyone, but will they remain that way?

excerpt: Has it only been a day since she cut into a madeira cake to share with the rest of the staff? Only a day since she almost started singing ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’ when there was a knock on the door? Only a day since doubts settled so sharply and were laid to rest again?

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

I did it! A bit smutty under 300 words. Oh yeah. I’m proud.

excerpt: His breathing is warm against her ear, his scent in her nose and she cannot imagine loving anyone more than she loves him right now, in this moment, nor wanting him so much

Drabble #10 : The Carsons Universe - all the smut. Happy, joyful, loving smut.

excerpt: She has given him all a man could want: love, affection, respect and all of it without losing herself. She is as independent, as witty, practical and strong-minded as she ever was. She has not changed in all the time he has known her, though their circumstances have. Their courtship - not the demure, shy kind you read about in novels, but a sensible time filled with plans and hopes that they are now trying to make reality. They have been married a year and soon they will be a family.

From another way - a Carson/Hughes AU oneshot

kouwsextras:

He is standing by the window, watching the rain pour down in streams. As Saturday afternoons go, it is not one of the better ones. He walks to and fro, throwing a look outside for time to time, only to find the rain won’t let up, the skies are as gray as they were in the morning.

Read More

We interrupt NaNoWriMo for this tiny oneshot, based off an idea from someone here on Tumblr (I am so sorry I’ve forgotten who it was - message me and I’ll credit you!)

Q

chelsie-anon asked:

The last of the servants has finally left for the fair in Thirsk and Charles has slipped down to the kitchen for sandwiches and a large portion of Mrs. Patmore’s apple tart. He is walking past her parlor when he hears a low contented sigh and is surprised she didn't go with the others. Tiptoeing up behind her settee, he is startled to find that she has removed her skirt and blouse and is sitting in the dark in her shift and stockings, trying to keep cool in the summer heat. What happens next?

A


Anon, I am putting this under a ‘read more’. Hope you’ll enjoy!